journey onWord with us

It’s Wednesday, and the plates have been cleared from the table.  It’s dinner at the home of a former leper … is anyone surprised that Jesus is there?  This man who was well-known for hanging around with the rough crowd and breaking bread with all manner of social outcasts, is reclining after dinner at Simon the leper’s house.  Contrary to proper etiquette, a woman (who would normally only approach the table to serve the men who were eating) approaches Jesus.  In her hands, she holds “a beautiful alabaster jar of expensive perfume made from essence of nard.” (Mark 14:3 NLT)  Perfume of such quality and quantity would be the equivalent of a year’s salary and would likely have been a treasured family heirloom or inheritance.  I think it’s fair to say this would have been a prized possession and would have amounted to most, if not all, of what she had of value in this world.  The last sentence of Mark 14:3 describes what happens next …

She broke open the jar and poured the perfume over his head. (NLT)

The immediate response in the room is shock and awe, and almost immediately the woman is in the cross-hairs of the indignant dinner crowd.  The Bible says “they rebuked her harshly.”  They are aghast and cannot fathom the depth of the wastefulness of this frivolous act.  There are multiple layers of hypocrisy and empty piety in the crowd’s reaction, and Jesus quickly sets things right.  He stands in her defense and returns their rebuke.

“Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”
Mark 14:6-9

There are five simple, yet powerful, words in the center of Jesus’ rebuke, which I believe are central to the sacrificial love this unnamed woman poured out that day.  “She did what she could.”

Just like the widow with two coins, this unnamed woman gave everything she had for the singular purpose of honoring (anointing) her King.  And in her giving, it was immeasurably important that she “broke open the jar.”  I believe there is deep significance in this very intentional act.  The unnamed woman did not simply uncap the jar and measure her pour.  She broke the jar making an irreversible commitment that its entire contents would be spent in the anointing of Jesus.  A whole and opaque vessel would allow for restraint and the possibility to keep a measure for herself.  It could give the appearance of pouring it all out, yet still allowing for some to be hidden and saved.  A broken vessel is an exposed vessel; there is no hiding with a broken vessel.  A broken vessel is a submitted vessel — one which can no longer be used for its prior purpose, and given fully to the purpose it was broken for.  These are the gifts of the unnamed woman … not only of the full measure of her earthly possession, but also of herself.

She broke open the jar and did what she could.  What perfect prose for our lives to speak.

If eternity has a gate, on the other side of it I wish to hear Jesus say to me, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”  On this side, I wish to hear, “He did what he could.”  If my life is indeed an alabaster jar, I wish for it to be completely broken with every ounce of the grace and life, which God has given me, poured out in service to Him.

Tomorrow’s sacred Seder and passionate declaration belong to tomorrow.  Stay present in the actions of the unnamed woman and what they speak into our lives today.

A pattern has been defined for my writing on this specific day in Jesus’ final week before His death.  For the past two years, I have shared stories on this day.  Jesus almost exclusively taught through the vehicle of story, and on this particular day in His final week, Jesus was in full teaching mode.  I have expressed in the past my love for His parables that begin with the words, “the kingdom of God is like” or “the kingdom of heaven is like.”  So today I continue my pattern and share another kingdom story that I was blessed to be a part of this past year.

Last April my wife Kristyn learned of a dear friend whose father was in the hospital, likely in his final days.  She reached out to her girlfriend to see if she could bring her family a meal.  Kristyn’s friend was spending nearly all her waking hours sitting with her mother, comforting her father as he suffered with multiple painful ailments.  In responding, she asked if Kristyn might just come and sit with her the next day in the hospital — a gracious and courageous request in the face of what she was enduring.  It is courageous to welcome someone into such a deeply personal space, and it is exceedingly gracious to allow someone to come alongside at a time when you’re most vulnerable.

Kristyn quickly agreed, and it was a beautiful day spent together.  As her friend would later tell me, Kristyn’s presence allowed her to begin grieving.  As Kristyn would later share, it was an absolute joy and privilege to simply sit with her friend.  It was an abundant serving of daily bread; bread (from the very hand of the Father) whose ingredients were the time Kristyn gave and the invitation her friend offered.  It was kingdom stuff, for sure.

