When you’re flunking Holy Week

Many Christians in the world tonight are gathered at Maundy Thursday services, in quiet reflective sanctuaries around the globe. Here I am at home, with my children tucked sweetly in bed.

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All pictures from Jerusalem during Holy Week)

And with a confession heavy on my heart:

I’m not ready this year for Easter.

I haven’t participated in Lent.  I haven’t been reading and preparing for this Easter season.  I haven’t been particularly mindful of Holy Week, as I normally would be.

I have been entirely preoccupied and consumed with a physical circumstance that I’m enduring, and it takes up nearly my every waking thought.  It feels to me that others are experiencing some great spiritual time of nearness to God, brokenness and contrition remembering Good Friday which we will observe tomorrow, while I am somewhere else, apart from this realm, consumed with my physical struggle.  I feel completely laid low.  I feel like a total spiritual failure.  Ah yes, Guilt, my familiar companion.

Walking this afternoon with the kids, my heart just broken before the Lord, crying out to Him:  “Lord this is just where I am.  I have nothing to offer You.  I haven’t done anything this Lenten season to remember You.  I don’t deserve some big sense of spiritual nearness to You, because I know I haven’t done the work of seeking and preparing my heart.  But somehow, would You still meet me, even here?”

It was as I was stirring simmering gnocchi over the oven that the hymn played over me, a precious favorite of mine by Fanny Crosby, one of my favorite hymn writers.

Pass me not, oh gentle Savior, 
Hear my humble cry;
While on others Thou art calling,
Do not pass me by.

Savior, Savior, 
Hear my humble cry;
While on others Thou art calling,
Do not pass me by.

Let me at Thy throne of mercy
Find a sweet relief,
Kneeling there in deep contrition;
Help my unbelief.

Trusting only in Thy merit,
Would I seek Thy face;
Heal my wounded, broken spirit,
Save me by Thy grace.

Thou the Spring of all my comfort,
More than life to me,
Whom have I on earth beside Thee?
Whom in heav’n but Thee?

And the tears flowed.  He spoke so tenderly.  Yes, He longs for me, even me, even this distracted heart so prone to wander.  And when will it sink in?  When will I believe that I can never earn His presence, His voice.  It is all gift, an extravagant gift of His grace.  So just in case there’s anyone else out there who feels like they’re flunking Holy Week:  He can never resist any who reach out to Him.  He will never pass you by.  You can’t flunk Holy Week because it’s not a performance.  OH the sweet relief it is to kneel at His cross and to know He takes me again and again, brokenness, sinfulness, distracatedness and all.

For a video/audio of the hymn quoted above, click here:

 

when the promise waits

I grew up in a home so full of love and sweet memories.  And yet, like so many others of you have experienced, the darkness was there.  Early on, darkness invaded our home and although one of my siblings was horribly victimized, all of us fell victim in our own ways to that darkness.  All of us were affected, broken.  When someone you love just as much as your own flesh is suffering in horrendous pain, you suffer too.  You can’t be okay in some ways until they are okay.  Your healing waits for theirs.

And so the question of “why pain, why suffering,” the question the world wields like a certain sword to the existence of a good God, often has haunted me.  Although it has never pushed me away from God, I have always felt His understanding in my need to ask those questions.  And so graciously, sometimes in the quiet and over the years, He has given glimpses.  There will never be a satisfactory answer to that question, as centuries of men far wiser than me have sought and found it unanswered.  Some things you have to choose to believe even in the face of difficulty.  Some things you just have to surrender.

Last night we all went out for ice cream, my husband and our two kids and I.  All week, in my study time with the kids, we’ve been learning about Abraham and Sarah and how they waited for the child God had promised them.  As part of teaching our daughter about waiting for a promise to be fulfilled, I promised her at the beginning of the week an ice cream treat, but she would have to wait until the end of the week for it.  Every day we talked about it, I reminded her of my promise, that I would fulfill it.  And she learned to wait and to anticipate.  And so, last night, she got her chocolate ice cream, and her excitement was unparalleled.

