Reading through the only pages of this blog, I found this - from December, 2010:
"P.S. John says that next year I'm going to have a blog called "A Land Sown". I love how he encourages me -- and makes me laugh!! Praise God for that, what would I do without him."
I think "God Enriches" is pretty close... :-)
Monday, October 24, 2011
New Blog Title
Sometimes I think God does things just to make us laugh.
For the last year (about) that I have had this blog, it has been titled "A Land Not Sown". This was to describe what was easily the hardest year of my life, using the verse in Jeremiah 2: “I remember the devotion of your youth, your love as a bride, how you followed me in the wilderness, in a land not sown." (Jeremiah 2:2 ESV) Since that time, things have gotten easier. Then God picked up our family and moved us to a literal desert: Arizona. And then I look up the slogan for Arizona, which is the new title of my blog: "Ditat Deus", which means "God Enriches".
It is so neat how God shows His care for us in even the smallest providential ways. I loved how lush and green West Virginia was, even during my time of physical wilderness. And as God brings healing, He takes me to live in a desert. It seems a small thing that God worked it that way, but I know He did it to remind me that He always has a great plan that we can't see.
And it reminds me that, really...even in A Land Not Sown, God Enriches.
For the last year (about) that I have had this blog, it has been titled "A Land Not Sown". This was to describe what was easily the hardest year of my life, using the verse in Jeremiah 2: “I remember the devotion of your youth, your love as a bride, how you followed me in the wilderness, in a land not sown." (Jeremiah 2:2 ESV) Since that time, things have gotten easier. Then God picked up our family and moved us to a literal desert: Arizona. And then I look up the slogan for Arizona, which is the new title of my blog: "Ditat Deus", which means "God Enriches".
It is so neat how God shows His care for us in even the smallest providential ways. I loved how lush and green West Virginia was, even during my time of physical wilderness. And as God brings healing, He takes me to live in a desert. It seems a small thing that God worked it that way, but I know He did it to remind me that He always has a great plan that we can't see.
And it reminds me that, really...even in A Land Not Sown, God Enriches.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Yes, I have been enjoying Spurgeon lately. How did you guess? :-)
"Delight in divine service is a token of acceptance. Those who serve God with a sad countenance, because they do what is unpleasant to them, are not serving Him at all; they bring the form of homage, but the life is absent. Our God requires no slaves to grace His throne; He is the Lord of the empire of love, and would have His servants dressed in the livery of joy. The angels of God serve Him with songs, not with groans; a murmur or a sigh would be a mutiny in their ranks. That obedience which is not voluntary is disobedience, for the Lord looketh at the heart, and if He seeth that we serve Him from force, and not because we love Him, He will reject our offering. Service coupled with cheerfulness is heart-service, and therefore true. Take away joyful willingness from the Christian, and you have removed the test of his sincerity. If a man be driven to battle, he is no patriot; but he who marches into the fray with flashing eye and beaming face, singing, "It is sweet for one's country to die," proves himself to be sincere in his patriotism. Cheerfulness is the support of our strength; in the joy of the Lord are we strong. It acts as the remover of difficulties. It is to our service what oil is to the wheels of a railway carriage. Without oil the axle soon grows hot, and accidents occur; and if there be not a holy cheerfulness to oil our wheels, our spirits will be clogged with weariness. The man who is cheerful in his service of God, proves that obedience is his element; he can sing,
"Make me to walk in Thy commands, 'Tis a delightful road."
Reader, let us put this question--do you serve the Lord with gladness? Let us show to the people of the world, who think our religion to be slavery, that it is to us a delight and a joy! Let our gladness proclaim that we serve a good Master. "
- Charles Spurgeon
"Make me to walk in Thy commands, 'Tis a delightful road."
Reader, let us put this question--do you serve the Lord with gladness? Let us show to the people of the world, who think our religion to be slavery, that it is to us a delight and a joy! Let our gladness proclaim that we serve a good Master. "
- Charles Spurgeon
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
As Long as You Are Glorified
Shall I take from Your hand Your blessings,
Yet not welcome any pain?
Shall I thank You for days of sunshine,
Yet grumble in days of rain?
Shall I love You in times of plenty
Then leave You in days of drought?
Shall I trust when I reap a harvest
But when winter winds blow, then doubt?
Oh, let Your will be done in me
In Your love I will abide.
Oh, I long for nothing else as long
As You are glorified.
