The Wages of Sin Are: Empty Feeders

A few weeks ago, I mentioned the deer who came and raided my feeders.  I have not refilled them, for I was angry at the deer and didn't want to encourage them to forage at my feeders.  I didn't want the mama deer to teach their young ones bad habits.  The feeders are easy to get to and are probably far more temptingly tasty than that nasty late-winter grass. 

I have not refilled the feeders now for at least two weeks.  No more deer...'tis true.  But my daily round of bird visitors has ceased as well.  No more sparrows, finches and now only an occasional mourning dove shows up and takes shelter under the Russian olive tree. 

Usually, the smaller birds, as they are eating out of the feeders, spill quite a bit of seed on the ground and rocks beneath.  The smaller birds eat in the morning, and by the time the sun rises higher in the sky, the little birds depart.  I suspect that in the shadows, the wee birds feel safe; as soon as the sunlight illuminates the area, they are so much more vulnerable to the hawks who fly overhead, ready to swoop down.  The doves wait patiently, and in the afternoons, they nibble at all of the fallen seed and then roost quietly under the Russian olive tree.

It's a nice community:  a ready "table" spread before the birds and all benefit...except when the deer intrude.  Then, because it's detrimental to feed the deer, I haven't refilled the feeders and my community has ceased to be.  I miss my morning visitors and my late afternoon guests...all activity has stopped and now the feeders sway in the wind with an occasional visit from a miffed magpie, who is wondering where all the bounty went.

This wee drama has provided me a kind of meditation on sin.   I openly and freely fill up my feeders...I do not charge for a "lunch" and so my gift is truly free.  I actively and consistently fill them up and feel badly when they are empty and a little bird perches on the feeder to no avail.  I was angry at the deer, but now the emptiness around the feeders makes me long for all of that frantic activity with goldfinches, sparrows, juncos, finches and doves all enjoying the bounty.  Yes, the occasional hawk shows up, but the little birds seem to take a predator's presence all in stride.  It's just part of the scene.

So, this made me think of our heavenly Father.  He is angry at the deer of sin...they destroy His creation, and cause grief to all.  They knock His beautiful gifts about and when finished, leave without any remorse, on the hunt for new grazing.  God loves us too much to tolerate sin's presence, so He allows His heavy hand to fall on us--He sometimes leaves the feeders empty for awhile. 

But, I am sure that He misses the joyful sound that comes from when His children are laughing and enjoying the fellowship of His bounty, with Him and with each other.  So, the silence of sin leaves Him no choice:  His chastening hand is withdrawn and He refills our feeders:  "Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.  They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness" (Lam. 3:22-3).  He forgives us, for He "knows how we are formed, He remembers that we are dust" (Psalm 103:14).

He takes sin very seriously.  But:  "for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor"  (Isaiah 61:3).  God was comforting His people, for although they had sinned and were feeling results of His displeasure, the restoration was promised and granted.  The same holds true for us.

As Easter approaches, we can take into our hearts two great truths:  God is holy and cannot abide the presence of sin and He is also loving, and gave His own Son to pay for that sin...to restore us and to bring us back into His fellowship that sin had destroyed.  After we accept this free gift, He welcomes us back. 

Tomorrow morning:  the first thing I will do (actually the second thing, right after making a cup of tea) is to refill the feeders.  I look forward to the return of the wee birdies...Restoration is a beautiful thing.
 

    

Whose Footprints?

My bird feeders have been emptying much quicker these days--either the birds are very hungry (could be, it's still quite cold and windy in these mountains) or something else is afoot.  I have no way to tell...I fill the feeders, and a day or so later, I see a lot of seed on the ground and the feeders are near to empty.  

Then, some evidence appeared in an unlikely place...in freshly fallen snow.  Footprints.  And not wee birdie prints...but rather large, imposing prints.  Hmmm...who could be sneaking around, knocking the feeders about and emptying them all too quickly?  You guessed it.  I had no condemning evidence a while back, then ta-da!  deer footprints.  

So, what to do?  Well, in a wintry world of little forage and very cold evenings, I really can't blame the deer for wanting to muscle in on the feeders and grab some seed.  Yet, if the deer become too dependent on forage provided by us humans, they grow less inclined to forage in the wild and teach their young, thereby endangering their survival.  Do I keep refilling the feeders and thereby keep refilling the deers' stomachs?  Or do I allow the birds to pick up what is on the ground and let the feeders stay empty for awhile?

