Snagged four Cutthroat Trout Fly fishing the Dosewallips River. Enlivening. Wading through the whites of the sprinting stream to get closer to the perfect spot. Olympic Forest rain. 25+ head herd of elk. Even here I need to quiet my mind. If I don't stop and seek Him even there I will go the whole day without thinking. But when the mist settles over the river at 7 o'clock and the river valley is filled by the creeping avalanche of evening I am satisfied with the answers that He gives.
"Be still, my soul; the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below."
- Katharina Von Schlegel 1697-?
An old story was "brought home" last night. I went home to feast upon my mothers cooking, and was about to read to her from a Elisabeth Elliot's novel No Graven Image when a new member of the house walked into the kitchen. I greeted him and gave a short synopsis of the book and the author's story. I told him how Elisabeth ("Betts" as Jim would affectionately call her) went back to the tribe that had killed her husband and how God had worked in the hearts of the whole tribe. A contemplative look came over the man's face. "How can you forgive someone who killed someone that you loved?" He asked. "I have not had that happen," was my first response, "We are told, though, that God gave His saw His own Son die to forgive us who deserved that very same death. Our sins were the murderer. God does not tell us the story as a means of condemning us though. Christ was condemned instead. He tells us to let us know that forgiveness is available and that 'by His wounds we can be healed.'" I thought that I had given a pretty good answer. But there was more. "38 years ago," he continued, "a man kidnapped, raped, and murdered my sister and is now sitting in Walla Walla. His actions and the despair that followed made myself and my parents turn to alcoholism. I don't know how to forgive that. I was thinking about writing him a letter to tell him to seek forgiveness from God." We continued to talk until dinner was ready. Please pray for those that we talked to and for myself and the rest of the Oasis staff that see and hear. It is not that the answers we give our wrong, but sometimes I feel as though my mind and heart are not large enough.
"Be still, my soul; the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last."
Monday, September 7, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
remember, child
12:59am:
Kickin' it with kix cereal after teen night. Picked up a hitchhiker on the way home tonight who had a fabulous, long beard. He gave me an avocado!
Spent the last half-hour before leaving sitting in the empty shop with Curtis and Danny praying for ourselves and our Christian brothers and sisters to be only satisfied with intimacy with God.
Ate at Salvation Army for lunch. The Major gave us an open invite to come often and interact with the others that come for a hot lunch.
In between music practice and teen night Jacob, Susannah and I had a Bible study at Megan's house. She is so eager to hear the word that she called because I was late. Thankfully she was merciful and forgave my terrible habit of lateness. Going through Mark (and the correlating parts in Matthew) I taught on the temptation of Jesus. I saw something new studying the temptations today. At the end of the baptism the Father speaks clearly, "You are my beloved Son." Satan's challenge was twice, "If you are the Son...." Forty days of fasting could have made the wonderful experience of the baptism seem distant, even unreal. What does only four days do to the experiences of intimacy that we have had with the Father? And then the deceiver taps, "are you really a child of God?" Are you? O but it was four days ago that you felt close! Why do I feel so distant now? Is it true? The scenario is little different than the setting in Eden and perhaps it will help you understand our first parents dilemma. The snake asked plainly, "did God really say?" Has God really told you that you can cast your cares on Him because He cares for you? Does that seem long ago? The promise has not changed, only you have. "But man does not live by bread alone, but on every word that proceeds from the mouth of God." How could we ever expect to live on bread alone when we are almost immedietly hungry again after eating. Jesus forcefully lived upon the satisfying and assuring word of the Father that does not change and by those same means can we survive, thrive and shine. He held to the words, "You are my Son; with you I am well pleased." Hold to the words, "you are my child......"
Kickin' it with kix cereal after teen night. Picked up a hitchhiker on the way home tonight who had a fabulous, long beard. He gave me an avocado!
Spent the last half-hour before leaving sitting in the empty shop with Curtis and Danny praying for ourselves and our Christian brothers and sisters to be only satisfied with intimacy with God.
