Tag Archives: Jesus

Faith, Family, Jesus, Travel

Love and the Body and DPB House

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With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, it seems appropriate to talk about love, that oft-illusive thing we’re all after. I do not mean romantic love, but the enduring, self-sacrificial love that many of us have yet to encounter, even within the body of Christ. This post will not flush out all that love is or all the ways it is seen. It is meant rather to spotlight some I know who have done it well and to encourage the rest of us to learn from them.

For some time, I had been asking the Lord to teach me more about His love; and in His goodness, He prepared a way for me to learn by experience. Last June, the Lord took me across the ocean to a small group of people in an unassuming house in a little European country to surround me with His love. He surrounded me with His love by surrounding me with people who knew His love and had no greater desire than to show the love that had first been shown to them by Christ.

My two teens and I traveled to Croatia to work alongside long time friends and get a close-up view of their ministry at DPB House Training Center in Severin na Kupi, near the border with Slovenia. Drustvo Prijateja Biblije (DPB) House Training Center is a place dedicated to intentional Biblical discipleship, mentoring, ministry training and retreat. Included in the programming is Leadership Lab International — preparing and equipping young adults for cross-cultural ministry and church-planting, CREW discipleship through practical servant-hood by maintaining the facility and serving campers, and a variety of summer camps.

I was given the task of capturing the heart of the ministry on camera, an impossible task, I would soon discover. I didn’t get a photo of my teenage roommate asking me every night how my day had been as we tucked into our beds and turned off the lights. No one will ever see that she asked me to tell her about the friend I’d lost that day, or how she listened and laughed at my memories of a bold, opinionated  Italian woman who kept us all on our toes. I don’t have photos of the strong hugs and parting words, “If not before, then Heaven.” There is no evidence of an evening spent with friends on a mountaintop watching the sun sink and the fog roll in as we talked about the love of Christ and how impossible it is to meet Jesus and be unchanged. There are no photos of campfire prayers under stars in the darkness as students and campers alike poured out prayers for each other. I have nothing but my memory as evidence that someone stopped in their tracks on the way to the next scheduled event to pray for my injured husband back home. There were numerous times that impromptu prayers were offered on another’s behalf simply because a need was expressed, or even more simply because they were a brother or sister in Christ.

Teamwork, unity, kindness, service, laughter, joy, worship, fellowship, encouragement, admonishment, support, prayer, peace, hospitality, and more characterized my experience at DPB House. Truly love reigned over all because “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.” (1 Corinthians 13:4-6). Philippians 2, the challenge for believers in Jesus to follow His example of humility by looking to others’ interests and serving them, was not only taught but exemplified in the lives of students and leaders alike.

1 John 3 opens by telling us to SEE what kind of love (!!) the Father has given us. How does He give us His love?  He gives us His love by Christ’s death on the cross and His resurrection from the dead that makes us alive with Him when we believe in Jesus (Ephesians 2:4-9, Acts 16:31). Then He gives us His love through each other (1 John 4:7-11). It is the evidence that we know Him and abide in Him (1 John 3:23-24). Love, in a nutshell, is the giving of oneself for another. All our praiseworthy deeds are nothing without it (1 Corinthians 13:1-3).

I arrived at DPB House Training Center a bit battered in spirit. I left having been ministered to in wonderfully healing ways by the love of His people, His body. I believe this is one reason we are called Christ’s body. He is the spirit that drives the action, and we are the listening ears, the praying tongues, the voices of encouragement, the arms that hug and hold, the feet that go, the hands that serve.  It is my prayer for DPB House that this would be their constant and eternal testimony. It is my prayer for the wider body of Christ wherever we are found – that all who encounter us would experience Christ’s self-sacrificing love. To Him be all the praise and glory!

 

©Erika Rice 2019

 

Faith, Family, Jesus, Marriage, Women

Too Many Women

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I know too many women who have been abused. If it was only one, it would still be too many. Unfortunately, the number of women I have personally encountered is much higher. Some of those women have lost their grip on reality and their mental stability, things that are not very easily recovered.

I am speaking primarily of emotional abuse, meant to devalue, control, manipulate, and create fear. It is shaming and contemptuous. Women who try harder do not find themselves loved better in return. Their actions only lend power to the one who is hurting them.

None of these women, or their marriages, fit the stereotypical image of abusive relationships. They appeared healthy and happy, their husbands solid, Christian men, sometimes leaders in the church.  They didn’t seem mousy and bedraggled, the doormat one would expect to find.

Seldom were their cries for help listened to or believed. They came away with the understanding that their husbands were too like-able or their marriage to valuable, that we are each our own worst enemy and must fix ourselves first, that their children’s suffering would be far greater from divorce than abuse, or that they should suck it up because marriage is hard for everyone. If only they would die to self and submit to their husbands, things would be better. Those who removed themselves to safety were often told that the first order of business was to get them back in the house, because separation is a death sentence for marriage.

