It's Not Me, It's You

I Samuel 12:23 -- "Far be it from me that I should sin against the Lord in ceasing to pray for you."

In a short story that Billy Graham once shared I learned of a poor Scandinavian citizen that walked up to a public statue of Jesus Christ. Disappointed and grumbling the citizen was eager to share his frustration with a park attendant. He said rather loudly: "Sir, I cannot see the face of Christ!".

Sure enough, the angle from which the grumpy citizen stood did not provide a good look at the facial features in the carved statue. The park attendant put one hand on Grumpy's shoulder and said to him: "If you really want to see his face, kneel at his feet."

Almost unbelieving our grumpy Scandinavian knelt at the base of the statue - and to his amazement, he could see quite clearly the graceful facial features that had so alluded him previously.

Sometimes, we see the face of our Lord the best when we are the most humble, kneeling at his feet in earnest prayer on another's behalf. In fact, Samuel tells us that he would not sin against the Lord by withholding prayer. In I Samuel 12:23 we see that the earnest prayers from Samuel's lips were not for personal gain at all - but for the care and support of someone else.

Scrolling through the pages on Facebook I often see the request for prayer. A friend may be going through a difficult time or a loved one may have fallen ill. As my fingers hover over the computer keyboard to leave an encouraging comment it occurs to me that this request is not about my reply, or the often empty promise from one human to another that "I will pray for you." But rather, like Samuel, I should not stop praying for the needs of the others - and I definitely should not tell someone that I will pray for them - if I don't intent to keep my word.

Staring at the computer screen, I petition our Savior regarding the need of my Facebook friend. And THEN, I leave a comment reflecting my spiritual support.

Don't Blink!

Job 7:6 -- "My days are swifter than a waver's shuttle."

Time off from the "daily grind" in my childhood home of the Philippines provided, by far, some of the most precious memories in my collection of unique experiences. The Babb household would pack up and head out somewhere far beyond the hustle and bustle of the crowded Davao or Manila streets. Whether climbing volcanoes, playing in frigid water falls, or milking goats, the joys of being immersed in the Filipino culture were infinite and especially cherished.

One trip during a most memorable treasured mini-break lead us to the jungle-lush South Cotabato - where I was introduced to the native T'boli tribe for the first time. I fell instantly in-love with their dress, their social interactions, and particularly the amazing art produced in their hand-woven fabrics.

It's been said that the T'boli weavers do not weave or paint a pattern unless they see it clearly in their dreams. Often called "Dream Weavers", the intricate patterns, textures, and colors produced from simple wooden looms by these master crafters match none I've ever seen. I have a small collection of T'nalak - the fabric woven by these amazing traditional artists, and each time I slip the cloth between my fingers I remember fondly the speed at which the master loom worker gently guided the weathered "shuttle" back and forth through the many threads. His thumbnails had notches worn into them from an entire lifetime working his loom and he used them swiftly to comb the strands of colorful fibers each time he made a pass with the shuttle. So fast at this he had become over the years that it was difficult for my eyes to follow the amazingly rhythmic back and forth as a delicate pattern began to form in front of him. I was in awe and marveled that there were no tangles or knots forming. How he managed this accuracy with such speed I will never comprehend, but in no time a wonderful length of colorful cloth had been formed from horse hair, plant fibers, and gold thread.

Job said that the days of his life were more swift than a weaver's shuttle. I was reminded of this recently when I stepped into an elevator where a young mother and her tiny infant stood waiting to push the buttons. Next to me, stood my youngest baby - towering over me with unruly dark hair and scruff on his chin. I told the woman not to blink, because if she did, her tiny bundle would turn into a towering teen-age boy as mine had.

It is true that life can move at lightning speeds, rivaling that of even the T'boli weaver's shuttle. All of the sudden a few weeks turns into sixteen years and our children reflect the pattern of our time in their lives. I am reminded to make our brief moments sweet - to cherish the few years my boys are in my care - and count them a precious and priceless gift.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

II Corinthians 1:22 -- "He anointed us, set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come."

It just could not have been more perfect. As I walked up and down the rows and rows of shiny new cars, my eye kept drawing me back to the bright red two-door Sunbird with the manual transmission. It was going to be my very first brand new car right off the lot.

With the intense Florida sun beating hard on my shoulders, I looked up admirably at my Grandfather - my co-signer - and beamed from ear to ear. He did some talking to the auto dealer but I have no idea what he said, I was looking at my new car, imagining the feel of the rubber on the road as I smoothly shifted from third to fourth. I could not wait to slide in behind that wheel.

Sitting down at the awkward desk in the tiny little office of the auto dealer it took what seemed like forever to hand over the deposit, to sign all the papers, and to FINALLY feel the weight of the keys in the palm of my hand. The formal and lengthy transaction was a legal promise of some great things to come: a trip to Bush Gardens with my dear friend Shanna, a ride up to Tennessee to see my parents, and the wonderful concert of our favorite Christian artists for which my sister and I drove all the way up to Illinois to hear. The excitement bubbled over in me like a warm coke on a hot summer day.

