Author: Heather Davis

Eagles’ Wings

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:30-31

I no longer believe in coincidences.

Now I’m not superstitious and while I may be simple-minded (the jury’s still out on that one), all I know is that the longer I have walked with God, the more I see His hand in all of the seemingly coincidental occurrences in my life. People that come to mind randomly or in a dream turn out to be promptings to pray or meet a practical need. Scriptures that seem to recur randomly in daily readings, kids’ school lessons, and on signs in a store I am shopping at are often personal reminders of some sin that needs to be addressed or some encouragement to persevere through something tricky. There are dozens of examples, but I want to share one very personal one with you today. It concerns bald eagles and today’s Scripture passage.

Let me explain. . .  I spent my childhood hoping to see a bald eagle in “real life,” a childhood term roughly translated as “not in a zoo nor in a photo, but flying wild and fierce and free.” My daddy had seen one when he was small, and so I kept a frequent check on the skies hoping that I would be so lucky.

Decades later, I still harbored that secret hope but of course duty and responsibility ate up many of my sky-watching hours.  In late 2011 during a protracted time of physical pain and spiritual darkness, the Lord impressed Isaiah 40:31 on my heart. Just a few months later in February 2012, I also had a chance to visit Reelfoot Lake with some friends and attend one of the state park’s eagle tours where a park ranger takes a group to various known bald eagle nesting sites. Finally, I was able to see a wild eagle! I treasure that memory as a tangible reminder of the admonishment given me by my God to wait on Him through my trial.

Fast-forward to this year. God had done an amazing work of renewal in my heart. All the years of difficulty and darkness had been a time of refinement, bringing the impurities in my heart to the surface so they could be skimmed and removed just as metals are melted to skim the dross. By summer of this year, I had begun a process of repentance for many “hidden” sins and was beginning to feel my spiritual strength returning.  Just down the street from my sister-in-law was… guess what? Yes, a bald eagle’s nest! We were able to walk right beneath the nest, see a young bird peering out of it, and watch one of the mighty parents circle over our heads.EagleBlog10

Now the year is drawing to a close. I have experienced what I can only describe as a personal revival. I have been granted a season of experiencing deep gratitude and intense joy for my salvation and love for my King. But last Friday, I became anxious once again, certain that I  was missing the mark both as a parent and as a teacher. I was convinced that I had not the ability nor strength to do this job, that I was failing miserably. Overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted from trying to shepherd my children’s emotions, I hit my knees that night before bed and cried out to God for help and wisdom.

Saturday morning as I drove into town, I saw a bald eagle. He was just sitting there in a tree not 5 miles from my house. God was reminding me again to wait on Him, reminding me that He is my strength. And as the eagle soared away, I felt my heart once again mount up alongside him.

Eagle08

Has God given you any special reminders or tokens of His grace that mean nothing to anyone but you? I would love to hear about them!

The Changeless Word

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

 As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.
1 Corinthians 13:8-10

Today, I am thankful for the Word of God–both the living Word that is alive and active and sharper than any two-edged sword as well as the Word who was with God in the beginning; the Word who came to pay the redemption fee for my bond. I am thankful that, despite widespread criticism and unbelief, this Word that proclaims His astonishing and sacrificial love remains untarnished and undiminished though all human wisdom will wax and wane and eventually pass away.

Trends come and go as swiftly as a leaf born upon a flood-swollen river, people rise into prominence only to decline and be forgotten within a brief span of years, world power shifts and geographical boundaries fluctuate. Today’s latest gadget occupies an ignoble spot in tomorrow’s trash heap. Physical and emotional pain both surge and diminish. Scientific discoveries are lauded with great pride this month and then discredited in the next as new discoveries are made. The wisdom of man, always so promising, always so apparently wonderful in its day, is only waiting to become the butt of tomorrow’s joke, held up in disdain by the people of tomorrow as evidence of the foolishness of our past.

Through it all, the true wisdom of the Eternal is not dimmed either by time nor by the fickleness of human understanding.  The message of the cross may appear to be foolishness to some, but to those of us who are being saved, it is joy inexpressible and irrefutable evidence of the redeeming, powerful, saving love of our God and King. The more I read and understand how complex and deep is the wisdom of God found in the Bible, the more I am in awe that such an intricate and involved plan spanning the entire age of man has such an incredibly simple overarching theme.  The more I learn and delve into the depths of this ancient and ageless Truth, the more I am humbled by my own folly and the inexpressible silliness of my nature.

