Chapters 9 and 10 of Hosea is talking about the punishment that’s in store for Israel … they’ve turned their backs on God, going through the motions and have been unrepentant for their actions.  Now, God has had enough.

“Their treasures of silver will be taken over by briers, and thorns will overrun their tents.” (Hosea 9:6b)

Brier patches and thorns hurt.  If you drop something in a thicket of thorns, you need to decide how bad you want it back … how much you value the dropped item … because it’s gonna hurt trying to get it back.  A thick patch of thorns will snag your shirt sleeve and prick the skin … you will shed some blood.  And, I’ve tended enough roses to know that the last thing I want in my house, where I sit and sleep, is a bunch of thorns.

What the Israelites treasured — their silver (money) — the comfort it could provide, along with the comfort and security of their dwellings (their tents), wouldn’t offer comfort any more.

Of course, the question is now turned to me … what do I treasure? … where am I placing my trust and security? … to whom or what am I looking to for comfort?

If it’s anything or anyone but Christ … well, it’s only an illusion.

“The prophet, along with my God, is the watchman over Ephraim, yet snares await him on all his paths, and hostility in the house of his God.” (Hosea 9:8)

These words seem to scream for my attention.  Of course, I’m reminded of the “watchman” from Ezekiel 3:17 where the Lord has appointed Ezekiel to a “watchman” over Israel.  As a watchman, Ezekiel was charged to warn the people of their deaths due to their sins, and, hopefully, to get them to stop and repent.  As a watchman, it wasn’t Ezekiel’s role to actually stop / prevent the people from sinning — that was their own choice and responsibility.  However, as watchman, Ezekiel was responsible to give the warning.

Yet, Ezekiel isn’t around anymore … so who is the “watchman?” … whose job is it to sound the warning?

The scripture says the “prophet, along with my God, is the watchman” …who’s the prophet?

According to the Dictionary the first three definitions  for a prophet are (1) one who utters divinely inspired revelations; (2) one gifted with more than ordinary spiritual and moral insight; (3) one who foretells the future.

And then I think of who is a follower of Christ.  The follower should be relying on the Holy Spirit to speak through him / her.  The follower knows the future:  “the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life.”

Could this possibly mean that the follower of Christ, along with God, is a watchman?

Then my mind wanders to the word / concept of the whistle-blower — the person who informs others (usually the press) of someone else’s wrong-doings, i.e., falsifying records, scams, lying, selling secrets, insider trading, embezzling, etc.  Of course, the whistle-blower does so after the fact.  The watchman is to be proactive — before it happens.

Which am I — whistle-blower or watchman?

It’s so much easier to the be wistle-blower.  I can just passively sit back and let others “do their own thing.”  I don’t have to worry about being “politically incorrect,” offending someone, disagreeing with someone, sharing what I think, or do anything.  I can just blend into the background, watch, and wait.  Then when everyone is done — when things start to fall apart … well, I can step in and “blow the whistle.”  I can say, “well, I knew it was the wrong decision, but I didn’t want you mad at me … I didn’t want you to think I was telling you what to do.  But I knew what you were doing wasn’t the best thing for you.”

However, to be the watchman takes courage … to be proactive, to share — in love — when someone is going down the wrong path, making the wrong decision, to share a warning (maybe when no one else can see the danger) … yes, that takes courage.  A courage I don’t have … well, not on my own anyway.

It requires the courage, gentleness and guidance of the Holy Spirit.

Lord, I ask for Your forgiveness when I’ve taken the easy way out … when I’ve been content to be the “whistle-blower.”  I don’t want to be passive for You … I want to be fully engaged in the service You’ve called me to do.  I don’t want to pressure people — to guilt them — to criticize them.  I want to love them … as You do.  And, in that love, I want to make sure that I share that there’s a better way — Your Way.  A way that leads to peace, to comfort, to forgiveness, to mercy, to love, to life-everlasting.

Lord, help me to be the watchman … to not allow Satan to silence the warning.  Help me to be the woman — the follower — You’ve called me to be.  Help me to love enough to sound the warning … love enough to help – to encourage those who are lost and hurting to run to You.  Amen!  Amen!

May everything we say and do be pleasing and acceptable in His sight.

“Country roads take me home to the place I belong – West Virginia, Mountain Momma … take me home, country roads.”

Well, I’m not from West Virginia — the country roads of Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina, to be more accurate.  But a few months ago, that song was definitely running through my mind.

Through work, I had an opportunity to attend a meeting in Charlotte, NC … since I had family in the area, my boss gave me the okay to take some personal time and drive in for the meeting from Iowa to North Carolina — that way I could visit with family and friends.  (Thanks Roger!)

I had a wonderful time visiting with my Dad and his wife, Argent.  I hadn’t had the opportunity to see them both for a some time.  I was blessed with the opportunity to go to church with them one Sunday and hear one of the pastors from my childhood, Bro. Jaynes, and visit with his wife, Karen (and hear her sing in the choir.)  Sitting by my Dad in a church service, hearing Sis. Jaynes’ beautiful voice praising the Lord and Bro. Jaynes’ booming voice delivering the Lord’s message … well, it brought back so many wonderful memories, I found that there were tears in my eyes.

But it wasn’t quite the same as it use to be … I wasn’t home.

When I drove from Kingsport to Charlotte, I decided to swing by Valdese, North Carolina.  My paternal grandparents — both with the Lord now — lived there.  I wanted to go by and visit their house — long since sold to strangers.  I had so many wonderful memories of spending time there during the summer — of Grandmother freezing corn and making me rice for breakfast; of Grandfather feeding the squirrels and having some of them get the peanuts right out of his shirt pocket!  I took pictures of the house and street side that bears the family name.  But there was no one there to greet me on the porch … I didn’t have the right to walk around to the back patio, sit and listen to the breeze in the trees.