As exciting as my very first brand new auto purchase had been, however - it was just the tip of the iceberg. The real joy didn't flow until I slipped behind the wheel, breathed in the new-car smell and drove the machine timidly from the parking lot and onto the very busy Blanding Blvd. I just knew an amazing adventure had just begun. The transaction in the tiny little awkward office was a promise, the beginning.

Jesus put his seal of ownership on us when he died on the cross for our sins, rose again and conquered death once and for all. He gave to us the Holy Spirit, a deposit, if you will - a promise of what will come. Just like the wonderful road trips I took in my first brand new car, I experienced joy behind the wheel long before the contract had been completely executed. It took four years of payments for me to truly assume ownership of the vehicle. Likewise, we have joy in our Holy Spirit right now. As we drive through the winding roads of our lives, we have guidance and peace, joy and deliverance. Jesus gave us a deposit.

Imagine what joy, what wonderful things are to come once the contract is complete! We've been given a guarantee of things to come!

Forever Lost

Matthew 28:19 -- "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations..."

Lonely Dock by Adam Nixon

In an old photo book my fingers gently traced the outline of a precious face and my ears can hear the laughter she once shared with us when our family would gather in Grandma's back yard. If I look hard enough through the screened in back porch, I can almost see her joining us - the cousins - baiting small hooks and dangling them into the Saint Johns River. Jumping and laughing together until the dock shook and caused ripples to span out from the pilings underneath. I'll never know what Grandma did with all the Blue Crabs we caught, some of them probably magically "escaped" back into the murky inlet. But the adventure, the sheer joy was in the catching of them. It was in the team work of family ties that once seemed beyond fraying, beyond being set loose and forever lost that make the old creaky dock so wonderfully full of priceless memories.

She, the precious face, is no longer with us. But she should be. Where we were once eleven strong, it never occurred to any of us that one so close, so deeply entwined in the ever growing family tree branches would slip beyond the green life of it's leaves and fall to the earth - away from us - to brown and wither on the ground. We never imagined where once eleven clambered down the dock an onto Granpa's boat there would one day be only ten. That the joyful bounce in footfalls on weathered wood would loose the spring in it's step and the water would no longer ripple out from the pilings below.

No more freezer bags full of wiggling Blue Crabs. No more water balloon fights in the cool grass or the stealth of cousins trying to push each other off the dock and into the muck - even though we knew we would all be in trouble for it.

Somewhere right in the middle of the cousin line up was a precious human being snatched from the Saunders Clan all too soon. Her life was taken from us on her twenty-fifth birthday. The circumstances were suspicious, but there was no investigation, no closure. We ten, will not ever know how she left us. We know only, that she is gone.

Growing up away from the clan on the mission field - one might imagine that I possessed an eagerness to share my Jesus with those closest to me. Granted, circumstances kept me often separated from family gatherings when our sweet eleven left us - but the real truth is I thought that there would always be tomorrow. Or I felt that another cousin would do the sharing, the asking, the praying. It never occurred to me to sit down and make sure our sweet eleven knew the saving grace of Jesus Christ.

And now the moment is forever lost. There is no asking now. There are no prayers. No assurances that I will one day see that precious face when our Lord calls us all home.

Matthew tells us that Jesus commands us to go out and make disciples. Jesus didn't say to go do it tomorrow or to let some one else make the journey and share the joy. No, he says to us; GO.

I urge you - GO. Don't' worry about being refused. Don't fear being rejected. Just GO and TELL. There just may not be a tomorrow. 

Sweet!

Ecclesiastes 11:9 -- "Rejoice young man, while you are young, and let your heart cheer you in the days of your youth."

The familiar snap of the rubber gloves echoed slightly through the tile in the shower as I prepared to magically erase the soap scum from all the glass. In my head were the other chores buzzing around like noisy bees in a large hive. Sweep and mop kitchen floor, vacuum house, dust book shelves, wash sheets, clean boys' bathroom [yuck] .... and on and on it went. I still had to set Tyler to his American Lit. class work and water my herbs when the bubble popped on my phone to indicate I had a new text. Off came the gloves....

My niece needed help with her home work and asked if she could come by. I'll never ignore an opportunity to play with any of my nieces - even if it is homework - but today, ignoring chores that had gone unattended due to a bout with a spring cold had me feeling a little overwhelmed. We set a time for her to swing by and I left the shower as it had been all week - unattended.