I am thankful that, in a world of constantly shifting virtues and mores, God has left His changeless Word to act as a plumb line for those who, with humble and contrite hearts, are wiling to test themselves against it. I am grateful that He has opened my once hardened and embittered heart to the very Word of life and light and love. I cannot express the thanks I have that His Word continues to breathe new life into a heart so careless, so reckless, so addicted to sin, and so prone to wander as mine.  And I am thankful that I have free access to this Word anytime I wish… so thankful that I find myself drawn to read it and cherish it more and more.

It is my sincere prayer that all of us who follow the teachings of the Lord would treasure His word, storing it up in our hearts, loving to read it again and again, and being changed more and more into His likeness. I echo Paul’s prayer, “For this reason I bow my knees before the Father… that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith–that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
(Ephesians 3:14-19)”

Amen.

In Appreciation of Pain, Part Three

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
Romans 5:2-5

(Earlier, I wrote about two other lessons I learned that make me thankful for the decade I spent struggling through chronic migraine. If you would like to read them, you can find them here and here.)

The third,  but perhaps the most purely delightful, lesson I took away from those years of suffering was in learning to praise my God even when shrouded in pain. While those words are easy to write now, it is critical to note that my gratitude for the suffering did not begin after I  had exited the dark valley of daily pain– I began to express thanksgiving and praise aloud to God even while striving to function through the throes of migraines.

Those years were truly dark ones in all senses of the word, some points of which I have already outlined in my previous posts. Implacable pain was only one of the reasons for the gloom, but it was a pushy, domineering one. I could not escape the grip of pain for long. Medications would work for a few weeks, but they had their own side effects besides losing efficacy over fairly short periods of time.  I began to dread waking, knowing that all that waited for me was an awareness of pain.  My mind also seemed to be failing as I struggled to recall familiar words like “toaster” and “laundry” or my children’s names. I was perpetually, relentlessly tired, almost a zombie trudging mindlessly through each day. Because of the intensity and long-term quality of the affliction, I found myself frequently succumbing depression.

I remember clearly the first time when, in the clutches of a migraine so fierce that I dared not twitch a finger for fear of the repercussions, I was compelled to whisper oh, so quietly my adoration of God and praise that He was allowing me to be broken and reshaped by such pain, allowing me to participate in some minute way in the sufferings of my Lord Yeshua. It was the first toddling steps of a shaky practice that I began to form, a routine of murmuring blessing or praise even. or rather, especially in the depth of affliction or when despair constricted and stifled my heart. It was some time and many stops and starts before the practice began to be a habit.  It is still not a solid habit, I am sorry to say, but I now remember more often than I forget.

Slowly, strangely, the leaden fog of despair was rent and began to dissipate as surely as mist in the sun.  I began to understand the truth behind yet another quote from Nancy Leigh DeMoss: “True joy is not the absence of pain but the sanctifying, sustaining presence of the Lord Jesus in the midst of the pain.” I understood because I had begun to learn to recognize His Presence always, even when veiled by my own pain.

Through this moment and countless others like it, I learned to acknowledge the glory and worthiness of my King despite what I may be feeling. Though my body was wracked with exhaustion and tormented by ruthless headaches, I learned to be thankful that He was greater than my pain.

What’s more, I learned that He is worth praising no matter what my circumstances are. Even the worst of my pain can never amount to the humiliation and rejection my Lord experienced when He literally became sin on that cross as ransom for billions of undeserving, debauched human lives like my own. Even the temptation to despair can be overcome when I focus less on myself and more on the majesty and undeserved compassion of my Lord and my God.

So all in all, I am thankful for the trials God has sent my way. I am thankful for pain so persistent and intense that I was forced to the end of myself… and most gloriously of all, I am thankful that I found Him waiting for me there.

It is my sincere prayer that you will know that He is there with you in your dark valleys as well, and knowing that, you will unabashedly sing His praises into the cold and uncaring darkness. Hang in there, my dear, no matter how long it takes. He is there, even when you do not see Him. And His grace truly is sufficient for whatever trial you face.