We live in a world where we see Satan at work.  We see his footprints in the snow, coming in and taking away what is not his:  our health, our loved ones, our peace of mind.  Sometimes the snow melts and although we can't see his footprints, he leaves condemning evidence of his work behind:  cold hearts made so by the deceitfulness of sin, anger and heartache, violence and loss.  We rail against his emptying of the feeders, yet sadly, because our world doesn't take Satan seriously, many people are shocked when terrible things happen.  We are saddened too, but not surprised.  Having tried to defy God, and losing his place in heaven, Satan works on His children, as a way to take revenge on God.  Most parents would rather have someone hurt them than their children, if evil people are willing to make such bargains.  If you hurt me, the pain is temporary; hurt my children and the pain will go on forever.

God chose to have His Son tortured by Satan's minions--He loves us that much.  Because Jesus is God in the flesh, God was, in effect, allowing Himself to be killed for sin rather than us.  God is the ultimate Parent, the One Who never leaves nor forsakes us, even if Satan is dishing out as much pain and suffering as he can muster.

Isn't it interesting that Jesus is the "Lion of Judah" (Revelation 5:5) and Satan is also compared to a lion: "Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8).  Sometimes we are so angered and devastated by Satan's work in the world, we lose sight of God's more powerful work in the world.  We see sin and destruction, but neglect to see how lovingly God is working on the hearts of people to draw them to Himself:  "But I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself." (John 12:32).  Notice where His love will draw us?  At His death on the cross.  That is the ultimate judgment against Satan:  death itself has been overwhelmed by the love of His Son.  So, how do we respond to what is going on in the world?  Look at this picture:

I see a lion's paw:  a powerful cloud, rolling across the mountains, with thunder, lightning and hail in its wake.  I can be afraid, and see this as evil afoot or I can see the Lion of Judah's paw, firmly over the earth, in majesty and power and still in control of His wayward planet.  Yes, evil is everywhere, and never would I ascribe the evil to God, but it's our point of view that needs adjusting every now and then.  

Remember this verse:  "You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them [those who deny Jesus and do evil], because the One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world." (1 John 4:3).  Even if you see Satan's footprints in the snow, look a little closer:  Jesus' footprints are right behind them.

Prayer:  Dearest Father:  Sometimes I am so overwhelmed by personal sadness or by what I see going on in the world, that I forget the majesty of Who You are.  Satan would love me to shrink You down to the size of my problem.  But please remind me of the greater horizons of Your Love and how, despite the evil that stalks the land, You are still mighty and You still reign.  In the Son Who made such love possible, amen.

Persistence Pays Off

This is one persistent junco.  My feeders were empty this morning, and here he was, waiting patiently, with a look (may I call it that?) of, "Hey!  The feeders are empty.  I'm waiting."  And wait he did.  I looked out my kitchen window several more times, and there he was.  Still waiting.  Still patient. But, not moving for love nor money.

He reminded me of that wonderful parable Jesus offers on persistence in prayer.  It's from Luke 18:1-8: 

"Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. ² He said: “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared what people thought. ³ And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’ ⁴ “For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care what people think, ⁵ yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually come and attack me!’” ⁶ And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. ⁷ And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? ⁸ I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”

Interesting, isn't it?  Jesus selected a just judge--you would expect the judge to do the right thing.  He's sworn to uphold the law and does so willingly.  But Jesus picks a judge who, while sworn to uphold the law, has a bad attitude.  He doesn't fear God and is unconcerned how people react to him.  He probably is not the most popular guy in town.  But he is the judge and this widow, who has been wronged, comes to him, seeking justice.  She persists because justice must be meted out to her adversary and she won't rest until that's done.  It's only fair:  if someone wrongs you, then that person needs to feel the heavy hand of the law and needs then to make amends.  We don't know what this "adversary" of hers did, but it was grievous enough to warrant her coming multiple times, seeking a hearing from the judge and demanding a ruling.

In fact, whatever this adversary did is so grievous that the judge worries that if he delays too much longer,  she will assault him--a sure sign of the desperation of this woman.  She's not just being difficult; she has been wounded by a wrong and in her pain, she may take it out on the judge.  He's not giving in because he wants her to have justice--he's giving in because she is desperate and unpredictable in her current state.  A just judge would take pity on her and try to right the wrong as quickly as he could; this unjust judge is seeking to save his skin.  So, he does the right thing for the wrong reason.  But he still acts, even if we scorn his rather selfish motive.