I texted her friend later that afternoon to see if I could bring her some dinner on my way home from work, or maybe I could just come and sit for a bit.  She was gracious once again, and said she would love a cup of soup and coffee … one cream, one sugar.  I arrived with both, almost 20 minutes later.  We hugged, she thanked me and invited me to sit with her in the common area just down the hall from her father’s room.

As I sat and listened, I was overwhelmed by the truth that we were sharing a truly sacred space.  She was doing what she could to love her father fully to his very last breath, and gift him dignity in the midst of a scene that seemed everything but.  Sin authored death, and sin is equally responsible for pain.  Sin was fighting for the headlines in that space, but her father’s belief in Jesus and the Christ-like love his wife, daughter and family were actively living, outshined the darkness.

As we sat and talked further, I asked my friend to share a story involving her and her dad — one that might give me a deeper sense of who he was.  She shared how, as a young girl, she would ride in her dad’s pickup truck to and from his job sites.  He was a construction foreman, and she loved riding in that truck with him.  She shared how he loved to take his kids to the Thanksgiving Day Parade in downtown Detroit.  How he would setup scaffolding so they could be up higher to see everything.  How he loved photography and music.  My friend is a soloist with a beautiful voice.  She explained that she got her love of music from her mom and dad.  They used to sing (loudly) in the car, and her parents would always say, “Sing louder Kimmy, so we can hear you!”  It was not easy to watch my friend share those memories, because intermingled with the smiles and chuckles was a deep sense of sorrow in the here and now.  It was sacred time in a sacred space, and I was so grateful to be able to share it with her.

As she finished her soup, she invited me down to her father’s room.  It was no small invitation, and I was beyond honored and humbled.  As I entered the room, I saw her mother sitting at her father’s bedside, holding his hand, smiling at him.  What an amazing picture of both earthly and godly love.  I was introduced, and stood at the foot of her father’s bed silently and reverently.  I was reminded of times in scripture where people were speechless in the presence of God.  I would consider myself (as would others, I suppose) as someone whose default urge would be to say something.  I am rarely shy with words.  But in that moment, and in that space, it felt right to simply stand in silence.  I had an urge that I wish I had obeyed.  As I stood silently, I felt the urge to take off my shoes.  I had the strongest sense I was standing on holy ground.

Very soon after we arrived, my friend’s mother began to sing.  The song was Amazing Grace, and it was, indeed, a sweet sound.  After the first few words, my friend joined her mother in perfect harmony.  There they were, mother and daughter, honoring their dying husband and father in a way that was so genuinely a part of who they all were together.  It was as if they were sitting on the bench seat of that old pickup truck all over again.

I closed my eyes and listened prayerfully … and then found myself joining in a verse later. I put my arm around my friend and my other hand on her father’s foot.  I don’t know how long we sang, but the world around us seemed to dissolve away.  If holy could get any “holier,” it did.

As I rode the elevator to the first floor on my way home that night, my heart and mind returned to our conversation in the common area.  There were two words that came flooding back and repeated themselves over and over.  I seem to recall she shared them either in the context of her parade memories, or her father’s love of photography.  He had a phrase which has taken a forever place in the vernacular with which my heart and life speak, and she only had to speak it once for it to land there.  My friend shared that her father was fascinated by the colors which were revealed by a cleansing rain.  He had a unique and beautiful way of describing them to anyone who would listen.  The phrase was burned into her memory.  He called them “carnival colors.”  Carnival colors … I will never forget those words, or what they meant to me in that moment.

I prayed as the elevator descended.  I prayed that my friend would see those colors after the cleansing tears that no doubt would come when her father met Jesus face to face (just a few days later).  I prayed that she would associate those colors in her life with the memory of her father, as a gift from her Father in heaven.  Just as God gave the gift of a rainbow so we would all remember, He gave the gift of carnival colors so she would.  May we all live life in full recognition and awareness of the carnival colors all around us … the colors that are revealed after cleansing rains, and during kingdom moments.

The kingdom of God is like … the conversations, songs and memories of the ICU floor and hospital room of Wayne T. Rodd.