In Appreciation of Pain, Part Two

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

 For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.
Hebrews 12:11

(If you missed the first installment of why I am thankful for a prolonged season of pain and want to check it out, you can find it here.) 

Some of the spiritual gleanings of the years I spent living with chronic migraine cannot be expressed in clunky words. They are, for now, just impressions of intense joy or closeness with my God. Other lessons are permanently etched into my consciousness, as palpable as scars from a wound. They act as a brand of sorts, reminding me to Whom I belong and are entirely caused by my opposition to His firm leading.  Many of these scars are remnants of the chastening I received during those years, reminders to me now of the plentiful grace God was eager to give when I humbled myself… and of the ridiculous wilfulness I demonstrated, digging in my heels against His attempts to lead me to still waters and green pastures.

This second lesson is the one for which I am most exquisitely grateful but is also the most difficult to share. However, I want to share it with you; this bit of  instruction more painful even than the migraines themselves, poignant and personal, so that if you, my beloved, go through a season of crushing, you can be reminded that all the trials God allows to afflict us are for our eternal good–shaping us, preparing us for an eternal expanse of joy beyond compare.

During those dark years, I went through Nancy Leigh DeMoss’s study for women entitled Lies Women Believe and was confronted with a truth, roughly summarized that my circumstances do not make me what I am; they reveal what I already am. Before entering this long, treacherous stretch of my spiritual journey, I had felt pretty good about myself as a Christian. I served my God well, or so I believed. I had sacrificed much and was pretty proud of that. I did a lot for the Kingdom–at least in my own estimation — and I was able to demonstrate love to a variety of people. By all appearances, I was a good servant.

However, the God who knew my heart was ready to show me what lurked beneath the surface.

When I had walked in that dark valley long enough that even my hobbies weighed as a burden and the concept of “fun” had faded to a distant memory, then the real me was revealed.  I discovered that my heart contained more that was shrewish, complaining, and hateful than I had ever dreamed. I saw that I had little self-control and less patience. In short, my circumstances revealed a me that I was ashamed of and horrified by. It was as if I had imagined I was dressed for a royal gala only to have a mirror held up, exposing garments that were soiled and tattered,  greasy hair in utter disarray, skin that was sallow and sickly.

Here, in the disagreeable circumstance of chronic pain, I was confronted with some bare facts: my heart harbored more bitterness than blessing, more rage than compassion, more indulgence than self-discipline. Much of my service was revealed to me now to be done out of pride; a prim little girl looking for accolades and disappointed when none were offered. God lovingly but firmly exposed the real me that seethed secretly with bitterness and resentment.

I felt entitled to appreciation, entitled to have someone else help me in my work when I was sick, irritated when I felt that the work I did was unfair. And sometimes it was. I justified my peevishness with worldly standards, but by the grace and chastisement of my Father, I now fully comprehend that it was –and is — desperately, desperately wrong.

You see, for me to think that I deserve anything for my paltry, haughty service, to believe that I deserve anything at all outside of condemnation for the tremendous sin debt I owe, is tragically incorrect. All I deserve is death, yet in Christ I have been granted not only unmerited forgiveness but eternal life as well. It is by His grace alone I am saved. The thankfulness I have for this gift is beyond expression, though it took suffering to make me see clearly.

So did this time of intense and painful scourging result in a harvest of peace and righteousness? Peace, yes. I now have a more profound peace in my heart than I ever knew to be possible. Righteousness–well, the only righteousness I can claim is the mantle of my Lord that He, in His mercy, has clothed me in. I can say undoubtedly that I am no longer serving Him for what I may get out of it, but out of a gratitude so intense that it makes any task He metes seem light and simple, and when I fall into old habits of grumbling, the scars remind me to repent and fix my mind on His grace once more. The burdens I once whined beneath are now cheerfully borne because of the love I bear for my King. This is the meaning of Matthew 11:30, and I rejoice in the pain that helped me to understand it.

But even that is not all. He had something to show me still yet. . .

In Appreciation of Pain, Part One

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.
James 1:2-3

Today I am thankful for the relatively recent freedom from chronic migraine and associated headache pain I have experienced. I am grateful beyond words that my days are no longer bookended by varying degrees of that miserable pain which was both my first and last awareness for so many years.  As appreciative as I am for the fact that the number of headaches has drastically reduced, I feel the need to stress that I am also thankful for the many years I spent in the ruthless, dense fog of chronic migraine.