Contrast this judge to our Heavenly Judge:  He hears the cries of His chosen.  He hears our  pain, our wounded and wronged hearts, and seeks to mete out justice quickly and fairly.  Why?  Delaying justice empowers the sinner, who scoffs at the laws of God anyway, and without a quick resolution, the sinner may commit even more grievous sins.  As for the wronged, a strike upon our cheek is a blow to our Father's face, and He does not want us to suffer any more than we do.  

So, back to our wee junco.  A grievous act of neglect had been committed.  We are not at the heights of summer, where, if the feeders are empty, a bird can just flit off and nibble elsewhere.  We are in the depths of winter--the ground is covered in snow, the winds blow cold and hard and food is scarce.  The junco was not too dissimilar to the widow:  his plea was not at all unreasonable, as he faced the adversary called Winter.  He wanted a kind of "justice"--a full feeder to keep him warm in these harsh days.  His resolve to patiently and persistently wait made me, still in jammies, go out in the snow and grab the feeders to fill them. When I grabbed them, he didn't fly away.  He stayed in the tree until I returned with them filled.  Interestingly enough, the feeder was soon filled with finches, and our junco didn't dine alone.  

Then it struck me:  our Heavenly Father answers our pleas not only to show His utter kindness, but to show others He is faithful to those who call on His name.  Our persistence--showing our confidence in His mercy--leads to our answered prayers becoming full feeders of His grace in our lives.

God is in the Details

Jesus noticed the little things of life.  In Mark 12:41, He watched the crowd as they put their money into the temple treasury.  He saw the wealthy putting in large amounts.  He could have then just walked away--the money clinked as it hit the other coins and that would have been that.  But He tarried, and a poor widow made her way to the box.  He saw exactly what she put in:  "two very small copper coins."  Worth ever so little, but these wee coins caught the Savior's attention.  Why?  Why does He notices such little things?  Why does He comment on how not even a sparrow, which costs very little, will not fall to the ground without His Father's notice?  Why does He honor even a simple cup of cold water, given to a little one, and deems it worthy of a reward?

The little things are so easily overlooked.  Yet, they speak volumes of our Father's care.  These pictures are of snow forming into crystals.  Why?  As the water in the form of ice remains on the ground, it grabs water molecules from the air, and the small crystals start growing.  They grow so much, we can start to see their structure:  they look like branches of a pine tree.  Look at the edges and you can see the wee trees of ice.  Beautiful, delicate and easily overlooked.

The longer the ice crystals are exposed to the air, the larger they grow.  But they start small, almost imperceptible.  Our first hint of the beauty to come is how we see mini-rainbows in the snow--glinting in the sun, and looking like tiny diamonds scattered across the white raiment of winter.  But as time goes on, the crystals not only grow but reflect more and more light and dazzle us with their rainbow display.

God and His care is in the details all around us:  the smile of a baby, the diamonds in the snow and the whispers of love He sends to you and me.  The longer we are in His Presence, the more we grow, reflecting His light and making the winter snow a thing of beauty.  His work in us starts small, and may be almost imperceptible, but He is faithful: "For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus." (Phil. 1:6). 

His beauty is growing in us, as long as we stay in the light of His love.  Be patient.  Look at a sparrow, catch the beauty of the snow, and remember:  He is watching everything, down to the finest details:  "He who keeps you will not slumber."  (Psalm 121:3).  We are worth so much to Him. 

Prayer:  Father of Lights:  I don't always see the work You are doing in me, but beautiful things take time.  The longer I am in You, the more I will reflect You.  Help me to keep my eye on the little things and not forget that You see them too.  I may be small, but in You, I am mighty.  In Your Son's precious name, Amen.

Learning Satan's Tricks From a Hawk

"Resist the Devil, and he will flee from you." James 4:7

We are all familiar with that verse from the New Testament.  But I have gained a new insight from Satan's playbook by watching our Sharp-shinned hawk who loves to visit our bird feeder these days, looking for prey.  Here he is, atop the tree and the feeders are near the base of the tree.  Not so subtle, huh?  He is there and every bird knows it, so the birds have been staying away lately.

He sat rather motionless, but his presence is unmistakable.  Even though it was a dark day, and even if you have poor eyesight, his form does not, in any way, resemble a tree branch.  So, how is this like Satan?  He is always on the lookout for prey.  In the book of Job, when the Lord inquires of Satan where he has been, Satan replies, "From roaming through the earth and going back and forth in it." (Job 1: 7)  Sounds like our hawk:  it flies all over our area, keeping an eye out for prey...ever restless, ever on the hunt.

