Promises, Promises

Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates. – Deuteronomy 6:4-9

Promises, promises.

We all make them. Often flippantly. If we understood how God feels about vows that are broken, how far we stray from his image when we take lightly that which we have said we will do or not do, we would make fewer promises and we would hold to them more relentlessly.

God never breaks his promises. You can be sure that his word is true. So many of his words have already been fulfilled, and a few are left undone, waiting until that perfect time when it will be so.

Tomorrow morning my husband and I will stand before our brothers and sisters with our newborn daughter and make a promise – the same promise we made when her sister and brother were born. We’ll make this promise to the Lord: that we will raise this child to know him. We will give our all to seeing that the Word is planted in her heart as a seed, and we will water and nourish and spend ourselves for that little soul, and when all is said and done we will pray with fervency for her growth into a child of God, and a follower of Christ. We will talk about him when we sit and home and when we walk along the road, when we lie down and when we get up.

If I were counting upon myself or my husband to get all of this done for Talia, I wouldn’t be able to stand up and make this promise with him. I’m so thankful to God that he honors our promises made with trepidation, that he fills us with his spirit and enables us to do what we had no idea how to do in the first place. I’ve seen him working in our family, helping us teach our children who God is and what Jesus has done for them. I’ve seen them begin to respond to his love. I’ve seen my husband and I grow as parents, seeing a greater vision of God’s best for us with each passing year.

So I can happily stand and present this little girl to God, and promise to do with her what is most glorifying to the Lord. I can promise it because I love her, because I love him, and because I know that even when I am at the end of myself and my ability to accomplish anything of value, he’ll do it in me through a power I’ve only begun to understand and recognize.

What promises do you think God might be asking of you today?

Believe it or Not, Part 2

So I said I would tell my ghost stories in my next entry.

These would probably go over better if we were sitting around a bonfire on a crisp October night roasting marshmallows. But try to imagine the setting and listen to my tales…

I was around 8, and I had some friends over for a sleepover. It was the middle of the night and everyone else had fallen asleep in the back bedroom that I shared with my sister Jenny. Our house was the parsonage of the church next door of which my dad was the pastor. It was an old house, having been a coal miner’s house before it became a parsonage, but it wasn’t scary. I don’t remember ever being bothered by anything upstairs. The old decrepit basement was another story, at least until we had it finished to provide another bedroom. Any time we wanted a good scare we went down there.

But back to my story. It was quiet. I was laying in my sleeping bag staring up at the wall as I tried to fall asleep. My record player was next to me, playing the soundtrack from “Annie.” It was on the song called “We Got Annie.” Suddenly a face appeared in the orange folds of the curtain on the window. I can still recall his face, a man I’d never seen before, with spectacles and a mousy appearance. He wasn’t clear as a person would be, he was transparent, and I only saw his face. He appeared to be staring right at me, but he didn’t speak, and he faded away after a few seconds. I don’t remember feeling scared, just curious. Of course, no one else was awake to corroborate the story. I never saw him again. It is also interesting to note that one of the former pastors had died in the house.

Our old church in Oglesby, Illinois revives many many wonderful memories for me as I grew up. As long as it was filled with people, every room, every corridor and classroom was filled with life and hope. But enter that building by yourself, even during the day but especially after dark – and it was the creepiest place I have ever known.

It was a building from the 30’s, even though the church went back much further. The first building on the site had burned to the ground one night. An old lady named Cynthia who was my Sunday school teacher when I was little lived just a few houses down and recalled that dark night, when the entire neighborhood woke to the eerie sound of the bell from the steeple falling to the ground with a loud clang as the building became ashes.

The new building was a beautiful structure, with high ceilings and a balcony over the auditorium. I spent many an evening in that large room practicing piano – and trying to play loud enough that I wouldn’t hear all the noises around me in the empty hall. There were the explainable pops and gurgles of the old heater, but there were many other sounds as well. Many times I was sure that someone had opened the door and came in, only to find that I was still alone and the door was locked. There was also an old room up in the back of the building that we called “the Upper room.” Many times I was convinced that I heard someone coming down those stairs. No one ever did. I am now 31 years old and I have not lived in Oglesby for 14 years. All my creepiest dreams still take place in that upper room! (It is an interesting note that when the church build a new building in a different location recently, a single woman bought the church to turn it into a residence. I cannot imagine living in that building!)

I must provide a caveat to this story. My mom practiced the piano many nights after we went to bed. I can remember falling asleep to the sound of the piano wafting from the old building next door. She doesn’t remember anything strange ever happening. Nor does my dad who spent many hours in his office alone.