Strange though it may be,  I now consider those months of  incessant pain a blessing. There was absolutely nothing about it that was pleasant, nor would I wish to repeat even a week of the experience. Still,  it was during those interminable, torturous days marked most heavily by fatigue borne of perpetual pain that I learned such a great deal about the goodness of my Creator.

I have always been the type to plow on through an illness or injury to the point of utter collapse. Even that trait, however, proved a poor prop under the onslaught of nearly a decade of being both awakened and lulled to sleep by the pitiless ache in my head. For a while, my own strength sufficed. . .  for a while. But there came a day when I simply had nothing left. Even the most mundane tasks were overwhelming and the job of educating my children with patience and love seemed hopelessly out of reach.

Up to this time, I had sporadically called upon God for help when I found myself quite over my head. Now, however, I was in a perplexing state of trouble where my tremendous need was not covered by occasional pleas for mercy.  This was the time when I began to understand that a commonly spoken platitude was horribly flawed: God does give us more than we can handle. Often. Repeatedly. Even tenaciously for those of us who, like myself, are stubbornly proud and unwilling to even recognize our own weakness.

Finally desperate to break the cycle, I began to pray for help and confess my ineptitude continually throughout each day. I asked for His Spirit to expose and give me strength to repent of every act of self-sufficiency and for the grace to remember to call upon Him for mercy and for help in time of need — not only when troubled waters had swelled and I was drowning, but at the very moment those waters began to rise around me. I began to call upon Him sometimes hourly, sometimes every minute, and He willingly provided far above what my feeble efforts were worth. Slowly, the darkness of the valley did not bear down so intensely and though I still was too benumbed by pain to see far ahead, at least He provided the light to my feet for the step that was imminent.  I could see enough to walk forward. I could see that I needed to lean completely on the limitless sufficiency of His great grace.

But God had still more to show me…

 Lord, thank You that Your grace is truly sufficient! Thank You for not allowing me to move forward in self-sufficient pride; that You care enough to humble me and cause me to see my need to abide utterly in You. 

 

Forty

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Psalms 73:23-26

I enjoy being forty. I know that sounds crazy, especially in our youth-worshiping culture where Botox and hair dye have all but become rites of passage for women, but it is absolutely true. It isn’t that I’m excited about all the changes in my body or all the gray in my hair… that is, “excited” is not precisely the word I would use. However, I can honestly say that I am grateful for this time of my life, even thankful for some of the more negative effects of age.

I do have my share of age-related maladies, but I will spare you the list. My reason for writing today is not to gripe about the miseries of age, but to offer praise to my God. I also desire to give you a peek inside the growing portion of my heart that is no longer upset by the obliteration of my youth; the part that welcomes the autumn years.

Day by day, with each new wrinkle and each handful of hair I clean from my hairbrush, I am able to praise the Giver of all good gifts for what He is doing in my heart and my flesh.  In this, my day, the sun has passed its zenith. Lord willing, it will have slow descent before the sunset of my life, but be it swift or slow, I will praise Him for the process. As I look back at my fading youth, I do not feel sorrow nor a sense of loss; I feel a rising hope and a certainty of renewal. I look forward to see what colors the Lord will paint into the close of my day; what glory will be revealed before my light winks out here only to rise in the morning of eternal joy at His side.

You see, for me there is something in the aging process that is liberating. To know that I can never recapture the looks of my youth is not cause for despair. It is a fading of vanity, a chance to say a graceful farewell to that part of my life and welcome with joy a new season. As my rebelling body requires me to abstain from more and more favorite foods, I feel the allure of this world’s pleasures weakening and slipping away.  And so, when I wake stiff and sore or find a new gray hair in the mirror, it is not decay I see and feel; is it the loosening of bonds. It is the birth pains that will lead to joy. It is freedom.

More importantly, it is a chance to let God be master of my life. As each passing year slips away, with each new reminder that youth is a thing of the past, I am reminded that this world–the physical, material world I can see and touch–will not endure. All of it changes, some parts quickly, some more slowly, but all things are subject  to the relentless onslaught of Time. … all, that is, but what He is doing within me; reshaping me into His image; refining and pruning away what is useless so that when my time comes to fly away from this old clay pot and be clothed in what is eternal, I will be ready. He is preparing my heart for an eternity of praise by teaching me to find joy and praise even in the unappealing process of growing old.

