Precarious Yates's Blog: Precarious Precipices, page 14

Is It Possible to End Slavery?

I’ve been wondering this for several months now, as I’ve put out books about modern slavery, worked to raise awareness, and supported organizations that work to stop this horrendous crime against humanity. Can we really expect to end all slavery?

As I’ve pondered this, I’ve come to the conclusion that I will work toward total abolition, whether or not it’s possible. I might not be able to help everyone, but if I help one or two who would otherwise have been subjected to slavery, or help restore someone who had been trapped by webs of deception, my work would be worth it. Who knows how many people that one person may help?

What good does raising awareness do?

It does lots of good, and here is why.

When people learn about what happens to modern slaves, many react with righteous anger and often with a visceral response. Such a strong response will cause people to have a paradigm shift, a new path of thinking, and they’ll remember. When they see a girl with too little clothing on a cold night, they won’t rush to blame her as willing participant. When they see a deeply discounted product that looks like its worth far more than what is charged, they may consider the small hands that were forced to make it. It’s a small beginning, but it’s a beginning.

If every person affected took a small step toward doing the right thing, such as befriending or mentoring a foster child, or buying fair trade, or listening to the cry for help beyond the scowl of bitterness, abolition may be within reach. We may not see the total end to slavery before Jesus comes, but that shouldn’t stop us from working toward it.

Have you ever wondered what God really feels about slavery?

The Lord also has a visceral reaction to it. Consider this from Isaiah 42:

Isaiah 42:13 The Lord will march out like a champion,

like a warrior he will stir up his zeal;

with a shout he will raise the battle cry

and will triumph over his enemies.

14 “For a long time I have kept silent,

I have been quiet and held myself back.

But now, like a woman in childbirth,

I cry out, I gasp and pant.

15 I will lay waste the mountains and hills

and dry up all their vegetation;

I will turn rivers into islands

and dry up the pools.

16 I will lead the blind by ways they have not known,

along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;

I will turn the darkness into light before them

    and make the rough places smooth.

These are the things I will do;

 I will not forsake them.“

But be assured of this: there is joy beyond the weeping. It is possible to see people restored from this level of hurt and pain. People are working toward this right now.

Exodus Cry

IJM

Love146

Agape International Missions

Destiny Rescue

 

Novels I’ve written to raise awareness about modern slavery:

 

 

The Last Potluck Supper, Part 2, a story

The Last Potluck Supper
Part 2

A story

(Find Part 1 HERE)

Evelyn glared at Gladys Thelmona’s effervescent smile adorning Aiden’s side.

“Evelyn, did you meet my friend, Aiden?” Gladys asked, entwining her arm with his.

Evelyn gulped to keep from rolling her eyes. “Hi Aiden. It’s a pleasure.” Where was the exit so she could escape this nauseating couple! “So, Gladys, what’s the topic this week’s symposium?”

Gladys shrugged. “Madison Filmore picked the topic tonight. We’ll be talking about love, since it’s the season.”

Aiden’s cheeks flushed bright red. “Wow. You single chicks don’t waste any time, do you.”

Did that mean he was taken? Or single! One could hope, Evelyn thought as she took her place around the buffet table and allowed Jimmy Kradin to grab her hand. Madison grabbed her other hand.

Ralph Mitchell, the assistant pastor, was there to say the blessing. The mention of God always smote Evelyn’s heart. God is love, but I’m so bitter about love.

Before the blessing ended, while everyone’s eyes were still closed, she stole a glance at Bobby Washington who stood beside Madison, holding Madison’s hand instead of hers. They weren’t dating anymore, but Bobby wasn’t dating Evelyn again either. Love. Pppf! How dare any of them talk about love! Oh well. Maybe Aiden was single. Maybe he’d like her sushi.

The night passed with agonizing languor. Love. Good grief! Were human beings even capable of such a thing?

High ideals were discussed and congratulated. Evelyn kept herself out of all this, waiting for the socializing at the end to hear what people thought of her sushi. Food was concrete. Love? Love could be so ridiculous. Especially among singles.

No one. Not one single person gave a positive comment on the sushi during the socializing hour following the symposium. One person asked if they’d get sick from it. Someone complimented Madison’s crackers. Everyone complimented the figs. Evelyn even conceded that the figs were absolutely delicious, she just wasn’t going to tell anyone.

The social hour was just as grueling as the Symposium. Who did everyone think they were, Greek philosophers? And no new intel on Aiden’s dating status, except that he did spend an awfully long time talking with Madison. Gag me with a spoon, Evelyn thought as she smiled at everyone on her way out.

Another night of crying herself to sleep after the singles’ Potluck Supper Symposium. Why did she endure this torture?

Next week she’d just bring a store-bought rotisserie chicken with some homemade sauces. That’d be sure to win everyone’s attention.