Sometimes it is obvious that evil is afoot--we say, "Oh, I can't do that" or "I will not go there."  We know that sin is present, and seeking to lure us in.  Satan's form doesn't blend into the landscape at all.  He as big as life and twice as ugly.  We know he's there, just waiting for us, and even though visiting the "feeder" is tempting, we resist, going elsewhere and leaving him well enough alone.

Now, our hawk decided to up the ante, and approach the tree in a more stealthy fashion.  I am assuming his meals staying away disturbed him.  A predator's gotta eat, right?  So, here he is a week later:

Now, this gets interesting.  He is in the tree--right smack dab in the middle of it.  Actually, if hawks could spit, he's spitting distance from the feeders.  He sat there for a long time, waiting and watching, hoping that the gnarled arms of the branches would obscure his form and leave him invisible.  

Hmmm...not too dissimilar from Satan's tactics.  If he can't get us at the obvious level of temptation, he "flutters" off--there is always another day.   

The birds returned once the hawk left, feeling it was safe to return.  So, he again shows up, more hidden, more blended in to the landscape.  We return, avoiding the obvious dangers and succumbing to the idea that if we can't see sin and its nasty form, it isn't there and we are safe.  No, not so.  Satan has just blended in a lot better, so we feel we are safe, and go back to our feeder (our daily lives) blissfully unaware he is there. 

Was Jesus tempted again by Satan, after His ordeal in the desert before He began His ministry?  Look what the Gospel of Luke says, "When the devil had finished all this tempting, he left Him until an opportune time."  (4:13)  So, once the hoopla was over, can't you just picture Satan "flying" away, landing on a distant tree branch, watching and waiting until a time when he can either subtly go after Jesus--in Peter's words as he tried to dissuade Jesus from going to Jerusalem to be crucified--or more overtly, as when the crowd was screaming at Pilate to crucify Him?  On the tree or in the tree, Satan never let up on Jesus.  

We are no different:  "All men will hate you because of Me, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved." (Matthew 10:22)  It's a simple truth:  Satan is always restless, always on the hunt.  But we can resist him.  Take a page out of Jesus' playbook:  use the Word and Satan will flee.  Truth is the greatest weapon against his wiles.

Prayer:  Precious Jesus:  I don't want to walk around always fearful of Satan--that is a kind of bondage that he loves.  But Your Word says that "perfect [mature] love drives out all fear."  My greatest weapon is growing in the knowledge of Your truth and being obedient to Your ways.  Thank you for walking with me!  In Your mighty Name. amen. 

Don't Stay Too Long in Your Hole

The winter is hard on everyone...whether it's the cold, dark days we awake to, or the cold, dark days in our spirits, winter is a challenge.  The little Oregon juncos have arrived at my feeder.  They look like wee executioners, with their little black hoods.  This little guy arrived and was eager to find some lunch. The feeders were empty (oh, the shame!) and all of the seed on the ground had been snatched up.  So, what was our wee bird's idea?  Keep digging until you find seed under the snow!

Yes, that's a solution, but the deeper he went, the less he could keep track of predators, such as our small hawk that loves to alight on the tree that holds the feeders.  This little guy was more interested in getting at the seed than being safe.  So, he kept going deeper...

And vanished.  I laughed because he normally would bob up and down, trying to simultaneously look for seed and the hawk.  But once he went too deep, he couldn't see.  

I thought, how so like our lives.  We look for those things that we need and also want, and keep getting deeper and deeper in, looking for more.  The original reason may be a good one, but the deeper in we get, the less we see of our bigger world and our vision is narrowed down to just our pursuits.  In Jesus' day, things weren't any different: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?  Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?  And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them." (Matthew 6:23-32)

If we keep pursuing the very things that our Father already knows we need, soon we are in so deep, we lose track of the larger horizon of His love.  And equally as sad, we lose sight of the dangers--how what was once a reasonable need turns into an obsession, stealing away our joy and marring our walk with Him.  We are also more vulnerable to attack--our inability to see the Lord's provision leads us to try to take even more control of our lives and do it ourselves.  The more we do ourselves, away from the Father's plan, the deeper in we go.  Instead of broad expansive joy, we see the walls of our hole, imprisoned and unhappy.  

Solution?  Jesus states it simply, as all profound things are:  "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well."  (Matthew 6:33).  Wow!  That doesn't sound like digging a hole, but building a relationship with the One Who loves us so.  That doesn't sound like looking down at our need, but looking up to His provision.  That doesn't sound like work, but sounds like a celebration--we are His children, and He knows what is best for us.  He knows where the seed is, where the hawk is, and knows that too long in a hole is a lonely, closed-in existence.  Look up.  He is waiting with open arms.

