Lori Stanley Roeleveld's Blog, page 33

Once Upon a Time, A Boy Kissed a Girl and She Saw Stars

Maybe you’re living a quiet, simple life and there are moments when you wonder if that’s enough. You don’t feel particularly important, accomplished, or noticed as you care for your family, serve at your church, or show up for your job. Let me tell you, I work daily with people who fail to do these things and you have no idea the value of a simple life, well-lived, until you’ve seen the fallout from the hundreds that fall apart. Be encouraged by this post I first wrote in 2014 about George and Shirley Sherman.

In 1960, a boy kissed a girl in a small town in the smallest state and she saw stars.

One cold Saturday, fifty-four years later, he said good-bye as she took her place among the stars who wait with Jesus for the rest of us.

Seated at the funeral of this woman I didn’t know (there to support my father), was like being privileged to glimpse our future arrival in heaven when all our works will be judged.

I think most of us will find that day mildly disorienting at first until we get our bearings and remember that the standards for reward in heaven are wildly different than they were here on earth. This testimony to one life was the perfect illustration of this truth.

On earth, most people probably walked past this woman without a second thought. She’ll never be featured as one of the fifty most influential women or receive an award for her accomplishments in her career, or in the arts, or in public service.

But crowded into the church pews were four generations of men, women, and children who, one by one testified that this woman made them feel welcomed and loved every day of her life.

Her husband honored her first – he was funny, quiet-spoken, and sweet. Then her grown daughters, her sons, one son-in-law, and several grandchildren. They read scripture and poetry, they told stories, showed photos, they wept, laughed, and spoke to her as though she was seated there among us still.

They testified to a woman who was a wife and mother first. The kind of woman immortalized by Norman Rockwell and nowadays, too often, mocked and lampooned by a modern culture, which has no appetite for things of eternal worth.

She cooked, cleaned, nagged children and grandchildren into attending church service and Sunday school, played cards, watched Wheel of Fortune, and had an open kitchen/open living room policy with all she called family.

She was a patriot with a flagpole on her front yard and she was happiest when the tiny local parade marched past her lawn chair each year. From there she watched her husband and sons march in military uniform or dressed as volunteers in the local fire department and ambulance corps, and grandsons walking with the scouts.

It was a simple life.

She taught her daughters to love their husbands and keep their homes. She prayed when her husband went out on fire calls, or her sons went off to service. She took a secretarial job once, something just for her, but loving God and her family topped her To Do list every day.

This quiet, humble faithfulness will be the Academy Award winner of heaven. Not the praises of the accomplished, the achieved, the well-known, but the steadfast love of those who lived every day as if they were exactly where God intended them to be, loving those around them without reservation. These will be the honorees on an eternal stage.

Shirley suffered with Alzheimer’s for the last ten years of her life. Gradually, she lost herself but her family never lost sight of Shirley.

Her husband, George, cared for her at home for six of those ten years and through the final four, in a nursing home, George was there every day, acting as the voice of the woman he loved.

George’s son-in-law said, with quivering chin, that tomorrow the world will honor and celebrate as heroes men who toss a football and play a game, but today, he asked, that we honor a true hero. A quiet man who kissed a girl, vowing to love her in sickness and in health, and who kept that vow to the very end without complaint.

As I sat there, sitting among people who don’t look like celebrities or superstars, I felt transported to that greater stage surrounded by the crowd of witnesses in heaven and I remembered how much I have to learn about love.

What other subject merits our single-minded devotion?

In the academy of excellence in love, Shirley would be Dean of Students with a PhD in faithfulness. Today, my education in love was advanced several light years by this celebration of a wife and mother who loved well and received love in return.

If what Timothy says is true, that “The aim of our charge is love that issues from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.”(Timothy 1:5) well, then,

Shirley Sherman from a small town in the smallest state who kissed a boy and saw stars and then raised a family filled with love hit the mark.

World leaders like Trump, Obama, Clinton, and Putin have a certain amount of power, but in the end, we’ll find they had less eternal influence than one single soul completely yielded to Jesus. Be that soul.

Once Upon a Time, a boy kissed a girl and she saw stars https://t.co/pZlbDRR0EE #simpleliving #Jesus #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) July 12, 2017

There’s Something Seriously Wrong with My Church

Visitors to the church I attend may not notice it immediately but something’s wrong with my church.

I’m not sure how they can avoid seeing it since it’s so apparent to those of us sitting in the pews every week. Something’s very wrong with us.

Oh, it’s not just one something. It must be many things or some systemic problem because like a twisted version of the blind men and the elephant, each of us describes the brokenness of our little congregation in a slightly different fashion.

It’s the music, the pastor, the prayer, the lack of . . ., the abundance of . . ., the pewsitters, it’s them, it’s her, it’s him, it’s me.