It looked similar, but it wasn’t the same … I wasn’t home.

After my work meeting, I decided to drive from Charlotte over to Atkins, Virginia.  That’s where my mother grew up and where she’s buried.  I turned off of the old Lee Highway on to Rocky Hollow Road.  I passed my Aunt Skinny’s house on the right — it now has strangers living in it.  I thought of all the times I had sat at the table and had Skinny’s fried chicken, fried potato patties, and Brown Stone cake.  I thought of all the times, on Sunday afternoons, when we had all piled on Aunt Skinny’s bed to take naps.  I thought of seeing my 95-year-old Granny sit on the front porch, reading her Bible and singing hymns of praise.

I drove just a little down the road and came to Aunt Det’s house.  I turned into the driveway.  There aren’t any strangers there … the house is owned by Det’s daughter, my cousin, Rita June.  But no one was living there now.  I looked in the door at the side porch and saw the wood burning cook stove from the old home place.  I could almost smell the Dodger bread and taste the fried apple pies Granny use to make.  I walked around the house and snapped some pictures.  I thought of the times we cousins would play in the backyard, of the times Rita June would play the piano and we’d sing the old hymns.  I thought of the times Aunt Det would help me learn to crochet and make me wilted lettuce.

But neither Aunt Skinny or Aunt Det was there … I wasn’t home.

I drove on up the road and turned off the pavement to rough road (lane, really) that would lead me to the old farm.  I cried as I drove, flooded by so many wonderful, poignant memories.  The farm, house, out buildings are all gone now.  But parts of the stone fence remain.  However, I could picture where everything once stood.  I spotted the old, huge tree that the grandkids all climbed and played around.  I pictured the old porch swing and smell of the root cellar.  I saw and heard all the cats that use to run wild.  I thought of Granny in the kitchen cooking, Grandpa lying in his bed and “cousin” Dan skinning the rabbits and squirrels for family dinner.  I walked up the road a little further and saw the little family cemetery.  I took pictures of the homemade headstone for my great-great-grandparents, handprints of my Grandpa and great-Grandpa.  I looked out on the hills and fields I used to play and thought of so many adventures we cousins took, remembering the laughter, skinned knees, silly fights and love.

But the buildings were gone and no one came out to hug me … I wasn’t home.

As I was leaving Atkins, I swung by the cemetery where so many of my loved ones are buried:  Aunt Skinny and Uncle Woodrow, Aunt Det and Uncle Clyde, Grandpa and Granny, and … Momma.  I stood at Mom’s grave and told her I was so glad to have had her as my Mom.  I told her I loved and missed her.  There was a kind of peace when I stood there, but something was missing.  I looked at the headstone and saw my Dad’s name engraved, reminded that some day he’ll join her.  The freezing, pouring rain seemed to match my mood at the moment.

Yes … something was missing — Mom wasn’t really there to hold me and comfort me.  I wasn’t home.

I drove away.  I stopped to visit the house in which I lived for 18 years.  It was the only home I had as a child.  As I drove there, I was thinking of the huge backyard, the front porch where Mom and would sit on the stoop in the morning, the street where all the neighborhood kids would ride their bikes and play.  I thought of the laughter, joy and tears shed in that house … of the love that flowed in every nook and cranny.  But when I got there, I almost cried.  It just wasn’t the same — it looked old and run down.  It showed the passage of time.  I couldn’t just walk in the front door and come home …

Because it wasn’t home anymore.

I made one more stop on my journey … I went to visit the childhood church:  Anderson Church of God on Wagner Road, Virginia.  Other than the parking lot being bigger and a larger sign, the outside of the grounds and building looked so much like my memories.  I walked to the doors and — yes, they were all locked.  I so much wanted to go inside … I hadn’t been in that building for almost 20 years.  I snapped some pictures and had resigned myself to simply driving back to my Dad’s.  As I was unlocking my car, another car entered the parking lot.  It was the pastor.  I introduced myself, explained why I was there.  Pastor Gary smiled warmly and invited me the doors of the church.  He urged me to make myself at home and visit as long as I liked.

I walked all through the building.  To old classrooms — I saw my Dad leading the “Jet Cadets;” I saw my Mom doing flannel graph lessons; I saw Greta Easterling teaching Sunday School.  I remembered the sitting up and taking down the folding chairs in the fellowship hall.  I pictured the altars where, with my Mom, I knelt down and asked Jesus to be my Savior and Lord.

Then I wandered down to the newer addition — the new sanctuary.  I pictured LP Trivette leading worship and Jimmy playing the piano.  I found the pew dedicated to my Mom … the sanctuary she never lived to see.  On the other pews, I read names of the saints that used to attend — who are up in Heaven.  Pastor Gary joined me in the sanctuary and we started talking about folks who still attended.

And I cried … I was home.

It struck me that of all the places I had visited — each place where I had so many wonderful memories — each place where I knew was loved … those buildings were now locked to me and/or the people that filled them with love were gone.

But not the church.  Pastor Marlin welcomed me and so did Pastor Gary.  It just reminded me that’s the way it is with God, His love and mercy.  We are the ones who are guilty of leaving … He’s never left us.  His arms are always opened to receive us … always willing to forgive … always wanting to wrap us in His love.

When the journey gets long … when you think you’ve lost you’re way … when you feel tired and alone … remember, you can always go home — go home to Jesus.

Now, that’s a home-coming!

“Come unto me all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke and learn from Me for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls.”  (Matt. 11:28-29)

May everything we say and do be pleasing and acceptable in His sight.

While nothing major, a lot has happened during the last month — and the Father and I have had some very quiet, private chats.  Sometimes you just need to curl up in His arms and absorb.  I think that’s what I’ve been doing.  I didn’t receive any epiphanies or divine revelations.   No … just feelings, impressions and notions.

