Isaiah 57:1-2

The righteous man perishes, and no one lays it to heart; devout men are taken away, while no one understands. For the righteous man is taken away from calamity; he enters into peace; they rest in their beds who walk in their uprightness

Yesterday I turned 39 years old, I wish I could say that my days were filled with righteousness…they were not. In fact it has only been for about the last 15 years that I really began to seek after God. To be sure I still have my days; days when I feel as though I am far less than a conqueror. I suppose we all do, then again I suppose this is why we should lift even higher the banner of Christ…”he is patient with us, desiring all to come to repentance.”

How desperately I wish I could turn back the clock; that I might do things right, do things as God would have me…and to do those things from my youth. Not that I desire in any way to have a different life, but instead to have a better life. Better being defined as less baggage, a less sin packed flesh that uses every opportunity to wage its war against my soul.

Despite the burden this baggage presents, it’s also a reminder to me of how great God’s grace really is, and likewise the confirmation that “all things really do work together for good, to those who love him and are called according to his purpose.” God has allowed me the opportunity to use this past in a way that glorifies Him…and Him alone, warning others of the dangers that lurk within the glitz and the glimmer of a sin filled life.

While I am grateful for the life God has allowed me to live, I must confess that there is a part of me that envies those who seem to have understood God’s love for us much earlier in life, and have spent their lives loving him back. Krista Newton was one of those people. We first met her through some friends, and soon we became friends as well. She was enthralled with adoption and caring for the orphans. In fact I often thought that she might be the next Katie Davis, moving to some far away land and mothering the motherless.

Of course Krista was not only a lover of orphans, she also loved her family as deeply as any I have ever known. She would tell my wife often how much her parents meant to her and how much she loved her siblings. Krista seemed to have it all together in life, and there is no question that she spent her life for the glory of the king. This in part is why the events that unfolded sometime yesterday are so hard to understand.

Lori was taking a nap, and I went for an afternoon run. I returned from my run and was on the back porch when I heard the door open.  I looked up to see Lori and knew immediately that something was wrong. She was inconsolable. She could hardly get the words out to tell me about Krista’s passing. We went inside and we prayed. The next few hours we spent asking ourselves as well as God a lot of questions. At the top of that list was…Why? “Why God, did you allow this to happen to such a one as this. She loved you Lord, from the depths of her soul…she loved you.”

We talked about all the good she was doing for the kingdom, the plans for her next mission trip, her recent engagement, and of course the love she had always shown to others. The truth is that we may spend the rest our lives asking these questions and reminiscing about all the good she had done in such a short life, and likewise all the good she could have done with so much life left to live. I am reminded however that when David’s work here was done, he fell asleep.  I am also reminded that Paul’s greatest desire was to be with the Lord, and that while Krista loved her life, her purpose for living it was to Glorify the God that gave it, and to one day venture on to meet him face to face and forevermore. She sits now on a much loftier perch knowing better than we what it means to enter into His perfect peace.

Krista, you never made much of your presence or tried too hard to draw attention to yourself. Your goal in life was always to make known the presence of God and to draw attention to your savior. Though this be the case, be assured your absence will be felt.

Rest now weary one, and enjoy the presence of your savior as you enter into your reward. You have been an inspiration to many, and I pray my daughters will look to your example and follow suit. I pray that Lori and I can be the kind of parents that your parents have been to you, that our children will love one another as deeply as you loved your own siblings, and lastly I pray that we will all love each other as you have loved each of us.

John 7:38

“Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.”

When the spirit of God is poured into the souls of men, we become like rivers of living water. The spirit was never meant to lay idle, but to flow, and not just to us but through us. I wonder why it is that in our observations we don’t see this happening as it was intended. Then, through observations made in the world around me I begin to understand.

Humanity has a habit of disrupting the natural order. We love to tame the wild, to make the wild things submit in obedience to our will, that it may work for us. Perhaps we need a plow to be pulled, train a mule and make him pull. Perhaps we need a way to go, train a horse and ride upon his back. Or maybe we need power, recreation, and water to quench our thirst. Build a Dam across the river and stop the flow.  This is the logical thing to do is it not? I cannot help but wonder if even in this we have stored up for ourselves provision and instead of filling our silos – we have filled our reservoirs.

