Searching for Sanctuary

I have such a difficult time disengaging my mind.  It has always been a battle for me.  I would consider it a blessing if I believed that my thoughts aligned with Paul's admonition to the Philippians to think about what is "true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy," but that is not always the case.

Instead, my thoughts often take me back to words that were spoken to me, conversations that I had with people, issues that trouble me, questions that haunt me, regrets, unfulfilled hopes and dreams -- in short, a myriad of things that are seldom, if ever, helpful to me or my spirit.  Last Sunday in church my pastor, Doug Newton, said, "Satan will take negative words and make them hurt more, cut deeper, sink in."  Yes, indeed.

I truly envy people who can disengage their minds.  People who, when you ask them "what are you thinking about?" can honestly say, "not much really."  How is that possible??  And how can I get that??

I am searching for a sanctuary.  Not a physical place, but a spiritual place of peace, relief, comfort. A place to soothe my troubled mind.  A place where healing oil can be applied to the deep wounds that are in the dark corners of my spirit --  hidden to everyone -- everyone but the Lord.

I admit, I've searched for sanctuary in lots of places over the years.  One of them has been the movie theater.  Yes, I go for the movie and the popcorn, but the truth is, I also go to escape.  A movie theater is a place of diversion where for two hours I am transported to another place, another time, another life.  And honestly, I am often inspired by movies.  I really believe that God speaks to me many times in the theater.

But the recent event in Aurora, Colorado has changed my view of the movie theater.  My heart is so heavy for the victims, the families, the rescue personnel, the entire Aurora community.  When I look at their faces on TV, I see the faces of my own college students, family, friends -- it could have been any of us.  I haven't entered a theater since that happened, which is unusual for me.  I am not afraid for my physical life.  It just is no longer a place of escape for me -- no longer a sanctuary.

Thankfully, the story does not end here.  The journey is not over.  At this point in my life, I am discovering a very important truth.  It is a truth that I have "known" for a while, but I have struggled to apply it.

The truth is, the only real sanctuary is within, when in a deeply spiritual sense I allow myself to be held by my Heavenly Father.  And I can actually CHOOSE to go there.  In fact, I MUST choose to go there.  But the good news is that I DO have a choice.  I am not at the mercy of my mind to take me wherever it desires, or wherever the enemy wants to direct it.  I am a child of God -- I am the Father's beloved -- and I can choose to run into His arms whenever I need to.

God wants to grant us peace, a deep sense of security, a profound awareness of His love for us.  The enemy is a liar who seeks to destroy us.  But we do NOT have to listen to the lies.  We CAN choose -- choose to listen to the One who loves us, who offers us true sanctuary.

Sanctuary -- a place of peace, comfort and rest.  It is HERE, because HE is here.  True sanctuary is in the arms of our Heavenly Father.  And His arms are always open.  Always.

"Why Do Bad Things Happen to Good People?" is the Wrong Question

"Why Do Bad Things Happen to Good People?"

(The Wrong Question)

I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago.  We moved into our neighborhood the summer before I started kindergarten.  I have fond memories of kindergarten.  We made butter, took naps, drank milk, and played house.  That was before they taught kids to read Russian novels and solve multilevel structural equations in kindergarten.  My teacher's name was Miss Specken, and I adored her.  I don't remember the names of most of my classmates from back then, but I do remember Timmy.  He was a small-framed boy with blond hair, and he was really quiet.  One day he just stopped coming to school.  Over the course of the next several days we heard the story of how Timmy's home had caught fire.  Because he was afraid, Timmy hid in the closet in his bedroom.  Timmy died in that closet, at age 5.
  
When I was a freshman in college there was a senior named Myra.  Everyone who knew Myra loved her.  She was a bright student, gifted athlete, faithful friend to many, and wholly committed to Christ.  When it was discovered that Myra had cancer, people prayed and prayed.  People believed she would be healed.  But Myra died of cancer in her early 20's.

Two good people -- representative of millions and millions of other people -- for whom bad things have happened -- through no fault of their own.  Why?  Why do bad things happen to good people?

Natural disasters have taken countless lives throughout the history of the world.  Earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes -- people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Disease, famine, poverty -- all have taken their toll on people created in God's image -- good people.  Why do bad things happen to good people?

And then there's man's inhumanity to man.  In 1673, Samuel von Pufendorf wrote, "More inhumanity has been done by man himself than any other of nature's causes."  People have done unspeakable things to other people -- horrible things.  We know of the horror of the Holocaust and the genocides that have occurred in countries like Rwanda, Cambodia and Sudan.  But there are countless other stories of individuals who have been victimized, abused, and deeply scarred both physically and emotionally by others. Why do bad things happen to good people such as these?