I wonder, often, why God called me to this little imperfect local fellowship. I was fine where I was, thank you.

The place I’d chosen to worship just prior to coming here came highly recommended. The congregation was full of creative people. The service was designed with my minimalist tastes in mind. Passionate, biblical preaching. Energetic worshipers. Contemporary, well-executed music. Casual dress. Subtle technology. Devout followers of Christ making every effort to reach the city in which they worshiped.

Which was the problem God had with my being there – it wasn’t my city.

In fact, my city isn’t a city at all. My city is a little town that isn’t even really a town – just a village in a town. Every time the leaders of the perfect church talked about their passion for reaching their city, I heard God whisper the name of my own community.

Right. The souls on the street where I live matter to Jesus. And He wants them to matter to me.

Besides, there was something wrong with that perfect church, too. I didn’t belong there. It felt perfect to me, in part, because I wasn’t on the same mission with them. I wasn’t fighting in the same trench so my view lacked the details people see up close. It was the perfect church to visit but God didn’t want me living there.

So, I listened (not quickly, but eventually). I showed up at the church with something wrong with it in the community where I live. No one is perfect there and the worship reflects that. No one has hit the mark. No one is all grown up in Jesus. No one is flawless. I feel right at home.

I feel at home, but not comfortable. I’m uncomfortable because the Spirit of God is on the move and I feel His breath on my neck during the service, I sense His touch on my face as He moves among us, I hear Him enter like a rush of wind with the promise that soon He will remain longer. It’s the discomfort I feel at the start of a trip, a journey, an adventure. I’m packed and ready but who knows what I’ll encounter along the way?

This discomfort makes my little church the perfect place to worship. The perfect place to worship is the place where God is at work because watching Him work inspires worship.

When I was younger in the Lord, I thought that when people complained that things weren’t right, something should be done about it. I thought the pathway to community in the church was to hear everyone’s complaints, address them, make compromises, and build alliances.I don’t know if I believe this anymore.

Now, I wonder if when people start complaining, when people get restless, when people start asking, “what’s wrong with this church anyway?”, I wonder if that’s when the people of God should say,

“Listen, God is  on the move and right before He moves – just like a storm – the air pressure builds and people feel uncomfortable. Endure the discomfort. Seek the Lord. Ask for the Holy Spirit to come. Pack lightly and be ready when He blows the church doors open.”

After the wind. After the earthquake. After the fire. God’s going to ask you a question. “What are you doing here?” Do you know what you will answer?

For me, the answer will be, “I’ve been waiting for you.” Because in any church, the most important question isn’t how you worship, or how many people worship beside you, or what style music do you use, the most important question is does God show up in your midst.

Is there something wrong with your church?

If it’s not preaching, teaching, living biblical truth, abandon ship. If it’s teaching biblical truth but no one is putting it into practice, repent and pray for the Holy Spirit to move and work in your midst.

If, however, people are uncomfortable, restless, and seeking answers about what’s wrong with them, hit your knees and stay there until God appears – He’s ready to move among you.

Are you worshiping in the perfect church? Beware. That could be because you haven’t gotten close enough to see its faults. There’s more danger in keeping your distance than there is risking opening your heart to other faulted believers.

It’s been with us since a heartbeat after Pentecost – the imperfect church. But the true church’s power is not in perfection, the power is in the presence of Jesus Christ.

The perfect church for you is the church to which you are called, the place assigned to you by God.

If you’re in tune with the Holy Spirit, you’ll know if you’re where He’s assigned you to be. If you’re not, seek the Lord through prayer. Tell Him that more than the perfect worship experience, more than perfect church family, more than perfect music and mission, more than all that – you want to be where He is.

Ask Him to lead you THERE. Then, pack for an adventure . . .

There’s Something Seriously Wrong with My Church https://t.co/7WFobHTy0t #Church #Jesus #shouldIstayorshouldIgo

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) July 6, 2017

Dear World, You Make Me So Uncomfortable!

Dear World,

I have a confession to make.

Many of you people make me uncomfortable.

It’s true. But, I try hard to hide it for a million reasons.

Reason one: I don’t see Jesus ever being uncomfortable – ever. Read the gospels. He walked through this world like He owned it. (Okay, He did, but still.)

I don’t ever see Him dodge a situation, or stumble over words, or mumble an answer. He just related to other people. All kinds. Sinners and would-be saints. He loved them AND He said hard things to them without ever skipping a beat. That, alone, is enough reason to want to be like Him.

Since I represent Him, I figure I shouldn’t be uncomfortable either, but I’m still in process of becoming like Him.

So, sometimes, I am living and speaking from the new growth part of my soul; but other times, I’m sticking up a cardboard likeness of Jesus between myself and others hoping that will hold up until I can figure out what He would say or do in this situation. It’s not really working for me or the others in my conversations, so I must find a way of not doing that.