“Dam that river,” says I, “bring it to its knees and make it work, fill the reservoir, and let the water turn the turbines”. We make wonderful use of God’s creation, always to our own benefit, and always in a way that serves to make this life more bearable…easier…simpler. Always in a way that reduces our dependence on God. It is interesting that in the study of language the word “Dam” is closely connected to the Greek word “Thaphos.” What does Thaphos mean? It means grave or tomb. I thought this quite interesting considering the words of Christ with regard to the Holy Spirit and the rivers of living water…water that flows.

When the Holy Spirit fell at Pentecost and the tongues of fire descended upon those simple men…it flowed. In fact it gushed, uncontrollably through each of these men, and that day thousands were saved. Not given over to death, but given life instead…life that came by way of living water. So what is the problem today? Why has the river been dammed? To be honest I don’t know why, except to say that maybe we fear what we cannot control, but which chooses instead to control us. I do know what the dam is made of, and it has many parts: Fear…sin…indifference…

Each and every believer knows what if feels like to have that spirit swell within their souls. There are times we want to stand and shout…but we don’t, there are times when we so desperately want to share what God has done in our lives…but we don’t, times when we feel compelled to show compassion and to demonstrate mercy…but we don’t, and certainly there are times when we are drawn to another knowing full well that God has appointed us this day to share the good news with our neighbor…but we don’t.

Instead our efforts are aimed at taming this thing that seeks to control us. In the process people die and the dams we often build serve as a grave to those we never reached with living water.

We are the dancing shadows of the father’s silhouette. As the shadow mimics the maker’s moves, so too, do we mimic the moves of that great and divine creator…the shadow maker. As he casts his glorious presence over our lives, engulfing us in a love like no other, we are compelled to follow. We study the moves as carefully as we can until finally they are a match, and simultaneously we dance…move for move.

Like David, we are overcome by this experience knowing full well the fathers love…and we dance.  No, there are no strings affixed to our hands and neither are we standing upon his feet, as children do their fathers. Instead, we, like our great savior have known the father and must be about his business. We see what the father is doing, and we do likewise, as we accept his invitation…we dance.

It is a carefully scripted repertoire that only the choreographer knows, he has taught us well, and we have learned well…so we dance. Hand in hand and step for step we see what the master is doing…and we follow, doing likewise. The cost is not so great as might have thought at first, should we make a mistake or fall out of step, He is patient enough to bring us along again. Surely there is the possibility of embarrassment, that possibility of course is only a thing if the audience is our focus.

Should we look instead into the eyes of our love…we are consumed, the audience no longer matters…and we dance. When the dance is done and we rest in his embrace, still focused on his amazing grace, we should know that the audience was not in that auditorium, but instead it was in sky…and they have now risen to their feet in a heavenly ovation as they rejoice over that one to whom the whole world was watching and waiting to mock.

I woke this morning early, much earlier than I normally do. It happens sometimes, normally when I have much on my mind. However, last night I left school (after a fairly demanding test that I fretted over for the last week), and made a trip to Wal-Mart in order to fill my sons prescription. Naturally they didn’t have it, and naturally he needed it. As it turns out the only drug store that had it was in Macon. Needless to say I left Wal-Mart and headed for Macon. By the time I finally arrived home it was close to 11 and all the kids were sound asleep. Another day missed, another day gone, more time that cannot be redeemed…and this is only part of the struggle in attempting to balance the life God has so graciously blessed us with.

As you can imagine, by this time I was exhausted and thought “I should have no problems sleeping through the night”. It was a fleeting thought, but one I embraced. I slipped off to sleep and before my mind could engage my dreams I was awoken. Unable to sleep anymore, I arose and began to read my bible, realizing that so much prayer was left unspoken, I then found my place on the living room floor. I prostrated myself as I began to plead for my children, my wife, my church…and so many other things. So many problems, so little time…I need wisdom, so I asked of him who hath promised to give abundantly (I am still waiting).

After the Amen, I opened my eyes and found my gaze transfixed on the wall that hangs our wedding pictures. My thoughts drifted then to a time when things were so much simpler, when love was so much more naïve. I looked closely at her picture and tried to remember how much I loved her then. It was an impossible task. You see over the years Lori and I have recorded a history, it is a history that only we share. In that history there is great pain, great sorrow, great joys and so much happiness. As I thought about the events as they occurred I was faced with the realization that my love for her now is so much stronger having experienced this life together than it was the day we married. It became impossible for me to imagine a day when I loved her less.

As I meditated on this thought, my mind suddenly began to drift again to another time and another relationship. That being the day I was joined to the bride-groom. I wonder now, after so many years, the ups and downs, the highs and lows, the history recorded between us; has his love for me grown stronger. Perhaps this is a concept that needs to be explored. Can God with his infinite abilities possibly love us more now than yesterday, more tomorrow than he does today?

