I was 14 years old, buried in a heap of fractions when one of my best friends bounded into second period math.
“I want arms like Linda Hamilton!” she said. My friend Jaime went to the movies weekly with her dad and seemed to know what was trending long before the rest of us. Months later the film migrated from the Silver Screen to the TV screen—and that’s when I got to witness firsthand the Sarah Connor of Terminator 2: Judgment Day. I’ve loved her--arms and all, ever since.
“I called Linda. She didn’t want to be the little waitress she played the first time. She said, ‘I want to be crazy.’ ” James Cameron, producer, director and co-writer of the film said of Hamilton regarding the second installment. Arnold Schwarzenegger was already on board—Cameron wasn’t interested in recasting the role knowing the story centered around the relationship of Sarah and her son. And that’s the first reason why she rocks.
She was a committed mother. Literally.
In 1984 a human soldier, Kyle Reese, is sent from the future to protect a young Sarah from a cyborg assassin who has been sent to kill her because her son John (not yet conceived) will lead the human resistance against the self-aware machines. The scripted future plays out as Kyle and Sarah spend one night together. Months later, John Connor is born.
Sarah loves her boy fiercely but she’s not packing healthy lunches and taking him to T-ball. Instead, she’s preparing him for war. Weapons training, computer hacking, engine repair and constant preaching that one day he’s going to be a great military leader. John finds the whole story incredulous. When Sarah’s deep convictions land her in Pescadero State Hospital and John in foster care—she remains unapologetic. John is resentful.
As a mother I am in awe of her determination not to raise a nice boy, but a leader who would save the world. Her parenting strategy was singular and had glaring deficits—but her eyes were fixed on future glory.
She was more concerned about people’s lives than their opinions.
“Three billion human lives ended on August 29, 1997. The survivors of the nuclear fire called the war Judgment Day. They lived only to face a new nightmare, a war against the machines.”
Sarah saw Hell and it changed everything.
With this new perspective, she was like a prophet warning of impending doom if change didn’t occur. The police didn’t believe her. Neither did Dr. Silberman and his cronies, or the orderly who sexually assaulted her while in restraints (the one she later beat senseless with a broken mop handle). Even her beloved son doubted her story. She paid for her beliefs by being ridiculed, incarcerated and separated from John.
But Sarah wasn’t looking for converts, fans or likes. She was trying to save three billion lives.
This was a woman of conviction and passion. She knew what she believed and if she had to go down, she’d go down fighting.
She was resourceful, focused and forgiving.
It’s been said when people really want to do something, they find a way and when they don’t, they find an excuse. Sarah Connor had no time to whine. She used 6 months of confinement in a California State mental hospital to build a physique that would match her mental acuity. (Remember the chin-up scene?) She used a syringe of rat poison as a hostage-taking weapon. She sought no comfort in food or drink or shopping or sex because personal comfort was unwanted if the world was ending. She wasn’t a woman who delighted in distraction—but extreme focus.
Despite originally being her enemy, Connor partnered with the “800 Series” Terminator (Arnold Schwarzenegger) to defeat the nearly indomitable T-1000 (Robert Patrick). Forgiveness is a weapon as powerful as any and by collaborating with Schwarzenegger’s character, she was able to accomplish a goal she couldn’t have alone.
She discovered the value of human life.
Anyone who’s felt passion’s flame also knows the blinding quality of its light. In pursuit of something noble and good, we’re often blinded and can become what we abhor.
It occurs to Sarah that Judgment Day could be avoided if she murders Miles Dyson, the Cyberdyne Systems engineer who further develops the technology that becomes Skynet and initiates the holocaust. Kill him, save everyone else.
If you could go back into time and put a bullet in the body of a young Adolf Hitler before he had the chance to kill two-thirds of the Jewish population in Europe, would you? Would his murder, in cold blood, be justified?
Sarah Connor ultimately says, no.
Imagine a balance scale with all the people who are or would be on one side and a single person on the other. Imagine the big group of people are victims and the lone wolf is a potential killer. The scales remain balanced.
It seems that fatally condemning someone before their violent acts have been committed or murdering one to save many—doesn’t work in Connor’s mind and heart. But that’s not to say she didn’t try.
First, she used a CAR-15 laser-sighted sniper rifle to take Dyson out. When that failed, she charged his house with a .45 caliber side-arm and shot him at close range, in the shoulder. Seeing the terror in the man’s eyes as his wife and son looked on reminded Sarah of her humanity. Life matters. She is not a terminator.
In 1999, The Matrix gave us freedom-fighter Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss). In 1997 Demi Moore famously shaved her head and got jacked in G.I. Jane but back in 1991, a character like Sarah Connor had never been seen. Her power wasn’t in her beauty—but her convictions. She didn’t sacrifice it all for love of a man—but love of humanity.
She was flawed. And aggressive, untrusting, struggling with both legal and mental health issues, yet she didn’t seek her solution in a glass of wine, greater self-care, a vacation or a quick tryst. She didn’t ‘Netflix and chill’ or compare her life to peers on social media. She didn’t spend energy hating her body or complaining about loneliness or bemoaning the state of her affairs. She gave her life to something greater.
And she’s coming back!
A new story to tell.
Schwarzenegger, Eastwood, Willis, Stallone and others have had epic action-hero moments in their silver years—but I can’t recall a 63-year-old woman given the same honor. Hamilton and Cameron are changing the paradigm—again.
Linda Hamilton sat out three Terminator reboots: Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003), Terminator Salvation (2009) and Terminator Genysis (2015), though since James Cameron wasn’t an integral part of any, I’m not sure they should be considered part of the cannon.
Hamilton never thought she’d return to the franchise, preferring instead of a “quiet, normal life” beyond the borders of Tinsel Town. But she “saw an opportunity” and there was a “deeper story to tell, at (her) age.”
Terminator: Dark Fate opens November 2019. In the trailer we see frighteningly advanced terminator pursuing a young woman and a girl. All appears lost, until an 80-Series Toyota Land Cruiser (with an aftermarket brush guard) squeals to a halt and an armed and determined Sarah Connor steps out.
