Faith That Can Move Molehills

Imagine faith as small as a mustard seed. What does it look like when it moves mountains? Can it move molehills too? Yes, for while nothing is too great for God's power, nothing is too small for His care. He is abundantly gracious. When we make mountains out of molehills, and then almost despair, he is still there to strengthen puny faith.

It's late winter. I've been inside a lot with three children, and being fond of neatness and order, the grand propensity of small ones to destroy all things visible can drive me a little bit batty. That's not a real trial, right? I mean, on my dresser, I have the Smyrna ministries prayer guide, where I'm reminded to pray for families who are without home and job because of their faith, or who are left to mourn their brutally beheaded loved ones. There is heart-wrenching agony going on in God's worldwide family. So I feel that a bit petty becoming downcast over the fact that the kid's bathroom is being systematically broken to pieces, splattered with mud, and water-damaged, and my top-load washing machine seems unendingly filled with wet mess clean up towels. With the crowning event of the six year old crashing down on the toilet tank while standing on the seat to wipe up the toothpaste he just flung on the wall, and acquiring a knot on his head and splitting the tank from top to bottom - meaning that the kids will now have to share our relatively pristine master bathroom (Nooo!) until theirs can be repaired - I became just a little despondent. It wasn't just the mess, it was the money. Every family with kids usually has a back list of extras they'd like to have when they can save up. Shelling out the stash for a new toilet that you didn't really want is deflating. Still, I was making a mountain out of a molehill. It becomes easy to do when you're in a small house with small people most of the time. But God is not limited by that.

I sat down at the desk in a random quiet moment while the children were playing, and flipped open the Bible, like a hungry person hunting in the pantry between meals. The Parable of the Ten Virgins. "...Watch, therefore, for you know nether the day nor the hour" (Matt. 25:13) Here is reality in its final state. Here was truth beyond the broken toilet. I thought about the horror of being told to depart from Jesus, and the joy of entering with him into the marriage feast. Imagine Him coming at any moment, any second. The sky outside the window was the blank white-grey of cheerless winter. But at any moment the Son of God whom we have long loved unseen, could be breaking through those clouds like lightning and changing reality forever. The devastated bathroom, stained carpet and leaky budget wouldn't matter anymore. All that would matter is that we had loved the Christ of God and been faithful to Him. My heart was flooded with joy - a joy that I felt I could not have had if the fretful state of things had not made me previously disillusioned with life. Was the Holy Spirit really filling me with joy in the midst of trials - when my trials were so silly? I knew he would do this for persecuted Christians, for people really suffering great pain, but somehow that he would use the mere disruption of my daily comforts as a step in the journey to fellowship with him was a marvelous surprise. I did not deserve this. I am too petty. But His grace is not like that. We never deserve it.

I return to this. My faith can move mountains because it is a tiny link to the massive, powerful joy that I belong to the returning King. If we don't get the toilet fixed before He comes back, it's okay. Am I silly enough to need reminded of this? Yes. Is He gracious enough to come to me in the remembrance? He is.

In Another Bleak Midwinter

Is it truly mid-winter? I thought the 21st marked the beginning of winter, but it's lovely to think that we're almost halfway through the cold, dark tunnel. The holiday season is rarely one of natural joy for me, because the absence of warmth and sun usually bring fatigue and illness to our little family, and I struggle with the winter blues in real earnest. All the talk of hustle and bustle seem like a joke - I mean, we're just trying to stay alive here. I got my little coughing, fever patient to drink some water. I got the supper dishes washed, mostly, before crashing into bed and trying to nurse the baby to sleep. And somehow in the coming weeks we are supposed to visit all sorts of family with feasting and jollification.

I wonder if little Mary felt frustrated at the holiday travel required of her. I imagine her being a much more godly, submissive, patient person than I am, rather than putting up her feet and saying "Go to Bethlehem? On a donkey? Now? Um, no. I'm pregnant. I'm staying right here. Caesar is greedy and power hungry, but even he couldn't expect people like *me* to take part in the census." But she did the right thing and took her baby bump to the right place, and Jesus was born in the eternally destined location. God always knows what He's doing.

