April 17, 2013
We wait for the blessed hope-the
glorious appearing of our great
God and Savior, Jesus Christ … Titus 2:13
In the middle of the afternoon on April 15th, a push notification from a news service flashed on my cell phone. When I looked at it, I was startled to read that bombs had gone off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. I quickly turned on the television, and saw what has been replayed many times since: billowing plumes of smoke followed by panicked people running in every direction. Then pictures of policemen, firemen, gurneys, ambulances, and bystanders running to help people who looked like torn rag dolls littering the sidewalk of the street.
In the days following, we are looking for answers. The shock is wearing off, but the horror is still mind-numbing. How could this have happened? Who would do such a thing to innocent people? We can’t seem to wake up from the nightmare.
My thoughts have turned back to two weeks ago, when we celebrated Easter. This year, God seemed to lead me to meditate on Saturday, the day that fell in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
Good Friday is a day when traditionally the brutality of Jesus’ betrayal, arrest, trials, torture, execution, death, and burial are remembered. But then Sunday comes! And overnight, everything changes. We celebrate Easter as a day when we exuberantly rejoice, “He is risen!”
But Saturday had my attention. Saturday for the disciples must have been a day of emotional numbness and spiritual shock following the horror of Friday. They surely couldn’t reconcile all they had believed and seen and experienced and heard over the last three years…all they knew about Jesus…with the events that had unfolded in the last 36 to 48 hours.
Saturday was a day of silence. Of stillness. Of the total absence of life and joy and hope. It was a day of ruined lives. Shattered dreams. Oppressive fear. A day when shining hope spiraled down and down and down into black despair. It was a day the disciples had to live with the unthinkable. That hate had won. Evil had triumphed. Wrong had trumped the right. And God was so weak there was no evidence of Him anywhere that they could see, or feel, or hear. Actually, it was a day when God was dead. Literally.
Then I wonder… was it “Friday” in Boston, and in our nation, on April 15th? Because it, too, was a day when our minds reeled with shock. A day when our hearts were shattered by the scenes and stories coming across the television screen. When we cried soundlessly because we had no words except, “How can this be?” It just didn’t, and still doesn’t, make sense. There is nothing logical or reasonable to wrap our thoughts around.
But now, is it “Saturday” in Boston and in our nation? A day when the shock is setting in? A day when all of us are numb from the horror of what happened on Friday, unable to voice our thoughts or feelings, because what words could describe them? A day when many families and friends are beginning to live with black despair.
And so I have been pondering Saturday in Boston and in our nation and in our world…the enemy seems to be winning. Evil is rampant. Lies are believed to be truth. The spirit of the antichrist is everywhere. God seems removed and silent in many ways. Despair, discouragement, and defeat are felt by God’s people. BUT then I have remembered, Saturday immediately precedes Sunday. This is the thought that has come like a laser beam of hope penetrating the horror of darkness. Does this mean that we are very close to Sunday?
Because Jesus is alive! He has risen from the dead! He sits on the throne at the center of the Universe as The King of kings and The Lord of lords! He is fully in charge. And He is coming!
Jesus has promised He will return to expose the evil and hidden agendas that seek to enslave and terrorize innocent people. He will rescue the victims. He will pronounce judgment and send to hell all the bad guys who refuse to repent of their sin. He will heal the maimed. He will raise the dead. He will set right all the wrong. Good will triumph over evil. Love will win. Peace and justice will be established.
Praise God! There is Hope! It may be “Saturday” in Boston, but Sunday is coming! Because Jesus is coming! Is He coming very soon?
Feb 28, 2013
Since the first day that you set your
mind to obtain understanding and to
humble yourself before your God,
your words were heard, and I have come
in response to them. But the prince of the
Persian kingdom resisted me twenty-one days…
Now I have come… Daniel 10:12-14
Sometimes I seem to get “stuck in prayer.” I pray and pray. I claim Scripture, holding God to His Word. I re-examine the request to make sure it’s in line with God’s will. And still… nothing. It’s as though something is blocking the answer. Resisting it. What I need is a Breakthrough!