My chest fills with air, and I breathe out a long and deep sigh as I wake on Monday morning.  I am exhausted – exhausted in my walking with Jesus these past few weeks.  There’s a palpable and growing sense of urgency in His steps and interactions; I should say, that is what I am feeling, but there’s, amazingly, no evidence of it in His physicality.  He seems to carry on as though He requires no sleep. Whereas I am ravenous from the pace we’ve been keeping, He seems nourished by an altogether different “bread;” His thirst quenched by a deeper well-spring.  Since I began following, I have always observed a strong sense of purpose in Jesus, but something is different now.  It seems as though He’s trying to tell us all something, but I’m not quite getting it yet.

Yesterday was quite a day.  I have never seen the city like that. Something is obviously going on, and I wonder how we’ll find it today.  Jesus told us He’d be leaving early for the walk back to Jerusalem, so I’d better get up and get myself ready.

Can you imagine what it would have been like to have followed Jesus?  I’m not talking about the incredible experience we have now to study His life and to walk and love as He did.  I am talking about actually waking up and hearing the One who spoke creation into existence say “good morning” to you, to eat with Him, watch Him heal someone, talk to Him as you walked together, to experience Him as a flesh and blood friend.  This is the context in which the disciples experienced Jesus.  To understand them is to understand that critical truth.  We live His example having read the last sentence of the last chapter already.  They were living the story even before it was written.

And so begins Monday and their early morning walk to Jerusalem.  Not far along the road, Jesus pauses and changes course.  He leaves the road in the direction of a far off fig tree.  Mark says “Jesus was hungry,” (Mark 11:12b) and heads off towards the tree to get a bit of breakfast … or did He?  The disciples must have been a bit confused by this diversion.  It wasn’t fig season, what was Jesus doing?  In a flurry of actions and words that must have been insanely difficult for the disciples to process, Jesus inspects the fig tree, curses it and walks off.  What?!!  “What in the world just happened?” I can hear the disciples saying.  I can see them exchanging awkward glances, maybe whispering to each other, “What was that all about?”

Once again, we have the benefit of looking backward at the fig tree.  We arrive at it first seeing resurrection, then Jesus’ death, then His praying in the garden, and so on until we reach the fig tree.  But put yourself in the place of the disciples.  They are walking forward in this journey with Jesus.  As many times as we can look at them through our lens and judge them for their arrogance, weakness or failure to grasp the obvious, that many times we can see ourselves doing the very same things in our right now.  How many times has Jesus asked us to get out of the boat and trust Him?  How many times have we taken credit for something that was obviously His doing?  How many times have we pretended like we “don’t even know the man!”? (Matt. 26:72 NLT)

Let’s thank God for the truth Jesus taught on this particular Monday in both the interaction with the fig tree and cleaning house at the temple.  Let’s give some grace to the disciples and acknowledge God’s grace in our own lives (when we don’t get the obvious truths He’s trying to teach us through the people and activity of our everyday lives).  In cursing the fig tree and driving the profiteers out of the temple, Jesus judges and then executes the sentence on things which give “the appearance of.”  He desires for our lives to be inwardly what they “say” outwardly.  “Don’t be a believer deceiver,” I can hear Him say.  “Do not peddle a ‘faith’ that you yourself are not living.”

Thank you for making the choice to walk forward in the story, to walk the road from Bethany to Jerusalem in the sandals of the disciples.  Tomorrow’s parables and kingdom stories belong to tomorrow.  Stay present in today.

This year you have joined us on a journey through scripture focused on the premise that its characters lives and stories are really our own.  They are us, and their thrilling adventures and epic failures are also very much ours.  Nowhere is this any truer than in the story of the week leading up to the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  Sadly, however, we rarely step into the story in a real and genuine way – a way which places us elbow-to-elbow with the crowd lining the streets of Jerusalem, milling amongst the pilgrims at the temple, walking with the disciples each morning and evening between Bethany and Jerusalem, sitting at the foot of Jesus as He teaches, reclining at the table during his anonymous anointing or the sacred Seder, praying (sleeping) in the garden, shouting at His trials, hiding along the cross road, weeping at a safe distance from the foot of the cross, stunned in the silence of a Sabbath unlike any other, racing to the empty tomb.  This week, we hope to visit those places and look into those faces and see our own reflection.  The crowds, the disciples, the servants, the hypocrites, the traitors, the doubters, the soldiers, the followers … they are us.

