Come and Dine

**This is Part one of a series on focusing on the value and beauty of reading God’s Word.**

 

You’re hungry.

As a pilgrim on a long, and often, arduous journey, you find yourself so weary that you might not even realize how famished you are until a door opens and the first wafting aroma of prepared food hits your senses.

Your stomach growls as your hands begin to tremble.

You step inside and discover a dining table completely hidden beneath the abundance of every wonderful kind of food you can imagine.  Substantial food meant to nourish and strengthen the body.  Nourishing soups, healthy vegetables, hearty meats — foods intended to fuel your body for the demands of the day.

Off to the side you notice another table filled with sugary desserts.  The kind that are appealing and pretty, all sugar and fluff.  Experience tells you they are sweet and easy to eat, but lack the nourishing qualities of the more sustaining, life-giving food at the first table.

Your body craves nourishment but from which table will you choose to eat?

Will you bypass the table of substantial foods to satiate your cravings with sugary fluff from the dessert table, simply because it provides an immediate, yet temporary relief from your hunger and tastes so sweet?  Will you eat your fill of it until you no longer crave anything more?

Or will you sit at the first table and fill your plate and body with meat, vegetables, and fruits until your strength is renewed?

Which will you choose?

No, this isn’t a post about changing our lifestyles, ditching junk foods, or focusing on whole food diets, plant based diets, or anything of the sort.

Friends, what we feed our souls and minds is so much more important that what we feed our bellies.

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I grew up in a church that valued the Word of God.  Now, that doesn’t mean how the Bible was interpreted and taught was necessarily always correct, as the church functioned within a strong legalistic-minded belief system.  But there was an emphasis made on the Scriptures and I always had a Bible readily available to me, memorizing significant portions of it throughout my childhood.

However, I did not read my Bible consistently on my own nor did I always understand what I read.  Therefore, as I listened to a message or Bible lesson, I simply accepted what that person said to be truth;  After all, they read a verse from the Bible supporting their thoughts, so it had to be true, right?  I never learned how to study the Bible and certainly questioning anyone was never an option in that environment, but I would do my best to read simply so I could check that duty off of my ‘How to be a good Christian’ to-do list.

The truth of it? Reading my Bible was a chore … a constant source of guilt from not remembering to read it daily or from reading it through the lens of poor theology.

As a young adult, I began attending a new church and eventually married, which began to awaken a hunger for something more.  I found myself in a life that was not being supported very well by the shaky spiritual foundation of my youth.  A variety of books came my way and I began to devour these writings by Christian authors because they flowed so easily and made me feel somewhat better.  I thought I would finally find some answers to the burning hunger inside me.  In the mornings, I would sit at the table with my Bible and these books.  I intended to spend time in the Scriptures but those books were so much more appealing so I was drawn to them first.  I didn’t have to think … I just read the thoughts of another.  They became my bible.

But then life began to grow more challenging and confusing, while the hunger inside of me deepened.   I couldn’t find the answers nor the guidance I needed in those books I was reading.  They weren’t enough.  There was no real substance to them in the face of trial and heartache.  There had to be more.  I turned to my Bible again but often grew frustrated with the antiquated language, the poor theology/teaching of my past, and my overall lack of understanding.

I was starving — spiritually starving.

My spiritual foundation began to shake and crumble into dust beneath me.

One Christmas, I decided to buy my husband a new Bible.  He still used a paperback student Bible from his youth and I thought if he had a different Bible, then maybe, well, maybe something would change.  I asked for guidance from a man in our church and that Christmas, I wrapped up a new study Bible, in a version I knew nothing about, and gave it to my husband.

And you know what? Change did begin to happen … in me.

One morning, out of curiosity, I opened his Bible and began to read familiar passages.  They were the same, yet different.  The clear wording and the study notes at the bottom of each page opened an entirely new world to me and even though there was still so much I didn’t understand, I began to delve into the pages of God’s Word in a way I never had before.  I began to feast at the table God had set before me.  Eventually,  I received my very own copy of the Scriptures like I had bought my husband – I was overjoyed and dug in deeper.

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies…”
Psalm 23:5a

 

But life only became more perplexing.  I went from being in church services all the time to sitting in a nursery or backroom with my autistic son and my other babies.  Fellowship with other believers became increasingly more rare as I spent day after day caring for my children and night after night staying awake with my son. My world grew very small until it became a journey of walking through a barren desert of isolation.

This is when God’s Word started to become more real to me.

At the recommendation of someone who expressed concern for me and my children, I visited a different church.  I needed help.  My children needed help. I was desperate.  After one solo visit on a Wednesday evening, I was intrigued by the teaching and began taking my younger children to their kids Bible club program.  Within a short period of time, I moved my whole family to this church.  The clear teaching of Scriptures, whether from the pulpit or in counsel, presented without drama or harshness, drew me in and began the process of building a new foundation in my life and in the lives of my children.  A foundation built on the Word of God.

