When I hear the name, Ichabod, I generally think of Sleepy Hollow's headless horseman. The bible's reference is much scarier.
"She named the child Ichabod, saying, 'The glory has departed from Israel!'" This was the declaration of Phinehas' wife when the ark of the covenant was captured and taken from Israel. Recently I heard a preacher declare that if we ran from the Lord's will on our lives, He would write Icahbod on our lives. I'd rather confront Ichabod's headless horseman.
I heard one preacher declare, not too long ago, that my sin would be visited on myself and my children in the forms of sickness, deformities, and poverty among other things. This threw me into a frenzy of condemnation and frantic holy living. I've come to realize though that the message of Jesus is different. It's even in his name. Emmanuel, God with us.
God is with us. He said He would never leave us nor forsake us. When we fall, He'll pick us up. Because He does love us, He may chastise us from time to time, but even this is something to be desired. I have been blessed by the Lord and chastised by Him, and both have left me with the same feeling of well being and security. I fear the Lord, but am no longer afraid of Him. He can do with me as He desires because I know, as I've stated in a previous post today, that He is good, and would never harm me for harm's sake. This is why Job could say, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him."
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Harmony Revisited
The following account is a true story, which should make it all the more hilarious.
It was a warm summer Sunday morning. We'd had visitors to our church who claimed the Lord had miraculously changed all the husbands porcelain crowns to gold. The pastor and several elders had witnessed the presence of the beautiful gold work, although not the transformation. It appeared the activities for the morning included praying for God to announce his presence by doing the same in the congregation. I glanced around the sanctuary praying that no one I knew from town had come to visit that day. I was shamefully full of glee that my prayer was apparently answered.
After a few members had been given flashlights by the elders, the rest of us were lined up in the front of the church and instructed to open our mouths to see if God was made manifest that morning in gold crowns and fillings. I suffered through it, waiting until it was over so I could grab my family and run home as fast as my little legs would carry me. Everyone seemed so expectant and full of faith and I was well aware there wasn't another voice of reason that would back me up if I confessed my doubt that there was ever a miracle in the first place. (I did have my suspicion that this was nothing more than some excellent dentistry.)
To my chagrin, one member exclaimed upon looking in my mouth that not one filling was gold, all of them had been transformed! So much for blending into the burnt umber carpeted altar. Instantly the crowd pressed around me eager to see the work of the Lord. Even the pastor exclaimed, "They're all gold! God is surely here this morning.!" Well, I had to go see for myself, so I walked the long trek to the ladies room and opened wide and looked in the mirror. Much to my surprise (ha!) I found my teeth were still the same silver color they always were. I returned and proclaimed it to be so and was immediately berated for my lack of faith. Although they tried to do this with affection, it still left the impression of someone trying to tell another that they were foolish in their childish belief that the planets revolved around the sun and not the earth. The easiest thing to do was to keep quite, bide my time until the service had ended and go home. But I'm not known for doing the easiest thing. Surely, if a voice of reason could be heard, others would see that this was hysteria at worst, foolishness at best.
I called my daughter over and handed her the flashlight. "Look in my mouth dear, and tell me what you see?" She answered, "Teeth and fillings." I asked her what color they were. "What do you mean?" she asked, "The same color they've always been, silver." I then asked out loud if anyone had ever read the Emporer's New Clothes? The shock was tangible. I was a doubter and could not receive a blessing from the Lord, and had also caused my impressionable young daughter to doubt the works of the Lord as well. If I wasn't trying my best not to cry from laughing, I would have cried from crying.
The next Sunday I returned (Lord knows why, but that's another story) and sat in the back. The announcement was made that several people had been touched by God's hand and had heavenly crowns. (I don't think that's what the bible meant when it says we will be casting our crowns at His feet) I was mentioned by name with concern that I had missed the blessing of the Lord because of my unbelief.
This soon passed, but was mentioned from time to time with anticipation that something similar would again show us how present God is and how concerned he is with our lives.
There is a light that can shine on us and show us how we are being transformed from works of flesh to works of gold. "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. (Ps 119:105)" We might be better of if we let Him shine His light on our hearts and give us crowns we can carry in our souls. These won't rust or decay but will accompany us to that great by-and-by when we can present them to Him in new splendor and a greater glory than we can ever witness here on earth.
It was a warm summer Sunday morning. We'd had visitors to our church who claimed the Lord had miraculously changed all the husbands porcelain crowns to gold. The pastor and several elders had witnessed the presence of the beautiful gold work, although not the transformation. It appeared the activities for the morning included praying for God to announce his presence by doing the same in the congregation. I glanced around the sanctuary praying that no one I knew from town had come to visit that day. I was shamefully full of glee that my prayer was apparently answered.
After a few members had been given flashlights by the elders, the rest of us were lined up in the front of the church and instructed to open our mouths to see if God was made manifest that morning in gold crowns and fillings. I suffered through it, waiting until it was over so I could grab my family and run home as fast as my little legs would carry me. Everyone seemed so expectant and full of faith and I was well aware there wasn't another voice of reason that would back me up if I confessed my doubt that there was ever a miracle in the first place. (I did have my suspicion that this was nothing more than some excellent dentistry.)
