2017 Lingering on the Conversion of Paul

Conversion of St. Paul, Conversion of the World

Saul was a devout Jew who knew God and followed God and thought he was doing the right thing when he went about the land killing those rabble-rousers, those Christians.  Paul knew the rules. 

He followed every Jewish feast and fast impeccably.  He was known as a Pharisee of Pharisees. 

Paul knew that this Jesus, this renegade, was pulling jews away from God . . .  or so he thought.

Paul felt it was his duty to find any Christ-follower, man or woman, and hand them over to the authorities.  

Perhaps they would be killed. 

He did not care. 

Paul thought he was earning his right to be in the kingdom eternally.

Little did Paul know that God knew exactly what He was doing when He blinded Paul with His light.  

God knew that Paul would need a dynamic ‘epiphany’ to see “Light from Light” piercing the darkness of his heart. 

Paul needed a powerful moment to see the Truth, to know the Truth and to live the truth.  

Paul was blind in his heart so God blinded him with His Presence.  

When Paul fell to his knees,  helpless, spinning in wonder at what had happened to him, God had Paul in the palm of His hand.

Paul’s conversion was dramatic.  

He made a 180 degree turn and saw God in totally different light.  

His energy and enthusiasm for God never changed.  

It just changed direction. Paul saw and heard and knew. 

He understood the Truth, whom he was totally against, was totally for him.

  

Paul finally understood that ‘doing’ for God would not be his salvation.  

God came to Paul and drew Paul to Himself for no other reason than God so loved Paul that he gave his only begotten son.  

As soon as Paul believed that Jesus was the son of God, and better understood God’s gift to us for eternal life, Paul could not wait to tell the world.

Yet, Paul had to step back, re-group, examine his life, his focus, his purpose, now that he was Christ’s own forever.   God saw Paul’s enthusiasm, his incredible zest for doing the ‘right’ thing for God.  

God saw Paul’s perseverance, his energy to press into the crowd and scatter those who were not following the ‘rules’ according to what Paul thought the rules to be.  

Yet, that enthusiasm needed to be reigned in, re-worked, re-focused, re-purposed for the spreading of the Gospel, the good news, of Jesus Christ.

It was good that Paul was hidden from view for a few years.  Word spread that Saul, the hater of Christians, was renamed Paul, a beloved child of God.  

Any good pharisee must have spun around in disbelief.  Here was Saul, a learned pharisee, taught by the rabbi of rabbis, Gamaliel, well versed in Torah and Talmud, a man of incredible stature.  

The Saul they knew had changed so drastically.  

How could this man, Jesus, have such a powerful impact on Paul?   

Was Paul actually becoming a rabble-rouser himself?  

How dare he.  

How dare Paul go against the correct way to earn eternal life, the correct way to worship, the correct way to stand on the corner for all to see in the full regalia of a pharisee?  

How dare Paul drag the image of ‘pharisee’ into the mud like this . . .  groveling before God, telling an unbelievable story that only those other rabble-rousers believed.

And yet, when Paul boldly stood before King Agrippa and councils and those ready to kill him, he told these people about God, the Father, sending God’s Son to humanity to walk with them and talk with them and die for them and shed blood on the Cross for them.

For the rest of his life Paul lived on the edge of being acceptable and being killed.

He did not waver in is belief in God’s Son, Jesus Christ.

He died for the faith long after he openly shared his testimony to all who would hear,

 24-7-365.

Every possible catastrophe on his missionary journeys did not stop Paul.

He was bold.

He was secure.

He was totally focused on his mission as he listened to God for direction.

Paul was determined to speak the message of Jesus Christ for the conversion of the whole world.

What would we do if people regaled against our belief in Christ Jesus?

Could we wish to be as bold as Paul in telling our story to others?

Could we stand firm in our belief in God’s only Son, Jesus Christ, even if it meant being killed?

Do we feel secure in our walk with Christ?

Do we have the same holy boldness as Paul when given the opportunity to share our own salvation story?

Perhaps we can take this opportunity to think about our journey in Christ.

Think about our turning points.

Think about our challenges that helped us come face to face with our Lord and bow before Him and acknowledge Jesus Christ as Lord of lords and King of kings.

Could we pray for holy boldness?

Could we walk into the fray of chaos around us and share our conversion story?

