A Lifeguard's Perspective

I worked as a lifeguard and swim instructor all through high school and college, that’s how I paid my way.  I can tell you that when you need to save someone the safest and easiest way is from the side of the pool.  You have greater strength, a better perspective, and you are in control of the situation.  Once you get in the water you are fighting the elements, struggling for control over someone who is panicking, and you can’t see all that is happening from that point-of-view.  You see I have saved a few people from drowning.  I’ve been in the water fighting to secure them as the fought panic and struggled.  I was taught to grab onto anything that would get their attention and hold on for dear life until they realized they were being saved and they could relax.  I once had seven kids holding onto me as we bounced around the pool and accidentally found the slope to the deep end.  I can tell you when you are underwater and trying to hold all the kids above water you can’t tell which direction the shallow end is from the deep end and you have to trust someone else to help you.  My most successful and easiest saves where when I was on the deck and I could see someone struggling and reach out to them from the pool side or grab their inhaler and be at the side when the arrived ready to hand it to them.  You see perspective is everything. 

I’ve been listening to a variety of end of the year reviews and I’ve been struck by how 2016 has taken on a life of its own.  It’s been referred to like a person who has taken lives, started wars, broken up famous Hollywood couples, etc.  Let me tell you it is a moment in time.  We are responsible for our actions, our reactions, and our point-of-view.  To me it is a matter of where you stand.  You could be underwater, trying to figure out which way is up or down, and to safety or into deeper trouble.  Most people are bobbing in the water taking one wave at a time to the face.  There are a small few of us who are standing on the word and promises of God.  To the world this is often referred to as giving up my choices, but in reality it is the exact opposite.  God is all about free will.  Every choice I make determines where I choose to view my life from.  Let’s just say 2016 had a lot of ups and downs for my family.  Many worried that I would be in the water battling the waves.  That was clearly a choice, but I choose to be sitting on the pier dangling my feet in the water, understanding the reality of our situation.  I knew that God was standing beside me with a full view of the situation and trusting that he alone could change things around.  It was God that gave Jesus the power to calm the sea.  Jesus decided when to use that power.  I don’t know that we would have understood the power of the story if Jesus had immediately awoken and calmed the sea.  It is important to understand that Jesus was not mentally on the boat; his perspective was with the Father.  He wasn’t caught up in the panic of the moment, but calmly watching knowing the right time to come to the rescue so that the disciples would understand the important of your point-of-view and the power of our almighty God.

If your argument for not believing in God is that you want full credit for all your accomplishments, please know you have it.  But wouldn’t it be nice to sweeten the deal?  That’s what it means to follow Christ.  You still have the authority to make your own choices, but you don’t have to make them from the middle of a storm.  You could be sitting at a place of peace, surveying the situation and working out your alternatives with God the Father.  It doesn’t mean all your ugly circumstances will change; it just means you have a better view point, a stronger understanding of the situation and the ability to make wiser and often easier moves.  God is the sugar that makes the medicine go down, but the choice is always yours.

God Thirsts For Us

It is time to write again as God pours new meaning into old understandings.  Several years ago God called me to dance in the rain with the children of Red Lake, one of the first mass school shooting locations.  After over a month of His asking, I said yes.  What followed was an amazing time of fasting, prayer, healing, letting go, intense warfare, and final surrender to the one and only one who could bring me through many months of trail.  God worked through me and others to heal the land through forgiveness, and to save the souls of three lost children in only twenty minutes.  My worldly mind kept trying to balance the amount of prep time (trials) to the amount of healing.  By earthly standards I had expected more.  So one night during youth group God cleared the confusion.  While meditating on the prodigal son I asked God to show me what I needed to understand.  He had me open my eyes and look around at the 70 some kids that where hanging around on the floor; some of them were deep in prayer, but most of them where totally lost.  When I asked God what he wanted me to do his response was “love them like I do.”  Then for one brief moment I felt a love so strong my heart couldn’t stand it.  I gasped for air, unable to breath.  For just a second I felt how deeply God loves us.  It doesn’t even come close to comparing how we are able to love.  The next thing he said struck me to the core.  I heard “I would suffer an eternity for just one of them.”  That is how much God loves each and every one of us. It is a love so deep we can’t even comprehend it.

I have been reading the book Radical by David Platt lately.  He shares an interesting perspective about Jesus’ last request to God about not having to experience “the cup.”  He suggests “it is not a reference to the wooden cross but to divine judgment.  It is the cup of God’s wrath.”  It wasn’t the physical pain he was fearful of, it was the total rejection.  In that final sacrifice God cleansed himself of all disappointment and what was left was pure grace and love. The cup that Jesus took was not just the final sacrifice for our sins, but also he took on himself all of the disappointment God had felt.  What I felt in that moment was nothing but love.  Not an ounce of regret or disappointment.  What I experienced after that was an unexplainable love for everyone around me whether they hurt me, disappointed me or failed me.  I couldn’t help but feel anything but love.  In Lamentations God is very specific when it comes to sacrifices.  He understood the specific requirements that were needed to repair and cleanse the broken relationship between God and man.  He was the chemist perfecting the blood that was needed to foster a physical, emotional, and spiritual relationship with each and every one of us.  The living water inside of us purifies in a way nothing else can.  It is a constant source of hope, peace, joy, and love.  Jesus is the only way to that relationship.  Have you cried out today for the cure inside you?  It is your only hope.