Reason two: It’s not okay to be uncomfortable in these times. We’re all supposed to know what to say to everyone all the time. If you don’t know what to say, hesitate a heartbeat too long, it’s a signal that you are suspect (of whatever is worst to be at any given time).

It’s especially bad from someone who works with words for a living. Of all people, I ought to have the patter down. But, you know, I just don’t.

And, it’s not for lack of trying. My goodness, I’m in my Bible every day. I watch the news (more than one station). I view Ted Talks and read writers who think differently than I do as well as heroes of my faith.

I’m honestly trying to be open to people who think and live in ways that I don’t, but still represent the bold truth of the Bible. I have to tell you, one thing I’m truly looking forward to in Heaven is a long, long nap.

I study people who articulate well the truth I live, and try to do what they do. But, it’s a lot harder in the lunchroom at work than it is from a stage surrounded by people who already agree with what you’re saying.

I listen hard to people who reject this truth and try to love them with my ears, with my attention, with my attempts at empathy, knowing full well that we may connect while I listen, but the moment I open my mouth to voice what I believe, they’re just as likely to feel that all my listening was a sham, a smokescreen, a baited hook, (and are they that wrong? for I am, after all, a fisher of men – make that men and women. Make that humans. Make that . . . never mind. You know what I’m trying to say.)

But, it’s not about catching fish to eat them, but about fishing people out of the drink, so they can be safe on deck when the storm comes because you want to be in Jesus’ boat as the lightning strikes.

You get this, right? I mean, I didn’t expect this struggle. I was always the kid in class with my hand up, the one who volunteered for the speaking parts, the girl most likely to have something to say,

but more and more I’m resembling a bad mime doing an imitation of a fish drowning in water. (Wonder if that’s the symbol I should have on my rear bumper? I mean, truth in advertising, right?)

Reason three: (Okay you knew there was a third because there’s nothing a Christian loves more than truth that comes in threes.) This reason is hard to say because you’re not likely to believe it, but it’s about the fact that I really love you.

You don’t believe that because there are so many things on which we don’t agree. And in these times, to disagree apparently means we must wish each other dead or into non-existence, but that’s not where I’m coming from, as ancient and archaic and retro as that makes me.

I love you and want you to live. I want you to live forever, in fact, but the only way I know for you to do that is through Jesus Christ and with Jesus comes this narrow road, hard truths, and transformation from the way we are to the way He is and that means change – not just for you, I’m changing, too, but I already know His love so it’s a different story, isn’t it? (When I get nervous, I forget to punctuate, I know, but bear with me.)

I think, for all our sakes, I’m going to have to just move this cardboard Jesus-poster I’ve been lugging around, own up to my own humanity, and start entering conversations like this: 

“Hey, it makes me wildly uncomfortable to engage in this conversation, because I know just from listening to you that my views aren’t likely to make us friends, but I feel like I’m being dishonest under this cover of silence.”

Or, if I have more time and some Holy Spirit gumption:

“Look, I want us to be at peace. I respect you and the boldness with which you share your views. I’m not looking to judge you or add to the challenges in your life, but you and I see things differently. I hold to ancient truths that have been shared by Bible-believing Jesus-followers for centuries, and I’m not ashamed of them. I’ve been quiet because I don’t want to hurt you (and I admit, I don’t want you to hurt me), but while times are changing, these truths have not. I’ve been building a closet of silence for my own protection, if I’m honest. But for your sake, it’s important for me to come out as a Jesus-loving, Bible believing, modern-day sinner saved by grace. You may choose not to share my views and I will still love you and want to live in peace. You may not feel the same about me.”

Or, you know, maybe I’ll come up with a shorter version.

Either way. This silence isn’t working for me. And there will come a day when you’ll realize my silence was no kindness to you, either.

Thank you for listening. I hope you’re still around after I start talking,

Love, The Jesus-follower in your life.

“If I say, “I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name,” there is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot.” Jeremiah 20:9

Dear World, You Make Me So Uncomfortable https://t.co/OmiiZpW4Gb an open letter to people with other worldviews #Jesus #amwriting #DearWorld

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) July 3, 2017

Why I’ve Started Cutting Holes in Rooftops

There’s so much I don’t know. Even more that I can’t control.

I gasp across the entrance to home,

head throbbing,

thoughts spinning,

soul swirling with other people’s problems,

hoping for a momentary reprieve before I face my own.

The troubles of this world are so powerful some days, and I’m not a stupid person.

I’m not afraid of hard work. I’m full of God’s love, His Spirit, and His Word,

but the troubles seem relentless.

People get so beaten down. And Satan has never been a student of mercy. So, I arrive home depleted, defeated, spent, and overdrawn.

When I pray about it, God calls to my mind the four friends of the paralytic. You know the story, right? I don’t tell you anything new.