Just an assurance that God was there … watching … listening … caring … and loving.

And while everything single work and book of the Bible is a gift and important for the believer, I think that’s why I’m sometimes drawn to the Old Testament books on a more regular basis.

In the New Testament, we have the fulfillment of God’s promise and love … the birth, death and resurrection of His Son, Jesus.  We learn how the Apostles faced many challenges, walked and shared their faith and lived lives filled and directed by the Holy Spirit.  I have joy for today and tomorrow because I know — absolutely know — Who holds my future.  I know where I’ll spend my eternity.

Yes — I crave the words of the New Testament.  I also cling the words of the Old.

I heard some believers try to say that they don’t feel the Old Testament is as relevant today as it once was.  It’s almost as if they’re wondering if there’s anything that they can learn from words written so many years ago and it such a different culture and time period.

To which I respond … YES — you can!

Some of you may recall the old radio program with Paul Harvey where he would share the story or circumstance of a person.  He did it so well that you actually thought that you knew how the narrative was going to end.  Yet, at a certain time, Harvey would need to take a station break, have a commercial or two, and then come back on the air.  He would always start the same way … “And, for the rest of the story…..”

That’s how it’s for me with the Old Testament … but kinda in reverse.  Some believers spend a lot of time pouring over the words of the New Testament — the Gospels, Epistles, etc. — and we should.  We now know how the story is going to end.

However, knowing how the story ends becomes much sweeter and amazing when we consider the how it began … and the extreme love and mercy and grace that the Father showed us time after time after time!  The Old Testament really teaches us about unconditional love … which was fulfilled with the birth, death and resurrection of Christ.

While we may try, not many us have ever truly experienced unconditional love here on earth.  A love that loves — NO MATTER WHAT!  A love that has been betrayed, ignored, taken for granted, bartered, sold and “spit upon.”  And, yet, God never forsakes His children.  He may discipline; but He never forsakes.

The Old Testament is witness to that love … the love of a Father who — despite all evidence to the contrary — never gave up on the children of His heart.  Who was always there … watching … listening … caring … loving.

We can’t have “the rest of the story” without knowing how it began.  So, I invite you to continue our journey through the Old Testament as He speaks to me — and you — about His unconditional love and care for each us.

May everything we say and do be pleasing and acceptable in His sight.

I was recently playing with our newest family member, Lindie Rigs … or Lindie Lou, which ever you prefer.  Of course, it seems like we’re always playing!  This young Blue Heeler is full of energy.  She approaches each day with joy, happiness and excitement.  She wakes up early — like she just can’t wait to see what this new dawn will bring … what adventures are lying in store.  And, as a child of God, I should be approaching each day the same way.

However, that’s not the lesson, the truth, I want to talk about here … maybe we’ll save that one for another day.

No, the lesson I’m now referring to occurred when I was playing frisbee with Lindie.  I think we’re all pretty much familiar with the concept.  You throw the frisbee and the person — or dog, in this case, catches it.  Usually, the throwee would throw the frisbee back to the thrower, yet, while I think Lindie is exceptional, as a dog she’s not quite up to the “throwing back” part!  Instead, she’ll put the frisbee in her mouth and run — full-throttle — back to me, so that I can throw it again.

Nothing too complicated, right?

Well, because Lindie’s favorite game of all time is “tug of war,” when she brings the frisbee back, she doesn’t just drop it in your hands or at your feet.  No!  The round’s not over until you enter into a test of strength — and wills — in trying to wrestle away the frisbee.  Of course, when that happens, the frisbee ends up the worse for wear and just doesn’t fly as it should when thrown.  Of course, Lindie doesn’t much care.  As long as she can play “tug of war” and then go chase anything that’s thrown, she’s pretty happy.

Recently, while playing frisbee, I wondered how often I do the same thing with my concerns, my burdens, my worries and the Lord.  Oh, not that I’m equating praying like playing frisbee.  No.  But how often do I bring a request — a burden — to the Father … I pour my heart out … I ask Him to give me wisdom and strength and guidance … I ask Him to be in control … I laid that burden down on the altar … and, yet, I refuse to leave it there?  Do I ever enter into a “tug of war” with God when I bring Him my concerns?

How many times do I come to the throne of mercy, lifting my hands up high, with my burdens in their palms?  I say, “Lord, here … please, take this concern.  I can’t do this on my own.  I need Your help.”  I know that God heard me and said He would help me.  Yet, I won’t turn my palms over and let the burden drop to His feet.  Instead, I clutch it all the more tightly to my breast.  “You know … God might not completely understand my situation.  It’s great that I’ve made Him aware of it, but I’m sure He’s going to need me to micro-manage it.  Just to make sure He gets it done right.”

Laying our burdens down at the Master’s feet … and then walking away — empty-handed — is one of the hardest, and most trusting, things we can do.

My earthly father learned that lesson well — years ago.  My Mom had been struggling with cancer for years, coming in and out of remission.  I can’t even fathom at the number of prayers that were reaching Heaven on her behalf.  And, I know, absolutely, that God heard each one.  But I think the one He was waiting for was the one my Dad had to pray, the hardest prayer I think he ever had to bring before the Lord.  One night, after praying for Mom’s healing, faithfully believing in the power of God to heal, he finally said “Not my will, God … Yours be done.”  My Dad took the request for my Mom’s healing and, that night, totally, and completely, left it at the feet of Jesus.

And God decided to grant Mom the ultimate healing … He called her home.

I look back on that time and think of how many times we had prayed for healing.  And there were many instances in which our prayers were answered in miraculous ways.  However, we weren’t really praying for what was best for Mom or what God’s will was.  We were praying — or I was praying — to keep her here with me because I couldn’t bear to let her go.