Ate at Salvation Army for lunch. The Major gave us an open invite to come often and interact with the others that come for a hot lunch.
In between music practice and teen night Jacob, Susannah and I had a Bible study at Megan's house. She is so eager to hear the word that she called because I was late. Thankfully she was merciful and forgave my terrible habit of lateness. Going through Mark (and the correlating parts in Matthew) I taught on the temptation of Jesus. I saw something new studying the temptations today. At the end of the baptism the Father speaks clearly, "You are my beloved Son." Satan's challenge was twice, "If you are the Son...." Forty days of fasting could have made the wonderful experience of the baptism seem distant, even unreal. What does only four days do to the experiences of intimacy that we have had with the Father? And then the deceiver taps, "are you really a child of God?" Are you? O but it was four days ago that you felt close! Why do I feel so distant now? Is it true? The scenario is little different than the setting in Eden and perhaps it will help you understand our first parents dilemma. The snake asked plainly, "did God really say?" Has God really told you that you can cast your cares on Him because He cares for you? Does that seem long ago? The promise has not changed, only you have. "But man does not live by bread alone, but on every word that proceeds from the mouth of God." How could we ever expect to live on bread alone when we are almost immedietly hungry again after eating. Jesus forcefully lived upon the satisfying and assuring word of the Father that does not change and by those same means can we survive, thrive and shine. He held to the words, "You are my Son; with you I am well pleased." Hold to the words, "you are my child......"
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
telling of home and a future one
Just finished an evening prayer with my two roommates. I arrived several hours late for Zack's birthday dinner. Jacob, Erica, and I spent the afternoon in Seattle visiting the Orion Center (a multifaceted center for homeless youth). Please pray for my visit with the Homeless Liaison for the Central Kitsap school district tomorrow.
Here are a few excerpts from Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin:
"This, indeed, was home, --home--a word that George had never yet known a meaning for; and a belief in God, and trust in his providence began to encircle his heart, as, with a golden cloud of protection and confidence, dark, misanthropic, pining, atheistic doubts, and fierce despair, melted away before the light of a living Gospel, breathed in living faces, preached by a thousand unconscious acts of love and good will, which, like the cup of cold water given in the name of a disciple, shall never lose their reward."
"It is strange, then, that some tears fall on the pages of his Bible, as he lays it on the cotton-bale, and, with patient finger, threading his slow way from word to word, traces out its promises? Having learned late in life, Tom was but a slow reader, and passed on laboriously from verse to verse. Fortunate for him was it that the book he was intent on was one which slow reading cannot injure,--nay, one whose words, like ingots of gold, seem often to need to be weighed separately, that the mind may take in their priceless value. Let us follow him a moment, as, pointing to each word, and pronouncing each half aloud, he reads,
'let--not--your--heart--be--troubled. In--my--Father's--house--are--many--mansions--. I--go--to--prepare--a--place--for--you.'
Cicero, when he buried his darling and only daughter, had a heart as full of honest grief as poor Tom's,--perhaps no fuller, for both were only men;--but Cicero could pause over no such sublime words of hope, and look to no such future reunion; and if he had seen them, ten to one he would not have believed,--he must fill his head first with a thousand questions of authenticity of manuscript, and correctness of translation. But, to poor Tom, there it lay, just what he needed, so evidently true and divine that the possibility of a question never entered his simple head. It must be true; for, if not true, how could he live?
His Bible was thus marked through, from one end to the other, with a variety of styles and designations; so he could in a moment seize upon his favorite passages, without the labor of spelling out what lay between them;--and while it lay there before him, every passage breathing of some old home scene, and recalling some past enjoyment, his Bible seemed to him all of this life that remained, as well as the promise of a future one."
In speaking of the future one, please remember this Sunday in prayer as I preach on the last 2/3 of 1 Corinthians 15. "I tell you a mystery we will not all sleep, BUT we will all be changed." It is a sure things: we will be changed. Can we be ready? I am more stumped on how to preach this passage than I have been in a long while. Paul's first concern was that most live as thought there is no resurrection. Don't we act the same? I have said and heard, "O I long for heaven," while in reality there is little evidence that we believe in the forevermore. What would change if we lived with surety?