Treading Water in Poison

It was the middle of winter when we headed out by bus for our weekend youth retreat.  We settled into our rooms, filled the shelf above the window with more sugar than a group of girls should have in a month, let alone two days.  We were introduced to Daren, an athlete, who told us about the women and children in Africa who walk miles everyday for polluted water to survive; then we started walking in their shoes.  Through the dark we walked back up the long snow and ice covered road to where we first pulled into the camp.  There we found water jugs, one for each of us.  We were to carry them back to the cabin and use that as our water throughout the weekend.  We brushed our teeth, washed our faces, and carried the water to the mess tent for all of our meals.  We learned more about the conditions in Africa and what people all over the United States were doing to raise funds for water filters and wells.  We prayed, we brainstormed, and we asked God to show us each our individual strengths and how we could use them to help this cause. 

I enjoy writing, several of the girls loved photography, and a couple knew how to start a blog, so that’s what we did.  I asked God for words to share and each post related to my faith walk and water.  By capturing my faith and struggles I hoped to encourage and share about God's love with the youth around me.  God blessed all of us that weekend and for several years through this blog by showing us how to serve others with the gifts he gave us.  At the end of the weekend, our jugs stored under our chairs, we worshiped and thanked God.  Then we were asked to pick up our jugs and look underneath them.  Almost every jug bared the name of a parasite commonly found in the polluted water.  We took turns raising our hands; discovering about each parasite and the damage that it caused, and in the end there were few survivors.

I wonder why women and children would work so hard to do something that is so detrimental to their health.  As I ponder it, I realized sometimes you just don’t have a choice.  Life can be a race, which is won only by participating and taking your chances.  We walk by faith that God is watching, listening, and hopefully clearing the path before us.  If you have read past blogs you know that I have overcome being crippled, a cancer threat, lost children, the death of numerous friends, and so many other challenges too numerous to list.  Each time God was lifting me up, walking beside me, clearing my path, and whispering hope into my ears.  Recently I have been traveling through a season where God was saying it’s time to step up your game.  Faith like a muscle requires constant exercise and pushing your limits; I was in a comfort zone of triumph and grace. For over a year now I’ve been trying to tread water in a cesspool of poison, because that’s what I needed to do to survive.  I’ve juggled issues with my ministry, my health, my family, my job, my finances, you name it life has been about as unstable as it could get in every area of my life. I’ve needed a life line, someone to walk along side me and pull me out.  (The theme music to Rocky comes to mind.)  God created us to give when we are overflowing and to receive when we are drained.  I am so thankful to the pastors, prayer warriors, and amazing youth around me that have poured into me sips of hope, truth, strength, wisdom, and love.

I am fortunate to be surrounded by so many who care for me, who have my back.  At this moment Daren, who shared so much with us about serving as we are called, is presently running across the United States again to raise funds to provide filters and wells for those living on polluted water.  Join me in praying for, donating, and spreading the word that we are all called to serve, however we can, from wherever we are, those who are in need.

http://www.rundarenrun.com

Worship by Living Water

When Jesus met with the lady at the well he offered her living water; endless water that refreshes and never leaves you thirsty.  It seems to me that if the bible is the living word, the bread of life, then worship is the wine, the blood of Christ, the awakening of the Holy Spirit that lives inside us when we accept Christ as our savior.  

I have been dwelling on the practice of worship and have achieved some clarity.  First, worship is between me and Jesus.  Worship needs to be authentic and sincere; in order to do that I need to block out all those around me and focus on Christ; expressing my love and appreciation for his gift of sacrifice that set me free.  

I often close my eyes and picture Jesus sitting under a tree in the garden.  I sing directly to him and no one else is around.  Each song speaks to my heart differently and I respond in kind.  Sometime I raise my hands because the song confirms in my heart that it is all about Jesus and I can’t help but acknowledge that it is not about me.  Songs with a strong beat tune into the beat of my heart and I can’t keep my hands still; the drummer in me creates a beat to match on the table, chair, or pew in front of me.  There are times when the day or week has been especially challenging and I find a wall and sit on the floor or a chair or couch and curl-up in the lap of Jesus like a child and just listen to the music and the words and I allow Jesus to soothe my soul.   There is one worship leader who plays a flute that opens up the Heavens.  I immediately picture myself as the branches of a weeping willow tree and I dance in the breeze created by Christ himself as the wind.  The freedom of this waltz pierces my heart and draws me into the arms of Christ.  There have also been times when I feel lost and the music acts like a rescue whistle and I listen intently trying to find my way back.  

Man does not live by bread alone.  May I encourage you to both read the word of God, the bread, but also to worship and take in the living water, the blood of Christ?  Accept the gift of salvation and rejoice and celebrate through worship.  Soak in the waters of his love, drink when you are weak and thirsty, cleanse yourself of the daily sins of life, and draw close to the only one who offers you living waters. 

