God’s Guidance

Through the Desert

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you. Psalm 32:8

It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”
Deuteronomy 31:8

A Desolate Route

Last summer, I joined my family for a portion of their epic road trip. I flew into Albuquerque and out of Las Vegas, visiting places like the Grand Canyon, Antelope Canyon, and Joshua Tree National Park along the way.

After touring the latter, we stopped by a Starbucks to pick up lunch and some snacks to keep us going as we drove to Vegas, about 220 miles away. While waiting for our order, we pulled up directions. One route option would take almost an hour longer. Not paying close attention to the details and wanting to get to the rental house and its pool sooner rather than later, we selected the shorter option. Who wouldn’t?

In hindsight, I wouldn’t! At least not at night or alone.

In our haste, we failed to see that our chosen route would take us straight through the Mojave Desert and mile after mile of desolation. After enduring a couple of hours of the same vast vista with few signs of life, I understood why the barista shook his head and smiled knowingly when I asked if there was another Starbucks between 29 Palms and Las Vegas. “No ma’am. There’s really not much of anything between here and the Nevada state line.”

No kidding!

Frayed Nerves

We didn’t have cell service for most of the trip, but fortunately, the map app kept working. Each time the directions indicated a turn in the next X miles, I would get my hopes up that after I made the turn, I would see civilization. Nope! Though turns weren’t numerous, the ones we did make revealed more of the same scenery stretching to the horizon.

Multiple repetitions of the hope-turn-more of the same landscape cycle taxed my mental strength. I began to think we might never make it out of the desert, and my empathy for those who made the trek before there were roads, much less towns, deepened. I could understand how they might snap before ever reaching their final destination. After all, I was in an air-conditioned car, not a covered wagon or on horseback!

Sustained by caffeine and my daughter’s assurance that we would eventually emerge from the seemingly unending desert, I continued to follow the directions, one after another. Finally, after what felt like days instead of hours, we made a turn and saw I-15 in the distance. I’ve never been so happy to see an interstate!

Spiritual Parallels

As I pondered that trek across the desert, several spiritual parallels came to mind.

We were quick to choose the route we thought would be easier. It was indeed shorter, but it was fraught with potential perils. How often do I opt for what I perceive as the less challenging route in life, only to find hazards and temptations I wouldn’t have encountered had I taken the time to submit my plans to God and His word before proceeding?

Yet, there are times when God providentially ordains that we walk through the wilderness, something we would never choose. He uses those experiences to conform us more to the image of His Son, who endured His own wilderness experience (Matthew 4:1-11). We may wonder if we’ll ever come out safely on the other side. When we do, we emerge with our faith strengthened, ready to comfort those with the comfort we’ve received from our compassionate Father (2 Corinthians 1:3-7).

Having food and a traveling companion made the desert ordeal more bearable. Never underestimate the sustaining power of God’s word and the blessing of having a fellow believer come alongside you during wilderness wanderings. Even when we don’t have another person with us, we’re never alone. God has promised to go before us, never to leave or forsake us, and the indwelling Spirit is always with us.

Epilog

Several weeks after my journey through the desert, I visited relatives in South Dakota. There are multiple routes to choose from when driving from the Omaha Airport to Platte, the small town where my husband grew up. I picked one based on a timely stop for dinner. I thought I had chosen the same route for the return trip, but halfway through, I realized I no longer recognized any of the scenery.

As I followed the map prompts, making turn after turn that took me along roads bordered by flourishing fields of corn and soybeans, doubts similar to those I experienced in the Mojave crept into my mind. “I don’t know where I am or how long it will take me to get through this maze! What if I’m late for my flight?”

Almost as soon as the misgivings materialized, I shook my head as I realized how much I’m like the Israelites who forgot about God’s miraculous deliverance and provision a few short days after the exodus from Egypt (Exodus 16:2-3).  

Not trusting a GPS is one thing, but not trusting God? That’s an entirely different matter! Whether I’m traversing deserts or wandering through lush landscapes, God is Sovereign over every detail of my life and will never lose sight of me.

And when this life is over, God will receive me into glory, my ultimate destination (Psalm 73:23-24).

Don’t Look!

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But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.
James 1:14-15

I Looked!

My late husband Ray started a decades-long tradition when he gave me several pieces of Department 56’s Dickens Village for my birthday in December 1989. Ray added to the village each year until he passed away in 1997. I continued accumulating pieces until 2019, when I declared it was complete. With 100 lit buildings and almost twice as many accessories, the village occupies three rooms of my house during the holiday season and requires nearly 20 hours of set-up time over multiple days. Though it’s a labor of love and accounts for the vast majority of my holiday decorating, I realized there was no need to keep adding to it, especially at my age and knowing my offspring may want a building or two and the accompanying accessory pieces, but no one is clamoring to take on the whole village.