The mere thought of a perfect God, with a perfect love, loving us more with each passing day is almost more than the senses can handle. I suppose the answer to this question is better left to the theologians of the world, but I must confess it is an exhilarating thought to think…that God should love us more tomorrow than he does today. Like quicksand, it pulls us in and we soon begin to sink…deeper and deeper, until the world itself slips from our grasp and we are fully and finally consumed. The more we struggle the greater the pull…loving us more and more.

When the struggle is over and the fight is gone from our flesh, we learn to rest in his embrace…and we are comforted by it. Overcome by a quiet confidence that he will never leave us…he will never forsake us. What a wonderful God we serve.

I know…I know…I know, this is what we are really saying when we use this phrase in conversation. I presume at some point we have all been guilty of this. Perhaps we are seeking advice our council about a matter and know not the course we should take. As we seek out this council the giver of such advice feels compelled to rehash certain things about our past. Poor decisions we might have made, times or events that may have similar beginnings as our current predicament. If we are honest, we really don’t want the history lesson, what we really want is their approval.

It never fails that as we begin to hear the past brought up again, almost as a reflex we utter the words…YADA…YADA…YADA. YADA, by the way is the Hebrew word for know or to have knowledge of. So once again I will reiterate the translation…I know…I know…I know.

Now, let’s look at this word from another perspective. “Be still and YADA that I am the Lord.  Yes, be still and know that he is Lord. This verse may be the most quoted verse of the bible. There is comfort in it, there is assurance in it, there is confidence in it. But sadly, as events unfold in our lives we often treat God as we do any other councilor on earth. The moment He begins to remind us of who we are, of who he is, of the promises he has made and the ones he has kept (and he always keeps his promises), our response is…I know…I know…I know. As if to say, “I understand Lord, I know everything you’re telling me, but right now I need something else. Something new, something better. To simply say that my knowledge of you is enough is just not sufficient anymore,” and soon we hear the words as they roll off our tongues…YADA…YADA…YADA.

God is our refuge, and an ever-present help in times of trouble. Do we really yada this in our experience, or just know this in our intellect. The only way to yada that God is our refuge is to actually take our refuge in him. The only way to yada that God is our ever-present help in times of trouble, is to call on him in the midst of that trouble. As we take our refuge and call upon the lord in times of trouble, we are then instructed to “be still and yada that he is God.”

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“Anyone that calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved“

The sun comes up, the sun goes down and the moon reflects its glory. Day after day this cosmic dance unfolds before an audience of stars that flicker with their approval. Daily we rise and daily we go. We go to work, to the store, to the ball game, or even to church. Rising and going seems to be our routine and somewhere in there we mix into this routine a little bible study and maybe even some family devotion. This too becomes routine.

There is a place and a purpose for routines, but there is also a danger in them. For when our routines are thrown into disarray by any number of possibilities, we panic as if to say that life itself must be lived according to our routine. We tend not to look at the interruption as one that may in fact have been sent by the one who makes heaven his throne and earth his footstool.

I for one have been caught up in this whirlwind of routine, especially now (having started school in September) my life must be scheduled and I cling tightly to my routines. I rise early and go to work, I leave work, I go home, I spend an hour or so with the family, I go to school, I come home, I help put the kids to bed, then I too retire for the evening; only to do all over again the next day. My wife, she has her routines as well…we all do.

The danger in routine exists when we begin to treat God as something of a routine as well; expecting him only to show up in a certain place, or a certain time. Should we treat God with such contempt? As if to say to him you’re out of place and it’s not your time? “You see God, right now I am spending my scheduled block of time with my family, I am to meet with you Lord on Sunday, I will see you then, at your proper place.”

This routine has in itself the potential to lead us down a path of despair. By not allowing for the frequent interruptions in our lives, and instead scheduling God into our calendars, what we find is that we soon begin to miss him dearly. We wonder, where has he gone and why has he gone? Before long we find ourselves wandering in the wilderness, waiting for our next encounter. Hoping against hope that He will come again with that same water of which we first drank, and that satisfied our thirst.

Like I said, routines most assuredly have their place, but when routine becomes so common place that God himself must make an appointment,  we can be sure that we are taking those first steps into a wilderness of despair. Look expectantly for God to interrupt your life, and examine closely his reasons.