As our story begins, we hear the din of the capital city at the onset of Passover.  It must have been a sight to see.  Pilgrims from far and wide descend on Jerusalem for the central festival and celebration of the Jewish people.  It gets no bigger than this.  It’s Times Square on December 31st, and Taylor Swift is coming to perform! — Okay, please forgive the incredibly poor reference, but maybe it can do some good to take the flannel graph scene down and see it in a context we can relate to.  As people mill around near the city center to check in at the inn, buy their Passover lamb or just be where the action is, news of Jesus’ visit begins to spread.  The Messiah is coming, and the anticipation is growing!  Their mighty deliverer is coming, and they are more than ready!  The smell of justice and freedom is in the air, and it’s being circulated by broken-off palm branches.

There is no doubt as to the expectations of the gathering crowd.  Jesus was their conquering king, and the time was almost here for their forceful liberation from their current oppression.  They would no longer be slaves to Rome’s master.  Jesus is coming and the chants of “Save us, now!” will soon be in full throat.

The din begins to swell as the very first person at the gates to the city catches a glimpse of Jesus at yet a far off distance and shouts the news to all who have ears to hear.  Word spreads as Jesus draws closer.   The late-comers, those who are joining for the spectacle more than belief, now pour out into the streets and take their places along the parade route.

Jesus approaches the gate.  The shouts of “Hosanna!” — “Save us, now!” — are reaching their peak of fervor.  This is the beautiful crescendo that precedes the beautiful mess.  This is the height of acceptance and adulation that precedes the brutal discovery that Jesus is not at all who they thought He was.  His motives were not theirs.  The freedom He desired for them was from an oppression altogether different from the one they had on their minds and lips.  “Save us now, Jesus!  We are ready to fall in behind your war-horse and march directly to the seat of power!”

As I close my eyes and attempt to insert myself into the crowd, I wonder what was happening as Jesus actually arrived and proceeded through the streets of the city.  Did people notice the small donkey?  Did it look odd?  Were there some who stopped shouting and waving their branches long enough to exchange confused glances?  We notice clearly Jesus’ intentional choice of an undersized and humble beast of burden.  We see clearly its contradiction from the way the crowd expected Jesus to arrive.  But did they?  Were the seeds of disappointment and rejection planted this day, or did the crowd remain raucous and eventually disperse feeling hopeful and expectant for what was to come?  Was Jesus smiling and waving as He rode along?  What did He see in the faces (and through to the hearts) of those He made eye contact with that day?  I think we can be quick to see this day in a very narrow and shallow way.  I believe it is good to pause and consider, to close our eyes and place ourselves amid the crowd.  The crowd is us — it’s our neighbors, our co-workers, our family, people we pass in the aisles at the market, those we sit next to in church or at the game.

This scene is the opening paragraph of the epic tale of redemption.  One part of one day which sets in motion God’s plan to win us back.  Sin has taken us from Him and He wants us back … at the ultimate cost of the very life of his only Son.

We have approached and passed through the gate as He did.  Every step He takes from this point forward is one that has been authored to win us back.  We look back at this particular point in human history and see everything through the lens of resurrection.  It is right, and it is good to do that.  Will you (now, in this moment) make a choice to walk forward through the story, suppressing your knowledge of its final sentences?  Journey through this week with us as if you were standing in the crowd today.  Tomorrow’s fig tree and temple tables belong to tomorrow.  Stay present in today.

Years ago, a man whom I was counseling on issues related to his marriage gave me a solemn, but telling description of it.  His words were … its seventy-two degrees on the porch and thirty degrees in the house.  He felt all alone in his own home.  When our twenty year-old daughter headed to New York City for college, she didn’t know a soul.  She was all alone in a sea of humanity (and rats in her dorm).  And it has been several years ago now since a close friend of mine attended a meeting of like-minded professionals.  During the meeting, he shared the pain of his wife passing away just months before.  The other attendees gave lip service to caring, and then proceeded with their meeting.  My friend was all alone in the company of people he was convinced would really care about his pain. I could continue with countless other examples of those overwhelming emotions which capture us when we feel all alone, but I believe you get my point.