She's dressed for the occasion: all black fatigues accessorized with a Serbu Super Shorty shotgun and leg-mounted holster, a few grenades, a small revolver and the absolutely necessary LAW rocket launcher. In the war against machines, it works every time.
She’s a “bad grandma with a shotgun,” Cameron says of his muscled muse.
To be clear, the world doesn’t need more literal Sarah Connors. Her lack of interpersonal skills, singular focus and legal woes would bury her positive attributes but as an icon, the Sarah Connor/Linda Hamilton legacy is profound.
She isn’t a superhero with Amazon blood coursing through her veins. She wasn’t born with Mystique’s shapeshifting abilities or Black Widow’s super-human strength. Sarah Connor was extraordinary, precisely because she was ordinary. Even her name belies her normalcy. Yet this common waitress, when given a revelatory vision of the future and against insurmountable odds—becomes the woman she was destined to be. And saves the world.
The sound of sobbing overflowed from the backseat, spilling into the atmosphere. My own eyes had become fountains as a host of emotions, many never previously encountered, coursed down my cheeks. I’m not even sure how my husband got us home that day—his heart like a team of wild horses had long since gotten away.
Our family laughed loudly on Space Mountain at Disney World. We belt out song lyrics in our living room. We pray together. Laugh together. Work to solve problems and a thousand other things families do. But this was the first time we wept together.
It wasn’t the loss of a family pet or the passing of a beloved grandparent that had gripped our hearts. In some ways, it wasn’t a loss at all. We had all participated in a miracle. A big one and a bunch of smaller ones. And when you encounter God’s Spirit in such a way—something has got to give.
We were driving away from a tiny rented row house. Not the kind of home you would see featured on HGTV. The kitchen was only the size of a large closet. The living room, family room, bedroom were one. The hot water tended to run cold. And yet in this modest space lived a woman, a champion who fought for life and clarity and freedom. And won.
We were there to deliver the prize: Her daughter.
Many people outside the world of foster care assume bonding with and then returning a child to their birth family is a heartache too great to bear and fear of farewell likely keeps families from serving in this capacity.
The War Between Fear & Love
John, “the apostle of love” writes perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18). I remind myself often that the opposite is also true: fear casts out love.
I’ve never said goodbye to a child we’ve cared for without tears in my eyes—even when their leaving is the result of answered prayers; even when they’re leaving at our request. The emotional impact reverberates through us all—child, biological family, foster family and our extensions (grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, teachers, friends, co-workers, etc.) who have walked portions of the journey with us. Regardless, I can say with confidence, loving is always worth the cost. Always.
But this isn’t a story of overcoming and reunifying. It’s a story of transformation. And not from the perspective of the bio or foster parents or the child in foster care, but of the foster siblings. And the renovation of hearts who have only experienced the good things in life.
You Have Been Loved, to Love
We have three biological children. They were loved before they were born. I imagined them long before they came to life—and I named them. Prayed for them. Called them forward.
They were more than we could have hoped for. And like every parent who adores their children we offered them opportunities to develop. Our home was filled with melodies as little fingers plunked the piano and tiny voices begged not to have to practice. The deep romantic swell of the cello was there too. And the beat of drums. There was gymnastics and seasons of traveling to competitions. Then musical theater and every Disney ballad sung on and off key throughout the house. School work. Homework. Housework. Church. Chores. Choices. The stuff of life.
We had done a great job of building them up and loving them strong. But we hadn’t yet made space for them to practice doing the same—to love others strong, build others up. As parents, the call was clear. It was time for us turn around and go back.
For us, that meant a ministry of foster care. It meant our kids would be friends with the kids of doctors, pastors and entrepreneurs but also addicts, felons and those on state assistance. It meant that they would study well in school knowing that we’re not primarily seeking A’s but to develop abilities to serve others.
Our kids would have to share time, attention and resources sacrificially. Practically, this looked like sharing their bedrooms, toys and time with us. Getting up a little earlier or going to bed a little later to help manage a house that at times was exploding with children and the needs of children. They answered difficult and sometimes insensitive questions from peers who didn’t understand why our family looked different or what foster care really means.
And we’ve witnessed heart-expanding beauty. Like the time our hours-new foster daughter accompanied me to the gym to watch practice and our daughter’s entire gymnastics team (who had been anticipating our new arrival) stopped practice to smile, wave and introduce themselves. Or watching our teenage son scoop up his two-year-old foster sister and play silly games with her just to make her giggle. Or hearing our children call non-biological “placements” who came to our home as strangers, brother, sister. This is inclusion. This is love.
In varying degrees, we’ve watched our biological children move from being self-focused, peer-pleasing receivers to compassionate givers, leaders, who have the capacity to make decisions, walk independently and have a deeper understanding of their purpose in the world.
They’ve developed resiliency, empathy, responsibility while being able to witness, not experience the first-hand effects of society’s most devouring beasts. Drug and alcohol abuse. Unsafe sexual practices. Homelessness. Domestic Violence. Poverty. I’ve seen this miracle repeated in the homes of our friends who foster also.
Our biological children have become better humans because of foster care.
Honestly, my husband and I don’t know how to raise compassionate, grateful, Christ-loving human beings who live sacrificially and love fully. But we can create space for these attributes to flourish.
When our daughters were learning back-handsprings and stride-circles in gymnastics or our son was learning scales on the cello—it wasn’t the occasional comment or demand “You should really do it like this” that helped them learn. It was practice in the gym or on the instrument. It was time. It required their attention, effort, dedication and passion. And for us parents, it required commitment and money.
So why do we think merely telling our children to be grateful or demanding they act with compassion will do anything to transform their hearts? It’s impossible. That’s not how people learn. That’s not how we change. Furthermore, we do a disservice to our kids when we make their lives as cushy and comfortable as possible because that’s not an accurate portrayal of life. Life is harsh and for some, extremely so.