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And so my mind has been thinking over Abraham and Sarah and their story.  Maybe you’re familiar with it {Genesis 12-23}.  I imagine that early on in Abraham and Sarah’s marriage, they dreamed about children, as so many of us do.  Of course, the pressures of their society were entirely different than ours.  For them, children were essential.  A woman who was barren was worthless, and could easily be dismissed and divorced by her husband.  What’s worse, barrenness was seen as a sign of divine judgement.  It was essential for a family’s name to be passed down and for the family line to continue through sons.

For many years Abraham and Sarah would have longed for a child, tried for a child.  But one day, the window of opportunity would have begun to close on Sarah’s natural ability.  She would have known that, although she had hoped against hope, although she had told herself to stop hoping, now all hope surely was gone.  It was time to let this dream die, as her own womb grew silent and dormant forever.

And the years continued to pass.  Now the ache was still there, but the sting had lessened a bit.  She was an old woman now, and she had a husband who loved her enough to stay with her, even in this shame she had brought on him.  She had chosen to let this be enough.

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(photo credit here)

And then, the word of the Lord came to Abram.  That night came when the Lord told Abram to count the stars if he was able.  So would his descendants be: innumerable {Gen. 15:1-6}.  And the incredulous hope began to stir again.  Descendants?  This means children.  But how can this be?  And Sarah, maybe in impatience for this promise, maybe because she simply couldn’t fathom the miracle God had planned, figured it must not be through her own body that God would do this work, but through her handmaiden.  And so she suggests Abraham father a child through her maid, Hagar.  Ishmael is born, Abraham’s first son.

But this was not God’s plan for the family He was planning to generate through Abraham.  He was going to begin through Abraham and Sarah the line of Israel, a people He had chosen for Himself, to set apart for Himself as His own special portion.  A family which would be inordinately blessed, upon which His favor would forever rest.  And this family line would begin with an undeniable, miraculous work of God, not the scheming and devising of man.

Then when Abram was 99 years old, the Lord appeared to him.  God changes Abram’s name to Abraham, Sarai’s name to Sarah.  And He reveals that His plan was for the family line to come through Abraham and Sarah, and that Ishmael was not the chosen son. He tells Abraham that Sarah will have a son, and they will name him Isaac {Gen. 17}.  And yet still, the promise waited.  Still some years passed before this son Isaac was conceived in Sarah’s womb.

Why was this God’s way?  Why does the promise wait?

It isn’t what comes easily to us, what comes in abundance to us, that we treasure.  It’s what we have to fight for, what we have to long for, what we have to work for, what is rare, that we most treasure and appreciate.  Our dependency, our helplessness to secure it for ourselves — this makes us all the more aware of what a treasure it is when it comes.

It’s how we see.  When we see things as widely available, or easily attainable, we are often careless with it.  But when it’s hard to come by, we are careful with it.  We hold it close.  We enjoy it more.

When a snow storm is predicted in NC, where I live, the aisles at the grocery store are completely emptied of bread and milk.  Suddenly we perceive the value of having enough food when the threat comes that we may not easily be able to get to the store.

We see it with money.  When we have enough, we spend easily and carelessly.  When we know we don’t have enough, suddenly every expense is calculated and measured.  We are thankful for anything we can afford to feed our family, instead of worrying about whether it’s organic or locally sourced.  Suddenly the priorities change and the thanks increase for whatever we have.

We see it in a culture of abortion.  Children?  An inconvenience, easy to come by when I am ready.  Easy to dispose of when I’m not.

When my husband and I had our first daughter, the pregnancy came as as surprise and went along easily.  She was born in six hours and without any complications.  I cannot even begin to tell you the explosion of joy it was to have her and to hold her for the first time.  It’s unlike anything I had ever experienced before.  It’s indescribable.

But I think about Sarah.  What was her joy like?  I can’t measure it, but I imagine that it was infinitely greater than mine.

See, there’s an innocent joy that I experienced when my daughter was born, the joy unmixed with sorrow.  An innocent, untried joy.  A beautiful kind of joy.  But the joy that Sarah had?  The joy that comes after waiting and longing for probably 60-80 years to be a mother?  And then at nearly 100 years old, to hold her first child.  Her miracle child.  Her divine child.

And it makes me think.  God gave me the gift of a child when I had a firstborn, and of course, joy.  But for someone who has waited, for someone like Sarah, God gave the gift AND the fullest measure of joy possible along with the gift.  The greatest gift, with inestimable value in and of itself, along with the greatest possible ability to receive and enjoy the preciousness of the gift.

