Gospel Reflections

Reclaiming #Blessed

~ Ami ~ 3 Comments

HgZuGu3gSD6db21T3lxm_San-ZenoneBlessed. It’s a word that often makes my skin crawl.

“I’m so blessed.” I cringe at the statement, hoping no one else can see the involuntary shudder.

Blessed is a perfectly biblical word, so what’s the big deal? Aren’t you being cynical? Surely, you’re just bitter because others have what you want.

Yes, sometimes it’s hard to rejoice, but there’s no cynicism here.

I cringe because “blessed” seems to be merely a trend, a cliche, another word hijacked of its rich meaning.

#blessed…

“We just closed on our new house. #blessed”
“What a beautiful baby! #blessed”
“Praise God! My husband got a big promotion. #blessed”
“My awesome hubby just gave me the most gorgeous just because flowers. #blessed.”

Yes, blessed indeed.

“I just got diagnosed with cancer. #blessed”
“I’m so lonely I could scream. #blessed”
“We lost it all in an instant. #blessed”
“My husband died. #blessed”

Blessed? In these circumstances? I can see your mind reeling…

You’ll want to read the rest. Check out the full post at Intentional By Grace

Join me. #ReclaimBlessed

God gives bread, not stones.

~ Ami ~ 12 Comments

change definitionShe stood in worship overcome with emotion, seeing her dreams played out in the lives of others. Not just any dreams, they were the ones closest to her heart–the dreams. But the joy she had for her friends was real. Her excitement wasn’t false.

Still it hurt. Sometimes joy and sorrow mingled in a dance between emotion and choice. Sometimes it was hard to “rejoice with those who rejoice.” Sometimes the woman wondered when people would rejoice with her instead of weep.

“Why does it feel like I’m the only one with unfulfilled dreams? Why does everyone else receive good gifts?” The thought came unbidden. She’d placed her dreams at Jesus’ feet over and over, and knew it was the best place for them.

“Lord take my plans. They’re yours. Do with them what you will. I want you more than these. Your dreams for me are better.”

She meant it. The surrender was real. But it wasn’t a one-time, magical act, for so quickly did her grubby, little hand reach down and take them back. She wrestled with her emotions, and remembered that sometimes, one must choose to rejoice.

A song played softly in the background.

“All to Jesus I surrender, all to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust Him, in His presence daily live.

All to Jesus I surrender; humbly at His feet I bow,
Worldly pleasures all forsaken; take me, Jesus, take me now.”

Did anyone else recognize the gravity of those words? Did she even believe them? Did she know that Jesus was enough when someone else received the gift she longed for?

Tenderly, she responded. “Yes Lord, this is true. You are enough. Again, I open my hands to you. Again I place my dreams before you.”

Later she weighed the thought she’d had, “Why does it feel like I’m the only one with unfulfilled dreams?”

“Open your eyes. Look up. Lift up your head and observe.”

Another month came and went. Another month a friend faced the disappointment of childlessness. 

Someone’s father battled cancer. 

Others longed for the intimacy of marriage. 

Another lost a job. 

A pastor and his wife bled for their church.

A woman wept quietly, grieving the child she wouldn’t get to hold. Miscarriages are often lonely things.

A marriage crumbled; a husband unfaithful.

And so the woman understood that longing and unfulfilled dreams were all around her. Her thinking was faulty, her perspective distorted. She wasn’t the only one who thought bread was really stone.

“For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and the one who knocks it will be opened. Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread will he give a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him” (Matthew 7)

When a son needs eggs and fish, will his father give him serpents and scorpions? (Luke 11)

No good father would do such a thing.

She chose to plant her mind firmly in truth. She took an active stance, and talked to herself rather than merely listened. And this is what she said.

God is good and does good. He does not give stones to His children.

She said it again. He does not give stones to His children!

Therefore, unfulfilled dreams and unmet expectations are bread. As a refiner’s fire creates purified, costly silver, so do unfulfilled dreams accomplish God’s purpose– that His children be conformed to the image of His Son. (Romans 8)

She needed Jesus to change her definition of what is good, of what is bread.

If God went so far to give the Bread of Life, His own Son, will He not always give bread to those He loves and calls His own? If earthly fathers give good gifts to their children, how much more does a perfect, all-powerful, all-knowing, all-wise Father give good gifts?