My recent reading and studying have been focused on a “man after God’s own heart.” You know him as David. His life was filled with an inordinate amount of peaks and valleys. My reading has given me a fresh look at David’s life – strengths and weaknesses alike. After his slaying of Goliath and the fanfare that ensued, his life took a painful turn. For a long season, he was on the run from King Saul. His outlaw life placed him in a cave for a time, during which he wrote Psalm 142. Saul was intent on taking David’s life when the words were penned. There is no doubt he was in danger, overwhelmed and feeling abandoned. Words from this marvelous Psalm speak to his trust, and give hope to all Christ followers.

When I am overwhelmed, you alone know the way I should turn. Wherever I go, my enemies have set traps for me.  I look for someone to come and help me, but no one gives me a passing thought! No one will help me; no one cares a bit what happens to me. Then I pray to you, O Lord.  I say, “You are my place of refuge. You are all I really want in life.
Psalm 142:3-5 (NLT)

David was overwhelmed, and lamented that no one really cared about what happened to him. When is the last time you had that all alone feeling? Have you ever felt like no one really gave much thought to what you were experiencing? Sure, you weren’t running from enemies, but the feelings of aloneness still overwhelmed you. We all know what it’s like to feel alone at home, in a crowd or with people we thought cared about us (but really didn’t). The key is how we respond to those inevitable times when our emotions of being all alone seek to dim our view of God.

In David’s cave “prison,” we see his pain bubble to the surface. It’s interesting that we, at the same time, witness a supreme confidence in his Lord. He said, you alone know the way I should turn. He later prayed, You are my place of refuge. You are all I really want in life. David knew God had an answer for his aloneness.  He affirmed that God was his refuge and further declared that his desire in life was God. His faith and confidence in Jehovah conquered his feelings of abandonment in the cave.

You and I will experience times when we feel all alone … even in a room full of people. There will also be times we feel no one understands, cares, or gives our pain a passing thought. But there is Someone who cares! He never misses a moment of your life, and if you are in Christ, you are never all alone in your struggle. Both my and your challenge is this — Will we make God our refuge for every day?  Will we desire His plan for us above all else? If we do, faith will conquer our feelings and we will know beyond any shadow of a doubt, we are never all alone.

It was one of my favorite Bible stories from Sunday school growing up.  I even loved the little song that we sang.

Only a boy named David
Only a little sling …
And the sling went round and round …

There are those who believe it’s the greatest Bible story ever, but reading it again (as an adult this time) I saw the story in a whole new light.  David had been relegated back to shepherd boy — from court musician to the king’s armor bearer, then back to shepherd.  He must have been so disappointed.  A young man of 19 who thought he was going to experience the excitement of the battlefield only to be sent back to the lonely pasture with the silent sheep.  But God’s timing and placement is always perfect because David needed a little bit more training.  It was during this time that David killed a bear and a lion with not much more than his bare hands.

But David said to Saul, “Your servant has been keeping his father’s sheep. When a lion or a bear came and carried off a sheep from the flock, I went after it, struck it and rescued the sheep from its mouth. When it turned on me, I seized it by its hair, struck it and killed it.  Your servant has killed both the lion and the bear; this uncircumcised Philistine will be like one of them, because he has defied the armies of the living God. The LORD who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine.”
I Samuel 17:34-37 (NIV)

Grabbing a wild animal by its hair?! God was teaching this young man courage, confidence and warfare. But the most important principle learned was that God would give the victory. In situations most perilous, God would give the victory.  In impossible predicaments, God would give the victory.  When the odds were all against him, God would give the victory.   When the giant Goliath blasphemed the name of David’s God, he was unafraid.  And when the two of them had a shouting match on the battlefield, David answered all the questions for Goliath:

WHY?       Your daily ranting is actually an offense to my God.
WHO?       I will slay you.
WHAT?     Complete victory
HOW?       Not by human might, but by the power of my God.
WHEN?      Now
WHERE?    Here

David had gathered 5 stones, but it took only one.  We truly can do all things through Christ; He strengthens us beyond human understanding.  Even if we have to go back to the pasture, when we thought we would be traveling with the king!  Maybe we’re still in training – we just don’t know it yet.  I love this Bible story!