All this is just a bit of what I've been thinking about the things we don't like about Christmas being the things that are most nourishing to our faith and our vision of the Savior. I remember one Christmas season a couple years ago when I had the flu and was lying on the couch feeling crushed in pain and I looked over at the Nativity display we had set up, and whispered "Why, why did you come here? This miserable, broken place of pain. You didn't have to come. Oh, how you must love us." And another time as I looked at our Christmas gathering schedule that I was jotting into a notebook, and thought, "All this to do, to be with people, and I am too tired for any of it." That itself is a vivid picture of the first Christmas. Travel, people, bustle, exhaustion, and God getting his work done through ordinary people.

I saw this beautiful old quote from Ambleside Schools on Instagram that said it so well:

"The grass withers, the flower falls away, but the Word of our God endures for ever." As if Peter had said, 'All that has grown out of this root shall drop off in order that it may be seen how deeply the root itself is fixed in the soil.' We do not keep Christmas in the bright, sunny time of the year, but now in the heart of winter, when everything is bare and dry. And our Lord himself is said to be "a root out of a dry ground," from which all the blossoms of hope and joy are to come, but which must first be owned in its own nakedness before they shall appear. If then, men have begun to fancy that their gladness has another root than this, it is meet that for a time they should be left to try whether they can keep it alive by any efforts and skill of theirs. If Christmas joy has been separated from Christ, it is no wonder and no dishonor to Christ that it should grow feeble and hollow. But Christmas is not dead, because the mirth of those who have forgotten its meaning is dead. It is not dead for you, it is not dead for people who lie upon beds tormented with fevers, and dropsies, and cancers. It is not dead for the children in factories, and for the men who are working in mines, and for prisoners who never see the light of the sun. To all these the news, "The Word who was in the beginning with God and was God, in whom is life, and whose life is the light of men, by whom all things were made, and without whom was not anything made that was made, became flesh and dwelt among us, entered into our poverty, and suffering, and death," is just as mighty and cheering news now as it was when St. Peter first declared it to his countrymen at Pentecost. You want this truth, you cannot live or die without it. You have a right to it. By your baptism God hath given you a portion in him who was made flesh; by your suffering he is inviting you to claim that portion, to understand that it is indeed for you Christ lived and died."
from "Christmas Day" sermon, Frederick Maurice, M.A.

Let us embrace an ideal of the perfect Christmas as the one that makes us fall more in love with the incarnate Christ, whether it is in jollification or in quiet pain or grief. He has come for us. By faith He is ours to possess forever. Here is joy unceasing, consolation without end.

Carl Blechen - Landschaft im Winter bei Mondschein (1836)

A Vision of Christmas from Elizabeth Goudge

I've been trying to speed read a most delicious book - speed read because I bought it for a Christmas gift and I want to finish reading it first myself. (Books are the gift that keeps on giving!). The Scent of Water by Elizabeth Goudge, is, like all of Goudge's wonderful books that I've read, full of entrancing beauty and profound reflections on the human soul. This particular book deals with a unique aspect of humanity in the history and journals of Mary Lindsay, a woman who struggled with mental illness. I didn't expect this book to prepare me for Christmas (in anything except the hope of getting it read before Christmas comes) but I found this gem of a Christmas dream in the story's excerpt from Mary Lindsay's diary:

I heard the clock strike five and I thought, Soon it will be Christmas and I shan't be able to enjoy my first Christmas in my own home. I was very sorry for myself. I thought, I can't bear it. I was lying on stones and the walls were moving in...The walls moved in nearer and as they closed right around, trapping me, I screamed.

I don't suppose I really screamed. What had happened was that I had fallen asleep at last and drifted into nightmare. I was imprisoned in stone. I knew then what men suffered who are walled up alive. But I was able to think, and I thought, Shall I scream and beat against the wall or shall I keep my mouth shut and be still? I wanted to scream because it would have been the easier thing. But I didn't. And when I had been still for a little while I found myself slowly edging forward. There was a crack in the stone. The hardness pressed against me upon each side in a horrible way, as though trying to crush me, but I could edge forward through the crack. I went on scraping through and at last there was a glimmer of light. It came to my feet like a sword and I knew it had made the crack, a sword of fire, splitting the stone. And then the walls drew back slightly on either side of me, as though the light pushed them. I had a sense of conflict, as though the darkness reeled and staggered, resisting the light in an anguish of evil strength. It had a fearful power. But the light, that seemed such a small beam in comparison with that infinity of blackness, kept the channel open and I fled down it. There was room now to run. I ran and ran and came out into the light.