Before the next potluck, Aiden sent her a friend request on Facebook. And followed her on Pinterest. Hm. Maybe he’d be visiting the Symposium again.

When Evelyn walked into the gathering room with the store-bought chicken, she was greeted with the aroma of tomato and garlic. Who did what this time?

Aiden set his huge casserole dish in the middle of the table. It didn’t look very impressive. She didn’t like chicken with tomatoes. And black beans were not her favorite. Over pasta? Double eww. She set her sauces in a row right beside his dish and swore she wouldn’t even try what he made. But that’s where the garlic smell came from.  She smiled. Then smiled at him.

“It’s nice to see you again.” He smiled back and stood beside her. He wasn’t supposed to do that! Her anger and bitterness at potential suitors had no competition against that kind of sweetness.

Pastor Ralph was about to begin the blessing and everyone began to take hold of hands.

“It’s nice to see you too.” Wait, was she blushing? How embarrassing. She stared at her feet while he entwined his fingers with hers.

Pasta with Chicken, Tomatoes and Black Beans

The garlic and cayenne mixture is the very thing that keeps the flu away from my house. The rest of the ingredients make the dish not only edible but delicious. Left overs are wonderful, but you’ll have to double this recipe if you want any left overs!

1 lb pasta (penne, ziti or large macaroni)
1 lb boneless, skinless chicken
3-4 tablespoons minced garlic (about 9 or 10 cloves)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 can black beans, or 1/4 lb dry, soaked and thoroughly rinced
2 tbsp honey
1 tsp sugar
3 14 oz cans diced tomatoes
1 tsp oregano
Salt / pepper
dash of cayenne pepper (or more, to taste)

Method:

Heat water for the pasta.
Heat oil in a deep frying pan or cast iron pan.
Add garlic and the chicken. Once the chicken is cooked through, add tomatoes and black beans.
Add sugar, honey, salt, pepper and oregano
Let this simmer for 10 minutes, or until the pasta is finished cooking.

Serves 4

Introduction to the Romance of God

Last night I ran across an inspiring blog from a lady in Rhode Island, and she gave me permission to share the link. As I’ve been writing about the Song of Solomon, going through verse by verse, I’ve realized this may not make sense to many people. Lori Stanley Roeleveld wrote an introduction to this paradigm it better than I can. I invite you to check it out!

My Spikenard: a chief of sinners worships the King

While the king is at his table,

My spikenard sends forth its fragrance.

~ Song of Solomon 1:12

I’m here at verse 12 and feel more inadequate than ever to talk about worshiping the glorious King of the Universe. For years I had ebbed and flowed within ecstatic worship, caught up with every fiber of my being into the joy of enjoying God. Anyone who has been there knows there is almost nothing in the universe that would compare to this.

But lately, struggling with headaches and my own dark night of the soul, and staring in the face of all my inadequacies, I confess I’m a very poor specimen of a Jesus lover to be bringing this glorious message. The chief of sinners, as one ancient said. Yet here I am.

There was another representative of this message, a woman who brought spikenard for her king. People deemed her a poor specimen too. She snuck into the house of a very important and religious man, then in front of an audience who reclined at dinner, in a most awkward display of adoration and emotion, she spread forth her fragrance. There were tears and there was spikenard, but these were symbols of a more potent fragrance she poured upon her king. She brought a most profound gratitude. She was unnamed and known only by her ‘unrighteous living’ and two other facts that Jesus spoke over her: she was forgiven much and she loved him much.

One of the biggest lies I frequently tell myself is that I don’t have much love to give, and that I’m not a loving person. This isn’t helpful to me, to my family or in my relationship with God. Reciting this lie to myself keeps the focus on me and not where it should be: on the glorious King of Kings.

The next biblical instance of spikenard was just as awkward for nearly everyone in the room. What on earth was taking place in this incredibly awkward and spontaneous ceremony? Mary of Bethany took the most expensive thing she possessed, a pound of spikenard, which may have been her only object of value, and she poured it out on the head of a single man in a room full of men. Even while she was maligned by one of Jesus’ friends, Mary continued to pour out the oil in an act of worship, and an act of preparation for burial. She understood where Jesus was going when his friends didn’t.

What was Jesus’ response to Mary? “She has done a beautiful thing to Me. Wherever My Gospel is preached, tell also what she did.” (My paraphrase of Matthew 26:10-13 )

Her act of worship has her included in His Gospel. As part of His Gospel. That’s intense! Wowsers! What on earth is going on here?

She took Him at His word.

Jesus said He will be coming again.

So I’m going to take Him at His word, especially since He isn’t slow in keeping His promises. I love so much how He doesn’t want a single person to perish.

And while I wait for Him, I’m going to pour out my worship over Him, whether I feel adequate or not, in preparation for His coming.

While the king is at his table,

My spikenard sends forth its fragrance.

