Tag Archives: Prayer

Chapter-a-Day

Learning the Lesson (or Not)

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Then the Lord said to me: “Even if Moses and Samuel were to stand before me, my heart would not go out to this people. Send them away from my presence! Let them go!”
Jeremiah 15:1 (NIV)

I was really struggling with my current waypoint on this life journey. I knew where God had led me and was continuing to lead me but I didn’t want it. At least, I was afraid of it for all sorts of reasons. I wanted to run away.

One Sunday morning we were among our local gathering of Jesus’ followers. Every week there are people available to pray with and over those whoever needs it. I thought about going up for prayer, but was fighting with myself internally about doing so. Then, ironically, Wendy leaned over and whispered in my ear that she thought I should go up for prayer.

As my spiritual sister was praying over me, her hand on my heart, she suddenly just stopped praying. She was quiet and said nothing for a long moment. She then told me that, in her mind’s eye, she had been given an image of me as a little boy. “It’s like the first day of school and you know you need to go. You know it’s the right place for you to be, but you’re anxious and afraid and don’t want to be there. Father God just wants you to take His hand. He will walk with you where you need to go.”

I began to weep.

You see, what she didn’t know is that when I was a child, on the first day of school, my mom had to take me kicking and screaming into my kindergarten class. In fact, a few minutes into the class I got up, ran out the door and ran all the way home to plead with my mom not to make me go. My kindergarten teacher ran down the sidewalk after me. She was wearing heels. I got the “Walk” sign at the traffic light on the corner. Of course, mom drug me right back to school kicking, screaming, and crying. I recall her having to do so several times in those first weeks.

When I told my dear sister this, and why I was crying, we then shed a few tears together and a hug.

Here I am over 50 years later and I’m spiritually still having to learn the same lesson that I had to physically learn when I was five years old.

The story of God’s relationship with the Hebrew people is, in itself, a word picture of spiritual lessons like the one I just described.

God delivered the Hebrew people from being slaves in Egypt. Working through Moses, God pursued, delivered, provided for and then made a covenant with the Hebrew tribes to be in relationship with them just like a husband and wife make a covenant to be in relationship with one another.

Fast forward about 800 years and the marriage between God and the Hebrews is on the rocks. She’s a serial adulterer constantly breaking covenant and chasing after other gods.

In today’s chapter, God begins with the statement that even if Moses were to stand before Him to plead for the Hebrew people, it wouldn’t not change His mind. He then says “Let them go!”

What did God through Moses repeatedly tell Pharaoh?

“Let my people go!”

Later in the chapter, God says, “I will enslave you to your enemies in a land you do not know.”

The Hebrews had not spiritually learned the lesson that God was trying to physically teach them in their infancy as a nation. God physically freed them from slavery in Egypt only to have the Hebrews spiritually give themselves over to be slaves of sin and idolatry. The consequences? Back to physical slavery in Babylon to learn the lesson that wasn’t learned 800 years earlier.

In the quiet this morning, I’m reminded of an observation I’ve repeatedly made along my spiritual journey. God doesn’t work like the American educational system in which you keep moving up a grade whether or not you actually learned anything during the school year. In God’s Kingdom system, I have to actually learn the lesson before I get to move up to the next level of spiritual maturity. Jesus expressed frustration with His disciples regularly. “Where is your faith?” He would ask along with “Why are you so afraid?” When those same disciples couldn’t drive the demon out of a boy, Jesus responded, “You unbelieving and perverse generation. How long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you?”

When Paul wrote the believers in Corinth he complained that they should have spiritually matured to eating solid food, but they were spiritually still bottle feeding on milk. It’s possible, he implies, for people to remain spiritual babes sucking on the bottle and never graduate to solid food.

It’s possible for the Hebrews to have never learned the spiritual lessons of God’s very real deliverance, protection, and provision during the Exodus.

It’s possible for me to have not learned the very real lesson of kindergarten and to be spiritually afraid and anxious of where I know I need to go and am being led by God’s hand.