Jesus was teaching in a house crowded with people, so crowded that four friends had to dig a hole in the roof of the house to lower their paralyzed friend down to Jesus. Jesus said that because of their faith, the man’s sins were forgiven and he was healed.

The unbelieving Pharisees got bent out of shape over this random granting of forgiveness – you know, since they had a whole economy built around selling animals that needed to be sacrificed for forgiveness – it wasn’t something people could normally access simply by dropping through a hole in the roof. Free-flow forgiveness would jeopardize their entire operation.

They tried to dampen the healing party, but Jesus just kept right on forgiving and healing in front of them while the paralyzed man became the man-who-was-formerly-paralyzed, and his friends rejoiced.

And each time God brought this story to my mind, I responded like a kid in middle school – “boring.” I yawn. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I remember the story. It’s nice.

Nice?

Yeah, nice. Great fodder for children’s Sunday school. Makes a solid skit. Perfect for those four kids who can’t memorize lines, but need parts on children’s Sunday, but what has that got to do with the very real problem I’m praying about, Lord? We don’t cut holes in roofs where I live. I think that’s the wrong story for this particular problem.

I’m sort of stupid sometimes. Right in front of God.

Then, finally, when God brings the four friends to mind for the eighth or ninth time, I humor Him. (He’s clearly not going to let it go!) Fine. Fine. I’ll read the story. I’ll think about it.  I’ll try to imagine real people, not some Sunday school flannel-graph version of this dramatic, public healing.

So, that’s what I do.

And I wait for some startling new answer to the very complicated problems facing me and so many people I love.

It starts to annoy me that we don’t know anything really, about these four friends. It appears to be just a very straightforward story about four friends doing everything they can to get their friend to Jesus.

That’s all we know about them. They care about their friend, and they get their friend to Jesus.

Oh. (Wait for it.) I get it. (Repentance is simultaneous with the onset of insight.)

These four friends didn’t need to know how to treat their friend medically,

or how to diagnose him mentally,

or how to counsel him spiritually.

All they needed to know to do was to get him to Jesus.

Whew! I can do that.

I can get the people I love to Jesus. I can kneel before His throne, and speak their name, and tell Him how much they need Him. He’s clearly smarter than I am. He doesn’t need me to suggest solutions, or ask for exactly the right thing, or figure out the source of their problem, or whether they deserve to be rescued.

I just need to get them to Jesus. He’ll take it from there, thank you, very much.

If this seems a little simplistic to you, ask yourself who you’d rather be

– one of the know-it-all, self-righteous Pharisees clucking their tongues standing in the crowd

– or one of the friends watching from the roof as Jesus transforms their faith into something that changes the life of their friend.

I have my answer. What’s yours? Can I cut a hole in the roof for you?

Why I’ve Started Cutting Holes in Rooftops https://t.co/dKpo7FB7cl the best way to help your hurting friends #Jesus #Prayer #withGod

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) June 27, 2017

Is God Waiting for You over by the Sink?

I expend an awful lot of energy trying not to be human. Is this ever a problem for you?

There is always so much to do. I mean, it’s right there in front of us all, isn’t it? Jobs, goals, ministries, visions, dreams, passions, callings.

These glorious God-ordained pursuits stand in constant tension with other concerns looming in front of us: dirty dishes, the bathroom scale, a nagging cough, a spouse’s worries, the postponed date with a friend.

But, those common, every day, mundane items on our attention list have little sparkle. No one is likely to give a testimony about how seeing me wash my own dishes spoke to them about the nature of Jesus Christ, or about how knowing that I watch what I eat gave them a glimpse of heaven.

I doubt that I’ll ever give an interview about how keeping my doctor and dental appointments were key to publishing my first novel, or that sitting and listening to my husband, a friend, or one of my children was the secret to blogging success.

Somehow, it was easier when my children were small to see the hand of God in the everyday. Caring for them provide

d ample opportunity to see a spark of the divine in the mundane. How quickly I’ve lost that.

Somehow, once they were grown, I became easy prey for the lie of this world that NOW I was free to pursue GREAT things, and it was now my DUTY to exert a full-court press to ACHIEVE.

Recently, in between my full-time job and writing at either ends of the day along with the basic care and feeding of my loved ones, I realized I’m doing a lousy job of taking care of myself (again). Plus, I’ve lost the joy of serving others (just ask the others, they’ll testify to that). Where it used to feel like a calling, now it just feels like an interruption. Totally, my bad.

I’m not eating right. I don’t move enough. I’m not laughing very often, or taking time to keep appointments. If I do start a movie, I don’t enjoy it – either checking my laptop occasionally through it or falling asleep in the middle.

I don’t take lunch at work because, you know, I’m so IMPORTANT. And even my prayer life is driven because apparently, I KEEP THE WORLD SPINNING through my requests to the Almighty. See how far off I’ve gotten? Does this ever happen to you?