This is why I am so thankful as I age. For with each passing year, I grow closer to my King, walk more fully in His presence. Each new sign of age is a blessing, for it reminds me of what is important–and of what is not. It is a continual reminder that, while the outer self is wasting away, the inner self is being renewed day by day. So I am deeply, truly thankful for the decline of my youth.  It frees me more and more to focus less on myself and more on the goodness and wonder of my God!

So my brothers and sisters, let’s make an effort today not to complain about those pesky thorns of age, but to thank God for the opportunity for our preoccupation with ourselves to decrease and request that our fascination of Him will increase. How do you feel about each new decade?

 

Juxtaposition

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

“All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever.” And this word is the good news that was preached to you.
1 Peter 1:24-25

Last Thursday brought a delightful visit with some friends and their newborn baby in the hospital. As usual, I marveled over the perfection of tiny fingers and toes and wondered over the impossibly small size of the infant.  Then, on Saturday, I found myself in quite a different  room with some of my old judo cronies as we attended the pre-funeral visitation for our sensei. He was still relatively young when a heart attack took him, and he left behind (among other family) two teenage sons, a nephew… and his mother. As a mother myself, my heart breaks for this woman, though I had never met her before.  It seems a particularly cruel barb of the sin curse when a person outlives her children.

As I watched his mother from across the room, I couldn’t help but think that our friend and sensei was her baby. She had held him in her arms once, not so very long ago. She had likely marveled over the wonderful flawlessness of miniature fingers and toes, wondered what his future held, dreamed big dreams on his behalf.  As I took it all in, both events so close in chronology became to me a poignant reminder of life’s brevity. From birth to death, we are each truly are just a breath. Our lives are as fleeting as flowers and just as fragile.

So what is the point of all this somewhat somber rambling? Simply this: Faced so starkly with evidence of the inexorable and swift current of time, I could not help but think how important it is to  make the most of each and every moment.  Each chance to  share the goodness of God, the reality of eternity, the gift of salvation, the splendor of the Creator and Redeemer, a word of encouragement, or the hope that is within us  with another person is a chance that we dare not waste.  None of these opportunities, whether they seem to us grand or insignificant, should be wasted. We do not know that we will have another.

We must also be careful not to squander each chance to seek the Lord’s face for ourselves, to spend quality time with Him here and now. I don’t know about you, but I need a steady diet of Truth to  encourage me, to keep me from growing fainthearted, and to counteract the lies I am bombarded with daily. Let us not forget that we are living and working, as C. S. Lewis puts it, in “enemy occupied territory,” and the enemy is actively trying to thwart, distract, and discourage the King’s men.  Daily, hourly, even moment-to-moment, we need to be bold in praise to our Lord and be humble in approaching the Throne of Grace. Let us not procrastinate, brothers, but be serious about our devotion today. We are never promised tomorrow.

Though this life is brief,  we do not lose heart. We must remember that it is just the soldier’s camp, these bodies the tents, as we live, work, and fight on the vast spiritual battleground we call Earth. Don’t give up hope, fellow soldier! Fight the good fight and make the most of each opportunity God sends your way, both as you work out your own salvation with fear and trembling and as you have the chance to share with others. Remember always that what our enemy may intend for evil, God uses for good, and take heart that our King is sovereign. Each time you have a chance to declare your praise, to share your faith or your love for the Lord, seize them before they are swept away in the current of time.

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.
Ephesians 5:15-17

Lord, open our eyes to see around us the opportunities to speak words of Godly wisdom, life, and truth into the lives of those around us today. May we never cower in fear but be bold for the sake of Your Kingdom, amen. 

Sky Watcher

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge.
Psalms 19:1-2

I have spent a lot of time in my life looking up at the heavens. In each season, there are fresh wonders to be seen.  Rainbows. Sunsets. Sunrises. Storms. I live in an area blessed by some vibrant and incredible sunsets.  And the clouds. . . so much variety in the various types and shapes. I love the fluffy-looking whites,  the ominous grays that tell of an approaching tempest, and all the in-betweens. I have even seen a wispy cirrus cloud sporting the colors of the rainbow; a lovely blending of two distinct natural phenomena:

RainbowCloud01

And that is just the daytime! I also adore the cold, crystalline beauty of the starry nights and the moon as she pivots through her monthly dance; now shy and shrinking, now flinging aside her veil to stare down on us in saucy elegance.  Each time I gaze upward toward the vast blackness of the night sky, I find myself wondering what I do not see because of the modern phenomenon of electric light; wonder what my ancestors saw when they gazed upon the same heavens.  I hear the skies of old described and wish I could see the whitish smear of the milky way and the uncountable twinklings of every size of star on the velvet canopy above.  The depths of space are somewhat masked by the technology of today.