Hence, for three years, I deleted the emails I received from the store in South Dakota, where I’d ordered many pieces over the last decade, without opening them. There was no need to look if I wasn’t intending to buy. But one recent day, I was scrolling through emails, and “VIP sale, 25% off!” caught my eye. I opened the email and clicked the link. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to peruse what had been added to the collection since I last looked.

Wow! Turns out it was quite a lot. Just as the cost of everything else has gone up the past couple of years, prices of the lit buildings have sky-rocketed. I admired the new pieces but focused on the more reasonably-priced accessories, consoling myself with the knowledge that the village doesn’t have room for any more residences, churches, or shops. But accessories – that’s a different story! The village isn’t overpopulated – plenty of room to welcome a few more residents and pets.

I Bought!

Occasionally, I’ve added new pieces to the town merely because they were pretty, but usually, I choose items that have a special connection to a person, memory, or tradition. I scrolled through the offerings and started adding accessories to my cart, recognizing first one association and then another:

  • “To Keep the Doctor Away,” a lady selling apples, speaks directly to my daily habit of eating an apple and sharing it with my grandchildren if they’re around.
  • “Winter Game of Catch,” a little boy tossing a snowball to his dog, is reminiscent of Cash, my grandchildren’s pet, rushing to the refrigerator when one of us runs the ice maker in hopes we’ll toss him a cube or two.
  • A couple of garden-related items – no explanation needed!

One by one, the items went into my cart. I removed several before I checked out – no need to go overboard – but seven items were still on the list when I clicked “Submit Order.”

As soon as I did, I thought, “This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t looked,” which immediately led me to think about the age-old pattern of temptation, which often starts with looking, followed by rationalizing.

I Pondered!

Eve wasn’t subject to mindlessly scrolling through email, but she had a wily adversary who directed her attention to the only off-limits tree in her garden paradise home. Reeled in by Satan’s assertion that she wouldn’t die if she ate its fruit, she looked and saw that the tree was good for food and a delight to the eyes. She even convinced Adam it would be ok.

Their eyes were opened alright, but they were no longer delighted as the gravity of their decision closed in on them. The consequences of their disobedience affect their offspring to this day and will until Jesus, the promised Seed, returns to conquer death once and for all (Genesis 3). 

And how about King David? He decided to stay home while his men went out to do battle. Not being where he was supposed to be was his first mistake, but the real trouble began late one afternoon. Strolling about on his roof, he caught sight of a beautiful woman bathing. Did he do the decent, respectful thing, avert his eyes, and make his way back into the palace? Nope. He allowed his gaze to linger, igniting his desire. Even when his servant reported that Bathsheba was Eliam’s daughter and Uriah’s wife, it was too late. The king simply had to have her. Just like Eve’s decision began a series of woeful events, so did David’s, including adultery and murder (2 Samuel 11).

Then there’s Lot’s wife. Unlike Eve and David, she didn’t get another chance to repent and return to the narrow path. When she paused and looked back at the devastation God’s wrath wrought on Sodom, she turned into a pillar of salt right on the spot (Genesis 19:24-26).

Granted, purchasing a few accessories for my village won’t have such dire consequences. As my daughter Mary used to say, I wasn’t putting the grocery money at risk, plus my grandchildren happily made the connections as soon as I showed them the new pieces several days ago. However, the ease with which I gave in to this relatively minor temptation serves as a good reminder that heading down the wrong path in more life-altering areas generally begins with looking, lingering, and considering, a pattern James described in the introductory verses above. Before you know it, you can be many steps down a road you never intended to take.

Though our compassionate heavenly Father remembers we’re dust and removes our sins as far as the east is from the west when we repent and seek His forgiveness (Psalm 103:6-14), our wandering usually leads to consequences for us and those we cherish most. Thus, it’s best to stick to the narrow way to begin with, looking neither to the left nor right.

O Lord, we are surrounded by temptations, but Your word assures us that no temptation has overtaken us that is not common to man. Furthermore, You are faithful, and will not let us be tempted beyond our ability, but with the temptation will also provide the way of escape, that we may be able to endure it (1 Corinthians 10:13). Please help us to avail ourselves of the means of escape You provide so that we won’t pierce ourselves or those dear to us with the consequences of our straying.

Look Up!

/ Patsy Kuipers / 4 Comments

I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.
Psalm 121:1-2

The Long-lost Rug

This time 50 years ago, my parents and I were living in Argentina. Dad was working for a subsidiary of his US employer, and Mom and I were along for the 2-year adventure. We made use of school holidays to travel around Argentina and to other Latin American countries. And, as most tourists are wont to do, we accumulated plenty of souvenirs. One of our favorites was a llama-skin rug that depicted a woman tending one of the furry pack animals.

