Lori Stanley Roeleveld's Blog, page 52

The Faith of the Redshirts – In Honor of the Martyrs at Home and Abroad

Redshirts.

If you know that reference immediately, welcome, friend. We can hang out and understand one another on a deep level. Some of you have no idea. That’s okay, too. I’ll explain.

In the world of Star Trek, sometimes the ship’s captain and his first officers must leave the starship Enterprise and transport to an alien world, so they form an “away team,” as in “away from the ship.” Key to every away team, as every Star Trek fan knows, is one or two previously unknown actors playing low ranking officers uniformed in redshirts. These crew members are expendable and serve one purpose.

They die.

Every time.

All faithful Star Trek fans understand this and anticipate it. Redshirt joins an away team. Away team arrives on planet. Redshirt dies. If there are two redshirts, one dies quickly. For the other one, death is delayed but still inevitable.

Why, you ask, is this plot device so integral to the storyline? The answer to that is twofold.

First, the deaths of the expendables illustrate the danger confronting the main characters. Second, the deaths of the expendables expose the extent of the enemy’s evil. In fact, the deaths of the expendables are particularly crucial when the enemy is beautiful, apparently peaceful, and surrounded by light. Recognizing evil can be tricky, but the deaths of the expendables expediently sort the good guys from the bad.

I was reminded of redshirts as I read the book of Acts and encountered, again, the account of Stephen’s martyrdom.

Stephen was a good man. A faithful follower of Christ. The religious leaders of his day tried to argue with him about his faith, but they couldn’t withstand his wisdom or the power of the Spirit within him. You may assume that if Stephen was faithful to Christ, speaking wisdom, and full of the Spirit, then his words should have prevailed and his opponents should have been changed.

That’s not what happened. Instead, God dressed Stephen in a redshirt.

The religious leaders spread lies about him. They stirred up everyone against him. When it came time to defend himself, Stephen chose, instead, to speak to them once more about why they should turn from their evil ways and follow Jesus. He refused to protect himself for the sake of those who persecuted him. He entrusted his protection to God.

It’s beautiful that God opened the doors of heaven to fill Stephen’s sight as the others stoned him to death. Jesus was there for Stephen in that moment, but it ended in blood and death. His death was heinous and unjust. But it served to illustrate the depths of evil in the hearts of men and the blood-hunger of the evil one who defies God and seeks to destroy those who follow Him.

The death of a redshirt expediently sorts out the followers of evil from the followers of the True Light.

The difference between redshirts on Star Trek and the redshirts of our faith is that the characters on Star Trek are expendable and unwitting victims. Those of us who follow Jesus know our lives are sealed up with Him and when Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory (Colossians 3:4). We willingly lay down our lives for the love of Jesus Christ and for the advancement of His kingdom until He returns.

Jesus is not like the captains of the starship Enterprise who always survived (in accordance with their well-negotiated contracts). Quite the opposite, in fact. In accordance with His obedience to the Father and His love for us, Jesus came below decks, donned a redshirt, and laid down His life willingly so that all of us expendables could have everlasting life.

Him.

That’s why we accept the redshirt as part of our uniform. Jesus led the way and we follow. On this side of glory, success doesn’t always look like success. Stephen’s story is a success story. Many, many stories that look like failures on this side of glory will be featured attractions on the wall of success in heaven. Some of them are listed in Hebrews 11:32-40.

In Star Trek, the redshirts are unknowns. In the Kingdom of God, the name of every redshirt is written on the hand of God, known well to Him who holds the power over life and death. Being a redshirt takes faith, but Stephen will testify that faith is not misplaced if it’s in Jesus Christ.

What color is your shirt? In the end, the redshirts win.

**This post is an excerpt from my book, Running from a Crazy Man (and other adventures traveling with Jesus). It’s been on my mind this week since the shootings at Umpqua Community College in Rosedale, OR, and the news out of Syria about twelve Christians brutally martyred this past summer.

We in the West must became the students of those currently enduring this intense persecution. They risk everything for the sake of Christ. They have learned to love with their very lives. Can we love them with our prayers, by telling their stories, and by living each day for the gift that it is? Can we learn from their deaths that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life?

Faith of the Redshirts http://t.co/daaBAqiBLI in honor of #OregonShooting and #ISISkilling 12 Christians in #Syria Living faith #StarTrek

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) October 6, 2015

More Powerful than We Imagine

This is a time to weep.

More violence.

More questions.

More injured.

More dead.

I don’t have answers. I wish I did, but I suspect that if I did, they wouldn’t comfort the way we think they would. Even if I had the exact answers to the questions raised when innocent people die, it wouldn’t end the weeping.

Humans, we always think that if we just knew why, we could cope, but answers don’t raise the dead. Answers don’t resurrect. Answers aren’t the source of life.