~ Song of Solomon 1:12

I also want to point out a few things about this table. Psalm 23 says:

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies.

And from Psalm 36:

How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!

People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.

They feast on the abundance of your house;

you give them drink from your river of delights.

Eat, O friends and drink! Drink deep, O lovers! ~ Song of Solomon 5:1b

Alambaster Box by Julie Meyer:

The Last Potluck Supper, part 1, a story

This story just erupted from me on New Year’s Day. I hope you enjoy it. There will be more to come.

The Last Potluck Supper

Some people take food far too seriously.

At the last potluck supper, Madison Filmore had the audacity to bring chicken liver pate with herbed flatbread. Evelyn Rudy couldn’t believe everyone passed up her honey-teriyaki chicken wings just to try a bite of the liver. Only the thinnest scratches and scrapings were left at the bottom of Madison’s fine china bowl. Evelyn had packed her wings in a playful tub. She had leftovers.

That was what happened every time. Anything Madison Filmore put together was gobbled up in an instant. From the simple cocktail meatballs to the elaborate pasta dishes–Madison’s creations always stole the show at the singles’ meetings, otherwise known as the Potluck Supper Symposium. This was bound to happen if you crammed foodies into these singles’ meetings: someone would always come out as queen.

None of those bachelors ever stood a chance in this fierce competition. How could they? The ladies were the ones who were on top of the latest food fads, and all of them shunned the microwave. None of them would have dared to bring canned ravioli, like Jimmy Kradin did one night. All of the guys gobbled it up, but not one person praised the dish as delicious. Well, except for Gladys Thelmona, but she was such a tomboy none of the ladies ever counted her–that bagel-pizza-toting traitor.

This week, Evelyn had a recipe to blow them all away. It would give her status as a creative and marriageable woman in this crowd of singles. The entire way to the dinner she didn’t think about what topic they’d discuss that night at the weekly symposium, but conjured self-deprecating remarks to deflate her swelling pride over this succulent masterpiece of sushi rolls she had prepared and set on a stack of matching white plates. The fried tempera vegetables decorating the edges would would ensure she was the hands-down winner of this unofficial contest of entrees.

Evelyn balanced the dish perfectly on her left palm as she opened the front door and held it with her hip to allow several other friends pass through before her. She loved to practice her waitress skills but hated to divulge how she learned them.

“Is that sushi?” Jimmy Kradin asked, reaching up as if to sample a piece.

Evelyn playfully slapped his hand away. “You’ll wait for it, just like everyone else.”

“I was just going to hold the door for you.” He gave the same mischievous smile he used on the ultimate Frisbee fields.

She ducked away before he could sneak even a straw mushroom off her plates.

The tables were arrayed with a red and white checked cloths. Surely they weren’t pre-gaming Valentine’s Day in the beginning of January. Being a single could be so embarrassing some days. Evelyn blushed as she pulled the plate of sushi closer to her middle and walked toward the buffet table to set it with the other plates.

She gazed at the accompanying dishes, feeling a secret triumph. Someone had brought mini quiche. Madison had just set down her crackers with herbed cream cheese and salmon. No one brought anything quite as exotic as sushi.

She pulled a tube of wasabi paste from her purse and squirted a perfect spiraling green tower beside the pink pickled ginger.

“Do you always carry wasabi in your purse?” His voice was deep and playful, and one she didn’t recognize at all. She didn’t recognize his face either, and at the sight of him across the buffet table, her heart skipped a little beat.

“Hi.” She gave a shy smile. “And no, not always.”

Her gaze followed his arms down to his hands which held a white and red dish with an interesting array of strange purple and green fruit, with a dollop of whipped cream on the side.

“I’m Aiden, by the way. And these are figs. In orange sauce. That’s orange cream.”

Figs? In January? She was beaten. By a bachelor, no less. She tried to form smile in front of her gritted teeth. “I’m Evelyn.”

Figs in Orange Sauce

(This recipe is recommended for August or September, since that’s when figs are fresh, unless you have some growing in your greenhouse. I don’t, but I hope to one day!)

Ingredients:

8 figs, stems removed, cut in quarters
3 oranges
1/2 c. sugar, divided
1 c. whipping cream
1 tbsp finely shredded orange peel
5-6 thing strips of orange peel soaked in sugar water

Method:

Juice the three oranges.
Heat the orange juice in a sauce pan over medium high heat with 1/4 c. of sugar. Stir until the sugar is dissolved.
Add the figs and remove from heat. Cover and let sit for five minutes or more.
Prepare the whipped cream. Add shredded orange peel and sugar.
Spoon the figs out of the sauce pan onto a plate and arrange as desired. Cook the rest of the orange juice in the pan until it’s the consistency of syrup. Drizzle over the figs.
Decorate with the strips of orange peel and dollops of whipped cream.