Some of us may have always known Christ but when was the turning point when we came face to face with God and knew, deep in our soul, that our entire purpose for living is to do as Paul did . . . share our story . . . share the story of our salvation . . . the saving grace given to us freely, at no cost.

All we have to do is “speak with our mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in our heart that God raised him from the dead and we will be saved.”

Speak our story.

Live our story.

Let “God with us,” Jesus Christ, expand our story as we walk our walk, totally focused on Him.

Let us all pray that we may be like Paul, willing to tell our salvation story with the same passion as Paul to convert the world.

Amen

2017 A TIME TO LINGER A LITTLE LONGER

I begin anew with thoughts from turning points in our journey with Christ Jesus throughout the year.

Epiphany, Baptism of Our Lord: 
               A New Beginning, a New Blessing

Each year we are blessed with the opportunity for a new beginning.  
Each year we remind ourselves that we will be better than last year or do better or have better.  
Hope lingers before us as we continue our journey in Christ, as we add one more chapter to our life story.

The story. 
I love the stories that give us hope, that draw us closer to God in Christ. 
I can hear the stories a kazillion times and they never grow dull or dim.  It’s like the child who says, “read it again” when we’ve read it too many times to count.  
For some reason it is still fresh and new and dazzles the little one’s imagination.

This year we have little time to linger over the Epiphany story or the story of the Baptism of Jesus because they are joined together on a Sunday when space and time are in God’s hands, not ours. 

It’s just a blip on the radar, or so it seems.

Let’s think about it.  
The Magi seek the blessing of a king they have yearned for and are bold enough to seek that king.  
On their own initiative they plan, prepare and travel too many miles to count for this blessing.  
Whatever their motive for seeking this little toddler of a king, they are drawn to Jesus.

They come prepared to give and are overwhelmingly blessed.  The blessing is far greater than any treasure they could bring to this infant King of kings and Lord of lords.  
The glory of the Lord embraced them so fully that they connected with the God of righteousness personally.  
You might say they were the first Christ-followers.  
The Magi returned home, so far away, to share the Gospel of our Lord beyond the reaches of Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria.  

Fast forward 25-30 years and we observe another incredible blessing.  Jesus begins his ministry with an act of righteousness although he is without sin.  
Hundreds are there, at the Jordan, to receive the blessing of baptism from John as they renew their walk with God.  
What an incredible blessing to be present when the full Presence of God envelopes them.  
The minute Jesus rises up from the water the clouds open up, a thunderous voice is heard by all and the Spirit, like a dove, falls and remains on Jesus.

“This is my Son, My beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  
What an incredible introduction to ministry.  What an amazing blessing to experience. 
What a way for Jesus to gain an instant following.  
What an endorsement!  
When God speaks, we listen.

I wonder . . . God could have whispered His affirmation in Jesus’ ear.  
But these words were meant for us.  
“This is my son, this is my daughter, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  
The blessing was meant for all of us.

If we continue to go deeper in our walk, seek more from each story, ponder God’s word a little more each day, the blessings will be exponential.

May we be blessed by this blessing that can go over your doorway on the inside of your home so that you remember God’s incredible blessings that fall upon us daily.

Amen  

Write this, in chalk, above your doorway as a reminder of God's blessing.  
You can also type it out on paper and paste it over your door: 20 + C + M + B + 17
The year is divided and placed at each end.  
The initials for Casper, Melchior and Balthazar 
(the three wise men) is placed in the middle.
While placing the blessing above the doorway of your home,
say, "May all who come to our home this year rejoice to find Christ living among us; and may we seek and serve Christ in everyone we meet. Amen. "

Piles of donations

The flood in Sept. 2011 almost wiped out our little town.

I just found this as a 'draft'

We learned that whatever the crises might be, there are always helping hands

with plenty to share with those who lost everything.

God's abundance is always amazing.

Aftermath of the flooding lingers longer than anticipated. 

Our donation distribution center had to move but remains open in the new location and is now open for those beyond our county.  Some families lost everything and sought clothing for all seasons.  Other families who stored winter clothing in the basement sought enough for the winter.  

There is plenty for everyone ... even teens found great stuff.   