My next story didn’t take place until after I was married, when my husband and I and my sister Kathy and her husband Seth decided to take a trip up to Canada together. We stayed in Goderich, a wonderful little town near the shores of the lake. Our inn was an old house with a lot of character. The last night we stayed there the entertainment downstairs went on till pretty late into the night. Finally things got quiet and we were falling asleep, when suddenly the loud sounds of a dog in the hallway caught our attention. It sounded like a big dog, its claws clicking on the hardwood floor down the corridor to where our room was. It was strange because we hadn’t seen a dog the entire weekend, big or small. Kathy and Seth do not remember hearing the dog. I got down and peered through the crack under the door, and there was nothing there. Nothing. I can’t remember very well, but I believe my husband asked the owner the next morning if they had any dogs, and he said they didn’t.

At the same time, during our first year of marriage, I had some strange things happen in our home. It’s not exactly what you would expect of a haunted house – it is a mass produced Dominion house built in 1987, and it had only one previous owner, a couple that seemed nice enough. But there are two rooms in the house that greatly troubled me when I first moved in – the master bedroom and the bedroom at the end of the hallway, which by the way had a big hole in the door as if someone had kicked it open. One morning after my husband left for work before it was light outside, I woke to the feeling of something sliding across my side. It felt like a belt of some sort. When I sat up and looked, nothing was there. In that room we have had some very strange electrical occurrences as well. My husband is an electrical engineer and could not explain them. One time when his alarm was set to go off for work, and mine was not set at all, MY alarm went off instead and his did not. We have also had other things happen with those clocks, from the music coming on for no reason to having power without being plugged in.

One other thing happened in that house. One evening when Pete was working late I took our dog Ben for a walk. When I got back and was about to unlock and open the front door, I heard someone walking down the stairs. I knew my husband was not home yet, there were no lights on in the house. I was sure someone had broken in, and since I did not know the neighbors yet, I stayed outside for an hour before my husband came home. When he went inside and searched the entire house, he didn’t find a thing out of place, and there was no evidence that anyone had been there. It also bears mention that the light bulb in the light just above the stairs constantly burns out. We replace it extremely often.

Could all these things be my imagination? Of course. I have a vivid imagination and I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them were due to my nature. But I can only tell you what I saw, what I heard, what I experienced and leave it for you to decide. I don’t claim proof, only experiences that gave me an interest in the unexplained.

And that’s my story.

Believe it or not

I have a confession to make. I believe in ghosts.

And if we are all to be sincerely honest, there aren’t a lot of people who don’t. But I’m going to be brave and admit it.

This admission comes from the novel I have just begun to write. A ghost story. A ghost story with a message – that God is bigger than we can possibly wrap our minds around and to assume that all we see is all there is significantly sells Him short.

I’ve definitely discovered this truth as I’ve started to research this ethereal subject. The more stories and experiences and yes, even proof, I examine, the more questions I have. The more unsure I am of what I even really believe.

Before I began this project, I was already something of a ghostie. As I recently mentioned, my favorite show growing up was X-files. I like to think about things unexplained, about what everybody scoffs at. But I had my ghostly belief system firmly in place. Seeing an apparition was a time rift. (My sister has a more colorful name for it, ask her if you dare.) Seeing something that happened in another time and place. The theology for this? God is not bound by time. When God sees us, He sees everything that ever happened, everyone that ever lived, every moment of every day of all of existence - all on the same level.

We are so much less powerful, our sphere of reality can only exist inside the time and place He has assigned us. (At least for now!) But due to the imperfect nature of our world, even time can get messed up. So you know that ghost you saw when you were a kid and never told anyone about because you didn’t want to be labeled as crazy? Well, it may have been someone from another time unknowingly peeking in on the present time in the same location. There have also been many reports of the opposite – of people who unknowingly momentarily stepped back into time – becoming the ghost on unsuspecting citizens of the past.

Before the skeptics take aim at my sanity, think about all the proof there is of this phenomena. Pictures taken in old places with lots of history that unexplainably present you with something you can’t explain away – a shadow that shouldn’t be there, a mist that envelopes the smiling face of your loved one, a blurry face of someone you don’t recognize peeking over their shoulder. In the past we blamed this on film and exposure. Now with the rise of digital photography, there aren’t a lot of excuses left.

Next, how else do we explain the noises you blame on your imagination in the middle of the night? How else do we explain the sound of children laughing where there are none, the sound of crying or tapping or bumping of furniture, of footsteps falling heavy upon stairs that are vacant?

