Day by Day

[Soldier4Christ]

"Parking Lot Meditations"

I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection. Philippians 3:10
   

Easter dawn found us sitting on metal folding chairs in the church parking lot wearing jeans and sweatshirts in the chilly air. What a contrast! The previous Easter our church in Chicago had heralded Easter with a brilliant burst of trumpets and brass, rumbling tympani, melodic cello, and the magnificent swell of a pipe organ. The ornate chancel was abloom with tulips, daffodils, and iris, while the choir sang from Handel’s joyous Messiah.

Now we were stiffly seated on our flowerless, black-topped parking lot. Suddenly, as the sun broke through the clouds, our small family of faith sat in a pool of light. My rock hard heart that had been focusing on the differences softened. Greetings of “Christ is risen; He is risen indeed” were exchanged. We heard the Gospel of Christ’s victory over death. We sang songs of joy; we shared our Lord’s Supper. Everything important was present in that parking lot.

Throughout the world today church bells ring, choirs sing, and smiles reign as we celebrate the resurrection of our Savior Jesus Christ. While it is a joy to celebrate with brassy bold trumpets and robed processionals, we can know the joy of salvation in whatever form our worship of the risen Christ takes around the world, in remote villages or dense forests, in anonymous cities or desert battlefields. I know, because the Holy Spirit has no limits! At Easter sunrise, the Spirit visited a plain parking lot, filling our hearts with resurrection joy.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Faithful Followers"

Some women were watching from a distance. Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome. In Galilee these women had followed Him and cared for His needs. Many other women who had come up with Him to Jerusalem were also there. Mark 15:40 41
   

When I took my dyed eggs to the church on Saturday morning for the Easter egg hunt, several women were in the kitchen preparing a meal. Other women were in the sanctuary, working with the children for the Easter play; others were practicing with the choir. Women are active members of my church––of every church I’ve belonged to––teaching Sunday school, taking food to the sick, greeting visitors, raising mission funds, directing choirs, and more. Our churches depend on the service and Christ-like love of its women.

In the Passion, we see women who were faithful followers of Jesus, walking from Galilee to Calvary, caring for His needs and listening to His Gospel message. On Good Friday, women witnessed their beaten and bloody Lord, dying on the cross. Women watched while the stone crashed against the tomb, sealing the grave.

Surely grief overwhelmed their hearts as they returned home, remembering the last hours of their Lord’s bitter suffering and death. Like us, overwhelmed by the grief of our own nature, they wait for Easter dawn.

In the morning, the women will walk to the tomb, burdened with sorrow. In the morning, they will hear the joyous news of salvation. In the morning, their sorrow will turn to joy! Together we sing, “Our Redeemer lives!”

[Soldier4Christ]

"Easter Is Coming!"

Jesus said to her, “I am the Resurrection and the Life. He who believes in Me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in Me will never die.” John 11:25-26
   

The pastor in the next town had been feeling tired. Repeated trips to the doctor for over a year showed nothing. Then came the dreaded call: “You have cancer.” Chemotherapy and radiation attacked the cancer, but the disease, so long undetected, spread despite medicine. He didn’t have long to live. Despite pain, exhaustion, and illness, he kept regular office hours and led worship, donning red suspenders when he lost weight. As the disease progressed relentlessly, his ministry took on new urgency: “I’m finding my faith is real; God is present and I know I am not alone,” he told his congregation.

The pastor’s last months were a dramatic picture of faith in word and deed. He counseled, cared for, and communed his congregation while showing compassion for the poor. His abiding faith shone brightly through his ill health and impending death. In one of his last sermons, preached during Lent, he said, “I know I am facing my own Good Friday any day now, but I thank God that through Jesus Christ, my Easter is coming!”

The pastor died before seeing the calendar’s Easter Day, though he surely greeted his Easter Lord. His funeral, in a packed church, was a celebration of life that ended with a jazz band playing his request: “When the Saints Go Marching In.” As tears streamed down our faces, we all joined in, proud—through God’s grace in Christ—to be in that number of sinners turned saints who will go marching in.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Christ’s Command"

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know you are My disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:34-35
   

I was not happy. I had been assigned to drive to our rural mission one hour away and was worried I wouldn’t make it back for the Maundy Thursday service. Our outreach worker took me to visit a family living in a trailer off a dirt road in one of the poorest counties in the nation. On the way she told me about the family. The boys’ father worked 12-hour shifts for minimum wage and could barely make ends meet. The family was grieving over the recent death of the boy’s mother: she was 35. Earlier in the week the boys—ages 10 and 6—had walked a mile to their neighbor’s house to beg for food. The neighbor fed them, but had little to spare, so she called our mission.

