Held in Peace

 "And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, 

will guard and keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." 

Philippians 4:7

Doesn’t it seem strange to talk about “peace” in this place where tornadoes destroy and babies die? What is this peace that we have in Christ? Does the peace of God somehow lift us above the fear and grief that is part of the human condition?

Christians suffer, in body and in spirit in this place.

We are not given the peace of the Stoic. We are not told smile when all is well, and smile when the cancer is terminal. We are not told to close our hearts to that which could disturb our peace. We do not experience a mystical inner collection with God that allows us to weather the storms of this life like immovable statues. No, we flip and fly with the winds, much like the rest of the world.

In our experience, we who have peace with Christ often do not feel very peaceful at all, not in this place.

Christians suffer, and yet there is peace in Christ.

Those who are not in Christ are like a kite unfettered; free-wheeling through the sky; vulnerable to the winds and the elements. The crash is inevitable. The flight is terrifying.

We who have Christ are like the kite held by the strong father.

We have peace with God, and yet we live in this fallen world for a little while longer. 

We are still assaulted by the winds.

The rain falls, and some of the turns make our stomachs lurch. 

We may even feel as if we are careening out of control, and we brace for impact. 

But even in the worst of storms, we are tethered to a Rock.

We are held fast by Him who loves us.

As we flip and fly in this life, we know that nothing that assaults us can force us out of his hands.

He will hold us fast.

And one day He will reel us in, to Himself. 

He will bring us to our home of forever peace, in perfect safety.

Until then, even as we flip and fly, His grip is our peace.

photo credit

His grip is our peace.

You may also enjoy: Devotions by Emily and My Weakness/His Strength

The battle is too big for you. Be still.

"The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still." Exodus 14:14

What does this mean?  Is this one we can apply to ourselves or only the specific biblical context situation?  Or maybe ourselves sometimes?

I got this question from a friend, and I jokingly replied, “I think I’m just going to be still and let God answer that question for me.”

Honestly, I would love the permission to use this one whenever I felt like it. Political conversation that makes me uncomfortable? Sorry, I’m too busy being still to engage.  Laundry needs to be done? Nope, I need to be still.  Kids screaming at each other?  I’ll let God sort it out while I read my Bible.

Alas, this Scripture is not meant to be a trump card to use in the battles we’d rather not fight.

---

It is never wise to pull one verse out of Scripture and examine it alone. So what’s the context?

Moses is leading the Israelites away from the Egyptians. All looks to be lost: their backs are up against the Red Sea, they are outnumbered, vulnerable, and they see no way out.

There have been battles that simply end at this point; sometimes, God does allow the enemy temporal victories, and the Christian is called to simply be slaughtered and yet still trust.  Sometimes, we must actively fight evil to stop its spread, and God is pleased with those who defend the weak.  (Thank you, veterans, police officers, brave souls of all kinds who God uses to stem the flood of evil in this place).

But in this case, God did something different.  God brought His people to the end of themselves: to that place where it was obvious there was NO hope in salvation coming from their own two hands.  And then, God did a miracle. He intervened when it was impossible, and He rescued His people.

Surely there was a moment when that word of hope from Moses seemed too incredible to believe. Those are nice sounding words Moses, but do you see their chariots? Look how sharp are the swords! Do you see the rage in the eyes of our enemies? They will delight in tearing us apart! They are coming, and we are defenseless!

And then, the miracle. God parted the seas, and they walked through on dry ground.

Feet stepping on dry ground where water had been only moments before... can you imagine the wonder they felt? The amazement and fear, the utter certainty that this rescue was NOT of their own doing but a work of the God of the universe!

And after God did this thing, His people rejoiced and sang. Hear the words of Moses:

“I will sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously;
   the horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.
The Lord is my strength and my song,
   and he has become my salvation;
this is my God, and I will praise him,
   my father's God, and I will exalt him.” (Exodus 15)

Salvation at the hand of God- truly this is a marvelous thing! And the glory of God is brighter in our eyes  when we have seen our own helplessness, when we have despaired of creating safety with our own two hands. This miraculous rescue of God’s people from the Egyptians is meant to give us cause for rejoicing and trust as well, because it is a foreshadowing of the same work that God is doing for us today.

Be still. The battle is too big for you. The Lord will fight for you in the most important battle you wage: the battle with sin, death, and the devil.  Have you tried fighting this battle on your own? Have you seen the futility of your own efforts? Despair of your resources and look to Jesus! Without the miraculous intervention of our God, we would be surrounded and overcome; slaughtered with glee by our enemies.   But our God does not leave us in this place.