I do know some things.

Politicians can’t control what’s coming.

Earthly powers, presidents, and kings can’t order men and women to stop thinking violent thoughts that fester and give birth to fingers on triggers, fists on jaws, palms on bombs, or swords on throats.

The Supreme Court can’t effectively rule a cure for the evil residing in hearts closed off from their Creator.

We are complex, creative, inventive, and powerful beings so when we go dark, the result is unfathomable. Talking heads on the evening news will not untangle the threads to the magic carpet on which these demons ride.

And us, the ones who weep, we need to watch our own hearts. There’s a market for this madness. We consume these headlines, these photos, each detail, every report with an insatiable appetite for more details, faster graphics, if it bleeds it leads because that’s what we demand, and that should drive us to our knees asking God to search our hearts and purify us of every mustard seed of evil that might take root in our own minds.

God has warned us that our love can grow cold because of these days. These are the times when we need to draw near to Him, the Consuming Fire, to reignite our hearts.

We want to call them monsters. Disturbed. Crazy. Mentally ill. Misdirected. Terrorists. Anti-social. Delusional. Demonic. Possessed. We don’t want to recognize their humanity because the most frightening truth is that yesterday they sat beside us at the concert, stood behind us in line for coffee, sold us a car, wrote a prescription for our uncle, or delivered us safely to our door and we didn’t recognize how close they were to mass homicide.

That is a fear that could paralyze if it weren’t for the Perfect Love that casts out fear.

This is a time for weeping. Lives have been stolen. Others changed forever. We should weep with those who weep.

And remember when the talkers talk that the God who warned us of these days, tell us that sin is so destructive, so poisonous, so much at the root of our perversion, He sent His Son to die to save us from it. He is the Answer if people will avail themselves of the remedy.

Paul warns us of this in Romans 1:28-31: “And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not to be done. They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless.”

If you need to understand why, that is why.

If you need to know what to do, read Psalm 37:7-9 “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him;    fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices! Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath! Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil. For the evildoers shall be cut off, but those who wait for the Lord shall inherit the land.”

This is a time to weep but it is also a time to act. If we are not to be overcome by evil, we must tether ourselves to His goodness. We are kingdom builders and every place our light shines, darkness flees. In Christ, we are more powerful than we imagine. Don’t wait for the world to appreciate that. Everyone takes the light for granted until it goes out. The light, however, should never neglect to shine.

The answers today are the same place they were yesterday – the darkness tries to hide them so we must light the way to God’s great heart where the only remedy to evil resides in Jesus.

More Powerful than We Imagine http://t.co/Ak8Pwx2CAe comfort in the wake of evil #OregonShooting #amwriting #faith

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) October 2, 2015

Were You Born in the Wrong Time?

So, there’s all this stuff about the blood moon, Israel, Iran, and the end of the world popping through my newsfeed, even when I’m not on Facebook

It’s become part of my life’s fabric, this message that we’re barreling toward some inevitable conclusion and that the groans of this planet are more than old age, they are, in fact labor pains which, as we all know, don’t go on forever, at some point, they cease.

My children, in their twenties, don’t remember a time that terrorism wasn’t a headline. It wasn’t hard for them to accept that Bill Cosby isn’t as funny in person.

Brown University just stripped the Cos of his honorary degree and that reminded me why the Lord is slow to judge. Bill’s become just another headline proving God’s Word to be true because Paul wrote in 1 Timothy 5:24 “The sins of some people are conspicuous, going before them to judgment, but the sins of others appear later.” Like a slime trail, I think, from a slug, and that’s just what it feels like when someone we thought was something, turns out to have been using their good face to hide their bad behavior.

But, you see, God sees all. No one makes a fool of the Almighty so judgment doesn’t happen now, it comes at the end when every choice we’ve made plays out, not just in our own lives but in the next generation and the next because aren’t Hitler’s evils still spawning disciples and won’t that be added to his crimes on the other side?

Comforting, though, is the next verse Paul wrote that tells the flip side of God’s view, “So also good works are conspicuous, and even those that are not cannot remain hidden.”

So, our good choices aren’t immediately judged and rewarded with an earthly gold star or a check in the mail but they echo, too, through time, affecting the next generation and the next, so they snowball into a great eternal award banked for us in the safest of places to be enjoyed forever (not just until that blood moon prophecy proves true and we peter out like this old planet.)

And I hear people say these times are bad, the days are evil, and the future worse, but I don’t listen because these are the only times I have, this now, this today, this blood moon span, and if God didn’t design me for these days, well, don’t you know, He’d have plopped me down on Little House in the Prairie where I could have lost a few babies to dysentery within the first year of their lives and labored from sunrise to sundown every day just to prepare food and wash clothes and I can’t sew worth spit so, wouldn’t my family have been in rags?