Ironically enough, life did not become any easier.  I tried to get involved, to be part of the church community and find my niche, but it didn’t work, largely due to the needs of my autistic son.  I made sure my younger children were at every service and every event, but I rarely had the freedom nor the stamina to participate myself.  My world grew smaller as I cared for my son with autism and began homeschooling my other children.  I just could not understand God’s plan in all of this as the journey grew increasingly dark.

This is when the Word of God became my Light and that … changed everything.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet
And a light to my path.”
Psalm 119:105

 

Come and dine, won’t you?

leek and potato soup

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Some Golden Daybreak – for me, for you

I didn’t have any intention of writing today and rather hoped to withdraw inside myself for awhile … but these words wouldn’t stop until they were written, although hastily written they certainly are.  Perhaps someone else could use them too.

I woke and immediately a sense of sadness began to fill my slowly stirring mind.

My autistic son was heading back to school today and while I should have been relieved to finally get a break, I felt a heavy weight instead.  This holiday break had been challenging … no, actually it was downright hard in many ways.  The first few days weren’t too bad but by the second day after Christmas, everything fell apart.

He can’t tell me what is wrong so I learn by observation, but even at that, I can never assume I know what is happening inside of him.  However, one thing was very evident … he gave every impression of being consumed with anxiety.

Yes, he is on medication.  Yes, I also use supplements for him.

Sometimes, they aren’t enough.

This was one of those times.

By the last evening before his return to school, I was curled up on the couch, unable to fight one more battle.  My heart raced, my chest ached from a heavy weight of grief, I was devoid of strength.  Trying to grasp what I could not possibly understand, while working to support my son and stay ahead of whatever was gripping his mind, was suddenly too much.

I didn’t cry. I couldn’t speak. I just held a blanket against my chest and prayed for bedtime to come.  Relief for us both.

That relief was nowhere to be found when I woke in the early morning hours even as the house rested quietly around me.  I couldn’t escape the memories nor the heavy weight and overwhelming sense of responsibility.

The burden felt too great for my shoulders alone.

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Often, while reading articles or perusing comments to articles or new stories, I find a mocking response towards the ones who seek the Lord in times of distress.

“Religion is a waste of time”, they say. “There is no God.”

Their tone condescending, their words belittling … they deny the very truth we stand on as believers and followers of Christ.

I understand.

Sometimes as believers, even we wonder if what we believe is really true.

Oh, most of us will never admit that but when the storms of life hit and knock you senseless to the ground, a quick instinctive response often rips from the depths of our soul …

“GOD! Where are you?!”

Where is He …

For the widow who weeps alone today, recently bereft of the love of her husband?

For the daughter, who longs for his embrace?

For the mother who prayed and longed for her prodigal child to return for so many years, only to see her go further away?

For the grandma beside the grave of the grandson she raised?

For the heartbroken widow, remarried and finding herself in a horrendous situation?

For the wife waiting for the cancer to win the last round?

For the mother broken with sorrow for a child she doesn’t know how to help?

These are my friends, my family, my sisters in the Lord … the ones in my prayers this morning.

Each has been forever touched by sorrow.

“God! Where are you?”

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We are not alone in our brokenness and one does not need to search long before finding Scripture that seem to echo the very words coursing through us with each beat of a troubled heart …

“Be not far from me, for trouble is near; For there is none to help.”
Psalm 22:11

Give ear to my words, O Lord,
Consider my groaning.
Heed the sound of my cry for help, my King and my God,
For to You I pray.
In the morning, O Lord, You will hear my voice;
In the morning I will order my prayer to You and eagerly watch.
Psalm 5:1-3

 

As the deer pants for the water brooks,
So my soul pants for You, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God;
When shall I come and appear before God?
My tears have been my food day and night,
While they say to me all day long, “Where is your God?”
Psalm 42:1-3

 

Where is He?

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
Psalm 34:18

 

He is near to you. 

As hard as it is to grasp sometimes when we feel alone in the journey, the Lord does know what we are walking through when seasons of grief and sorrow come our way.  We can find a measure of comfort in that He knows what we are experiencing for He has walked the way of grief as well.

“He was despised and forsaken of men,
A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
And like one from whom men hide their face
He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.”
Isaiah 53:3

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I walked into my kitchen just as the sun was breaking over the horizon.  The barren trees stood starkly against the background of dark blues, gentle pinks, and subtle oranges.  The bird feeder swayed quietly from the branches without a single bird to be seen.  This view from my kitchen window drew me outside, despite the frosty chill, until I stood in wonder of a beautiful sunrise after the grief of a weary night.  What a loving God to paint glorious sunrises with the promise of the most beautiful one yet to come.