Creating space where parents and children are compelled to practice soul-skills is where power is forged. That’s where transformation and growth flourishes. It’s the garden where love blooms.
It’s difficult. Messy. Loud. Frustrating. Uncertain. Frightening. And necessary.
Weeping with my family after returning their sister, our daughter of eleven months, to her mother was a pivotal moment in our family’s history, legacy. We all loved that child, according to our roles in her life and she changed us. Made us better. Many years later and my soul is still bearing fruit from our time together.
There are many ways to rescue. It may be formal or informal, for a season or a few, but let me encourage you parents—the ones who love their biological children, and have given them everything possible, to allow them to receive what you cannot give. Consider becoming a foster family. The gains and losses will transform the hearts of those you love best in the couple of ways I mentioned and 10,000 others that time will reveal. Consider making space for your children to learn what you cannot teach—lessons the soul and heart must experience for itself. Consider creating space for one more.
There is much in life you cannot know—even fewer things you can know well enough to perform proficiently or understand well enough to explain. It’s the finite condition of the human being. We are limited. Amazing, but limited nonetheless.
The good news though—indeed very good news, is that we can know God. That reality should cause a geyser of gratitude, humility and relief to gush from within.
God is not made of the stuff we are. In fact, God wasn’t made at all—he simply is. Absolute reality. The first sentence in the first book of the Bible is Genesis, Bereshit, in Hebrew. It plainly states, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”
It is a rock-solid foundation on which a comprehensive theological structure will stand. It can be accepted or rejected, neither action adding to or subtracting from its veracity.
“This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill – the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill – you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.” Morpheus to Neo in The Matrix, 1999
Neo had questions—and assuming you’ve taken the proverbial red pill, you do too. The essentials will be answered but others you’ll wait for. Waiting for revelation, that’s another phenomenon of the human condition. We can’t know it all, understand it all or experience it all at once. We are supposed to chew, and slowly—swallowing the nutritious and spitting out the gristle.
You can know God, because God has initiated revelation of himself. He already knows you. Indeed, he’s always known you. Now it’s your turn. Person meet your creator! This is the most valuable relationship you’ll ever have.
“Wait!” you say. “I’ve got questions. I’m not sure God is real. Or good. If he wants a relationship with me than why have I suffered, doubted, feared or been oblivious like I have?”
In the beginning God.
The Story of All, isn't about you. Not in the way you want to think. You're a unique part of creation though and get to image God in your neck of the world.
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Psalm 19:1
All that exists beyond your window is pointing to and telling of its maker. The trees full of leaves or barren of leaves. The flowers in their glory and demise. The breeze that blows gently or fiercely. The seasons in their rotation. Gravitational force. Thermal Energy. Other people.
The infinite doesn’t fit inside the finite. We can’t squeeze complete knowledge of God into our bitty selves any more than a pail can hold the Pacific. But we can begin to hydrate our parched hearts—Christ promised as much. Here’s four ways God has initiated revelation of himself.
1. God reveals himself through the natural world. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. Romans 1:20
According to Paul the author of Romans, we learn that even though God is invisible—his goodness, namely his eternal power and divine nature have been seen, on some level, by everyone, always. That is staggering! A honeybee in lavender and a skyscraper in Dubai testify to God’s power and divinity. Furthermore, this revelation extends to all people groups—from modern Americans to Norse seafarers to Babylonian kings.
2. God reveals himself through conscience. My children and their friends were sledding recently and were interrupted by older children who were vaping and cussing. They didn’t feel comfortable, came home and told me as much. In our bible study time I asked how they knew cussing and vaping weren’t normative and they were wrong for not participating. Their expressions were priceless!
We could ask this question of ourselves. Why is rape wrong? On what basis are school shootings evil? Why do we cringe or weep upon learning of the abuse of a child? How do we know the rapist, shooter and abuser are acting reprehensibly and it’s not the other way around? They are living out “their truth” “following their heart,” “doing what they want and not caring what others think.” Why aren't we celebrating their ability to throw off the repressive conventions of society? (I feel gross even writing this.)
Romans 1:20 works again. We’ve clearly perceived the divinity of God woven into life and it bears witness to truth. Humans are valuable because they are made by an infinitely valuable creator. God requires our love and we show our love for him by loving people. Raping, murdering and abusing the people God made is inconsistent with love—and therefore wrong.
3. God reveals himself through the Bible. There was a time before God’s word and law was written and codified. There was a time when there were only five books. A time when prophets were speaking on behalf of God and scribes were writing holy texts and people had to wait for revelation. And there’s today where biblical translations and formats abound. NASB, ESV, NLT and non-English translations in Mandarin, Tamil, Arabic and 666 other languages. (That was correct as of 2017, let's hope for a new translation soon!) There are phone apps and websites dedicated to accessibility of God’s Word.
This is good! The Bible was made to be translated. How else could the multitude representing every nation and language in Revelation 7:9 exist? God’s desire to be known is no secret. God initiated contact with one man, grew a family, built a race and extended grace to all the families of the earth.
Yet despite these three revelatory invitations—the party isn’t as full as God desires. Something opposes the delivery and interpretation of knowledge: Sin. Or more specifically, God’s judgment against it.
This is bad. Soul cancer needn’t be acknowledged by its host to thrive. In truth, it grows fastest when undetected. Unsuspected. Ubiquitous.
Sin gouges out eyes and deafens truth’s cries. It causes us to exchange, repress and deny. It makes us forgetful and boastful. Selfish and illogical. It distorts. It defaces. It is diabolical.
So, we misinterpret the signs of the natural world. Instead of the sun pointing us to the Sun Maker, we worship the sun or throw our hands up and deny the existence of the Sun Maker altogether.
Our consciences become seared and callous. There was time when our heart was pricked and bled but we’ve learned to numb it—gag it, so it beats only to the rhythm of our will.
I define right and wrong. My will be done.
Sin is the impediment to knowing God. Creation can’t overcome it. Conscience won’t cure it. Even the inspired words of God, if inactivated by God’s Spirit fall before it. Sin needs a destroyer. A warrior unhindered, unashamed, untainted by sin’s darkening stain.