This past month, God has encouraged me through a passage He seemed to highlight in my personal devotions from 2 Samuel 23:13-16. In this portion of Scripture, David was hiding from the enemy in the Cave of Adullam when he expressed his longing, Oh, that someone would get me a drink of water from the well near the gate of Bethlehem. Bethlehem was off-limits because it was behind the enemy lines. Philistines were camped all over that entire area. However, three of David’s mighty men heard him voice his desire, risked their lives to break through the enemy lines, got the water, and brought it back to him.
As I was thinking through David’s situation, I continued my devotional reading and came across Psalm145:19, which promises: He will fulfill the desire of those who fear Him; He will also hear their cry and will save them. (NASB) God seemed to whisper in my heart that the Father, His Son, and the Holy Spirit were the three Mighty Ones who had heard my desire for a fresh outpouring of Living Water. They had not just risked life, but the Son had sacrificed His life in order to break through the enemy lines to make the Water available and accessible, and would pour it out on those for whom I was praying.
So I am praising God for His power to Breakthrough!
Jan 22, 2013
And I will do whatever you ask in My name,
so that the Son may bring glory to the Father.
You may ask Me for anything in My name,
and I will do it. John 14:13-14
My days in December were devoted to hovering over my husband in the hospital. On the morning during the first week of the hospitalization when the dreaded diagnosis of a MRSA infection was confirmed, the above verses were in my devotional reading. I read them, then went mechanically to the next phase of my reading. Even as I moved on, I knew I was covering up the fact that I didn’t really believe those verses. Not at that moment. Or at least, they didn’t seem to be true for me. But instead of repressing my uneasy thoughts, I went back to the verses. This time when I read them, I said as softly and respectfully as I could, “Lord, these verses don’t seem to work for me.” In response, all I heard was silence. So I repeated my thought, this time a little more vehemently, “God, I know Your Word is true, but these promises don’t seem to be true for me. I’m struggling with the fact that I have been asking You to heal Danny and make him better, and he has gotten decidedly worse. He has MRSA!” Again, all I heard was silence. So I waited. To my mind, came a gentle whisper…Anne, I will do whatever you ask when it’s in My will. That brought me up short. In My will? Surely it was in His will to make Danny better. So I inquired, “Don’t You want Danny to get well? Why have You allowed this to happen to him? Lord, what is Your will for him?” And again, so softly it was more of an impression than a whisper, I felt what He wanted to do for Danny was something on the inside. Something spiritual. Not physical.
So I began praying differently. I began to ask God to give Danny a fresh touch from heaven. I began asking God to give him a glimpse of the Lord, seated on a throne…to give him a vision of the glory of Jesus Christ such as had been given to Isaiah when something bad had happened in his life, too (Isaiah 6:1-8). I fervently asked Him to use the infection, and all the trauma that went with it, to revive Danny on the inside.
Immediately, I saw the Spirit of God begin to work. Miracle after miracle. Blessing after blessing. Mornings and evenings especially, as we shared Scripture and prayed together, whether it was just the two of us, or with other family members present, I glimpsed evidence of a deep spiritual renewal on the inside of Danny Lotz.
And then God restored him physically. He was home for Christmas Day. Then he returned home for good on December 28th. I could almost hear the choirs of Heaven singing Glory, Hallelujah, to the One who is still seated on the throne! Even now, weeks later, I can see the glow of revival fire in Danny’s eyes, and hear it in the tone of his voice.
So I humbly bow my head and thank God for re-teaching me a life-lesson. He has reminded me that when I pray, I am not to assert my will, demanding and expecting Him to do what I ask. And I am not to assume that I know what God’s will is. Instead, I am to ask Him what He wants. I am to ask Him how I can pray so that His will is done here in my life and in the lives of my loved ones, as it is done in Heaven.
Something else He taught me: praying in His will takes the struggle out of unanswered prayer.
As a young girl I once saw an old black-and-white Cecil B. DeMille film on the life of Jesus, titled “King of Kings.” The film was very moving, and when I watched the crucifixion scene, I began to weep. I realized Jesus had died for me and that my sin had nailed Him to the cross. As a result, I confessed my sin to God and told Him I was sorry. I thanked Jesus for dying for my sin and asked God to forgive me. I told Him I believed Jesus had risen from the dead, and I invited Him to come live in my heart. I don’t remember any dramatic sensation afterward, but I knew my sin had been forgiven and I had been born again. That prayer began a love relationship with Jesus that is more real to me than any other. And I would like to share it with you…