They are masked in more ways than one. It also seems to me that for many of us it is harder to sit and contemplate the distant glow of the heavenly bodies as they perform their intricate but oh-so-languid dance when there is such a riotous and rowdy visual cacophony of twinkling, blinking, and flashing  gadgetry down here to rivet our attention.   We have no time for dreadfully slow and stately march of the luminaries, no patience for picking out the vague constellations. Or we have time, but our devices and the lure of HD snags our attention yet again.  We glance, but we do not sit in silence and solitude, wondering, dreaming.  It is not just the ability to view the heavens that has dimmed in the present age; it is the knowledge of what is there that has been eclipsed as well.

Even so, I am sure that there are signs there, unseen though they may be. God’s Word states in its very first chapter that the stars, moon, and our sun were put into place “for signs and seasons, and for days and years.” Jesus, too, talks of the sign of the Son of Man appearing in the heavens (Matthew 24:30) and of “signs in the sun, moon, and stars” in the last days (Luke 21:25). We know that around the time of His birth, there were wise men from the East saw the star of the Messiah and came to worship him (Matthew 2:1-2) , and Revelation chapters 12 and 15 both refer to signs in the sky.

And so I find myself as I gaze upward wondering… what am I missing? What signs of the age are up there, written in the skies for all to see, but lost to me because of my ignorance? What indicators may be heralding some great change or event, but are unheeded by me? How I would love to know! Even though I do not, I still find my eyes drawn upward in fascination to the skies in all states, day and night, and in all seasons. And I have a feeling that whatever signs I miss, I will not be able to overlook that future moment when the Messiah coming on the clouds in power and great glory.  What a spectacular show that is bound to be!

Behold, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of him. Even so. Amen.
Revelation 1:7

 

Wealth

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints,
Ephesians 1:16-18

I am a wealthy woman.

Of course, I am American and as such am a member of an affluent society. It is true that I have a house that does not (often) leak, a vehicle that runs, food on the table every day (not to mention the table itself), clean water, and enough clothing for each member of my family. This alone is nearly incomprehensible wealth to so many, and I am exceedingly thankful for every bit of it. However, these things are not the riches that filled my heart with joy this past weekend, spilling over into praise for my God.  Indeed, while these earthly riches are most excellent,  I count my true fortune in the sheer joy of undeserved salvation, the splendor and majesty of my King and His creation, and the precious fellowship of my brothers and sisters in Christ.

It all started early on Friday with a field trip to a local farm. It was a glorious fall day, and I was struck both by the beauty of the area I live in and the plenitude of good friends to share in it. I recalled a time when I was friendless; alone and mired in despair so dense that I could see nothing but hopelessness. I was blind, and it was here that God found me and began to do a work in my heart, replacing self-loathing and self-focus with love and adoration of Him, healing my blindness and helping me to see the Truth that would set me free, teaching me to be a friend to others and so finding myself abundantly blessed with friendship in return.

Later that afternoon, my family met other friends for a portrait swap–we took their family pic and they took ours. I had more moments of amazement at the resplendence of Creation, more reveling in the immensity of my family in Christ. The contrast to the spiritual poverty of the old me was stunning.

The next day brought still more treasure; still more awareness of the fingerprints of the Almighty upon His creation as we took a scenic drive to a natural area. Saturday also brought to mind  the delight in being a part of the Body of Christ as I photographed a brother and his soon-to-be bride, trying to capture the thrill of their new love against the backdrop of our Father’s world.

Sunday followed–a day of worship, of talking about the riches of God’s grace to some of my very smallest friends. Afterward was another celebration for a child who used to be in my Sunday class and had just turned five — a dual celebration for me as I watched my 10- and 11-year-old daughters value their little friend as much as they value their peers.