Some glorious morning sorrow will cease
Some glorious morning all will be peace
Heartaches all ended, school days all done
Heaven will open – Jesus will come.

Some golden daybreak Jesus will come
Some golden daybreak, battles all won
He’ll shout the vict’ry, break thro’ the blue
Some golden daybreak, for me, for you.

Sad hearts will gladden, all shall be bright
Goodbye forever to earth’s dark night
Changed in a moment, like Him to be
Oh, glorious daybreak, Jesus I’ll see.

Some golden daybreak Jesus will come
Some golden daybreak, battles all won
He’ll shout the vict’ry, break thro’ the blue
Some golden daybreak, for me, for you.

Oh, what a meeting, there in the skies
No tears nor crying shall dim our eyes
Loved ones united eternally
Oh, what a daybreak that morn will be.

Some golden daybreak Jesus will come
Some golden daybreak, battles all won
He’ll shout the vict’ry, break thro’ the blue
Some golden daybreak, for me, for you.
(written by Carl A. Blackmore) 

 

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To the ones who would mock and consider me a fool for placing my trust in a Savior they believe doesn’t exist, I’m actually okay with that and I don’t blame you.  I do believe the day will come that you will understand the truth upon which I live.

But to the ones who know the voice of their Shepherd and are walking through a pathway of sorrow, I hope you find encouragement and strength in His Word to face  today.  Tomorrow will take care of itself.

Before my son left this morning, I stood beside him as he sat on his char, waiting for his van to arrive.  I felt powerless and helpless, until I did the only thing I could … I placed my hand on his shoulder and began to pray.  I prayed until my hand moved to the top of his head and my voice broke from the tears as I pleaded with Jesus for more.
“Give him more, Jesus.  Give him more.”

That is my prayer for you today as well.

“Give her more, Jesus.  Give her more.”

Friends, a glorious daybreak is coming when all the sin and sorrow that plagues this earth will cease and Jesus will come to restore what was once broken.  No more autism.  No more cancer.  No more death.  No more grief.  No more tears.

Some golden daybreak, for me, for you.

More

We stand at the dawn of a new year.

The time when we diligently make new goals, bravely set (or reset last year’s) resolutions, and in general, feel a need to shake things up.

Make changes or possibly, insist we are fine, just as we are.

In any case, be the master of our own destiny.

But what does that look like for the believer?  For the one who seeks to follow God?

Here are my thoughts … offered hesitantly and humbly.

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As a child, I had hopes and dreams, albeit they were mostly simple and shallow.  For example, driving home from church on a summer Sunday evening and hoping that my Dad would skip the turn to go home and instead go straight towards the local dairy parlor for ice cream.

Their chocolate ice cream was so good!

I never asked him but he knew we always wanted ice cream.  Each drive home from church, I would sit in the backseat, silently wishing and repeating over and over, “Go straight, Dad … please go straight.”

If the car still turned towards home, I would be disappointed but never upset.  I could wish for an ice cream cone all I wanted but, as my father, it was his decision whether or not it was a good time to provide it.

As a child, I was dependent on my father to provide and even when I didn’t understand, I usually trusted him.

Or what man is there among you who, when his son asks for a loaf, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, he will not give him a snake, will he? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!
Matthew 7:9-11

We human beings tend to be independent, rather self-focused creatures, wouldn’t you agree?  We want what we want, when we want it.  We want comfort, security, success, the admiration of others … and more independence.

As a teenager, I often frustrated my Dad because I never told him when I needed something.  When I was driving one of his vehicles, I never mentioned if I needed gas money.  I would simply take money from my birthday stash and put gas in the car.  Some of it may have been family circumstances at the time, but a large part of it was a stubborn independent instinct that had been stirred awake.  If I needed something, I instinctively searched for ways to provide it for myself.  I didn’t want to be dependent on anyone.  I didn’t want to be a bother.  I probably hoped that my Dad would give me gas money, but I certainly didn’t ask.

Not asking became normal.  Discouraging any hopeful expectation became a habit.

So I was surprised many years later, when my current Pastor mentioned that I don’t seem to ask God for very much.  After being a witness and a voice of counsel on my journey for a number of years, he finally said, “Tanya, you really need to learn to ask God for more.”

I was taken aback.

What?  Ask God for more?

Why did that seem so … scary?

Why did my instinct scream that I couldn’t possibly ask God for more?

Well, like many of us, I have very distinct memories of God not answering my prayers.

The desperate prayers of a young teenager who didn’t feel she could face another day as she soaked her pillow with tears each night. 

The heartsick, confused young wife, still staining a pillow with tears as she struggled to understand.

The broken tears of a mother as she watched autism steal her son away.

I couldn’t ask God for more because deep inside, I had stopped trusting Him.

He didn’t answer my prayers the way I had pleaded with Him to do for so many years.