This post is not meant to dissect poor handling of abuse cases. I do, however, want to promote a Godly, Biblical initial response. Please say very little to begin with when a woman talks of hardship in her marriage. Listen closely, speak little, and when you do, ask questions that will shed more light on the situation (James 1:19). Do not try to connect her stories to stories of your own. Continue to listen, for as long as it takes, not only to get a better picture but to show honor and care for a hurting individual. She may not even use the word abuse, it will feel too extreme to her, her love for her husband too great to want to hurt his reputation. But she can’t afford to be ignored.

We, as Jesus body, His hands and feet, His eyes and ears, cannot afford to ignore the hurting, destitute, devalued, and vulnerable (1 John 3:16-18). By the time a woman is crying for help, sometimes barely whispering for it, she may be at the end of her rope. You may be surprised by who it is asking for help, her countenance has never given you any hint. She may seem like a very strong woman, who knows her own mind. She may be a woman who shows no fear and never seems to worry.

But please, please listen. Pray for wisdom and discernment. Seek out both sides if safe to do so. Pray with the woman, weep with her (Romans 12:15), check in frequently, seek out reputable god-centered counselors for her, hug her, offer her a safe zone should she need an escape, and support in any way you can. Be a lifeline for a drowning person.

Please do not simply tell her to trust Jesus, to find her strength in the Lord, to wait for His deliverance, if you do not plan to assist in that deliverance (Proverbs 14:31; 24:11; Isaiah 1:17). I am not suggesting running mindlessly into the fray with no wisdom or expertise to guide. I am imploring a James 2:15-17 mindset. Prayerfully consider how you can help. Ask experts how you can help. Ask the woman how you can help.

The abused woman will need all those Bible promises, but chances are she is well aware of them and has been clinging to them for quite some time. Any strength you see is the strength she derives from the Lord Himself, her strong tower (Proverbs 18:10).  She has probably learned deep trust in Jesus already by casting all her cares on Him, over and over again (1 Peter 5:7). And her plight might seem unbelievable because she has been looking to Him all along, making her face radiant (Psalm 34:4-5).

I have been surprised by the women who have asked me for help. I wouldn’t have expected it from them or their husbands. The women are some of the most beautiful and gentle women I know, fully trusting in Jesus and ministering to everyone around them. They lend credence to Psalm 34:5, that those who look to Him are radiant. It isn’t an empty promise. But neither is the promise that when the righteous cry, the LORD hears and saves him from his troubles (Psalm 34:6-7; 17). If you learn of abuse, He has called you to be part of that deliverance, in some form. Please do not turn a deaf ear. I have yet to meet a woman in the church, claiming abuse, for whom it has not been proven true. They need love, encouragement, and support.

Too many women are suffering alone.

 

©️Erika Rice 2018

 

Daily Living, Faith, Family, Jesus, Lessons, Productivity, Pure Country

It Could Happen To Anyone

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It could happen to anyone. At least that’s what I tell myself sometimes when things unravel. I think it might be true, even if the circumstances differ.

Monday morning, I knocked a jar of banana peppers off an eye-level shelf in my basement. It landed just left of my foot, peppers in a neat little pile, vinegar splashed across the floor,  glass exploded into smithereens that embedded in my foot and flip-flops. It was not how I wanted to start my morning. I hadn’t yet made coffee or eaten breakfast. I was trying to get a jump on the day and create some order that would help me get ahead (who am I kidding? I’m so far behind, I’m just trying to catch up with the tailgate!). This little incident was not helping matters.

Tuesday morning, I discovered a package of meat between two freezers in my basement. I can’t tell you how long it had been there, but it was smelly and crawling. It was not how I wanted to start my morning. I hadn’t yet had coffee or eaten breakfast. I was all about efficiency when I set foot in the basement – in and out. This big incident was not helping matters.

I had left the safe space of my bedroom feeling pretty optimistic about the day ahead. I’d had sweet fellowship with the Lord, had a mental list going and few obstacles in the way of accomplishing that list. Monday morning left me thinking that making coffee would be a great way to start Tuesday morning; but when I noticed the empty dishwasher, I decided to put a hold on coffee until I got my canning jars loaded in to sterilize while the coffee brewed and I ate my breakfast. It seemed both smart and efficient.

Taped to the basement door was the reminder of broken glass and the need for shoes. So I stopped to get the vacuum. At this point, the vinegar would be all dry and any last glass dust easy to vacuum up. It was, but the basement was so dimly lit that even the extra lantern I’d brought to illuminate my canned goods closet was insufficient. I felt the need to explore the cause. A light bulb had been loosened in its socket, so I tightened it up, and suddenly all was exposed. The spider webs in the corners and crevices, the rotting meat between the freezers…

Let me tell you something about my basement. It isn’t really a basement. It’s more like a cellar, built out of large field rock, over 100 years ago. The rain and snow-melt run through the cracks and would fill it up if not for the sump-pump built into the low spot. The essentials are housed on concrete platforms — freezer, furnace, hot water heater, well tank. We run a dehumidifier all summer to keep the humidity down. Still, all that wet earth in the corners every time it rains can make it a little smelly at times.