Gluten free transitions

Sometimes transitions are hard. I find diets fairly easy because I know there’s a start time and a finish time and I know what those dates will be. A complete overhaul of everything I eat–that’s a little trickier.

Going gluten-free has not been a smooth ride. My first week, I ate salad for every meal, hoping that would kick-start the process. It worked fairly well, until I went out for breakfast with my daughter and COMPLETELY forgot that I gave up wheat–until I was 3/4 the way through my Egg McMuffin (I know, I know–I should have stayed away from McDonald’s all together!).

I’ve been good ever since. Honest. Mostly. Except for that piece of cookie I ate 7 hours ago. Oops

I’ve discovered that I prefer the Spring Mix salad over the Iceberg varieties. And if I have cucumbers and the right salad dressing I don’t tend to miss the bread so much.

There are a few things that are difficult, things I miss, and things that lettuce be a substitute for:

Cheeseburgers.

Whew! Glad I got that off my chest! Except, I don’t have a good substitute yet. Any suggestions?

One last confession:

Garlic bread.

Has anyone found a good gluten-free alternative? I mean a good one, not just a passable one. I simply adore garlic bread, but even thinking about it makes my head ache.

Here’s a fun salad suggestion:

Tuna salad:

1 can tuna
Mayonnaise (to taste)
salt & pepper (to taste)
1/4 teaspoon wasabi
lettuce
salad dressing of choice (those who like ranch might like that–I prefer French)

Method:

Mix tuna, mayo, salt, pepper and wasabi together.
Toss the lettuce with your choice of salad dressing.
Top the salad with the spicy tuna.
Have either a drink or more wasabi handy, depending on your personal taste.

Are there any foods you crossed off your diet permanently and still crave?

Merry Christmas!

I hope you all have a beautiful Christmas! It’s one of my two favorite times of year, that time where God shows us His humble heart and undying love for us. Here’s one of my favorite songs to celebrate the season:

In The Bleak Midwinter

Words by Christina Rosseti

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,

earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;

snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,

in the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain;

heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign.

In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed

the Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,

cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;

but his mother only, in her maiden bliss,

worshiped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give him, poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;

if I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;

yet what I can I give him: give my heart.

I have no conscious memories of this church, but this was one of the places I spent a great deal of time in my first year of life, and it shows up in dreams often. It’s always so special to see it in video:

And here’s a bonus one from the Belfast Cathedral Choir that shouldn’t be missed. I love the beautiful images in this video:

The Camel’s Complaint: A Christmas Play guest blog

My friend Mary C. Findley is sharing on my blog today. Let’s give her a warm welcome!

Our Christmas gift to all: A puppet play I wrote some years ago. Merry Christmas!

The Camel’s Complaint

Characters:

Caliph the Camel

Hannah the Horse

Daniel the Donkey

Lucius the Lion

Ollie the Ox

Sarah the Sheep

Scene One|

Setting: Desert oasis. Palm trees, green plants such as aloe, yucca, water hole off to side. Tents visible in background.

Lighting: Outdoor sunset.

At Rise: Hannah enters left, whinnies loudly. Caliph stumbles on behind her, sinks down, begins to snore.

Hannah: Caliph! Caliph! Wake up, great ship of the desert!

Caliph (Grumbling, not looking up): May a thousand fleas make their nests in your tail. Can’t you be quiet?

(Daniel enters right.)

Daniel: Ah, the most beautiful flower of the desert. What’s the matter, Hannah?

Hannah: Caliph won’t get up again, Daniel. The caravan’s going to leave without him.

Daniel: They won’t leave without that sorry excuse for a camel.  Remember what he’s carrying?

Hannah: but he’s got to get up. He’s making us lose time every day. What if we’re too late?

Daniel: Get up, son of a sand-slug. Caliph! You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

Caliph: It’s fine if you want to keep walking all night, every night. This load of mine is much too heavy.

Daniel: It should be heavy. That’s gold you’re carrying, O grandfather of grouches.

Caliph: Sand for breakfast, dust for lunch, cactus spines for supper. What a life! I’ve had enough.

Daniel: You haven’t got any choice. Our masters are headed for Judea. I know that much.

Caliph: Why Judea? The whole place smells like Caesar’s armpits.

Hannah: They follow the Star.

Caliph: The sky is full of stars! Can’t they pick one going to the Caspian Sea Resort? I need a vacation!

Daniel: I’ve heard them talk about a new King.

Hannah: This King is greater than Herod or Caesar, the masters say. They call Him the King of kings.

Caliph: Humph! All I know is, my load’s too heavy and I’m tired of walking. I don’t care about any king of kings. See you at the waterhole. (Caliph exits left.)

Hannah: What if we miss the King of kings, Daniel?

