Transitions

In the Bible, in the book of Job, that man of God laments: “Look, I go forward, but He is not there, and backward, but I cannot perceive Him; When He works on the left hand, I cannot behold Him; when He turns to the right hand, I cannot see Him. But He knows the way that I take; and when He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold. Job 23:8-10

My friend Donna writes so beautifully of those hard, messy transitions we go through...and the hope to expect something beautiful at the end. If you're going through a tough time, please go read her latest entry on her blog, Thoughts from Creek Crossing.

Challah Bread: The Pinch

In our small group, my husband led us in a study of OT feasts that he called “Portrait of the Messiah,” because the feasts reveal so much about Jesus. When we studied the Sabbath, I made Challah bread, and found it an especially spiritually moving experience. These are my musings from that day:

Challah is traditionally a richer bread, made with eggs. Two loaves are served, reminiscent of the Lord providing a double portion of manna in the desert, so that the Israelites wouldn’t have to gather it on the Sabbath. A portion of the dough is pinched off in dedication to the Lord after saying a blessing. Originally the command was from Numbers 15:20 to give a portion of bread to the priests, a portion dedicated to the Lord. Today the pinch is to be burned.

“Mom, what’s a pinch?” my kids asked…and I too wondered, how much do I give to the Lord? (I remember the widow of Zaraphath who baked the last of her bread and gave some to Elijah…)

The simple act of pinching off a piece to dedicate to God reaches far into the soul. It’s like giving a bit of my life to God. Maybe there’s something I need to do but don’t want to—but I can pinch off that bit of time and dedicate it to the Lord and do what He has asked—suddenly there is joy in the task. Suddenly there is holiness.

Dedicated—irretrievable. What do we think we’ll dedicate to the Lord and then take back in our time or our money or other gifts—they were not meant to be accessible to us again. A dedication cannot be taken back. It is no longer ours—it belongs to the Lord.

Peace. Wheat that I ground (and they would also have grown), and then mixed—and then let rest. Dough that I kneaded, the heel of my palm pressing into the spongy form until it springs back and glistens—and then let it rest. Then braided and formed—let it rest again. And finally baked—and then it rests. Bread is full of resting.

Vulnerability. As if I have pinched off something of me in that pinch, because I was there in the making of it—as was He. There is no bread without rain, without land, without strength, without fire...or without the mysterious seed that somehow grows and becomes something new. And there is no bread unless we harvest, process, mix, knead, form, bake. A physical connection with the workings of God. The part that I give is so small—and what He gives fills the stomach and the soul. And so we pray over the pinch and connect with Him again.

I thought, I hold the pinch in the palm of my hand, about the size of an olive. I control so little—just this one piece of dough. I realized how small I really am. Our lives, all of our needs, my kids spiritual lives, my husband’s health, everything—is in the palm of the Lord’s hand. And so we, who can do nothing, appeal to the Lord for strength, healing, wisdom. If we have the power to help someone or to affect anything in our lives, it is from the Lord.

I hold the fate of this one piece of dough. Treat it as holy—dedicated to the Lord. But it is just a small offering.

What else is in our hands? The ability to help another. Treat the opportunity and especially the person, as holy. Dedicate our time, our possessions, whatever portion we can give—to the Lord. Give thanks to the One who enables us to give. And remember His rest, His peace.

The Sabbath meal is served without knives (or a knife is covered if one is needed), because it is a day of peace. The braiding of the bread means you can break off a chunk easily—no cutting needed. Peace—for today we lay down our weapons of war, whether wars between countries or wars between individuals. The lion lies down with the lamb. There are no knives used in the baking of the bread. Swords are pounded into plowshares. Hatred, anger, malice, revenge—all put aside to let peace reign in our hearts and allow the Lord to heal the wounds and touch our hearts.

The bread of life—we pinch off a tiny piece in trust. We are giving our food—and He becomes to us the Bread of Life, our Sustainer, Healer, Provider—He becomes the food that sustains and the Eternal Food.

Give me Jesus

My husband's doctor is on a medical missions trip to the Dominican Republic, to a very poor area with no running water and no access to medical care. In one of his updates he wrote this:

"Visited a lady who has been bedridden for 17 years and asked if she needed anything. Her reply--'I have Jesus, I don't need anything else.' How humbling to see her faith."

Reminded me of this African-American Spiritual that Fernando Ortega updated, and thought I'd share.

When I rise...when I am alone...when I come to die, Give me Jesus.

Is it Too Much?

This morning the pastor asked what Abraham must have felt as a father when he was asked to sacrifice Isaac--the son he had waited 25 years for, his cherished, beloved son, the fulfillment of God's promise to him...I can't speak for Abraham, but my first thought was, "It's too much." Sometimes I think that about Dave's health too--it's too much, all that he has to go through, the loss of dreams and ability...