God stirred up their longing for a child, a longing they had surrendered, and then allowed more waiting and disappointment.  We see this and think God mean, manipulative.  A loving parent would give the desired gift immediately, we think.  But what if a parent who is perfect in love, who is full of light and in Him is no darkness whatsoever, no hint of malevolence–what if He deferred hope so that He could fulfill it with greater joy?

Abraham and Sarah grasped the weight of it.  The heaviness of glory in the miraculous holding of their very own child, their very own flesh and blood, in their wrinkled, aged hands.

Thus, Isaac.. “the son of laughter” or “he will laugh.”

The son of immeasurable joy.

And so maybe this is why sometimes, the promise waits.  Maybe this is why there are the years and years of praying for the lost family member, the prodigal child, the infertility, the healing of a disease.  Sometimes we know, in God’s higher ways that are beyond our conceiving, His most loving answer is “No.”  But sometimes, He waits so that when the “yes” comes, our joy is beyond the ordinary joy.  So that we treasure that “yes” to fullest measure.

 

good fruit

One of my favorite gifts from our wedding was this piece of pottery.  It was given to us by one of my Aunts from her local pottery shop in Ontario, Canada.  It’s one of the few serving platters I own, and yet as soon as my husband and I returned from our honeymoon and were settling into our tiny little studio apartment, this platter began to hold fruit.

My parents had always had a well-stocked “fruit bowl” in the kitchen for us five kids.  In that bizarre transition from childhood home to husband’s home, I needed that familiarity.  And it instantly made our tiny apartment feel like home.  I have kept it loaded with fruit ever since.  We’ve rented multiple places, we’ve trekked across the country and set up home in Colorado for a few years, and always, this sameness.

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But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” {Gal.5:22-23}

I was thinking about it while unloading groceries this morning.  We are like this platter.  Empty containers.  Earthen containers.  We can’t take any credit for the fruit we hold.  We didn’t grow it.  All we do is receive it.  All we do is wait open, surrendered.  And in God’s grace, His Spirit, rooted in the lives of those who believe in Jesus, begins this fruit-producing process.

He is our only good.  He makes our lives beautiful.  That He resides in us, a mystery, and our only hope of glory.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” {2 Cor. 4:7 esv}

“Christ in you, the hope of glory.” {Col. 1:27 esv}

Unlike this platter, we aren’t lifeless, baked-hard clay.  We are alive and breathing.  And the beauty of the fruit we display?  It is borne in us, through us, by God’s Spirit.  So that many would taste that fruit and see that the Lord is good.  No one would grab an apple from this bowl and exclaim, “Wow!  That piece of pottery produced a mighty good apple.”  We understand that the bowl only holds the fruit that was produced elsewhere, by a farmer who specializes in growing good fruit.  Likewise, the fruit we bear as Christians is evidence of a Farmer tending our souls, growing the good fruit of His character there, for others to taste and see His goodness and beauty.  And yet, what a glorious mystery, what a beauty that we get to cooperate with Him in this endeavor, that we get to be the container through which He chooses to let His glory be on display.  And not just on display,  but available to be enjoyed by a hungry world.

“By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.” {John 15:8 esv}

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So, let’s abide in Him today, and trust Him to produce good fruit in us, and to cause it to spill out of us, to the praise of His glorious grace.  If you’re anything like me, some days it feels like the ground is only producing thistles and thorns.  Harsh words, selfishness, anger, fear, distrust, irritation, weariness.  Those are the things that seem to be growing in this soil.  But His promise is that if we are His, then we are in Christ.  And if Christ is in us, His Spirit will produce fruit.  Let’s trust Him in this.  Let’s be patient in this endeavor, as the Farmer’s work of producing fruit is a slow and steady growing.  A patient and quiet work, done in the dark and in the mundane moments.

“And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”  {Phil. 1:6 esv

{If you’d like that steady reminder of God’s promise, you can find the above printable for free here}

kids + ducks

This past weekend we visited my husband’s family.  We all went on a little walk to a pond nearby to feed the ducks.  It was our kids’ first time feeding the ducks and they were so excited!  I love how children help us remember that the simple + ordinary are heavy-laden with joy.