When suffering and evil happens in the world, a common human response is to ask "Why?"  I've asked the "why" question hundreds of times throughout my lifetime.  I want to know -- I want to understand -- I want the world to make sense.  But it doesn't.  As often as I've asked the question, I cannot find any logical reason for why a five year-old boy would die in a fire, or thousands of people would perish in an earthquake, or people would be allowed to commit such horrible acts of evil against other people. 

I cannot completely put the "why" questions to rest, but I've found there are far more important, more productive, more Godly questions to ask -- and they begin with the words "what" and "how."  "What can I do in response to this suffering?"  "How can God use me to change the situation?"  "What can I learn from this?"  "What can I teach others?"  "How can I learn to love God more through this?" And perhaps most importantly, "How can I best demonstrate God's love to others?" 

I have a friend who continues to suffer incessantly with headaches that are so bad she cannot get out of bed.  Our church is praying.  Individuals are praying.  Groups have gone to her home on several occasions to pray with and for her.  Medical advice and treatment have been sought from dozens of experts.  And yet she is still not well.  No one knows why.  But we know this -- we can, and will, continue to pray.   We can continue to trust and believe in God and His Word.  And we can show God's love to her, and her family.

God is not absent -- God is NEVER absent -- when His children suffer.  To the contrary, we have a Heavenly Father Who not only knows of our suffering, but through His Son has given us One Who suffers with us.  Jesus is Himself "a Man of sorrows, acquainted with grief."  Jesus entered into our world and experienced for Himself what it means to be human.  God knows.  Our God is a personal God Who hurts with us and feels our pain, as a parent feels the pain when their child suffers. 

So why do bad things happen to good people?  Ask the theologians.  They will all have an opinion.  But the best ones will tell you that they really don't know.  Not only that, but they'll lead you back to the God of all comfort, the source of all peace, the One Who loves us with an everlasting love.  And hopefully they'll tell you to find a way to make a difference -- to find a way to love.

We Have This Moment

We Have This Moment, Today

"We have this moment to hold in our hands and to touch, as it slips through our fingers like sand.  Yesterday's gone, and tomorrow may never come.  But we have this moment -- today."

Bill Gaither wrote this song in 1975.  I thought the lyrics were powerful back then.  But now its message seems to speak directly to my life and circumstances.  Perhaps it will speak to yours as well.   

A moment is "a particular point in time."  We all have them.  Many of them.  A lifetime of them.  In fact, life is really just a series of moments.  They are how we remember our existence.  We don't remember minutes on a clock, or dates on a calendar.  We remember moments -- moments marked by experiences.

"We have THIS MOMENT to hold in our hands..." And yet, living "in this moment" can be so difficult.  I have spent an enormous amount of time and energy living in the PAST -- regretting what I did, or didn't do.  Lamenting decisions I made, or didn't make.  Wishing I could go back and change things.

I have spent an equal amount of time and energy worrying about the future.  What will tomorrow bring?  What does next week, next month, or next year hold for me and those I love?  Will I be up to the tasks that lay before me?  Will this body, this heart of mine, allow me to be there when my children graduate from college, choose to get married and have children of their own?

What a waste of precious time and emotional energy!  This moment is all we really have.  We cannot go back to the past, and we are not guaranteed any future time on this earth.  This moment is literally all there is.  But -- this moment is a TREMENDOUS gift from God.   We DO have THIS MOMENT.

God does not encourage us to regret.  Nor does God encourage us to fear and worry.  In fact, God's Word commands us NOT to engage in any of these activities.  Regret that brings us to repentance of past or present sin IS of God and restores our relationship to Him.  But too often regret has no purpose other than to discourage and dishearten us.  Regret usually allows no room for hope, restoration, or renewal.  And God has "great plans" for us.  Plans to give us a "hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11).

Fear and worry are also not of God.  "Fear not" is one of the most common phrases found in Scripture.  And the reason most often given to "fear not" is simply this -- because GOD IS WITH YOU.

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with My righteous right Hand."  (Isaiah 41:10)

"The Lord is my light and my salvation -- whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life -- of whom shall I be afraid?" (Psalm 27:1)

There is value in looking at the past.  I am the person I am in large part because of my past experiences, and God continues to teach me so much from these experiences.  And there is value in thinking and planning for the future.

But we must LIVE in the present.  This is where God is working.  Right here.  Right now.  In this moment.  It may seem like an ordinary moment -- just the passage of time.  But God is doing extraordinary things here, in this moment of your life.