This summer was hot and humid. The basement odors were unpleasant. My husband noticed, checked the dehumidifier, looked around, but couldn’t find any explanation for the scent other than wet, earthy basement. When I came home from weeks of summer travel, I found the smell offensive and did my own search, knowing that if the source didn’t easily reveal itself, I would need to find time for a thorough cleaning of the cellar. Until Tuesday morning, I had been unable to find the source of that awful smell that I’d been trying to keep hidden by a closed basement door.

I donned rubber gloves. I found heavy duty plastic sacks to scoop the mess into. I armed myself with a large putty knife.  I….was unprepared for what lurked beneath the package. I will leave that image up to your imagination. I want you to keep reading. You will undoubtedly be done if I paint that picture for you.

I scrambled for the Lysol. Bleach was out of the question because we’d used the last drop two days ago. Lysol was ineffective. I ran through the rain to the barn to find any kind of bug killers my husband had stashed there. They, too, were ineffective against the moving mass on the floor. I needed to scoop it all up, but couldn’t get the right angle with the second freezer in the way. I needed help. Kids to the rescue. Thankfully, my kids are all big now and the three still at home are used to coming to my rescue when big stuff goes down.

When the oldest came on the scene, we decided that bleach would definitely be necessary at some point. But first, we needed to shove that freezer out of the way. We two puny ladies couldn’t make it go. She woke her brother and told him to bring his muscles. I said I would pick up bleach while we waited for the muscles to fully wake, but under no circumstances should she try to clean up that mess. No way was I taking the easy job of running an errand and making someone else clean up the nasty. I said it again on my way out the door, “Do NOT try to clean that up! I’m not making anyone touch that. I’ll do it when I get back. Just spray it with more bug killer occasionally if you do anything.”

I grabbed a hat and keys and off I went. The fact that I had tackled this without ever getting to the coffee hit me as I got behind the wheel, and my neighborhood, drive-thru coffee shop jumped to mind. I was going to buy us each a specialty drink because there had to be some reward for doing a job like this one. I was off without getting properly dressed, washing my face or brushing my teeth. But I was only headed to Dollar General for one thing and would keep my head down. I figured the drive thru didn’t pose a threat, either, windows between us for the short bit of contact that would be had. I pulled in just after another car, stopped a good distance back and put my car in park.

I looked up just as the car in front of me went into reverse and started backing towards me. I tried to get mine in reverse and move, but was too slow so I just yelled “NO!” at the top of my lungs. That didn’t help. The thought of honking came after the fact. By God’s grace, there was no damage done worth caring about. But when all was said and done, I ended up inside that coffee shop in my unwashed state with 4 other ladies, wishing I could crawl under the freezer in my basement. I probably smelled bad enough to belong there.

Here is where the story takes a turn and really gets good. So don’t stop reading yet.

When I arrived home with bleach and coffees, I was greeted by 3 cheerful young adults with gloved hands who had moved that freezer, cleaned up every last bit of nastiness, and the young man with the muscles was burning the remnants. He had proved unnecessary in moving the freezer because the one puny lady did better than we two. All that was left for me was the bleaching and rinsing. Bleach and rinse I did, with a hose that sprung a leak and rinsed the upstairs as I rinsed below, completely unawares. The youngest prevented disaster and left me none the wiser till I finished.

When it was all put back together (which turned out to be no small feat, requiring four of us and a good bit of leveling), and the basement light turned off, the three laughing young adults, my children, who were gathered around my kitchen island asked if we could pray together before we moved on. As we reached for each others’ hands, one remembered a song they used to sing every morning at a camp they’d attended. So we stood in a circle and they taught me a fun version of “Bind Us Together, Lord,” complete with clapping and hugs. And then…we prayed.

All before we’d even finished our morning coffee.

Tuesday morning did not go according to plan. I thought by noon I’d be well into making pickles, if not close to done. I’d have eaten breakfast and finished my coffee and had my day in hand. But it was never my day to begin with, and the Lord had something to show me. In my quiet time during the early hours, I had been reading the opening pages of a book by Jen Wilkin where she makes the case that for the believer who wants to know God’s will for their life, instead of asking “What should I do?” we should first ask, “Who should I be?”

My prayer for my children has long been, and especially this last year, that they would be filled with the Holy Spirit, exhibit His fruit and display the character of Christ. Tuesday morning, I saw it on full display, within their home, where it is often the hardest to do, and under unpleasant circumstances. I don’t know how to answer all their questions about what they should do at any given moment, but I know who they should be, and by God’s grace they are (Romans 12:2). They are not merely rule followers who are well-behaved lovers of self, but followers of Jesus whose love has filled them to overflowing, transformed by the Holy Spirit to show the character of the God who made and loves them (1 Peter 1:14-16).

It could happen to anyone – a morning like mine. Thankfully, it doesn’t happen that way every day. But the unplanned, unexpected, and ugly sometimes pile on. As to the rest of it? The joy, the self-sacrifice, the love, and unity – those can happen to anyone, too.

