just do it

We all know enough of God's teachings to be saints, yet we all are not. It is so very hard to practice what we know is right when that "rubber hits the road" moment comes. Or is it? Here is a true story:

God's grace was powerfully displayed in the life of Corrie ten Boom, who had been imprisoned with her family by the Nazis for giving aid to Jews early in World War II. Her elderly father and beloved sister, Betsie, died as a result of the brutal treatment they received in prison. God sustained Corrie through her time in a concentration camp, and after the war she traveled throughout the world, testifying to God's love. Here is what she wrote about a remarkable encounter in Germany:

It was at a church service in Munich that I saw him, the former S.S. man who had stood guard at the shower room door in the processing center at Ravensbruck. He was the first of our actual jailers that I had seen since that time. And suddenly it was all there--the roomful of mocking men, the heaps of clothing, Betsie's pain-blanched face.

He came up to me as the church was emptying, beaming and bowing. "How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein," he said. "To think that, as you say, he has washed my sins away!"

His hand was thrust out to shake mine. And I, who had preached so often to the people in Bloemendall about the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side.

Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? "Lord Jesus," I prayed, "forgive me and help me to forgive him." 

I tried to smile, I struggled to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. "Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness."

As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me.

So I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world's healing hinges, but on him. When he tells us to love our enemies, he gives, along with the command, the love itself.

What I found most exciting in the above story is, we are God's instrument, literally. An instrument in the literal sense is a lifeless medium that conducts the will of its handler to the aimed recipient, and its job is done. Often times we are confused and stagnated by our own wills and emotions on whether we should or would, like or want, to do this or that--a
whirlwind in our own little tea-cup mind, we forget the big picture and that we are not really the one in charge. 

But then the magic comes when we summon ourselves and go out and do His will, all these virtual whirlwind are
replaced by substance and confirmation, and this lifeless instrument suddenly becomes a very alive part of the body of Christ!

Look forward to meeting you fellow parts/instruments Saturday,

PS, I plan to experiment my BBQ rotisserie with whatever chunk of meat appropriate I can find at Costco this Saturday. Be brave and bring an empty stomach with you when you come. First come first serve.

walk the valley

Here is a daily devotional I read the other day:

We have all experienced times of exaltation on the mountain, when we have seen things from God's perspective and have wanted to stay there. But God will never allow us to stay there. The true test of our spiritual life is in exhibiting the power to descend from the mountain. If we only have the power to go up, something is wrong. It is a wonderful thing to be on the mountain with God, but a person only gets there so that he may later go down and lift up the demon-possessed people in the valley (see Mark 9:14-18). 

We are not made for the mountains, for sunrises, or for the other beautiful attractions in life- those are simply intended to be moments of inspiration. We are made for the valley and the ordinary things of life, and that is where we have to prove our stamina and strength. Yet our spiritual selfishness always wants repeated moments on the mountain. We feel that we could talk and live like perfect angels, if we could only stay on the mountaintop. Those times of exaltation are exceptional and they have their meaning in our life with God, but we must beware to prevent our spiritual selfishness from wanting to make them the only time.

We are inclined to think that everything that happens is to be turned into useful teaching. In actual fact, it is to be turned into something even better than teaching, namely, character. The mountaintop is not meant to teach us anything, it is meant to make us something. There is a terrible trap in always asking, "What's the use of this experience?" We can never measure spiritual matters in that way. The moments on the mountaintop are rare moments, and they are meant for something in God's purpose.

Speaking for myself, I don't think I ever get that "mountain top" experience, have deep valley dropped a couple times, but then the rest, or most of my spiritual life, as far as I am aware of, are just plain walking ("on roads less travelled", I am tempted to add, but then that will sound so audacious, so unlike me :) So, my favorite phrases from the above, are "We are made for the valley and the ordinary things of life, and that is where we have to prove our stamina and strength", and "We are inclined to think that everything that happens is to be turned into useful teaching. In actual fact, it is to be turned into something even better than teaching, namely, character." 

Would like to hear about your mountain top/valley experiences, or your favorite take on the above, if you would like to share.