In the quiet this morning, I enter this Good Friday mindful of Jesus going where He needed to go, led by the Father’s hand. I’m equally mindful of the reality that it is possible for me to be freed and delivered from my enslavement to sin, only to willingly allow myself to be enslaved once more. And God will let me enslave myself just as He let the Hebrews enslave themselves, if I fail to learn the lesson.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

A Pattern of P.R.A.Y.E.R.

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A Pattern of P.R.A.Y.E.R. (CaD Dan 9) – Wayfarer

So I turned to the Lord God and pleaded with him in prayer and petition, in fasting, and in sackcloth and ashes.
Daniel 9:3 (NIV)

Like most couples I know, Wendy and I are very different in temperament. Along this life journey, I’ve observed that there is a lot of truth to the adage that opposites attract. Most couples I’ve ever known have been very different. In general, I think this makes for good partnerships between people who need the strengths of their husband or wife to help make up for weaknesses in their own temperaments. Like Rocky explained about his love for Adrian: “I got gaps. She got gaps. Together, we fill gaps, y’know?”

The challenge comes when our differences become buried seeds of anger and bitterness rather than the grateful acknowledgment that, despite being annoying, our differences can help one another understand the goodness of other ways of thinking, communicating, and being.

Just last night, there arose a flash of conflict between Wendy and me rooted in the stark difference in the way we think and operate. Wendy is an external processor who likes to talk through even the smallest of daily decisions. I am an internal processor who takes a casual remark, has an internal conversation about it in my head, and then outputs an assumption of what was meant. There are positives and negatives to both external and internal processing. If we can graciously overcome our occasionally acute annoyances with our differences, we can gratefully learn from one another.

In my spiritual journey, I’ve always operated from the foundational understanding that prayer is a conversation of spirit between me and God. Conversations between me and Wendy can look very different at different moments. We often have quick, utility conversations about what needs to be done and who is doing what on the task list. We regularly have casual conversations about the news of the day or something one of us heard on a podcast. We occasionally have rather intense “come to Jesus” conversations when an intimate issue needs to be confronted between us. When time and space allow, we have deeply personal conversations about where each of us is spiritually, emotionally, physically, and/or relationally. Each conversation can look very different.

In the same way, I’ve always found that conversations with God take different forms at different moments. I’ve written about “popcorn prayers” that get uttered at the moment like popping my head into Wendy’s office to ask what she was thinking for dinner. I also write letters to God because writing gives me time to think and process and I find that there’s something good for me in physically getting my thoughts out on a page.

Daniel’s prayer in today’s chapter jumped out at me as I read it today, not for the words, but for the pattern:

  • He began by preparing himself with humility that included fasting and ritual before he even launched into his conversation (vs. 3).
  • He began, just like the Chain Reaction of Praise, with words of praise and worship acknowledging God’s greatness and love (vs. 4).
  • He then launches into an honest confession of the many ways he and his people have fallen short and an acknowledgment of the consequences of those sins. (vss. 5-14).
  • As he confesses, Daniel continues to recognize God’s righteousness, mercy, forgiveness, and deliverance (vs. 7, 9, 15).
  • It is only after all of this that Daniel utters his actual petition before God (vss. 16-19).

As I meditated on this in the quiet this morning, I thought Daniel’s prayer to be a great template I can follow when I am bringing emotional and heartfelt requests to God. I could even use this acrostic:

Prepare with humility
Raise up words of praise and worship
Acknowledge God’s righteousness, love, and mercy
Yield my failures and faults in confession
Esteem God’s goodness as you confess and…
Request your needs and desires

Marriage has taught me that improving communication is always an opportunity for improvement no matter how long we’ve been in the relationship. The same is true of my relationship with God. I can always improve my communication, and sometimes that happens by learning a new pattern of prayer.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

The Filling Station

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The Filling Station (CaD Dan 6) – Wayfarer

Now when Daniel learned that the decree had been published, he went home to his upstairs room where the windows opened toward Jerusalem. Three times a day he got down on his knees and prayed, giving thanks to his God, just as he had done before.
Daniel 6:10 (NIV)