It was about then that I received a reminder from God that we are fishers of people, not projects. Like Martha scrambling around in her kitchen when Jesus popped in for a visit, I often find myself busy with stuff when I should be enjoying the company with whom I am blessed. Time invested in the kindling of hearts is more precious than time spent digging dust bunnies out from under the sofa. If the Lord calls us all home tomorrow, will I look back and be sorry that the dust bunnies continue to magically multiply under my furniture or will I be sorry that I didn't spend time with a cherished love one? Not really a difficult decision when thought is given to the matter.

Today, inspired by the grace and love given to us by an Amazing Savior, I happily invest my time chasing metaphors instead of dust bunnies, putting ideas to paper instead of putting the dishes away, enjoying the lilt of laughter like bubbles in a Spring breeze instead of watching bubbles float into the air from the kitchen sink. The moments with which we are so richly blessed by fellowship with kindred hearts are so very, very sweet. I will not always have the capability to help my niece with her homework. There will be a day when I don't see too well, can't write because of knobby arthritic fingers, and ask her to repeat herself often because my hearing won't be what it is now. It's important to take time with her NOW. Perhaps that is what Ecclesiastes 11:9 is all about.

Easter Eggs

I Chronicles 16:10-11 -- "Glory in His holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Look to the Lord and his strength, seek his face always."

Easter Sunday often finds us watching children roam the back yard or neighborhood park as they put every effort in to seeking hidden treasures and brightly painted boiled eggs. In their eyes you can see the twinkle of excitement as they find a hidden prize and tuck it snugly into their baskets. Girls in pretty dresses with frilly socks and boys in little ties and pressed slacks - there is something to be said for the pastel colors and formal Sunday best. And there is much to be said for the joy and laughter heard in the reward of a great find hidden in the flowers or under the fallen pine straw.

These kids, our precious little ones, will not stop hunting until every single hidey spot has been double checked. No stone goes unturned and no hedge goes unruffled. Bright smiles are offered up to those of us who hide these Easter treasures. Sometimes smeared in chocolate or dusted with sugary Peep powder, these smiles make the egg hunt after Sunday Services so very sweet, indeed.

Long after we, the dutiful hiding parents are ready to sit down in the shade and prop up our tired feet, the little egg hunters will still seek. In fact, they are loath to believe it when we explain to them that all of the treasures have been found.

You and I could learn a thing or two from these tenacious little seekers. They are determined. They are primed. They are diligent!

In the first book of Chronicles we are told to ALWAYS seek the strength and face of God. ALWAYS! If we really took these words to heart I think we would find ourselves surprised by the wonderful treasures the Lord leaves for us. Under the thick and shadowed foliage of our day to day, in the shadows and yes, sometimes even in the dark, the Lord leaves us treasures. We don't see them, sometimes, because we don't look for them.

Recently at a beach condo on the wonderful shores of Palm Coast, my husband and I had the opportunity to visit with friends and family - and found ourselves perched on a balcony that overlooked the ocean. I wasn't feeling well and was bummed that I couldn't play in the pool or tickle my toes in the waves of the beach. I had my head down, with all of my focus on my own perceived misery. My husband, however, had his eyes set deeply on the waves hitting the shore below us. Where I saw a wasted trip, he saw a whale slapping the water. First it's head breached the surface, and then the tale slapped down into the surf leaving foamy spray billowing outward into the waves.

I only caught the tale as it dipped into the water. But - I wasn't looking for the treasure in our seaside moment. I wasn't looking for joy and adventure. I wasn't looking at anything but the tiled floor counting the seconds until I knew we would have to head back home because of my illness.

My husband? He seeks the silver lining. Had we been at the beach with our toes in the sand, we wouldn't have been able to see the whale. Had we been in the pool, we couldn't have even seen the beach beyond the dunes. Up on the balcony, however, was the perfect spot to catch one of God's amazing creatures playing in the waves.

Perhaps we should REALLY always seek. ALWAYS seek the strength and the face of God. His amazing treasures are everywhere, were we but to look for them.

Sweet Or Sour?

John 9:3 -- “It was not because of his sins or his parents’ sins,” Jesus answered. “This happened so the power of God could be seen in him."

Reaching in with a long pair of chopsticks I pulled out a lump of chicken with a sticky, reddish syrup and a good amount of sesame seed clinging to the fork as a thick drip tried - but failed - to fall onto my plate. I love the sweet and sour experience. Especially if the experience has just been picked up from Wok-N-Roll. I'm a sucker for some really good Chinese Food and Wok-N-Roll has got my number...

When the wonderful tangy flavor of lemon, honey and sesame blends with the sharp taste of fresh shallots, a unique texture that rolls around on my tongue provides a wonderful burst of flavor. In an effort to keep up, my parotid glands cramp slightly and rapidly produce enough saliva to aid in the digestion of my food. It's slightly painful sometimes, but oh, so worth it. 