Daniel: We’ll have to think of a way to hurry Caliph up. Hmmm … I have an idea. Follow me. (Both exit left.)

Scene Two

Lighting: Desert sunrise.

Setting: Similar to scene one, but plants, etc., rearranged to show it is a different location.

At Rise: Caliph runs onstage from left.

Caliph: We can make another few miles before it gets too hot. Come on, come on!

(Hannah and Daniel stagger onstage behind Caliph, panting, exhausted.)

Daniel: Caliph, stop! We’ve got to rest! You mangy, flea-bitten son of a jackal, stop! (collapses)

Caliph: Is that lion still following us?

Hannah: Oh, Caliph, there isn’t any lion! Daniel made up that story to scare you so we could go faster!

(Caliph stops dead, turns, butts heads with Daniel.)

Caliph: No lion?

Daniel: No lion, Caliph.

Caliph: I ran all night long, and now you tell me there’s no lion? Why I should –

Daniel: Go ahead. I’m so tired I don’t care what you do.

Caliph: Fortunately for you, my long-eared friend, I am also too tired. But I’ll have my revenge. (Caliph lies down heavily, and begins to snore.)

Hannah: We certainly made up for lost time today, Daniel. It was a good idea.

Daniel: We’ll be in Jerusalem tomorrow night. Get some sleep, fairest Hannah. King of kings, here we come.

(He gives her a peck on the nose. She nuzzles him, and they go to sleep. Lucius the Lion enters quietly from right and looks at the three sleeping animals, walks all around them, sniffing, and stops over Caliph. Caliph suddenly snorts, shaking his head with a loud jingle of bells. Lucius runs off right. A distant roar is heard offstage. Caliph jumps up.)

Caliph (Whispering): What was that? It couldn’t be. Could it? (He looks around fearfully, then drops off to sleep again. After a pause, lighting dims to signify sunset, and animals get up and exit.)

Scene Three

Setting: Bethlehem. Stable with hay in manger, buildings visible at sides.

Lighting: Night outdoor in town.

At Rise: Ollie and Sarah enter, munching.

Ollie: By all the boils on Job’s back, I’m glad it’s calmed down around here, Sarah.

Sarah: It was a madhouse during that census, wasn’t it, Ollie? So many strange animals and  people.

Ollie: Even people staying in the stables with us! And giving birth to babies, by every pair of unclean animals on the ark!

Sarah: What a strange place for the Lamb of God to be born. But I’m glad we got to see Him.

Ollie: Yes, indeed, but it’s better for Him to be living in a house, by all the salt in Elisha’s cruise.

Sarah: Ollie, I heard a lion last night.

Ollie: By the four hundred prophets of Baal, Sarah, this is Bethlehem — civilization. A lion! Don’t be silly.

Sarah: I know I heard it. It was scary. Ollie! There it is!

(Caliph runs onstage right, pushes between Sarah and Ollie, tries to hide.)

Ollie: By all the water in the Red Sea, I’ll have my horns in you, you — CAMEL?

Caliph: Hide me! Hide me, quick! I’ll be dead and lying in a sand-swept grave if I go back to that caravan!

Sarah: You scared us half to death! Who are you, and what are you doing here?

Caliph: I am Caliph, son of Casbah, son of Cashmir, heir to the royal line of blue-blooded Bactrian —

Ollie: Spare us the pedigree. By all the soldiers in David’s army, what are you doing in our stable?

Caliph (munching a mouthful of hay): Enjoying your fabulous fodder. I’ve run away from a caravan. They were bound for Jerusalem, but I gave them the slip in Jericho. I’m a free camel! Ha – ha – ha – ha – ha! Eh — by the way, where am I?

Ollie: Out in the cold, by all the Philistines Samson killed! (He shoves Caliph with his horns.) We’re done feeding strangers, thank you very much.

Caliph: Ouch! Those horns are sharp! Am I bleeding? You’ll be hearing from my attorneys!

Sarah: We work for our food, you silly camel. If you want our master to feed you, maybe you could help him at his inn.

Caliph: Work! I’m through working! But I do have something that will make your master take care of me for the rest of my life. My packs are full of gold!

Sarah: Gold! You ran away with your master’s gold? Stay out of our stable. This is where the Lamb of God was born.

Caliph: Well … it wasn’t really my master’s gold. It was for some King … the King … uh … the King of … a king of … some sort.

Ollie: That’s all we need — someone who steals a king’s gold. You get out of here, or by all the spices of Sheba’s queen, you’ll need more than an attorney when I get through with you! Go on, get out!

(Ollie jabs Caliph again. Caliph runs off right. Ollie and Sarah exit left.)

Scene Four

Setting: Barren desert. No plants of any kind except dead brush. Jagged rocks.

Lighting: bright daylight.

At Rise: Caliph stumbles on from left, falls exhausted.