So, she rejoiced with those who rejoice. She thanked Her Father for good gifts. She thanked Him for unmet expectations and unfulfilled dreams. She thanked Him for bread that makes her more like Christ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Clumsy, Broken Thing

~ Ami ~ 4 Comments

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18 

I’m really clumsy.

If you knew me, you’d laugh because that’s an understatement.

I call the phenomena “Drop the book.” It’s like my brain decides, “You’re done holding that. Drop the book.” Then the book falls. It’s real.

I have a friend who calls me “Trip,” not because I’m funny.

And I think there are things in life that happen only to me. I mean, it takes a special person to cause a spectacular splatter of gooey chocolate all over her wall and stove.

Once I accidentally flushed $150 down the toilet. You don’t even want to know.

Most of the time I just laugh at myself.

After some manifestation of my clumsiness, my husband always cupped my chin in his hand, grinned, and said, “Oh Lovee, what am I going to do with you?”

“Just love me,” was my coy reply.

A friend told me that it really is a cute elegance. I’ll go with that.

I also break things, but not on purpose.

It always seems to be something with memories attached, though–a coffee mug my husband and I bought on vacation–a hand-painted spoon rest from when we were dating.

On our first anniversary I even broke one of our personalized wedding flutes. You can imagine the tears. We never got around to replacing it either.

To date I haven’t broken a dish in anger, but I’ll admit, when Jon died I often wished a box of cheap dishes would magically appear so I could smash them to the floor.

And had they appeared, I’m almost certain they would have ended up in smithereens.

Even then I had sense enough not to hurl the Fiestaware.

Recently I broke my special spoon rest…again. I don’t remember how I broke it the first time, but I’m sure I was distraught and Jon his usual calm. We carefully fixed it with super glue, and its flaw was barely noticeable.

I think I’ll be able to mend it again, but I this time the scar will show. When memories are all that’s left, a shattered one pierces that much deeper.

So, I’ve been thinking about how God speaks of broken things.

Often being broken is a mark of humility or surrender.

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God you will not despise.” Psalm 51:17

I’ve been broken so many times. The process is painful, but it’s a sweet brokenness that teaches me to understand the fierceness of God’s tenderness. He draws near the broken hearted.

Being broken and restored also reminds me of Kintsukuroi, a Japanese repair method that infuses broken pottery with gold. How ironic that the shards are mended with scars of gold! The result– a piece far more exquisite and costly, not in spite of the scars but because of them.

In other places, broken things represent extravagant love.

“…as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head.” Mark 14:13

A familiar story, but don’t lose its radiance.Ultimate broken thing

A woman, identified elsewhere as Mary the sister of Lazarus, took a flask of ointment worth almost a year’s wages, broke it (for there were no screw tops in those days), and used all of it to anoint Jesus.

Others around the table were outraged at her ridiculous waste and flagrant behavior.

But her broken thing was an avenue for lavish affection and worship. She knew what was most important.

Finally, sometimes God combines these three: humility, scars, and extravagant love.

They intersect in the ultimate “broken thing,” Jesus.

He humbled himself even to death on the cross. Now alive, He bears the scars as a mark of His extravagant love.

He heals broken things. He mends them with something much more valuable than gold.

I marvel that He loves this clumsy, broken thing.

Father thank you for spiritual brokenness. Thank you for bringing me often to a place of surrender and humility. Keep my heart ever tender before you. Use my brokenness to manifest your extravagant love. I have scars, but you heal them with something more precious than gold, that is, Yourself. 

This post appeared first at A Widow’s Might.

 

In Praise to My Creator

~ Ami ~ 5 Comments

butterfly-blue-the-free_125891-2I used to teach kindergarten and we always did a unit on insects. Ever seeking to increase their vocabularies, I delighted to teach these babies a giant, “delicious” word.

Metamorphosis.

How adorable it was to hear such a word repeated with lisps and missing Rs.

“Metamorphosis means to be changed into something totally new.”

“Now hold on a minute,” says the skeptic. “Another butterfly story? I mean, what an overused cliche!”

Keep reading dear skeptical friend. Perhaps this one has a twist.

My class eagerly watched our caterpillars eat, and eat, and eat. Of course, we read The Very Hungry Caterpillar. One day, we arrived to five tiny chrysalides attached to the top of the habitat. Then the waiting began. Boy was it hard. Every day my littles checked for progress. Every day they asked, “When will we have butterflies?”

They gazed in anticipation. But in childish clumsiness, one chrysalis was knocked to the bottom of the cage.

“Oh no! It will probably die.”