Prayer:  Father:  I am in a hole of my own digging.  I started out fine--I could see out beyond it, but now I am confined in it.  Please, be the lifter of my head and give me strength to fly out.  Your love never ceases to wait.  In Your Precious Son's Name, amen.

Be Ever Green

"Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength."  Nehemiah 8:10

The New Year has arrived with cold winds.  When the sun makes a rare appearance, the ice crystals glint like diamonds in the snow.  The land's harsh edges are softened.  The snow blows about like powdered sugar, with drifts forming and reforming as the winds change direction.  Amidst the cold, stand my three evergreens:  my blue spruce (small but mighty) and two Austrian pines.  Everything else is dead, or at least appears to be so.  The grasses are buried under the snow and the sunflowers are skeletal remains along our road.  If you didn't know better, you'd think we live in a wasteland.

It is desolate right now.  The landscape is barren and rather foreboding.  But my evergreens remind me of the beauty of the land to come in the spring.  The green will return.  The Lord has designed the planet to operate like clockwork, so I can trust the return of the spring. 

The landscape of the nation is rather desolate now.  It is winter in America.  The cold winds blow.  What is the Evergreen of our hope?  It is God.  Listen to the words of Habakkuk, who was told that punishment was coming to his beloved Judah:  

    
¹⁶ I heard and my heart pounded,
    my lips quivered at the sound;
decay crept into my bones,
    and my legs trembled.
Yet I will wait patiently for the day of calamity
    to come on the nation invading us.
¹⁷ Though the fig tree does not bud
    and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
    and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
    and no cattle in the stalls,
¹⁸ yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
    I will be joyful in God my Savior.
 ¹⁹ The Sovereign Lord is my strength;
    he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
    he enables me to tread on the heights.

The joy of the Lord is our strength, our evergreen tree of hope in the desolate winter landscape of these times.  He gives us strength so we can stand in the snow, green and hopeful because of His faithfulness.  We can remind each other of His presence, so we can "go on to the heights."  We don't ignore the landscape, but we can stand in it with confidence.  The days are hard, the days are dark, but we serve a mighty God!

One last thought:  under the snow, the seeds sleep.  The many bulbs that my son and I planted in the fall are still there, deeply buried in the frozen earth.  When we had a few days of a rather warm sun a few weeks ago, one little plant dared to poke up through the forbidding snow and seek the sun.   If we don't find ourselves as evergreens--yet--dare to lift up your head, look to His warmth, and seek the Son.  Your efforts, even if you take them to be small, will encourage others.  Whether tall or small, we are to live in this current landscape like we mean business--our Father's business.   

Prayer:  Lord, the days are dark, just like the depths of winter.  Help me to be ever green, resting in You and trusting You to sustain me, so I can be truly joyful.  Not with a joy born of ignorance, but a joy born of confidence in Who You are:  the One Who loves us.  In Your Son's most precious name, amen.

Fresh Falling Snow

“…wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.” 

Psalm 51:7

     Fresh snow--beautiful, soft, white--the earth pulls it up like a downy blanket under its chin.  It covers rocks, stones, jagged edges, imperfections in the landscape, and evens it out to where the terrain stretches out in a silken sweep, like the sleeve of a lovely dress.  It quiets the land.  As snow falls, all noise is enveloped, and for a moment, I marvel at the all-pervading sense of peace.  Somehow, in the midst of snowfall, it does seem that peace on earth and good will to men has fallen from the heavens as well.

     This is snow--at first.  Then, over time, it changes:  it becomes sharp, crusty, icy, not at all pleasant.  Mud and dirt discolor it, and leaves stick to it.  It holds on to the soil like a cat’s dirty paws, and loses all softness.  Rocks reappear out of it, and it hides in the cracks and crevices of the terrain, lingering in the shadows, and disappearing under a warming sun, so now the hillsides are a jumble of snow and soil, white and brown.

     What made the change from pristine white softness to dirty gray iciness?  Temperature:  pure and simple.  As the sun warms the snow, it melts, and yet the winter warmth doesn’t allow it to escape quickly into the atmosphere.  The temperature soon drops in the shortness of the day, and the melted snow turns to ice.  Now the surface, once powdery, is hard and uninviting to walk across.  It’s quite scary navigating across an icy driveway or walkway, without my feet sinking securely into the snow--the icy snow now will not yield, and although it still maintains a white gleam in the afternoon sun, it is not inviting to explore.