I brought the burden to God … but refused to lay it at His feet and walk away … trusting that He would do what was best for all.

In His last few hours on earth, Jesus was brought to that same point … would He trust the Father to do the right thing?  As He brought His request to God, would Jesus trust Him enough to leave it at His feet?  Or … would He decide that God didn’t quite “get it” and that He, Jesus, would have to fore-go the cross in order to stay around and make sure that God got it right?  Recall Jesus’ prayer in the garden as He was thinking of His disciples:

“Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name — the name you gave me — so that they may be one as we are one….My prayer is not that you take them out of the world, but that you protect them from the evil one.” (John 17:11b; 15)

Jesus didn’t have to go to the cross … He could have decided that the group of followers he’d lived with for 3 years needed Him more … needed Him right then.  He had a choice to make … Would He trust God to do the right thing?  Would He lay His burden down at the Father’s feet … and leave it there?

We all know the answer … He did.  He trusted God with His request and Jesus went to the cross and defeated death, providing salvation and life for those would who believe.

When Lindie plays “tug of war” with her frisbee, when she refuses to place it my hands or lay it at my feet, it ends up really frustrating me!  I know that the quicker she gives it to me, the quicker I can honor her request to throw it … letting her soar high to catch it.  (Kinda like on “the wings of eagles.”)  Also, the more she pulls at the frisbee, trying to “tug it away,” the more that frisbee gets nicked and torn.  So that even when I can get it and throw it, it doesn’t quite fly the way it should.

When we refuse lay and leave our requests on the altar, how many blessings do we miss out on?  How many times do we frustrate or grieve the Father?  The question really becomes …

Will you trust God enough to answer the burdens that you bring before Him?

Ponder these words:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matt. 11:28-30)

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God; trust also in me.” (John 14:1)

God wants to meet our every need … trust Him to do just that.

May everything we say and do be pleasing and acceptable in His sight.

“But my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory through Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:19)

God made that promise very real to me almost 32 years ago — and has continually upheld that promise in the following years.

While I don’t remember the exact day, I remember the time very well.  It was in August and I was attending Virginia State Camp Meeting with my aunts — something I had done since I was a baby.  My Mom and sister always attended as well, except neither of them were there this time.  My sister was in Florida, getting ready for her new term at college to start, and my Mom ….  Well, Mom was in the hospital fighting another bout with breast cancer.

But I was at campmeeting with a somewhat heavy heart, as you can imagine.  Then that night the evangelist shared this verse.  Oh, I had read that verse before.  But that night, with a heart heavy with concern for my Mom, in a tabernacle with hundreds of other people, it was as if God was speaking only to me.  My Father was reminding me — and promising me — that although the apostle Paul had written these words centuries ago, they were still true for me.  This wasn’t Paul’s God, or my aunts’ God, or Joe’s God or Sue’s God.

This was my God … my God was promising to supply every need that I had — and would have — through His beloved Son, Jesus Christ.  I just needed — and need — to trust Him.  (My eyes still “tear up” now as I recall the truth that burst forth in my soul that night!)

My God … the God who “created the heavens and the earth” … the God who led spoke to Moses and David … the God who walked on water and defeated death and Satan.

My God.

Little did I realize that in only a month from that promise that the Lord would call my Mom home to heaven.  And I clung to that promise … and it sustained me.

In the 32 years since that time, the Good Lord has reminded me of His care, concern, and love for me … of the truth of that scripture … in so many ways.  When I went to college, when I entered the business world.  When I wondered if the Lord ever had a helpmeet out there for me.  When I got married.  When I was laid off 3 times and the bills kept piling up.  When loved ones struggled in this world and it seemed like Satan was winning.

But no matter what … I can call upon this scripture and cling to its truth:

“But [Judith's God] shall supply all [her] needs according to His riches in glory through Christ Jesus.”

I was reminded of this, once again, a few weeks ago.

We had taken the newest addition of our family, Lindi — a Blue Heeler — in to the Vet to get spaded.  In speaking with the Vet, we were trying to determine, based on her age, if she needed a certain vaccination.  See, we had adopted her from the Humane Society after she had been abandoned back in December of 2010.   The Vet took the information that the shelter had given us, looked at her teeth and size and concluded that she was probably born around January 1, 2010.

And I was stunned.

Why?  Because I was “slapped in the face” with the reminder that my Father was “supplying all my needs” even before I knew I had one.

Some of you may know that we lost our beloved 10 year Husky/ Australian Cattle Dog (Blue Heeler) mix this year — in fact, it was on New Year’s Day!  How’s that for God providing!!!  A year before we lost Maximus, our Heavenly Father was providing the very means — the birth of Lindi — to begin the healing process in our hearts.  And it didn’t matter to God that we would be grieving for a dog, an animal.  He only cared that we would be grieving.

So He provided. He supplied our need.

A few years ago, Max Lucado wrote  the book, The Great House of God, one of my favorites.  In it, he talks about some of the names of God to help us remember His character.  Ponder these words:

“When you are confused about the future, go to your Jehovah-raah, your caring Shepherd.  When you are anxious about provision, talk to Jehovah-jireh, the Lord who provides.  Are your challenges too great?  Seek the help of Jehovah-shalom, the Lord is peace.  Is your body sick?  Are your emotions week?  Jehovah-rophe, the Lord who heals you, will see you now.  Do you feel like a soldier stranded behind enemy lines?  Take refuge in Jehovah-nissi, the Lord my banner.”

Caring, providing, giving peace, healing, being a refuge.

Perhaps you need to be reminded this day that God is alive and real … and always there.  Not just for Paul or Peter or John … or even for Judith.  But for you.  Trust Him and He’ll supply every need you have … even the ones you aren’t aware of.

May everything we say and do be pleasing and acceptable in His sight.