Along my life journey as a disciple of Jesus and wayfaring stranger, I’ve learned that the path of the Spirit is one of developing spiritual disciplines that, in turn, birth spiritual rhythms as I press on toward my destination. My daily time in the quiet is like a “filling station” on my life journey. I mean “filling station” metaphorically in the old sense of the world before GPS and cell phones. In those days, stopping at a “filling station” was not only about filling up on energy and provision, but also an opportunity to look at the state map that hung on every filling station’s wall. Wayfarers would stand and stare at the map to check their location and their destination to make sure they were on track. You might ask for directions or advice about the road ahead. You would gauge how far you’d come, and how far you had to go to the next waypoint.

Today’s chapter is another one of the more famous stories within the Great Story. The book of Daniel is filled with them, reminding God’s people that the exile in Babylon was not about God abandoning them, but about God’s faithfulness in the worst of times. It was about learning to trust God in the hardest stretches of life’s road.

The new ruler of Babylon is conned into declaring that, for one month, anyone who prays to any man or deity other than the ruler of Babylon will be thrown into the lions’ den. They did this knowing that Daniel prayed to God multiple times daily, and they guessed that he would not obey the decree just as his friends Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refused to bow to Nebuchadnezzar back in the day.

Daniel’s enemies were correct. I thought it fascinating that after hearing about the decree, Daniel went home to kneel and pray “as he had always done before.” He wasn’t hitting his knees just because of the decree, he was hitting his knees because it’s what he always did, every day, three times a day. He had developed a spiritual discipline that gave birth to the spiritual rhythms of trust, faith, and perseverance. We are not told what Daniel said when they came for him, but I imagine it was a form of the same thing his friends said when threatened with the fiery furnace: “My God will save me, but even if He does not, I will never pray to anyone or anything but the God of Heaven.

Daniel’s faith did not present itself miraculously at the moment he needed it. Each day along his life journey, Daniel disciplined himself to spiritually stop and visit the filling station. Each day, with each stop, Daniel’s faith grew, developed, stretched, and was exercised so that he was fully prepared to trust God when life’s road led in and through the lions’ den.

Filled up with that thought this morning, it’s time for me to pull out of the filling station and head back out on life’s road.

Today’s featured image created with Wonder AI.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

An Easy Thing

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An Easy Thing (CaD 2 Ki 3) – Wayfarer

This is an easy thing in the eyes of the Lord…
2 Kings 3:18a (NIV)

I woke up this morning in a fog. I was having really strange dreams and my brain didn’t want to wake up. I really just wanted to go back to bed. Nevertheless, I got to my office and pulled out my journal to write my morning pages. I scribble out 2-3 pages, stream-of-consciousness style. Whatever is on my heart and mind I pour it onto the page. I try to keep the pen moving and not let my brain wander down rabbit trails which then causes my hand to stop writing. That’s hard for me. I have a very active inner world.

Out of the brain fog, my hand began scribbling out some of my fears about what God is doing, or not doing, and my doubts about what He is doing and will do. These are the fears and doubts that my conscious brain stuffs deep down most of the time. Then they ooze out the side in strange places and ways. I began to counter these doubts and fears by scribbling out words of affirmation and declarations of faith.

“Open the doors. You can open the floodgates,” I wrote in my scribbled prayer.

Having finished my morning pages, I read today’s chapter. The Kings of Israel, Judah, and Edom go on a campaign against the Kingdom of Moab, marching their army through the desert of Edom. It is hot and they run out of water for themselves and their animals. The campaign is doomed. But the King of Judah asks if there’s a prophet of the Lord nearby, and an officer says that Elisha is. Elisha is called and prophesies that even though the armies will not experience rain or a storm, yet the valley will fill with water.

“This is an easy thing in the eyes of the Lord,” Elijah states.

Sure enough, God opened the floodgates and the next morning the river beds were full of water.

