Forgiveness

Matthew 18:21-22 Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, "Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?" Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.

Lately, I have been thinking alot about forgiveness. I guess it is because I have so much in my life that needs to be forgiven. I also am beginning to recognize just how hard it can be to forgive others - especially when they have injured you in a very deep and profound way.

When Peter came to Jesus to ask Him how often he needed to forgive an offending brother I honestly think that Peter thought Jesus would be content with 7. Not so. Our Lord challenged Peter to forgive not just 7 times but 77 times. Of course, the number is unimportant. It is the concept that no matter how many times a brother or sister offends me I am to forgive.

How hard it is though when I see someone purposely doing hurtful things to me or to others and to realize that God expects me to reach out and forgive one more time. It is a stretch. And sadly, I am not always successful. I feel at times as though I will never be able to get beyond it. But then I am reminded of my own sin. I am reminded of how many times I let others down and wanted their love and forgiveness just the same.

The challenge for me is discerning the difference between forgiveness and enabling. For example, if you know that someone is doing something that is sinful and wrong and even following confrontation about their actions they are unwilling to change - what do you do? Do you forgive? What would Jesus have me to do in that case?

There were challenging times in my past where I was deeply involved in behaviors which brought pain and harm to those that I loved. Some of the consequences of that behavior I have to live with for the rest of my life. And there were some difficult choices that my brothers and sisters in Christ had to make. It hurt. Yet, now looking back on all of it I realize that God was using that to prepare me for restoration. His forgiveness was never in question. He was just waiting for me to come back. He was there all the time.

Recently, I have taken to writing or contacting people who I felt I had hurt. Each and every one of them have extended to me the healing touch of forgiveness. Sometimes it overwhelms me how gracious they all have been. I feel so undeserving. It has been such an emotional rollercoaster. Yet I know that God is using this as a window for me to look out and to see that I too must be willing to forgive others. I must be willing to see past their sin and look only to what God would have me to be in their lives.

I do not think that forgiveness needs to "excuse" poor choices or bad behavior. I know that God has forgiven me. Still there are consequences that I cannot sidestep. They are my reality. This is true of those that I am in relationship with as well. Simply because I choose to forgive (and it is a choice) does not mean that I condon the sin. To be able to walk in truth in these hard things is where the struggle comes in for me.

All in all God is teaching me lessons. He is teaching me that the same hand of forgiveness that I longed for needs to be extended out to others. He is teaching me that His grace is enough. He is teaching me that the love and mercy that He demonstrated toward me is the same that He wants me to shower on those He has put in my life.

"Oh Father, I do pray for forgiveness for not always being willing to forgive others as You have forgiven me. Teach me how to forgive - not as I would - but as You would."

Patterns

Sometimes I find that being an introspective person can be a bit disheartening. Especially when you see patterns that emerge in your life that are neither positive or godly. Why is it that we struggle so much with some strongholds in our lives? Why is it that we cannot learn from one experience and put an end to behaviors which are destructive?

I believe that deep inside of me there is this dark place where the light of God's word still has not penetrated. I allow myself to engage in prideful behavior and also to put myself into places of authority that are only God's. Every time I do this I find it harder and harder to hear the voice of God in my life.

It is time for me to break this pattern and to put an end to those choices and those relationships which threaten to pull me away from my Father. I must learn how to put boundaries around myself. Tonight as I shared my current dilemma with my counselor he reminded me of a verse of scripture that I really need to concentrate on:

Matthew 6:33
But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well

The problem is that I have not been doing this. I have been seeking my own well-being and what makes me feel good about myself. Instead of really seeking God's kingdom and His righteousness I have fallen prey to the desires of the flesh. I pray that God will shine His light into the dark recesses of my heart and expose the sin that lurks there. It is time for me to make the right choices. It is time for me to be obedient and do what God calls me to do.

Forgive me, Father for trying to be something that I am not. Forgive me for trying to be you in the lives of others. How could I ever think that I was capable? You and You alone are God. I am your child and I am weak. Help me to remember that Your strength is made perfect in my weakness.

Sometimes I feel like I am just marking time

Day drifts into day
Night upon night
And still the nagging thoughts
Sometimes I feel like I am just marking time.

Hours turn to days
Days turn to weeks
Weeks turn to years
Sometimes I feel like I am just marking time.

Babies are born
Toddlers mature into children
Children grow to young adults
Sometimes I feel like I am just marking time.