Finally, after what seemed like forever, there was one butterfly. The next day there were two.

On the third day an excited, little voice squealed, “Mrs. Atkins! One is coming out now!” We crowded around to see, and to my surprise, it was the one I thought had died.

He wasn’t dead, just knocked down.

The struggle was intense. Lying on the bottom of the habitat, his fight was radically more difficult than that of his brothers. He had to battle for his very existence. We watched mesmerized, and I couldn’t voice the heavy thoughts forming behind teary eyes.

“He’s not going to make it. It’s too difficult. He was knocked down too far.”

“Oh God! This is me. I’m not going to make it.”

5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15 minutes.

He finally emerged, wings crumpled as if broken.

“How fitting. He lives, but is severely wounded, damaged forever.”

How utterly shocked was I when the butterfly finally unfolded his gorgeous, perfect wings in praise to his Creator! The significance was not lost.

That’s me. I was knocked to the bottom of the cage, but God transformed my broken, twisted frame into something marvelous.

I left my assistant in charge, and had to take a moment to collect myself.

“My precious daughter, you will not be damaged beyond repair. Through Jesus I’ve already transformed you. You are perfect in my eyes. Though the struggle is intense, I’m producing something gorgeous, something you cannot even comprehend.”

Do you ever feel like you’ve been knocked down too far? Do you think you are damaged beyond repair?

Then hear these words of truth. Let them resonate deep within.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a NEW creation. The old has passed away; behold the new has come.” 2 Corinthians 5:17

If you are redeemed by the finished work of Jesus, you are NEW. You are being transformed to be like Him, but you are also ALREADY transformed.

“We went through fire and water, yet you have brought us out to a place of abundance.” Psalm 66:12

You may have been through fire and water. Perhaps like me, you long for the place of abundance. Well, it’s already here. Jesus is the abundant place. Because you are transformed, abundance is not circumstantial. You are in Christ.

Sometimes I find myself lying on the bottom of the cage, but still I have gorgeous, perfect wings to open in praise to my Creator.

My dear Father, I praise you that true transformation is not cliche, but rather reality. By your Son, I am new. By the Spirit I have life and power. Teach me to view myself as you view me. Precious. Beautiful. Covered by Christ. Remind me of my identity. I was broken, but now I am whole. I get knocked down, but you will not let me be destroyed. I praise you.

This post by Ami, appeared first at anewseason.net

Adoption and the County Fair

~ Ami ~ 7 Comments

fair 2My in-laws love the county fair. It’s one of their FAVORITE family traditions. Did I emphasize favorite?

They don’t just go one day, but every day. They love planning out their fair food- kabobs, corn on the cob, elephant ears, turkey legs, cherry limeade, tacos, donuts…

When I came into the family, I readily embraced this tradition. Bring on the fair food!

I remember my first time at the fair with the Neff clan. It was the Sandwich Fair, in Sandwich Illinois. I was a little disappointed there were no free sandwiches. But I digress.

Jon and I had been dating several months and it came time to bring me home to meet the family. I already loved him, but I quickly fell in love with them too.

I loved experiencing their joy over something so simple as the county fair.

Jon’s sister, Megan, was 14 at the time. Of course we had to ride the Zipper. I found out later that as soon as the ride started, Jon and his mom had a conversation…

“So? What do you think? Do you like her?”

“What’s not to like? She’s lovely.”

Then eyeing him with a look that only moms have, “You better not mess this up.”

How those words make me smile.

I think I got to have five county fairs with Jon and the whole family. Then Mom and Dad Neff moved away. And then Jon died. It was not the same. A place that had been fill only with joy, now met me with tears.

But this we year got to go to the fair again! How we laughed, and reminisced. It was just “right” to be there with them again. My mother-in-law even gave me a quarter to feed the animals. Happy. As we relished our fair food and took in the sights, my thoughts turned to adoption.

Adoption? Well there are some more things you need to know…

Jon understood the beauty of two sets of parents. His first mom was a type one diabetic to whom the doctors said, “If you have children, it will kill you.”

Yet she was a believer in Jesus. When she knew she was pregnant, to end a life was not an option.

She spent months of her pregnancy hospitalized. During that time she kept a journal for her unborn son, Jonathan. I have this journal, and it’s a touching link to a lady I never got to meet. Her love of Christ leapt from the page.

The doctors were right. Having a child debilitated her. When Jon was five, his mom had her first stroke. He quickly learned to dial 911.