They can happen to anyone, or rather within the heart of anyone, who truly knows Jesus.

 

©Erika Rice 2018

Christmas, Faith, Lessons, Productivity, Worship

Here I Sit

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Here I sit, with none but the lights of the Christmas tree. I’ve just come in from a silent night, where the Christmas lights illumine the snow falling like the finest fairy dust. My table hasn’t been cleared in days, littered with ornament packaging, cast-off strings of lights and an assortment of odds and ends. The green and red storage bins covered in a year’s worth of barn dust are stacked in various degrees of emptiness around the room. My winter village is still on stand-by, waiting to be pulled out of boxes and lit to bring good cheer.

I’m not sure it’s ever taken me this many days to fully decorate for Christmas. But right now, I don’t even care. It didn’t matter to me last night or the night before that. Because there’s living to do in the midst of it all. A very real life that has nothing to do with lights, ornaments, garland and tiny villages, but everything to do with people, problems, schedules, growing and giftedness. And I’m okay with that. I love Christmas. I love the lights, the smell of pine, the spiced apple cider, and baking. But I love it even more when I stop to take it all in, whatever all happens to be this year.

My dad used to tell me to always keep it simple. The more we make of the excess, the more likely we are to miss the point. God made Himself man and dwelt among us; and we beheld His glory (John 1:14). That’s it. That’s the point. Without that, we’ve got nothing. GOD MADE HIMSELF MAN AND DWELT AMONG US! This is IT!! The great mystery, the great news, the great fulfillment of prophecy, the heavenly host’s praise. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” Luke 2:15. Peace. Peace on earth.

What did God do on a chaotic night in Bethlehem? He did the inconceivable and became a man. Fully God and fully man. How can that even be? And do we stop to marvel? Not often enough. Instead we make December crazy, and all too often celebrations become stressful. All the parties, plans, and expectations sometimes threaten to undo us, but the only undoing I want is the undoing of my heart before a holy, marvelous God.

So here I sit. Just a fir tree full of lights and me. I’m savoring the silence. Enjoying the peace. Keeping this Christmas simple. The village will be lit by tomorrow night. I’m almost sure. The buckets will go back to the barn to collect more dust. The kitchen will smell of baked goods soon enough. But nowhere in all of that do I want it to be anything other than simple. God became man and dwelt among us. Could the news be any better? Yes, actually! When God became man, in the baby Jesus, He gave the right to become children of God to all who believe in His name, and from His fulness we receive grace upon grace.  So this is how I spend my December nights – overcome by God’s goodness every time I look at those little lights shining in the darkness. Jesus is the light of the world, shining in the darkness, and the darkness can’t overcome it. (John 1).

Peace.

 

©Erika Rice

Daily Living, Faith, Lessons, Worship

I Cannot Live Without Jesus

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I’m not very good at sleeping. I’d say I’ve never been very good at sleeping, but I remember hearing my mom tell people that my older brother was an early riser, go-getter type (still is) while I was a blob she could barely get to move. By high school I was listing sleep as a hobby on job applications because at that point in life I thought of hobbies as things that one really wanted to do, but for which they had no time. There might be a reason all my jobs came from people who knew me rather than people who read my applications.

Then children came on the scene and I discovered I was a very light sleeper, waking at every sound. But when the opportunity to sleep came around, I slept and slept hard. Still, I looked forward to the day when I wouldn’t be wakened by cries in the night and could get several hours solid sleep. No more living like a zombie. That, however, was not the reality in store for me.

When my fifth and final child was still quite young but finally upstairs out of light-sleeper’s earshot, and sleep should have been mine for the taking, insomnia set in. This was a hard pill to swallow, and an exhausting one! I had five young children, a million things to do, the need for wisdom and clarity, not to mention self-control; but instead of sleeping I spent hours staring at the ceiling. With the insomnia, came an anxious spirit.

I tried to control the situation, create the perfect environment, and make sleep happen. In the process, I shamed anyone who interrupted the process, whose attempts to aid my sleep failed, and I put my poor family through the wringer. I became desperate for sleep and let the desire for it take control. Every chance for sleep was also a time of fear that I might not. Don’t get me wrong, I prayed…a lot. I thought if I prayed my anxious mind would be calmed. I thought if I prayed, at least I wouldn’t be wasting my time. I thought if I prayed instead of worrying, I would be holier. Worry is sin, after all, and prayer a commendable thing. But it isn’t a magic potion to be used to my advantage, and my heart was not content with the wakeful nights. The prayers did not accomplish what I desired. I do not mean that my prayers were ineffectual. But my motivation for praying was not what it should be. God, however, is faithful and did not allow me to be tempted beyond what He also provided a way to endure (1 Corinthians 10:13).

