Whispers of Truth

The struggle with being corrected is real because it is a struggle with pride. Being wrong, well, it just feels wrong. My flesh usually rises up first and balks at any attempt to correct me — be it offered in love or otherwise.  Then the reality hits me; I usually need correcting. By this point, I have usually compounded any problem that inspired the attempt at course correction to begin with, but at some point the cycle must be broken, and I have to change the way I feel about correction, discipline, if I am His child. The first five chapters of Revelation make this need for the ability to accept correction crystal clear just in case I missed it in the preceding 65 books. And lest I question the authority of the author, who by the way was not John but Jesus, here is His affirmation found in the message to Laodicea when it lay in need of repentance: “These are the words of the Amen, the trusted and faithful and true witness, the Beginning and Origin of God’s creation” (Rev. 3:14b, AM

Hebrews prods us to encourage others in Christ who are struggling. Today. As I read through the book again today, Hebrews 3:13 stands out, as it always does but with a better understanding that doing so also helps to protect me from being hardened (or settling into rebellion, as the AMP version offers) by sin’s deceitfulness. There is the reciprocity of the giving of encouragement as well as the receiving of it from others. I am not to always and only give encouragement (maybe that would mean I have been deceived by sin and hardened to the point of being proud or arrogant); I am not to always and only take it (maybe that would mean I have been deceived by sin and hardened to others’ need for encouragement, selfishly thinking I need it more). So how do I do this, practically?  Hebrews 4:14 offers the encouragement to HOLD FAST to my confession, to cling tenaciously to my faith in God’s unique ability to save in Jesus Christ. Hebrews 3:14 tells me to HOLD FIRM to my “newborn confide

Recently my husband showed me a short video that looked to be from the ‘80s and featured a very mature band singing a startling rendition of a very secular-sounding rock song. The adaptation, if I remember correctly, spoke of the “hotness” of God’s holy Word. It was interesting, to say the least, but if I had to guess, it was an early attempt by the demonization to interest young people in the music of the church. I have to say if I had been a youth in that church, I would’ve been hard pressed not to just laugh out loud at the absurdity of the performance that also featured back-up singers dressed like Jackie O and swaying in the background. In all seriousness, much of what churches do today to appeal to people, to just fill their pews, might one day be just as laughably absurd as that video was to me, but it really isn’t a laughing matter, this pull to make the church just like the world. Today as I was rereading 1 Timothy, the thing that jumped out at me is Paul’s mentioning of spir

  Maybe it is the rain, but I doubt it. More than likely, it is the umbrella that makes the difference. If you’ve read my blog, over time you’ve learned that as a child I loved rain, but I loved rain not so much because of the rain itself (I’ve learned most grown-ups don’t love it, you know). I loved rain because when I was with my grandmother (who faithfully watched Lawrence Welk on his TV show that ran from the 50s to the 80s), the rain caused the music came out in me all the time (piano in the house, too) but especially when it rained.  I had also seen at some point (no idea where, but maybe with her when it came on TV or with my mom—definitely not Daddy) Gene Kelly in Singin’ in the Rain . There were no black lampposts in the yard to hop on and dance, but there were plenty of puddles on the farm, and when she let me—and Grandmother did let me—probably to get me out of her hair for a moment of peace and quiet—go outside and play in it, I did and loved every second of it. Singing

Gardens In a beautifully prepared place for His creation God walked with them in the cool of the day. A subtle serpent’s hiss intruded, words whispered into listening ears  That used willing hands created by God to pluck and eat fruit from the one forbidden tree, And God removed them from access to His presence in His garden. Cast out, they walked eastward into the dust of an earth now Burdened by their sin, weary man’s existence now scrabbled from dirt made for more; Displaced, they walked and waked and worked separate from God, sinful creatures, ruined;  Thus Emmanuel came and walked and waked and worked in the dust with His creation. ’Til one day in another garden precious sweat drops fell, blood red on the ground  That drank its promise and cried out to God for relief as Jesus, awake, watching, cried out to God for His will to be done while mankind slept. Satan slithered into that garden, too, kissing Jesus in the crowded darkness, whispering “friend.” Jesus left t

It has been around much longer than the current # IYKYK social media trend, and you’ve probably seen the acronym if you have been anywhere near the Internet or a social media account. As early as 2016 urbandictionary.com had a pretty good bead on its meaning being not only an explanation for why you might not “get” what is being discussed as well as one that excludes those not “there” as being out of the loop, not being “in the know”—essentially it is a new generation’s reprisal of the “You would have had to have been there” that my generation often used. A few years later, the definition morphed a bit to include the rather juvenile aspect of the saying when used on social media as well as its potential for inciting drama and fear of missing out ( fomo for the uninitiated) the use of it tends to create. Luke 12. Jesus’ words to His disciples about life and ministry, about anxiety and readiness and thriving in this world. The backdrop is set. A crowd so numerous one cannot move s

