To Know the Love of Christ

Rescue This account in Mark 5:1-20 always moves me. Jesus heals a man possessed by many demons. The whole town is afraid when they see him in his right mind, and they beg Jesus to leave. As he leaves, the man begs to go with Him. And that’s where I fall apart. Can you imagine spending years being ravaged by demons, and then being rescued? He wanted to cling to His rescuer. To spend more time with Him.  This is us. We’ve been rescued. We want to be with our rescuer. And we will. But first, we have a job to do. “And he did not permit him but said to him, ‘Go home to your friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.’ And he went away and began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him, and everyone marveled.”  We’ve been rescued. We know our citizenship is in heaven. This is not our country. We are not home yet. There are days, months, years when we feel that longing more deeply than ever. To be with ou...

Part 2 As I sat there, I thought of those who carry burdens greater than my own. What about circumstances that cannot be lightened in the least by a day at the ocean? What about when the trial seems to last forever? When the temporary catharsis of pent up tears is so short-lived that it feels pointless? The waves keep coming, crashing in stronger, heavier, darker than before. Indescribable grief remains. Oppressive, breath-sucking, energy-snatching, hunger-squelching, joy-stealing grief. Physical and emotional pain that is relentless. Searing loss. The weight of a burden that has been and still is far too great to bear. What then? Still, creation speaks. Still, His faithfulness remains. Even when there is no relief from our circumstances, like the relief that washed over me today as I finally was able to sit on a blanket in the sand, pen in hand, scribbling away my praise to the One Who is worthy, surrounded by the reassuring sounds of the sea, the afternoon sun burning the sand f...

I stood in the ocean today, surrounded by God’s magnificent watery created splendor, whispers of His invisible attributes splashing around me in the waves, and the joy and gratitude floated up and out of me in the words of a favorite hymn. O love of God, so rich and pure! So measureless and strong! It shall forevermore endure, The saints’ and angels’ song. The waves pushed and pulled past me toward the shore, tumbling over and under each other, folding themselves perfectly into His symphony, of which I stood witnessing only the tiniest corner, when you consider the breadth of the ocean and the continents between and the miles and miles of shoreline on this planet. There I was, occupying a little tiny speck of His vast creation, where my feet were planted on that one square foot of underwater sand in Ponce Inlet by Orange City, Florida, not far from Daytona. I couldn’t have stopped that old hymn from pouring out if I’d tried. It came as my heart’s simple cry of th...

Today, I’m choosing to believe the best. Give the benefit of the doubt. Not assume. And, yes, especially to “be kind, tenderhearted, forgiving, even as God, for Christ’s sake, forgave me.” The noise all around us is deafening. In the midst of it all, what would happen if we chose over and over again, every moment, to love each other well and believe the best? Whether the other person thinks the way you think or lands on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, whether they act and react and conclude what you’ve concluded or not? Whether they make the same or the exact opposite choice? What if we took no offense? At all? What if we assumed they landed there based on careful and intelligent research instead of through ignorance or a failure, inability, or obstinate choice not to think it through? What if we swallowed our own pride and stopped assuming we’re right? What if we actually stopped accusing one another of selfishness, fear, ignorance, and scolding, and instead embr...

Never alone Never forsaken Praising His name We can never be shaken There was so much encouragement this week and so much extra grace. And I needed it badly. Over and over.  Rereading a chapter in one of my favorite books, Sally Clarkson’s  The Lifegiving Home , about how Jesus loved and served and encouraged His disciples in the upper room and spoke such loving words, challenging me to love and serve my family with true humility, just as He washed their feet and poured courage into their souls. (I may have accepted the challenge and taken it out on the shower, which was extra sparkly for my weary husband when he returned home from work on this crazy Saturday afternoon before Easter.) But seriously. Rereading this as we are all remaining in our homes week after week was such a timely reminder for me, and the words truly renewed my focus on this front, reminding me of my great privilege to love as He loved and serve as He served. I can, because He did. There it...