To my chagrin, one member exclaimed upon looking in my mouth that not one filling was gold, all of them had been transformed! So much for blending into the burnt umber carpeted altar. Instantly the crowd pressed around me eager to see the work of the Lord. Even the pastor exclaimed, "They're all gold! God is surely here this morning.!" Well, I had to go see for myself, so I walked the long trek to the ladies room and opened wide and looked in the mirror. Much to my surprise (ha!) I found my teeth were still the same silver color they always were. I returned and proclaimed it to be so and was immediately berated for my lack of faith. Although they tried to do this with affection, it still left the impression of someone trying to tell another that they were foolish in their childish belief that the planets revolved around the sun and not the earth. The easiest thing to do was to keep quite, bide my time until the service had ended and go home. But I'm not known for doing the easiest thing. Surely, if a voice of reason could be heard, others would see that this was hysteria at worst, foolishness at best.
I called my daughter over and handed her the flashlight. "Look in my mouth dear, and tell me what you see?" She answered, "Teeth and fillings." I asked her what color they were. "What do you mean?" she asked, "The same color they've always been, silver." I then asked out loud if anyone had ever read the Emporer's New Clothes? The shock was tangible. I was a doubter and could not receive a blessing from the Lord, and had also caused my impressionable young daughter to doubt the works of the Lord as well. If I wasn't trying my best not to cry from laughing, I would have cried from crying.
The next Sunday I returned (Lord knows why, but that's another story) and sat in the back. The announcement was made that several people had been touched by God's hand and had heavenly crowns. (I don't think that's what the bible meant when it says we will be casting our crowns at His feet) I was mentioned by name with concern that I had missed the blessing of the Lord because of my unbelief.
This soon passed, but was mentioned from time to time with anticipation that something similar would again show us how present God is and how concerned he is with our lives.
There is a light that can shine on us and show us how we are being transformed from works of flesh to works of gold. "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. (Ps 119:105)" We might be better of if we let Him shine His light on our hearts and give us crowns we can carry in our souls. These won't rust or decay but will accompany us to that great by-and-by when we can present them to Him in new splendor and a greater glory than we can ever witness here on earth.
Rest
"There remains therefore a rest for the people of God. (Heb 4:9)"
I found it, that rest. It is not elusive or magical, it is just the knowledge that God is good.
"For I know the plans that I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. (Jer 29:11)"
I have gone through some anxiety the past couple of weeks. Some of the symptoms were excessive worry over minor things, increased heartrate, tendency to cry very easily and for long periods of time, sleeplessness, fear. Usually I'll call a friend or my mother and talk things out, but not this time. Whenever the anxiety would start, one thought would run constantly through my mind. "God is good." The heartrate didn't decrease, I still had some trouble sleeping, and at times I was still worried and afraid. Something tremendous happened though. Through it all there was added a trust that God is indeed good, and that my life is in His hands. Despite the emotional symptoms, my spirit was at rest in the knowledge that He is good, and no matter the outcome, it is what is best for me.
I have heard people speak about faith as if it is obtained by repetition of certain verses or actions. If one fails to believe and conjur up faith, healing or prosperity on their own, then they are faithless. This is not so. The rest I found is the realization that no matter what I do, it's still all in His hands. Does this mean I stop trying, that I give in and lay down and let what ever comes just wash over me? No, No, and again No. It means I do whatever He gives my hands to do to the glory of God with excellency and integrity, and with prayer and thanksgiving, leave the outcome in His capable hands. It means I don't wring my hands over my future as if I am a victim of chance or in the hands of an unjust and unloving power. It means I realize that my reward is not always tendered in the temporal, but often revelealed in eternity. It means I know God walks among time much like Merlin, but goes from my past, present, and future like I walk from room to room in my own house. He was present before me and will be present after me, but He is also present with me. What comfort, what joy.
I found it, that rest. It is not elusive or magical, it is just the knowledge that God is good.
"For I know the plans that I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. (Jer 29:11)"
I have gone through some anxiety the past couple of weeks. Some of the symptoms were excessive worry over minor things, increased heartrate, tendency to cry very easily and for long periods of time, sleeplessness, fear. Usually I'll call a friend or my mother and talk things out, but not this time. Whenever the anxiety would start, one thought would run constantly through my mind. "God is good." The heartrate didn't decrease, I still had some trouble sleeping, and at times I was still worried and afraid. Something tremendous happened though. Through it all there was added a trust that God is indeed good, and that my life is in His hands. Despite the emotional symptoms, my spirit was at rest in the knowledge that He is good, and no matter the outcome, it is what is best for me.
I have heard people speak about faith as if it is obtained by repetition of certain verses or actions. If one fails to believe and conjur up faith, healing or prosperity on their own, then they are faithless. This is not so. The rest I found is the realization that no matter what I do, it's still all in His hands. Does this mean I stop trying, that I give in and lay down and let what ever comes just wash over me? No, No, and again No. It means I do whatever He gives my hands to do to the glory of God with excellency and integrity, and with prayer and thanksgiving, leave the outcome in His capable hands. It means I don't wring my hands over my future as if I am a victim of chance or in the hands of an unjust and unloving power. It means I realize that my reward is not always tendered in the temporal, but often revelealed in eternity. It means I know God walks among time much like Merlin, but goes from my past, present, and future like I walk from room to room in my own house. He was present before me and will be present after me, but He is also present with me. What comfort, what joy.
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