In my last post we looked at Colossians 4:6.  The rest of Paul’s letter is a sign-off of sorts, with people sending their greetings, prayers and warm wishes.  It is with sadness that we’re announcing that we, too, are signing off.  It has been such a privilege to do life with you over the last several years.  Thank you. 

While Krista, Michele and I still have a deep desire to bring God glory through the written and spoken word, we’ve come to realize that our intersections are changing addresses.  For me, I’m just a few weeks away from launching the ministry God laid on my heart years ago.  Eyes of your Heart Ministries is birthed from Ephesians 1:18, which says, “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you.”  In a day and age when hope can seem elusive and my faith is clouded by the worries and things of this world, I’m on a quest to begin seeing through the eyes of my heart.  Come join me on this journey at www.eyesofyourheart.com beginning September 16th.

Once again, thank you for giving us the opportunity to come into your homes and lives.

I’ll let Paul’s final words in the book of Colossians be my send-off to you:

May God’s grace be with you. Col 4:19 (NLT)

Here are a few snippets from last week:

• I took my kids to a park, forgetting that teens from the nearby high school spend their lunch break there and fill the air with profanities.  Hours later, my four-year-old son shot off a round of expletives that had never before left his mouth.
• I met up with a friend for a short while, then gave her a hug when we had to go our separate ways.  I could smell her sweet perfume on my clothing the rest of the day.
• I served green beans with dinner.  Rather than hearing my daughter scream in protest like normal, she grabbed the salt shaker, sprinkled some on, then reminded me that she now likes this vegetable thanks to watching a friend put a little spice on it.

What do these three occurrences have in common?  They all remind me that people rub off on us, whether they’re aware of it or not.  There’s no way the teens in the park could have known that their choice of words would influence my young son’s vocabulary.  They simply talked as they normally did, thereby causing Gabe to talk in a way contrary to his normal speech.  My friend couldn’t have guessed that she’d cause me to smell like her perfume, nor could Micayla’s friend imagine that my daughter would become excited over the vegetable that just last month she protested.

Accidental rubbing off.  If people can rub off on us so quickly, I can only imagine we do the same to others.  Questions is, what do we want to rub off onto others?  Griping and complaining, or praise and adoration.

Let your conversation be gracious and attractive? so that you will have the right response for everyone.” (Colossians 4:6,NLT)

“Can I take you out for coffee soon?” I asked a friend recently.

“Um, sure,” she responded, caught off guard that I came up to her as her Bible study group was leaving the room.  I knew the timing was bad, but truth be told, I was desperate.  Lola is known for praying and I urgently needed another person to help pray me through a series of trials and challenges.

Lola is one of many people I cherish in my life that pray.  I mean pray.  They don’t necessarily use nice, flowery clichés or words so big I need to be armed with a dictionary.  I’m talking about talking, to their Father.  Regularly.  They just can’t help but talk to Him.  He’s their Daddy after all and their hearts grow void and desolate if they go too long without chatting a bit with Him or just sitting to listen to what He has to say.

Colossians 4:2 says, “Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.” 

I’m grateful to be surrounded by such incredible people who devote themselves to prayer.  They inspire me to do the same, but mostly I’m challenged to do so because I’ve seen the tremendous, unspeakable effects of prayer.  Revelations 5:8 talks about the “golden bowls filled with incense, which are the prayers of the saints.”  Let’s devote ourselves to filling those bowls.

I love being a woman.  I’m not joining the feminist movement, I’m just saying there are certain things about our sex I love, like being able to call up a friend no matter the reason, pour out my feelings and know she’ll love me just the same the next day.  I love the way God designed us to nurture and protect, and most days I even love needing to voice more words than our male counterparts.

For as much as I love each of these things, there is something beyond each of these roles that I once resisted, yet now find peace and comfort in.

Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.”  Colossians 3:18

Whew, you’re still with me.  I feared many would stop right there.  Before we get upset over what might seem to be the backwardness of needing to submit to another, hear me out long enough to relish the great freedom it offers us.

I’m a type-A go-getter.  I get a goal in sight and I don’t let up.  I’m known to control and overtake things.  Bad combination when married to a sweet, quiet man.  Early in our marriage I thought his lack of voice meant I should step up and take over more things (aka, I ran the house and then resented him for it).  Somehow God led me to see the beauty in His design of marriage, including the plan that I step back and allow my husband to take his rightful place as head of the house.

What happened continues to baffle me.  Instead of watching the things I worked so hard to create collapse, my husband took over and did a better job than I ever could have.  He took his position as spiritual leader more seriously and became more concerned about making sure there really was enough money for the month.  And in the process, he allowed me to step into a role that God created for me, part of which is encouraging and supporting this incredible man I’ve been blessed with.  I no longer have to fight to spur him to action, I just watch him take the reigns and enjoy the beautiful by-products as peace and love flourish in our house like never before.

I won’t pretend its always easy or painless, but I will say its so worth the effort.  So what do you say?  Are you in?

Like most eight year olds, my daughter is motivated if she knows a prize is at stake.  “Hey, look.” I told her a few weeks back.  “Your Sunday school paper says you’ll get something if you learn your memory verse.”  She was hooked and committed the verse to memory within a few seconds.  But I know her.  She can look at a sentence for two minutes and remember it—at least for the next hour.  So I started quizzing her throughout the upcoming days.

“What’s your verse say?”

“Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  Colossians 3:13,” she’d cheerfully quip.  

But soon something changed.  Someone asked me for a favor and I wasn’t able to oblige.  They turned ugly and hateful, calling me names I forgot existed and even used Scripture to prove why I was such a wretched person in their book.  As my inbox flooded with insults, I became angry, depressed and resentful.  Then my little girl bounded into my lap and chanted:

“Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”

Ouch.

I, too, have thrown temper tantrums for not getting my way—except mine were directed at the Almighty.  I’ve acted like I don’t need a Savior.  I’ve claimed parts of the Bible that bring me peace while ignoring the commands that are too challenging.  I’ve done—and do—so much requiring forgiveness.  And I have received it. 

“Micayla, tell me your verse again please.”  This time I asked not to test her, but to convict myself.  I breathed in deeply as my heart said the words along with her.

“Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” Colossians 3:13

My son, Gabe, just had a spring concert at his preschool.  I zoomed my camera in on him, clicking away as he sometimes sang but mostly just did the actions to the songs.  I watched with great enjoyment, savoring my son’s moment in the spotlight.

His moment.  Or so I thought.  It wasn’t until the singing was over that I realized there were 150 other kids on the stage with him.  One of them probably flipped her dress over her head.  Another most likely picked his nose, while others waved violently at their parents.  But I didn’t catch any of that.  I saw only one child in that performance: mine.

I didn’t mean to look just at Gabe.  It’s just that I love him so much I ended up being transfixed on him.  Sounds a bit like our lives, doesn’t it?  What do we cherish the most?  Where will our gaze fall? 

Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven, where Christ sits in the place of honor at God’s right hand.”  Col. 3:1, NLT, emphasis mine

I can’t think of a better place to fix my gaze.

I’ll gladly sport my red, white and blue on the 4th of July, but there are many other days of the year that I take my freedom for granted.  It isn’t until a neighbor returns from a tour overseas or a friend kisses her son goodbye as he heads to Iraq that I remember the cost others have paid for my freedom.  Regardless of our nationality, there is a freedom available to all who follow Christ, but Paul warns us that we can forfeit this liberty.

See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ.” Colossians 2:8

Captivity, all because of another’s words or human tradition.  It’s the last thing I want in my life, yet God is revealing the extent to which my culture permeates my faith rather than the other way around.  So what are you and I to do?  Go back to our roots.  Colossians 2:6,7 say, “So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.”