Are You good only when I prosper?
And true only when I’m filled?
Are You King only when I’m carefree?
And God only when I’m well?
You are good when I’m poor and needy.
You are true when I’m parched and dry.
You still reign in the deepest valley,
You’re still God in the darkest night.
© 2008 Sovereign Grace Praise
Yet not welcome any pain?
Shall I thank You for days of sunshine,
Yet grumble in days of rain?
Shall I love You in times of plenty
Then leave You in days of drought?
Shall I trust when I reap a harvest
But when winter winds blow, then doubt?
Oh, let Your will be done in me
In Your love I will abide.
Oh, I long for nothing else as long
As You are glorified.
Are You good only when I prosper?
And true only when I’m filled?
Are You King only when I’m carefree?
And God only when I’m well?
You are good when I’m poor and needy.
You are true when I’m parched and dry.
You still reign in the deepest valley,
You’re still God in the darkest night.
© 2008 Sovereign Grace Praise
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
"Looking unto Jesus."
Hebrews 12:2
It is ever the Holy Spirit's work to turn our eyes away from self to Jesus; but Satan's work is just the opposite of this, for he is constantly trying to make us regard ourselves instead of Christ. He insinuates, "Your sins are too great for pardon; you have no faith; you do not repent enough; you will never be able to continue to the end; you have not the joy of his children; you have such a wavering hold of Jesus." All these are thoughts about self, and we shall never find comfort or assurance by looking within. But the Holy Spirit turns our eyes entirely away from self: he tells us that we are nothing, but that "Christ is all in all." Remember, therefore, it is not thy hold of Christ that saves thee--it is Christ; it is not thy joy in Christ that saves thee--it is Christ; it is not even faith in Christ, though that be the instrument--it is Christ's blood and merits; therefore, look not so much to thy hand with which thou art grasping Christ, as to Christ; look not to thy hope, but to Jesus, the source of thy hope; look not to thy faith, but to Jesus, the author and finisher of thy faith. We shall never find happiness by looking at our prayers, our doings, or our feelings; it is what Jesus is, not what we are, that gives rest to the soul. If we would at once overcome Satan and have peace with God, it must be by "looking unto Jesus." Keep thine eye simply on him; let his death, his sufferings, his merits, his glories, his intercession, be fresh upon thy mind; when thou wakest in the morning look to him; when thou liest down at night look to him. Oh! let not thy hopes or fears come between thee and Jesus; follow hard after him, and he will never fail thee.
- Charles Spurgeon, Morning and Evening, June 28
Hebrews 12:2
It is ever the Holy Spirit's work to turn our eyes away from self to Jesus; but Satan's work is just the opposite of this, for he is constantly trying to make us regard ourselves instead of Christ. He insinuates, "Your sins are too great for pardon; you have no faith; you do not repent enough; you will never be able to continue to the end; you have not the joy of his children; you have such a wavering hold of Jesus." All these are thoughts about self, and we shall never find comfort or assurance by looking within. But the Holy Spirit turns our eyes entirely away from self: he tells us that we are nothing, but that "Christ is all in all." Remember, therefore, it is not thy hold of Christ that saves thee--it is Christ; it is not thy joy in Christ that saves thee--it is Christ; it is not even faith in Christ, though that be the instrument--it is Christ's blood and merits; therefore, look not so much to thy hand with which thou art grasping Christ, as to Christ; look not to thy hope, but to Jesus, the source of thy hope; look not to thy faith, but to Jesus, the author and finisher of thy faith. We shall never find happiness by looking at our prayers, our doings, or our feelings; it is what Jesus is, not what we are, that gives rest to the soul. If we would at once overcome Satan and have peace with God, it must be by "looking unto Jesus." Keep thine eye simply on him; let his death, his sufferings, his merits, his glories, his intercession, be fresh upon thy mind; when thou wakest in the morning look to him; when thou liest down at night look to him. Oh! let not thy hopes or fears come between thee and Jesus; follow hard after him, and he will never fail thee.
- Charles Spurgeon, Morning and Evening, June 28
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Spirit of Giving
"Now, dear Christians, some of you pray night and day to be branches of the true Vine; you pray to be made all over in the image of Christ. If so, you must be like him in giving. A branch bears the same kind of fruit as the tree… An old divine says well: ‘What would have become of us if Christ had been as saving of His blood as some men are of their money?’