The eternal quest of a temporary guest cannot be easily described,                    but t he matter of the heart is the matter at hand. The unguarded heart,  defiled and dishonored,  Is full of treacherous deceit and lies in wait for sin’s opportunity to spew forth false-hearted hate. The guarded heart broken,  muzzled mouth mute,  withholds its fiery tongue and cries in supplication to God instead who sees man’s frail estate. The desperate sojourner, lifting sorrowful prayers, chooses to lay them at God’s feet and begs for extrication from a situation only he could create. The mere breath, the vapor, crying in conflicted rage, cannot escape the travails of this world yet hopes confidently in God, He who disciplines and rescues from sin, on Him the transient sojourner waits. Look away, Lord, See my sin no more! Instead see Jesus’ blood shed for me on the cross and saving me from loss, freeing me from a desperately wicked heart. The eternal quest of a t

  Scripture echoes from Old to New, resounding the truth of God across the ages of man. The more I read and reread and reread and ingest and study and chew on Scripture, the more I see these echoes, and they serve to increase my faith, assuage any doubts that try to rise up, and fill me with hope. As our congregation has moved in our corporate reading of the Bible this year from Old into New Testament Scriptures, the gospels pick up the loud echo. Christ’s words speak the same words spoken to God’s chosen people centuries earlier. Christ says Moses wrote of Him; indeed, the whole Old Testament conceals (and yet still points out clearly in retrospect) the Christ that the New Testament reveals.  Two echoes resounded today.  One of them is a question Jesus asks that I constantly chew on as I encounter in people and in myself sin that begs to be dealt with: “Do you want to be made well?” (NKJV). It is a question I come to over and over again (and feel quite sure I have written of in d

Often the soaked words come like  endless drops of water  to an ocean at full pool, flowing, and I think they will never stop.  Other times the parched words come to a desert,  an empty canteen,  halting. Occasionally the stilted words come  and stand staunchly like pines in a forest of managed timber, sentinels standing tall, guarded. But today . . .  Today the wild words splay in chaotic black ink,  eating  acres of  pristine paper,  escapees running free, unfettered . kbp '22

The Vital Role of the Senses God created the senses that operate within each of us, making both the hearing ear and the seeing eye (Prov. 20:12) and allows us the sense of taste not only for the food we eat but also for things spiritual in nature. As such we are able to “taste and see that the Lord is good” (Ps. 34:8), and Psalm 119:103 tells us that God’s own words are “sweet to [the] taste, s weeter than honey to [the] mouth!” Paul also notes that God spreads the “sweet fragrance of the knowledge of Him” to a lost and dying world through us, the “fragrance of Christ” that is “vital, living, and fresh” (2 Cor. 2:14-16). Jesus graciously speaks to Thomas, who doubts His resurrection, and He tells him, “Reach here with your finger, and see My hands; and put out your hand and place it in My side. Do not be unbelieving, but [stop doubting and] believe” (Jn. 20:27). Touch moved Thomas in a way he had refused to be moved to that point.   Even though salvation is a gift from God and it com

Trying to capture images of spider webs with clarity is baffling AND challenging to me. The beautiful nebulousness and silky nothingness of their webs call to me in their beauty--until they wrap around my head and stick in my hair (causing my husband to tell me to quit acting all scared . . . "You mean, like a GIRL?!") Y'all, sin is the same way. It is often beautiful and nebulous and inviting and doesn't seem like much until we walk right into its web and it sticks to us for dear life. It is real. It is personal. WE ARE ALL SINNERS who make the choice to struggle with (or fail to battle) sin for as long as we live. Like each spider web is intricate and different, so are our sins. One is not worse than another . . . all sin is repulsive to God, which is why we desperately need Jesus and the grace He offers freely! As I have read through Ezekiel this time around, I have paid more attention to Matthew Henry's admonitions in his commentary (usually, the personal ones

If he had remained in Jerusalem, Ezekiel would have begun serving as a priest at age 30; instead, he finds himself a prophet at God’s command while in exile in Babylon. Ezekiel’s visions in chapters 8-12 of the book bearing his name are heartrending, especially the ones related to the departure of God from the temple. With the Spirit’s assistance (8.2-3), Ezekiel is snatched out of exile in his house near Babylon and taken to Jerusalem to the place where he beholds “the glory and brilliance of the God of Israel [who had loved and chosen them]” to reside among them and place His name (8.4, AMP). The extraordinary nature of the visions given Ezekiel seem fantastic, but our God is fantastically full of awesomeness we cannot comprehend. Come Dig and See the Horrors When Ezekiel gets to the courtyard entrance of the temple, he is shown a hole in the wall that he is commanded to dig into and gain entrance. When he breaks through and looks inside, he sees not only all the repugnant creeping

A man's farewell tour. An exile in Babylon. The Spirit moving, showing what one must suffer. Speaking truth to a hardened, stubborn, obstinate house. Commands not to be afraid or dismayed before people even when they don’t listen. Like often happens, my daily reading and my studying to teach collided today in Ezekiel 1-4 and Acts 20. A Farewell Tour Last night’s study was focused in Acts 20, and we read Paul’s farewell declaration to the elders of Ephesus that he had testified “faithfully of the good news of God’s [precious, undeserved] grace [which makes us free of the guilt of sin and grants us eternal life]” (v. 24, AMP). Paul refuses to cling so tightly to his life in this world that he would forgo finishing the course he understands God has set him upon. He knows through the Spirit’s witness what awaits him in Jerusalem, where he is headed. Paul knows he will never see these men on earth again, and he makes this declaration: “I testify to you on this [our parting] day that I