No, God designed me for this time, this blood moon time, this hurtling toward the end everyone feeling the urgency and the pressure of the throws of global labor time.

Since He loves me, I choose to believe it when He says I’m also equipped to survive, to thrive, to be alive through these days and to love, too. To know joy and strength even when fatherly, funny men falter,fail. And if you’re here with me, which you are because you’re reading these words, don’t you know He designed and equipped you, too, to face the blood moon, no matter what it brings.

So say with me, as the Psalmist said, “But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in your hand; rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from my persecutors! Make your face shine on your servant; save me in your steadfast love!” Psalm 31:14-16

Tether your heart to His great beating love and hit your knees, listening to Him, praying for our children, our loved ones, our neighbors, our enemies – even the really bad ones, knowing that you’ve been called to this moment, to this today, to these priestly duties during this blood-moon-fallen-stars mess of an age.

And when we grasp that we were designed for these times, placed in these days, set in this time and space by a loving, intelligent, faithful God, when we get that our lives are no mistake and that we aren’t victims of the evildoers but faithful warriors assigned by God, when we get THAT

then we can keep our eyes open as we roller coaster to the inevitable big bang conclusion that was determined from the very start and be grateful, truly grateful, that He chose us to live in the days after the cross, in the wake of the resurrection, in the coming of the Holy Spirit, in the creation of the church, in the building of the kingdom, in the fulfillment of prophecy, in the climax of His story, in the hours before His return.

Oh, yes, loved ones, we are not ill fated, we are not woeful or to be pitied, we are not mismatched with our times; no, for God is loving and sovereign and He sees everything.

We are the ones who get to witness what it’s all been about, to know the filling of His Spirit, to see Him work His wonders, to receive His provision in the moment, to thrive on manna, to endure persecution, to praise through pressure, to point the way, to speak truth to power, and to stand on that judgment day and declare – yes, yes you were told the truth of Christ because we told it, we proclaimed it, we mouthed it with our dying breath so God is just in all His judgments when He brings the full weight of His revenge down on your terrorizing souls.

We were designed for these days. Pay attention. God is moving, loved ones, and we will see.

Were you born in the wrong time? Here’s how you know: http://t.co/zqsFtuZsek #bloodmoon #BloodMoonEclipse #billcosby #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 29, 2015

 

Where There is Shouting, Let me Whisper Truth

If I can shout louder than you can, does that make me right?

Does the volume of the outcry justify the stand?

If there are many us, thousands, in fact, and we all shout at once, does that mean that now we own the truth?

When people shout at us, we’re tempted to shout back. Shouting feels powerful and we want to match our opposition power to power. Which would be fine if our call was to wage war as the world does.

But, it’s not.

Our call is to be like Christ. Our call, loved ones, as Paul cautioned us, is to “be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity.” (Colossians 4:5)

This week, women who are vehemently pro-choice are “shouting” their abortions through social media. It would be natural to shout back. To try to shout over them. To attempt to shout them down. To sarcastically or smugly match their shouts with counter-shouts. To loudly condemn them as shouters and shout our faith back in their faces.

That doesn’t sound like Jesus to me.

Jesus stood facing Pilate in the hours before His crucifixion. I’m sure He could hear the shouts of the crowd. “Crucify Him. Crucify Him.”

Now, Jesus’ voice is like the “roar of many waters.” He created the wind and waves, fire, tornadoes, hurricanes, and volcanic explosions. If shouting makes a person right, if shouting wins the day, if shouting proved the point, He’d have shouted the crowd to smithereens.

Instead, He stood silent before His captors. He answered Pilate simply, quietly, and with a calm that displayed true strength.

There’s a story in 1 Kings 19: 11b-12 about Elijah meeting with God. As Elijah waited for Him, this is what transpired: “And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper.”

God was in the whisper.

Truth doesn’t have to shout. Righteousness can be found in a whisper. God can quietly reign.

It’s tempting to shout back.

Jesus was always presented with temptations to use the weapons of this world. Satan and the Pharisees came at Him a thousand different ways trying to rattle His cage enough to get Him to fight on their field.

He stood strong and in that quiet stand demonstrated how true power conducts itself. It doesn’t fall for strength-draining diversions, it doesn’t walk into set ups, it doesn’t let the enemy determine its agenda.

In the face of women shouting their abortions today, I thought about the prayer of Francis of Assisi:

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love;

for it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

And I thought, where there is shouting, let me whisper truth.

There is no light at the end of the abortion tunnel even when people march that way with singing, shouting, bright lights, celebrities, politicians, crowds of company, and catchy hashtags. Abortion leads to death and death is nothing to shout about – ever.