     How so like the Christian walk.  The first fallen snow of joy in the Lord, the saving touch of His hand, the repentant soul home at last:  all soft, white, and full of quiet promise.  The terrain of the past is gently and utterly covered:  no more can sinful stones and rocks be seen, and the outstretched sweep of forgiveness makes the land look young and even. 

     But, that changes over time:  the temperature of a fallen world with its warm sun that melts our resolve and slowly encrusts our hearts with an icy coat.  The mud and dirt of sin infiltrates the whiteness, and leaves sharp stones and particles of hurt and guilt on what was once white and pure in His sight.  What was once a pleasurable walk where our feet securely allowed us to walk in Him is now is treacherous, with us slipping and falling onto a hard unyielding surface of regret, hurting our hearts and shattering our hopes.

     What restores the loveliness of the hillsides?  What brings back the even softness, with the rocks and stones receding from view?  What covers the dirt again with beautiful white, and quiets again the land with peace?  Fresh snow! Fresh clean snow once again falling from Heaven.  The earth taints what is good--Heaven restores it.

     In my mountain home, there is never just one snowfall.  In my heavenly home--my heart--there is never just a one time forgiveness of sin.  David in his Psalm knew a cleansed soul has a special kind of purity--snow-like, freshly fallen from Heaven, knowing that the sun will come, but equally confident in what falls from His healing hand.

My life has felt Your cleansing touch--it has equally felt the dirt  of sin.  Help me, precious Lord, not to focus on the receding snow-- the melting and tainting of my spirit--but help me to ask again and again for fresh sweet snow, given from Heaven to a heart that sincerely desires it. Then may I wander over the terrain of Your will for my life, firm as I walk, confident as I hold the nail-scarred hand of my Savior.  In Your peace-bringing Name, amen.

A Mighty Wind

“The wind blows wherever it pleases. 

You hear its sound,
but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.  
So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."

 John 3:8

      The wind is mighty where I live.  My neighbor has a weather station attached to his roof and loves to monitor what goes on around here.  Quite a bit, apparently—the highest clocked winds thus far have been 57 miles per hour.  We have winds that roar up here—I thought how poetical to say “roar” until I lived up here and yes, they roar. 

     In the morning, it is quiet and yet I know what I heard the night before, in the darkness.  We have learned to situate our lawn chairs so they won’t blow away.  We have two cinder blocks sitting on our barbeque, and a “wall” of them around it, to prevent it from being thrown over—which it has happened many times.  The only thing that saved my neighbors from getting a "free" barbeque was the gas line that tethers it to the house.  I have tried to retrieve lawn chairs and rocking chairs in the middle of a windstorm, and I felt rather powerless against such a force.  The wind blows, pure and simple, and nothing will get in its way.

     The clouds in the mountains also demonstrate the mightiness of the winds in the upper atmosphere.  The clouds move very quickly up there and seem to writhe and twist like gigantic snakes in the sky as the winds move them.  Nothing in the sky is static—the winds change the form of the clouds, their location and their marching pace as the day progresses.  At night this demonstration is veiled, but I can hear the winds in their performance.

      It is no surprise that Jesus compares the Holy Spirit to wind.  Winds can be gentle breezes:  His quiet voice whispering to our hearts.  Or He can be a mighty rushing wind:  His conviction of sin calling to our hearts and His urgent call, inviting us to salvation. 

     The Spirit is mighty:  He moves hearts and reshapes them in the image of the Son.  He will not allow us to remain static.  He desires us to move across the sky of God’s kingdom and make a difference in our world. 

     Nothing will get in the Spirit’s way.  A person cannot stand down a hurricane, and the Spirit will not be quenched in the world, despite all the evil the world can muster. 

     Even when we cannot “see” the Spirit, we can still see evidence He is still active in the world.  Even if it’s not windy in the mountains, the clouds are proclaiming the wind up high—so too, is the work of the Spirit.  His presence means hope in the world—hope that lives can be changed, hearts can be healed, and that evil will be overcome.  Isaiah reminds us that God will “provide for those who grieve in Zion--to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of His splendor.” (61:13)

     Come, Holy Spirit…we need You more than ever.

Prayer

We pray for those who grieve.  We pray for those who suffer loss and mourn with those whose hearts are shattered.  Come, Spirit, whisper to our hearts in our despair and draw us to the One Who is Hope: Jesus Christ.  In the Name of the Father Who also lost a Son, amen.