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These glorious blooms were a sight for my sore eyes!  Spring really is coming!!

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Our son, so interested in the noisy ducks.

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We realized there was a huge hawk overhead.

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The little man was pretty devastated when he realized the moldy bread was actually for the ducks.

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Yeah, I pretty much can’t resist that pouty face.

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Little N & his “Baba.”

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P and her “Nain.”

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One of the kids’ Aunties was along, as well.

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Daddy and our two little ones.  My three favorites.

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Hope you’re seeing some sun wherever you are and maybe even the first blooms of the season!

What is Art?

I have been thinking so much on art lately.  Ever since reading Emily Freeman’s book A Million Little Ways.  I have been mulling over what the purpose is in art, in beauty, in good food, in laughter, in good movies or piercing music.  In cleanliness, in order.  Does art matter?  Does it have a purpose or is it an unnecessary trivia in this world rife with pain and turmoil?  People are suffering–does art matter?

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Today these words from Francis Schaeffer’s wife, Edith:

“What is Art?  Authorities do not agree.  Definitions differ.  Who draws the line that separates
Art from Design?
Sculpture from Ornaments?
Poetry from Jingles?
Great Music from Pooh’s Hums?
Great Literature from Daily News?

Is Art beauty, or depth of expression?
Is Art communication calling for response?
Is Art talent for involving other human beings in what otherwise would remain locked in the mind?
Is Art something that draws many others into the beauty, joy, and vividness of another person’s understanding?
Is Art something that includes others in the torn struggling of another person’s suffering?

Whatever it is, surely art involves creativity and originality.  Whatever form art takes, it gives outward expression to what otherwise would remain locked in the mind, unshared.  One individual personality has definite or special talent for expressing, in some medium, what other personalities can hear, see, smell, feel, taste, understand, enjoy, be stimulated by, be involved in, find refreshment in, find satisfaction in, find fulfillment in, experience reality in, be agonized by, be pleased by, enter into, but which they could not produce themselves.

Art in various forms expresses and gives opportunity to others to share in, and respond to, things which would otherwise remain vague, empty yearnings.  Art satisfies and fulfills something in the person creating and in those responding.

One area of art inspires another area of art, but also one person’s expression of art stimulates another person and brings about growth in understanding, sensitivity, and appreciation.  One active artist gives courage and incentive, and germinates ideas in others for producing more art.  Hence a very poor, humble or unknown artist might easily provide the spark which kindles the fire of a great artist.  But however good or great, his art is never perfect.

The only artist who is perfect in all forms of creativity–in technique, in originality, in knowledge of the past and future, in versatility, in having perfect content to express as well as perfect expression of content, in having perfect truth to express as well as perfect expression of truth, in communicating perfectly the wonders of all the exists as well as something about Himself, is of course God–the God who is Personal.

God, the Artist!”

-Edith Schaeffer, The Hidden Art of Homemaking

come ye weary

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“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion?
Come to me.
Get away with me and you’ll recover your life.
I’ll show you how to take a real rest.
Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it.
Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.

I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.
Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

{Matthew 11:28-30 MSG}

Anyone’s Valentine {A Word to the Ladies}

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I have to admit, I’m a romantic.  I’m idealistic and hopeful and hopelessly romantic.  So I don’t mind Valentines Day.  Yes, it’s a commercialized, capitalized day where we’re all a little forced to do and buy things for our loved one, should we have one, whether we feel up to it or not.  But for me, its an opportunity to take a random day to love on those we love.

However.

I also see the potential in Valentine’s Day every year for a whole host of evils.  There is the temptation, for a romantic like me, to never be satisfied with what my husband has done, to build up impossible expectations and then be angry at him.  It can be a chance criticize and feel disparaging things toward my loved one.

Valentine’s Day can become Entitlement Day, where I am owed SOMETHING from my husband, something from someone {anyone?} to tell me I’m loved.

It can be National Pressure Day, where men feel pressured to come through in some spectacular way for their love, and to top it every year, with yet the constant nagging hint that they will never succeed in this endeavor.

Which leads to National Disappointment Day.