But, we are called to be wise in the way we act. We do not follow a shouting God. He doesn’t have to. His truth stands strong in the whisper.

Choose life, she whispered, and those seeking truth heard it loud and clear.

Where there is shouting, let me whisper truth. http://t.co/0dETQ2hbUW #ShoutYourAbortion #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 24, 2015

The Thing We’ve Forgotten – and It’s Killing Us

Confused. We’ve confused the calling on our lives and it’s killing us.

You would think, if you spend any time on social media or Christian media in general, that there is a gospel command for every Christian to:

try to get as famous as we absolutely can,

have an opinion about every topic discussed in the marketplace,

ultimately make contact with hundreds of thousands of people with the gospel

and that anything less than this is a secondary calling. So that the believing singer who wins a showcase on American Idol is greater than the woman who faithfully sings alto for the choir in a small country church for forty years.

And the guitarist who gets a recording contract when his Youtube video goes viral for Jesus is somehow more pleasing to God than the youth leader who moves a handful of teens around a campfire on Friday nights with the songs he writes at the end of a long day toiling at his sales job.

Or the bestselling author has realized God’s true potential for his gift with words while the storytelling mother who writes skits for her puppet troupe to teach children in Sunday school and Vacation Bible school has somehow fallen short.

And yet, does God not see us all? Are we not all visible on His cosmic Internet? Can He not tune in and smile at the girl singing to soothe the residents of a nursing home as easily as the lead singer of Switchfoot?

Does He not revel in the bright quilts designed by humble hands to give to cancer patients or little dresses sewn to send to Haitian children as easily as He celebrates the Christian artist with an exhibition in a New York art show?

This twisted thinking – this notion that if we cannot become famous for it or make money with it or reach a million people by it that what we create is a waste of time. This backward notion is the root of many of our physical, mental, emotional, and even spiritual ills.

We were created in God’s image and He is a Creator not a consumer.

He revels in the work of His hands. His music, art, craftsmanship, and storytelling are evident throughout creation whether in places inhabited by millions or in remote locations observed by no one but Him. He is detailed, excellent, beautiful, and extravagant with His designs, compositions, and textures in everything from longstanding mountain vistas to momentary sunsets or cloud formations.

He is whimsical and awesome with the design of great forests as well as the details on the backs of millipedes that lurk beneath rocks and soil.

He is often artistic and glorious for no reason at all and we are made in His image.

Each of us has within us the creative spark and if we employ that creativity, even in small, stumbling, humble ways, our lives are enriched and so is the piece of the world right where we are – even if only God witnesses our efforts.

We should be making music, writing stories, working with wood, cloth, paint, or flowers, dancing, or weaving, sculpting with metal or with stone, singing or signing to God’s glory throughout our lives. We knew this once but this knowledge has somehow faded from our understanding.

If we created more and consumed less, we would be a healthier people and each of us would experience the joy of working on a project with our Father, feeling His hand guide our own, knowing the smile of His approval at our efforts even when we hit a sour note or mar the canvas with a mistaken brush stroke.

In those moments, we would feel His amazing patience with us and with our learning and I believe that knowledge would spill over into other parts of our spiritual lives.

Each of us has the opportunity to learn at the feet of a Master in every craft and the end is nothing compared to the joy of that process. Paul, who traveled and taught but who also wrote and fashioned tents with his hands penned these verses:

“But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one.” I Thessalonians 4:10-12

God Himself blessed the creative arts from our earliest efforts at building a civilization that pleases Him. We are hard-wired to create – everything from poetry and cakes to stonewalls and sidewalk art because we take after our Father. Find something to do with your hands, play with the possibilities, be a child again in your Father’s workshop, encourage the same in others and see if your spirit isn’t fed and nurtured and healed.

See if the world isn’t a better place! See if others don’t get a glimpse of kingdom come through you.

I love when the world testifies to God’s design without even trying. This Ted Talk is worth watching – the connection between play and mental health. Grown ups play by creating. Seriously, go out an play.

The Thing We’ve Forgotten – and it’s Killing Us http://t.co/tFXTivgRhS Called to be creators, not consumers #amwriting #creativeChristians

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 21, 2015

Samwise Gamgee Can Get Us Through These Days

I terrified myself this week. Truly experienced long moments of icy panic.

It had been a full day of meeting with families for my day job. After leaving one family’s home, I mentally mapped my route back to my office to pick up some gift cards and then to my next appointment on the other side of the state. (It’s Rhode Island so we’re not talking longer than a 45-minute drive.) I swung my car onto route 1 and shifted my mind into automatic for the trip to my office.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, I didn’t recognize where I was. I knew I should recognize it. I drive route 1 almost every day. I know every inch of route 1. I told myself I was being silly as I searched the landscape for a mental handhold. Nothing.