4. The epitome of God’s revelation about himself is his son, Jesus Christ.
You know that he appeared in order to take away sins, and in him there is no sin. 1 John 3:5
An intentional understatement. Christ brings clarity where there was confusion. Confidence where there was doubt. Courage where there was fear. Cleanliness where there was filth. Compassion where there was indifference.
Humanity may have exchanged God’s sober truth for sin’s drunken deception, but Christ our Redeemer came to exchange his righteousness for our rags. He is the only one who could bridge the chasm, eradicate the cancer and get everyone to the party.
Now we can know God the way we ought—first in part, one day in full.
Knowledge of God begets love of God. And loving God requires obedience. God defines good and evil. His will be done! Indeed, this is the essence of being God. And obedience to God—as unbelievable as it may sound, is freedom.
Christ sets us free from sin’s entanglements so we can resume our divine purpose. What is the chief end of man? To glorify God and enjoy him forever. *
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.
*Westminster Shorter Catechism
Bible Doctrine for Younger Children Book A, James W. Beeke
Systematic Theology, Wayne Grudem
Since this blog is dedicated to "finishing well" it'd be fair to think I'm all about striving for rewards and finish lines. And I am. What does it matter if you start strong but finish poorly? However, there is value in doing good for goodness sake.
This post was written for a weight loss blog, so it's not as churchy as other posts but the message stands. Hope it encourages you. Let me know what you think!
Weight loss is easy—said no one, ever. It takes a plan, discipline and endurance. It takes a real commitment to future glory while eschewing immediate gratification. It’s tough and once achieved, it’s valuable. Even more so when it’s sustainable.
The desire to lose weight/make healthier food choices/fit into favorite jeans/look good on a beach/ reduce medication is as common as a Honda Odyssey in a school drop-off line—so why do so many people struggle to make better choices when they know it’ll get them where they long to be?
The answers are varied and nuanced but one thing I’ve seen—and it applies as much to weight loss goals as financial, relational or spiritual goals—is that most times, all people really want is the reward.
We seek to be debt free but make another Target run. We desire more connection with our spouse but choose not to be kind when we’re in a mood. We want to discern the voice of God but find Facebook more appealing than putting our faces in the Bible. We want healthy, fit bodies but have no desire to modify our food choices—forever and change the way we move—daily.
We want the reward—not the lifestyle.
Since that’s not working for most of us--let’s flip the script. Big life changes often originate with subtle shifts in our beliefs. Your circumstance doesn’t necessarily change but how you interpret your environment does—and that can make all the difference.
My encouragement: Seek the lifestyle—not the reward!
Don’t wish for a great marriage—aspire to be kind to your spouse daily. Don’t wait for a spiritual awakening—wake up and pray. If you need to save money it’s probably a good idea to miss (the) Target too. And when it comes to weight loss, resist the urge to allow three numbers to validate your existence. Instead pursue leafy greens and colorful produce that make you feel alive. Learn to cook great meals. Run so fast your heart feels like it’ll beat right out of your chest. Lift weights. Stand on your hands. Try a new workout.
It’s okay to feel.
To feel alive is at times to be unsure and awkward—especially when learning a new skill. The style of life you live is more enduring than the handful of days that goals are met and rewards are doled out. Love the lifestyle first.
Determine a plan and stick with it—not for any idealized reward but because it’s the right thing to do. Course correct when adjustments are needed. Hold yourself accountable—while be gracious.
We are what we love and when we live from this perspective, we see the reward isn’t an end in itself. Instead, it’s an external manifestation of an inward conviction. It’s an encourager to say, “Hey! We’re making progress. Keep at it!”
And when the reward doesn’t present as quickly as we hoped—we can be disappointed but not dissuaded. It wasn’t our main objective anyway.
Save your money.
Invest in relationships.
Take care of your body.
Replenish your soul.
What greater reward is there than a style of life that reflects this kind of light?
It’s not three numbers on the scale that prove your value (or lack thereof) but a life lived from a place of love—where you’re valuable and other people are too.
Of course, the irony is when you pursue a gracious, disciplined, healthful lifestyle—rewards are inevitable. We’re often told to ‘live in the moment’ but I’m encouraging to live for the season. The things of the earth take time.
Be patient and wait for what you want. It's the lifestyle that's the true reward.
“…whoever serves is to do so as one who is serving by the strength God supplies; so that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom belongs the glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.” 1 Peter 4:11
I wrestled with this. I can do nothing apart from you Lord—doesn’t that mean all I do is with strength you supply? In one sense all activity is sustained by the continuous power of Christ: from prayer to powerlifting, Bible study to bathroom scrubbing, work to home and back again.
So why the distinction?
Audible answers to life’s riddles aren’t the only or main way truth is revealed. God’s Word is the key to unlocking knowledge and understanding. Wisdom calls in the streets—her pitch inaudible to untrained hears. So give us truth! Eyes to see. Ears to hear. Hearts to love.
Because false strength can empower life. Counterfeit courage. Spurious spirituality. Make-believe beliefs.
So how can we know we’re in step with the Spirit and not just given to passion or sparkly ideas that aren’t validated by the Word of God?
Here’s eight observations about the supernatural strength God supplies.
The message is clear, while believers are empowered by the Spirit of God to do great things in love, the privilege of what we’ll accomplish, how we’ll do it and even how long we’ll be used in a certain capacity belongs to God alone. He certainly doesn’t need us—but oh how we need him!
His condescension—willingly lowering himself, is so good and so true. Our response can only be to love in return offering our lives as living sacrifices. We are limited, dependent, insecure, prone to arrogance and cowardice and still Christ joyfully transforms our broken pieces by his broken body into shalom or wholeness.
Serve with the strength God supplies so in all things God will be glorified through Christ, always.
All my bones shall say: ‘O LORD, who is like you, delivering the poor from him who is too strong for him...’ Psalm 35:10
Curled up in a chair, sick, exhausted and overwhelmed, I chastised the Savior.