But it wasn’t the actual wood and cloth altar that made those moments sacred.  No — it was who I met … who I encountered … while kneeling.  I had an encounter with the Living God.

Altars were also important in Old Testament times.  However, they were very different than the polished and sleek altars we see in our churches today.  In the Old Testament, altars were really milestones … markers …. a physical symbol or representation of a special encounter with God.  Individuals built altars as signs of remembrances.  The altars weren’t there before they encountered God … they were built after that sacred encounter.  The altars were built to remind the person — and those who would follow after him — that someone had met with the Lord and why.

Those altars don’t resemble the altars the altars of our churches today.  They didn’t have the uniform structure and sleek lines of today.  They didn’t have cushioned knee pads or a comfortable place to rest your arms while praying.  And there certainly wasn’t a stashed box of tissues to grab when the tears started flowing!  No — most of the altars back then were outside, made of nature … usually of rocks, crudely, but carefully placed.  Markers of a special and sacred moment.

After the Tabernacle of the Exodus and Temple built by Solomon, altars seemed to have changed somewhat.  The priests now had specific duties to perform at the altars:  burnt offerings, sin offerings, thanksgiving offerings, praise offerings, etc.   These offerings, made at the altars, had to be completed by a priest on behalf of the people.  Think about that for a moment.  Before Jesus, a third person — a priest — had to make an offering, an appeasement, to God for the sins of the people.  The priest and the people came to the altar — a place to remember the Lord’s love and forgiveness — to experience His grace and mercy.  Every time they came to participate in that holy act, they should have remembered.

But they didn’t.

Soon it just become common place … ordinary.  In the words of Hosea, chapter 8, verse 11:

“Though Ephraim built many altars for sin offerings, these have become altars for sinning.”

How sad … and scary.  Something so sacred was now used for sinning.

This portion of scripture doesn’t exactly say “how” the priests started sinning, only that they did.  Maybe they sinned by not making the proper type of offering.  Maybe the priests started making a profit by charging the people to perform this duty.  Or….maybe their attitudes — their hearts — turned cold and hard, or worse yet, they felt nothing when standing before the altar.  Maybe the priests had grown so comfortable with the process, the duty of making sin offerings, that it had become commonplace … something ordinary.

Perhaps they had a lost the wonder and awe of coming to a place to meet with God.

And, then I have to ask myself … Do I ever do that?  Perhaps this verse has a warning for me today.

You know, there’s a difference between believing and trusting in God to be there, to supply your needs, to listen to and comfort you and simply taking Him for granted.

Altars were built, as mentioned, as remembrances — someone had encountered the Living God.  That experience should be re-told and re-told.  It was a special, glorious, awesome and sacred event .  Anything but ordinary.

However, you and I have an opportunity to encounter the Living Lord in much deeper way than those of the Old Testament.  We can experience a God who loved us so much “that He sent His one and only Son” to die for us that we might be forgiven and have eternal life.  We don’t have to go to someone else, to a third person, and rely on him to make an offering on our behalf.  No — we can go directly to the One who forgives, offers grace and mercy … the One who loves.

We can go to Jesus.

Today is Good Friday — the day in which the Son willing gave up His life for mine.  The day the Father declared He loved me so much that He gave His Son’s life for mine.  The day the Lord said He didn’t want me just for a lifetime, but for eternity … and gladly paid the price.  The day I was lovingly and graciously offered the choice of adoption into God’s family.  The day my sins, placed on the altar, were forgiven and cleansed by the Blood of the Lamb.  The day I was reborn.

We celebrate Christmas, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter once a year.  But these are all milestones … markers … remembrances … of God’s love and commitment to us.  May I never get caught up in the commercialism that surrounds these sacred events.  May I never take then for granted.  I pray that I’m always filled with wonder and awe in the Father’s love for me.

And I pray that I don’t fail to make my own altars.  That I can create my own markers of remembrance because I’m encountering the Living God.  Every day I’m presented with opportunities to acknowledge His care and concern … these are markers.  These are sacred.  These are remembrances of His grace and mercy.

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand.  And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.  Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.  You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.  Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die.  But God demonstrates His own love for us in this:  While we were still sinners, Christ died for us….We were therefore baptized with Him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may have a new life….The death He died, He died to sin once for all; but the life He lives, He lives to God….For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but grace.”  (Romans 5:1-8; 6:4, 10, 14)

May everything we say and do be pleasing and acceptable in His sight.

In reading about Israel’s sin, God’s judgment and the consequences of that sin, there were some verses that really seemed to speaking to me … that struck a chord.  I’ve learned by now, when that happens, pay attention … there’s a lesson waiting for me.  The first verse that hit me was this one …

“The more the priests increased, the more they sinned against me; they exchanged their Glory for something disgraceful.” (Hosea 4:7)

I read this verse and my heart breaks.

Think about it … the priests — the teachers of God’s Word.  They had been called into service by God.  As they answered the call and served, the people relied on them for the truth … relied on them to reveal and represent God in a very real way.  To be the example of God’s law, teaching, mercy and love.  But as the people turned to the priests more and more, these chosen by God, started taking their eyes off their holy calling … they stopped focusing on how and why they should serve.  They started focusing more how the people should serve them.  They started asking themselves “what do all these people really owe us?  Let’s face it, we work for the Lord — we’re on His mission.  Don’t we deserve a something extra?  Aren’t we just a little bit better than everyone else?”

So what did the priests do?  They “exchanged their Glory for something disgraceful.”  They exchanged God, that which is eternal, for something of the world, that which is temporary and man-made.  Something that won’t last.

They turned their back on their calling.

You know, it would be way too easy when reading these words to think that this is simply a message — a warning — to persons in a pastoral-type of capacity.  A warning that they shouldn’t get so “full of themselves” and what they’re doing that they forget why they’re doing the work and for Who they work.  Yeah … that’s too easy — and guilt-free — to think this only applies to pastors. 