Now we move more into conjecture than fact. These things do happen. And I believe a time rift has been all but proven for a good number of these experiences. Why? What makes some events in history so memorable that they must replay over and over again with unrelenting energy? My theory (not just my own, but the one I subscribe to at this moment) is that unrestrained, intense emotional events, whether positive or negative, can leave a sort of imprint on time. Which is why so many ghost stories herald wailing women and murderous crimes and crying children or babies. Which is probably part of the reason why we fear them, even though common sense tells us they will not harm us. I also think that our own intense emotional times might open us up to these strangers who share our experiences. To see what we otherwise would not be able to see.

But since I began this journey into the world of the paranormal, I have let go some of my former assumptions. I used to think that any entity that interacted with us was demonic. And there is plenty of evidence of the dark side of the spirit world manifesting in this way. But if we haven’t been trying to conjure the dead or worship the devil or any sort of activity such as this, and there is an event where a ghostly voice is heard on a recorder answering questions or is seen moving objects or turning electrical devices on and off, what proof is there of evil?

This is where I’ll lose some people. And that’s okay. I’m writing this more to organize my thoughts than to convince the world of the other worlds that exist just out of our realm of vision. When you read my novel, then I’ll convince you. Right now I’m posing possibilities. And what if one of those possibilities is that the dead are able to communicate, once in awhile, with the living? What proof do we the living have of what death is like?

This is where your assumptions, traditions and accepted social ideas kick in. Even as a Christian, you’ve been taught certain passages of the Bible mean certain things. Even more, you’ve been taught to ignore the evidence in the Bible of the other two worlds that exist – of other times, and of the spirit world, both demonic, angelic and Sheol – the realm of the dead.

I first site the passage in I Samuel 28, where Saul asks a witch to conjure up Samuel so he can ask him what to do. Yes, God said not to conjure up the dead. He’s against it. For reasons we don’t need to contemplate, we need to trust Him, and probably have to do with our inability to discern between all the warring entities that are involved in the spirit world. But this passage proves that it CAN be done. Samuel floated up out of the dust and lectured Saul about bothering his rest.

The second story in the Bible to take a good hard look at is the Crucifixion and the Resurrection. Matthew remembers something very interesting about what happened the moment Jesus died. Something we gloss over or ignore. I’ve never heard a preacher mention it in any detail. It seems as Jesus gave up his spirit a whole lot of dead people got up and starting walking around, appearing to people. Was this different than the raising of Lazarus or Jairus’ daughter? I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But it says they “appeared,” it doesn’t say they stuck around long term.

The other is a definition of ghosts that comes to us from Jesus himself, as remembered by someone who reported it to Luke. “Look at my hands and my feet… Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see I have.”

So, Jesus seems to have believed that ghosts were real. In fact, so did all the Jewish people that grew up around the murky, haunted depths of the Sea of Galilee. It was said to be a portal to the world of the dead. Creepy.

My final piece of evidence comes from the exact same verse I’ve heard referenced my entire life to disprove that the dead can interact with the living. It finally hit me recently how illogical the leap really is. The verse is from 2 Corinthians “Absent from the body, present with the Lord.”

Okay, that’s a wonderful thought. And I am of course looking forward to that moment when I am finally with him. But why would this tell us that to die is to completely vacate? Isn’t the Lord here? And why do we have this vision of the afterlife being lightyears above our world? What verse claims that notion?

I do believe that those who are present with the Lord have better things to do with their time than play games with the living. But the sad fact is that not all the dead are with him. They are in holding pattern for a different fate. And they may have plenty of time on their hands, or even as the rich man begged Lazarus, want to warn the living of what is to come.

So that’s what I think so far. I’m not saying how I envision these things is how they are. I’m just saying.

Next time I’ll tell you my personal experiences that made me interested in these things in the first place.

One last thought to leave with you.... why do you think that you've never heard a ghost story featuring someone from the future? If time is imperfect, shouldn't we be seeing the folks with flying cars and vacations to Mars? Daniel and John did in the Bible. Why doesn't anyone anymore?

Think on that a few minutes and see what you come up with.

A Matter of Trust

My husband would be the first to tell you that I'm a know-it-all. I act like I have every answer to every question, and on plenty of occasions I have given him the impression that there isn't anything that plagues me on a regular basis.

I could say that I'm not a worrier, that I'm just so trusting of God I don't wrestle with anxiety. I could say it, but it would be a lie.

I'm not exempt from worry. I just don't worry about the same things my husband does. In fact, my worry is limited primarily to four people. Pete, Hannah, Noah and Talia.

It may be hormones, having given birth three times in the past five years, but I can make myself physically sick thinking about all the things that could go wrong in the lives of my family members. The last thing I do before I lay my head to the pillow is my nightly rounds, placing my hand on each of them and praying for their safety, health and their relationship with Christ, present and future. There have been times when a health concern in one of their lives tested my faith. There have been times when I've forgotten that God loves them more than I do.