He was working in me a better understanding of my lack of control and His overall control. He was teaching me to rest in whatever He sent my way. My days were less ruled by lists and the need to accomplish, and more relaxed in the joy that whatever came my way was for my best. I began to realize that if I said I believed in a sovereign God then I needed to be content in every circumstance. The unexpected was to be embraced with joy and gladness rather than railed against as an interruption or undoing of my plans. Over time, I found peace in midnight wakefulness. I had no better times of sweet communion with the Heavenly Father than in those dark and quiet hours.

I had made friends with insomnia. I ran tired, but I knew God’s sustaining grace and strength when I was weak. I trusted the wakeful hours were meant, even, to sustain me in a way that sleep could not.

But this summer, a whole new level of sleep deprivation kicked in. There were strings of whole nights lost and daytime sleep was impossible. Still, life moved on, and responsibilities called. There were days I didn’t know how I would continue, or how I would meet that day’s demands.  I was profoundly tired. Profoundly. I don’t know how else to describe it. Still, I could not physically rest.

This, however, is where the promises of God are proved. In our weakness and utter reliance on Him, He shows Himself to be true.
In Philippians 4:19, Paul says, “And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” He supplies every need. 2 Corinthians 12:9 contains a promise I have long been learning to rely on. “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” “My grace is sufficient for you…” What a truth to cling to! Do I need sleep? No, I need GRACE, and grace is sufficient.

I found myself running late far more often than I would have liked during those weeks. Not because I didn’t plan and prepare, but because preparation was suddenly so different from what it had been. I had no legs to carry me, no stalwart emotions to trust, no strength on which to rely, no alert and ready mind to move me to action. I spent many mornings laid out on the floor, Bible open, in God’s Word and prayer, meditating on all He is and has done. Praying for the sufficiency of His grace in all things. Praying for His legs on which to stand and move forward, His fortitude to stabilize my emotions, His strength to enable in every way, His clarity of mind. The length of time it took me to get off the floor and moving varied, but God never failed to carry me.

Isaiah 40:30-31 says, “Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” I have loved this verse since childhood and often pondered just what it means to wait on the Lord. I’ve sometimes thought I had an inkling, but now I understand more fully.

Exhaustion makes us crave rest, but true rest is found only in Jesus. Weakness and pain make us crave strength; but it’s only in seeking His strength that we find ourselves soaring, which really is just knowing that He is accomplishing in and for us all that He wills. He will move us though we can’t move ourselves.

I’ve been to a doctor who discovered an underlying issue. Some solid nights of sleep and more typical, occasional insomnia are returning. Now that my body is learning to rest, I have hope for the day I lose the fatigue. But there’s one thing I don’t want to lose. If I keep just one thing, I’d like it to be the utter reliance on God for every moment. I want to start every day laid out before Him, seeking His everything to work in my nothing. His promises are real, His strength immeasurable, His grace sufficient for my every need. By His grace, I can live with pain, I can live with weakness, I can live without sleep. But I cannot live without Jesus.

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©Erika Rice

Christmas, Faith, Worship

How Do You Say “Merry Christmas!”?

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I’ve had a few questions loitering in my mind this Christmas week. How do you say “Merry Christmas!” when your friend lies suffering, her body destroyed by cancer? How do you say, “Merry Christmas!” when a child loses her mother or a mother her child just as they should be unwrapping presents together? How do you say, “Merry Christmas!” to the married couple who is barely civil to each other these days or the one who spends their first Christmas alone? The pain cuts deep and there is little merry about any of it. Really, each is the same question asked a different way–how do we say “Merry Christmas!” in the midst of misery? It seems so flippant and insufficient.

The answer is found when I open my Bible. But first, there are more questions. Why did Mary’s spirit rejoice in God her Savior at the angel’s news that she would give birth to the Son of the Most High (Luke 1:32, 47)? When the angels came to the shepherds and proclaimed the Messiah’s birth, why did the shepherds proceed with such haste to see him and leave glorifying God (Luke 2:8-20)? Why did the wise men travel so far seeking the king whose star they had seen (Matthew 2:1-2)? Why did Simeon, righteous and devout, wait so expectantly to see the Lord’s Christ (Luke 2:26)?

The indication is that they all knew what God had said about his salvation. The prophets had foretold of a king who would come humbly, setting free the prisoners of hope, reigning from sea to sea, and speaking peace to the nations (Zech. 9:9-12, Micah 5:2-5). The condition of people and their world was just like it is today. They longed for freedom from bondage, relief from heavy labor, healing from sickness, the end of war, and gladness instead of mourning.

There is no faithfulness or steadfast love,
and no knowledge of God in the land;
there is swearing, lying, murder, stealing, and committing adultery;
they break all bounds, and bloodshed follows bloodshed.
Therefore the land mourns,
and all who dwell in it languish, (Hosea 4:1b-3a).

They had spent their lives hearing of and waiting in eager anticipation for One who would come and bring them salvation. They had heard the words of Isaiah promising the birth of a child who would end oppression and injustice.

