newsflash!

"Jesus wept" John 11:35

When my boys were in youth group, and they were called on to quote scripture, John 11:35 was recited more often than not. (A scathing testimony to their lack of bible training on my part.) Nevertheless, they were quoting The Word...however concise. And though this is the shortest verse in the whole of scripture, these two words couldn't be more pregnant with the ability to make us scratch our heads and ask, "WHY?"

Why would the Son of the Living God, the one by whom, for whom, and through whom ALL things were made and consist, not to mention the ONLY human being on earth who could actually remedy the situation of Lazaras' death, CRY?

I was pondering this reality recently, and I think I got a glimpse into at least one facet of the WHY. Jesus, God with skin on, was, is, and will always be an emotional God! Whohoo! He's not a stone-faced stoic, but he is "moved by the feelings of our infirmities." How great is that?

It's a stretch here, but maybe, just maybe when I allow myself to show emotion in worship, I'M ACTING LIKE JESUS!

storms

"I was sure by now / That You would have reached down / And wiped our tears away / stepped in and saved the day / but once again, I say "Amen," and it's still raining"


It's storming. Again. Not just on the outside, but on the inside--in my soul. My heart is covered in a thick, wet blanket. Every scripture I know eludes me. Tears are gathering, anxious to fall.


Anyone who's ever flown out of Sea-Tac airport knows this story. The day of your flight is overcast at best, probably raining. You take your seat by the window and look out over the glassy tarmack, and watch the men load luggage, their yellow slickers glistening. The plane taxi's down the runway and finally lifts her nose into the dreary, gray, soggy air. Your stomach sinks as thrust kicks in, and into the gloom you climb. Rain slaps the window and runs off in streaks.

And then I hear the word. Your word.

Out the window, you watch the clouds begin to thin, like fog burning off. You close your eyes, and feel warmth. In a flash, the brightest light pours over the top of the clouds. You squint your eyes and look up...look all around--as far around as the tiny portal window allows--and all you can see is blue sky. Azure blue, baby blue, sky blue. No more rain. No more clouds. From this altitude upward there's nothing but light, and sun, and clarity. Crystal clarity.

"I'll praise You in this storm / and I will lift my hands / For You are who You are / No matter where I am / Every tear I've cried / You hold in Your hand / You never left my side / And though my heart is torn...

I WILL PRAISE YOU IN THIS STORM."

holiness

For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust. Ps. 103:14

Then said the Lord to him, Put off thy shoes from thy feet: for the place where thou standest is holy ground. Acts 7:33

So…how does ground get to be holy? Do all the molecules behave themselves, or does the earth follow some sort of program to achieve supreme righteousness? Did the holy dirt look down on the surrounding unholy dirt, and scoff, “If you had only been more like me, you could be holy, too?” What made that dirt special? What could’ve transformed the ground beneath Moses’ feet ‘ into holy ground?

I think the dirt beneath Moses’ feet was just that—dirt. Made up of the same elements that make up any soil--the same molecules that make up you and me. So the reason it could be deemed ‘holy’ wasn’t due to some action or activity on the part of the dirt, because no matter how hard it works, or strives, it is still unholy ground. The transforming factor then, has to be the ‘Who’. The difference between the holy ground, and the surrounding unholy ground was the presence of the one who is Holy. The Holy One was there. The Holy One had shown up. And where the Lord is, is Holy. Where the Lord is, holiness permeates to the uttermost. Great news for this dusty girl.