Here are a few excerpts from Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin:
"This, indeed, was home, --home--a word that George had never yet known a meaning for; and a belief in God, and trust in his providence began to encircle his heart, as, with a golden cloud of protection and confidence, dark, misanthropic, pining, atheistic doubts, and fierce despair, melted away before the light of a living Gospel, breathed in living faces, preached by a thousand unconscious acts of love and good will, which, like the cup of cold water given in the name of a disciple, shall never lose their reward."
"It is strange, then, that some tears fall on the pages of his Bible, as he lays it on the cotton-bale, and, with patient finger, threading his slow way from word to word, traces out its promises? Having learned late in life, Tom was but a slow reader, and passed on laboriously from verse to verse. Fortunate for him was it that the book he was intent on was one which slow reading cannot injure,--nay, one whose words, like ingots of gold, seem often to need to be weighed separately, that the mind may take in their priceless value. Let us follow him a moment, as, pointing to each word, and pronouncing each half aloud, he reads,
'let--not--your--heart--be--troubled. In--my--Father's--house--are--many--mansions--. I--go--to--prepare--a--place--for--you.'
Cicero, when he buried his darling and only daughter, had a heart as full of honest grief as poor Tom's,--perhaps no fuller, for both were only men;--but Cicero could pause over no such sublime words of hope, and look to no such future reunion; and if he had seen them, ten to one he would not have believed,--he must fill his head first with a thousand questions of authenticity of manuscript, and correctness of translation. But, to poor Tom, there it lay, just what he needed, so evidently true and divine that the possibility of a question never entered his simple head. It must be true; for, if not true, how could he live?
His Bible was thus marked through, from one end to the other, with a variety of styles and designations; so he could in a moment seize upon his favorite passages, without the labor of spelling out what lay between them;--and while it lay there before him, every passage breathing of some old home scene, and recalling some past enjoyment, his Bible seemed to him all of this life that remained, as well as the promise of a future one."
In speaking of the future one, please remember this Sunday in prayer as I preach on the last 2/3 of 1 Corinthians 15. "I tell you a mystery we will not all sleep, BUT we will all be changed." It is a sure things: we will be changed. Can we be ready? I am more stumped on how to preach this passage than I have been in a long while. Paul's first concern was that most live as thought there is no resurrection. Don't we act the same? I have said and heard, "O I long for heaven," while in reality there is little evidence that we believe in the forevermore. What would change if we lived with surety?
Monday, August 31, 2009
on behalf of the slave
Insightful excerpt from the letters of David Livingstone:
"The strangest disease I have seen in this country seems really to be broken-heartedness, and it attacks free men who have been captured and made slaves. Speaking with many who died from it, they ascribed their own pain to the heart, and placed the hand correctly on the spot, though many think that the organ stands high up under the breast-bone. Some slavers expressed surprise to me that they should die, seeing they had plenty to eat and no work....It seems to be really broken hearts of which they die."
"The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." - Luke 4:18-19
Speak and act on the behalf of the broken-hearted.
"The strangest disease I have seen in this country seems really to be broken-heartedness, and it attacks free men who have been captured and made slaves. Speaking with many who died from it, they ascribed their own pain to the heart, and placed the hand correctly on the spot, though many think that the organ stands high up under the breast-bone. Some slavers expressed surprise to me that they should die, seeing they had plenty to eat and no work....It seems to be really broken hearts of which they die."