The Wonder of Christmas Love

Nearly every Advent season, I find, with almost incredulous surprise, that there is another layer of wonder, another beam of glory to see in the familiar story of the incarnation. Sometimes there are several lessons of love and beauty to learn in one season. Isn't that why we take more than a day to celebrate?

There was the glimpse I had of Christ's mighty condescension when I lay on the couch, shaking with fever and chills from one of those friendly seasonal flus, feeling as miserable as all get out, and I looked over at the nativity scene on the shelf, nestled under the big, glad banner of "Joy to the world, the Lord has come!" All I could think in my illness was "Why did you come, Jesus?...It is just so bad down here. But you came..." Dirt. Disease. Discomfort. Death. Why did you do it, Jesus? How could you ever bring yourself to come? The answer was a glimpse of love far larger than I have ever felt in my own heart. So in the midst of the misery I saw the depth of his love and adored.

Adoration of the Magi
 Rembrandt

Then there is the story of the three wise men from the east. The line on a Christmas card - "We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him" has been turning over and over in my mind. Why did they do it? Was there a command, an injunction? Mary and Joseph would never have gone to Bethlehem if Caesar had not issued a decree. They were obligated, so they went, and through it prophecy was fulfilled. But these wise men - they are becoming a wonder to me. They heard news, an almost magical announcement of the birth of a King, and for them, the only reasonable option was to pack their bags and go, onward and onward until they could find and worship Him. It was as if to worship the King sent from Heaven was the consummation of all their life's work and all their heart's desire. We take for granted the story that they went. But they went. Not the twenty minute drive to church, but the twenty month march over the desert. They knew, like we forget, that to worship the Divinity is the highest joy and privilege of human existence.

This season, the lessons I have been learning perhaps reflect my weariness as a mother of little ones, longing for peace and quiet, and for those moments when I needn't be bothered. These are riches to me these days, and so I was able to see in the Christmas story, the sacrifice of these things as beautiful. Love is a willingness to be bothered, perhaps infinitely bothered. Jesus loved us, and so He bothered to come and lay down all comfortable things for us. The wise men loved Jesus, and so they bothered to leave home to behold Him and adore. This love makes Christmas beautiful. This love thrills my heart and calls me to run onward in the path of love with Jesus, who has come to us, to never, ever leave.

Let Thy love, my soul’s chief treasure,

Love’s pure flame within me raise;

And, since words can never measure,

Let my life show forth Thy praise.

~ Francis Scott Key

To Stand Before the Son of Man

Yesterday I was gripped by these words of Jesus in the gospel of Luke:

"But watch yourselves lest your hearts be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and cares of this life, and that day come upon you suddenly like a trap. For it will come upon all who dwell on the face of the whole earth. But stay awake at all times, praying that you may have strength to escape all these things that are going to take place, and to stand before the Son of Man." 

(Luk 21:34-36, ESV)

This morning, I could hardly go on to other study without returning to the chapter again and writing out my thoughts on it:

Have I been watching myself with a view to staying awake spiritually? If I am consumed with the cares of this life - however pressing the duties of wife and mother may be - and am not mindful of the coming of the Son of Man, I am living as one asleep. Times of upheaval, trial and persecution have come upon God's people often and again since the last days began, and they may come upon us again, even soon without warning, and perhaps many times, before His return.

Whether it be the last day of all, or only one of the birth pangs preceding it, I know that in myself I have not the strength to face it. In my human nature, I want to live on in comfort, eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage our children, our grandchildren, nestled in comfortable homes, friends with all and enjoying business and leisure from day to day. If this should be interrupted by an evil day, and I must follow Christ into the fire of men's hatred and the destruction of my comforts, how will I stand? Here is Christ's command: Watch and pray that you may have strength to escape all these things and stand before the Son of Man. Surely He would not direct us to such a prayer unless He intended to answer it. He does not call me to worry that something bad might happen, only to watch my soul and pray for strength to endure and escape all that may come to me before I enter His presence.

Today is a day of home and shelter, food and family. Tomorrow may be fire and sword, the hatred of all mankind and exclusion from society. Let my goal be not to have the blessings of today at any cost, but to escape with my faith intact, to endure to the end, to realize the salvation of my soul and stand before the Son of Man at the end. Then let me ask Him for this - not only for myself but for the next generation, upon whom the evil day may come more strongly than my mother's heart could ever believe. Let me be instructing my children not only in eating and working, in speech and play, but in the teaching of Jesus Christ and their need to know and be found in Him before that great day. May they together with us have strength to escape and to stand before the Son of Man at last.