It can be National Single’s Awareness Day, as we are all aware, because it can also be Single’s National Day of Complaint.  Those without a current boyfriend or husband can be made to feel small, insignificant, unworthy, unloved, and unseen.  They {incorrectly, I’m afraid} assume every other woman who has a man is being doted upon, dated, wooed, lavished with flowers and gifts, and feeling wholly loved and satisfied.

For married and unmarrieds alike, it can become National Comparison Day.  This is a real danger.  Women post pictures to all social media outlets to give their guy some props for the efforts he went to to lavish love on his girl.  Women then compare and feel more or less loved compared to what so-and-so’s husband/boyfriend did for her.

Somehow for all of us, I’m convinced, this day has the potential to be a depressing day.  But it also doesn’t have to be that way.

Our hearts were made for more.  Our hearts were not made to be satisfied by a human love.  A human love is wonderful and satisfying in a lot of ways, but for those of you who aren’t married yet, let me go ahead and tell you, it still doesn’t fill the void.  You will still face the temptation every year on Valentine’s Day to be disappointed.  Having a husband or a boyfriend will not fix that, because its an issue within our own hearts, not an issue with someone else’s actions.

We were made to want to be loved.  Proverbs  19:22 says “What a person desires is unfailing love.”  We were made with an aching need to be loved.  That is right, normal, okay–don’t kill that off.  The painful part is to keep that part of your heart open in the face of disappointment after disappointment.

I have the sweetest husband, who loves me tremendously.  But, he is not built to be a romantic guy.  It’s just not his strength.  So for a romantic like me, I have struggled with being disappointed, angry, entitled, jealous, etc.  But even the times when my husband has done an incredible job, I still find myself struggling with dissatisfaction.  What is that?!  What God has taught me is that disappointment can be an avenue to breaking my heart open.  It can speak to a deeper longing.  A longing that cannot be satisfied by human and the earthly and tangible.  Disappointment can remind me that I was made for More.  I was made for a love that is immeasurable.  Disappointment can be the avenue through which God gives me the greatest gift, the gift of Himself.

The reality is, as Oswald Chambers said, “No love of the natural heart is safe unless the human heart has been satisfied by God first.”  Before I got married, I heard the advice of a wise woman to pray every day, “Satisfy us early with Your unfailing love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days!” (Ps. 90:14)

What great advice it was, something I have never forgotten.  It’s HIS unfailing love that I was made for, that my heart longs for.  A human love can point to it, even a broken human love will always point to my need for His far greater, far surpassing love.

In this way, I’ve come to see the disappointments as gifts.  Arrows always pointing me back to my Savior.  The Savior who made it that way, who wounds me so that He can heal me.  So that I come to Him.  So that I have nowhere else to turn, with a heart so prone to wander.  That I’ll have tried every other well and found it to leave me still thirsty.

He can fill your hearts, ladies.  He alone can fill your hearts.  He wants to.  He will.  Ask Him to, today.  Ask Him to blow your mind.  Ask Him to be sweet to you in the ways you need Him to.  Ask Him to minister to your human girly heart that craves affection, adoration, unfailing love.  He is willing to be anyone’s Valentine.

Don’t listen to the whisper that your value and worth and dependent upon getting roses, or chocolate, or a card.  It’s ridiculous!  Your value and worth come from God alone, who made you in His own image, with incredible detail and foresight and love (see Psalm 139).

As you let God minister to your disappointment and you need to receive love today, in return, pour out what lavish love He has given you on others.  Find others to bless with little gifts, hugs, and love.  Give what it is you yourself are needing to someone else today.

I hope that no matter who you are, you know your great worth and value today and that your heart is met in the sweetest ways by Jesus.