What a welcome thought in a rushing torrent of emotion and fear! That the Lord of all holds each of my dear ones in the palms of His hand, tenderly guiding their steps and protecting their way. That His heart bleeds and pains so much more than even the desperate heart of a wife, a mother. That though He could never be surprised, He is affected by our hurts. He does seek to make our paths straight, and fulfill the desires He's placed so gently and lovingly into our very being.

Life would be a swirling, out of control hurricane of terror were it not for the love of God, shown so perfectly to us through His Son, hanging on a cross, rising from a grave. Life would be impossible if it were random, nonsensical, happenstance. Life is only worth living, worth persevering because of what Jesus did to secure the future.

It all comes to a matter of trust. Will I trust this God who has proven His love so clearly? Will I let Him lead, will I follow carefully the imprint of His feet left along the trail? Will I trust Him enough to keep going, to keep walking, to keep leading my children closer to Him every day we are given?

Can I trust the heart of this Savior, even in such a delicate position as the mother of little ones in a scary world?

I can. I have. I will. Because of who He is, and because of what He's done for me.

Trustworthy. That's what He is to me.

The Problem of Sin

It's not a popular idea. Never has the concept of sin been so unacceptable in a culture before this day. Never have people tried so relentlessly to claim perfection - to subscribe to the "mostly good" view of humanity.

The problem is that we all know, deep down, whether we admit it or not, that we are sinful. And what does it mean to be sinful? What is sin? Sin is when we miss the mark, when we come up short, when we are incapable of doing what is right 100 percent of the time. And who can claim that they are sinless by that definition? Even if our motive was to continue the rest of our days in perfection, no one would honestly attain to it. We would be quickly betrayed by our own nature. That is why we need police, government, teachers, parents. We need someone in charge, someone or some institution enforcing rules and protecting life. Because without that restraint, we would quickly destroy ourselves.

A good measure of the awareness of sin is to look at another's failure. When you are wronged personally by someone else, you see their sin. You feel the injustice. It is easy to ignore our own tenable character, to justify our intentions and validate our actions. But bear the brunt of someone else's neglect of goodness, and suddenly we are staring sin in the face.

So why do we fight so hard against what we really are? Why are we so determined to prove something a lie that we all know is truth? Is it because to yield to our own helpless state is to give up hope for a better world, a better life, a better outcome once we have completed our days on earth?

God knew that His creation, when given a choice between good and evil, would choose evil. He knew the price for that failure long before he ever set Adam's heart beating. He sent a perfect human form of himself to live among us, to show us what perfection is and what it can accomplish, and then he allowed his only perfect human son to die at the expense of all humanity. An untainted sacrifice was made. Holy life was exchanged as a price for sin, and as a result, the rest of humanity can walk free if they choose to do so.

And we certainly have always had a choice. God is not in the business of controlling our will. He will do what it takes to reach us. He will convince us of our need in the quiet moments of our ponderings. He will show us the answer who hung on the cross, then rose again in victory over death to show us that there is a way for a human being so affected by sin to become spotless, to walk free from our prison, to enjoy immortality and eternal happiness as his grateful offspring. But he won't make that decision for us. He wants us to throw off the burden of our own pride, run into his arms, and never look back at all the darkness we have left behind. He wants us simply to follow him. He will take whatever minute seed of faith that exists in our heart and make it grow - make it flourish into unbelievable beauty.

I have been reading lately in the book of Hosea. Hosea was a prophet who was instructed by God to marry a prostitute. Not only did he ask him to marry her, but to forgive her countless times when she fell back into her old ways. There is a picture I take away from Hosea, one of a righteous man standing in front of an auction block, where his unfaithful wife stands in chains because she has returned to her former ways, returned to the muck that her husband had pulled her out of in the first place. He steps forward. He pays the price for her. He takes her home and loves her, forgives her. Just like Jesus. I’m so glad he was willing to step forward and pay my price. I’m so grateful that I’ve given him my life. And he’s done so much more with it than I ever could have hoped to dream.

Let him do the same for you.

Man's ultimate problem is most definitely our sinful state. Man's ultimate solution is a Savior named Jesus, who loves to save and delights in cleansing a soul. Trust him today with your heavy load of sin. Burdens are lifted at the cross.

“Return… to the Lord your God. Your sins have been your downfall. Take words with you and return to the Lord. Say to him: Forgive all our sins… The ways of the Lord are right; the righteous walk in them, but the rebellious stumble in them.” – From Hosea 14