Then, I remembered a movie called The Big Year. It’s about birding and three men in pursuit of seeing the most species of bird in one year.

That’s the story, but really what the movie was about is the choices we make along the way to achieving our big dreams. What do we interrupt our journey to do? What will we ignore? What sacrifices are we willing or not willing to make?

The flick illustrated how hard it is to make good choices. The movie isn’t a road map for life, but just a light way of God r

eminding me that, while on earth we reward the results – heaven tracks the choices we make along the way.

So, today I suddenly remember that God is there by my breakfast bowl. I’ve spotted Him in doctor’s waiting rooms, and there have been times when the laundry room has become a holy place because of His presence there.

He’s not stalking me, or waiting to nag, or pounce on me with some great task. He’s just crazy about doing this life WITH us. Beside us. Aware of us, and us aware of Him. That’s our God who is WITH.

He’s no more willing to be present with me when I’m at my keyboard, or sitting with a family in crisis, than He is when I’m listening to my husband discuss his plans for remodeling, or taking a walk on a sunny day.

In pursuit of God’s plan for our lives, we must often work hard and make sacrifices, but we don’t get to pretend we aren’t human without falling apart at some point along the way.

God rejects my sin, but He doesn’t reject my humanity. He designed me with a need for sleep, food, movement, laughter, companionship, and daily maintenance. Psalm 127:2 ESV says this: It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep.”

He knows we are hobbits and He takes us on adventures anyway. But He also knows there’s a point when every hobbit needs a meal, a pipe, a song, and a good rest.

How about you? Are you due for some laughter? Is your scale sending you a message? Are you smiling at the subjects of your ministry, but scowling and resenting those you serve in your own home? Are achieving your goals, but missing your calling?

I invite you to embrace your own humanity today. Ask God to open your eyes to the moments you’re missing, and the choices you could be making along the way.

For me, I’ll continue to embrace a weekly day of rest, but now, I’ll also seize the moments of rest God frequently disguises as interruptions woven into the everyday. I’ll pay attention to opportunities I have to snatch joy, to catch God’s eye, to exhale, to remember my body is a gift to be appreciated – not a weight to drag around, and to simmer in the slow cooker of God’s presence.

Maybe He’s waiting for you just over by the sink.

Is God Waiting for You over by the Sink? https://t.co/fqrAGixrOV He just may be – He loves this “with” life #Jesus #Godwithus #uswithGod

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) June 24, 2017

2017 Reader Survey

I write this blog to express my heart for God and to serve you, all of your faithful readers.

Every few years, I like to find out more about who you are and what you need from a Christian blogger. It will help me improve my writing and this website if you’ll take just a moment to complete this survey. It’s anonymous to allow you to feel free to share your heart!

Thank you for taking time to let me in on more about you and thank you for your faithful, kind support.

Mercy and grace, Lori

The Day My Dad was Almost a Burglar

Have you ever felt great frustration because your hard work and service weren’t producing the expected results?

My daughter was babysitting on the other end of town one night when she called to let me know she’d locked her keys in her car – BOTH sets!

I suggested she call the road service, but she thought of my father. As the local fire chief, Dad kept a variety of tools in his car trunk specifically for getting into locked vehicles in case of emergencies. She called, and he agreed to come. “I know right where you’re babysitting. I’m on my way over,” he said.

Twenty minutes later, I received a text from her. “Mom, I called Papa to ask where he was, and he said he’s working on my car – except, he’s not. What do I do?”

I experienced an intense moment of dread. I texted back. “Call him right now.”

She did call him and their conversation went like this:

“Papa, where are you?”

“Right out in the driveway working on your car. Why haven’t you turned on the light?”

“The light is on. I’m looking at my car right now. You’re not working on it, Papa.”

“Whose car AM I working on?”

At that, my well-intentioned, but geographically-mistaken father rapidly withdrew his car-unlocking tool from the stranger’s vehicle, hopped back into his well-marked fire chief car, and made a hasty exit out of the wrong driveway several streets away from where my daughter waited.

There’s great value in hard work. Also, value in the desire to serve God and others. But, we must be working in the light and have the proper direction for our efforts to pay off. The same effort, skill, and intent – misdirected and employed in the dark – can even be considered criminal.

When I was a little girl, I was notoriously impatient. More than once, an adult would come upon me yanking at a stuck zipper, slamming against a door that wouldn’t budge, or hammering at a jar. That’s when I’d hear words that serve me well to this day “Lori Ann! Stop what you’re doing. Look at the situation. Think for a minute. Then try again.”

God replies the same way when I complain that all my spiritual efforts aren’t budging a thing: Lori, stop what you’re doing. Take a minute. Look at the situation with me. Reflect.