Sweet Subduing

At some time, every wife will find herself facing the divine command to submit to her husband in battle with her desire for mastery. A certain bitterness presents itself to us in surrendering the sweetness of having our own way. But submission is sweeter still. For we have in wifely submission not only the consciousness of harmony with our Maker's design, but a better satisfaction of our desire for mastery.

In submission, we relinquish mastery of a man for the mastery of our own rebellious will, and the sense of control over self that may be ours when we yield control is a more rightful sweetness for our heart. Only our obedience must be by the power of Him who said "Not my will, but Thine be done." He has bowed lower than we ever shall, has overcome all, and is now exalted to bestow on us His Spirit. All that the crucified and exalted Christ calls us to do shall be possible, even now, even today.

"And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, 

giving thanks to God the Father through him. 

Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord."

- Colossians 3:17-18 ESV

That They May Come

"Ah ! it is such a thrice blessed thing to have a praying mother; a mother who does not merely say in set form 'and speech. " Go to Christ, my child," but in her daily life, full of sweet experience of all that is involved in it, says, " Come to Him !"" 

-  The Percys by Elizabeth Prentiss, 

Let it be so with me.

(Read the little-known gem, The Percys by Elizabeth Prentiss here . Both parents and children will gain riches from this delightful and edifying family story by the author of Stepping Heavenward.)

So Helped

This morning, I was told of my true condition, and found in it nothing but cause for joy.

"Likewise, the Spirit helps us in our weakness.
      Believer, never was any creature so weak as you
For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words
      but never was any creature so helped as you.
And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, for the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.
      and never was any creature so prayed for as you.
And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose
      Never was any creature so loved as you
For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.
      and never had any creature such a sweet destiny as yours
And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified, he also glorified."
    Believer, never was any creature so secure as you.

Romans 8:26-30, ESV

Do you remember this, believer -  that you are so helped, prayed for, loved, and secured by Jesus Christ? Sometimes in my weakness I forget, and sometimes the first help He sends is causing me to simply remember. Never was any creature so helped as I.

Rejoicing Always is Always Hard

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice."

 ~ Philippians 4:4, ESV

There is no time when the command to rejoice in the Lord is easy to obey. It is hard on bad days. It is harder on good days. But I have heard words like these many times:

"It is easy to rejoice in the Lord when things are going well, but when times are hard, we are tempted to lose our joy."

I have never found that statement to be true. I am constantly tempted to rejoice in everything but the Lord, and were it not for grace, would have hardly a moment in which to claim that I had been resting wholly and sweetly upon the "solid joys and lasting treasure none but Zion's children know."

Recently, I had a good day - one of those days when everything actually does go right. I was pretty happy with the day and my life in general as I walked out in the park that afternoon. But as I reviewed a piece of Scripture memory, I was convicted by the Holy Spirit of my failure to rejoice in the true goodness of the Lord.
Good days, if our hearts are right, are to help us rejoice in the Lord - thankful that He has given us a spot of brightness on our heavenly journey. But most of the time, we let them do just the opposite. We forget that we are journeying to heaven at all. We say, "God is sooo good!" simply because He has given me the stuff I wanted. If our good days are the base of our declaration of God's goodness, that declaration has a dark meaning underneath: that when God doesn't give me the stuff I wanted - when He just holds before me the promised inheritance of the resurrected Christ, while ripping from my hands everything else my life holds dear - He is actually not very good at all. This is not rejoicing in the Lord. To rejoice in the Lord is to put the conditions for our joy upon Him, and then, knowing that He does not change, to never cease to be glad.

Foolish children that we are - rejoicing in the Lord is hard on the best of days. Sometimes the rejoicing is easiest on the worst of days, when the sadness and failure of everything that frustrates makes the hope of the resurrection stand forth like a warm, bright lamp in a window on a cold, wet night. But we must not let a fortuitous flash light turn us from the light in the window. There is one solid foundation for unshakable joys: the crucified and risen Christ held in the arms of our faith, taking us to Heaven.

"So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you." ~ John 16:22 ESV

The Soul's Great Treasure

"Nor height nor depth nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." - Romans 8:39, ESV

"The love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord". Here is everything to make my heart glad. Indeed, I am not safe being glad in anything apart from this.

Am I glad in a person who is dear to me? Let it be only because they are given to me by the "the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord". For if that loved one should be taken from me, I will be comfortless unless I have been assured that "the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" remains to be mine.