And then he asked how God the Father felt, when He gave up His beloved son for us. Was it too much? He didn't think so. And I was reminded again that the things we give up that are so painful at the time can be part of our worship of God, can be given up willingly rather than begrudgingly. We can be the victim, viewing everything as taken from us--or we can be the giver, saying, "Here are our lives. We are yours, God. Do with us as you will." Maybe we don't get to give the gift we wanted to give, but we are not denied the opportunity to share in the suffering of Christ if our lives are a living sacrifice, are an act of worship to One who is worthy of more than we could ever give. (See Romans 12:1-3).

And even in sacrifice, there is a great gift to us. God told Abraham, "Now I know that you fear God..." The word for know is not mere knowledge, but intimate, personal, relational knowing. He invites us in our sacrifice to know Him more, and in our testing, our relationship with Him is deepened...if we are willing.

Being Watchful

Last night I noticed that the kitchen garbage was empty. And I smiled to myself, because I knew my son had taken it out without being told. Duly noted, I hadn't mentioned it to my son, but he made sure to bring it up today. And it gave me such a great opportunity to affirm him. "I know you don't like me calling you a 'young man,' but it's a mark of becoming a man to see a need and take the initiative to take care of it without being told." He said, "thanks," in a way that let me know, maybe he didn't mind the "young man" status so much.

"The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down." Proverbs 14:1.

I think as mothers that we have to be watchful for opportunities like these. It's so easy to focus on the times kids don't do what they're told or that they have to be told...that we can miss the fact that they are young, growing persons who need to be affirmed, who need to see what it is to be a man or a woman, who need to be respected for their growth and not torn down for their failures. They need to know they can make us smile and make us proud.

My Dad Does Great Things With Me
by Zachary Marinello (age 6)  © 2003

Once before he married mommy, he was bitten by a deer tick. Then it gave him his Lyme disease.  Then when he married mommy, after 9 weeks and I was a baby, He played with me.  And now he tries to do great stuff.

He walks with me, and we went to the secret garden.  When we were in the secret garden, we saw a statue, and me and Anna climbed on it.  It was a dragon with a man standing on top of it.  It was just a statue, and me and Anna knew that.  Dad wondered who could tell about it, and we saw a rock with words on it, so we read it.  Then we saw a bridge.  There was no river, but it was a bridge anyway.  I went on it, and then we left.  Before we went to the secret garden, we played pretend tennis and then baseball.  Then we went mini-golfing.

And when he does great stuff with me, I feel so good with him that I feel he is without his Lyme disease.  But he is still having a painful day today and I know that.  And Daddy talks to his friends when he meets them at lunch.  If he stays home and gets a rest, he’ll get better and better, and his prescription will help him get better. God will help Daddy and he preached so people would know more and more about Jesus.  I love Dad.

When Zach wrote this, he was in first grade and his favorite subjects (that week) were history and math.  This was his first composition, and he chose the subject.  He liked Rescue Heroes, wrestling with his sister, and being read to.

Mom's note--Zach was born 8 years after we were married, not nine weeks!  Zach is a wonderful reminder that the most important things we do are those we do together.

See other Stories of Hope

Needful Grace

I think the older I grow, the more I learn to rest in God's grace, to trust in His sovereignty and timing. Not to say that I don't still go into my tizzies, I do that quite well! But...slowly, year by year, I'm learning to depend on Him, and that He sustains us and walks with us and abides with us. I like that word, abide, and the depth of His presence it brings to my mind.

This "Grace Gem" is from a few days ago (catching up on my emails!) but ministered to my heart. If you are empty and weak--then seek His fullness and strength. So often we want change, but we only sometimes get change. Sometimes He wants to give a deeper gift of Himself, one we often don't understand in the moment, one we want to rail against and reject--and yet, He continues to offer more of Himself in our times of need. Merry


NEEDFUL GRACE

(John MacDuff, "The Faithful Promiser")

"As your days--so shall your strength be." Deuteronomy 33:25

God does not give grace--until the hour of trial comes. But when it does come--the amount of grace, and the nature of the special grace required--is granted. My soul! do not dwell with painful apprehension on the future. Do not anticipate coming sorrows, or perplexing yourself with the grace needed for future emergencies. Tomorrow will bring its promised grace--along with tomorrow's trials.

God, wishing to keep His people humble, and dependent on Himself--does not give a stock of grace. He metes it out for every day's exigencies, that they may be constantly traveling between . . .
their own emptiness--and Christ's fullness;
their own weakness--and Christ's strength.

But when the exigency comes, you may safely trust an Almighty arm to bear you through!

Is there now some "thorn in the flesh" sent to lacerate you? You may have been entreating the Lord for its removal. Your prayer has, doubtless, been heard and answered; but not in the way, perhaps, either expected or desired by you. The "thorn" may still be left to goad, the trial may still be left to buffet; but "more grace" has been given to endure them! Oh! how often have His people thus been led to glory in their infirmities, and triumph in their afflictions--seeing that the power of Christ rests more abundantly upon them! The strength which the hour of trial brings--often makes the Christian wonder to himself!