Caliph (gasping): No food … no water … this pack … still on my back. How could things get worse?

(Lucius enters right, stands directly over Caliph, sniffs him. Caliph slowly looks up, then jumps away.)

Caliph: Aaaah! Now I’m going to be lion lunch! I knew it could get worse!

Lucius: You must get back to the caravan at once.

Caliph: Oh, O get it. I’m hallucinating. You’re just a mirage of a lion, right?

Lucius: The Lion of Judah is in great danger. You must get the gold to Him.  He will need it to escape.  Do not let the Enemy win! Go! Go!

(Lucius roars and chases Caliph offstage left. Roaring continues, then fades away.)

Scene Five

Setting: Bethlehem stable as before.

Lighting: Night in town.

At Rise: Ollie and Sarah enter left, heads nod, they fall asleep. Lucius enters quietly from right, comes up to Ollie.

Lucius: Where is the Lion of Judah?

Ollie (Startled awake, he snorts and waves his horns.): What? Keep away! By all the straw in Pharaoh’s bricks, there’ll be no mutton or porterhouse for you tonight, lion!

Lucius: The Lion of Judah! Quickly! Where is He?

Sarah (cringing): You’re the only lion we’ve seen.

Lucius: He was born in this very place not long ago. A baby — the travelers from Nazareth. Where is He?

Ollie: By every grain of feed in Joseph’s brothers’ sacks, He’s well-guarded from hungry lions.

Lucius: I do not want to eat Him, my foolish friends. I only want –

Lighting: Star appears in sky above set, fills scene with bright light.

Lucius: Ah! It is the sign. They will find Him now.

Ollie: Who are you?

Lucius: My name is Lucius. The Star and I are both sent to lighten that which is dark. You and your fleecy friend have helped the One Who has come. Others will help Him too.  Even stubborn old Caliph. We will see Him safely all the way. I must go now and make sure my reluctant friend has returned to his duty. Farewell, Ollie and Sarah.

(Lucius exits right.)

Ollie: The Lion of Judah? Didn’t you call Him the Lamb of God, Sarah — that baby, I mean?  By all the stones in Solomon’s temple, I –

(Ollie and Sarah exit left, talking. Daniel and Hannah enter right.)

Daniel: I can’t believe Caliph would really run away.  We came all this way to find the King of Kings, and Caliph ran off with the most important gift of all.

Hannah: Our masters are so sad.  This may be the town where we will find Him — the star stopped right here, but without the gold –

(Faint sound of roaring. Caliph runs in left, panting.)

Caliph: The lion! Is it still after me? I’ve been running and running, but I couldn’t get away! I — Daniel! Hannah!  Look out! There’s a lion! It chased me all the way across the desert! Run!

Hannah: Caliph! You’re back! Is the gold safe?

Caliph: Gold! How can you think of gold at a time like this?  Our lives are in danger! Didn’t you hear me say there’s a lion chasing me?

Daniel: I told you that story wasn’t true, Caliph. How could you run away with the gold? It was a gift for the King of kings!

Caliph: The gold is perfectly safe, strapped to my back, weighing at least ten thousand pounds — it would have been safe if that lion had eaten me, not that either of you care.  Say, a minute ago it was dark. Where’d that bright light come from?

Hannah: It’s the Star, silly! See it up there? This is where the King of kings is.

Caliph: The King of kings? That was it! But that lion — he said something about the Lion of Judah — and there was a sheep talking about the Lamb of God — I am so confused!

(Lucius enters left. Daniel and Hannah run off right.)

Caliph: I’m too tired to run anymore. Go ahead and eat me. The gold is here. You can give it to the King of kings, or the Lion of Judah, or the Lamb of God, or whoever’s supposed to get it. Bon appetit!

Lucius: Your masters will be here in a moment, and you will live to serve them a long time, silly, stubborn Caliph. Thanks to you, the Bright and Morning Star will be safe.

Caliph: Don’t tell me, let me guess. This Bright and Morning Star — He’s the same as the King of kings, and the Lion of Judah, and the Lamb of God — Have I got it all straight now?

Lucius: He is all those things, and many more. Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace …

Caliph: You mean He’s — He’s the One? THAT One?  I ran off with His gold? Oh, you’ve just got to eat me. I can’t live knowing what I almost did.

Lucius: What you almost did is not as important as what you really did, Caliph. You brought the gold that will get Him safely to Egypt, away from Herod. All is well.

Caliph: What can I do? I can never make up for all the trouble I’ve caused.

Lucius: Be faithful to your masters from now on. Be faithful, Caliph, and you will be faithful to Him.

(Caliph turns and looks up at the star. Lucius exits left.)

Caliph: The Bright and Morning Star. I think I like that name best of all. I’d better go find my masters now. Faithful Caliph.  Hmmm … I like the sound of that. (Exit right.)