Mom and Dad used it as a wall-hanging when we returned to the States, and then at some point, my husband and I took possession of it. The rug hung on our wall for a while, but there was no place for it when we moved from Delaware to Georgia, so we returned it to my parents.

Then somehow, it disappeared.

Occasionally the rug would come up in conversation, and we’d muse, “Whatever happened to it?” Some good-natured banter would follow the question:

“I think you have it.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I gave it back to you.”

“Well, wherever it is, we haven’t seen it for years!”

So it went until one day last month when I was searching for something in my late mother’s closet. I looked up, and there it was, neatly folded on the top shelf! I’m not sure why Mom tucked it away in there with her clothes, but I felt like I’d found a long-lost treasure and couldn’t wait to tell my family about the discovery.

The Dark Hole is Real

I don’t know about you, but it seems like at least once a week, I or someone else in my family will bemoan the fact we’ve misplaced something. Sometimes we’ll find the missing item in relatively short order. Then again, there are times when objects remain lost for weeks, months, or even years, like the llama rug. We refer to this as “the dark hole syndrome,” as in “the dark hole ate it.”

A few days after locating the rug, I began helping my dad prepare to move into assisted living. His new apartment has a small porch that is still big enough to accommodate two of his deck chairs. I offered to get some cushions to make the metal seats more comfortable. Dad replied that he already had some, and we proceeded to hunt for them.

We searched in all the logical places – in the basement where he kept the patio set, in the garage, in the storage area tucked under the stairs – all to no avail.

“Chalk up another one for the dark hole,” Dad sighed.

I’ve made almost-daily trips between Dad’s house and his apartment, picking up necessities as well as niceties he forgot to include in the initial transport of stuff. I was standing in his closet, talking to him on the phone as he gave me instructions about where to find that day’s requested item. I looked up and started laughing.

“Guess what I just found!”

“What?”

“The chair cushions!!”

“Where?!”

“On the top shelf in your closet! I need to start looking up more instead of straight ahead all the time.”

A Spiritual Parallel

The words had barely left my mouth when a spiritual application occurred to me. Too often, when faced with a challenging situation, I focus on the dilemma in front of me. Instead of taking a Biblical perspective, I become mired in the what-ifs and oh-nos. The dark hole of doubt swallows up what I know to be true about God as surely as my family’s fictional dark hole occasionally devours objects.

But when I look up, I remember I’m not alone. My help comes from the Lord, the very Maker of heaven and earth (Psalm121:1-2).

Furthermore, the Spirit gently reminds me of the truth found in the Apostle Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians:

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:16-18).

The things pressing in on me will soon pass, whereas those currently hidden or out of focus will become clear and constant (1 Corinthians 13:12). God’s promises and assurances are always there, ready to be seen by enlightened eyes of faith if we’ll simply look up.

Dear Lord, please enlighten the eyes of our hearts that we may know the hope you’ve called us to, the glorious riches of our inheritance in Christ, and the immeasurable greatness of Your power toward us who believe (Ephesians 1:18-19).

Heart Check

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.
1 Corinthians 10:12

Given the nature of my blog, I share personal stories in almost every post. At times I wonder if I share too much, but I’ve come to realize being real offers more hope and encouragement than if I sugar-coated my experiences. Occasionally though, the Lord nudges me further outside my comfort zone and impresses upon me to use a post to confess something. So, even though it makes me feel more vulnerable than usual, this is one of those posts.

The Big Dump

Over the past few months, I’ve been cleaning out my closet, gradually moving items I rarely wear to my daughter’s old room. The piles containing a mix of professional and casual apparel grew so large my grandchildren barely had space to play with the toys also located in their mom’s former room. Thus, I made a final pass through my closet one recent morning and then carefully folded and boxed everything up. I added some household items I  no longer use, loaded everything into my CR-V, and headed to a nearby donation center.

When I pulled up to the curb and told the attendant I had several boxes of items, he gestured toward a large bin and said, “You can put your stuff in there.” I set one of the larger boxes next to the container and was about to place one of the smaller ones in the bin when he said, “We don’t accept boxes.”

With that, he stepped forward, picked up the box, and dumped its contents into the receptacle. I could barely contain my horror as I watched all the neatly-folded items tumble out, followed by shoes and kitchen gadgets from the other box. The things I’d used, taken care of, and envisioned transferring in nearly-pristine condition to someone else who could use them were in a jumbled heap on top of the stuff dropped off by the person ahead of me. I almost closed the hatch of my car without unloading the rest of the boxes. And since this is a confession of sorts, I’ll admit there was a bag containing several items my dear mother gave me that I couldn’t bear to see added to the mix. When I got home, I returned them to my daughter’s old closet.