Am I glad in financial security? Let it be only be that my comforts are provided for me by the God who loves me in Christ Jesus our Lord. For if I should come to be in financial distress, "the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" assures me that I am, in poverty or wealth today, an heir of Heaven's joys tomorrow.

Am I glad in the love of friends? Let it be only that they dimly reflect my highest prize of "the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord". For if they should turn to hate me or forsake me, "the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" remains to my soul as the ceaseless gift of my dearest Friend.

Am I glad in my spiritual growth and holiness? Let me rejoice that it is a gift of "the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" and not my own cause of salvation. For if I should fall from this and sin and have need of repentance, "the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" remains to welcome me back as a changelessly-loved child.

The world and flesh and Satan would have me tie my heart around everything that is not enduring, everything that is liable to fail. And if I do, when that does fail, it will take my heart down with it, leaving me miserable. To be so firmly attached to anything perishing is perilous. Those who do not know God know this. The Buddhist philosophers know this, and counsel their followers to renounce all desires that they may feel no pain. This empty, self-renunciation, however, is powerless, because it cannot last beyond the grave.

Here is "the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" for His children. It burned brightly for them before time began, surrounds them ceaselessly all of their lives, and will carry them into the vastness of eternity, secure and happy. It is the hope that should get them out of bed in the morning, and the settled peace that should rest them quietly in bed at night. It is their sun above the dark clouds of earthly sorrow, and their anchor beneath the relentless waves of temptation. I must not live without the remembrance of my treasure, and when I remember, let me rejoice, for this most glorious possession can never be taken from me.

Weak Enough to Suffer Woe

"God clothed Himself in vile man's flesh, that so

He might be weak enough to suffer woe." 

~ John Donne 

When I read these words I instantly remembered a childhood and youth shot through with growing fear of pain. I had begun quite early to realize - through reading and observation - the trials life held for every human, felt them in my own body, and wished if I could have anything in all the world it would be the power to never feel sickness or pain. I remember distinctly wishing that a fairy or genie would come and offer me 'anything you wished in the world' - and I would request this freedom. I have since learned from Christ that this wish is not the most desirable nor is it attainable in this life, but when I read these words of Donne's, I was struck by that mighty lesson of the cross which I will never be done learning. Here is a most powerful weakness, more mighty, more beautiful than the healthy, happy bodies worshiped by the people of the world. Here is one who had the power that I had desired - to never experience sickness or pain, colds or cancer, poisoning or accidents - and He gave it all up, embraced the flesh that would make Him vulnerable to every suffering, and became by this, my Savior. I cannot merely love Him for this, I must have this love. This love saves me, but goes beyond that to teach me what it is to live. All that I once esteemed, turned on its head and made foolish by the love that embraced my dread.


"This is how we know what love is - Jesus Christ laid down His life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers" - 1 John 3:16


And the upside-down, beautiful life of sacrifice is not forever. It is just for a time in this upside down world, until one day all things are made right and we will go to share, with the Lamb who was slain, the reward of His suffering. But we must suffer with Him here, "be made like Him in His death", "suffer with Him that we may be glorified with Him". It is all worth it.

I think this is the one lesson that I will have to go on learning the rest of my life. The lesson of the cross. Let me be taught.

"God is the best Master.

'There is no God like thee, in heaven above, or on the earth beneath, who keepest covenant and mercy with thy servants...there hath not failed one word of all his good promise' (1 Kings 8:23,56)

In our wants, he relieves us,
in our weakness, he pities us...

He waits on his servants. Was there ever such a Master?
'...He shall gird himself, and make them sit down to meat, and will come forth and serve them' (Luke12:37)

When we are sick, he makes our bed:
'Thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness' (Ps 41:3)

He holds our head when we are fainting.

Other masters may forget their servants, and cast them off when they are old, but God will not: 'Thou art my servant: O Israel, thou shalt not be forgotten of me' (Isa. 44:21)

It is a slander to say, 'God is a hard Master'.

- Thomas Watson, The Godly Man's Picture

"Thanks to God for my Redeemer" - and before I could thank him for more, I saw that there are a million worlds of good bound up in this - this one lovely, majestic, mighty and merciful Person, without whom I would have no good thing.

Thanks to Him who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all, who surely will also with Him, freely give us all things.

Thanks to the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.