I get chills when I read I Samuel 17:45-47 as David tells Goliath what he is going to do and why.  This is undeniably one of the greatest military victories in history – a combination of man and God.  David practicing countless hours with his sling as he fought boredom out in the pasture, and God enabling his servant.  Great spiritual victories come from a scenario like this.  Keith Kaynor, in his book When God Chooses says, “If a believer can totally explain his successes, there isn’t much God in them!”

I wonder if you can recall any moments in your story where you were sent back to pasture before being led to the battlefield.  How do you recount those moments to others?  How much God do you see?  How much God do you tell?

Do you ever wonder how much value you add to the lives of those around you? An even more thought-provoking question is… “Am I doing anything that has eternal significance?” We all want to add value and as Christ followers it’s only natural to want to make an eternal impact on others. But the tendency is to focus on our weaknesses, and what we can’t do rather than accepting God’s special design and individual purpose for us. I am writing this article for anyone who has ever had those, “What can I do?” or “am I making any difference?” negative thoughts. Place yourself in Edward Kimball’s position, and realize that God can take your small gestures for Him and multiply them exponentially.

Edward Kimball was a Sunday school teacher from Boston. I am so excited for you to hear this story that started with his faithfulness. I am not sure where the writing originated, but the content is simply profound.

Edward taught Sunday school at his church because he felt called to invest himself in the lives of young boys and men. To get to know his students better, he would often visit them during the week where they lived or worked. One Sunday, a challenging teenager showed up in his class. The boy was seventeen, a bit rough-hewn, poorly educated, and prone to outbursts of anger and profanity. Edward considered how he might reach this boy, and one day decided to visit him at the shoe store where he worked for his uncle. Kimball passed by the store once, trying to get up the courage to speak to the boy.

What would he say, he wondered, and how would he be received? Finally, he entered and found the boy in the back, wrapping shoes and putting them on the shelves. Edward went to him, put his hand on the young man’s shoulder and mumbled some words about Christ’s love for him. Apparently his timing was just right, because right there in the shoe store, the boy was moved to commit his life to Christ. This teenager’s name was Dwight L. Moody. He grew to become the most successful evangelist of the nineteenth century, preaching to an estimated one hundred million people during his lifetime and traveling perhaps a million miles before the time of radio, television, automobiles, and air travel!

But wait … the story gets better! Moody (in 1879) led a young man named F. B. Meyer to Christ, who later became a minister. Meyer was instrumental in J. W. Chapman’s conversion to Christ, who later started a ministry to professional baseball players. One of the players, Billy Sunday, started working with J. W. Chapman in his evangelistic efforts. Billy Sunday would go on to become, perhaps, the greatest evangelist of the first two decades of the twentieth century.

One of Sunday’s revivals (during the 1920’s) in Charlotte, NC was so powerful that one of his associates (who accepted Christ at one of his crusades) was asked to come back a few years later to hold a second series of meetings. And wouldn’t you know it, on one of the final nights of that crusade another young teenager came down the aisle to commit his life to Christ. The young man’s name was Billy Graham!

One Sunday school teacher, Edward Kimball, cared enough to step out of his comfort zone and speak to young Mr. Moody. He was simply obeying His Lord. Millions have come to saving faith in Jesus Christ from that obedience. Your obedience may not reach millions, but it will have eternal benefits.  What you can do will make a difference!

The depth of a mother’s love is incalculable.  Sure, most men also have an incredible capacity to love their children, but after carrying a child for nine months, giving birth and imparting so much of your life to a child creates a boundless bond between and a mother and her children.  It’s also hard for any husband to comprehend the depth of emotion that overwhelms a wife who is not able to bear children.  Scripture gives us the opportunity to drop in on a Godly woman who was barren, but then gave birth.  Hannah is an inspiration to all women (and men) of someone who went to God with her problem, saw Him answer dramatically and then obeyed from a heart of deep love for God.

Hannah’s family had love, but dysfunction.  Her husband (Elkanah) was a man who loved his wife, but violated God’s principle of monogamy.  He had two wives, Peninnah and Hannah. Hannah was his first wife, and she was barren.  He then married Peninnah, and it is logical to believe it was because of Hannah’s inability to have children.  Peninnah had children, and she was a definite irritant to Hannah. Can you imagine the pain that would have caused?  I Samuel 1:7 states that, Year after year it was the same—Peninnah would taunt Hannah as they went to the Tabernacle.  Each time, Hannah would be reduced to tears and would not even eat.