Am I willing to live all my life in Christ, or will I sacrifice the parts that are convenient to me and overlook the commands that are too challenging?  Does my heart show a desire to weed out the false beliefs that have infiltrated my life and instead be rooted in the One True God?  I’ll use the convicting words of David Platt’s book Radical to magnify this point in just one area of my life.  “Are you and I looking to Jesus for advice that seems fiscally responsible according to the standards of the world around us?  Or are we looking to Jesus for total leadership in our lives, even if that means going against everything our affluent culture and maybe even our affluent religious neighbors might tell us to do?” (page 121). 

I’m scared my honest answer would demonstrate a Col. 2:8 life, rather than one exemplifying Col. 2:6,7.  How about you?

“I just don’t know what to do,” I complained to my friend, telling how one person known for starting me on the crazy cycle was acting up again.  “It’s making me go cuckoo.”  Silence.  Agh!  The madness of having a smart phone that is always smart and only sometimes a working phone.  I put the device down, frustrated and consumed by my overwhelming problems.

The next morning, I picked up a copy of the Voice of the Martyrs, where I learned of a young woman’s plight.  Asia Bibi shared the love of Christ with fellow Pakistani workers.  The message cost her everything.  Imprisoned for blasphemy, she no longer enjoys the comforts of home, the sweet embrace of her husband, or the uplifting laughter of their children.  Instead, she sits in a jail cell, hoping her death sentence will be overturned. 

Now I rejoice in what I am suffering for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church. I have become its servant by the commission God gave me to present to you the word of God in its fullness—the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the Lord’s people.”  Colossians 1:24-26

When I read these verses, I thought about writing on God’s purpose in suffering or His promise to work all things together for good.  Then I remembered how enmeshed I became in problems this past week and weighed them against the true heartaches and desperation of those around the world who are imprisoned, tortured and killed for their faith. 

I can’t keep the tears from streaming down my cheeks as I think about the courage it took for a woman to share her faith in her small village.  I want to reach out to the other side of the world and say, “I will pray—pray for your family, pray for your freedom, pray for the message.”  If you want to join me in praying for and encouraging Asia or other imprisoned believers, go to http://www.prisoneralert.com/pprofiles/vp_prisoner_197_profile.html

My husband tried reconciling the checkbook yesterday.  He added the amounts of the checks that haven’t cleared and subtracted that from the total, but even still the amount he showed in our ledger didn’t match the bank’s balance.  He spent a good portion of the morning trying to get the two numbers to line up to no avail. 

The same is true in our relationship with God.  If attempt to reconcile ourselves to the perfect master of the universe, we will fall short.  We can try and try, but our efforts will be fruitless.  The gap is just too great.  But don’t despair.  Colossians 1:21, 22 says,

Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior.  But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation.”

Did you catch that?  God reconciles us.  That’s like my spouse going to the bank and telling the clerk that there is a $18,583 difference between the amount they show and our sum.  “Well, sir,” the teller says, “we can see where you erred, but we’ll go ahead and credit the difference to you anyways.”  I’d love for that to be the case, but of course it never will.  But with God it is entirely different.

God’s own son, Jesus Christ, came to Earth and remained sinless.  Jesus willingly went to the cross to take on our sin so we might be presented as holy, clean and free from accusation. 

My husband broke out into a happy dance when our checkbook finally matched the bank statement.  How much more should we celebrate that our very lives are  reconciled.

“Mom, I’m sorry,” my eight-year old daughter said.  “Don’t worry about it, we all make steaks,” I replied, mimicking my preschoolers cute, but inaccurate way of explaining that we make mistakes.  The offense was so small I can’t even remember it.  Perhaps it was from when she spilled a glass of water.  But despite the simplicity of the error, the apologies continued to flow out faster than the beverage from the cup.  “Mom, I’m really sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”  “I know, honey.  It’s okay.”  Two minutes later, she apologized yet again.  Not even thirty minutes passed before she sought yet another round of forgiveness for the same accident. 