"The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." - Luke 4:18-19
Speak and act on the behalf of the broken-hearted.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
why i enjoy good children's books
For those who know me (what a scary way to start a sentence!) I have have a few peculiar delights. One of those delights (the word "delights" reminds me of Aplets and Cotlets) is reading children's books. Not the modern kinds that try to dumb down life for a child to monosyllable onomatopoeia's. I like the charming depth of the old kind. Ha! You scoff, "Daniel, you always think older is better." Not true. I am thankful for indoor plumbing. I believe that a book makes a good companion. As much as I would like my children to spend time with other children that enjoy roaming in the wild and reading by a crackling fire I want them to enjoy the company of thoughtful literature that brightens the imagination and deepens the heart. Did I mention charming earlier? Yes, I did. I do not mean unrealistically fantastic or a means of escapism. What I mean is a taste of Eden's dew. You see, I believe God made the world quite a charming place, or as the Bible would simply say, "good." Yes, it is fallen too. That is only the second part of the story. The first part of the story is that it was made "good." The fall came in a far second and of that fact I need no reminder. Nearly every day last week I heard another story of broken relationships or bitterness of soul. So what do I mean? What charm is there to be had that is not mere fantasy? Let me tell you as I explain the book I picked up again this afternoon. The book titled Five Little Peppers: And How They Grew by Margaret Sidney. This is the first of the Little Pepper series published in 1881. It is the story of a mother ("Mamsie") who is raising five children on her own, the youngest perfectly named Phronsie. Told here: "But [Mamsie] met life too bravely to be beaten down now. So, with a stout heart and a cheery face, she had worked away day after day at making coats, and tailoring and mending of all descriptions. And she had seen with pride that couldn't be concealed her noisy, happy brood growing up around her, and filling her heart with comfort, and making the Little Brown House fairly ring with jollity and fun." You see, this story is doing something other than spinning a fancy tale, it is showing the beauty of truth. Truth which is not so complex that it has to be meeted out in philosophy textbooks, but is better illustrated in the hardworking mother with disheveled hair and a dirty apron. This story and 1 Corinthians 13 illustrate in the subtle brushstrokes of words how love is expressed. The way 1 Corinthians 13 leaves us is making the final claim that "these three remain faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love." And I know, dear reader, that at this point I have lost many readers. Many, many would replace one of these three with pain or loneliness. A poem recently given to me by a friend left these lines after every verse: "Is life suffering and pain? / She said it made things easier to believe / Life is only suffering and pain." So what brings me to read with realism the chapters (with titles such as "Making Happiness for Mamsie," "The Cloud over the Little Brown House," "Sunshine again," or "Polly's Dismal Morning") of this classic children's book? Because there is a faith that is more solid than fear and hope more sure than despair and I am loved--O how truly I am loved. I realized again this last week as I led a Bible study on the Gospel of Mark at a new house where the girl had shrines in her room and was reading a book on how Jesus took advice from eastern gurus before his public ministry that the resurrection is a big claim. It is more fantastic than claiming that Mamsie brings joy to her "five little peppers", including Phronsie. I believe that God the Father so loved children that he sent His own Son to die. That is only the first part of the story. There is pain and loneliness even in this story. Those feelings are not lost in this story. "By His wounds you have been healed." He came to not to merely get close to your pain, but to take it away. He want to have your pain. He not only wants you to accept him as Almighty God, but as Loving Father. Oh isn't it charming? "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!" (1 John 3:1)
Ha! So read good childrens books.
Ha! So read good childrens books.
Monday, August 24, 2009
the hold
"I press on in order that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ." - Philippians 3:12
Paul had been "laid hold of" and so he sought to "lay hold of". What are you pressing on for Christian? To lay hold of that for which you were laid hold of. By whom have you been laid hold? You were laid hold of by none other than Christ himself. "Because He loved me..." (Galatians 2:20) is the reason.