“The Darkness is too strong for me. It's winning. Where are you?” My tone was one of weak condemnation. I did my part—feeble though it may have been. But God—my champion, my rescuer seemingly vanished, leaving wounds seeping and gaps gaping.
This can’t be the way this ends. God—don’t you see? I’m falling through the cracks and am taking others with me.
I’ve listened to a thousand sermons. I’ve read my Bible cover to cover. I’ve read other people’s books who’ve read the Bible cover to cover. I’ve prayed. And cried. And waited.
Ever felt that way? Like you’ve done your part, but God hasn’t done his?
I wonder if the Bible legends had moments where they doubted God’s vision and proximity.
Daniel, drawing back, bracing for the first bone-crushing bite: “LORD—the lions are getting closer…”
Esther, sweat beading on her lip, voice trembling: “LORD, He doesn’t look happy to see me…”
Moses, feeling the collective pressure of a nation, pursued by slaughterers, standing before the sea: "Phenomenal works of deliverance…and now you’ve led us to a trap?”
For a story to great there must be conflict. Our hearts are similar. Take a faithful soul and lock her up with wild beasts, have her stand before a petulant judge, hem her in with impossible choices on both sides and watch the dross of the heart bubble up.
Fear. Doubt. Rage. Anguish. All of them at home in the heart—now set free by the key of affliction.
Darkness is real. And sometimes God allows it to get really close. Close enough for you to feel its death-grip and smell its stench. Close enough to despair that anything or anyone else could be closer.
Ahh…and here the key turns and another parasitical lie is disengaged from the heart: that darkness could ever win. Calvary lured darkness into a trap and blew it to smithereens with a light that burns brighter than 10,000 suns. For now, it lingers as a shadow content to latch itself on to gritty bits of sin and fear and anger that still plague the believer’s heart. But in Christ, we are more than conquerors. Not only will we overcome this scourge by the power of the Holy Spirit—but the shadow that sought our destruction will become our servant.
Here’s what Moses really said, standing at the banks of the Red Sea:
“Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the LORD which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again.” Exodus 14:13
Stand firm. For today God will work for you.
The sea split, and God’s people walked to safety. The bloodthirsty army charged in afterward—thinking this miracle was for them too. Alas, it wasn’t.
The king smiled at his queen and beckoned her in.
Bowing in submission to the Lord's Angel, the lions’ closed their mouths against hunger.
And me, curled up in a ball, spent my last bit of energy on three things. I repented of trusting my sight more than my Savior. I sent a desperate prayer plea to friends who could bear me in my weakness. And I read Romans 8.
And the words flew from page to heart. And the Word became more real than reality. Daniel’s lions’ mouths were shut by the power of the Spirit and my heart was opened to receive salvation.
Let me tell you where I was—indeed where I AM. In your weakness I am your helper. You don’t know how to pray the way you ought so the Spirit prays for you with groanings too deep for words. He intercedes for you according to my will. This power—this grace makes all things work together for good for you. Distress, danger and fear cannot separate you from me—even now Jesus Christ, the author and perfecter of your faith sits at my right hand, pleading for you. That’s what I’ve been doing. That’s where I’ve been. (Romans 8:26-35)
I’m fragile. Short on courage and long on fear. I trust my senses too much and am prone to wander. But I have a savior who isn’t anything like me. He’s genuinely tender and astonishingly fierce. He’s a friend like no other—ripe with love and compassion, full of infinite wisdom and fortunately for me, abounding in forgiveness.
Peace returned to my trembling heart and when I looked around, I saw something new. The despair I thought would destroy me had only deceived me and once exposed, began to serve me.
How? It purged my heart of all kinds of poison. It softened me and made me kind. It removed some flesh (ouch!) and replaced it with indestructible faith. And love? Oh love!
For (now) I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor power, nor height or depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)
The next time despair has you doubting God's faithfulness, his compassion, his ability to effect change--doubt your doubt. Not your savior.
You need it to please God. (Hebrews 11:6)
Without it the gospel will not profit you. (Hebrews 4:2)
If you don’t encourage it daily, it will atrophy. (Hebrews 3:13)
Yet you can’t fake it or make it up--as the word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. Matters of faith are extremely important. Faith is intentional and focused. Faith is neither blind nor purely emotional but a work of the Spirit that fuels righteousness.
The book of Hebrews was written to a brave and desperate people. Jewish believers had reneged on their centuries-old customs and religious traditions to put their faith in Christ. No more mandatory temple visits. No more animal sacrifices. They were ostracized and persecuted by traditional Jews and misunderstood by Gentiles. They were few in number. They were desperate. They needed to know if their faith in Jesus Christ was secure. Was he really Messiah? Had they truly secured the destiny of their souls? The anonymous Spirit-lead writer of the book of Hebrews wrote to give them confidence and peace.
People often say that God works in mysterious ways—but according to Hebrews Chapter 1, there is no mystery about Jesus Christ’s identity:
· He is God’s son
· Heir of all things
· Creator of the world
· Radiance of God the Father’s glory
· Exact representation of God the Father
· Upholder of all things by the power of His word
· Purifier of sins
· Better than angels
The same chapter tells readers who Jesus is not:
· He is not an angel
· He is not merely a good man
· He is not a fraud
As the true Mediator of the New Covenant, Jesus Christ fulfilled the Old Testament law which was strategically designed to point to his perfection and away from weak attempts at earned righteousness. The law was only a shadow of things to come. It is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins! (Hebrews 10:4)
Sin however, is a real problem for flesh that's under the curse of death. (Do you ever think of death as a curse? Like there was a time before the curse? And if only there was a redeemer to offer true love's kiss, or the shoe that fits...the curse could somehow be lifted?)
God breathed into us the breath of life and one day he will take it back. It's his after all. A lifetime of organic meals, healthy relationships and positive thinking isn’t enough to change the fact that the wages of sin is death. But the Heir of All Things, Jesus, does the unthinkable for the timid first Christians of old and the timid Christians of today—He becomes like us: flesh and blood.