There is value in great effort, but many of us lose track of God’s voice or His direction and wind up investing great effort in the wrong direction. God’s firm and calming message comes through His Word to us, as it has to generations before:

“Now, therefore, thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways. You have sown much, and harvested little. You eat, but you never have enough; you drink, but you never have your fill. You clothe yourselves, but no one is warm. And he who earns wages does so to put them into a bag with holes. “Thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways.” Haggai 1:5-7

James says, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind.” James 1:5-6

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6

“Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” John 8:12

Is it dark where you’re working? Are you frustrated and weary wondering where are the results? Stop for a minute. Breathe. Reflect on your efforts with God. Ask Him to turn on the light. Maybe you’re in the wrong driveway.

The Day My Dad was Almost a Burglar https://t.co/799fFxCiRX #Jesus #amwriting #REFLECTION Are you feeling frustrated in your efforts for God

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) June 21, 2017

Why Shouldn’t Christians Suffer?

Why shouldn’t Christians suffer for our faith?

Humans are willing to suffer for all kinds of reasons, some of which seem trivial or even foolish to others.  Like camping out overnight in a parking lot to snag concert tickets or swallowing goldfish to set world records.

Other types of suffering are more understandable and endured by many.

Even amateur athletes train through injuries, grueling conditioning workouts, long-hours, and self-denial to achieve at the level to which they aspire. Adventurers leave family behind, invest hard-earned savings, and endure inconveniences, discomfort, and unpredictable conditions to experience mountain-tops or breathtaking views.

Others delay marriage and children, lose sleep, and miss family events to attain educational or career goals. Some walk away from high-paying jobs to serve the needy in inner cities, rural areas, or foreign lands.

Everyday, ordinary people suffer pain, hard work, and discomfort to attain their version of beauty, to express deeply held political views, to support causes dear to them, or to master an art they feel driven to pursue.

Why, in the world, should Christians not suffer for the sake of Christ?

Why would we not go into our faith with the understanding that we should expect to work hard, sacrifice, train, study, and endure discomfort to follow the narrow road walked first by our Lord?

Is spiritual growth and expansion of God’s kingdom somehow less worthy of sacrifice than higher education, athletic pursuits, careers, personal beauty, or artistic excellence?

Surely, we know from the outset that a relationship forged by bloodshed on a cross would merit our full attention, our every effort, and our willingness to lay down our lives, agendas, and expectations of ease?

If the world hated Jesus enough to kill Him, we might expect that the more we grow to be like Him, the less popular we might become with those who aren’t following the same path. There’s a certain inevitability about it for which we should prepare.

We shouldn’t seek suffering anymore than an Olympian seeks pain. Anyone wishing to excel in their field – whether it be battle or athletics, music or ministry – is not pursuing discomfort, but improvement in their calling. Still, they expect a measure of suffering along the path to that excellence.

Likewise, those of us who follow Jesus, are wise to count the cost of this road, chosen and traveled by so few. Times of hardship, loneliness, deprivation, endurance, suffering, pain, disappointment, and a measure of persecution are to be anticipated – and even, on some level, embraced as part of a greater plan for the glory of God.

To whine and tantrum through it all, to act as though we’re somehow victims is to miss the point.

A pro-football player is not a victim of his sport because he must take an ice-bath after a practice. A ballerina isn’t a victim of her art when she bandages her feet. A medical student isn’t a victim of his field when he spends several sleepless nights caring for patients. A soldier isn’t a victim of his commander when he spends hours learning to assemble and reassemble his weapon. A runner isn’t a victim of a marathon when he spends hours running. A traveler isn’t a victim of her journey when she endures icy temperatures and aching bones to reach a mountain view.

These are all people in pursuit of something worth suffering to find. As Christians, we are in pursuit of the fullness of life in Christ. There is no greater treasure. There is no greater thing.

We don’t suffer to earn our passage to glory. We’re saved by grace, through the blood of Jesus Christ, and we cannot add anything to it. And yet, to enter this grace, we enter a shared-life with Jesus, and so, we can expect to endure a similar path as He did.

Paul said it best in Romans 5:1-5 (ESV)

“Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.  Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

To know we have eternal life is to understand that everything we endure on this side of glory will have a lasting outcome. Nothing is in vain. Nothing happens out of God’s sight. Nothing is lost or wasted, save that which we withhold from this life we’ve chosen in Him.

So, isn’t it wise now, to learn to rejoice when others despise us? To learn to respond to wrath and rage with reason and gentle answers. To embrace meekness in the face of hostility. To ride into the coming days “humble and mounted on a donkey.”

To become students of love, truth, sacrifice, and mercy. To submit to the conditioning of hardships and trials with gratitude for the training that is meant to prepare us for the days to come? To rejoice in all things and learn now, that the joy of the Lord is our strength – not ease, not wealth, not power nor popularity, but Jesus now, and Jesus when greater trouble comes.

Why should we not suffer as Christians, loved ones?