Standing Firm or Barely Standing?

Jesus’ discourse recorded in Matthew chapters 5-7 (often referred to as the Sermon on the Mount) contains some of my favorite verses in the whole Bible, including:

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal,  but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matthew 6:19-21).

Though I haven’t settled on a life verse because I have so many favorites, “Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven” is in the running, so my response at the donation center surprised me. I thought about it for several days, pondering why the dumping of items I’d already decided I didn’t need anymore troubled me so. I think part of it was due to the fact Mom taught me from my earliest days to take care of my things, and seeing them treated so carelessly offended my sense of responsibility. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if my response indicated I was overly attached to my possessions and somehow saw them as an extension of myself. Did I equate mistreatment of my stuff with mistreating me or, worse, dishonoring the memory of the one who’d given it to me?

Faithful Wounds

The Lord used my reaction to enlighten the eyes of my heart. Regardless of the reason for the hurt, angry, incredulous feelings that sprang up as I stood by the curb, their intensity indicated I am more attached to material things than I realized or wanted to admit. After all, Scripture is clear we won’t take any of those things with us when we die (1Timothy 6:6-7).[1]

Though pained by recognizing the gap between reality and how I perceive myself, I’m thankful the Spirit is faithful to point out the discrepancies. Like a trusted friend who speaks the truth in love (Proverbs 27:6a), I can count on Him to reveal my shortcomings in this and other areas (John 14:26).  But unlike a human companion, He also empowers me to make the necessary changes as He continues to sanctify me (Ephesians 1:19-20).

Have you had a heart check lately, a moment when circumstances challenged you to reevaluate how firmly you’re standing in some spiritual discipline or another? If so, rejoice as I did, knowing your conscience is alert and attentive to the prompting of the Spirit, Who is unfailingly transforming us more and more into the image of Christ (2 Corinthians 3:18).   

Dear Lord, thank You for the Spirit’s work in our lives, instructing, reminding, and empowering us. Please help us to be ever-mindful of His promptings as we endeavor to work out our salvation and glorify You in all things (Philippians 2:12-13).

[1] Please see “The Ring” in Archives, August 2018 for more on this subject.

Twiners and Climbers

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

Vines, whether ornamental like clematis and honeysuckle or food-producing like squash and beans, are plants whose stems require support – unless they’re left to trail along the ground because they bear more substantial fare like pumpkins and watermelons.  They use a variety of methods to climb and attach themselves to supporting structures, including twining stems, tendrils, aerial roots, and adhesive disks, also known as holdfasts.[1]

I know I’m showing my plant geek side, but please keep reading. Like so much of God’s creation, these details show how fearfully and wonderfully made everything is and how much care God took when He designed it all. They also offer some spiritual parallels, which I describe in the mini-devotions below.

Tenacious Tendrils

According to Britannica.com, tendrils are plant organs specialized to anchor and support vining stems, distinctive because they possess a strong twining tendency causing them to encircle any object encountered. The article goes on to say that tendrils are sensitive to contact and will turn toward objects they brush against. In time, tendrils grow strong enough to support the weight of the plant.[2] Think curly-cue fishing line, slender but sturdy.

016During a recent reconnaissance walk through my woods, I discovered a patch of passionflower vine. Though it chose to pop up on its own, I was delighted to see it since it’s the food source for caterpillars of Gulf Fritillary butterflies. The petite vine was already sprouting tendrils and reaching out for support. I smiled and shook my head when I found one tiny green appendage wrapped around a leaf lying on the ground. Even though the tendril had a stranglehold on the leaf,  the latter could never help the passionflower rise above the ground.

Tendrils borne on another sprig of vine clutched a more promising, but still less-than-ideal platform, a squat neighboring plant. I fetched a trellis from the garage and returned to the woods, determined to pry the tendril free from the leaf and unwrap those twirled around the unsuspecting coral bells. As I guided them to the trellis, nudging the newly-freed tendrils to grasp the appropriate support, I thought how prone we are to engage in misguided attachments.

Created in the image of the Triune God, we’re relational beings, designed for community. But often, we look to fellow finite sojourners to meet needs only God Himself can fill, overwhelming or alienating them in the process.

Or, worse, we turn to things to sustain us. Though we are meant to worship our Creator, we worship creation instead. At times, our hearts are like tendrils that turn toward whatever they brush against.

