Safe Landing

July 6, 2013: Asiana flight 214 made a crash-landing at the San Francisco airport. Two died and many were injured. Experts are investigating the cause, but it seems clear a connection with the pilots' failing to fully switch on the navigational landing controls may be at the heart of things.

Misunderstandings
It may look like I'm straying off-topic, but this morning my thoughts fell on an often pondered dilemma—why does wrong often look or feel so good and good seem sometimes so unexciting. It isn't always so and for some it isn't quite as strong a pull as for others. But why does the enemy seem so in favour of our having fun and being happy, and God seem so often against it?

My reading for this morning included this verse, which triggered all this:

The thief [Satan] comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. ~Jesus

Instead of the pitchforked, red, torturing creature of modern depiction, the enemy is described in the Bible as beautiful, an "angel of light," one of the greatest of angelic beings, but also one like a lion crouching to devour (us) his prey. So in summary, he can appear attractive but with your and my destruction as his aim.

(Authenticity test: the enemy has taken countless lives, but never once offered his own for you.)

James in his letter to the church wrote:

16Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers and sisters. 17Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.

Using Proper Navigation

And what does this have to do with an airline crash? 

In flight, I imagine there are many times an inexperienced pilot must feel tempted to doubt his navigational equipment. When entering storms or dark clouds, uncertainty must creep in about the direction or altitude. Should you follow your own feelings and instincts or trust the controls? It is even possible, as with flight 214, to believe you are trusting the controls only to discover in a fiery crash that you never fully switched them on.

Landing the Plane

Doing what feels good or makes us happy is like ignoring the navigational system and choosing to fly on our instincts. The cost is greater than what affects you or me. The hurt jars many who depend on us. 

James knew how deceptive feelings are when he reminded his people not to be "deceived." Real and lasting good is from our Father, who does not change with modern ideas and fades. He truly desires what is for our best (that we may have "full" life), but we must trust His navigation of our way Home even when it doesn't feel right. Trusting anything else will lead to wounds, separation, destruction and loss.

Let's daily check who is in control.

How Are You?

There’s an art in sharing oneself.

I've discovered in most friendships that it is much easier to listen and to ask questions than to share (unless it’s trite facts). I find I feel a little smug when I’ve finished an hour and a half conversation with someone that is all about them.

Then a thought dawns on me. What if when I stand before God expecting praise for my listening ability, He looks sadly at me and asks why I was so stingy with myself?

Ninety or more percent of those I talk to actually don’t want to know any details of my life. I’m sure you’ve found that too. You begin to share something on your heart or answer their question about how you are when you notice they have mentally vacated the premises. Or you share something troubling you and they have an over-simplified, patronising solution that you’ve never found to work. Or you are told that how you feel is not a valid feeling, so you leave feeling worse than when you’d arrived.

I have a friend who I help with vacuuming once a month. The best part is sitting down with her after it’s over. I’ve shared my broken heart with her, and she empathised. I've poured out frustrations, and she sides with me. She doesn’t have pat answers. She doesn’t over-spiritualize. She just cares about me. Throughout our time, she also shares—she tells me of her struggle with grief over her mother’s death and the holidays coming. She has shared her couple-decade-old-hopes that never became reality. She listens and she shares. It’s a rare gift. I treasure those moments.

It seems easier to share with some I’ve never met. It’s often easier to think things through in e-mails and remember to ask things of which you may or may not be interested, because it’s staring at you in black and white. When you’re face to face, though, what you ask or what you share is what is most prominent on your heart or mind.

It’s safer not to share. Rejection, of any kind, pierces deep. 

Do you find it easy to share yourself with others? Why or why not? Who do you have to listen to your hopes and dreams and to trust you with their own?

Onions?

Whenever I work in the kitchen, at least one of my two cats figures there must be something good just out of reach. Last night as I cut up onions, Chiara (the cat above) wandered around my feet, crying. Often the only way to quiet her is to let her smell what I'm cutting up.