He endures the cross--and sin's wretched mantle of abuse, perversion, rage, addiction, hatred, denial, indifference, greed, lust and everything ugly rendering our mortal enemy, Satan, who has the power of death, powerless, (2:14). Jesus calls those who he frees from slavery, “brethren” and “little children,”(2:14). Despite our failures he is not ashamed of us (2:11) and promises that as a merciful and faithful high priest he has completely made propitiation for the sins of the people (2:17). No one is more worthy of your faith, than Him. Because in at least one way, he is not like us. Jesus Christ is God.
The gospel (the good news that our redeemer has come to lift the curse) must be united with faith to equal profit. People put "faith" in all matter of things that are unfaithful and suffer. It is not faith itself that makes something worthy—it is the object of faith that intrinsically possesses or lacks value. Determining the value of the object of faith is of paramount importance because it will shape beliefs, ideas and even imagination. And for better or worse, there will be consequences. It’s precisely why those early Jewish believers were concerned and it’s why the book of Hebrews was written.
Saving faith initiates a spiritual transaction that shows up loud and clear in our lives.
The righteous in Christ need not "shrink back" as Hebrews 10:38 warns, but live out loud--by faith in the assurance and conviction that Christ will indeed preserve our souls. "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,” (11:1).
Chapter 11 lists nineteen “By Faith” statements to illustrate what faith accomplishes in the world, after it has been unleashed in the heart of believer.
· By faith we accept God spoke creation into existence
· By faith Abel offered
· By faith Enoch was taken up and didn’t see death
· By faith Noah prepared
· By faith Abraham obeyed and lived as an alien in the place God sent him
· By faith Sarah received
· By faith Abraham offered up Isaac
· By faith Isaac and his son Jacob blessed their sons
· By faith Joseph made mention of the exodus
· By faith Moses was hidden
· By faith Moses refused to be called the son of the Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to endure ill-treatment with the people of God than to enjoy the passing pleasures of sin.
· By faith Moses left Egypt and kept the Passover
· By faith the Israelites passed through the Red Sea
· By faith the walls of Jericho fell
· By faith Rahab the harlot, survived
By faith, kingdoms were conquered, acts of righteousness were performed, promises were obtained and the mouths of lions were shut. By faith others were tortured, experienced mocking and scourging or left imprisoned in chains. By faith, some received back their life while others were sawed in two, (11:33-39).
Faith in Christ will save your life and cost your life, but the reward of knowing the One who upholds the world by the power of his word is greater than all the treasure in the universe. Indeed all our wealth and knowledge and progress is but a bauble in the hand of the Almighty! So let us lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us and let us run with endurance to the finish line.
Faith in Christ is an anchor in the uncertainty of life's storms, a pair of wings to rise above them and when necessary, a multi-layer structural suit of Kevlar to tear directly through them, "therefore, let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in the time of need," (4:16).
The art of seeing—and being seen is something our culture prizes. We direct our gaze to that which we find desirable, delicious, arousing but also unbelievable and repulsive. We are the Looking People, always reading, watching, observing, comparing, searching for the best view.
We’re a people who seek to be seen also. Despite critical tendencies and the litany of body-image complaints—our gyms, malls and homes are mirrored not to develop our humility—but self-admiration. Oh, this isn’t to say we’re content with all we see—we are practiced complainers, but still we look.
We are not only preoccupied by our physical image but also our histories, our possessions, even the accomplishments of those close to us. Look what I have. Look what I’ve done. See who I know. See me.
And we should see.
And we need to be seen.
But even seeing needs interpretation because vision problems abound.
Do you wear glasses or contact lenses? Most eyesight issues are refractive in nature. The human eye is designed to bend light, imprinting images on the retina for the brain to decode. But if the eye is bad and unable to bend light—vision is blurry, darkened. Corrective lenses bend the light instead, so vision is focused, illuminated. The Word of God does this too.
In Genesis 16 we learn of Hagar and her need to be seen. I imagine her as a young and radiant Egyptian beauty--mostly because she was Sarai’s first choice for her husband’s progeny. Hagar is seen by Sarai. “Behold now, the Lord has prevented me from bearing children. Go in to my servant; it may be that I shall obtain children by her.” And Abram listened to the voice of Sarai. Genesis 16:2
Note how Sarai demands Abram see her affliction, “Behold!” she cries. And Abram looks but his gaze goes beyond his wife to the slave girl. And like Eve—mother of all, Abram sees that Hagar is good and a delight to the eyes and he desired a child which it seemed only she could provide. And he listened to the voice of his wife and knew another woman.
Now Hagar is seen and known intimately by her master. And she conceives, feels special and does a little looking of her own. “And when (Hagar) saw that she had conceived, she looked with contempt upon her mistress.” Genesis 16:4
Newly pregnant and enjoying fresh honor the slave girl attempts to invert the hierarchy by throwing shade on her older, barren mistress. Oh no, says Sarai and she makes the girl's life hellish. Scripture says Sarai dealt “harshly with her” and it was so bad Hagar ran to the wilderness to escape. She had been seen by man and it went badly, now Hagar just wanted to be invisible.
There’s at least three lessons here:
Graciously and maybe ironically, it is Abram’s God who finds the discarded woman. We learn in Genesis 16:7 “The angel of the LORD found her by a spring of water in wilderness, the spring on the way to Shur.”
Where have you come from Hagar and where are you going? She tells him. Return and submit to your mistress. You are pregnant with a son—call him Ishmael. He’ll be wild, but I have plans for him and you too.
The wonder is too great to contain. Yes, she’s told to return to Sarai and yes, her son will be handful, but God saw her, saw her and that takes precedence overall.
She called the name of the LORD who spoke to her, “You are a God of seeing. Truly I have seen him who looks after me.” Genesis 16:13
El Roi. The God who sees.