Can you imagine feeling so bad over something that you keep asking time and again to be forgiven?  If you’re anything like me, you don’t have to imagine.  We’ve been there, kicking ourselves as we think “how did I ever let myself do that?”  Like a small child wanting to be in a right relationship with her parent, we keep begging our daddy for forgiveness, secretly believing we’re too undeserving of it. 

For he (God) has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”  Colossians 1:13,14, emphasis mine

The forgiveness of sins.  Plural.  Not just a one-time pass.  Not even limited to an hourly event.  As often as necessary.  We aren’t told only the minor offenses are forgiven, nor is our pardon based on the number of times we plead for it.  We aren’t part of this equation.  It is God and his Son.  They have chosen to forgive us.  Radical, huh?  So unthinkable that Jesus came to earth, purposefully knowing He would die to remove our sins.  There is no need to continue to act like a small child and beg over and over for the same offense.  Nor do we need to believe our actions are so grave they can never be forgiven.  Instead, we can accept the undeserving gift of God’s mercy and celebrate the great truth that in Him we have redemption, “even the forgiveness of sins.” (Col. 1:14, KJV)

Correction does much, but encouragement does more.

~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Writing letters is a dying craft.  Oftentimes I have great hopes of sending grandma a note to say hi, but unfortunately it happens less than I’d like.  Perhaps the same was true for Paul.  After all, he’d been shipwrecked, imprisoned and continued to tell everyone he could about the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ.  Maybe he’d wanted to drop the Colossians a line for a while and just hadn’t gotten around to it.  But once word got to him that the church was doing troublesome things, he made it a priority to pen them.

There were many pressing things he wanted to say, words of rebuke to help steer them back onto the right path, but you’d never guess it from the first few lines.    “We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you, because we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love you have for all God’s people” (Colossians 1:3, 4). 

Paul could have started by listing the things concerning him.  Maybe they would have listened and took his suggestions to heart or perhaps they would have become disgruntled and embittered, possibly even leaving the faith altogether.  He took a different route though, one that is frequently evidenced elsewhere in the Bible.  He starts by sincerely telling them of their importance to him and the high level of regard he held for them.  No pretentious compliments solely to prepare for the reprimands.  Just truthful, heartfelt praise.

I often do the opposite, especially when my anger clouds my vision to the things I most cherish about certain people.  Rather than diving in with my hurts and offenses, I’d do well to follow Paul’s example and start nice.

An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. “ Luke 2:9

What do you think it looked like, the glory of the Lord that is?  Imagine being a shepherd so many years ago.  What did the night sky look like once the angel of the Lord came?  I’ve come to liken it with bright, fluorescent lights after seeing so many Christmas pageants.  But perhaps it was so much more.  What if the light was bright and glittery or if it wasn’t a light at all, yet a combination of colors displayed like a magnificent rainbow?  Whatever the case, it was magnificent.  Awesome.  And terrifying. 

As we conclude our study of Philippians at this most marvelous time of year, I can think of no better verse to finish on than Phil. 4:20: “To our God and Father be glory for ever and ever. Amen.”  What if we took the images of glory we just conjured up and gave them back to God.  After all, the old cliché tells us it’s better to give than to receive.  Now of course I’m not saying that we can create a glory equal to that of God’s, nor do I believe our praises can fuel the glory of God.  But what if we incorporated glory into next year’s resolutions?  What if we determined to give our God and Father glory for ever and ever, or, for starters, every day of 2011?  What might that look like in our lives?  In the lives of our loved ones?  Even in the lives of people we don’t even know yet or maybe never will.  As I think about all of us praising God glory while talking to a cashier, dentist, colleague or anyone else, I’m left with only one word.

Glory.