I think this is a warning to all followers of Christ.

The church I attend and participate in is going through some major changes … we’re evolving more and more into the body that Christ has called us to be.  To help us through these changes — to understand them better — those of us on the Spiritual Life Team were asked to read a couple of books:  Organic Church by Neil Cole and Reimagining Church by Frank Viola.  Now, while I don’t necessarily agree with everything the authors have written — their stance or interpretation — these books are very good reads and very thought-provoking.  I would highly recommend them to anyone — or church organization — seeking to be a reflection of Christ in the world today … seeking to be His Bride.

However, one idea that struck me in particular was that we — followers of Christ — are all “called.” 

Now, I’ve always believed that … but the author went on to say that a person who has been called into full-time ministry — given the job of “pastor” is no more spiritual, noble or called than any other follower of Christ — that includes you and me.  I remember as a young person attending church, church camps, and/or camp meetings, that we always seemed to make a “big deal” when one of our youth said they “felt called into the ministry.”  Whenever a pastor is new to a church, many times s/he is asked to share about their calling.

But aren’t we all called?

Whether you serve as a pastor, a doctor, a student, a babysitter, an engineer, an advocate, a salesperson, a cook, a secretary, a city worker, a housewife, a teacher, a construction worker, a writer — or whatever your profession or job — we’re all called by God.  Our ministries may be different, but the message is should always remain the same:  Jesus Christ, God’s love and mercy, salvation for all who believe, and a Hope which is eternal.

So this is a warning for us all … not to exchange our Glory — our calling — for anything this world has to offer.

If you believe that God is in charge, still on His throne and in control, then you must also believe that He has placed you where He wants you to be.  He’s bringing people into your life for a reason.  As we do His Will … do the work He’s has called us to do, He will bless.  Those blessings will be different and varied for each of us.  Sometimes the blessing will be monetarily, sometimes they may be words of praise, sometimes feelings of gratitude.  Many times the blessings are simply the knowing that we’ve done what the Father has asked of us and we’ve made Him smile.  (To me, there’s no greater blessing than thinking of something that I’ve done that causes my Father to smile.)

But as those blessing increase — as we start seeing the fruit of our labors — there is always the danger to start thinking like a little child … “See, I did it!  Look at me!  I did it all by myself!”  The more we think this way, the more we exchange our Glory for something disgraceful. 

God wants to bless us in ways we haven’t even dreamed of … but we should never, NEVER become so focused on the idea of the blessing that we lose our focus on Him who we serve.  If we never received another blessing, we should still serve with joy.  There is nothing in this world that could ever compare to Him and His Glory.

I turned to my Bible for a verse / thought to wrap up this posting … this is where the Lord led me:

“If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from His love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose.  Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.  Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.  Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus…” (Phil. 2:1-5)

And what was the attitude of Christ? … do be about His Father’s business.  To do the work to which He was called.  To forgive … to love — really, truly, deeply, freely love.  (Yes, even our “Gomers.”)

May everything we say and do be pleasing and acceptable in His sight.

You know, many times I’ve heard the letters of John (1, 2, 3 John) referenced to really reveal the depth of our Lord’s love for us.  The 13th chapter of 1 Corinthians is usually referred to as the “love chapter.”  However, when considering God’s love toward us, we shouldn’t forget about the book of Hosea.  In reading Hosea, I’m struck, once again, that God loves us so much — even when He knows we have been unfaithful.  He still wants us and has faith in us.  He believes in you … and me.

Yes, I’m astounded by the Lord’s love – a love that knows no bounds; a love that sees us for who we are and stilly deeply, faithfully, loves.

With that being said, let me share how my day started.  First, it came way too early.  I didn’t sleep all that well … kept waking up.  Even though it was my husband who had to be up at 5:30am, guess who was the first one up?  Yep … me!  (Of course, the alarm is on my side of the bed — so that might something to do with it.)  But, I had to get up to let the dogs out and get the coffee brewing.

So my husband, who has never been what you would call a morning person, “grumblely” started drinking the coffee I had brought him and getting ready for work.  I fed the cats, made his lunch and… refilled his coffee cup.

Then he left … and I started fuming.

Oh, I can’t say he did anything major … he had just made some off-hand comments and after he left, well, I did what so many of us do.  Instead of letting the comments just roll off my back, I started to linger on them … and linger on them … and, yes, linger on them!  And, like I said, I started fuming.  I would think about a comment he’d said, then I would add my retort and keep refining it — even though he wasn’t there to hear it!  (Surely, I’m not the only person who has ever done this.)  Anyway, by the time I was done, I was feeling under-appreciated, taken for granted and not very loved or cherished.  (Mind you, my husband didn’t say any of that … that’s simply what I made it out to be.)

And right when I was getting “a head full of steam” on — thinking how unfairly I was being treated by my husband — WHAM!  The Lord reminded me of what I had read just that morning in Hosea.

Hosea, one of the minor prophets, isn’t  a very long book — only 14 chapters.  But, as I said earlier, a perfect and poignant illustration of God’s love for us.

God instructed Hosea to marry a prostitute — Gomer.  This wasn’t just to give her a good, safe home … it wasn’t simply to get her off the streets and out of the trade.  It wasn’t simply to make her into a respectful woman with better prospects.  No — the Lord told Hosea to marry Gomer and love her.  To really, really love her.  Not to look down her; not to treat her with disrespect; not hold her past against her; not to act “holier than thou;” not to think of himself as better than her.  Just to love her.  Hosea knew that his wife had been with other men — before and after him.  But he was to love her … to cherish her … to teach and instruct her … to hold her close.

Knowing everything he did about his wife, all her faults, he was to love her.