We spent time with the family, gave them food, and helped pay some bills. I got to church on time and as the pastor read the Gospel, I realized that in my rush, I had almost neglected the Lord’s work. Maundy means “command” and is based on Jesus’ words to His disciples: “Love one another.” He gives the power to love through His body and blood, the Holy Supper He instituted this night.

God had given me an opportunity to love—feeding hungry, motherless children—and my response had been resentment. Knocked to my knees by my sins of selfishness, confession filled my heart. Cleansed by Jesus, I go forward to serve.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Scar Stories"

On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” After He said this, He showed them His hands and side. John 20:19-20
   

While playing a game as a child, I locked my brother out of the house. Trying to shove his way in, his arm went through the window. Shards of glass sliced deep into his arm. The doctor said if it gone a hair deeper, he would have lost the use of his fingers. It required 28 stitches and it left a scar in the shape of a “U,” nearly one inch all around. Every time I looked at his stitches I got sick, thinking of how I had hurt him. After the cut healed, the scar reminded me—and still does—of the terrible day.

Most of us have scars to show and stories to tell. Scars tell of hard times and bad choices, of how life changes in a split second. And scars tell stories of victory and miraculous healing, how glass cuts through the skin but just misses tendons. Scars—visible physical marks—tell the stories of God’s healing power.

The scars of Jesus show the greatest healing power of all. Jesus wears His love for us in the nail prints. His scars show our sin, His suffering and death for that sin, and His victorious resurrection.

Scars tell us that from adversity comes strength; from injury comes healing. Jesus’ scars tell us that we are forgiven and given life eternal. His scars tell the greatest story in the world.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Dogwood Blossoms"

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. 1 Peter 1:3-4
   

One of our Bible Clubs was held on the front steps of a family’s trailer deep in the piney woods. Five children and their four cousins lived up a red-dirt hill. One mild March day, dogwood trees danced in full lacey bloom, covering the ground with snowy white petals.

I put my lesson aside and picked up a twig of dogwood blossoms. Using the flowering tree’s beautiful blooms, I shared the Good News of Christ from the “legend of the dogwood.” The flower of the dogwood is white, reminding us of Christ’s purity and perfection. Each flower has four petals, forming the shape of a cross. On the outer edge of each petal there are “nail prints,” spots of brown rusty stains. The center of the flower is a crown of thorns with bright red clustered fruit in the center representing the blood of Christ.

Right outside their door, the beauty of God’s creation shone with spring’s promise of new life, just as His Word offers new life in Christ. In His Creation and in His Word, He shows His love in Christ, blooming all around. As soon as we finished the lesson, the children gathered their own dogwood blossoms and ran to tell their mother the story of the dogwood. Then they took off down the hill to share dogwood evangelism with their neighbors.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Passion for the Lord"

But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:5
   

Our next door neighbors lived in a house full of rough-and-tumble little boys who often played in the rocky dirt outside our back door. During one Bible Club, I taught them about Jesus dying on the cross for our sins. Six-year-old Donovan responded, “That’s sad what they did to Jesus. It makes me want to cry.”

I stopped short. How many times had I told this story without thinking (much less feeling) about our Savior’s suffering for us? Yet this child, no stranger to tough times, felt pain for our Lord on his first hearing. The power of the Gospel surpassed my feeble telling.

Last year the movie “The Passion of the Christ” was released. The film, which opened on Ash Wednesday 2004, brought to the attention of the nation—even the world—the last week of Jesus’ life. While many debated showing the gruesome details of Christ’s suffering, I thought about Donovan and his tearful reaction to my flannelgraph presentation. He needed to know a Suffering Savior, who had stretched out His arms in love and died for us.

As adults we too need to know the cost of Christ’s obedience. The movie was a constant Lenten reminder of the darkness that fell on earth when God’s only Son suffered and died. This Holy Week we too can think on what we did to Jesus, and hope and pray that it makes us want to cry—with pain for His suffering for our sin and with joy for the redemption He won for us.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Listening to the Palms"

Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation ... His rule will extend from sea to sea. Zechariah 9:9-10
   

One of my favorite winter vacations as a child was to Florida. The 26-hour drive was a key to the adventure, the long hours adding to our anticipation, along with my parent’s promise: “We’re almost there.” As soon as we crossed the Florida state line, we could immediately smell it. The humid salt air was unlike anything we knew in Indiana. We couldn’t see anything, but we could hear the exotic palm trees, so unlike any tree up north, swishing in the ocean air. We had arrived!