Oh, me of little faith. Some mornings I find the synchronicity between my heart and the Great Story amazing in humbling ways.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself simply embracing the reality that what I need and desire is “an easy thing in the eyes of the Lord.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

My Good Luck Charm

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My Good Luck Charm (CaD 1 Sam 4) – Wayfarer

When the soldiers returned to camp, the elders of Israel asked, “Why did the Lord bring defeat on us today before the Philistines? Let us bring the ark of the Lord’s covenant from Shiloh, so that he may go with us and save us from the hand of our enemies.”
1 Samuel 4:3 (NIV)

When I was a child I can remember praying for the silliest of things. I prayed for my favorite teams to win, sometimes fervently. I prayed for certain girls to like me. I was 10 years old when the United States celebrated our Bicentennial, and I have distinct memories of praying that God would let me live to 110 so I could celebrate the Tricentennial. That sounds more like a burden than a blessing from my current waypoint on life’s road.

In yesterday’s chapter, the author of Samuel made the point that while the boy Samuel had grown up living and serving in the Tabernacle of God, he did not yet know God. I find that an incredibly important observation. Looking back, that was one of the reasons my prayers were silly and self-centered. I didn’t have a relationship with God. I knew about Him, but I didn’t know Him. God wasn’t Lord of my life and I wasn’t a follower of Jesus. At that point in my spiritual journey, my prayers were indicators that I considered God my personal good luck charm.

Today’s chapter is the fulfillment of the prophetic words spoken against the high priest, Eli, and his sons. The people of Israel were embroiled in a battle against the neighboring Philistines. Remembering their history and the fact that in the days of Moses God brought victory when the Ark of the Covenant was carried before the people, they called for the Ark to be brought from the Tabernacle in Shiloh to the battlefield. Eli’s sons, Hophni and Phinehas are happy to oblige.

I think it’s important to note that those historic examples of the Ark being carried before the Hebrews were from the days of Moses and Joshua. There were men who knew God and their actions were sourced in God’s specific instructions to and through them. The Ark was carried before the people in the context of God’s divine revelation to God’s appointed ruler.

The corrupt priests Hophni and Phinehas, along with the entire Hebrew army, are treating the Ark of the Covenant like their national good luck charm. It doesn’t go well for them.

The Hebrews lose the battle, Hophni and Phinehas are killed, and the Ark of the Covenant is taken as a spoil of war. When Eli hears that the Ark had been taken, the fat 98-year-old priest falls off his chair and breaks his neck. I find it an ironic, almost Shakespeare-like end to the house of Eli. The fulfillment of God’s prophesied end comes from the consequences of their own presumptuous, self-centered, and divinely ignorant actions.

In the quiet this morning, I find this sad end an apt reminder. As a follower of Jesus, I am to follow where I am led by Jesus, not take Jesus with me wherever I want to go like He’s a personal good luck charm.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Habakkuk’s Cry

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Habakkuk's Cry (CaD Hab 1) – Wayfarer

Why do you make me look at injustice?
    Why do you tolerate wrongdoing?
Destruction and violence are before me;
    there is strife, and conflict abounds.
Therefore the law is paralyzed,
    and justice never prevails.
The wicked hem in the righteous,
    so that justice is perverted.
Habakkuk 1:3-4 (NIV)

I have known many fellow followers of Jesus over the years who would confess to never willingly cracking open the Old Testament unless under the social pressure of being asked to do so during a Sunday worship service. Even if they said they “occasionally” read from the Old Testament on their own, I’m sure that reading would be confined to the books of Psalms and Proverbs. Okay, maybe a few chapters of Genesis or one of the short stories like Ruth or Esther. If I were to ask them, “When was the last time you read the prophet Habakkuk?” they would probably just laugh at me. I’d wager that hearing a pastor say, “Let’s all open to the book of Habakkuk!” is maybe a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence.

We live in a world in which things “trend” on social media for minutes before being buried by another “trend.” Current events likewise dominate media and social media for a day or two tops before media and social media is on to the next hot topic in search of clicks and likes.

So what could an ancient Hebrew prophet have to say in 600 B.C. that is in any way relevant to my world today?