 And food!  Oh my.  Not only the normal food bank donations but for the first couple of weeks there was fresh milk, eggs and meat ... even some freshly decorated cakes.  Donations continue to exceed demand.

 My little 'point and shoot' camera could not take in the immense size of this warehouse.  The lights give you some insight.  There is another building behind this one that is filled with furniture, TVs, appliances (which are snatched up  as fast as they came in) and so much more.  Each day is a surprise.

One of our favorite ice cream and fun food places was flooded in the basement but the water reached only a couple inches into its main floor.  So, a bit of ice cream for many of us was a nice interlude on this gorgeous, cool day.  Having this place open gave everyone hope that life could get back to 'normal' sooner than later.
We lingered on the hill behind this 'hut' as we sat at a picnic table in the middle of a sweet garden ... which I forgot to photograph.

The rains have ebbed to the point that we can finally begin to dry out a bit.  We hold our breath as the ground seems too soggy to hold much more moisture. All too soon we will shiver in the midst of frozen tundra and wonder what all the fuss was about... maybe.

Footnote regarding one of the two little churches (previous post) ...  just a few hours of labor from about fifteen people and we created a new worship space in the 'newer' section of the church property.   The 'old' church is a historic site so we hope they will soon find the funds from grants etc. to rebuild the foundation.

NOVEMBER MEMORIES

[I wrote this nearly 2 years ago and found it as 'unpublished' ... enjoy a bit of nostalgia.]

Sometimes life gets so hectic that I cannot take a minute to linger longer with this blog.

Everyone tells me to 'take a time out' and then one more unintended event squeezes

itself into my 'down' time.

That said, I did take time to take a few photographs during the fabulous month of November.

Even though it snowed, we had a great Fall.

Below, is an image from our back yard.

If you look closely you will see cows munching on grass and enjoying our warm weather.

At least before the snow that hit all of us about mid-month.

Doesn't this look like a Courier and Ives painting?
Sun glistens on empty fields.  Green grass lingers as deciduous trees loose their leaves.

This farm is to the left of the one you see above.
 We drive by it daily and think nothing of what goes on inside.
 Little do we know that these two farms grow feed
for the pampered "Kryder Cows" about a mile down the road.

In November we were offered a tour of the Kryder estate that has been around for well over 100 years.
This is the 'main' house that has been passed down from one family member to another.
From their front door they can see the entire 'cow' operation.

I always wondered why a very 'high tech' farm had rubber tires laying around.

It's the best weight and mobility to move on top of special tarps that cover a 

specific mix of feed hay for the cows.  As the heat from the 'mix' expands, the tires 

hold the gasses 'in check.'  

The tires have holes in the rubber rims so that they

can 'breathe' and not cause more expansion problems as 

tarp rises from the heat of the mixture.

This is what we see when the tires and tarp are removed.

It's a very dense, rich mix of feed for these pampered queens.

Nothing like seeing the backs of cows.  They are milked three times every 

twenty-four hours.  Only two people work the rotating circle.

This woman washes and cleans the cows.  A guy we don't see (far left) 

cleans and attaches the mechanical pumps to the udders.

In the time it takes for the cow to go 'full circle' the milking is done.

The cows can't wait to be milked.  Once led into the milking barn from their well kept 'digs,' 

they move automatically to the single opening of the 'round about.'

This milking process is Kosher - a rabbi lives on the premises and comes to the 

milking barn every 1/2 hour before the next milking (every eight hours) to 

make sure the entire process of preparation for milking is kept 'kosher.'

It's an exacting process so this rabbi is busy.

Here is a better shot of the cows streaming in on their own. 

They know what they like and go for it.

The only two humans we saw were the two who were

cleaning and attaching the mechanical milkers to the udders.

Along with cows, this farm is one of the largest producers of eggs in Pennsylvania.

This 'high tech' feed process is state of the art.

Chickens are kept pristine clean, given the right amount of space and fed

with a very nutritious feed.  Chicken and cow manure is processed in such

a way that it does not smell.  It is turned into a fine powder that is so 

sanitary that it is used for cow bedding. This photo is taken showing the 'pit' in the foreground.

SUNBURST!

[I wrote this 16 months ago and just found it as 'draft'.  Enjoy a bit of summer in November]
It's already July?
How does time fly by so fast?