"Yesterday's gone, and tomorrow may never come.  But we have this moment -- today."

"Seeking A Friend for the End of the World"

 
This is my first (and perhaps last) attempt at a movie review.  I really enjoy going to movies.  This comes as no great revelation to those who know me.  At our local theatre I don't even have to order my popcorn and drink.  They see me in line and have my order ready before I even reach the counter. Which might mean that... perhaps... I do attend too many movies.

However, in my defense, most movies are a learning experience for me.  I enjoy good character development,  intelligent dialogue, intricate plots and authentic relationships, but I also enjoy well-done CGI (and, on occasion, being frightened.)   Before I go to a movie I usually want to know what to expect.  I don't want to know how it ends, but --  is it a drama?  an action-flik?  will there be robots?  will I need someone to hang onto for half of the movie?  is it a comedy?  does it have a happy ending?  will it involve the destruction of major cities like New York and Hong Kong?  will people fall in love?  will good triumph over evil?  will the subject matter hit close to home?  will I leave the film smiling, crying, or thinking deep thoughts?

Often after a movie I wish I had a group of people, or at least ONE thoughtful person, to "unpack" it with -- because I'm still thinking about it (well, not after EVERY movie -- not much thought took place after "Rango" or "21 Jump Street.")

So that's why I'm writing this review -- it's a way for me to debrief without bugging other people.  And if anyone chooses to join me in the process of unpacking, all the better!  This movie review will not be a critique of the acting, editing, cinematography, lighting, etc., etc.  Instead, it's about how the film made me think, question, wonder -- about people, the world, and God.

My daughter Emily and I went to see "Seeking a Friend for the End of the World."  Normally I would do a bit more research on a film before going, but it was a quick decision.  So, about all I knew was that it was a comedy with Steve Carrel and Keira Knightley.  I'd heard Carrel interviewed on one of the late-night talk shows and I remembered him saying, "If you want to see a comedy about the apocalypse, this would be it."  I was intrigued.  I liked the actors.  And I was ready for a comedy.

What I got instead was a thought-provoking view of the state of humanity.  And it was terrifying and tragic and strange and beautiful and dark and hopeful, all at the same time.   This film is actually attempting to answer one of the most profound questions a human being could ever ask:  When confronted with the reality of one's impending death, what would you do with the short time you have left?

Don't worry -- if you haven't yet seen the film and still intend to, I promise not to give away any significant details of the plot.  But you do need to know the obvious.  The end of the world IS coming, and there is no attempt to hide this fact.  The main focus of the film becomes the relationship between Carrel and Knightley -- two people who at first glance could not be more different from one another.  However, the more we get to know them, the more we see what they have in common -- honesty, authenticity, and the ability to truly love one another -- self-sacrificial love -- in spite of the fact that they barely know one another, and in spite of, or perhaps because of, the fact that they only have about two weeks to be together.  In some ways, they represented the best of humanity to me.  While there really was no attempt to overtly talk about God or heaven, I felt they somehow "got it."  They found hope in EACH OTHER.  Stripping away all the games and pretenses that people engage in all the time, they simply cared for and loved each other. 

In the background of the film we see the rest of humanity, coping in various ways with the reality of the end of the world.  Some are in complete denial ("maybe if we ignore this, it will all go away").  Some have planned for this and are almost eager to see it come (the rugged survivalists, the "bring it on" warriors).  And most follow the same philosophy they have followed all their lives:  "Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die."  To the very end, they are pleasure seekers, because to them, this life is all that exists.

I found myself wanting to believe that this wouldn't be the case.  Surely people would seek out some deeper meaning to life when truly faced with death.  Surely they would try to reach out to something, someone "out there."  But most didn't.  There was no massive time of "soul searching."  No world-wide repentance.  No huge gathering of humanity seeking for truth and reconciliation.  For the most part, there were individuals struggling to simply make it through to the end.

This is where my friends would jump in and tell me, "Lori, it's only a movie!"  And they're right. But what can it teach us?  What does it say about us?  About the world?  About human beings?  What does it say about the Church?  What does it say about those of us who love Jesus and are trying to follow Him?  What would/should WE do?  I certainly don't have all the answers, but I'm more intent upon asking the questions now.

I thought I was seeing a comedy, but instead I got a movie that has kept me thinking about the deeper issues of life and the end of the world.  I hate it when that happens:)

Of course, the film's title IS "Seeking a Friend for the End of the World."  I have no one to blame but myself.

"This is gonna take a couple of minutes..."