Thanks to the righteous Servant who makes me to be accounted righteous, bearing my iniquities.

Thanks to Him who is determined that I will not perish, who will pursue me with goodness and mercy all the days of my life, and will take me to dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Thanks to Him who stands at the door and knocks, wanting to come in and eat with me - him and me? yes - God and sinner - reconciled, eating food together. He is that gracious.

Oh, my Redeemer...enough for me.

"I say to the Lord, 'You are my Lord;
I have no good apart from you.'"
- Psalm 16:2, ESV

"Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you. "
- James 4:10, ESV

I can confess and bemoan my sinfulness without being humble. Self-examination that ends with the mournful declaration, 'I'm a terrible person' may not be true humility, because it can leave me more self-righteous than I was before. The goal of seeing my sin is, after realizing all that I am in my self, that I childlike, needy, trusting, run to Jesus and rejoice in Him as Savior.
After I have seen all of my failures, I must refuse to exult in the discerning depth of my self-awareness. Humility's final look is toward the Lord. To know my own weakness and wretchedness, and yet freely exult in a mighty and gracious Savior, is the most humble act of all.

"A smiling welcome"

"The Lord be praised for all His tender mercies and loving-kindnesses - unceasing and unwearying as His love. My continual shortcomings, and oftcoming for forgiveness again and again, does not exhaust Him. I should have wearied out the whole host of heaven before this ; but Jesus is never wearied with hearing the cries of His poor tried and tempted saints. Always are they welcome, and I think the oftener I go the more welcome I am. Not a frown upon that countenance towards one who really feels his need of Him. A smiling welcome, fraught with mighty blessings, which, while it gladdens the heart, fills the soul with a humbling sense of its own vileness, - humbled in self, exalted in Christ."
- Mary Winslow

A Dear Old Hymn

"I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content." - Philippians 4:11, ESV

Looking through an oldMoravian hymnal awhile ago, I found this 
lovely  'spiritual song', which encourages the believer to look from
the world to Christ. Later, I composed a tune to it (which I am not
technologically proficient enough to post)  but the words 
are the most precious part.

"Look Up My Soul To Christ"

Look up, my soul, to Christ thy joy,
With a believing mind ;
With all the ills which thee annoy,
The way to Jesus find :
Here in this world thou hast no home,
Nor lasting joy; to Jesus come,
He is the pearl of greatest price,
Who all thy wants supplies.

Steadfast in faith to Jesus cleave,
His faithfulness review,
And every burden with him leave,
Whose love is daily new :
His ways with thee are just and right,
He puts thy enemies to flight:
However threatening they appear,
Take courage, he is near.

Lift up thy heart to him on high,
And leave this sordid earth;
Behold, with a believing eye,
God's excellence and worth :
Devote thy life, thy all, to him,
Who did thy soul from death redeem,
In love to thee the cross endured,
And life for thee procured.

Arise, and seek the things above;
Let heaven be all thy aim,
Where Jesus dwells in bliss and love,
And earth, and sin, disclaim:
The world, and all its empty joy,
His potent breath will once destroy;
Abiding rest, and peace of mind,

In Christ alone we find.

Y. C. Schade, 1666-98,

My Christmas Gift

This year once again, our family decided to focus on sharing 'presentations' instead of presents - either in word or music. I decided to write a poem on the obedience of Christ, and I found both the writing and the reading of it very encouraging. I hope you find it so too.

Advent Poem - The Lawkeeper
When long ago all things that are
Came into life from what was not,
It was submission to command
Of nothing to the word of God.
Time, light-years, sunshine, moonlight, stars
Green ivy, chattering parakeets
Fruit-heavy trees and brilliant flowers
Fish swimming shimmering rivers deep
Were fueled by atoms that obeyed
That word commanding them to be
They lived as wisdom's pow'r displayed
In slavery that made them free.

The tawny lion, bounding bold
Through high fields thick with golden grain
Knew not that his strong frame obeyed
A law that pulsed through all his veins.
Yet he was bound by that one law
That sounded through the milky way
In silence, in the bubbling brook
"All things their Maker must obey"

And after the unknowing things
Had come to be, God made a man
To image him, in thought and will
To understand and love His plan.
Here was creation's shining crown
Who could articulate that law,
Obey, not thoughtless, but with love
And of His Maker stand in awe.
To man God spoke his wise commands
That man might do them willingly.
And if he would submit and live
By them, he would be truly free.