“May your unfailing love be with us, Lord, even as we put our hope in you.”  {Psa. 33:22}

“How priceless is your unfailing love, O God! People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.”  {Psa. 36:7}

“The Lord appeared to us in the past, saying: ‘I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.'” {Jer. 31:3}

“Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life.”  {Psa. 143:8}

“May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant.”  {Psa. 119:76}

“Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the Lord, who has compassion on you.”  {Isa. 54:10}

When you’re helpless: My story of Rescue

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Thirteen years ago today, at this exact time, 8:30 am on a Monday morning, I was freezing.  Literally.  I was huddled in the snow in the rugged backcountry wilderness of Colorado.  I was sixteen years old at the time, and I was alone with my sister, who was twenty.  We had spent the night stranded in the frigid conditions, lost.  Helpless.  The previous day, February 11, 2001, had been a gorgeous windy day in the backcountry.  We had driven up from Denver with our brother and good friend Chris, and we were all planning on a fun day of snowboarding at Loveland Pass.  My sister and I broke off from the guys, who were going to build a jump and play on that, to hike farther around the bowl and do laps.  The wind was insane that day on the ridge, and as we hiked farther around the bowl, Jennie and I set our sights on a peak on the backside of the bowl.  We had never ventured over there before, but from where we were standing, it looked entirely feasible.  And fun.  So we set off to hike the next peak.  And thus began what would become an incredible story of survival.

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We were young and foolish.  We didn’t think about the fact that we were going far beyond where we had told everyone we would be.  We didn’t account for snow conditions, or even cared (read: 16 years old).  Or for the fact that it was late in the afternoon.  It was incredibly deep snow and soon we were slogging waist deep, post-holing and fighting to just make forward progress.  Long story short, we were soon exhausted and thirsty.  And we were losing daylight.  It was an extrememly vulnerable feeling.  We knew how to get back where we had come from, but we couldn’t physically hike back up the mountain we had ridden down because of the deep heavy snow.  We had decided to head a different way, hoping to circle around and meet up with the pass road on the other side of the pass.  But the farther we ventured down into treeline, the less visibility we had, the sooner we realized we were lost.

The sun sank behind the towering peaks behind us.  The shadows were lengthening.  The temperature was immediately dropping.  We had been hiking now for hours without water or food.  We found a clearing in the trees where we could get a view of the valley below us, expecting to see the pass road.  Instead we saw a mountain.  My heart fell in that moment.  We would never get over that in the couple of hours of daylight we had left.  And with our level of exhaustion, I was skeptical that we would ever make it that far.  It was an incredibly sobering and terrifying moment. 

We changed plans.  Instead of it becoming about getting out of the backcountry, we realized we were in a survival situation.  It became about preparing to spend the night here, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of snow, in the middle of February, with no supplies, no water, no shelter, no cell phone.  What’s worse, no one had a clue we were here. 

We trudged out a huge S.O.S. in the clearing, we dug a hole down into the snow pack just big enough for the two of us to crawl inside, we set our brightly colored snowboards out where we hoped they’d be visible.  We crawled headfirst into the dark, freezing hole.  We grabbed some branches and packed the sugary-like snow desperately into the branches, trying to cover the opening.  It was dark in the snow cave.  It was silent.  It was growing dark outside, as we saw the light growing dim through the patched-over opening of the snow cave.  It was insanity.  Both Jennie and I had these desperate urges to just jump back out of this hellish hole and keep trudging.  But instinctively we knew we would die if we did that.  We knew the temps were going to be freezing that night and we would freeze, in our wet gear, traveling in the woods with no light.  We didn’t know if we were making the best decision.  But we had made it and we committed to stick to it.  When light came in the morning, we would start hiking again.

So we thought.  Thus ensued one of the most insane nights of survival I could ever have imagined.  Temperatures that night, we later learned, dropped to -11 degrees, -21 with windchill.  Negative 21!  Thankfully we were protected from the wind in our makeshift shelter.  We were not warm, however.  We were shivering convulsively.  We were wet and laying on wet snow in total darkness.  We were thirsty.

There is so much that happened in that dark hole alone together that evening.  There are a whole host of miracles that happened, people who were working and searching and sacrificing out in the dark cold, hundreds searching for us, due to my quick-thinking brother and friend, Chris, who called in search and rescue.  But it’s not the purpose for which I write to you today.  A story for another time.  But as morning began to dawn, we couldn’t have guessed that our energy would be vastly depleted just from trying to survive and keep warm through the night.  Our muscles were so tired from convulsing and shivering that we couldn’t imagine even walking.  We realized that having gone almost a full 24 hours without water or food and yet expending all the physical strength we could muster to hike and to stay warm had left us completely depleted.  Helpless.