Monday was back to the daily grind, but still I marveled at the astonishing provision God has granted for me to be able to home school. I have stopped worrying about where the money for curriculum will come from, for He has always faithfully provided what we need to fulfill His calling.  Besides the financial elements, He has also provided patience beyond my own lot, conviction to repent openly when my flesh takes over and my own patience snaps, the ability to teach when teaching is not my gift, all the while teaching me to rely completely on Him—and that He is completely reliable.

But there was more to our Monday. It ended with yet another party. A little friend, now four years old, had fought and won a long battle against cancer just over a year ago. The Make A Wish Foundation is now gifting her and her family with a trip to Disney that would otherwise be far beyond their meager means, especially with finances complicated by those many months battling cancer and the continuing medical expense of another daughter with spina bifida. It was such fun to see all the kids who had prayed so diligently for this sweet girl now able to come together and rejoice in her good fortune. I found myself awash in a swirling tide of childish exuberance, laughing and enjoying the celebration with her parents, loving that they still had this child with them to take to Disney.

Today the various parties are over. But I find that I still have merrymaking in my heart — loving my brothers and sisters, worshiping my God who walks with us through trials and grants us seasons of refreshment and festivity. Even when the memory of these moments fades away, I will worship Him still.  Even if somehow all the rest–the breathtaking beauty of nature, the fellowship of friends, the sharing in the joy of others, and the boon of healthy children–even should it all crumble and blow away like ash, the revelry will still continue within.

For even though all of these festivities bring awareness of my non-material opulence, my truest riches are still to be found in Christ alone. He has given, and He may someday take away, yet even if He does, still I will praise Him. He is my portion; He is my wealth.

 

Dust

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.
Psalms 103:13-14

Oh Lord, how you must shake Your head at us sometimes! We are so fickle. So glibly we offer You praise on a fine Sunday morning, claim to believe in You, profess our undying love in song, and then we walk out the doors.  Back in the real world, we harbor resentful thoughts towards our husbands, we complain about the volume or the temperature in church, we snap at our children for being children, we mutter angrily at being cut off on the interstate, and all the while we are smugly certain that we are really rather mature, spiritually.

Rather than looking so hard at others, would we not do well to look carefully at ourselves? Naturally, we do need to discern between good and evil in this world where the enemy of our souls is working tirelessly to blur the lines. However, if we walk closely each day with the Light of the world, we find that lines that seemed dim in the twilight are stark in the radiance of His presence.

And so, as we walk in this brilliance, let us turn our eyes to ourselves. In the light where the stain of evil is readily apparent, how do our own garments look? Do our words to others throughout the week harmonize with that Sunday tune of praise and belief? Do we face financial challenge with blessings to our Provider on our lips, hearts in full assurance that the God who clothes the grass in such splendid array will take care of our needs, too? Does our internal dialog reflect an attitude of reverence and worship, continuing the hymn of adoration throughout each moment of the week no matter what trials or triumphs await us?

Ah, God! Teach us not to become so distracted by this world! Train our hearts to gaze on Your face, letting our little idols of self crumble from neglect. Though the darkness looms, seeming to press against us, remind us not to fear, for Your light cannot be quenched by it. Help us to truly become doers of Your Word, not just those who hear and remain as unmoved and unmovable as stones. Fill us with Your love by which Yeshua said the world would know that we are His disciples. Set a guard on our lips so that they may  not speak against a brother or judge a brother, nor speak bitter or hateful words at all. Better yet, Father, purify our hearts so that there is no bitterness nor any other evil within which can taint our speech or spoil our actions. 

And God? Father? Thank You for calling us Your children. Thank You for remembering that we are dust as we daily battle against our flesh and our sin nature, winning some battles but losing others. Thank You that You are patient with us, that You have compassion on us as we stumble and stagger along the narrow road, often forgetting to use the Lamp you have given us to see by. Teach us, Lord, as we go along to become more faithful and please increase our faith in You. Let us be children who trust in our Father implicitly; not foolish children who scamper off on our own way but wise children who listen in adoration, who obey from hearts swelling with love.  And while we are being loved by You, reveling in Your patience with our failures and Your compassion for our meager efforts, give our hearts the wisdom to show that same patience and compassion with our brothers and sisters.  Thank You in the name of our Messiah, Your Son and our King, amen.