But, woe! To man a voice declared
Dark whispers of another way,
Emancipating happy slaves:
"Your Maker you need not obey"
And willing man believed the lie
That he could rise above that law
By which he lived and moved and breathed
Thus came his death; thus was his fall.

Fruit from a tree? How could it be
That eating should be so condemned?
That biting was a mortal strike
Against a law which must not end.
This strike sent wailing tremors through
The universe of living things
The law that made and blessed them had
Been broken by their God-sent king.

So all was cursed, and bruised and dark
Before this sad law-breaking king
Yet shone a light, for promised God
Another coming conquering king.

Man's race increased and toiled with sweat
To rule the world his sin had cursed
Some toiled with greater sin. Some found
With God, a grace that loved them first.
To Abraham God sweetly swore
To make of him a nation great
And many nations bless through one
Though he must for the promise wait.

The promised nation came to be
And burgeoned in the desert land
Where from a life of slavery they'd
Been freed by God-sent Moses' hand.

Might Moses be that mighty one
Who'd crush the head of God's vile foe?
And save God's people from the curse
Law-breaking men were doomed to know?
For through him God declared the law
Unto His people. But they spurned,
That law, and Moses disobeyed
God's orders when his anger burned.

Yet God preserved the rebel race
And brought them to his promised land
From enemies delivered them
With merciful and mighty hand.
He gave them priests to come before
His presence in law-breakers stead
With lambs and goats whose bleeding throats
For these law-breaking people bled.

Perhaps a priest in Aaron's line
Would overcome the rebel way
And keep God's law and crush with joy
The serpent in one sinless day.
But neither did this line bring hope -
Old Eli's priestly sons, depraved,
Were laws unto themselves, and broke
God's holy law without dismay.

'A king!' The chosen nation cried
'To fight our battles, save our land!'
But this king also disobeyed;
God took the kingdom from his hand.
Obedience, God then declared,
Better to him than sacrifice
Of lambs, or works of men whose hands
Did what was right in their own eyes.

Oh who could right the cursing wrongs
That blighted all the world with night
And bring God's smile again to men
Whose works did not give God delight?
Why would each one so love his own
Decisions over God's commands
Fools, blind with self-adoring pride
Destroying joy with their own hands.

A baby in a feeding trough
With tiny, empty, helpless hands
Come see this one, a faithful son
Who comes to keep the Lord's commands.
Where Adam rose in rebel pride
To disobey God's law and die
This one will stoop by humble choice
Obey God's law and lamb-like die.
This child's a king whose only crown
Is glorying to do that will
That ordered all the universe
And calls men to submission still.
This man obeys, for this man loves
His God, and God delights in Him
"This is my well-beloved Son
In whom I'm pleased - listen to Him!"
This child is God himself, who came
To do what man had failed to do
In God-created flesh, to keep
God's perfect law his whole life through.

Yet he must make amends for many
Sons of Adam and their sin
Thus take their curse of death and know
God's favor turned away from him.
God's favor turned? Oh surely not
Pure reason could assault God's son
But serpent-reason crushed, he prayed
"Father, not mine - Your will be done!"

"Who's hung upon a tree is cursed"
God's law declared in somber tone
So Jesus, took the deathly tree
To be a curse, for us atone.

Fruit from a tree? How can it be?
That one death should atone for sin?
That dying was obedience
Unto the law that must not end.
That death sent mighty tremors through
The universe of dying things
The law that killed and cursed them was
Accomplished by their God-sent king.
And justice rose, and made alive
This once-dead and law-keeping king
Who promises to come again
And set aright all sin-cursed things.

- Alyssa Colby - Christmas 2009

Fear Nothing

Fear nothing but the loss of that which is most dear to you.
Let nothing be so dear to you as Jesus' love.
Remember that this will never be taken from you.
Then, fear nothing.


"...nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."
- Romans 8:39, ESV

"I am more and more convinced that the personality of Jesus Christ is the truth, and anything about Him that does not lead to Him is not the truth." - Oswald Chambers

"I am the way, and the truth and the life..."
John 14:6

Only in union with Christ, God's beloved Son, can we be recipients of the love of God.

"From God, love flows out toward all the inhabitants of heaven. It flows out, in the first place, necessarily and infinitely, toward his only-begotten Son; being poured forth, without mixture, as to an object that is infinite, and so fully adequate to all the fullness of a love that is infinite."

- Jonathan Edwards