Sitting across from me, the love of my life mentions the lemon, the sharp, earthy twang of the shallots, the salt and the smokey oils in the sesame seeds. I look at him and mention the honey, the smooth, subtle and slightly sweet of the batter on the chicken and grin. The chicken he bit into came from the exact same cardboard carton than did mine - but being a super taster, my hubby can pick out more flavors than can I. And he can taste the bitter, even when the sweet seems to overpower the other more subtle flavors. [I adore that man on so many levels .... ]

The thing is, even though our food came from the same kitchen, the same take-out carton and though we both used the same utensils, we could each describe remarkably different flavors. 

In the book of John - when Jesus stopped to heal a man who'd been blind from birth he was presented with the question: why is this man blind? I think there had probably been much talk behind the blind man's back over the issue. Surly the blind man had done something terrible that warranted the harsh sentence to be born blind - but then again, since he was born afflicted, perhaps he was being punished for something his parents did. The two points of view among the community were both negative. But Jesus said to the eager beavers, it is not a punishment that this man can't see - it's an opportunity to proclaim the Glory of God. 

Well, THAT's not quite the angle from which the community had been ready to view the blind man's affliction. Maybe the blind man's life wasn't such a sour thing, after all - maybe, just maybe - it was sweet. A wonderful life that had been created with the express intention of providing a vessel for the miraculous and amazing handiwork of God through the grace and compassion of Jesus Christ.

Think about it! What is the first thing the blind man did after being granted his sight? He ran through town telling everyone about Jesus! The change in the man was not a small nor a subtle thing. There could be no denying that the blind man was healed. It was so obvious that people couldn't help but stop and SEE the glory of our Lord! From that point forward, I bet not one day went by that the previously blind man did not speak of the wonderful thing that happened to him.

So many times in our lives we are faced with some pretty sour experiences. Often the question "what did I do?" pops into mind. But what if our sour grapes aren't the fruit of a negative behavior? What if they are the perfect thing to make a sweet and priceless glass of wine? Now you see, the wine would not be the perfection that it is without some change. Jesus gives us that change. And while yes, the growing pains can be somewhat uncomfortable - down right agonizing at times - the end result is oh, so worth it.

It's not always about the negative. In fact, I'm willing to bet that it's more often all about the AWESOME God we serve.

A.C.T.S.

Matthew 6:9 -- "Pray, then, in this way: 'Our Father who is in heaven, Hallowed be Your name'..."

It was so quiet I could hear the clock on the kitchen wall and the swoosh of Bo's tail sweeping across the floor.  I had been sitting on the couch, jotting in my prayer journal and listening for the collective deep sleep breathing of all of my guys. My oldest had been in bed for hours so it surprised me that his sleep-over friend joined me in the quiet. He asked me what I was doing.

I explained that more often than not, I do my praying in a journal. Doing it this way allows me to look back  from time to time and be thankful for all the answered prayers - a reminder of the Amazing God we serve. 

L became quiet for a moment and then said: "I never know what to pray."

Putting my journal down on the couch I looked at him and shared with him a "secret." Jesus gave us a model prayer in Matthew. When I open my heart before our Lord during my official quiet time with him, I use A.C.T.S.

L was curious. I explained that using the anagram keeps me focused. So often in my eagerness to talk with my Savior, I can get carried away and chase a few rabbits, making the prayer all about me. Having structure reminds me to be respectful, thankful, and humble. I wrote it down for him on a piece of paper:

A - adoration. Often I use the book of Psalm for this. It's so full of praise. I then embellish those words and make them personal. 

C- confession. I don't like for things to come between my Lord and I. I am a sinner and am saved by grace and only grace. God gave us a way to Him, Jesus spilled his own blood for me. It's' important that I remember that.

T - thanks. So many times in life we petition God. So many times in life we forget to tell Him how grateful we are that He is a God who always answers. There are so many reasons to thank God. I want to be sure I am mindful of them.

S - supplication. I lay my burdens at the feet of my Lord. I pray on behalf of others and ask the Lord to guide me and grow me. 

Jesus began his model prayer with adoration. With praise. There is a reason for that. 

When I begin my quiet time reflecting on the Awesome God we serve I put the focus of our time together on Him. It removes the focus from myself. God IS Holy. He IS Almighty, Amazing,Wonderful! 

I think Point Of Grace said it best in their song: God Forbid: "God forbid that I should find You so familiar that I think of You as Less than Who You are."


Now I should point out that not every single prayer uttered to my Savior has a format. I use this when I enjoy my personal quiet time with God. There are moments - LOTS of them - when a fervent prayer is uttered at the drop of a hat, in utter joy and excitement, or in sheer desperation, or in pain. Sometimes there aren't any words at all. Prayer is personal.

It's just nice and important that I communicate WITH God and not AT Him. Using this little anagram reminds me to make it less about me and more about Who God is and to seek HIS will - not my own.

To hear the song by Point Of Grace, click the link below:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kd2OGZmu1-U