The Well of Living Water

The well of living water exists in the empty places; I didn’t realize it till recently. For the past four years there has been a veil of doubt that covered my heart and I didn’t know. I witnessed God’s love for lost souls, but I didn’t realize the power of that love. I shared that I have cried over the soul of Jeffrey Weiss, but not all of you know his story. Jeffrey was a little boy when his father committed suicide. He was barely eleven when his mother was injured beyond healing in a car accident. He moved to an Indian reservation in Minnesota before he became a teenage; an orphan of sorts, full of pain. He was alienated, bullied, and alone. That pain turned inward and he became the bully. At sixteen he murdered his grandfather, his grandfather’s girlfriend, the school security guard, a teacher, and six students before he killed himself. I have cried for his soul in Hell because he was as much a victim of life as the lives he took. I have been angry with God for not saving his soul. I recently figured out I never asked. My faith was so blind to the power of God it never occurred to me he could be saved. While praying into this a little while ago I remembered that Jesus traveled into Hell once and I realized he could again. The scripture verse that says there is no place we can hide from God popped into my head. I asked God to save Jeffrey’s soul from Hell and I heard “done.” How often we are in the middle of a struggle and forget that the answer to our peace is just a few words away. The waters of life are endless, powerful, and always available for those who fully trust in God.

The Empty Places

I started a new study tonight, One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I’m on page two when I’m faced with the holes that tear at my heart, the death of a child. I realize I’m destined to deal with this pain that I keep trying to hide, to run from. I have witnessed the burial of way too many children, victims of accidents, and violence, but it is the one who took his own life that still brings me to tears. I hear his cries in my sleep from the depths of Hell and I know he is the one soul I couldn’t save. I was too late. I am reminded of Rachel and how she peacefully floated away. I was unaware of her fight because she so joyfully let go. She was filled to completeness, at peace with her short time of existence. But Jeffrey screams silently of his pain; a pain that will never have a chance to heal. I pray for his soul. I pray that peace finds him. I share his story and tears fill my eyes and I choke back the pain. He is lost, forever burning in sin and sorrow and there is nothing I can do, he is out of reach. A homeless man pry’s at the meaning behind the tears. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to face the facts. He backs away, sensing that it is too painful to put to words. I scramble for an answer that will appease. He represents too many children who are in pain, who straddle a line between good and evil, who are both victims and killers waiting to take aim. He gently brushes back my hair and wipes my eyes, but he knows I am lying, running from the truth. The truth hurts too much. There is a soul in Hell that I can’t reach. A child who should have been saved, but was lost and swallowed up by the pain. That one soul constantly fills me with doubt. It shields me from God’s grace and leaves me wanting more; more answers, more grace, more peace, more joy. Yet, I feel empty from the loss.

The Gift of Tears

I appreciate those ha-ha moments when something finally makes sense. Life is like a great big puzzle and we are living one piece at a time. Some pieces just seem to hang out there forever while we study our lives, trying to figure out where they belong in the story. Well this Christmas a key piece to my puzzle fell into place. I have wondered for years how pain and tears became such a major part or my story. There was a Christmas movie I watched when I was young that had such a massive affect on my life that I haven’t been able to watch it again until this year. I actually found it a couple years ago in reprint. It has been in the drawer with the plastic on every since. When I see it I immediately get this feeling of dread and anguish, but all I can remember is that it was a sad movie. Well, I finally watched it this year.

The name of the movie is “The Littlest Angel.” It stars Johnny Whitaker, Jody from the television show “Family Affair” and Fred Gwynne as guardian angel Patience, more commonly known as Herman Munster. Michael, the Littlest Angel, dies unexpectedly and is shown the joy of Heaven by Patience. What I remember from my childhood was that it was the first time I was introduced to a child dying and leaving his parents. It took years to digest what that would feel like. I guess I should mention that on the Gallop scale of strengths empathy is my number one. For years I worked through how the boy would feel to suddenly be all alone without his parents. Then I thought about how parents feel when they loose a child. If I remember right I was somewhere between 8 and 10 years old at the time.

The first time I heard God’s voice I was twelve. I had been experiencing a number of deaths among my friends and I was mad at God for taking them. I understood how their parents felt to loose their children and how scared my friends were to be dead. God spoke to me and told me that He wanted me to help my friends let go and come to Him. As I connected to my friends in prayer I felt them let go, and glide into the arms of our savior. You see during those years of exploring the emotions of death I discovered how much God loves us. You see He knew the plan. He knew how much it would hurt to watch His child suffer and be tortured, then die. He knew what Jesus would experience, yet He loves us so much that He set the plan in motion anyway. As we celebrate Christmas I am reminded that along with the gift of salvation we also received the gift of tears. God knows our pain because He choose to suffer for us. I know God’s tears because I have shed them, but I also know His love.

So, to all the parents whose children have left this earth too soon: Alisha, Amy, Jeff, Nina, and Rachel, the children of Red Lake, Columbine, and Newtown God knows your pain, you are not alone. God weeps with all the parents as He holds your children tightly in His arms.