“The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light; […]

they rejoice before you
as with joy at the harvest,
as they are glad when they divide the spoil.
For the yoke of his burden,
and the staff for his shoulder,
the rod of his oppressor,
you have broken […]

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given; […]

and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace
there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time forth and forevermore.” Isaiah 9:2-7

And then the sky lit up, the angels sang, the baby had been born, the promised One had come! How could they help but rejoice? No longer would they languish, but their eyes would see salvation! The birth of this baby, called Jesus (Yahweh is salvation) and Immanuel (God with us), brought new hope, restoration, peace and reconciliation with God. It was the fulfillment of God’s promise going all the way back to sin’s entry on the scene. When Adam and Eve chose to ignore God, wanting instead to BE God, they brought the curse of death upon all mankind. But even then, God promised to send from a woman one who would bruise Satan’s head (Gen. 3:15). And now God’s salvation had arrived!

Isaiah had prophesied God’s hope to the people. A hope that kept their weary eyes lifted and looking for its fulfillment. They were ready to see and believe God’s salvation. They went with haste, they kneeled before him, they sang songs of worship, and glorified God, testifying that God was with them. Immanuel, God with us.

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor;
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and the opening of the prison to those who are bound;
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor,
and the day of vengeance of our God;
to comfort all who mourn;
to grant to those who mourn in Zion—
to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;
that they may be called oaks of righteousness,
the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified. Isaiah 61:1-3

And Jesus said, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” (Luke 4:21) He is the one proclaiming good news, setting captives free and opening blind eyes. There will be an end to fear, tears, pain and death, wiped away forever in His presence (Rev. 21:3-5).

That’s our expectant hope, and why we say “Merry Christmas!” It’s how we can say “Merry Christmas!” when we feel like crumbling. We know that Christ has come, conquered through his death and resurrection, and will return again for a final reckoning. We know that he has already brought salvation. There’s an end to our pain and sadness! So no matter our circumstances, we REJOICE in celebration at the thought of Christmas. Jesus birth brought God to us!

Perhaps an even more meaningful exclamation would be, “Immanuel! God is with us!” (Matthew 1:23). There will never be anything flippant or insufficient about that.

                 Come, Lord Jesus                                                                                            Come, Lord Jesus, to this sadness,                                                                         To our pain and to this madness.                                                                                Lift our weary eyes to see You                                                                          Humbly born but King of all.

Sent to reconcile us to You,
God with man on earth to dwell.
Bearing God’s full wrath in anguish,
Perfectly you took our fall.

Satan’s power has been banished,
Crushed, and conquered soon to vanish,
He no power has to shake us!
Blood-bought children You remake us.

Cause your Spirit to possess us
That we triumphantly might dwell.
Fill us with your might and power,
With hope, joy, peace our fears to quell.

Come, Lord Jesus, bring your gladness,
Ease this pain and end our sadness.
Lift our weary eyes to see You
Humbly born but King of all.

 

©Erika Rice

 

Christmas, Faith, Pure Country, Winter, Worship

A Covering

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I need a covering. After a string of dismal, rainy days in December, very unusual for my part of the world, the view is depressing. The sky hangs dark and gray. My yard is strewn with the debris of three dogs, two of them still puppies. Deer hides and bones dragged in from the fields after hunting season, leftover corncobs from harvest, and bits of plastic and tin cans salvaged from my recycling bins litter the backyard’s open spaces. The holes the dogs dug have become mud pots for rolling in before wanting in the house.

This bitter, ugly landscape mortifies me every time I look out my windows. The scene carries reminders of the past, embarrassment over the current state of things, and shame at my inability to bring lasting improvement to the situation. Oh, how I long for it all to disappear.

I need a covering. A good blanket of pure, white snow would do the trick. It would wipe the ugly from view and make it a distant memory.  The forgiving layers of clean ice crystals would wipe away the stark evidence of the past and dying season.

It’s not just my view of the backyard that needs help, though. It’s my view of my heart. I am constantly mortified by what I see if I dare to look closely. Too often, I barely give it a cursory glance, like the way I avoid looking out the window this week because I know what I’ll find. I’m much less likely to see the extent of my need.

I need a covering, a covering for my sin. One that blots out its memory and offers forgiving relief from the painful reminders and evidences of the destruction I leave in my wake. One that hides the raw and bitter ugliness that makes itself visible too often. I need a covering that remains until newness of life springs eternal.

God has given just that–a covering for my sin. In the birth of his son as a little baby He offered forgiveness and healing. His son, Jesus, would ultimately take my punishment, give me His life, and cover me in the pure white of His perfection. I fail, too often, to remember that I am already purified. “Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD; though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow…” (Isaiah 1:18). This covering is not whimsical like weather. It remains and brings the relief I long for.

I have a covering! My heart is clothed in Jesus’ righteousness and my yard is blanketed in pure white, for the snow has begun to fall.