The swaying palm branches and shouts of “Hosanna” this holy Palm Sunday tell us we too have arrived. We have arrived at the holiest week of the year: Our Lord’s Passion. Although you can’t see it, you can sense the salty tension in the air as the plot to get rid of our Savior grows (see Matthew 21:15). How quickly the “Lord Save Us” salutations turn to cries of “Crucify Him!” Today we wave our own palm branches, ancient symbols of victory and triumph, knowing that Jesus is King, who reigns forever, from sea to sea. First though, we will pass through the long night of His suffering.

The first morning in Florida, my brothers and I would race to the beach to see the wide blue ocean, so powerful and vast. So too on Easter morn our Beautiful Savior, powerful and limitless, stands to greet us. First, we must pass through days of darkness ahead. But hold onto the promise: We’re almost there!

[Soldier4Christ]

"Opposites"

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For everything in the world–the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does–comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever. 1 John 2:15-17
   

One of the games the young children love playing was the opposite game. They turn their shirts inside out or backwards and say the opposite of what they mean. “We’ll have ice cream for dinner and tuna for dessert,” says one six-year-old. “I LOVE to do homework!” says a seven-year-old. “I’m rich and the banks have no money!” exclaims another. Kids love the flip-flop silliness of the game. On opposite day, adult “logic” gets stood on its head.

Some days I feel like I’m still playing the opposite game. Our world seems topsy-turvy. Sports heroes and movie stars make millions; missionaries struggle for support. We are measured by how we look, where we live, what we own. People with beautiful spirits are often ignored. Our families, people who should love and care for us, can neglect and abuse us.

Looking at the cross, we see the absolute opposite world: Jesus Christ, perfect Son of God, is crucified by the crowd of sinners, including me.

During Lent, we remember that Christ redeems us out of our sin and selfishness to forgiveness and discipleship. Through the cross, He gives us power to live “opposite” the world.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Humility"

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. Philippians 2:3-4
   

When Samuel, a fourth grader, walked onto the stage at the end of the school year, I wished for drum roll, cymbals, and fireworks. Though there wasn’t even lukewarm applause as he received his perfect attendance award, his achievement was worthy of a standing ovation.

Samuel is one of seven children who look after themselves nights while their mom works at a chicken factory. He scrounges for clothes to wear and often doesn’t even have a pencil. Schoolwork does not come easy and he is too shy to ask for help. In February, his family moved out of their house after a fire.

For me, getting to school meant my parents, who did not work in a factory all night, woke me. They provided clean clothes and breakfast. If I missed the bus, my dad took me. We were never homeless from a fire.

Samuel humbled me. Every day he competed in the “Olympics” of hurdle-jumping to get to school. Every day—rain, shine … or fire—he made it.

God calls us to humbly look out for the interests of others, I believe, so that we can learn from them how to “make a way out of no way” through Jesus, the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Lessons from a Three-Year-Old"

O people of Zion, who live in Jerusalem, you will weep no more. How gracious He will be when you cry for help! As soon as He hears, He will answer you. Isaiah 30:19
   

My friend’s three-year-old and I were at the park, playing on the swings and slides. When it was time to leave, he didn’t want to go. This he communicated with an ear-piercing, hair-raising scream. I was surprised as he is an amazingly articulate child with nearly perfect manners.

I know that part of the scream was exhaustion and hunger. We had been playing for two hours and he was too excited to eat the lunch we had brought. While he thought he wanted to play longer, he really needed to rest. And eat. Both he repeatedly refused.

After I took him home, I reflected on the surprising jolt. How does a tiny guy communicate with big people? He had something to say, his words weren’t having the desired effect, so it was time to increase the volume. I thought about my own conversations with God: How often do my silent prayers seem to melt into empty air? Aren’t there times I feel I need to shout to get God’s attention?

My Lenten journey, full of bumps and bruises, can be a time to pick up the volume. Too often my disappointments are masked in silence. I know there is nothing God can’t hear, even feelings too full to speak (see Romans 8:26). But He also listens to my walloping wails. In Christ, who cried out to God in His suffering, I hear the passion God so richly deserves. In Christ, I cry out, knowing He hears and He answers (see Psalm 34:17).

[Soldier4Christ]

"Without Water"

O God, You are my God, earnestly I seek You; my soul thirsts for You, my body longs for You, in a dry and weary land where there is no water. Psalm 63:1
   

Mary buys water for her three children—ages 5, 6, and 8—bucket-by-bucket from her neighbor. The plumbing at her house is broken and her landlord won’t fix it. Willie Lee, 83, whose arthritic knees swell up twice their size, gets her water from a spigot in her front yard. Her house doesn’t have plumbing. The year is 2004, and Mary and Willie Lee are my neighbors in rural Alabama. Families and the vulnerable elderly in my own community are living without one of life’s essentials—water.