Let me walk through the verses I pasted at the top of this post:

“Why [God] do you make me look at injustice?
    Why [God] do you tolerate wrongdoing?“

Like mules leaving almost 50 dead immigrants rotting in the back of a tractor trailer?

Like drug cartels flooding the streets with opioids killing people in record numbers and never being held accountable?

“Destruction and violence are before me;“

Like mass shooters opening fire in schools, churches, and malls?

Like demonstrations that torch entire neighborhoods of minority-owned businesses and end with dead bodies lying in the street?

“there is strife, and conflict abounds“

Like individuals breaking off relationships with friends and family because they disagree on issues?

Like name calling, insults, and threats calling for death, murder, and assassination on social media?

Like political division between factions who refuse to compromise?

“Therefore the law is paralyzed,“

Like 400 law enforcement personnel who stood outside a classroom as children were being shot?

Like the headline I just read in this morning’s Wall Street Journal: “Who Would Want to Be a Police Officer in Seattle?”

“and justice never prevails“

Like the fact that not one of Jeffery Epstein’s high-profile customers has been named or indicted for raping underage girls?

Like political corruption that gets ignored and swept under the rug for the “greater good” of keeping a political party of choice in power?

The prophet Habakkuk lived in a period of political corruption, crime, violence, war, and social upheaval under a corrupt king and a nefarious ruling class. He pens his poetic dialogue with the Almighty and opens with a line that aptly described the questions of my own soul as I daily read the headlines:

How long, Lord, must I call for help,
    but you do not listen?
Or cry out to you, “Violence!”
    but you do not save?

It felt pretty relevant to me in the quiet as I read the chapter this morning. Habakkuk is giving voice to questions and sentiments that are echoed throughout history and will always resonate in a fallen world that is the domain of the “Prince of this World,” in which evil is present, and worldly kingdoms and institutions hold sway.

It is easy to feel as if God is both silent and absent.

Habakkuk’s short, poetic dialogue with God has a simple outline:

Question one: Why are you silent and will not act against injustice?

God’s answer: Just wait. I’m going to raise up the Babylonians to bring about the justice that I’ve been announcing through you and other prophets like your peer Jeremiah for some time now. I’ve been patiently listening for people to listen and repent. That’s not happening, so get ready.

Question two: Serious?!? Why would you use the evil Babylonians?!?

Tomorrow’s chapter is God’s answer to this second question.

In the quiet this morning, I found myself identifying with Habakkuk’s questions. In the middle of writing this post, I went downstairs to have breakfast with Wendy and we perused the headlines. Habakkuk’s lines kept resonating in my head and heart as I read.

God’s response also echoed. Within the Great Story, faith is defined as “the assurance of what we hope for, the evidence of that which we can’t see.” That includes the reality that God appears to be silent, and it seems like God is not doing anything, but I have limited, finite human senses and knowledge. So, my heart cries out like Habakkuk.

Having just finished the book of Revelations, I know that God has promised to bring divine justice to the earth one day and deal with evil and the fruits of evil once-and-for-all. Until then, my prayerful cries of “How long, oh Lord?” rise as incense in heaven’s Throne Room along with your cries, and everyone else’s cries.

When will God make good on His promised judgment?

I don’t know.

I have faith that He will.

Until then, I’ll keep crying out along with brother Habakkuk.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Childish Notions

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Childish Notions (CaD Jud 11) – Wayfarer

And Jephthah made a vow to the Lord: “If you give the Ammonites into my hands, whatever comes out of the door of my house to meet me when I return in triumph from the Ammonites will be the Lord’s, and I will sacrifice it as a burnt offering.”
Judges 11:30-31 (NIV)

As a boy, I remember that my prayers were often contract negotiations. In my childhood, prayer was something that happened on three occasions outside of church. There was the prayer before meals which consisted of dad saying the Lord’s prayer or his other stock pre-meal prayer followed by all four kids chanting the simple pre-meal prayer in Dutch that grandma and grandpa Vander Well taught us. Then there was the bedtime prayer, which was the stock “Now I lay me down to sleep” version. The third occasion for prayer was when I desperately wanted something to happen and I had no control over it.