Do-it-yourself books line the shelves, teaching “dummies” everything from picking a tagline to enhance an online dating profile to how to design a garden.  A friend quipped, “I might not know how to do something, but I can easily grab a book and learn.”

Come to find out the same is true of contentment.  In a time of year when that c-word is easily replaced by consumerism, we can go back to the how-to on contentment.  The trick?

For I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.”  Philippians 4:11, 12

The original word for “have learned” is just as it seems—to learn by use or practice; to be in the habit of.  Contentment, that elusive, often-forgotten Christian discipline, can be obtained through nothing more than practice.  As I flip through countless ads trying to find the perfect gifts for loved ones, the gimmes creep into my life.  I can continue adding to my wish list and find myself growing bitter over the realization that my wants exceed the means of those giving, or I can practice.  Just like sit-ups are especially painful at first, it is hard for my mouth to claim the truths of Psalm 23.  “The Lord is my shepherd. I lack nothing.  I shall not want.”  At times I want to throw in the towel and allow myself to be consumed by things rather than the one who says He is a consuming fire.  After all, it goes against most everything our culture teaches and its oh so hard.  But then I read the next verse of Philippians 4.  “I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”  I can.  And so can you.  Let’s learn together.

Not even my suburbia-bubble protects me from the effects of the global economic crisis.  One friend will lose her house to foreclosure this month, while another’s goes on the auction block in December.  Another friend works multiple jobs to feed the very ones she rarely gets to see.  The bank repossessed two friends’ cars, while a neighbor waits to see if he, too, will lose his house.

Times are tough.  And yet, we’re entering a season where we’re supposed to be thankful.  We typically stuff ourselves with turkey and fixins’, but the exquisite sides might be a bit out of our budget this year.  We can easily find ourselves feeling more like Scrooge than Tiny Tim.  And then we stumble across Philippians 4:4, which says, “Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!”

Rejoice?  Bah humbug.  That was easy for Paul to write.  After all, he was called by God and had his blessing upon him.  He had a nice, easy life.  Right?  Wrong.  These words were penned while Paul sat in prison, incarcerated solely for his faith in the true and living God.  Despite his chains, Paul commends us to rejoice in the Lord, just as he did.  Always.  Not after the bank approves the loan modification or when the test results come back negative.  Always.

This year, instead of just saying what we’re thankful for, let’s also remember to say who we’re thankful to.

“In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name.” Psalm 33:21, emphasis mine

You can trap a bear simply by putting something of interest in a box where the opening is the size of the bear’s paw.  Once it grabs the item, the bear’s fist no longer will fit through the opening and the large animal is now captive.  Paul writes of his tendency to do the same:

The very credentials these people are waving around as something special, I’m tearing up and throwing out with the trash—along with everything else I used to take credit for. And why? Because of Christ. Yes, all the things I once thought were so important are gone from my life. Compared to the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus as my Master, firsthand, everything I once thought I had going for me is insignificant—dog dung. I’ve dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ and be embraced by him. I didn’t want some petty, inferior brand of righteousness that comes from keeping a list of rules when I could get the robust kind that comes from trusting Christ—God’s righteousness.”  Philippians 3:7-9, The Message

Don’t you just love his graphic description?  Paul is basically saying he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but instead of a relishing the sweets, he realized it was nothing more than dog dung.  Why?  Because it kept him from the one thing he wanted more than anything else: to embrace Christ and be embraced by him. 

My three-year-old gives the best hugs.  He’ll start fifty yards away, yell out, “big hug!” then come bolting in my direction.  I drop everything as he comes barreling towards me and prepare for his embrace.  Within seconds, he nearly knocks me over as his body quickly gets enveloped in mine.  I savor those hugs.  They are so worth dropping everything for.

If that is what a hug from my little beast is like, can you imagine what it’d be like to be embraced by Christ?  Tears trickle down my cheeks at the mere thought.   I think I’ll drop some dog dung in preparation.  How about you?