I take water for granted. A flick of the knob and it’s plentiful, safe, and cheap. But I rarely drink it if I have a choice. In the same way, I too often take my Living Water—my Savior Jesus Christ—for granted. In sin, I rely on my own abilities and choose my own way.

During Lent, I confess my self-centeredness and ask for Christ’s forgiveness. I pray for the desire to drink deeply of the wells of salvation. My Lenten journey reminds me that I cannot live one day without the Water of Life He offers in His sacrificial death and victorious resurrection. I long to be one of the blessed who “hunger and thirst for righteousness” (Matthew 5:6).

Water lines to all homes are not a reality in rural Alabama. But I can take Christ’s Living Water to Mary, Willie Lee, and everyone I meet.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Invisible"

On a Sabbath Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues, and a woman was there who had been crippled by a spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and could not straighten up at all. When Jesus saw her, He called her forward and said to her, "Woman, you are set free from your infirmity.” Luke 13:10-12
   

My first volunteer job in rural Mississippi was as janitor at the small Christian school where my husband taught. I was sure this humble position would teach me true servanthood.

When I visited the school, the teachers always said “hello” and shared stories about the kids. But when I showed up to clean, no one acknowledged me. With a mop in my hand and a scarf on my head, I became invisible. My invisibility opened my eyes to people in my own neighborhood who were “invisible”: A child who wandered the streets without supervision, a man who lived in a shack, an elderly woman with bad feet.

Jesus saw the bent woman, someone who was invisible to many around her. When He healed her, none of the church leaders rejoiced. Instead, they criticized Him for healing on the Sabbath. Jesus sees us all, daughters and sons of Abraham, with an eye especially on the poor, the crippled, the imprisoned. His eye sees me, no matter how invisible I am to those around me. Through His redeeming love, I see the invisible people in my neighborhood.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Trust"

The disciples woke Him and said to Him, “Teacher, don't you care if we drown?” He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. Mark 4:38-39
   

As a child, I took swimming lessons at the local YMCA and spent summers at the lake. I earned my lifeguard certification as a camp counselor, so I was confident taking children from my Mississippi neighborhood swimming at a local lake. The children, not good swimmers, played happily near the shore. Then we linked arms and ventured out, me leading. We happily splashed through waist-high water until I stepped down to find no ground under me. We must have been near the drop-off and I had taken one wrong step.

Suddenly all four of us were flailing in water over our heads. The children panicked and grabbed me, forcing me down every time I came up for air. No one could help us—I was the best swimmer in our group—and any rescue attempt would have been dangerous. Finally, with unexplained strength, I pushed the children toward shore and we got our footing. All was well. Since then I’ve learned to use life preservers.

I’ve also learned that too often my “trust” in God is really trust in my own ability or in shallow water. Martin Luther said the same of disciples’ trust: They thought they trusted Jesus, but they really trusted the calm water, clear sky, and their own competence with boats. “They were unaware that their faith was founded on what they could see,” he wrote. During Lent our trust is turned heavenward. We turn a blind eye to the world and open our eyes of faith to Jesus, Calmer of storms, Saver of souls.

[Soldier4Christ]

"Sound of Music"

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. Colossians 3:16
   

Since my junior choir days, I have loved to sing. I’m glad I belong to a church where worship services are filled with singing—in hymns, liturgy, and choir anthems. I’m happy I grew up in a church with a beautiful pipe organ, an organist who played J.S. Bach preludes, and a choir director who taught us many kinds of religious music.

Over the years, I have sometimes become complacent about hymn singing. I never could have guessed how that would change, surrounded today by a congregation that is a family of singers! We sing everything enthusiastically. Though small—about 140 worshipers each Sunday—we boast five choirs and an inspiring range of songs, from familiar hymns and spirituals to Gospel songs and music by G.F. Handel. We sing through Holy Communion, when even the heartiest of singers usually straggle off. When learning a new hymn, we sing with gusto.

There is something extraordinary about belonging to a singing congregation. It fills my heart with joy to be surrounded by a church family that lifts every voice and sings praises to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

During Lent, the hymns of the church reflect the somber Passion of our Lord. For our church, this is another opportunity to raise our voices and sing with the prophet Isaiah: “The LORD is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation” (Isaiah 12:2).