 

“In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation [atoning sacrifice, covering] for our sins.” 1 John 4:9-10

“He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.” 1 John 2:2

“Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.” Psalm 32:1

 

©Erika Rice

Faith, Lessons, Travel

Jerusalem with Jesus

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My husband and I teach the 7th and 8th grade class at our church on Wednesday nights. The last few weeks we’ve been turning the room into a big map of Israel, adding significant locations each week, telling some of the stories for which each place is known.

Two weeks ago, we visited Mt. Carmel. The students worked on their improvisational skills, acting out Elijah’s confrontation of King Ahab and defeat of the 450 prophets of Baal and 400 prophets of Asherah as I read straight from 1 Kings 18. After reenacting the story once, they switched characters and went through the story again from memory. That’s when I became a bull sacrificed on the altar, so that I, in my sons words, “could be as embarrassed as the rest of them.” With an evil king, dancing, fire from heaven, laughter and a mountain made of real caramel to eat afterwards, I hope it’s one Biblical event they won’t soon forget. On Mt. Carmel, God showed Himself real in a powerful way that no one present could deny. The other gods were shown not just to be weak, but non-existent.

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Views from the top of Mt. Carmel
Views from the top of Mt. Carmel
Monument memorializing Elijah's slaughter of the false prophets
Monument memorializing Elijah’s slaughter of the false prophets
View of the brook, Kishon, from Mt. Carmel - where false prophets were slaughtered by Elijah
View of the brook, Kishon, from Mt. Carmel – where false prophets were slaughtered by Elijah

Last week we walked through Jerusalem with Jesus. We highlighted twelve significant events leading up to the death and resurrection of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels. As we read the passages of Scripture, we looked at photos of the locations today. Sometimes, it helps to have a visual image of what we read and hear.

The Triumphal Entry – Luke 19:28-40

The Plot to Kill Jesus – Luke 22:1-6; Matthew 26:1-5, 14-16

Jesus Foretells Peter’s Denial – Matthew 26:30-35

Jesus Prays in Gethsemane – Matthew 26:36-46

Judas’ Betrayal – Matthew 26:47-50

Jesus Before The High Priest (Caiaphas) – Matthew 26:57-68

Peter Denies Jesus – Matthew 26:69-75

Jesus is Mocked – Matthew 27:27-31

The Crucifixion – Luke 23:26-38

Jesus Dies – Luke 23:44-47

Jesus is Buried – Luke 23:50-54; Matthew 27:57-61

The Resurrection – Matthew 28:1-10

Jerusalem from the top of the Mount of Olives
Jerusalem from the top of the Mount of Olives
The Mount of Olives from Old Jerusalem
The Mount of Olives from Old Jerusalem
The Eastern Gate, blocked in by Muslim conquerors because the Jews believed it was the gate through which the Messiah would enter the city
The Eastern Gate, blocked in by Muslim conquerors because the Jews believed it was the gate through which the Messiah would enter the city
The Garden of Gethsemane
The Garden of Gethsemane
St. Peter in Gallicantu Monastery, erected on the former site of Caiaphus's palace, where Jesus was taken to be tried after Judas' betrayal
St. Peter in Gallicantu Monastery, erected on the former site of Caiaphus’s palace, where Jesus was taken to be tried after Judas’ betrayal
Dungeons under the high priest's palace
Dungeons under the high priest’s palace
Depiction of Peter denying Jesus three times, in the courtyard of St. Peter in Gallicantu Monastery, formerly the courtyard of Caiaphas
Depiction of Peter denying Jesus three times, in the courtyard of St. Peter in Gallicantu Monastery, formerly the courtyard of Caiaphas
Remains of Roman pavement under the Convent of the Sisters of Zion, probably dating to Emperor Hadrian. On the stones are seen the remains of the "Game of the King" played by Roman soldiers.
Remains of Roman pavement under the Convent of the Sisters of Zion, probably dating to Emperor Hadrian. On the stones are seen the remains of the “Game of the King” played by Roman soldiers.
Some believe this is Golgotha, the Place of the Skull, due to its resemblance of a skull as well as its location outside the city walls where three roads converge to enter the city; a location of high visibility warning visitors to Jerusalem not to break the law.
Some believe this is Golgotha, the Place of the Skull, due to its resemblance of a skull as well as its location outside the city walls where three roads converge to enter the city; a location of high visibility warning visitors to Jerusalem not to break the law.

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Upon seeing the ledge for rolling the tombstone in place, one of our students said, “That doesn’t look so hard to move.” Imagine my excitement that he noticed the details! Sometimes, visuals are great aids to our understanding. It makes sense of Matthew 27:62-66, where the chief priests request that the tomb be sealed and guarded so no one could steal Jesus body and claim He had risen from the dead.

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And yet, the tomb was empty when the women visited it at dawn on the first day of the week! The stone was rolled away and Jesus himself met the women and spoke to them, proving what the angels had just told them… (Matthew 28:1-10)

web-sizeHe is not here, for He is RISEN!  Matthew 28:6

Just as on Mt. Carmel, God showed Himself real in the most powerful of ways. No other god, or world leader, or prophet has done what Jesus did. No other god has humbled himself to become a man, has died a criminal’s death though completely innocent, and then risen again to live forever. Many have tried to deny the reality of the resurrection ever since (Matthew 28:11-15), but all who believe have received grace upon grace from His fullness (John 1:16).