I truly didn’t recognize where I was and when I saw a sign for 95 north, I felt terrified. I shouldn’t be seeing that sign and seeing it made it even harder for me to make sense of my surroundings. My office is south of where my appointment had been.

I spotted a sign for exit 8a and knew that in the past I had taken that exit but still couldn’t place why it was suddenly located here. I took it. As I followed the exit south, eventually making my way back onto route 1, I correctly reasoned that I had thoughtlessly entered route 1 north instead of south fifteen minutes earlier. Assuming I was heading south, the landmarks on route 1 north made no sense to my stressed and weary mind.

That panic is how many of us feel about the changing landscape of our country, our culture, our churches, and modern life in general. We travel the same route we’ve always traveled from cradle to coffin and we know we should recognize where we are along the way but often, we scramble to make sense of landmarks that seem wildly out of place. Humanity has taken a seriously wrong turn so we live our days with a baseline of panic that we should know where we are but we don’t.

When I started working with families in crisis back in the 1980’s, even people who didn’t identify as Christians had a general agreement that there are right and wrong absolutes. If they chose to do wrong, they called themselves rebels, mavericks, or outlaws but whatever they called it, they acknowledged that it was a departure from God’s design.

Now, there is no consensus on right living. Anything can be okay. What used to be considered wrong is now glorified and those who recognize wrong are vilified, constantly pressured to conform to the majority notion that every behavioral choice is good.

As the world enters this period of crazy spin, we scramble for handholds, landmarks, and solid ledges to gain perspective. I find most of my pitons in God’s Word. Psalm 37 is one of the places my fingers grip. Another is 2 Timothy 3. These passages remind me that even if the road looks unfamiliar, I’m still capable, in Christ, of navigating safely home.

Daily prayer. Worship alone and worship with others. Obedience. Appropriating joy. Enjoying God and serving others. These are my landmarks – even when they suddenly appear set on an unfamiliar highway. These are my gripping places. These are what hold me in place as the world turns.

Getting lost in Rhode Island is like misplacing the mayonnaise in the refrigerator. You know that eventually you will find it so there’s no real reason for fear.

That is also true of our travel through these times. We may feel lost but with God, we’re home already. No matter which way we turn, Holy Spirit GPS will guide us so every detour, wrong turn, and spin can be overcome.

Have you ever lost your way? Do you ever feel as though the once familiar road through this life suddenly seems like we’ve transported into a Martian landrover?

I’m fine now, by the way. This incident was a factor of long work hours and stressful appointments but, just in time, I’m off work for an extended weekend.

These are unsettling times, loved ones, so we must train ourselves not to fear. Humanity changes but God remains the same.

God set us down, each of us, in this place and these time. He determined us for these days. We were created for just this adventure so I have to say, I agree with Samwise Gamgee when he says:

“I know we are going to take a very long road, into darkness; but I know I can’t turn back. It isn’t to see Elves now, nor dragons, nor mountains, that I want – I don’t rightly know what I want: but I have something to do before the end, and it lies ahead, not in the Shire.”

—The Fellowship of the Ring, “A Shortcut to Mushrooms”

What do you have to do, loved one? Let’s find out together.

Samwise Gamgee Can Get Us Through These Days http://t.co/u0x9qvxCtc Find out how. #LOTR #Christianfiction #amwriting #faith #frodolives

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 17, 2015

Faith as Blood Sport

If your father gave you a sword, the first thing he would teach you is to handle it with care.

Swords are sharp, he’d say, with a serious scowl. They’re sharp for a purpose and you’ll learn to use it for that purpose but you must respect the blade. Always respect the blade. Especially because it’s double-edged. Fail to respect the blade and you’re likely to hurt someone else with a swipe and yourself on the back swing.

As a child, you may defy him in a weak moment. Children always have to test the limits and you’d be tempted to see just how sharp the blade is. What can it cut? How much will it hurt? But most children learn quickly. One cut and you’d show proper caution going forward.

Once you matured, no one would need to remind you to respect the blade. You’d know your own sword as if it was an extension of your forearm. You’d have trained and practiced with it. You would have used it in battle. It would travel with you and rest with you. Your sword would be your essential possession. Your inheritance. Your connection with your father. Your defense against the enemy. Protection for your loved ones. You would never take it for granted.

Our culture is rife with immature children wielding their swords like blunt instruments and creating havoc and damage for everyone in their path.

Our Father has given us a powerful sword.

For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. Hebrews 4:12 (ESV)

 In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, Ephesians 6:16-17 (ESV)

He wants us to treasure it, practice with it, understand it, and train to handle it properly. It is for our defense against the evil one. It can slice through deception and darkness like a light saber. It is a believer’s essential weapon, our comfort, our connection with our Father.