Why would God have Hosea do such a thing?

Because that so perfectly described the children of Israel’s relationship with the Lord … and the depth of His love. Time and time again, the Israelites had turned their backs on God, on the promises and vows they made to Him — to serve Him, to be faithful, to worship, to “have no other gods.”  And time and time again, they had broken every one of those commitments.  When things got too hard … when it didn’t turn out just as they had thought it should … when other “gods” promised an easier life, more successes and riches and the people could simply “do it their way” … well, the Israelites had a habit of forgetting the promises they had made and going with whatever made them feel good at the moment.

And God still loved.  Yes, He got frustrated with them; He got exasperated with them; He was hurt and felt betrayed.  But He still loved … deeply and faithfully.  He never forgot His vows or His promises.   And God just didn’t love, He forgave.  Read and meditate on this:

“Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her.  There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope.  There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.  ‘In that day,’ declares the Lord, ‘you will call me ‘my husband;’ you will no longer call me ‘my master.’”  (Hosea 2:14 – 16)

I’m amazed by these verses.  Not only will the Lord continue to love His wayward “wife,” He longs to give her — us — things she had lost … longs to make her happy.  Even after all that she has done, God doesn’t want her to come back Him with the attitude of a slave or servant … God wants a partner — a helpmeet; a wife.

Now that’s love … a love that’s not blind, but chooses not to dwell on past mistakes.  Love  that is selfless — wanting what will make the other happy … that looks toward the future.

Haven’t we all been like Gomer?  Making commitments to be faithful to our Lord and then letting others “steal” us away.  When we should have put Him first, we put up Asherah poles and let our focus — our worship — be on the things that made us feel good at the moment.  When the road got bumpy, we sought for a seemingly smoother path.  We knew we had a Lord “out there,” but we chose to “do our own thing.”  We took our eyes, our focus, off of the One who loves unconditionally for a temporary, false, and empty feeling … for a lie.

But our God still loves us.  Yes, He may get frustrated with us.  He may get exasperated with us.  We may hurt and betray Him.  But He never forgets His love toward us.  God loves me so much; He desires my happiness.  He doesn’t dwell on my past failures or mistakes … He always shows me a door of hope.  He wants me to join Him in His service … to be a helpmeet.  Even though He is my Lord, He doesn’t want to “lord it” over me.

Yes, in the past, I may have been a Gomer … but by His grace, I don’t have to stay that way.  I have the Lord to guide me out of Achor and to hope.  I have His unconditional, eternally promised love.

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  (Romans :18 – 19)

 Will there still be times I fume, get exasperated and frustrated by my husband?  Oh, yeah!  And I know he’ll feel the same toward me.  However, with Spirit’s prompting, I’m sure I’ll think of Hosea and Gomer … God and me.  I’m sure to think of what love is all about — kinda puts it back into perspective.

“Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes God….This is how God showed His love among us:  He sent His one and only Son into the world that we might live through Him.  This is love:  not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins….We love because He first loved us.” (1John 4:7a, 9-10,19)

“Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.” (1John 3:1)

 May everything we say and do be pleasing and acceptable in His sight.

Well…it wasn’t.

Each picture story consisted of two pages of a particular theme, i.e., medieval castle and knights, modern city and traffic, crowded zoo, construction site, etc.  The pictures were busy, the characters were doing unusual things … and somehow, it was easy to lose sight of Waldo in the midst of all the chaos.  Yet, whenever you did locate him, he always looked the same — regardless of the picture theme, you could always count on Waldo to be Waldo.

And this all brings me to the book of Daniel — specifically to chapter 3 … you know, the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego and the fiery furnace.  This chapter tells the story of a time when a terrible law has been passed, Daniel’s close friends are in mortal danger and then divinely rescued, yet neither his name or Daniel himself is any where to be found.  Daniel doesn’t even rate a footnote in the story.  Why can’t we find him?  Why isn’t he mentioned?

I mean, honestly, don’t you find it strange that the jealous officials in King Nebuchadnezzar’s court decided to go after Daniel’s friends instead of going after Daniel himself?  And, why … why didn’t Daniel at least attempt to come to the rescue of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego before they were thrown into the furnace?  Why doesn’t the Bible mention that Daniel was on his knees praying for their deliverance when they were thrown in the furnace?  Why wasn’t he pacing with the king, waiting to see if they would be protected and delivered by the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob?

In the midst of all this chaos, where in the world is Daniel?

And then I recall the words of Paul to young Timothy:  “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” (2 Tim. 3:16 -17)

Just as we can learn so much about living out our faith in the midst of trials and temptations — our own fiery furnaces — from those who are mentioned, we can learn about faith, gifts and purpose by noting who’s NOT mentioned — Daniel.  Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were given a specific task, or purpose:  to serve as administrators over the province  of Babylon.  Daniel’s task was to serve in the royal court.  They each had their own calling … but were still to remain faithful and committed to serving the Lord.  And, that commitment couldn’t rely on someone else being around or not being around.  Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego had to be able to stand up for their faith on their own; they couldn’t wait for Daniel to do it for them.  They couldn’t be strong and faithful only when Daniel was around; they had to “choose this day who they would serve.”

You know, it’s a lot easier to serve and be faithful when you’re following your leader, when s/he is right there in your presence.  It’s easy to follow God and stand firm when you’re in church on Sunday morning / night.  It’s easy to be His shining example when attending a convention or workshop surround by hundreds of other believers.  It’s easy to stand up to the bully when you’re surrounded by your friends, people you know “have your back.”