Examples of these things that I desperately wanted typically involved girls. For the record, I never experienced the “girls a dumb” phase of boyhood. I had my first crush in Kindergarten and things only grew more intense from there. There were also the four Super Bowls in my childhood that involved the Minnesota Vikings. Those were, perhaps, the most desperate contract negotiations with God of all time. History will tell you how that worked out for me. I’m sure I made God all sorts of promises and vows on those Super Bowl Sundays. Sports, in particular, were the catalyst for contractual prayers: “God, if you see to it that my team wins, then I will….”

Today’s chapter is one of the most difficult and disturbing in all of the Great Story. It involves a man named Jephthah who utters a contractual prayer as a vow to God. If God grants him victory then he’ll sacrifice the first thing that walks out of his home as a burnt offering to God. He is victorious, and the first thing that walks out of his home is his only child, a young daughter.

I am fond of remembering that these stories come out of the toddler stage of human civilization when humanity’s knowledge and understanding of life, self, and God was about as developed as your average three-to-five-year-old is today. There are a couple of other contextual observations I must ponder as I mull over this tragic story. One is that the author of Judges reminds me twice that during this period of time “everyone did as they saw fit” (17:6; 21:25). Jephthah’s vow was incongruent with God’s law, yet this was also a time when the Hebrew people regularly worshipped the gods of neighboring peoples and participated in their rituals, including deities like Chemosh and Milkom. It is well documented that these religions would at times practice child sacrifices and the practice was viewed as a very serious act of religious devotion. In Jephthah’s day, his actions were, sadly, understood and accepted. His actions stand as an example of why God so desperately wanted His people to forsake these other religions.

Paul wrote in his epic love chapter: “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.” As I look back at my childhood and my childish notions about God and life, I am both amused and ashamed to have thought and believed such things. At the same time, they stand as a benchmark and a reminder of my spiritual progress over fifty-some years. The real tragedy would be to look back and find that my spiritual understanding had never progressed beyond contractual negotiation for trivial gain.

In the quiet this morning, that’s how I find myself viewing and mourning Jephthah’s tragic story. After over 40 years of reading and studying the Great Story, I am mindful that it contains stories that are examples to follow and stories that are warnings and examples to avoid. Today’s chapter is the latter.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Evolution of Conversation

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Evolution of Conversation (CaD Jos 10) – Wayfarer

There has never been a day like it before or since, a day when the Lord listened to a human being. Surely the Lord was fighting for Israel!
Joshua 10:14 (NIV)

Communication between parent and child changes so much over time. Wendy and I are loving watching our kids parent a four-year-old, and hearing the silly things that our grandson comes up with. The last I heard, Milo’s recommended name for the little sister in mommy’s tummy was “Harry Houdini.” Hey, the kid has a point. She does still have yet to escape the womb.

Conversations with my daughters changed and evolved over time. From the simple discussions with a toddler to the incessant “why” phase and then the years of instruction to navigating the life changes of adolescence. Then come the years of parental exile when it becomes obvious I’m not high on the conversational priority list. As they leave the nest, there begins a phase of requesting help and answering questions about the functional “how-tos” of life on your own which leads also to more adult conversation in which more complex topics are addressed, including the hard conversations required to address unresolved issues from the past.

I have always talked about the fact that humanity’s relationship with God across time reflects the development of the relationship between a parent and child from birth to adulthood.

In today’s chapter, we’re still in the toddler stages of humanity’s relationship with God. Joshua and the army continue their conquest of the land of Canaan. First, their new allies, the Gibeonites, are attacked by a coalition of neighboring forces and cry out to Joshua for help. After defeating this coalition of forces, the army continues a campaign to subdue the region.

In one fascinating aside, Joshua cries out to God to stop the sun and moon. Interpretations of this event vary. Literalists believe that God miraculously stopped time. Others argue that the sun and moon in the sky together were a bad omen for their opponents and Joshua wanted to extend the fear. What struck me, however, was the author’s observation that this was a first, that God would listen to a human being.