But, we must respect the blade.

Scripture isn’t meant to be a dart we toss at another for sport. Blog to blog aimed at this one’s argument or that one’s public stand. This hurts both the victim of the dart and the rest of the believing church on the back swing. It’s petty. It’s ugly. It’s like watching a married couple argue in public. It serves no one.

Scripture isn’t meant to be a club with which we pummel our enemies or to batter those who have fallen prey to the deception of the age. Imagine Luke Skywalker using a light-saber to batter an old woman who disagreed with his politics.

Certainly, healthy debate between well-matched swordsman is good training for both but it is accomplished with respect, self-control, and skill. It doesn’t look like a thug bludgeoning a victim in a dark alley.

These are challenging days. Challenging. Satan pumps deception into the atmosphere like an invisible gas. We need to proceed with courage and caution.

If one of us takes a stand based on our understanding of Scripture and lands in jail, the rest of us would be wise to take a beat before drawing our swords. Certainly, we should turn to them. Open God’s Word, study, pray, discuss with mature tones, and respect. Always, always, we should keep in mind that the one taking the stand is family.

Family sticks together. Who would ever want to join a family who tear into one another in public? Who would ever want to join a family who beat one another up in front of their enemy? It’s been said by others but Jesus said they will know we are His disciples by our love, not because we out versed someone with Bible passages.

Our Father has given us a sword. We should be trained in it and know how to wield it skillfully and with grace. We must always respect the blade.

The enemy can incite people to throw us into the ring and cheer for us to fight but we don’t have to give them a show. Swordplay is only a sport in times of peace and we, loved ones, live in a time of war. Swordplay is serious business. Thumbs up or thumbs down from the stands, we are in the ring together. Our Father would never have us slice in one another with the weapon He crafted for our protection.

Our faith is not a blood sport. In these challenging days, let us conduct ourselves with honor, especially towards those in the family of Christ. Keep your sword with you at all times but always respect the blade.

Faith as Blood Sport http://t.co/4h3rxcXUlM Christians carry a sword but watch the blade #KimDavis #GodsWord #Bible #love

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 14, 2015

Annoyed by People of Every Hue

I have been annoyed by people of every skin color.

That’s what I was thinking, sitting in a room full of Christians I call family.

One unspoken discomfort we quietly endure in the family of God is open sharing time at public gatherings. It can be a joy. Or, it can be a form of spiritual waterboarding.

While some Christians are gifted with brevity, with awareness of their audiences’ interest level, and with the ability to edit unnecessary details,  other Christians are not. But, because we’re accustomed to sacrifice in the family of God, both kinds of Christians are invited to “share.”

Hence, the annoyance factor.

Occasionally, an entire assembly of intelligent, loving people are taken hostage by one oblivious sister (or brother) with the advantage of being the one gripping a microphone before a group of people called by God to patient endurance.

Each one sits squirming, not daring to make eye contact with others. We wonder if, just perhaps, if we can conjure up an ounce of genuine compassion, maybe God will notice and silence the sharer quickly.

That day, I’d already explored the full scope of my natural gracious compassion with the current speaker and she showed no sign of stopping so I knew I wasn’t fooling God. I just gave up pretending, hoping the Holy Spirit would suddenly flood me with a supernatural interest in rambling, tangential, personal details.

That’s when it occurred to me there are boring people of every skin color known to humanity.

The woman with the mic doesn’t share my skin color but I didn’t find her ethnic background a barrier to finding her endless, mind-numbing speech torturous to endure just like I would with a boring Caucasian woman.

That’s when I scanned the faces of the other worshipers and thought, “Why do we let other people tell us about our own faith experience?” This gathering of multiple ethnic backgrounds is my experience of Christianity. It has been my experience that the house of God is a place of racial reconciliation – not perfectly, and not without intentional effort, but under His cover, we do make progress, one relationship at a time.

The headline we usually see on the church is that “eleven o’clock on Sunday morning is the most segregated hour of the week.” To which I say, HEY! show up one Sunday, my friend and then come back midweek, to small group, to ministry meetings, and prayer circles and conferences and church family celebrations. Every color is represented in God’s family and inside His great heart is where we are most apt to learn to love.

In my experience, there have been some congregations of predominantly one ethnicity but every single one has been welcoming to those of other cultural backgrounds. Growing up loving Jesus meant for me that judgment and exclusion weren’t options. Christians of every color have universally taught me to love and accept my brothers and sisters of all backgrounds – even the boring ones (a characteristic, by the way, that can’t be spotted with the naked eye.)