“He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God,”  John 1:12

This is great news! If our students learn anything from our mapping of Israel and telling its stories; the best and most important lesson they, or any of us, can learn from Mt. Carmel or a walk through Jerusalem with Jesus is that God is the only God and Jesus the only Savior. Life is given to all who believe in His name.

 

©Erika Rice

Faith, Worship

Resting

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I have a confession to make: I rarely make it through the pastor’s sermon application and summation without having the “perfect” closing hymn come to mind. Certainly, there could be many hymns that fit the bill, and the one I think of is not usually the one we sing. But that’s not the point.

The point is that my pick for today’s closing hymn actually came before the sermon. It’s been floating around my head the last couple days. In fact, I caught myself drifting to it during the sermon more than once and had to reign in my thoughts so as not to miss anything my pastor was saying. Today, he was helping us understand Moses’ pleading with God in Exodus 33:12-17, pleading with God to go with him. It’s all about knowing God and being known by God. His conclusion was that in God’s presence, in knowing and being known, because of Jesus’ work on our behalf, there is rest and there is joy. All of a sudden, I was right back in the middle of that hymn, the hymn whose words have been floating through my head for the last couple days. We sang a different hymn to close the service, but that’s okay. I love the one we sang just as much, and another day I’m sure it will be the one I can’t get out of my head. But for today, Jesus, I am resting, resting, in the joy of what Thou art.

Jesus! I am resting, resting
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.
Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee,
And Thy beauty fills my soul,
For, by Thy transforming power,
Thou hast made me whole.

Jesus! I am resting, resting
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.

Oh, how great Thy loving kindness,
Vaster, broader than the sea:
Oh, how marvelous Thy goodness,
Lavished all on me!
Yes, I rest in Thee, Beloved,
Know what wealth of grace is Thine,
Know Thy certainty of promise,
And have made it mine.

Simply trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold Thee as Thou art,
And Thy love, so pure, so changeless,
Satisfies my heart,
Satisfies its deepest longings,
Meets, supplies its every need,
Compasseth me round with blessings,
Thine is love indeed.

Ever lift Thy face upon me,
As I work and wait for Thee;
Resting ’neath Thy smile, Lord Jesus,
Earth’s dark shadows flee.
Brightness of my Father’s glory,
Sunshine of my Father’s face,
Keep me ever trusting, resting,
Fill me with Thy grace.

~Jean Sophia Pigott, 1845-1882

©Erika Rice

 

Faith, Travel, Worship

Living Water

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For 6 years I lived in a house where water ran in short supply. Some days a single flush of the toilet would drain the well dry. Circumstances like that tend to create a hyper-sensitivity to water’s source, supply, and squandering.

When I arrived in Jordan last month, I watched the vegetation grow scarce as I ascended up out of the Jordan River valley. I saw virtually no signs of water during the hours I journeyed south to the town of Petra. By the time I arrived, it was impossible for me to flush the toilet without wondering where the water would come from to refill the tank. I welcomed a shower, but reverted to my old water-saving habits. I wanted to know where the water came from in a place that averages 4-6 inches of rainfall per year.

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Then I stood on top of Mount Nebo, opposite Jericho, where the Lord showed Moses all the promised land before Moses died. Overcast skies prevented me from seeing all that Moses saw, but my limited view showed me inhospitable desert land. My thoughts went straight to water. The people of Israel wandered in that wilderness. The people complained because there was no water.

“The people grumbled at Moses, saying ‘What shall we drink?'” (Exodus 15:24). “But the people thirsted there for water; and they grumbled against Moses” (Exodus 17:3a).

Looking toward Jericho from Mt. Nebo
Looking toward Jericho from Mt. Nebo

On it went as they wandered. I looked, and I related. I do not know that I would have done better than they. They who tasted God’s provision day after day. They who saw His power in so many miraculous signs, the power of a God who patiently waited for them to trust Him to meet each need. Every day he gave them food. Every time they thirsted, He provided them water to drink.

Then I think about Jesus telling a Samaritan woman at a well, where she had come to draw water, that “whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:14). She immediately wanted the water He offered. And when she ran to tell others about the one she’d met and what he’d said she left her jar of water sitting by the well, never giving it a thought. Can you imagine a promise like that to people living in a thirsty land? To never thirst again? Unthinkable. And so desirable.

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God’s people spent 40 years wandering in the wilderness, learning to desire One greater than a drink of water and trust Him fully. God wanted the people to see that He, Himself, was the stream of living water, quenching all their thirst, meeting all their needs. I have lived where there is no water, and have learned that there is One more desirable.  One who meets my every true need, the very needs of my soul. I have drunk the living water and have found His promise true. May I never thirst again for water that doesn’t satisfy. 

 

© Erika Rice 2014