Tag Archives: 2 Corinthians 7

It’s Colder than the Arctic. Oh, the Joy!

I am greatly encouraged; in all our troubles my joy knows no bounds.
2 Corinthians 7:4b

Note to subscribers: I had a technical glitch publishing this post this morning with some nasty HTML coding issues. My apologies. I trashed the original post and am reposting, so you may have gotten two emails. Sorry. Maybe it’s the cold ūüėČ

I write this post from the depths of winter in Iowa. It’s -13 as I tap out these words, which is a bit warmer than it was yesterday. This morning I woke up to find our hot water heater isn’t working. Lovely.

Just a week or so ago I was sitting in O’Hare airport in Chicago chatting with a wonderfully gregarious transplant from New Zealand. He was complaining about the weather extremes he’s learned to live with here in the midwest of North America. It reminded me of an observation Garrison Keillor once made: Living in the midwest is like spending your summers in Death Valley and your winters in the Arctic. Indeed. Here’s the headline from the Des Moines Register on Tuesday:

 

Article Headline from Des Moines Register, January 29, 2019.

Along the journey we face all kinds of different challenges. While it’s human to grumble and complain, I often find it personally necessary to make myself put things in context. This morning’s chapter provided it for me.

In writing to the followers of Jesus in Corinth, Paul references “all our troubles.” Later in the letter he provides specifics. Let me jump ahead for the sake of today’s thought. Paul writes:

“I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received the forty lashes minus one.(Note: 39 lashes¬†with a scourge was the ancient prescription to bring the punished to the point of death without letting them actually slip into the comfort of death).¬†Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was pelted with stones (Note: Paul’s would be executioners actually believed they had successfully stoned him to death. His body was carried and dumped outside the city of Lystra and left for dead.), three times I was shipwrecked (Note: He doesn’t mention the venomous snake bite that should have killed him.), I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move (Note: Scholars say that Paul logged some 10,000 miles during his journeys. That’s roughly 21,120,000 steps without a FitBit) . I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my fellow Jews, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false believers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked.

As I said: Context can be a good antidote for self-centered misery. It’s cold this morning and my water heater is broken. I am, however, in a warm house, with warm clothes, and a warm wife. The water heater guy will be by in a few hours to deal with the hot water problem. Boo-hoo for me.

What I found even more fascinating as I read Paul’s words today was that while he endured torture, stoning, shipwrecks, snakebites, imprisonment and the rest, he states that his “joy knows no bounds.”

Along this journey Wendy and I have learned a lot about joy (though I will freely confess that I know far less than Paul).¬†Joy¬†always jumps off the page at me, because it is one of those words that holds a lot of meaning for Wendy and me. We’ve learned from our journey together that joy is something deeper than a momentary feeling such as happiness which flits in and out with the ever shifting winds of circumstance. Joy comes from a deep spring. It’s not a surface, run-off emotion. You have to drill through bedrock of suffering to experience the flow of joy. It is a spiritual by-product of the three things that remain when all else is stripped away: faith, hope, and love.

In the quiet (and a blessedly warm home office) I am thankful this morning for the flow of joy that Wendy and I have come to experience, independent of whatever momentary personal circumstances we may be experiencing.

By the way, temperatures here in picturesque Pella, Iowa are forecast to be 57 degrees (above zero) on Sunday.

Context.

Stay warm, my friend. Have a great day.

Making Room

Make room for us in your hearts.
2 Corinthians 7:2 (NIV)

Wendy and I have been on a slow process this year of purging things from our possession. We’ve taken loads to the local thrift store for donation, sold things on Facebook, pitched things, and given things away. In some ways I don’t feel like we’ve made much of a dent. There seems always to be more stuff than room.

I was struck this morning by Paul’s appeal to the Jesus followers in Corinth to “make room for us in your hearts.” The word picture indicates that there is finite room in the heart just as there is finite room in a house. There is only so much room.

So how much stuff have I crammed in my heart?

What exactly have I crammed in there?

Is it bringing me an increase of Life, or is it just taking up space?

Are there things that should be in my heart but for the lack of room?

Paul’s word picture also assumes that we can make room in our hearts just as we make room in our house. Things can be purged, released, tossed away, and given away.

What have I crammed in my heart that is dead, lifeless, and taking up space?

I’m once again reminded of my word for 2017: empty. As I have meditated on empty I have come to realize that its significance for me is not as an adjective but as a verb. There are things in my life to be emptied. I’m prayerfully pondering this morning how my own heart might be one of them.

Confidence, Pride, & Encouragement

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I have the highest confidence in you, and I take great pride in you. You have greatly encouraged me and made me happy despite all our troubles. 2 Corinthians 7:4 (NLT)

Late this summer Wendy and I were blessed to have Wendy’s youngest sibling, Suzanna, come¬†and live with us. Suzanna is attending her final year of high school here at the local public high school and getting involved in some of the artistic exploits she loves and are available to her in our wonderful little community. Last night was parent teacher conferences and we headed over to check in with Suzanna’s teachers.¬†I must admit that¬†it was a bit surreal returning to the high school. Madison graduated three years ago and¬†I thought I¬†was finished. But,¬†you never know where the path will lead and what adventures lie ahead of us on the journey.

Having a teenager back in the house has prompted this father to a lot of personal reflection in the past few weeks. It has brought back a lot of memories, and even made me wax a little nostalgic for the days when Taylor and Madison buzzed back and forth in front of my home office and argued in the bathroom as they got ready for school in the mornings. It has been so quiet here on the 2nd floor of Vander Well Manor for so long.

As I read Paul’s words (above) I thought of¬†Taylor and Madison¬†who are grown and¬†have struck out on their own respective paths.¬†I have such confidence in them, am so proud of them, and am so encouraged to see the amazing women they have become. I thought of our sister, Suzanna, and the glowing comments we heard from teachers last night at parent teacher conferences. I am blown away by her courage to take a step of faith, enter a new community, attend a new school, and stretch herself in almost every way. She is proving herself to be such a capable, intelligent, articulate¬†young woman in so many ways. We are blessed to share this time of life with her.

I have always believed that job one for a parent, starting day one, is to work yourself out of a job by raising children who can capably and successfully strike out on their own faith journey, make their own way in this world, and have their own positive influence on the lives of others. To watch it actually happen is the source of tremendous encouragement, pride, and joy.