Production Notes for The Camel’s Complaint

Settings: Scenes One and Two are desert oasis with plants which can be changed around to show two different locations. Scenes Three and Five are Bethlehem stable with hay in manger. Scene Four is barren desert with scrub brush, jagged rocks.

Lighting: All outdoor. Scene One is sunset, Scene Two sunrise, Scene Three city at night, Scene Four bright desert day, Scene Five same as Three but add Star shining like daylight at appropriate time.

Props: Bundles or chests for Caliph’s back. Jeweled harnesses can be made from costume jewelry to decorate Caliph and Hannah. Daniel and Ollie wear plain rope halters.

Puppets: Camel, Horse, Donkey, Lion, Ox, and Sheep.

The Mare of Kings

Now we come to one of the most exciting passages in the Song of Solomon, even though it doesn’t seem that way on the surface. A young woman longing for love has just asked the shepherd she loves where to find him when he’s resting in the shade at midday. This is the same shepherd who had whispered that she was beautiful. Now, when answering her, he declares his thoughts boldly.

If you do not know, most beautiful of women,

follow the tracks of the sheep

and graze your young goats

by the tents of the shepherds.

I liken you, my darling, to a mare

among Pharaoh’s chariot horses.

Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings,

your neck with strings of jewels.

We will make you earrings of gold,

studded with silver.

(Song of Solomon 1:8-11)

Let’s unfold each of these images, and while we’re unfolding them, allow the Lord to speak to you in the secret place.

Every time the Shepherd opens conversation with you, He’s come to tell you first and foremost how beautiful you are. You are beautiful because that’s how the Lord designed you. Your soul is beautiful to Him, as you will see below.

We’re called by Him to graze our goats by the tents of the shepherds. This is a call to be in fellowship with others, even if that’s difficult.

Then, our Shepherd begins to speak the most remarkable words over us: He likens me to one of the mares on the chariots of Pharaoh. As king of Egypt, the Pharaoh owned the very best horses in the ancient Middle East, and the horses harnessed to his chariot were the best of all his horses. These were the ones trained for battle. I may not be a warhorse yet, but sometimes God speaks over me the things that are not as though they are. Here is how God describes the warhorse:

“Do you give the horse its strength

or clothe its neck with a flowing mane?

Do you make it leap like a locust,

striking terror with its proud snorting?

It paws fiercely, rejoicing in its strength,

and charges into the fray.

It laughs at fear, afraid of nothing;

it does not shy away from the sword.

The quiver rattles against its side,

along with the flashing spear and lance.

In frenzied excitement it eats up the ground;

it cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds.

At the blast of the trumpet it snorts, ‘Aha!’

It catches the scent of battle from afar,

the shout of commanders and the battle cry.” (Job 39:19-25)

This speaks of our mind sharpened and attuned to the Lord’s voice and the ways He has trained us. Whenever I think of these verses, I always think of Kevin Prosch’s lyric:

Like horses that are yoked to the chariots of kings

Hook me up to your heart, to your heart, O God,

Never to be free!

Then He speaks of our cheeks. Our cheeks show our emotions, and earrings speak of being a bond servant. Our emotions become beautiful through our unswerving devotion to the Lord.

Our neck speaks of our will. The more we live “Thy will be done,” the more our neck will glitter with jewels. There are many ways in which jewels are spoken of throughout the Bible, but a major way to consider here is this: the walls of the heavenly Jerusalem are layers of jewels. “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.”

Gold speaks of the godly character He is working in you by His Holy Spirit. He who began a good work in you WILL carry it on to completion.

Silver speaks of redemption. He’s redeemed so much of our lives! God works all things together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His plan.

He will make us into those whose minds, wills and emotions show His character and demonstrate His redemption.

I liken you, my darling, to a mare

among Pharaoh’s chariot horses.

Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings,

your neck with strings of jewels.

We will make you earrings of gold,

studded with silver.

And, in case you were wondering, and in case you have been lied to, He loves your soul. He may not like the current state that my soul is in, but He loves my soul.

I’m going to close lyrics from one of my favorite songs. I wanted to find a video for you, but I couldn’t. If anyone has the music, please share. But I do have the lyrics. These echo words in my own heart:

COME DOWN
(c) Kevin Prosch

Into my hands have come many things

You should be disappointed

For I have wasted most of these

My innocence and youth, I poured them out like water

And to think to you that I am

Still worth saving from the fire, God

Come down and meet with me

You make my day so sweet

Inflame my soul oh God, with a cry for purity

Like horses that are yoked, to the chariots of kings

Hook me up to Your heart, never to be free

Too many compromises to get me through the day

Help me make the choices, sometimes I am afraid

When I’m deaf to everything but the cry of my own pain

Give me the grace to trust You, I cannot walk away

Don’t disappoint me God, not while I am

Not while I am trusting You again

If I fall down in darkness and this weakness comes to me

Hold the scepter out to come banging on Your door

I’m banging on Your door

Come down from the top of that mountain

Rise up from the bottom of the sea

I empty out the pockets of my life

With nothing to bring but my iniquities

I can’t wait to lay my head down on Your breast

I want to see your face, kiss the nail marks in Your hands

People think you’re just an image from a time so long ago

Not the God who I believe in whom re-aranged my world

Because the death and resurrection of Your beloved Son

And the mystery of the cross, and the power of His blood

You changed the things about me I could not change myself

And You loved me in my sin, You’re the God of all my help

And in my darkest hour, if weakness comes to me

Hold the scepter out to come banging on Your door

I’m banging on Your door

Come down from the top of that mountain

Rise up from the bottom of the sea

I empty out the pockets of my life

With nothing to bring but my iniquities

Come down oh Heavenly Father

Rise up on the inside of me

I empty out the pockets of my life

With nothing to bring but my iniquities

Like a Veiled Woman

Tell me, you whom I love,

where you graze your flock

and where you rest your sheep at midday.

Why should I be like a veiled woman

beside the flocks of your friends?

Song of Solomon 1:7

Have you ever wrestled with shame until your arms ached as you gripped the steering wheel all the way to church?

There are few places in this world that I’ve struggled about more than church. High school was one of those places that offered just as much struggle.

I was so curious about life and learning before I reached the crowded halls of high school. I didn’t anticipate anything close to that level of judgmentalness. The way I was judged in high school, one would think I was on trial with death row in the balance.  Every day I’d wrestle with shame, not wanting to get up out of bed and face the people who thought that way about me. I had enough of my own demons to fight every day, I didn’t want to fight everyone else’s, especially as ill-equipped as I was. Mostly, I wanted to be in a place where I felt pure and beautiful, not where I stood on the same pedestal as a prostitute.

In ancient times in the Middle East, a woman wore a veil so she could be easily identified as a prostitute, as we see by the actions of Tamar with Judah in Genesis 38. Tamar had to fight not only for her reputation but for her life, and used shrewd and savvy means to do this.

There’s another biblical person altogether who wore a veil: Moses. People were afraid of the glory shining from his face, so he wore a veil.

I felt more like Tamar than like Moses in high school. And throughout my walk with the Lord, I’ve felt more like Tamar than like Moses in church.

I think Jesus warned us against judging one another because we are so prone to doing this. As soon as we meet someone, we form an opinion, and we’ve often been trained to make a strong opinion either positive or negative. Our opinions don’t often leave room for grace.

But we long for grace. I do. I long to lie down in green pasture, and to be led beside still waters. I long for Jesus who always views me through grace-colored lenses. He said He’d be in the midst of two or three gathered in His name. That means being around other human beings.

Tell me, you whom I love,

where you graze your flock

and where you rest your sheep at midday.

How do I get past feeling like a veiled woman in the midst of other human beings? For years, I struggled with deep depression every single Sunday afternoon, except for those Sundays that I stayed home from church. Then I just wrestled with guilt.

My daughter watched The Wizard of Oz for the first time last week, and we’ve watched it almost every day since then. Goodness, gracious me! What a prophetic movie!

Do you remember how the wizard was projected with smoke and mirrors and lots of fear inducing sounds? Sometimes I think the reason we feel shame is because of the way God is projected. Yes, the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, but I don’t think many people understand this fear of the Lord. I don’t think I understand it very well, even though I’ve asked for this understanding.

But remember toward the end, when the curtain was parted and the wizard was revealed for who he was? Instead of giving the Scarecrow a brain, he affirmed the brain the Scarecrow already had. The same went with the Tinman and the Lion: they were told that they already possessed the very things they sought.

When we encounter the Living God for who He is, without all the smoke and mirrors, we discover that He’s already provided what we seek:

Mark 10:29-30 “Truly I tell you,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—along with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life.” New International Version (NIV)

This verse gives us a clue to an answer: we need a God-built tribe around us. I’ve moved many, many times, and have had to let the Lord build this tribe for me again and again. Here’s what I’ve learned from these experiences: Never expect those in your tribe to be more or less perfect than you are, and never expect them to be the same type of person as you. Love them fiercely and give like it’s your love language.

I’m going to leave you with the lyrics of the choral song the Optimistic Voices sang while Dorothy and her friends were skipping away from the field of poppies (temptations) toward the Emerald City (promise):

You’re out of the woods

You’re out of the dark

You’re out of the night

Step into the sun, step into the light

Keep straight ahead

For the most glorious place

On the Face of the Earth

Or the sky

Hold onto your breath

Hold onto your heart

Hold onto your hope

March up to the gate

And bid it open!

(c)1939

Let God build you a tribe. And may He bless you mightily!