When I begged Him to move life straight forward towards that coveted chocolate ice cream cone, He turned onto a road that led a different direction.  Definitely not where I wanted to go.  He didn’t give me what I asked for and eventually, I stopped trusting Him.  I stopped asking.

Sure, I paid lip service to Him but deep inside, I became more intent on being independent.  I would find a way to survive this life He had given me.  I would do something good with it.  I would say I trusted Him … and yet, I never did as I held tightly onto the reins of my life.

“Tanya, ask God for more.”

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The very nature of my life does not allow for much freedom so the concept of asking for ‘more’ seems counterintuitive and pointless. The details of why this is are not important to this post but my journey has often been one of a solitary pilgrim walking in a hidden, desert place.  I fought this journey for years, desperate for a life that allowed the freedoms that I watched others enjoy.  I resented the restrictions of my life and struggled with a deep bitterness.  I pushed hard to find ways to gain more freedom and independence and, in the process, wore myself out and received no blessing from the Lord.  Essentially, it was more His will to keep me hidden, than flying free. My life began to resemble a bird imprisoned inside a cage.  I longed for freedom but the circumstances of my life were as bars surrounding me, preventing my escape.

I beat my wings against those bars, trying to break my way out until I was completely broken inside.  Then I set about making that bird cage the nicest it could be.  If I had to be stuck, it was at least going to be a noteworthy cage.  But, the One who has allowed all the restricting portions of my life has never allowed me to have my own way.  He purposed to teach me how to live the life I have from the only One who knew how.

Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”
Matthew 11:28-30

Spending time in the Scriptures, learning of Him, seeking Him in all the hidden details of my life, is bringing about an understanding that far surpasses the God of my childhood.

I have studied His character and I am learning to find rest in His sovereignty and grace.  I am continually learning that God is good.  He is so good to me.


The Lord, the Lord God, merciful

and gracious, longsuffering, and
abounding in goodness and truth.
Exodus 34:6

 

You know, I may have been disappointed when I did not get that chocolate ice cream cone as a young child, but it never changed how I viewed my Dad.  I spent enough time with him to understand his character and that I could trust him even when he didn’t give me what I wanted.

When we invest time in our relationship with the Lord, we learn the character and nature of our God and this is actually what sustains and carries us through the hard seasons of life.  We might not understand the purpose of our suffering but we find all we need when we understand the character of the God who allows it.  When we depend on Him as the source of our strength, He takes on the yoke of our burden and walks beside us on our journey.  He teaches us how to live this life the way Jesus lived His earthly life … sacrificially and honoring to God the Father.

As we live in the knowledge of His character, our response to hardship will change from, “God, why are You doing this to me?” to “God, I trust that You have allowed this in my life so teach me how to walk through it Your way.”

In the last 14 years, God has pretty much taken away every crutch I have ever used to limp my way through this life. He has not answered many of my prayers in the way I wanted.  But instead, He has been doing something else altogether.

During the hardest seasons when I think I can’t take one more step, He is there carrying me through.  When I don’t know what to do next, He provides direction.  When I want to give up, He never lets me.  Sometimes He tarries and lets me wait in silence.  Sometimes He allows me to back myself into a position where I am forced to take an unwanted step … and then I see Him move on my behalf in amazing ways.  His grace sustains me, His strength carries me.

Through it all what remains true is that the character of God is unchanging.  He is good and pure in all His ways.  When we can’t see the way in front of us because of the fiercest storms, we can trust the Captain who guides our ship.

This is what I have learned of my God while waiting as a bird, in a bird cage.

O taste and see that the Lord is good;
How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!
Psalm 34:8

So more recently, when I heard our Pastor give a charge to our church body to ask God for ‘more’, it became a thing of beauty as I pondered the past and looked towards the future.  ‘More’ became a word of hope … of promise.

Oh God, I want more of You.  I want to be more of a gentle, quiet, burning candle shining fervently with the light of your mercy, love, and grace.  I want more of You in the lives of my children.  Please God, I want more.  More of a life that is led by You and not by my own fear or selfish ambitions.  I want to be more dependent on You and less dependent on myself.  I want more.  More dying of self and more love for others.  Less of me and more of You.  I want to trust You more when I don’t understand the journey and the loneliness of it threatens to steal my joy away.  I want more of the work of the Holy Spirit in the depths of my being and outpouring in the fruits of my life … even if You are the only One who ever sees.  Oh God, I ask You for more.

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Set all the goals you wish for this upcoming year of 2020 … but my challenge for you, for my children, and for myself is to walk with God more.  Learn more of Him from His Word.  Spend more time in prayer.  Seek more of Him in every detail of your life.  Confess and repent more of sin.  Let nothing stand between you and God.  Die more to self.  Put Him first above all.  Please join me in asking God for more … more of Himself.

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.”

bright burn burnt candle

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*Turn your eyes upon Jesus – hymn written by Helen Howorth Lemmel