It's been two months since I lingered at this post.
OH MY!
Each month I think I have plenty of time to write but all too often each day eats up my precious time.

Don't ask me what I do all day.
I know I do a lot of preparing for Sundays.
I know I linger a little too long in my study mode, which fills up my soul.

I finally looked out,
in the midst of another rain storm, and saw three-foot tall weeds in the middle of my beautiful day lilies.

I took a moment when the sun popped out to run around the yard quickly and pull the most noticeable of these scrawny defiers of beauty.
A weed is anything that looks really ugly in the midst of my fabulous flowers.

What a month.
A baptism.
A wedding.
A death . . .  my brother.
I'd hoped he would fare better than he did but he just got too tired to fight.
I don't blame him.
Life is tough when we feel healthy.
Life has got to be tougher when the body is fighting hard to simply get through each day.

As I slowly pop my head out of the cocoon I created around my grieving soul, I see a SUNBURST for summer!

Flowers weave in this mountain wind.
Fuchsia roses pop out of red-green leaves.
Purple bells 'jingle' as they burst out of Hosta.

Orange against blue.
Magenta against yellow.
Green overlapping green with streaks of white popping out to surprise me.

It's nice to look out into life even if all I see is plant life.
Grass grows,
clover spreads,
corn rises into the sky,
oats wave in the swift breeze.

Silence today . . .  finally.
No lawn mowers.
Just the sweet sound of rushing air pressing through stalks of forsythia branches, now green.

I linger a little longer in the quiet.

HOPE BLOOMS

Blooms are everywhere, not knowing what might happen the next day.
Birds flit about with happy song.
A spirit of 'nesting' is in the air.

Who knew that April would bring more snow than rain thus far.
Who knew that spring blooms would weather the storm?
Forsythia is so amazing.
I think the reason Forsythia blooms so early is that there must be a sense of 'hope' in its DNA.
When the snow came, the blooms remained.

Forsythia is forever faithful.
Its blooms remind me that the roses need feeding.
Then I notice the rose bushes with red leaves beginning to pop rosy blooms in the future.

Early blooming shrubs, bulbs and whatever must indeed have the internal clock that says, "Bloom, no matter what happens, Bloom."
That sense of hope is so imbedded inside the stems that blooms POP in spite of snowy days.

Everyone knows that we can't plant until after Mother's day or May 15th, whichever comes last,
especially in these northern slopes that contend with wind chill temps that bring us below freezing in the middle of April.

In spite of the weather, Spring blooms and so does my spirit.
If blooms can keep moving forward with climate change at a moment's notice, I can too.

My life is changing again.
I've been through so much change over my life span that sometimes I think my soul is like Forsythia.

It does not matter the temperature of my life or the season of my life.
Change happens, whenever.
That sense of HOPE during those changes keeps me going.
The hope is so deep within my spirit that I automatically sense its strength.
My hope in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
My hope in the new covenant gift of Jesus Christ who completes my understanding of the Trinity.

Hope cannot last long without my hope in the One who IS . . .  forever . . . my salvation.

I grieve over friends made over the past few years who will remain where they are as I move on.
God called us into that family and God called us out.
All I have to do is follow God's lead, just as forsythia follows the lead of its DNA in nature.

It's natural for me to keep moving, keep looking forward, keep on keeping on, through storms or through sweet spring days when the sun shines endlessly after the dark winter passes.

Although I am edging toward the winter of my life, my spirit whispers hope of spring-like adventures.
I want to bloom again, in a different place with a different focus.

Yet, I'm called to step back for a few months, release all ties to my current vocation, and rest.
It all sounds wonderful.
Easier said than done.

Only the the Presence, the Spirit of God, will help me to remain quiet, be still, and remind me that Hope will draw me through each day.

Hope reminds me to REJOICE and give blessing for the gifts of each day.
Just like forsythia growing strong in the midst of a snow storm, I can grow, heal and grow strong during this time of change.
I'm getting excited about this new adventure in BEING and not doing.
HOPE blooms deep within me . . .  the hope that I can still be used by God in ways that naturally flow from my soul.

THE DANCE OF HOPE

Those who followed Jesus into Jerusalem had been with him for some time.  

They knew what might happen but their hopeful hearts grasped onto the fact that Jesus asked for a donkey that had never been ridden.  Only a king rides a donkey that never had been ridden. 