Praise God for sending the Spirit, just as Jesus promised (John 14:26). His power raised Jesus from the dead, and that same power is at work within every believer – to change our hearts, to transform us more and more into the image of Christ, and to enable us to walk worthy of our calling (Ephesians 1:19-20; 2 Corinthians 3:18). He is our all-sufficient, strong-enough Support.

Clinging Climbers

203Virginia creeper, a native vine with 5-leaved adult foliage, is sometimes mistaken for poison ivy, because its juvenile foliage frequently has three leaves, like the pesky purveyor of itch-producing oil. Its ability to scale walls and tree trunks thanks to holdfasts that act like sticky toes, reminds me of the tiny lizards I see scampering up the bricks on the front of my house. Though both plant and critter are capable of ascending considerable heights, they’re easy to dislodge.

Earlier this summer, I yanked a Virginia creeper off the side of my daughter’s house. Nourished by plentiful rainfall, it had clambered all the way to the second story and put down roots in the gutter. Nonetheless, a few tugs brought the entire vine tumbling down as its little feet let go of the wall. Unlike the wayward tendrils in the first story, the vine picked a solid underpinning.  But it didn’t have the strength to hold on when adversity came in the form of my pulling.

In 1997, the year my husband Ray died, Christian artist Geoff Moore released his album “Threads,” which concluded with “The Letter.” The lyrics tell of someone ready to give up but encouraged not to do so by the friend who received the letter.  As I struggled to regain my footing after Ray’s sudden death, these words brought hope and comfort:

And when your hand starts to slip
And when you’re losing your grip
And when you know your hope is gone
You’re not the only one holding on[3]

There were many times I had to remind myself God was holding me and would never let go. Jesus said as much: “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand” (John 10:27-29).

We’ve been learning a new-to-us hymn at church, “He Will Hold Me Fast.” I catch myself humming the tune repeatedly while the lyrics play in my mind, offering the same assurance found in the long-ago Geoff Moore song:

When I fear my faith will fail, Christ will hold me fast;
When the tempter would prevail, He will hold me fast.
I could never keep my hold through life’s fearful path;
For my love is often cold; He must hold me fast.

He will hold me fast, He will hold me fast;
For my Saviour loves me so, He will hold me fast.[4]

An assurance that will carry us through this life until we’re called Home and our faith is made sight (1 Corinthians 13:12).

Lord, how I thank You for sending Your Spirit to guide and sustain us, to be our Support as we seek to grow according to your will for us. And I praise You for the precious promise that though our strength may fail, You’ll never let us go. We’re forever safe in Your mighty grasp.

 

[1] https://web.extension.illinois.edu/vines/attachment.cfm:

[2] https://www.britannica.com/science/tendril

[3] “The Letter” lyrics © 1997 Universal Music Publishing Group. Songwriters: Lisa Kainde Diaz / Maya Dagnino / Naomi Diaz / Paula Moore

[4] Ada R. Habersham, “He Will Hold Me Fast,” 1906

Enlightened Eyes

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

I’d opened my Bible study lesson but hadn’t silenced my phone yet. It dinged three times in rapid succession alerting me to incoming text messages, most likely of the group variety.

043My curiosity piqued, I had to look. After all, I hadn’t officially settled into my quiet time. The glance confirmed my hunch. Daughter Jessie sent a photo to me and her older sister, Mary, with the comment, “Fun game! Let me know when you spot it.”

Mary replied without hesitation, “Cool!!!”

I stared at the up-close photo of a tree trunk, admiring the bark, but had to enlarge the image before I found the hidden critter and exclaimed, “That guy is super camouflaged!”

Jessie conceded, “I totally wouldn’t have seen the moth except he was sitting right below a trail blaze (blue rectangles painted around the trail so you can keep track of it) and I had looked up at the blaze just by chance.”

Our pleasant text conversation came to an end and I turned my attention back to the lesson before me, astounded to read, “Unless a power beyond us opens our eyes, we will blindly walk right past the infinite magnificence of God’s treasure. We take for granted the glorious truth in Christ: we are God’s beloved children.” (1)

Talk about an immediate spiritual application of Jessie’s trail blaze experience!

The Apostle Paul, writing to the Ephesians, proclaims, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 1:3).

Paul then goes on to recount those blessings. In Christ we are:

  • Chosen by God before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before Him (vs. 4).
  • Predestined for adoption to himself (vs. 5).
  • Redeemed (vs. 7)
  • Forgiven (vs. 7)
  • Made recipients of the riches of God’s grace, lavished upon us (vs. 7-8)
  • Given wisdom and insight to understand God’s plan of redemption (vs. 9-10)
  • Made heirs (vs. 11-12)
  • Sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, the guarantee of our inheritance (vs. 13-14)

Paul prays for the eyes of their hearts to be enlightened that they may know the hope to which they’ve been called, the riches of God’s glorious inheritance in the saints, and the immeasurable greatness of His power toward those who believe – precisely the same power that raised Jesus from the dead (vs. 18-19a).