I already knew I loved Greg and Rebecca Spark's music, so I was fairly certain I would find their teaching/speaking just as powerful.  I wasn't disappointed.  They were the speakers at our family camp a couple of weeks ago, and I found myself being blessed one moment, and incredibly challenged the next. 

On Tuesday night Rebecca shared a story from Mark's gospel -- that odd, difficult to interpret story of Jesus healing the blind man at Bethsaida.  It's odd because Jesus literally spits into the man's eyes to heal him.  And spitting into someone's face was as odd, and offensive, then as it is now.  And it's difficult to interpret because the man wasn't healed the first time Jesus touched him.  Jesus actually had to touch him a second time before he was completely healed.

I've heard (and read) many different interpretations of this miracle.  And probably most of them hold truth -- some more than others.  Was it the faith of the blind man that was in question?  Were there two different "levels" of healing?  Or are there different types of "touches" that we can experience from Jesus?

The truth is, no one knows for certain -- but I like Rebecca's interpretation the best.  You had to be there to fully appreciate it, but she encouraged us to consider this notion:  Maybe even Jesus needed time to accomplish a task.  Maybe even Jesus needed a second effort.  Maybe the PROCESS was just as important as the PROGRESS.

And in THAT truth, I find great hope.   Because then this miracle becomes a dramatic representation of the fact that our God is a God of second-chances.  Our God doesn't give up the first time.  He is not discouraged.  He does not lose hope.  Our God is a God of second, third, fourth, and fifth chances.

We are the ones who give up.  Our culture has programmed us that way.  We expect results now, and if we don't receive them, we become discouraged and disillusioned, we lose hope, and we often just give up.

We give up on our hopes and dreams.  We give up on our gifts and talents.

And even worse, we give up on people -- others, and ourselves.  We give up on relationships when they become too complicated, or when they reveal aspects of ourselves we don't like. We give up on people when they don't measure up to our expectations, when they fail us, when they make decisions that hurt us.  If it takes a second, or third, or fourth effort, we just don't have it in us.

But God does.  He knows we are all just a work in progress.  And He is not willing to give up on us.  To God, we are each worth a second, third, fourth, or 400th try.  The Bible is filled with stories of human beings who were all a work in progress -- and God didn't give up on them.  Indeed, God deemed them worthy of many chances, because He created them, He loved them, and He knew what they were capable of -- but He also knew it would be a process.

Discouragement, despair, and disillusionment are all powerful weapons in the enemy's arsenal.  And we often feel defeated because we forget that life is a process, and the most important things take time.

It's not Scripture, but the words of Winston Churchill still ring true:  "Never, never, never, never give up."  Never give up on God's ability to take what is broken, wounded, shattered, decayed, or worthless and make it whole again.

It might take awhile.  It might even take several chances.  But give it some time.  God's love is big enough.  And He isn't giving up, so don't you give up.  Don't give up on God.  Don't give up on other people.  Don't give up on yourself. 

The Gift of Suffering

I'm sitting at the desk in my room at the Carpenter Street Hotel, a block away from St. John's Hospital in Springfield, Illinois, where tomorrow I'll undergo another heart procedure.  In technical terms, it's a cardiac ablation.  First they'll do an EP study (electrical mapping of the heart) which will show them the place where the arrhythmia occurs.  Then they'll "zap" that place (I'm sure that's not quite the technical term, but it's close).  Hopefully this will deaden the tissue AND the arrhythmia. And hopefully this will take me back to some state of "normal" again.

I told my primary care doctor yesterday (who is also a good friend of mine) that I was hoping this procedure would make me a new person.  I loved her response.  "I don't want you to be a new person.  I like the old person.  I just want you to feel better."

However, I must admit that all this "heart stuff" has forced me to reflect upon many things.  I do tend to reflect a great deal anyway (can't really turn that off), but since I've been forced to think about my physical heart more, I've become acutely aware of how often people make references to the heart for a variety of reasons.  We talk about the heart when we refer to courage: "Take heart!"  In a debate, we want to "get to the heart of the matter."  When concerned we have a "heavy heart."  When grieving, a "broken heart."   We admire people who have "good hearts," and pray that those who don't might have a "change of heart."  We respect those who "give all their hearts" to a cause, and when something strikes us as truth, it can "cut straight to the heart."   And when we love -- that is, when we truly love, we love "with all our heart."

My physical heart has brought me physical suffering lately.  I am eager to end that, and am SO thankful for the prayers of my brothers and sisters in Christ and a gracious and merciful God Who has me in His loving care.