What purpose do I serve
What questions can I answer
What change can I experience
Sometimes I feel like I am just marking time.

Teach me I pray to number my days
Teach me I pray to not dwell in the past
Teach me I pray to not fret over the future
Sometimes I feel like I must stop marking time.

Out of Focus

Philippians 1:21-26 "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your joy in Christ Jesus will overflow on account of me."

This morning in our group at church we talked about Philippians 1. This has been and continues to be one of my favorite passages in all of the New Testament. I have heard sermon after sermon on this text and yet today for some reason it impacted me more deeply than ever before.

Of late I have been thinking a lot about focus. What does my attention fall on? Are the circumstances of life my focus or is Christ? Am I more concerned with getting out from underneath the trial than learning the lesson through it? Am I more focused on myself or on my Lord? My life - as I look at it - has been out of focus.

When life is out of focus there is a deep sense of weariness. And I am weary. There has been such a deep-seeded pain for such a long time and I have been unable to rid myself of it. Try as I might to release it I seem incapable. My heart aches because the focus has been all wrong. The pain, the trials, the consequences all seem to be what I focus on. Instead of seeing Christ and glorying in His suffering I have tried to escape what God is trying to teach me. This causes me to be sad. This causes me to look at life through dark glasses. This causes my joy to be stolen away.

Our class leader today spoke of how we need to make Christ the focus of every aspect of our lives. I have heard that hundreds of times and yet today it was like it was all new. Each circumstance, each trial, each decision are all to be weighed in the scale of how will this bring glory and honor to Christ. It is not about me. It is about Christ. Wow - now that is a shift in focus.

It is all about you, Jesus. There is no greater thing. Words to a song that I have sung. Yet without focus. I have spent way too much time focused on myself. It is time to look at the lens of my life and zoom it in on the Master. The Lover of my Soul. The One who died and gave His life for my ransom. All that life holds is for Him. Not me.

Forgive me, Jesus for being out of focus. Forgive me for seeing my wants, my needs, my desires as more important, more valuable than You. Help me to choose You above all else. Teach me that which You would have me to learn about You. And help me to be an example to others of the healing that comes from having a right focus.

Like a Flower in the Snow

Grief is an odd emotion. There really isn't any descriptor that puts the reality of separation into perspective. Sometimes grief feels like salt being ground into a wound. Sometimes it is like a warm cup of coffee touching a cold hand. Sometimes it is like a flower in the snow. It is a jumble of heart, soul and spirit. And as each day passes I struggle with trying to sort it all out.

So many memories that flood my thoughts in the night. And really no one to talk them out with. After all - who but me really wants to remember the funny stories - like the huge TV we just had to have to watch the Super Bowl back in 1996. The one that we really couldn't afford. Or the time we drove the mountain pass in Yosemite and me wondering why it was that Ray always chose the direction with me looking out over the cliffs. Or how about the time when we lived in Florida and I ironed a shirt on the glass table top only to have it fall into Ray's lap. All of those are memories. All of those are like salt ground into an open wound.

What of the man who always listened? It is so hard not to have those ears any more. I have so many questions I want to ask of him. Things that will never be asked. I have so many warm thoughts - times when we shared the deepest of joys and even the deepest of sorrows. I think of the times when we held our little ones while they were sick and wondered if they would get well. I think of the times when we would dream of how they would grow to adulthood and what they would become. Oh how proud he was of them. All of those thoughts and questions are like a warm cup of coffee touching a cold hand.

The past and its changes. I wonder if forgiveness was given? I believe it was. I know that while it was never voiced - it was acted out. The hurt of the past is buried under the blanket of God's forgiveness. The white carpet of snow reminds me of the how my sin, my pain has all been wiped away by the shed blood of God's precious son. And out of all of that pain - all of that hurt - a flower can blossom. And the grief I feel now will give birth to that life. It will help me to remember Ray for the wonderful part of my life he was. I miss him. I miss knowing he was close. I miss knowing that he will not be with us in the days to come. But like a flower that pushes its way up through the snow - there is hope. Hope that we can grow to be more like the Master because of the witness of this precious part of our lives.

Goodbye, Ray

Picture albums are being opened and memories are being recited. I am no different. Sifting through over 20 years of history in the past couple of weeks has brought back so many wonderful and at times very painful memories of my relationship with Ray. Many of my friends have said "you need to write your thoughts down" so here goes.