Objection 1: ‘My money is my own.’ Answer: Christ might have said, ‘My blood is my own, my life is my own’ …then where should we have been?
Objection 2: ‘The poor are undeserving.’ Answer: Christ might have said the same thing. ‘They are wicked rebels against my Father’s law: shall I lay down my life for these? I will give to the good angels.’ But no, He left the ninety-nine and came after the lost. He gave His blood for the undeserving.
Objection 3: ‘The poor may abuse it.’ Answer: Christ might have said the same; yea, with far greater truth. Christ knew that thousands would trample His blood under their feet; that most would despise it…yet He gave His own blood.
Oh, my dear Christians! If you would be like Christ, give much, give often, give freely, to the vile and the poor, the thankless and the undeserving. Christ is glorious and happy, and so will you be. It is not your money I want, but your happiness. Remember His own word: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’
Robert Murray McCheyne (1813-1843)
Sermon 82
Objection 1: ‘My money is my own.’ Answer: Christ might have said, ‘My blood is my own, my life is my own’ …then where should we have been?
Objection 2: ‘The poor are undeserving.’ Answer: Christ might have said the same thing. ‘They are wicked rebels against my Father’s law: shall I lay down my life for these? I will give to the good angels.’ But no, He left the ninety-nine and came after the lost. He gave His blood for the undeserving.
Objection 3: ‘The poor may abuse it.’ Answer: Christ might have said the same; yea, with far greater truth. Christ knew that thousands would trample His blood under their feet; that most would despise it…yet He gave His own blood.
Oh, my dear Christians! If you would be like Christ, give much, give often, give freely, to the vile and the poor, the thankless and the undeserving. Christ is glorious and happy, and so will you be. It is not your money I want, but your happiness. Remember His own word: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’
Robert Murray McCheyne (1813-1843)
Sermon 82
Thursday, May 26, 2011
A Grief Observed
It is raining here - an incredible storm. And the power just went out. :-) A good time to reflect, read, and write...
A couple years ago, I picked up A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. As an author that I thoroughly enjoyed, and easily (or maybe not, since there are rivals) my favorite, I was excited to get into it. I found myself a little surprised…I was not able to identify with his struggle over the death of his wife at all. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised – but it seemed like he was talking about an aspect of God that I hadn’t met. There were some good conclusions at the end, but I still felt like I wouldn’t be able to understand for a very long time what this man was dealing with.
Then I opened the pages of it again this week. It was like a balm on my aching heart! This time I felt like there was someone who understood what I’m going through. I know having someone you love die must be different than this, but an aspect of it is just so similar…especially dealing with grief at such a deep level. It brings us all to the same place in wrestling with Who our God is. Here is some of what he wrote that was significant to me. First, the cruelty we sense in what is really God's mercy:
“The terrible thing is that a perfectly good God is in this matter hardly less formidable than a Cosmic Sadist. The more we believe that God hurts only to heal, the less we can believe that there is any use in begging for tenderness. A cruel man might be bribed – might grow tired of his vile sport -- might have a temporary fit of mercy, as alcoholics have fits of sobriety. But suppose that what you are up against is a surgeon whose intentions are wholly good. The kinder and more conscientious he is, the more inexorably he will go on cutting. If he yielded to your entreaties, if he stopped before the operation was complete, all the pain up to that point would have been useless. But is it credible that such extremities of torture should be necessary for us? Well, take your choice. The tortures occur. If they are unnecessary, then there is no God or a bad one. If there is a good God, then these tortures are necessary. For no even moderately good Being could possibly inflict or permit them if they weren't.
“What do people mean when they say ‘I am not afraid of God because I know He is good’? Have they never been to a dentist?”
And this part is so comforting to me. On how God teaches us to want HIM…not just the things He takes from us (in Lewis’ case, his wife “H”). And thoughts on how He sees and loves, even when we can’t understand His silence.
“Am I, for instance, just sidling back to God because I know that if there's any road to H. it runs through Him? But then of course I know perfectly well that He can't be used as a road. If you're approaching Him not as the goal but as a road, not as the end but as a means, you're not really approaching Him at all. That's what was really wrong with all those popular pictures of happy reunions ‘on the further shore’; not the simple-minded and very earthly images, but the fact that they make an End of what we can get only as a by-product of the true End.