And how we bear up under suffering, does this not testify to others of the nature and presence of Jesus?

And when others misunderstand us, decry us, dislike us, or even speak against us, does it not speak well of Christ if we continue to worship Him, to speak truth, and to love them no matter what they bring to bear against us?

If we live our freedom, will they not see the truth that Christ is the only path to the one freedom no one can ever take away?

Why Shouldn’t Christians Suffer? https://t.co/ExOOgLcPSy responding to hardship and resistance to the faith #Jesus #perseverance #endure

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) June 16, 2017

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Today’s Riddle: How is Bernie Sanders like an Alarm Clock?

The truth of Jesus Christ has always been offensive.

From the start, no one liked being told they weren’t good enough for God. Especially not the ones who were doing all they could to be good enough, and who felt very satisfied with the job they were doing.

The truth at the core of our faith is so offensive, the first Christians were threatened, cast out of their places of worship, bullied, pressured to be silent, exiled, arrested, imprisoned, tortured, stoned, and killed.

Early believers would never have tried to spread the gospel as a means of life improvement. They spread the truth at great cost because it is eternal truth.

For a brief heartbeat of history, one corner of the world became politer about rejecting the truth.

As civilization emerged in the West (thank you, to the church of Jesus Christ), there arose the thought that those who believed differently could reside next door to Christians in peace. For a few centuries, this thought made its home in Europe and America.

The gospel, however, remained offensive.

Recently, Bernie Sanders’ questioning of Russel Vought, made the offensive truth headline news. Well, parts of it, anyway – because that’s how this warfare thing works.

Make public only part of the truth. Allow time for only the first part of the question. Highlight the problem, and neglect the answer. Focus on the offense of sin, but absent Jesus from the discussion, so it’s an exercise in judgment and hopelessness.

Anyway, that’s what appeared in the headlines.

And those of us who enjoy being liked began to squirm in our cushioned pews.

There are days, to my shame, that I believe the whiteness factor of my teeth or the style of my hair are truly vital matters more worthy of my time and attention than the soul-state of my indifferent neighbors, or the Word of God resting on my bedside table, or my ability to explain what I believe with straightforward truth and mercy.

There are days, to my shame, where I believe what truly matters are the numbers on my scale, the dollars in my bank account, and the model of my car, not the size of my heart, the reach of my compassion, or the scope of my courage.

There are days, to my shame, when I labor for hours researching my next purchase, searching for the perfect recipe, or shopping for just the right bag for those shoes, but find I have no time for coffee with a struggling millennial asking tough questions, no time to see if the single mother in my office could use a free afternoon, no time to dig in with a solid teacher to truly understand the answer to the tough questions I’m afraid others will ask if they know I’m a Christian.

There are days, to my shame, when it’s more important to me what total strangers think about me than the condition of their lonely hearts. It’s more important that I appear sophisticated, educated, and relevant, than risk that appearance by passing them the secret to eternal life.

More important that I remain safe, comfortable, and under the radar of an unforgiving culture, than fulfill God’s desire for me by putting my faith into action, speaking it aloud, and acknowledging in public what I enjoy in those private hours with Him – there is no greater life than to know Jesus Christ and to live in the freedom He provides.

Today, I thank God for Bernie Sanders. God has used him in my life like an alarm clock to a sleeping soul at risk of being late to work. Bernie Sanders’ questions were no threat, but a kindness, a mercy from a loving God, a holy nudge to all of us hobbits enjoying second breakfast in our cozy wingback chairs.

Embrace discomfort, loved ones.

Know what, and why we believe what we do.

Press in to Jesus and let Him remind us why His opinion matters above everyone else’s.

Remember what freedom, love, forgiveness, peace with God, and eternal life mean to you, and imagine having no clue how to find them.

Learn to live the truth, speak the truth, recognize the truth, and be unafraid in the face of truth because the days ahead will call for courage and confidence in the face of lies.

Above all, ask God to fill you with the love that made His first followers able to rejoice in persecution, think of others before themselves, respond to anger and hatred with forgiveness and peace, and live lives worthy of the truth they proclaimed.

God has not changed. Neither has the truth of Jesus Christ. His power and love are available to us now, even as the world around us seems to change before our eyes.

We have nothing to fear unless we choose to live a lesser story than the one to which we’ve been called.

Today’s Riddle: How is Bernie Sanders like an Alarm Clock? https://t.co/DT5J454Ha9 #BernieSanders #Jesus #Gospel

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) June 13, 2017

The Most Powerful Act Humans Can Engage in This Side of Glory

Most Christians prepare to guard against threats from outsiders. Too often, though, our deepest wound turns out to be an “inside job.”

Ask King David.

The warrior king was heroic. Proven in battle against enemy nations.

Those who opposed the people of God found David a formidable opponent. He’d learned to rely completely on God and turned to Yahweh before every engagement. So, God’s true enemy knew David was most vulnerable at home.