I chose this picture because it represented a lot about the man that Ray was. Let me explain. First of all, you will notice in this picture a young Japanese boy. We were priviledged to have Takish live with us for 3 weeks one summer to help him learn more about the English language and to be exposed to living in a Christian home. Two things about that are important to this story. First of all - Ray loved to travel and he loved to learn about people groups from various parts of the world. So when I asked if we could be a part of this ministry - he heartily agreed. He brought to Takish's life a brief exposure to what a Christian father was like. And that young man was changed because of it. Secondly, it brought to life the fact that Ray desired that his children learn that it is okay to be different. Growing up in central Pennsyvlania can give kids a very jaded view of the world but Ray was determined that Geoff & Claire know and understand that all of the world is a part of God's creation and that every man, woman and child is loved by the Father.

Ray was also a very neat man. I think about him even now and I think of plaid flannel shirts buttoned down at the collar. I think about how he liked his shirts buttoned when they hung on the hangers. I think about how he always wanted Geoff & Claire to be neat and tidy when they went places or were involved in activities of any type. I can remember his exasperation at Geoff wearing his sneakers to graduation with duct tape all around them. And yet - he could laugh about it. He did not make "big deals" out of things.

Ray was a hard working man. My children knew that their father worked - and worked hard. Many a time Ray could be heard answering voice mail or working on paperwork for the company that he faithfully served for 27 years. The work ethic that both of my children have is a direct result of the pattern that they saw portrayed by their father. He was respected by all he worked with. This was evidenced by the many opportunities that were presented to him that furthered his career.

Ray's heart for the Lord grew over time. As the experiences of life taught him - he grew closer and in a deeper fellowship with the Father. I remember when Ray came to faith in Christ. It was like a great awakening. He had been dabbling in many faiths when we first met and we had some pretty intense arguments. He could not buy the fact that God created the world in 6 days. Whew.... for a girl who had lived that truth for a long time - that was a challenge. But, God in His infinite wisdom knew what it would take for Ray to come to truth. And when God brought Ray to live in Pennsylvania when he was all alone and had no one - he found Christ.

His heart for ministry was apparent to all who knew him. Together we served on a couple of mission trips. I can see him even now dabbing grout into the tiles at Black Forest Academy in Germany or handing out tracts at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta. All of it was for a greater purpose than bringing attention to himself. He wanted to serve the Lord passionately.

Ray loved his children dearly. As we brought each one of them home from the hospital it was wonderful to watch him grow as a dad. His steady influence has been something that both of my children have benefited from. Unlike me, Ray was unflappable. When I would lose control - he would maintain it. When I would get discouraged - he would find positives. His heart always was to have a strong family for Geoff & Claire to grow in. And he accomplished that.

I feel like I have lost a part of myself this week. I guess that is just the way of it. Some would say that divorced people should not feel that way. And maybe some don't. But, I do. I have lost the one person who truly knows my truth. I have lost the one person who remembers bringing home those babies or sending them off to school or off to far off places. I have lost a friend.

But I know in my heart that Ray would not want us to sit around and be sad. He was not like that. He was a person who was joyful. He would want us to reflect on all of the wonderful times, the special memories, the forgiveness and the love that has been shared by all who knew him.

For all the past, I thank you, Ray. You were a gift to me.

The Tattered Quilt

Piece by piece each remnant of cloth is stitched lovingly together. Some of the squares are made from tattered garments worn over time while others are cut from fresh cloth new from the store. The stitches that weave them together are placed appropriately in order to bind them together in a pattern known only to the Quilter. Slowly the artistic pattern takes shape. Its colors as varied as the Maker intends.

The quilt brings warmth to all who know it. They are comforted by its softness and at times amazed at its beauty and its complexity. As the years go by new patches are added and some are replaced. And still the Quilter keeps the pattern intact. There are patches that are taken from one quilt and moved to another but the common threads do not change. Even still are times when the Maker takes a patch and places it within His own quilt adding to its loveliness - a welcome addition to those that have been there before. Those patches leave gaping holes in the original quilt never to be replaced.

The Quilter knows that these holes exist. He knows that no material can be used that will fill the gap and He knows that the threads that once held that patch must now stretch in order to meet the ones left behind. It is that stretching of the threads which brings pain to the quilt. Some threads don't stretch as far as they must and the Maker adds reinforcements. At times He clips away the strands that no longer are used or are no longer able to bear its tension.

The quilt changes over time but is always the work of the Maker. Each piece is sewn in place by His grand design. It is His creation and His to keep - it is only ours to feel its warmth.