He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. (Col 1:13)

He has won for us the biggest and most impossible battle in His death and resurrection.   We are in-between times: we hear the word of promise and victory, and yet we see the glint of the sword, we feel the gunshot wounds from the enemy.   We come up against our own powerlessness and we have reason to fear.   But even today, in the fight against the evil our God invites us to be still.

Stillness is not necessarily inactivity. The Israelites had to walk across the dry ground!  But the spirit with which they walked must have been so different than the spirit with which they sharpened their own swords in fearful defiance of the enemy they still hoped to defeat.  They no longer cried out in terror to Moses, but they walked forward in wonder and in trust, confident in the mighty hand of God, strong to save.

It’s is the word of God’s miraculous hand that gives us stillness of heart, even as the battle still rages.  Step forward, hold fast to His Word, and Let God make your heart still.

The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen. (2 Tim 4:18)

Rejoice with Zecharaiah:

“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
   for he has visited and redeemed his people... to grant us
 that we, being delivered from the hand of our enemies,
might serve him without fear,
   in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.
And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
   for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to his people
   in the forgiveness of their sins,
because of the tender mercy of our God,
   whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
   to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

Just Come

Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. 

Whoever comes to me will never go hungry,

and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

But as I told you, you have seen me and still you do not believe.  

All those the Father gives me will come to me, 

and whoever comes to me I will never drive away. 

For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me.  

And this is the will of him who sent me, that I shall lose none of all those he has given me, 

but raise them up at the last day. 

For my Father’s will is that everyone 

who looks to the Son and believes in him 

shall have eternal life, 

and I will raise them up at the last day.”

John 6:35-40

What does God require of me?
COME.
Not behave, then come.
Not fix my heart, not sort it all out. Not buck up. Not be strong.

Just. Come.

And He says "whoever comes I will never drive away."

Think on this with me today. Read the verse again slowly.

Don't skim.

It is God's will that whoever comes to Him
(Me! You!)
shall NOT be lost,

It is God's will that we come,
and
It is God's will that we are cared-for,
kept safe in him,
redeemed and restored and healed and helped,
and finally, raised up on the last day.

We are in His hands. We only need "come" and He will do the rest.

Let's rest in that today.

Father,

You invite me to come to You, through Your Son. Melt my stubborn heart, and teach me to come to you as your child. Grant me a heart that repents, trusts, and clings to You in all things.  Keep me safe in Your grace, that I may know Your peace. Amen.

(reposted from 9/12)

His Words make good earplugs. (Hobbling Mama #2)

There are books on the floor, but I need to ice my foot. I sit here, trying to quiet the voices of things left undone in this house. They don't understand why I'm not listening to their demands. I usually do. The crooked, broken, sticky messy things nag me, not caring about my injury.

The little boys are aware of my injury, so much so that they are using it to their advantage.  A mom who cannot move quickly does not have to be obeyed quickly.  A mom on crutches might let it go, just this one time, and maybe a few more.

Things are slipping out of control.

Yet they are finally sleeping, and it is raining.
I sit with my Bible and my laptop, and I try to grab just one little moment of peace.

The things undone laugh at me.
Peace cannot be found in all this clutter.

But distraction can.
I open my email, my blogger dashboard, my facebook.
And it feels like more clutter.  More nagging. No peace.
I close the laptop.



1 Peter
Peter, and apostle of Jesus Christ,
to those who reside as aliens, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, who are chosen....

To those who reside as aliens, who are scattered- yes, I am part of this. I am part of God's family, promised life but living in a dying world.  I am not at home here.

Who are chosen.
Chosen.  My thoughts rest in this word for a moment.
I am chosen. Loved.

...according to the foreknowledge of God the father, by the sanctifying word of the Spirit, unto obedience and sprinkling with His blood: May grace and peace by yours in the fullest measure.

Yes, His precious blood, His body given for me.  His death means forgiveness for me. His blood means grace. His grip on me...
His grip means peace.
I am caught up in the work of the Trinity.

The boys sleep. The rain from heaven falls gently, and from my window I see the thirst of the earth satisfied.  I see quiet growth, and green, cared-for life.

And I want to take a picture of it, but my foot and my God remind me to be still.

I am still.
And my ears are full of His Word, so I cannot hear the jeers of the things undone.
I listen to the soft rain shower, watch His kindness to the earth.  I consider how much more He cares for me.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are protected by the power of God, through faith, for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.  

In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials...

1 Peter 1:1-6

Thank you Father, for the joy and peace that is found in Your grip.
Love, your daughter.

anxiety in the car

When we drive, I sit at attention. I try not to worry but I do worry, especially when the road is narrow and the drop off is steep. I listen to music and look up at the trees passing by and I don’t actively think of tragedy, but sometimes it comes in flashes. It comes uninvited. The image of the far slipping off the road, rolling down the hill; broken glass and blood and could I even reach my cell phone?