It reminded me of myself. And all of us. How many times do we cry out to God telling Him what we need, demanding the meat we know He's hiding just out of reach? Why can't I have that promotion? Why can't I get out of this marriage and into a happy one? Why can't this circumstance change to what I've imagined? Is God being stingy or is He cutting onions?

When I do have something good for my cat, I find it humorous that she feels the need to cry till I give it to her. How would she ever know the good available, if I had not given it to her in the past?

We also only know of good gifts because of what God has given to us before. Why then do we cry out in unbelief, I wonder, so sure that this time He'll be mean? All we know of good has come from God.

God tells us to pray and keep on praying. But, at the back of our prayers is the belief that even if it isn't the "food" we crave, it may be something new and altogether better.

The next time we ask for what we think would be best, I hope you and I both can remember, it may be just onions. With onions come tears. So, let's trust and wait for the good God is preparing.

In Search of Eden

I have often pondered the concept of all humanity being "exiled from Eden," after reading the phrase coined by C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. It came up again in our team devotions at work.

One of my co-workers' pastors had shared with his church the five securities for which all humanity searches since being kicked out of the garden.

1. Security of provision
2. Security of health
3. Security in our relationship to God
4. Security in our relationships with each other
5. Security with nature

Most people long for a utopia on earth. If world peace could be won and poverty destroyed, if we had better healthcare, if we followed what our "Higher Power" desired, if we tolerated everyone's differences, if every nation conserved on energy and natural resources, then happiness and security would still the restless ache inside us.

A post by Paul David Tripp stirred up these thoughts and discussion. The whole article (Thinking Biblically About Worry) is worth the read, but he gives a good picture of the biblical solution to our earthly longings for Eden.

"I am deeply persuaded that real, lasting personal rest of heart is never to be found in ease of circumstances. Even in the best of situations in this fallen world your heart will be able to find reasons for worry. Inner rest of soul and lasting peace of heart are only ever found when Jesus and His kingdom are your highest and deepest treasures. When you place your identity in His never-changing hands, when you find your meaning and purpose in the unstoppable work of His kingdom, and when you place your inner sense of well-being on the sure foundation of His promise to meet your every need, you will be able to rest even when the situations and relationships around you are broken."

As the John Newton wrote, "The earth shall soon dissolve like snow, The sun forbear to shine; But God, who called me here below, Will be forever mine."

Our only security on earth is in Jesus, the One who is coming soon to take His family to a far better Eden. Will you be there?

What is your worth?

I love to watch sparrows. They hide in the bush outside my front window and set my cats to cackling. They fight over feed in my backyard, little comprehending the strength their unity could have against the bully blue jays and starlings.

Months back, I heard a thud at my front door and saw a hawk fly away. Peering from the window, I saw a motionless feathered bundle. It didn't take long to realize life had left my poor little friend.

Have you ever held a sparrow? Yes, they may be common, but they are beautifully designed. Death is part of life, and yet it still seems so unnatural when death masks a face that moments before life animated.

My heart grieved for the loss of life and beauty, but a comfort came remembering Jesus words in Matthew 10:29-31.

"Aren't two sparrows sold for a penny? Not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father's permission. Every hair on your head has been counted. Don't be afraid! You are worth more than many sparrows."

God also grieves the necessity of death that sin brought into the world. Yet it does not happen haphazard. God is still in control, and, what's even greater, He cares what happens to you and me. He knows us so intimately that He has numbered every hair on our heads.

If you've grown up hearing this, it may sound cliche'. But think about it. Who else loves you that much?

Next time you see a sparrow, remember: God is watching over you in love, and you can trust Him with your life, because He holds it.

Spiritual Lessons from My Cat

My cat, Chiara, just turned ten this year. Throughout her life, I have contemplated some of the interesting things she's taught me about myself and my walk with God. Two lessons come to mind now.