This being a momentous event, that of God listening to a human being, struck me because, in my post-Jesus reality, I am encouraged to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thess 5:17). Jesus encouraged His followers to literally “ask, seek, and knock” in prayer, explaining that a good father wouldn’t give a stone to his child if asked for bread (Matt. 5:7-11). Prayer is such a continuous part of my inner dialogue and my daily life, that it is hard for me to fathom a reality in which I didn’t think God would listen, and respond.

Humanity’s relationship with God has changed drastically between the days of Joshua and today. The very act of prayer has developed and evolved over time. I also can’t forget that with a Creator God, everything that He makes is layered with meaning. This development and evolution of communication also took place within my spiritual life cycle. From the moment I was “born again” in spirit to the place I am on my spiritual journey 40 years later, my relationship and conversations with God have grown, developed, and matured.

God’s relationship with humanity. My relationship with my parents. My children’s relationship with me. My relationship with God. My relationship with others. There is a natural growth and development of communication that takes place over time. In each relationship, I have a responsibility for the communication on my end. If I fail in that responsibility, the relationship suffers and may even die.

Thus saith the Mandalorian: “This is the way.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Vertical and Horizontal

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Vertical and Horizontal (CaD Heb 13) – Wayfarer

Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that openly profess his name. And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.
Hebrews 13:15-16 (NIV)

I began yesterday with coffee and an English muffin at a friend’s office. We chatted about what is going on in each other’s lives. We shared about the challenges we’re facing with family, work, and our bodies that are feeling the natural strains of age. We prayed together. It was a good start to the day.

It was St. Patrick’s Day, so Wendy and I knocked off of work a little early and met friends in the late afternoon for a pint and some Irish music. As the after-work crowds began to swell we were on our way to pick up pizza and retire to their house where we continued sharing life and conversation. Their college-age child was home on Spring Break and we got the whole 411 on life, studies, and relationships at school.

It was a fun day. It was late by the time we returned home.

In today’s final chapter of Hebrews, the author wraps up his letter with more exhortations to the Hebrew followers of Jesus for whom the letter was addressed. Throughout these instructions are more than subtle allusions to the old sacrificial system of Moses that the author has argued was fulfilled by Jesus and is no longer valid or necessary.

In that old system, there were all sorts of ritual religious sacrifices that an individual was expected to make in order to stay in good standing with God. Of course, like all religious rituals, it is possible for a person to go through the motions without there being a heart or life change, and the author has argued that Jesus has provided the once-for-all sacrifice through His death and resurrection.

“So, are there no more sacrifices?” the author hears his readers asking.

Yes, the author answers. The sacrifice of self just as Jesus taught that His followers must take up their own cross in following Him. Jesus’ word picture tells me that I’m supposed to die to myself, to sacrifice myself for God and others. The author provides a picture of this in continuous sacrifices that are both vertical (me to God) and horizontal (me to others). The vertical sacrifice is that I consciously, willfully stay connected to God through offering my praise and prayer (which is simply conversation). The horizontal sacrifice is my goodness and generosity towards others. Not just physical gifts and needs, but also the generosity and goodness of life and spirit through relationships and sharing the life journey together.

Which made me think of my day yesterday. Along my life journey, I’ve experienced that good relationships, the kind that is mutually and spiritually life-giving, require the ongoing generosity of time, conscious thought, intention, energy, vulnerability, and grace. Over time and in every case, every one of those ingredients becomes sacrificial for me as my friends may need more from me at certain times than I can comfortably provide. But the same is true on the other side of the equation. I need them at times and in ways that require their sacrificial generosity.

With Jesus, I can never get around the reality that He emptied Himself, left heaven, came to Earth, and endured the suffering of a horrific death. He sacrificed everything for me. I can ignore that fact. I might allow other thoughts and distractions to drive it from my mind, but it’s always there. What is asked of me in return? To live in a relationship that is essentially no different than my horizontal ones: time, conscious thought, intention, energy, vulnerability, and generosity that comes out in worship, prayer, life, obedience, trust, hope, and perseverance.

