Maundy Thursday & Beyond

“The symbols under which Heaven is presented to us are (a) a dinner party, (b) a wedding, (c) a city, and (d) a concert. It would be grotesque to suppose that the guests or citizens or members of the choir didn’t know one another. And how can love of one another be commanded in this life if it is to be cut short at death?

Think of yourself just as a seed patiently waiting in the earth: waiting to come up a flower in the Gardener’s good time, up into the real world, the real waking. I suppose that our whole present life, looked back on from there, will seem only a drowsy half- waking. We are here in the land of dreams. But cock-crow is coming” (C. S. Lewis, The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Volume III).

Maundy Thursday is a good reminder of being in the not yet. On that day, all the hard and painful things still lay ahead. Jesus was getting closer to the cross. It was only a matter of waiting.

Sometimes, that waiting can seem like forever. In a sense, we’d almost prefer knowing the worst rather than not knowing at all. And for us, those old fleshly fears can creep up on us during the wait, adding to the anxiety.

But all this present suffering is temporary, just as the suffering of Jesus between Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. Jesus was able to endure all that because of the joy that was set before Him that came on the other side of Golgotha. So we also know that just beyond our pain is a greater joy. Just on the other side of suffering is eternal peace.

We wait just as Jesus waited, knowing that beyond the cross and death was an empty tomb and the resurrection. We wait with hope — not a wishful thinking kind of hope, but a rock-solid certainty kind. The victory has already been won.

Another God-wink Moment

I went for a walk this afternoon to check out some of the neighborhood Christmas decorations. It always helps me a little to get into the spirit of the season whenever I see a front yard all decked out with lights and inflatable Santas and snowmen and reindeer and other assorted characters.

Then I saw a little bird perched on a mailbox. Typically whenever I attempt to take a picture, the bird flies off just as I’m getting the camera app on my phone pulled up. But not this time.

This little bid waited until I snapped a couple of shots before it flew away, almost as if it was waiting on me to hurry up and take the stupid picture. That’s probably the first time something like that has ever happened to me (and quite possibly the last).

I think it was a bit of a God-wink moment, like a bit of serendipity or extra blessing in that small moment in time. It was a subtle reminder that all God’s promises are still good and true, and that if I feel like the world is headed in the wrong direction that I shouldn’t lose heart or give up on what God has already spoken. It will come to pass.

Maybe that’s me reading too much into a simple scenario. Maybe it was just me in the right place at the right time to capture an image. I think it was more. I think it was a God-wink.

New Year’s Rockin’ Eve? Maybe

image

So far, my mailbox isn’t exactly stuffed with invitations to parties and soirees for the end of the year. My phone isn’t blowing up with texts or messages or calls– or anything for that matter.

To borrow off the old TV western, “Have Chips and GPS. Will Travel.”

Likely, this will be a subdued year’s end. I’m not one for crazy shenanigans anyway. I prefer a few friends to a crowd any day. And I’d much rather be inside on a cold night like this anyway.

I’m currently accepting offers for New Year’s Eve 2014. Apparently, that beats waiting until the last minute like this year.

Here’s something to think about as you ring in 2014: “Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year”
(Ralph Waldo Emerson).

Now is the best day to be alive, to be thankful for being alive, and to live.

Don’t wait until 2014. Start now.

That’s all.

Oh, and happy new year!

Learning to wait

I am learning to wait well. And notice I didn’t say I am learning well. I am slowly and haltingly learning how to wait expectantly and confidently. To wait well is to make yourself ready for what your waiting for while you’re waiting for it. That’s what I mean.

I am learning to be still. I am learning to quiet my mind and take those anxious thoughts captive. I am learning that most of the mistakes I am so worried about aren’t nearly as big as I had played them up to be in my mind. Most of the people I had convinced myself were so very pissed at me weren’t even mad at me at all or even close to offended. That facebook friend is still my facebook friend, despite all my imaginary scenarios of doom and gloom and defriending.

I am learning to rest. I don’t mean taking naps, but I mean to take deep breaths and focus on Jesus, who promised that if I only come to Him, He will give me rest. I want rest like in Psalm 131:2: “I’ve kept my feet on the ground, I’ve cultivated a quiet heart. Like a baby content in its mother’s arms, my soul is a baby content.” If I call the Prince of Peace Lord, you’d think I’d be better at letting His peace rule my heart. But I’m learning.

I’m learning to keep hoping when hope seems so very past tense. Like the movie Miracle on 34th Street says, “Faith is believing when common sense tells you not to.” I’m learning to believe even when every single voice in my head is telling me to do anything– post something, fix something, pray something– but believe.

I am learning that every set back is a step up, every failure moves me forward, and every disaster has the hidden designs of the plan of God hidden underneath. Being willing to look and sound foolish is the best way to grow up and to grow in faith. In that case, I should be a mensa-like expert and growing up and growing in faith!

Let God take you through the School of Learning to Wait Well and Be Still and Rest. You will find once your ceaseless activities and programs stop, God can really start using you.

That’s what I’m learning.

Amen and amen.