David’s first taste of this threat was dodging Saul’s spears.

David was only a youth, soothing the sullen king with the strains of his harp. He did, indeed, know secret chords he played to please the Father. Chords that inadvertently raised the ire of Saul’s rebellious soul.

This should have been David’s first inkling that pure worship of the One True God who reigns can be the most dangerous act a human can engage in this side of glory.

The prince of the air rages against God’s church. His armies are ever watchful for this most effective weapon against the powers of darkness – the single soul engaged in pure worship before the One True God.

Too many of us fail to respect the power of worship.

Like children who have discovered a live grenade and toss it in a game of catch, we sometimes worship unawares that we’ve drawn the attention of evil forces hoping to shut us down before we realize what we’ve uncovered.

The enemy often seeks someone lurking inside God’s house to use against God’s children. 2 Samuel 6 is a lesson for us all that there is always more at work than we see:

The nation of Israel celebrated a great victory. They had recovered the Ark of God. They carried it along and rejoiced before God when suddenly, one of the oxen stumbled. Uzzah, assigned to escort the Ark, reached out to steady it. God struck and killed him.

The Ark was the embodiment of God’s presence with Israel. The poles designed for transporting were to prevent anyone from touching it. Uzzah violated this prohibition.

One of the mysteries of God we can barely grasp is His Holiness – His “otherness” from us. His voice was hard for the Israelites to bear. His presence overwhelming. His holiness so beyond us in our fallen state we dare not reach out and handle that which is holy.

The incident angered David. It left him sobered and afraid, this potent reminder that His Father God was also powerful, holy, and worthy of complete obedience.

At first, David refrained from bringing the Ark to the City of David. He placed it in the house of “Obed-edom the Gittite three months, and the Lord blessed Obed-edom and all his household.”  2 Samuel 6:11b

Thus, God demonstrated to David that while it can be a fearsome, holy responsibility to invite God into your household, He brings blessing along with His powerful presence.

As the Israelites processed the Ark into the City of David, David danced and worshiped before the Lord with abandon. It was noteworthy to the biblical writer that the king wore a linen ephod. David worshiped unguarded. His public worship demonstrated his complete adoration of the Lord.

His worship was so free and exuberant, he leapt and danced. This battle-hardened warrior set aside his armor and pride to yield himself wholly to the act of worship.

Satan found a willing weapon against David within his own household. Michael, David’s wife, daughter of Saul, “looked out of the window and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord, and she despised him in her heart.”

We despise most, what reminds us what we lack.

It is true now, that even within the church, there are lurking wolves, stunted sheep, and posers whose hearts fester envy, hatred, and all manner of evil against those who dance like crazy men and women before the Lord, against those who offer pure worship in the name of Jesus to the One True God.

Samuel continues his story in verse 20, “And David returned to bless his household. But Michal the daughter of Saul came out to meet David and said, “How the king of Israel honored himself today, uncovering himself today before the eyes of his servants’ female servants, as one of the vulgar fellows shamelessly uncovers himself!””

Ahh, the sarcasm intended to wither David’s joy and exuberance before God. Michal set herself up as “above all that.” She tried to bring David in line by painting him as an unsophisticated, thoughtless fool.

There are those within the visible church who try this same tactic on those in Christ they see as an embarrassment. Those foolish enough to take the Bible literally, who publicly speak of obedience and submission, those who follow God openly with guileless hearts.

David doesn’t fall prey to Satan’s snare in this moment. Even without armor, he enjoys the protection of the One True God he has worshiped with abandon.

David sees through Michal and replies, “And David said to Michal, “It was before the Lord, who chose me above your father and above all his house, to appoint me as prince over Israel, the people of the Lord—and I will celebrate before the Lord. I will make myself yet more contemptible than this, and I will be abased in your eyes.”

David has seen battle for the Lord. He has taken responsibility for the Ark of God. He knows the One he worships and this sets his priorities in right order. He withstands the scorn – even within his own household – unashamed.

Consider this then, when the minefield laid out to wound you falls within familiar territory – your community, your church, your home.

When faced with friendly fire, be unafraid to worship with abandon. Instead, dance like a crazy man right into the arms of freedom.

Worship offered in the name of Jesus to the One True God is a raised fist against the enemy on this outpost of glory until He comes.

Ask God for the courage to worship with abandon even in the face of a mocking world.

**I invite you to discover a powerful podcast on blog talk radio called Christian Devotions Speak Up, hosted by Scott McCausey. This week, he features an interview with a writer with whom you are probably too familiar. No Cowardly Christians Allowed with Lori Roeleveld

The Most Powerful Act a Human Can Engage in This Side of Glory https://t.co/mmBVldHDiJ can you guess what it is? #Jesus #Christian #worship

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) June 9, 2017