While Chiara was young, I had her spayed and declawed. She, of course, could not understand why I was taking her and leaving her at that scary, strange place full of pain and dangerous smells. I assured her it would be alright. When I picked her up the next day, she was a bit sick, but very affectionate.

As I thought about how horrible it must have seemed that I caused this pain by bringing her there, and then her sweet acceptance and trust of me after, I thought about my own reaction to trials. I doubt I often accept them, at least at first, with such trust in the righteous wisdom of my Master. Instinctively, I think I'm getting a bum rap. Then I remember exactly who I am and who He is; although, my emotions take longer to bring into check. How wonderful it would be if I could trust His hand as He places me in surgery. And, as I heal, praise Him for His goodness, even though I may not know the reason for the pain.

Also in Chiara's young life, I had a couple occasions where I lost my temper with her. She is a very vocal cat. Sleeping and driving were the times she tried my patience and found them wanting. I yelled at her and picked her up. She cowered. I still feel sick when I jokingly say something to her in a tone that she takes as angry, and she flinches. What amazes me, though, is how she trusts me still. She would allow me to do most anything with her. She greets me at the door when I come home, follows me around the house, brings me her toys to throw, sleeps with me, and wants to always be near me.

Although a vastly imperfect analogy, her forgiveness reminds me both of God's forgiveness and the kind of forgiveness we are told to give. Although lashed out at, misunderstood, misrepresented, etc., when we seek His forgiveness, God does not keep bringing up our past. He is eager to forgive the truly repentant. Not just forgive, but He trusts us again, as we follow Him, with His Word and His testimony. Then, He asks us to give the same forgiveness to each other.

If you have fallen, don't stay there. Confess your sins to God and leave them with Him. If someone has hurt you, remember the sins God could list to your account, but instead He forgave. If you're going through a painful time, trust God that the surgery is necessary and for your good, even if you don't ever know why.

God and Life

At the end of the book of Job, God addresses the questions raised about justice and Himself. Interestingly, He doesn't explain why horrible things happened to Job; He doesn't even comfort him. God merely points to His own intimate knowledge and control of every aspect of creation; then He asks Job if he considers Him injustice.

Many have analyzed this story. Many theories have been written about why God responds to these five people the way He does. The thing most striking to me, however, was how God held them accountable for what they said and did after they were confronted by Him. Not that He didn't care what went on before, but a change of heart in every one of them is what He sought. Only Job responded with spontaneous confession when his focus was changed from himself to God.

Many suffer all over the world every second of every day. We may ask why, but until it is our community, our friend, our loved one, we don't often ask with passion. When pain hits home, that is when questions often change from why suffering to who is God and is He someone I want to know? "We receive His blessings and know His word, but do we know Him?" author Oswald Chambers questions.

One of the greatest fears of my adult life has been the fear of grief. I have had a comfortable life, and yet have experienced occasions of internal pain, grief that felt like it would suffocate me, sorrow that felt so heavy that death was more welcome than living that way. Thankfully, the grief did not remain so intense, either because it was not tied to anything tangible or because the sorrow came over time in different ways. Some grief is like chronic pain; it is possible to go through a day or longer unaware that you feel pain until something happens that either intensifies the pain or reminds you of it. What I have experienced is no worse than anyone's experience who lives into adulthood. On the contrary, it is better than most. I internalize more and am intensely conscious of thoughts and feelings.

But it is this awareness of the intensity of grief which causes me to struggle to not give in to fear. I have often questioned my own allegiance to God. Is it built on the basis of what He has done for me? Is it contingent on what He will continue to do for me? Or is it based on a relationship, on years of spending time with Him? Is He strong enough to bear my grief when all other hope in this life has died? Can He carry me in victory to the grave?

I doubt myself more than anything. I cling to His promise that He has begun a good work in me and He will accomplish it completely on the day Yeshua the Messiah returns (Php 1:6). I say to Him when I am most scared, "I trust You."