I’m grateful this morning for life-giving relationships, both horizontal and vertical.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

The Old Couple Who Lived Up on the Hill

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The Old Couple Who Lived Up on the Hill (CaD Matt 20) – Wayfarer

“…they began to grumble against the landowner.  ‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’

“But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’”
Matthew 20:11-15 (NIV)

I was surprised to get the call. I barely knew the old couple who lived up on the hill. I’d visited them once or twice, despite people telling me not to waste my time. They’d been described as cold, grouchy, and cantankerous, but I found them pleasant enough. I don’t think they ever learned my name. I was always just “Preacher,” which I discovered happens a lot when you’re the pastor of the only church in a small town.

Granted, I don’t ever remember talking to them about much of anything except the safe pleasantries of rural Iowa conversation between acquaintances. I asked them about their lives and their stories. We drank coffee and enjoyed the quiet majesty of the view from their house, which overlooked the rolling Iowa countryside. I never invited them to church. I don’t recall that Jesus ever came up in our conversations.

The call came late in the afternoon, asking me to come immediately to the ICU unit of the regional hospital about a half-hour’s drive away. The moment I walked into the room and saw the old man who lived up on the hill, I knew the situation. I reached out and took his hand.

“You’re dying, aren’t you?” I asked gently as I took his hand and smiled.

He nodded, wordlessly.

“You don’t know where you’re going when it happens, do you?” I asked.

He shook his head.

I shared about Jesus in the simplest of terms. He listened. I asked if he’d like me to pray with him for Christ to come into heart and life.

“Yes,” he said.

By the time our short, child-like prayer was done, the tears were streaming down his cheeks. He was suddenly filled with an energy that seemed absent in his mind and body just moments before,

“Preacher!? You have to go visit my wife. Right now. Tell her what you told me. Tell her I want her to have Jesus in her heart, too. Go. Now. Right now.”

So I went, and I did as he asked. I shared in the simplest of terms. I offered to lead her in prayer as I had her husband. She prayed. She cried. I told her I would come back and visit to check on them, but I never got the chance.

He died in the ICU unit a few hours later,

A few hours after he passed on, she followed him, dying quietly at home.

I did the funeral in our little Community church with both caskets sitting in front of me. It was a tiny gathering. They hadn’t built many positive relationships in their lives. I got to share about the call, our visit, their prayers, and I talked about it never being too late to give one’s life to Christ.

After the service, I was approached by an elderly couple who told me that they had, for many years, ceaselessly visited the old couple on the hill. They’d loved on them, they’d shared Jesus with them, they’d begged them to ask Jesus into their hearts. They’d been rejected time and time again. And while they seemed glad to hear that the old couple on the hill had finally made the decision, I felt a hint of indignation underneath the surface. They’d done all the work and seemingly experienced no reward for their spiritual labor. I showed up at the last minute to harvest what they’d been sowing for all those years.

That experience came to mind this morning as I read Jesus’ parable of the workers in the vineyard. I find that there are certain parables that mean more to me the further I advance in this life journey, and this is one of them. Each group of workers agrees to work for the same wage, but when the workers who slaved away all day watch those who pitched in for the final hour receiving the same reward, they become indignant. I find it such a human response. It is neither fair nor equitable in human terms.

The economics of God’s Kingdom, however, doesn’t work like the economics of this world. That was Jesus’ point, and He famously pins this epilogue to His parable: “So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

In the quiet this morning as I mull over the story of the old couple who lived up on the hill, I find myself asking about the motives of my own heart. Why have I followed Jesus these forty years? I find that reward is not something I think much about. I have been so blessed in this life I just assume that I’ll be among the “the first shall be last” crowd, and that’s okay with me. The reward is not my motivation. It’s gratitude for what I received that I never deserved that fuel’s my journey. It’s Paul’s words of motivation that ring true in my soul: “Christ’s love compels us.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.