Hannah was godly, and on one of the trips to Shiloh for worship and sacrifice to the Lord Almighty, Scripture details an amazing scene.  Look at the depth of her emotion in verses 10-11.  

Hannah was in deep anguish, crying bitterly as she prayed to the Lord. And she made this vow, “O Lord of Heaven’s Armies, if you will look upon my sorrow and answer my prayer and give me a son, then I will give him back to you. He will be yours for his entire lifetime, and as a sign that he has been dedicated to the Lord, his hair will never be cut.”

In the depth of her despair, she went to God and prayed specifically for a son, and then made an incredible vow (I will give him back to you).  What an amazing promise!  People often make selfless vows to God while in deep despair only to recant when the pressure is off. Hannah glorified God by honoring her vow.

In the will of God, she gave birth to Samuel. At this time in history, Israel was in need of a godly leader and Samuel filled that role. Interestingly enough, his character bore the influence of his mother.  True to her words, after weaning Samuel (typical time was at about the age of three) she took Samuel to Eli at the tabernacle at Shiloh to live permanently. She gave him back to the Lord and was no longer with her son full-time.  I can imagine the separation was hard (a mother’s love), but Hannah was committed to obedience.  Amazingly, God chose to then bless her with three more sons and two daughters.

Hannah’s story has relevance today. Dysfunctional homes are normal, and real pain is a natural result. Hannah’s response also has relevance. She sought God specifically in the midst of very intense struggle.  Beyond just praying for a child, she made a vow that would require obedience … and she obeyed!

This great woman’s example is dropped into our lives as a model of how all Christ-followers should respond to life. Seek God with our every burden and then live with obedience. And oh, by the way … Hannah also teaches us that God gives us children so we might give them back to Him. For most parents, Hannah’s sacrifice of obedience will never be required, but will we live by the vows we made dedicating our children to the Lord?

Stop right now and pray for your children, and live as God would choose in front of them today!

Have you ever watched a soap opera?  Okay, so maybe no one is going to admit that here … but I know some of you are out there!  Oh, the drama!  Broken hearts, loss, loyalty, hardship, travail and of course, romance … actually it sounds a lot like the Book of Ruth to me!  John MacArthur, in his book Twelve Extraordinary Women, calls the Book of Ruth one of the most deeply touching stories in Scripture.  Here is a brief synopsis:

A severe famine in the land forces a devout Jewish family to go to Moab in order to survive.  It is there that the husband and both married sons die (Scripture is silent as to what happened).  The grief-stricken and now destitute widow, Naomi, makes the decision to return to her home in Bethlehem.  Both Moabite daughters-in-law begin the journey with her, but Naomi urges them to stay as she knows how they will be accepted in Bethlehem.  One turns back, but Ruth stays with Naomi. Ruth chapter 1 says,

But Ruth said, “Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.

When the women arrive in Bethlehem, the entire city was abuzz with the news that Naomi had returned, destitute, and with a Moabite daughter-in-law in tow!  Moabites were considered some of the worst pagans around.  Naomi is a widow — childless, aging and poor — could it get any worse for a Jewish woman at this time?  The two find a place to stay, so the next order of business is to find a way to get food.  Jewish law dictated that whatever fell from the workers’ hands was to remain in the field so the poorest could always find food.  In fact, it was also mandated that some fruit always be left on the trees — also for the poor.  So Naomi sends Ruth into the fields and somehow she chooses the property owned by one of Naomi’s distant relatives, Boaz.     Scripture gives every indication that Boaz was a confirmed bachelor, but I can’t help but wonder if he was smitten by Ruth from the very first meeting.  He told her to only glean in his fields and to take food and water with his workers.  He also ordered his workers to drop extra for Ruth, and for his young men to leave her alone.  When Ruth began bringing home 4x’s the amount of food, Naomi asked how that was possible; it was then that Naomi realized the family connection.  Mmmm hmmm, beautiful, young widow … handsome, rich, and shy bachelor … He needed some prodding and Naomi was the one to do it!