We realized we were waiting now to be found.  We realized there would be no way to hike out.  We realized we were so cold, so weak, so lost.  We were utterly dependent on the reckless hope that someone would be searching for us.  That someone would find us, and soon.

And this morning, thirteen years later, I sit here as snow softly falls in the mountains of North Carolina.  I sit here cozy in my bed tapping away on these keys, while my husband plays with and feeds our two precious children.  I sit here almost 30 years old.  I sit here, having been RESCUED.  I sit here as one who received grace on that fateful day, February 12th, 2001.

As God would have it, I was studying Genesis chapter 15 and Romans chapter 4 this morning.  My mind is reeling with what God was speaking to me, so bear with me, as I try to give words to it here.

I know what its like to be helpless.  I know what its like to be desperate.  I know what its like to realize you are about to face death soon unless someone comes through for you.  To know that you have reached the end of yourself and you cannot save yourself.  There is nothing you can do.  It is the most vulnerable and terrifying position to be in. 

It is the place where all pride and self-sufficiency falls away and grace alone can save.

But I’m all about pride and self-sufficiency.  You see, I grew up with a faulty and broken understanding of righteousness.  I grew up thinking that if I could be good enough, God would be pleased with me.  I grew up thinking somehow that I had to earn my way into His favor, and that when I sinned, I lost His love and favor.  And all my days, I have strived.

And then there’s Romans 4.  There’s Abraham.  A man who “believed God, and it was accounted to him as righteousness” (Rom. 4:3, Gen. 15:6).

“If Abraham was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not before God.  For what does the Scripture say?  Abraham believed God, and it was accounted to him for righteousness.  Now to him who works, the wages are not counted as grace but as debt.  But to him who does not work, but believes on Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is accounted for righteousness” (Rom. 4:2-5).

If our standing with God is based on our good works, if we can be good enough, then God owes us our wage, which is salvation, heaven.  We are good people who generally stay out of trouble so God is obligated to save us.  But what about those of us who know we are helplessly flawed??  What about those of us who cannot see inherent goodness in ourselves?  What about those of us who see that every inclination of our hearts is only evil continually?  That our pride, our selfishness, our self-protectiveness runs deep?  What about those of us who return over and over and over to our sin, like a dog to vomit?  What is the hope of salvation for us?  We need to be rescued.

If our standing with God is based on what GOD Himself has done, because God Himself knew that we would never be able to be good enough to stand before Him, then we would know that it is by faith.  It is by believing this truth and resting all our hope upon it that we will be saved.

“Therefore it is of faith, that it might be according to grace, so that the promise might be sure to all seed, not only to those who are of the law, but also to those who are of the faith of Abraham, who is the father of us all…in the presence of Him whom He believed–God, who gives life to the dead and calls those things which do not exist as though they did; who contrary to hope, in hope believed…He did not waver at the promise of God through unbelief, but was strengthened in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully convinced that what He had promised, He was also able to perform” (Rom.4:16,17-18,20-21).

What had God promised, that Abraham was convinced He would be able to perform?  Head back to Gen.15 and remember that God covenanted with Abraham to make a great nation from Abraham’s line, even though Abraham and Sarai, his wife, were old in age and barren.  God promised they would in fact have a son, an heir, through whom God would bring the Promised One, the Savior, who had been promised back in the Garden of Eden (Gen.3:15), whom all humanity had been waiting for and looking for since the fall of the first parents, Adam and Eve.  God covenanted with Abraham, He promised that He would rescue mankind, He promised that He would do it through Abraham’s family, and He alone took on both sides of the covenant agreement (see Gen.15:17).  God did not require Abraham to make covenant with Him, because God knew Abraham would never be able to hold up his end of the deal.  God made covenant with Abraham and covenanted to uphold both parties’ commitments.  He alone would do this.  Would Abraham believe?  God then told Abraham what would happen to His people, those descendants of Abraham, for the next 400 years (all of which was perfectly historically accurate), and foretold to Abraham that His plan would be to rescue the people once they were desperate and hopelessly in bondage/slavery to Egypt.  God’s plan was for Israel to inherit Canaan through God’s supernatural act of redemption from slavery.