In fact, it’s within this context of family that I’ve been free to cross bridges. To ask people from different countries or ethnic backgrounds to teach me about their experiences with God, with culture, and with racial divide. I’ve certainly been hurt within the church and so have my friends of other skin colors but that’s like saying my brother and I hurt one another growing up. We’re family. It happens. What better place to have our conversations than from within the boundaries of forgiveness, grace, mercy, compassion, and truth?

Within the Body of Christ, we’ve already openly confessed that we’re sinners, we’re guilty, we’re faulted, we’re broken, and we’re in need of salvation. Do we have prejudices? Yup. I, for one, struggle to love boring ramblers. But God gives me no other option than to listen to the testimony of my rambling brothers and sisters and, in fact, to learn to love everyone else He chooses to include in our great family.

And they’re stuck learning to love me. Even though I’m white. Even though I’m predisposed to love brief, tidy, pithy testimonies. Even though I’m impatient and sarcastic. Even though I rely heavily on the Holy Spirit for compassion for boring people.

When the boring woman stopped speaking, I heard sighs from people of every hue. Maybe her rambling speech was part of God’s plan to give us all another shared experience. Bored into bonding. Could be part of the plan.

Why don’t we tell more of our stories? Why don’t we speak out about the relationship building that happens in the church? Maybe we take it for granted. Maybe we’re convinced by the media it only happens in our little corner of Christianity. Maybe we’re afraid of the backlash. Could be, we’re afraid of being shouted down. We might be but that shouldn’t stop us.

Through Jesus Christ, people of different color experience communion. Sometimes, we bore one another but we tolerate even the boring people because, well, we’re family. C’mon. Click on the comments and tell a story.

Annoyed by People of Every Hue http://t.co/Z2DoiByAEl racial #reconciliation and the church #amwriting #faith What’s the real story?

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 10, 2015

This Ain’t That Kind of Blog Post

I wanted there to be a pill that would make everything better.

Instead, a line from a movie keeps running through my mind. In a modern takeoff on old James Bond, gentleman spy-type flicks, the main character and villain reference those old movies. At one point, the villain says that if they were in one of those films, this is when a certain thing would happen but “this ain’t that kind of movie.” Then, he does the unexpected.

So, when it turned out that a pill won’t solve my current problems, I felt a little like that line. In the commercials and on TV shows, even in some Christian movies, when the problems of the main character reach a crisis point, there is a “pill,” or prescriptive prayer or decision she can make and suddenly everything turns around. The problems resolve, Jesus is glorified, and the main character goes on with the life for which she was originally hoping.

This ain’t that kind of movie.

Or, maybe it is, but in any case, one thing God set right in my mind (once I stopped looking for a magic pill and consulted Him on the matter) is that I need to stop thinking of myself as the main character. That turns life up on end, doesn’t it?

We all like to think we’re stars on our own stage and the world does all it can to feed that illusion but the truth is we are the supporting cast, every last one of us. The lead, the star, who the story is about is Jesus. You’d think that would be a disappointment, finding out we don’t even get to lead in our own lives but I’m learning it is, in fact, a freeing truth.

The British actor, Michael Caine, reportedly once described how he determines to take a role in a movie. He said he reads the first page of the script and the last page of the script. If the character they want him to play is on both pages, he takes the role.

Jesus is on the first page of this life’s script and the last. He’s the lead, the star, the one around whom the story revolves.

The thing about the rest of us is that we weren’t there on that first page, were we? We enter the story at different points and if we follow Jesus, we’ll find ourselves on that final page but we lack the global perspective of the main character who appeared in the opening scene.

God crafts our lives, then, to move forward the plotline of the main character, to draw attention to Jesus or to reveal an aspect of Him that others may not see without our subplot. That is, those of us who love Him.

Others have chosen to disengage from the main story. They may see themselves as stars but ultimately they will be only cameo appearances on life’s main stage. Cameo actors are all about that one moment but they never make it to the end and really, the storyline would be the same with or without their contribution.

So, when I realized that no pill or prescriptive prayer or life-altering decision would turn the ship of my life in the direction of trouble-free waters. When God reminded me that I’m not the main character and so troubles may be written into my plotline for the entire span of my life so that others can see Jesus through my broken heart, my loved ones’ illness, my unanswered prayers. When I pointed at all the Christian movies/novels/television shows where there is a moment that leads to resolution but He shook His head and replied, “This ain’t that kind of movie.” When I reached that place, He was there.

He reminded me that He doesn’t just appear at the beginning and the end, He is there on every page. He is with me even when there is no pill. Even when problems won’t resolve or when they do, another appears to take its place. He is with me through every harrowing moment.

And all of this led to me seeing that’s why He allows me a day of rest each week. I’m not the star so I don’t have to appear in every scene. I don’t carry the plot on my shoulders. No one expects me to deliver the ultimate answer. All that falls on the shoulders of the lead.