“Lord, are these your real terms? Can I meet H. again only if I learned to love You so much that I don't care whether I meet her or not? Consider, Lord, how it looks to us. What would anyone think of me if I said to the boys, ‘no toffee now. But when you've grown up and don't really want toffee you shall have as much of it as you choose’?
If I knew that being eternally divided from H. and eternally forgotten by her would add greater joy and splendor to her being, of course I'd say, ‘Fire ahead.’ Just as if, on earth, I could have cured her cancer by never seeing her again, I'd have arranged never to see her again. I'd have had to. Any decent person would. But that's quite different. That's not a situation I'm in.
“When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of ‘no answer’. It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, ‘peace, child; you don't understand.’
“Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are there in a mile? Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask -- half our great theological and metaphysical problems -- are like that.
(…)
“His love and His knowledge are not distinct from one another, nor from Him. We could almost say He sees because He loves, and therefore loves although He sees.”
I am so thankful for Lewis' grieving, and for his transparency and giftedness in expressing it. Truly our God does "[comfort] us in our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." I praise Him for that.
A couple years ago, I picked up A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. As an author that I thoroughly enjoyed, and easily (or maybe not, since there are rivals) my favorite, I was excited to get into it. I found myself a little surprised…I was not able to identify with his struggle over the death of his wife at all. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised – but it seemed like he was talking about an aspect of God that I hadn’t met. There were some good conclusions at the end, but I still felt like I wouldn’t be able to understand for a very long time what this man was dealing with.
Then I opened the pages of it again this week. It was like a balm on my aching heart! This time I felt like there was someone who understood what I’m going through. I know having someone you love die must be different than this, but an aspect of it is just so similar…especially dealing with grief at such a deep level. It brings us all to the same place in wrestling with Who our God is. Here is some of what he wrote that was significant to me. First, the cruelty we sense in what is really God's mercy:
“The terrible thing is that a perfectly good God is in this matter hardly less formidable than a Cosmic Sadist. The more we believe that God hurts only to heal, the less we can believe that there is any use in begging for tenderness. A cruel man might be bribed – might grow tired of his vile sport -- might have a temporary fit of mercy, as alcoholics have fits of sobriety. But suppose that what you are up against is a surgeon whose intentions are wholly good. The kinder and more conscientious he is, the more inexorably he will go on cutting. If he yielded to your entreaties, if he stopped before the operation was complete, all the pain up to that point would have been useless. But is it credible that such extremities of torture should be necessary for us? Well, take your choice. The tortures occur. If they are unnecessary, then there is no God or a bad one. If there is a good God, then these tortures are necessary. For no even moderately good Being could possibly inflict or permit them if they weren't.
“What do people mean when they say ‘I am not afraid of God because I know He is good’? Have they never been to a dentist?”
And this part is so comforting to me. On how God teaches us to want HIM…not just the things He takes from us (in Lewis’ case, his wife “H”). And thoughts on how He sees and loves, even when we can’t understand His silence.
“Am I, for instance, just sidling back to God because I know that if there's any road to H. it runs through Him? But then of course I know perfectly well that He can't be used as a road. If you're approaching Him not as the goal but as a road, not as the end but as a means, you're not really approaching Him at all. That's what was really wrong with all those popular pictures of happy reunions ‘on the further shore’; not the simple-minded and very earthly images, but the fact that they make an End of what we can get only as a by-product of the true End.
“Lord, are these your real terms? Can I meet H. again only if I learned to love You so much that I don't care whether I meet her or not? Consider, Lord, how it looks to us. What would anyone think of me if I said to the boys, ‘no toffee now. But when you've grown up and don't really want toffee you shall have as much of it as you choose’?
If I knew that being eternally divided from H. and eternally forgotten by her would add greater joy and splendor to her being, of course I'd say, ‘Fire ahead.’ Just as if, on earth, I could have cured her cancer by never seeing her again, I'd have arranged never to see her again. I'd have had to. Any decent person would. But that's quite different. That's not a situation I'm in.
“When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of ‘no answer’. It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, ‘peace, child; you don't understand.’
“Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are there in a mile? Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask -- half our great theological and metaphysical problems -- are like that.
(…)
“His love and His knowledge are not distinct from one another, nor from Him. We could almost say He sees because He loves, and therefore loves although He sees.”
I am so thankful for Lewis' grieving, and for his transparency and giftedness in expressing it. Truly our God does "[comfort] us in our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." I praise Him for that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)