You see, He knows we are helpless.  He knows we cannot be good.  But He allows us to experience that truth for ourselves physically in our lives, often to get into a place of physical helplessness, so that we make the connection to our spiritually helpless, lost state, apart from Christ.  We can do some good things in our lives, sure, but if we can be honest, we are prone to serve ourselves.  We are prone to greed, selfishness, hatred, bitterness, jealousy, sexual immorality, and on and on.  We are bent away from God, away from holiness.  We can try and be good some days, but we are never perfect.

And it hits me fresh, and it hits me hard this morning.

It isn’t the good-enough who inherit the kingdom of God.  It isn’t the people who do it all right who get to go to heaven.  It is those who believe.  It is those who hang all of their hope on Jesus. As Romans 4 says, “it is of faith that it might be according to grace” (vs. 16).  God wanted to show off the sufficiency of His GRACE.  If it were works, I could earn it.  I could lose it.  And God would be my debtor.  But as it stands, it is all of faith.  It is given to me, its a gift.  But I have to receive it.  I have to believe it in order to appropriate it.  And because of that truth, I am forever God’s gladdest debtor.

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So back to that freezing cold, blinding cold morning, thirteen years ago.  The first sound of hope that we heard was the blurry, distant chop-chop-chop of helicopter blades.  It barely pulled me out of the fog that I was in.  I could barely put two thoughts together to figure out what that vaguely familiar sound was.

It got closer.  And closer.  And closer until it was like a thunder roaring right over us.  Jennie burst through the roof of snow above us, screaming and waving wildly at the smiling faces of two men above us, circling over and over above us, just barely above the trees.  Soon, two men hiked down to us, two rescuers, who offered us snickers bars and some warm layers and helped us to hike to another clearling where we were able to board that helicopter and be rushed to Summit County hospital for treatment.  We exited that helicopter to be greeted by our dearest loved ones, whom we clung to.  We were greeted by several news stations.  And in the coming days we were interviewed over and over again, on the Today Show, in Teen People Magazine, in newspapers and women’s magazines.  It was incredible.

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What if we had said no to it all?  What if when those two rescuers showed up, we had said, “No I don’t believe you’re really here.  I don’t believe you really have my best interest at heart.  I don’t think you care to rescue me, I don’t believe you that right below this clearing is a large clearing where a helicopter is waiting for me.  I don’t believe that if I stay here in this dark hole, death is certain.  I think I can do it on my own.  I think I can be strong enough to get out of here.”  What if the gift that was offered, what if we refused it?  We had the FREEDOM to do that.  Those men could not have forced us to come to safety.  They could have given us many convincing proofs and arguments.  They could have pled with us.  But ultimately, we had to trust them, total strangers, we had to believe their word.  We had to place our lives in their hands.

We had to let them rescue us.

Because “rescue” implies submission, weakness, trust, dependency, helplessness.

Whoever you are, reading this today… that is the Good News of Jesus Christ.  He came for us.  He is God, who came from God, to make a way for humanity to get back to God, when we used our freedom to flee from Him.  But you must let Him rescue you.  You must believe that He is good, that He has a plan to redeem you, and you must put your hand in His and let Him lead you to safety.

The Christian life is not about being a good person.  NO!!!!  The Christian life is about placing your trust in Jesus, who was perfect, and believing He is the Savior of the world, and letting Him rescue you.

Will you do that today?  Will you believe?

“By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us—set us right with him, make us fit for him—we have it all together with God because of our Master Jesus. And that’s not all: We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God’s grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise.”  (Rom.5:1-2 MSG)

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A special word of thanks goes out to all those who worked and sacrificed and prayed that night on our behalf.  To my parents, my brother Andrew and Chris Harrison, Bill & Cindy Scott, Littleton Bible Chapel, Dan Burnett {our burliest mountain man}, Pat Mahaney {the pilot}, Mike Everest {the scout who found our tracks on a whim}, Bill Barwick, Loveland Ski Patrol, Alpine Search & Rescue team.  Because of what you did, I am here today with my precious children and husband.  I am forever indebted and “thank you” is simply not enough.  You all are my heroes forever!

the reason of God

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though our sins be as scarlet,
they shall be white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall be as wool.
isa. 1:18

in His sight, covered in the precious blood of Jesus, you are clean.  you are spotless.  stand in that rest alone this weekend!