So, that’s what I’m going to do. Every week for the next year, I’m dropping out for a day. One vacation day a week where I enjoy Him and all He’s created. Watch a movie. Read a book. Take a nap. Linger over lunch. Stare at the ocean. Whatever. The Bible calls this a Sabbath rest. Some call it Saturday. Others Sunday. I’m calling it my weekly vacation day to remind myself what it’s about. Even God’s people need a reminder that God’s plan is best and He’s planned for us to take a day of rest.

God reminded me that the closer movies get to the end, the more intense the action and drama, and so it is with the world. His people are here to draw attention to Jesus and so our lives, too, will become more intense but since we aren’t what the story’s about, He encourages us to drop out of sight once a week because the show will go on.

How can you do that, others will say. This is a seven-day a week life. Modern times are demanding. We need to work every minute if we want to accomplish, achieve, resolve, move ahead. You are needed full-time on center stage. Shouldn’t you be studying, writing, caretaking, ministering, catching up, cleaning, shopping, preparing, relating, list-making, or laboring in some fashion every day?

To which I will reply, as I set out for a walk in the woods, “This ain’t that kind of movie.”

This ain’t that kind of blog post http://t.co/FZjtFXzrpI are you wondering when life is going to straighten out? #amwriting #faith #movies

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 7, 2015

**this post is not a recommendation in any way for the movie from which this line is quoted. this post isn’t a movie endorsement, it’s an endorsement for enjoying a day of rest according to God’s design.

White Feather Fretting on a Week Day

We think we can be prepare for everything.

We can. Just, not the way we think.

Soldiers in boot camp ask veterans to tell them what it’s like to be at war. They never get enough of battle stories but old soldiers give their stories up sparingly. In boot camp, we think knowing what’s ahead will make us ready. Veterans know that being there is what makes you ready. All you can do in boot camp is practice the moves and learn to take an order without asking why. Readiness shows up on the frontline.

I live my life in boot camp. Rise with gratitude and praise. Put on the armor of the Lord. Make my confession, my petition, my intercession, and my amen. Serve the Lord through the day. Retire with gratitude, confession, praise, intercession, petition, amen.

Somewhere in that day, I hear the news. Christians taking stands in far off countries or four states away. Christians speaking out. Facing ridicule, legal action, mocking, torture, imprisonment, death. Sitting in a boring meeting in a hard chair ready to chew off my own arm to be allowed out into the sunshine after only forty-five minutes, I can’t imagine I’d hold up well under ridicule, never mind torture. I worry, then, that I possess a white feather faith, which would be no faith at all.

Jesus-followers take stands against sin, they refuse to side with the darkness, aide or abet the enemy, compromise the truth. Jesus-followers resist sin. Cowardice is a sin. Does my people-pleasing disposition indicate an orientation toward cowardice? Is my meek nature a symptom of an inner chicken affliction? I dodge uncomfortable conversations in the lunchroom. How, then, would I ever hold the line of truth before authorities, cameras, or a social media campaign?

His Word holds my answer.

The only truth I need to know is that my faith will hold in the moment of testing even though in my imagination I fold at the knees. Jesus said, “Beware of men, for they will deliver you over to courts and flog you in their synagogues, and you will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake, to bear witness before them and the Gentiles. When they deliver you over, do not be anxious how you are to speak or what you are to say, for what you are to say will be given to you in that hour. For it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.” Matthew 10:17-20 (ESV)

Jesus runs a need-to-know basis boot camp. For now, my future is classified information and my clearance level doesn’t go that high.

Jesus is with me in boot camp. He’s here when I rise and when I retire. He surrounds me as I serve through the day. Why do I imagine He would leave me on the battlefield? He would not.

No matter how I feel, I am already prepared for whatever comes because I follow Him. Because He has invested His own blood in my salvation. Because, through Jesus, God has adopted me into His family. I will be ready for battle because He is with me.

The disciples were just a bunch of guys. They had issues. Their faith looked a lot like mine – like dodgy windshield wipers or a Neon sign on the blitz. They checked out on Jesus when He needed them. But after the cross, after the resurrection, after Pentecost, they were warriors because He was with them.

Fretting and fear are distractions. The darkness hopes to pull me off the kingdom work at hand by causing me to dread assignments that may never be mine. But, if they ever are, the best way to prepare is to be aware of Him now, pay attention here in this moment, learn to follow directions in faith, and know Him well enough to trust Him in on the frontline.

Welcome to boot camp, loved ones. Are you paying attention now?

White Feather Fretting on a Week Day http://t.co/sTdPEeRlHc Do you worry about how you’ll stand up under fire? #amwriting #persecution #Jesu

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 2, 2015