But the thought did occur to me -- what if I could ask my surgeon to perform a few additional tasks tomorrow -- you know, as long as he's in my heart already?  What if he could put a protective covering around my heart so that it couldn't break?  Or a safety net so that pieces of it couldn't venture out and implant themselves in other people, other situations, where I could no longer protect them?  What if he could install some type of warning mechanism that would tell me, "Danger -- be especially careful here -- don't invest too much -- your heart will incur damage."

And then the Truth "cut straight to my heart":

"He (Jesus) was despised and rejected by men, a Man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering...and by His wounds, we are healed"  (Isaiah 53:3-5).

Jesus.  The One sent by the Father because the Father loved us so much.  The One Who "became flesh and made His dwelling among us" (John 1:14).  Jesus understands what it means to have a broken heart because He has one Himself.  His great love flows through His brokenness, and in this love and grace we are healed.

So who I am to tell God what to do with my heart?  My heart belongs to Him.  And I am the person I am, in large part, as a result of God's grace and mercy displayed to me in the midst of my suffering.  And while I know there are countless others who have suffered far greater than I have, still, I know that God is faithful.  I know that God's grace is sufficient.  I know that God's love is more than I will ever need.  I know, because I have EXPERIENCED it, time and time again.   

And nothing brings me a deeper sense of purpose or a greater feeling of usefulness in God's Kingdom than when I can sit across from someone who is suffering, and can honestly say, from the depth of my soul, "I really do understand."  In that moment, any pain that I have felt as a result of situations or circumstances in my life is instantly replaced by a feeling of humble privilege --  the privilege of being used as an instrument of God's grace and healing in someone else's life. Because I've been there.  I've experienced it.  And I know that God is faithful.

So, even if I had the option of additional "helpful" procedures tomorrow, I'll take the heart I have.  And I will seek to love God with ALL this heart -- more and more each day.

"My Place in This World"

Place in This World
Michael W. Smith 

"The wind is moving, but I am standing still; A life of pages, waiting to be filled.
A heart that's hopeful, a head that's full of dreams. But this becoming is harder than it seems.

Feels like I'm looking for a reason, roamin' through the night to find my place in this world,
My place in this world.
Not a lot to lean on, I need your light to help me find my place in this world,
My place in this world.

If there are millions down on their knees, among the many can you still hear me?
Hear me asking, Where do I belong?  Is there a vision that I can call my own?

I'm looking for a reason, roamin' through the night to find my place in this world,
My place in this world.
Not a lot to lean on, I need your light to help me find my place in this world,
My place in this world."


Michael W. Smith released this song in 1990.  And when I heard it, I felt that finally, FINALLY, someone understood.  Michael had voiced the inner cry of my heart, and I would stick his cassette tape into my player and sing this song at the top of my voice (when I was alone, of course) and feel, at least for a few minutes, like I was understood.

That was 22 years ago, and I was still in my 20's (barely).  I had been out of college for years, married, and in ministry.  Yet I was still restless -- still struggling to find MY place in this world.   Insecure, deathly afraid of failing or disappointing others, way too vulnerable, with a heart that would break way too easily -- and yet I masterfully hid most of these feelings from almost everyone.

Until I could find some time alone, and then Michael and I would sing this song "together" -- and I would pour out my heart to God:  "I'm looking for a reason, roaming through the night to find my place in this world...not a lot to lean on, I need Your light to help me find my place in this world."  And by the time I reached that line, I was in tears, desperate for some peace and assurance that God still loved me.  God still had a plan for me.  God had not given up on me.

Now I am in my 50's (barely) and I think I have finally found my place in this world.  It's not a physical location.  It's not a place of employment or ministry.  It's not my vocation or calling.  It's not even a group of people or the community of faith.

 It's right here.  It's with me all the time.  It's always been here.  It is WITHIN.

"Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return.  Eternity is at our hearts, pressing upon our time-torn lives, warming us with intimations of an astounding destiny, calling us home unto Itself." (Thomas Kelly)

I am speaking of the Presence of the Holy Spirit, but in a deeper way than I have ever experienced before this past year.  My "place in this world," my place of peace, comfort, assurance, hope, unconditional love, is right here -- "an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place."  This is the place where God speaks most intimately to me.  This is the place where God holds me and shelters me and reminds me that I belong to Him and that NOTHING will change that.  This is the place where God whispers my name and delights in me because He created me. 

Where is YOUR place in this world?  My prayer is that you would stop searching all around, and simply look deep within, where the Lord is calling you HOME. 

"For we are so preciously loved by God that we cannot even comprehend it.  No created being can ever know how much and how sweetly and tenderly God loves them. " (Julian of Norwich)

"I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power...to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge -- that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." (Ephesians 3:17-19)