Fueled by that kind of power, you’d think we’d be better at living out the reality of all the blessings heaped upon us.  But too often our spiritual sight is clouded by immediate demands, our ears filled with voices clamoring for our attention. The temporal hides the eternal as effectively as the moth’s disguise allowed it to blend into the bark.

Jesus frequently taught in parables, many of which had a connection to plants – sowing, reaping, seasons, soils. When his disciples asked why He used such stories, He replied, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given . . .  Indeed, in their case the prophecy of Isaiah is fulfilled that says: ‘You will indeed hear but never understand, and you will indeed see but never perceive.’ . . .  But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear.” (Matthew 13:11, 14, 16)

Blessed indeed! Jesus came not just to restore sight and hearing to those physically blind and deaf, but to open our spiritual eyes and ears to His message and the evidence of His love all around us. And, when Jesus ascended to heaven, He didn’t leave us as orphans. The Father sent the promised Helper to be our trail blaze (John 14:16-17, 26).

Even so, we must be intentional about seeing and hearing.

Interludes spent in my garden allow me to be still in God’s presence, to deliberately look and listen. Time after time, Jesus’ parables come to life as I dig and prune, weed and water. I stroll my property in search of treasures I imagine God’s tucked lovingly here and there for me to find. Years of practicing these purposeful walks have honed my sight, enabling me to recognize even barely-there plants as they emerge from the soil. How much more should I seek to know the things of God, to perceive the guidance of His Spirit, and to hear His still, quiet voice by becoming intimately acquainted with the treasures found in His Word?

O Lord, how I thank you for lavishing your spiritual blessings upon your chosen ones and for enlightening the eyes of our hearts to understand the magnitude of those blessings. Please help us to be ever-attentive to the leading of your Spirit.

 

(1) Lisa Tarplee,”Hinged, Vitally Connected to Christ and His Church, Women’s Bible Study on Ephesians”, Week 2, CDM Discipleship Ministries, 2020, p. 31.

An audience of One

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

IMG_0024 (2)Mom says she could always tell when I saw her in the audience at one or another of my elementary school concerts. A smile would spread across my face and I would relax, knowing my biggest fan was there. And so it was with my daughters and now my grandchildren. Indeed, wise directors of lower-school productions allow a few minutes before commencing for their performers to connect with those who’ve come to watch. Exchanging waves and grins makes for a cheerful beginning all around.

Truth be told, Mom is still my biggest cheerleader and encourager, the one I can always count on to be in my corner. From her fervent prayers to her interest in every post on this blog, her support is unwavering. I hope my daughters feel that same constancy of care from me.

We never outgrow our need for unconditional love or the assurance we’re accepted, short-comings and all. It’s a rare person who’s immune to the opinions of others, especially those we’re in contact with most. We prefer to be viewed positively by our neighbors, work colleagues, fellow church-goers, classmates and friends. Yet, given our fallen natures, opportunities to reject others and be rejected abound from our earliest years. Childish name-calling and shunning give way in later years to backbiting and various forms of adult exclusion.

We were made for relationship with God and each other. Our innate desire to connect and be well-received may lead us astray or cause us to hide parts of ourselves. Rejection hurts. Misunderstandings wound. If only I could explain – my tribulations, my perspective, my hopes – maybe then they’d comprehend.

No one can fully understand another. At times even our own hearts deceive us.[1] Yet there is One who knows me even better than I know myself. The One who knit me together in Mom’s womb, who wrote each of my days in his book before any came to be, who never loses sight of me.[2] Not only does He know me intimately, He purposed to save me by sending his Son to die for me – the epitome of unconditional love.[3]

Isaiah 53 describes the suffering Savior as “despised and rejected”.[4] Not only did those closest to him misunderstand his mission, hoping for an earthly kingdom, they abandoned him in his darkest hours, first by falling asleep, then by fleeing.[5] Truly, He understands our sorrows.

I recently came across the phrase “audience of one”, as in “Jesus, the One and only, Savior and Lord.” It resonated deeply with me. Even though I would like others’ approval and affirmation, his “well done” is not only sufficient, but supreme.[6] In fact, pleasing the Lord above all others is so important, the Apostle Paul includes reminders in several of his letters. Whether eating, working or serving, whatever we do is to be done for his glory.[7]

When plagued with self-doubt or troubled with a nameless sense of disquiet, I often pray David’s prayer: “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”[8] Though we may be pummeled by differing opinions and challenged by clamoring voices, we have the assurance that his sheep hear his voice.[9] He will show us the way[10] and lead us on level ground.[11]

As we journey forth, precious are those who come alongside to encourage, support and cheer us on, for they give us a glimpse of God’s unconditional love. I am immensely grateful for the life-givers He’s placed along my path. They are among his greatest blessings.