Paul had been "laid hold of" and so he sought to "lay hold of". What are you pressing on for Christian? To lay hold of that for which you were laid hold of. By whom have you been laid hold? You were laid hold of by none other than Christ himself. "Because He loved me..." (Galatians 2:20) is the reason.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
aliens and strangers
Today I went back "home home" for a salmon dinner with my family. Do not take it as mere maternal bribery to bring the wayward son home; actually, the authentic Alaskan salmon was a treat provided by the Spanish-speaking girl from Guatemala who lives in one of the side rooms at my parents. She has grown quite attached to my mother. When I arrived there was a Spanish-speaking family, the Sanchez family, from our church already sitting in the living room, squeezed onto the left-most side of the couch. They had come to take Juliana to stay with them for the whole weekend. Or so was their intention. Juliana kindly told them that she would only stay one night because "Cindy [my mother] would miss her too much." Juliana is what some would call an "illegal immigrant." I will give you a face to remember the next time you hear about bi fences being built on our southern border. When Juliana traveled across the desert she went 5 days without food or water. This very week her uncle was just found laying face down in the same desert. The Sanchez Family has been working with the border authorities to see if there was any word on his whereabouts. They said that there are days when upwards of 50 immigrants are found dead in the deserts that have no natural division, but are claimed by two countries that don't have a care for the wandering soul that seek their own promised land. It is a lucrative business for the human traffickers that promise to guide the way. The pace is relentless and the standards inhumane. These are humans. But it is no matter to the human trafficker if some cannot handle the pace or take the successive days without food or water. They get their money either way--dead or alive. Pray and consider when you hear again about the border: who is my neighbor (Luke 10:25-37)?
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
submission: the road less taken
I had lunch today with a friend who is a pastor in the Bremerton area. We ate at Taco Del Mar--mutual ground with filling food. If you have ever sat in a Taco Del Mar you can imagine the setting: fish with sunglasses, hanging surfboards, and a thatched-grass umbrella. We sat underneath the umbrella. He had performed a wedding that I went to last week and we talked about that for awhile. He did an excellent job. During the ceremony he told a story to illustrate the relationship of submission between a man and his wife. As the story goes, whenever his wife has had a string of stressful days with the kids he grabs her by the shoulders and looks her in the eyes (I added the shoulder part) and tells her to go shopping or buy her favorite drink at Starbucks. This, he said, is the righteous view of submission: allow me--submit--to love you.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
water for body and soul
Saturday morning I left the attic of a few friends in Ocean Park, WA to run along the beach. Shoeless I iced my legs in the last reaches of the waves that roared threats of coming further. When one prays alongside the ocean no question can match the response offered by the illustrated testimony of nature. For God to show me faithfulness he only needs to direct my lifted heart towards the repeated pounding of the waves. For me to begin to guess the limits of the knowledge of God I need only to look as far as I can towards the western horizon. For enjoyment I only needed to touch the sand and have my mouth catch the first spray of salt water or feel the retreating tide steal the sand beneath my feet each time they land only to rise again and carry me down the shoreline.
Sunday my father spoke on the stories of Luke 15: the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost child. In each there is one lost, one seeking, and a party. We are the first, God is the second (do you know that you are sought after?), and the third is when we understand the other two points. Two weeks ago my little sister responded and asked God to come into her heart. The moment came when she was at the Dunes Bible Camp (also in Ocean Park, WA) and she heard the lyrics to How Deep The Fathers Love, "it was my sin that held Him there / until it was accomplished / his dying breath has brought me life / I know that it is finished...." For the first time she saw that it was her sins that were there with Jesus at his death. Today Stephanie was baptized. As my Dad prepared to dip her beneath the water he found it hard to speak. There have been years of standing at the door waiting for her return. Our growing church family and many relative, who Stephanie had excitedly called when she returned from camp, joined us for the celebration. She is home! Celebrate with us.
Sunday my father spoke on the stories of Luke 15: the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost child. In each there is one lost, one seeking, and a party. We are the first, God is the second (do you know that you are sought after?), and the third is when we understand the other two points. Two weeks ago my little sister responded and asked God to come into her heart. The moment came when she was at the Dunes Bible Camp (also in Ocean Park, WA) and she heard the lyrics to How Deep The Fathers Love, "it was my sin that held Him there / until it was accomplished / his dying breath has brought me life / I know that it is finished...." For the first time she saw that it was her sins that were there with Jesus at his death. Today Stephanie was baptized. As my Dad prepared to dip her beneath the water he found it hard to speak. There have been years of standing at the door waiting for her return. Our growing church family and many relative, who Stephanie had excitedly called when she returned from camp, joined us for the celebration. She is home! Celebrate with us.
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