Perhaps the ever-wondering followers of Jesus felt a burst of hope that this passive, loving prophet of prophets 

would suddenly change and become a powerful king who would overthrow the Roman oppression and bind up those who were against this person who had transformed thousands of Jewish lives.

Hope rose high as throngs of people ran before Jesus and laid their cloaks at the feet of the donkey and waved palm branches as

Jesus entered through the Jerusalem gate.  

Perhaps they remembered the power of God working through Moses and Aaron at the first passover.  

Perhaps this present passover would reveal the power of God turning the world up-side-down so that the Jews were on top instead of on the bottom of the heap of good fortune.

Ahhh, the first passover. 

The last of the plagues when the angel of death passed over the homes of the Hebrew people who had sacrificed an unblemished lamb and painted the shed blood of the lamb on the posts and lintels of their doorways.  

God sent one man, Moses, to free the hebrew slaves from Egyptian oppression.  

Moses only had Aaron and Marion to help him and look what happened. 

The first born of the hebrew males survived the angel of death passing over Egypt and almost a million people fled Egypt in the Exodus.  

The powerful acts of God had been celebrated from that first passover to this one which Jesus was planning to celebrate in Jerusalem, as was required for devout Jews.

Hope danced in the streets as Jesus entered this city that the disciples knew was dangerous.  

If Jesus did not sneak in, if he not only entered through the main gate but entered as a king would enter, for all to see and hail, Jesus must know something big was going to happen.  

Trust, hope, assurance, a festive spirit embraced the mob. 

So far so good. 

The Romans did not seem bothered by this

maze of marvelous joy.  

And so hope rose. 

People went their way.  

They knew good things would happen during this Passover feast. 

Their salvation experience centuries earlier freed them from bondage.  

Perhaps this would be another salvation experience . . . where new freedom would unbind the rigid laws and expectations the leaders had laid on the Jewish people.  

Jesus could overcome the emperor and Roman soldiers in the same way Moses and Aaron had done so long ago.

So, with joy, the disciples found a place just for Jesus and the twelve. 

They gathered together for the Passover feast.  

Joy, hope and light conversation slowly crept into a solemn time of listening to their Lord and being surprised by his deep love for the ones who had spent three years with him.  

The washing of feet by one whose feet should be washed, the words of wisdom that seemed too lofty to understand, the questions that met the stone heart of the deceiver in their midst. 

Hope turned to conviction as Judas stormed out into the black night.

The Passover feast that usually lasts many hours became a time of instruction and prayer in the garden.  

Wait, watch, stay awake. 

Too much wine, so tired, sleep overtook the the disciples as Jesus prays hard, sweating drops of  blood. 

Hope dwindles as the few closest to Jesus see his pain and hear his agonizing words to the Father.  

When is Jesus going to turn the world up-side-down?  

When is he going to free those enslaved by a government that denies the Jewish people so much freedom?

And then hope is dashed when Jesus is arrested and tossed from one leader to the next and moved about all night and mocked and scorned and then . . .  

Hope is smothered when this sinless man is condemned to the most wretched of deaths, death on the Cross.  

The worst part is seeing the disciples flee, implode and deny

their bond with Jesus. 

The betrayal may have been the most hopeless moment for Jesus.  

Did he spend three years mentoring these leaders for nothing? 

Jesus’ hope is in the Father.  

Through the Father, all that is . . . should. .  be. . . as. . . it. . . is . . .  Prophecy must be fulfilled.  

Each phrase of scripture the hebrew people knew well was being fulfilled as Jesus was flogged and led to his death.

And Hope bloomed for those left behind when Jesus breathed, “Forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

As Jesus hung on the cross, slowly dying, hope rose from the abyss as the man hanging next to him asked if he could enter paradise.  “Jesus, remember me, when You come into Your Kingdom.” 

Hope breaths life into another who is dying.  

Hope died on the cross so that others might see, feel, know, understand . . . the hope that was and is and is to come.

All is dark … silent . . .  empty.

But hope never fails.  

God so loved the world that He gave us his only Son to die on the Cross.  

Any and all who have a swirl of faith and can believe in God’s Son will not only have eternal life but will dance in everlasting hope by faithfully believing in the love of Christ Jesus, our Lord.   Amen