“May our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, encourage (our) hearts and strengthen (us) in every good deed and word.”[12]

[1] Jeremiah 17:9

[2] Psalm 139:1-18

[3] Romans 5:6-8

[4] Isaiah 53:3

[5] Matthew 26:36-56

[6] Galatians 1:10

[7] See, for example, 1 Corinthians 10:13; Colossians 3:17,23; Ephesians 6:7-8

[8] Psalm 139:23-24

[9] John 10:2-5

[10] Isaiah 30:21

[11] Psalm 143:10

[12] 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17

Always remember

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

When anniversaries of momentous days come around, I find I’m able to recall the events in great detail. For example, my wedding day, the birthdays of my daughters and grandchildren, and the day Ray was called Home are all etched in my mind . . . .

. . . as is the day I learned my job had been eliminated.

January 26, 2011 was overcast and chilly, a typical mid-winter day. I was anticipating my annual review at three o’clock that afternoon. My emotions went back and forth between calm and concern throughout the day. To say things hadn’t been going well in the year since I started reporting to a new manager was an understatement. In fact, the situation had deteriorated to the point I told my family I expected to be put on probation or terminated. I’m sure they felt my statement was hyperbole, a by-product of the stress I’d been under. I, however, was most sincere. In looking back, I believe that premonition was a gift, God’s way of preparing me for the news I would hear.

I went to the appointed conference room at the scheduled time. A few minutes later my manager entered, accompanied by her boss. His presence was my first clue this wouldn’t be a normal review. My suspense didn’t last long as my manager said, “I know you’re expecting to have your annual review, but you won’t be having it because your job has been eliminated.” My first thought: “This is real.” My second: “Thank you, Lord, for giving me an absolute answer.” Indeed it was a clear, decisive response to all the prayers for wisdom I and faithful friends had been praying, as I wondered if I should continue working or resign.

I was told the HR manager would be in to explain the details of my termination. Within the hour I’d turned in my computer, my badge and my company credit card. As I drove home, a protective numbness settled in. Just like that, my 30-year career came to an end. I wasn’t even able to say goodbye and there was certainly no opportunity for a retirement party.

The next morning I awoke to a familiar feeling and realized I was in a mild state of shock, not as deep as the one I’d experienced when Ray died suddenly, but a surreal sense of loss nonetheless. A significant part of my life had ended abruptly and was no longer accessible to me.

12-17-2012-me-and-joshua-at-graduation-3-2But my story was far from over. On January 28th, a mere two days after that fateful meeting, I contacted the admissions office at a local technical college and started the enrollment process to study horticulture. Six months later, my first grandchild was born. Joshua was present when I received my Environmental Horticulture diploma in December 2012. Two more grandchildren, Lyla and Emma, have joined our family. My days are full and my interests are many. I am blessed to have meaningful relationships. I am thankful.

When I awoke this morning, there was a tinge of sadness. I wish my career had ended differently. There are co-workers and customers I still miss and remember fondly. But, most of all, on this beautiful sunny day, I hark back across six years and praise God for working all things together for good.[1]

On multiple occasions, God commanded the Israelites to remember what he’d done for them, to tell their children, even to set up memorial stones so they wouldn’t forget his mighty deeds on their behalf.[2] Last week I had the pleasure of a lengthy phone call with a dear friend. Our relationship stretches across 35 years. We’ve known each other long enough and well enough to compare notes on dating, marriage, motherhood and, now, grand-motherhood. We’ve prayed for each other and watched as God’s plan has unfolded for us and our families. And we agree that one of the best things about getting older is having more and more instances to look back on to remind ourselves of all God has done. He is faithful. He keeps his promises. He never forsakes his own.[3]

At three o’clock this afternoon, I recollected how it felt to sit in that windowless conference room and receive the news of my termination. But those memories were quickly eclipsed by recalling all God’s done since. What an adventure he had in store for me!