More than a decade later Hagar is celebrating with her master and mistress at Ishmael’s brother’s weaning feast. It’s a happy and heady time. God has made a covenant with the Abrams and changed their names. They’ve sustained and added to their great wealth. And now, a baby son. Isaac. The child of promise. The son of the free woman. And in this celebratory season Hagar makes a crucial error. She laughs.
Infuriated—by what I imagine felt like an intrusion on her family’s moment—Sarah cannot bear to see the slave girl any longer. Cast her out, she demands. And like so many family get-togethers, the feast ends sorrowfully.
Abraham, brokenhearted yet obedient to his God and his wife, bids farewell to Hagar and his first-born son. Trusting El Roi really is the God who sees, he turns his back on his son and the boy’s mother and returns to camp.
Whatever future conflicts were birthed by the Abrams foolhardy plan to assist God (by sinning!) I am grateful that through this experience, Hagar gave us El Roi. Acknowledging God or “the name of God” (addressing the fullness of his attributes) is good and proper but calling him by specific names that correspond to precise attributes is ever so helpful in understanding God's heart toward us. In Genesis, facets of His holy character are progressively revealed.
He is ELOHIM the Creator, strong and mighty. Genesis 17:7
He is YAHWEH-JIREH, the LORD who provides. Genesis 22:14
He is EL ROI, the God who sees. Genesis 16:13
After Abraham's departure and a period of wandering, Hagar comes to the end of herself in the wilderness of Beersheba. Her beloved son isn’t in her womb this time and if she was unsure how to provide for him before, she’s at a loss now. After her meager supplies have been exhausted, the dutiful mom places her son in a shady spot and walks a bow-shot distance away--convinced his death is imminent. We learn that she lifted her voice and wept. Her son must have called to her--Mama what’s wrong? What have I done? What can I do? because God responded to the pleas of the child.
And God heard the voice of the boy, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, “What troubles you, Hagar? Fear not, for God has heard the voice of the boy where he is. Up! Lift up the boy and hold him fast with your hand, for I will make him into a great nation. Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water.” Genesis 21:17-19
The God of seeing helps Hagar see a well that was there all along. We know from her mother’s heart that though she was weary from thirst, hunger and anguish, her only hope was for her son. She feared she would see his death instead God allowed her to see how to sustain his life.
In the same way, the God of seeing enables us to see well. We have been seen by God—so we can see others. To find the emotional, physical, financial and spiritual wells that will bring refreshment to parched souls.
We seek to be seen and we ought to see the world--its beauty and depravity, but not merely with eyes that scan the surface, judging others on the basis of competencies and frailties. We need light to bend, penetrate the surface and reveal the subterranean needs of the soul.
We can take confidence that EL Roi is the God who sees us too--even if no one else does. And there's more! The prophet Zephaniah tells us that when Christ is in our midst, God rejoices over us with gladness and quiets us with his love. Zephaniah 3:17
We don't need to to constantly earn, prove or show our value because the psalmist tells us that greatness, like good eyesight, is a gift from the Gentle One.
You have given me the shield of your salvation and your right hand supported me and your gentleness made me great." Psalm 18:35
May we all be made great by the gentleness of our seeing God and seek to see each other well also.
A predictable routine is essential infrastructure in our family. An awareness of our weekly activities and responsibilities helps us plan, uphold obligations and maintain order in an environment that looms chaotic. Knowing that Wednesday is my night of folding a Mount Rainier-sized mound of clean laundry, I have peace Tuesday when baskets of so many jeans, leggings, shirts and socks threaten me. I see you. And I’ll deal with you tomorrow.
But what if our routine becomes god? When all submits to the patterns of personality and behavior and preference—and nothing and no thing can interfere with the schedule?
“The earth is the LORD’S and all it contains, the world and those who dwell in it.” Psalm 24:1
This includes time and how we choose to use it.
My time and all the schedules and preferences it holds ought to submit to creation’s author. Because really, it’s not a predictable routine that bears the weight of my family’s needs and desires, but Jesus Christ who upholds all things—even enormous piles of untended laundry—by the word of His power. (Hebrews 1:3)
If we stand any chance of accomplishing good works for the Kingdom, our minutes must submit to the One who has numbered our days--our nanoseconds, before we’ve even breathed our first. (Psalm 139:16)
And we must accomplish good works. Grace makes good works possible. Love makes good works inevitable.
Will you change your preferences for Love?
Yes…but there’s Church on Sunday, weekday gymnastics, school drop off and pickups (at four different schools). There’s youth group, and her birthday party this weekend. Yes…but the cello needs tuning and groceries don’t buy themselves and when’s the last time anyone vacuumed? And there’s a form somewhere—always forms that need signing and there’s a job also because none of this running about pays the bills. Yes…but it’s my time. And these are my preferences. And life only works this way.
I want to love with all my heart--no conditions or requirements--I just...can't.
Ahh, now we're getting somewhere. Beloved, if you know me, you know love, because I am love. I sent my son to you--live through him, for he's taken away your sin. I have loved you first--so you can love my world best. Rest in me--loving through you--and you will love well. 1 John 8-10
Nighttime finds me frail. My body pleads for rest. But it’s also when all the house lies quiet. Wrapped in darkness, a stone’s throw from midnight—desperate for a spoonful of uninterrupted time I move through the house seeking solitude. Time to think. Time to write.
No sooner do my fingers find the keyboard than a baby’s cry hits my ear like an air raid siren. I want to take cover—but I’m awake. I am the first responder.
Really? I get up before dawn to work on projects that mock me throughout the day—only for them to tease me still.
She is cold and wet and unsettled. Gently and quietly, I change her, snuggle her close, wrap her in the grace and love that binds me. Now she is warm, dry, secure. I hold her close. Just her and I—adrift in a moment that is sacred-beautiful.
A mama and a baby. Weeks ago—strangers. Neither of us seeking the other and yet finding one another still.
Awash in moonlight I offer thanks to the Lord. Even I can see that tonight, these hands of mine weren’t meant to write life-giving words but to hold life.