But what happens when you’re on your own?  When the singing stops and you leave the church building?  When you have to leave the camaraderie of the convention / workshop and go back into the “real” world?  What do you do when it seems as if you’re surrounded by bullies from all sides and you’re about 15 seconds from being thrown into a “fiery furnace” of your own?  If you stand around waiting for your “Waldo” to show up, how are you going to grow?  Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were being called to live out their faith.  They couldn’t wait or rely on Daniel to do it for them.  They had to do it …. and so do we.

Whether in our churches, at the workplace, in school, or in our own families, God has given each us of a calling, a purpose, a ministry — gifts and talents He wants us to use for His Glory and the furtherance of His kingdom.  We are all called and we are all sent to go and make disciples.  We’re not to simply step aside and let someone else — our leader — “go and make.”  We’re called to do it.  And, if we spend all our time waiting / looking for “Waldo” (or Daniel), we won’t be fulfilling our calling, whatever that calling happens to be.  (Remember, it doesn’t matter what the calling is — only if you answer it.  Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were called to be government officials — council members of a province in Babylon…nothing very glamorous.  But they answered the call to serve and they did so faithfully.)

Not to give too much away, I’m reminded of the opening story in Max Lucado’s latest book, Out Live Your Life. Max tells the story of group of explorers seeking to meet a Father Benjamin, the person who is credited with the success of a certain village.  The explorers are shown all over the village, all areas in which they are thriving and growing … every where success is flourishing.  But no Father Benjamin.  Finally, they learn that Father Benjamin is no longer with the villagers …  at least not physically.  But it’s because of his teaching, his example, that the village is thriving.  Father Benjamin’s presence permeates and radiates throughout the village and within each villager.

Daniel didn’t need to be present for Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego to remain strong and be committed to serving God.  They had their own personal relationship with Him … they were clear on their purpose and direction.  If we put our trust, our confidence in anything or anyone other than our Lord and Savior, we’re standing on pretty shaky ground.  If we’re allowing God to be a part of our lives, in His word, seeking His guidance and learning from Him daily, we won’t have to be searching for our own Daniel — or Waldo!  We’ll know that our Savior is right by our side … and so will others.  Just like Father Benjamin, others will see the Redeemer based on our everyday actions and attitude.

So…where in the world is Daniel?  That really doesn’t matter.  The question is Where in the world is God? The answer is, hopefully, right here … in everything that I do and say.

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in Heaven.” (Matt. 5:16)

May everything we say and do be pleasing and acceptable in His sight.

Like many of you, I’ve often heard the 11th chapter of Hebrews referred to as the Faith Hall of Fame.  Just like the Football, Softball, Wrestling, and Rock & Roll Halls of Fame, Hebrews 11 is a brief — but intense — list of some of those who have kept the faith when all they had was God’s Promise of a Savior.  The list includes the likes of Abraham, Noah, Moses, Rahab and a few others.  As the writer of Hebrews is explaining that he doesn’t have the time to list everyone who’s kept the faith, without mentioning specific names, he writes this:

“…who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, quenched the fury of the flames and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies.” (Heb. 11:33-34)

Although in my personal devotions I’m reading the book of Daniel, I’m pretty confident that most of us know the trio who’s being referenced as “[quenching] the fury of the flames” … Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.  But as I read of that actual account in Daniel 3, the trio’s greatest example of faith didn’t come when were thrown into the fiery furnace and were walking among the flames.  No…it came earlier.

When king Nebuchadnezzar discovered that these three weren’t bowing down and worshiping the golden image, he gave them a chance to see the error of their ways — he was all but begging them to say they just didn’t understand the edict.  The king had a history with these three and didn’t, initially, want to throw them in the furnace.  But listen to what they said:

“If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and He will rescue us from your hand, O king.  But even if He does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” (Dan. 3: 17-18)

You know, that’s the thing about us reading the Bible today — we know how all those Bible stories end.  We have the advantage over those who were actually living out the stories.  But those faithful mentioned in Hebrews didn’t.  In fact, concerning this trio of young Jewish believers, considered what they had witnessed first-hand:  the attack and fall of Jerusalem — God’s city AND the sacking, looting and destruction of the Temple — God’s dwelling here on earth.  If anyone had cause to wonder or question if God was in charge, in control … that He could, in fact, rescue, it was these three.   I mean, if God would allow His holy city and dwelling place to be destroyed, why would He care about saving three Jewish boys?  However, in spite of all the destruction they had witness, they knew with 100% confidence that God was on His throne and that if it was His Will, He could and would save them.  Now that’s faith!

You and I, we have the “rest of the story” — more than just how God took care of this trio.  We have all the examples of faith listed in Hebrews and the rest of the entire Bible.  And yet … we still sometimes wonder and question.  We have a Savior we can walk with and talk with each and every day.  We have a Shepherd who cares for and provides for us.  We have the Great Physician who heals our hurts, both physically and emotionally.  We have a Rock to cling to when the waves of torment and chaos come crashing in on us.  We have a Banner to fly and be a guide in the war of this world.  We have a Friend who is closer than a brother … who sees all our weaknesses and shortcomings and still loves us.  We have witnessed and experienced first-hand the Grace and Mercy He gives.  And yet … when those “fiery darts” are thrown our way, it’s amazing how shaky our faith can get — how we experience short-term memory loss!

I don’t want to be that way!  I crave a faith that lives without knowing the rest of the story.  A faith so strong that regardless of the sorrow and disappointments and failures that we may experience readily acknowledges that no matter what — NO MATTER WHAT! … God is on His throne and is in charge!  Whatever happens is for my good and His glory!

Scott Krippayne and Scott Davis wrote a song a few years ago entitled, Bible-Story.  The chorus goes like this:

“Stand up!  Stand up!  You don’t have to be afraid; He will give you courage – He will give you strength.  Put your faith in God, and I promise if you do, He will make a Bible-story out of you!”

I want to be a Bible-story … and pray that you do, too!

May everything we say and do be pleasing and acceptable in His sight.