Though there are times we can’t understand his ways[4], we can always trust him to have a plan – a good and perfect plan.[5]

[1] Romans 8:28

[2] See, for example, Deuteronomy 4:9, Psalm 103:2, Joshua 4 and Deuteronomy 6

[3] Deuteronomy 31:8

[4] Isaiah 55:8-9

[5] Jeremiah 29:11

Clutter

/ Patsy Kuipers / 7 Comments

There’s something about starting a new year that makes me want to clean out and move forward with a lighter load. This year, my desire has been further fueled by the efforts my daughter Mary has made to shed stuff and redecorate her lovely home. It may be her nesting instincts spurring her on or the urgency of needing to help 2-year old Lyla settle into her “big-girl” room before baby Emma arrives. Regardless, seeing what she’s achieved while 7-months pregnant has both inspired me and put me to shame.

I’m a keeper by nature. I find it difficult to part with things that may be useful at some point in the future or were given to me by loved ones. Ok, so that covers a lot of territory. It also explains, for example, why you’ll find lots of buttons in the bottom of my sewing basket – you know the ones that come on shirts, jackets, pants, etc. in case one of the originals ever falls off – and the fact I have every birthday card my girls have ever given me. In spite of my tendency to hold onto things, I don’t consider myself to be a hoarder. After all, there’s plenty of room to walk around in my house without bumping into stacks of old magazines and I’m able to use my garage for its intended purpose.

Nevertheless, every now and then the results of my being a keeper start to wear on me, especially when I get to experience the positive effects of someone else’s house cleaning efforts.

Our living environments aren’t the only thing that can become cluttered, as many of us feel weighed down, even overwhelmed, by to dos associated with the demands of daily living. Joanna Weaver addresses our plight in her book, “Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World”. IMG_0367The story of the two sisters, recorded in Luke 10:38-42, resonates with modern readers even though the events it relates happened almost 2,000 years ago:

As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” (NIV Bible)

A cursory read might lead one to conclude Jesus was condemning Martha’s Type A personality and it’s tempting to stereotype the two sisters, labeling one driven and the other laid back. But our temperaments and abilities are God-given and it takes all kinds of people to accomplish his purposes. No, Jesus wasn’t chiding Martha for her work ethic. He wanted her to realize her focus was off, a message quite similar to the one in Matthew 6 when Jesus told his listeners not to worry about what they would eat, drink or wear, but to seek first his kingdom and his righteousness.

Of everyone who’s ever walked the earth, Jesus alone was capable of “doing it all”, but he didn’t. Instead, he sought to do his Father’s will in all things and to finish the work he’d been sent to do. In Ephesians 2, Paul says believers are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. Isn’t that amazing? Even though God could accomplish everything himself, he allows us to participate in achieving his purposes and equips and enables us to do so.

Too often my mind is cluttered with the demands of the day and my thoughts race from one task to another wondering how I’ll ever get it all done. But more and more, God is reminding me to focus before doing. To seek him and his righteousness. To be still so I can hear him when he says, “This is the way. Walk in it.”

And when I do, He’s faithful to help me determine what is the better part.

Ask

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

When I came downstairs this morning, there was a squirrel wrapped around the bird feeder, trying to figure out how to get to the precious sunflower seeds within. The spring-loaded feeder was doing a good job of protecting its contents, the weight of the squirrel having caused its outer sleeve to drop and close the openings. I raised the window over the kitchen sink and shooed him away, but the sleeve didn’t pop back up. Closer inspection revealed the squirrel’s determined efforts had unhooked one of the springs. I was NOT happy since this had happened once before and I remembered all-too-well how difficult it had been to reattach since the outer sleeve covered the hole where the hook resided when the spring was attached. Furthermore, I knew my feathered friends would soon be arriving for breakfast and I didn’t want them to be disappointed to find their source of food unavailable.

I brought the feeder inside and began to work, discouraged that my initial efforts to reattach the spring proved unsuccessful. As I tugged and fumbled with the hook, I prayed, “Please, Lord, help me fix this! It’s so hard. The birds count on me to feed them. I don’t want them to go hungry.” And then I saw the obvious solution which I’d completely overlooked when the spring was unhooked months ago and again this morning: the hook at the other end of the spring was exposed. All I had to do was unhook it, reattach the one at the end that was covered when the outer sleeve was raised and then reattach the hook at the lower end! Within minutes I’d refilled the once-again-fully-functioning feeder, returned it to its hanger on the deck and watched happily as the birds came for their morning meal.

As I turned to making my own breakfast it hit me: Too many times when faced with a challenge or a problem to solve I launch into self-initiated, self-sustained efforts that often prove frustrating and futile. Yet I have a Father who’s told me to ask when I lack wisdom, when I don’t know which way to go or what the best course of action is. He’s shown me time and again that his promise to instruct me and teach me, to counsel and watch over me is trustworthy.

More and more, may we begin by coming to the One who tells us to ask . . . taking time to be still before Him instead of heading off on our own . . .  confident in the assurance that He always hears us and will lead us in the way everlasting.