To behold life—this little bundle baby in my arms. Time is a gift to be received—not killed or wasted, but spent on what we love. And who doesn’t have time for love moments like this? I’m reminded of the Psalmist’s praise--I remember your name in the night, O Lord and another: At midnight I rise to praise you because of your righteous rules. Psalm 119: 55, 62
My routine—both in slumber and motion are life’s outlines, but if they don’t fill when the breath of the Sprit blows—I live imprisoned.
I am a free woman. I have no use for chains.
And so my deliverer comes to break the bonds I’ve forged. But the breaking hurts. Feels like loss. Yet since routine is not god—God is God, He gives what I’m really seeking and exposes the lie I’m believing.
Self-remembrance is how I try to preserve joy: my pursuits, plans, patterns. But the path to joy is more closely tied to self-forgetfulness. Losing myself is that which is fuller, always and more. I agree with Ann Voskamp, my endless desires can only be met in an endless God. And C.S. Lewis, “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.”
Another World. The upside-down Kingdom that is truly right-side up, where the last are first, the empty are full, the broken are made whole.
I do not always spend my time-gift wisely, but I trust in the love of the One who holds my days like petals in His eternal palm. He deserves immediate and steadfast obedience not the dawdling, reluctance I frequently offer yet even still Christ transforms my spray of weeds into a bouquet of flowers, fragrant. If divine love cannot change my life and reorder my preferences—what can? What will?
I have my answer. But now it’s a prayer.
Yes! Please. Let divine love interrupt me, change my life, re-order my steps. Replace my less and sometimes with more and always. Help me seek eternal beauty instead temporal trappings. Keep my path straight—no matter the cost. I will trust you with my days—
And my sleepless nights.
Sometimes when I pray—and long to fill the air with words rich and weighty, I lean on the Psalms. I pick one or a portion, personalize it and pray it aloud.
“Let a righteous man strike me—that is kindness; let him rebuke me—that is oil on my head. My head will not refuse it, for my prayer will still be against the deeds of evildoers.” (Psalm 141:5)
Few would call themselves perfect. “I’m only human!” is the perennial acknowledgment of our personal and collective lack of perfection and yet, often when criticism is leveled our defenses inflame--as though we were faultless.
Not King David. He pleaded with God to set a guard over his mouth, to keep his heart and hands from delighting in wickedness and should he slip, he prayed for intervention and correction.
David perceived an assault by the righteous on his inappropriate, misguided or sinful actions as God's kindness to him. He believed to be set apart—to be anointed with oil, was part and parcel with much-needed correction. Stop me Lord, before I ruin everything.
Despite being beloved of God, a warrior, musician and “ruddy and handsome,” (1 Samuel 17:42) David could also be a little stinker who needed to stand down. And he knew it.
Marvel at the humility of this king!
My daughters are competitive gymnasts and the Spirit has used their experiences to teach me much about the relationship of life and holiness.
An integral set of skills in any gymnast’s tumbling pass is the round off -back handspring. The round off allows the gymnast to transfer her forward momentum to either backward or vertical velocity so she has the speed and height to shoot up and back into a back handspring (or numerous other skills). It is both a fundamental and an advanced skill.
For three years my daughter had practiced transitions that would pay off with the much sought-after round off back handspring and when she finally got it, she was excited to show me. Of course, I was thrilled beyond words myself and waited breathlessly, iPhone recording in hand to capture this prolific moment.
She nodded at me from across the gym and then turned away, fixing her eyes on the track in front of her. A whirlwind of power and grace—she zipped through the air like she had been flying her entire life. It was a perfect moment. And I told her so.
“Mommy,” she said knowingly, “My arms were too far out, my legs weren’t straight, and my toes weren’t pointed. Plus, I went to too high and didn’t travel backward far enough.” Her eyes dazzled and she added “If you were my coach, I wouldn’t be a very good gymnast.”
Both my daughter and Israel’s ancient king knew something I hadn’t yet grasped in this context, namely the power of truth and the beauty of being shaped by it—as opposed to shaping truth into a form of our own creation…which isn’t truth at all.
Here’s the clincher: It is only a good thing to be schooled by the righteous if you want to improve. Otherwise their challenges will cause bitterness, resentment and inflamed defenses—because even though we’d never say we’re perfect, we tend to act like we are.
My daughter’s coach knew what the perfect execution of the skill looked like. He could also see where she fell short—and content with nothing less than perfection, challenged her to improve.
God the Father knows true perfection and unraveled the mystery…with a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths lying in a manger. Jesus Christ is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature. He upholds the universe by the word of his power. (Hebrews 1:3)
He is our perfection and our only hope.
My son put it this way: The King of Kings should have been born in the Castle of castles, laid in the Cradle of cradles but was instead placed in the Manger of mangers. The wonder of it all! Can you see why the angelic army burst into praise before the shepherds that glorious night? “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” (Luke 2:14)
Believers stand firm on Christ’s imputed righteousness, submit to a lifetime of training and grow in sanctification. Nothing short of perfection comes into God’s presence, so like the woman in the crowd we grasp at the fringe of Christ’s garments, desperate for restoration and grace as power flows our way. Only then can we pray the Psalms of David:
O Lord, I call upon you; hasten to me!
Give ear to my voice when I call to you!
Let my prayer be counted as incense before you,
and the lifting of my hands as the evening sacrifice! (Psalm 141:1-2)
My daughter competed valiantly and by the season’s end took her place on the podium, bowing to receive State’s first-place medal. She was a champion, not due to organic perfection--but a teachable heart that received correction as kindness.
During Christmastime many of us contemplate God’s condescension to us—the majesty and the mundane interwoven in a long and circuitous story of redemption. We aren’t perfect at Christmas or any other time of the year—though we long to be. Fear not for I have good news of great joy that's for everyone; Perfection has come to earth and we celebrate Him this season.
Sometimes when you pray—and long to fill the air with words rich and weighty, lean on the Psalms. The wisdom found within, never disappoints.
"Lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily entangles and run with endurance the race set before you. "