Her scheme was unconventional, bold and forward, but it worked like a charm; Ruth actually proposed to Boaz!  We find the story in Ruth Chapter 3, and it is soooo romantic.  After taking care of one little obstacle, the couple is married and Naomi and Ruth have a safe and prosperous home for the rest of their lives.

I usually try to deliver a punch line at this point in the blog, some type of application to the story. We would be wise to emulate the lives of any of these three people – their faith, loyalty, compassion and bravery.  And we can see God’s hand in all of these events – Ruth just happens to wander into Boaz’s field, he speaks to her, Naomi put it all together, the location of Bethlehem, etc. But let’s just let the story speak for itself; it’s a picture of God’s sovereignty, His wisdom, His omnipotence and His perfect plan.

Maybe just a little bit more…

First, Boaz is believed to be the great-grandson of Rahab the harlot.  Second, the firstborn of Ruth was Obed, the father of Jesse, the father of (wait for it!) David – yes, as in King David.  Ruth was David’s great-grandmother.  So the poor, destitute widow from a pagan land, whose loyalty and faith in the true God brought her to a foreign country, became a mother in the royal lineage of Jesus Christ.

This is way better than any soap!

Their Story is Our Story…

As I sit to write an article on Samson, I find myself struggling to wrap my arms around his life. At the very same time, I am also pondering a very meaningful and life changing statement that I read during the last week.  Please forgive me if my words seem a bit scattered, but my intent is to cause you to pause … to pause while taking a look at how you are approaching life.

It’s been over twenty years since I entered a funeral home to perform a very small funeral; less than five people attended. I had officiated the funeral of a man’s father and now his mother had died. He knew what I was going to ask, and his words in response to my expected question were unforgettable. He said, “I know you are going to ask me to tell you something good about my mother, but I can’t … there was nothing good about her.” As you can imagine, it was a hollow service.  As I read about Samson recently, I struggled to find much good about him. He was given such a gift (strength), but reading about his life was anything but uplifting (until the end).

My knowledge of Samson started early in life as I was introduced to an incredibly strong man who was never to have his hair cut.  Strange but true, cutting his hair would result in losing his great strength.  He was a judge of Israel for twenty years, known mostly for the acts of supernatural strength he performed, for he was a man who lived below his spiritual potential.  Samson violated God’s laws, let his life be controlled by sensuality, was manipulated by a woman named Delilah, and ended up in prison as a blind man (his eyes had been gouged out) grinding grain.  His last act of strength was to push on the two pillars that held up the temple of the Philistines.  I believe he repented of his sin in that prison, before God graciously gave him the strength for a final triumph.  Interesting he was referenced in Hebrews 11:33…

By faith these people overthrew kingdoms, ruled with justice, and received what God had promised them. 

There is much in Samson’s life that causes me to ask, “Why did he waste such potential?” But I know that God saw something worthy of listing this man in the Hall of Faith chapter (Hebrews 11).  In the end, I believe he placed his dependence on the Lord.

Samson’s life was defined by choices.  We may not be able to relate to his strength or the fact that he judged Israel for twenty years, but we too will have our lives defined by choices. None of us can re-write history, but the future of all Christ-followers should be defined by selfless love to those around us; the you-before-me kind of love exemplified by Jesus.  Samson’s life looked very selfish to me, and if we are not careful the same can be said of you and me. Without a doubt, the more we focus on self, the less we truly love others.

As I stated at the beginning of this article, there was a statement that I read this week that was profound. It originated from a commitment which the people of a church in Washington State made to one another. In the book, Love, Acceptance and Forgiveness, Jerry Cook shares the commitment.

You will never knowingly suffer at my hands. I will never say anything or do anything knowingly to hurt you. I will always, in every circumstance, seek to help and support you. If you’re down and I can lift you up—I’ll do that. If you need something and I have it, I’ll share it with you. If I need to, I’ll give it to you. No matter what I find out about you, no matter what happens in the future—either good or bad—my commitment to you will never change.  And there is nothing you can do about it.

Could you and I repeat and live those words to those around us, at work, at church and in our homes? For all Christ-followers the answer is yes, but it will be a disciplined choice. Loving others this way will be a reflection of the Savior’s you-before-me life, and its impact will be incredible!

Samson made choices, and centuries later in a very different world, so will we. Going forward, will your life be dominated by a choice to selflessly love?