Eventually, she died after multiple strokes and after having both legs amputated. Jon was 14.

In Jon’s words, he learned how to love by watching his dad lavish affection on a wife who was an invalid for years. Jon said his dad always adored her. I can’t wait to meet that man someday. and thank him! For I was the beneficiary of those lessons in love. Lavish, extravagant love.

I so wish I had gotten to meet Mom and Dad Atkins, to know the parents my husband cherished so dearly. Some day I will!

But, Jon’s dad also died. At 19, he was alone.

Astonishingly though, God was up to something new and marvelous: giving him another family. Before he died, Jim asked his pastor to watch over his son.

“Would you help him stay out of trouble? Will you see him through college?”

So the Neff family prayed. “Can we take on such a role?

By grace they said yes. They packed up a grieving, rebellious teenager and welcomed him home. My mother-in-law has said, “Even then I knew it would be more. I knew he wasn’t going to walk out of our lives after college.”

So they adopted a son. And Jon got another mom and dad, two brothers, a sister, a dog, and a cat. Another family to cherish. His brother Ben jokes that Jon held the world record for longest sleepover.

“I used to go over to Jon’s house, but the one time I asked him over to mine, he ended up staying for 12 years!”

They went through some crazy rough times together. At times he made them angry. At times he broke their hearts. But a miraculous, beautiful thing was forming. Another son. Part of the family.

They played such a huge, indispensable role in the man he became.

At our wedding, Jon couldn’t help but be choked up about the beauty of adoption. Through example, his second parents taught him the reality of an even greater adoption.

Jesus accomplished the greatest adoption. His death and resurrection brought His own into the family!

As Mom and Dad Neff chose Jon, so God adopts His chosen ones. He makes them part of His family, as sons and heirs. His love is lavish.

Ever since that first county fair, I have understood adoption too. I have a beautiful family, but I also have a second family.

“Ami you’re stuck with us. We’re not going anywhere. Jon may not be here with us anymore, but you are still ours. You are still family.”

Praise God for adoption. Praise God for an even greater adoption!

Adoption, one of the most tender facets of the gospel, causes me to marvel at the love of God.

I am a daughter of the King. I’m a child of the Most High. I’m an heir with the Son. My Father has every resource at His disposal. Because I’m in the family, I am never alone. My Father will only ever do good to me.

Who knew the county fair could produce such magnificent thoughts?

first fair10564483_10152315309713269_1566809494_o

Life or LIFE?

~ Ami ~ 2 Comments

IMG_20140628_201906752A couple weeks ago I was soundly beaten at the game of LIFE. However, my nine year old friend would surely admit it was a “cheater’s game.” But despite the loss, I’d say LIFE still ended pretty well for me. I mean a husband, two sets of twins, $90,000 a year salary, a dutch colonial home, and a lovely retirement at Millionaire Acres—what else could a person ask for?

Wouldn’t it be nice if life was like LIFE?

I pondered this as we spun the dial and took our chances.

Well, if life was like LiFE I’d be able to see the whole board. I’d get to look down a fork in the path and make a decision based on a desired outcome. Sure there would be some risks, but the end of the game is almost always desirable. Pitfalls exist in the game of LIFE, but I couldn’t see any real tragedies. A tree may fall on my house, but hey I have insurance so all is well! It’s a quick, easy fix with zero emotional turmoil.

There are no stillbirths, no terminal illnesses, no adultery, no death. And at the end of the game the one with the most money wins.

Yep, LIFE would be good.

Or would it?

It didn’t take long for me to answer with an emphatic no.

If life was truly like LIFE existence would be futile. A good retirement? You’re telling me that’s it? There’s nothing else. All the toys and riches would fade at death. That’s the end.

Life would be shallow, one dimensional without the beauty of complex emotions and devoid of depth and meaning.

It would presuppose that I am God. Or that luck is God. When I’m honest with myself, how utterly hopeless I would be without a Sovereign King who reigns over all! How overwhelmed I would feel with the responsibility to control everything.

Also, I’ve known deep love. And I would never trade it for a simple mapped out, easy path.

But what about sorrow? Yep, I’d keep that too. It’s fire that makes silver a precious metal, refined and purified.

I would rather have all the unknowns, the unexpected twists, the feelings of being out of control, the disappointments, the grief, the turmoil…

the tears, the longings, the frustrations

the JOY

the happiness, the purpose, the delights, the comfort, the rest, the peace

that comes from knowing I am not God.

No, I would not want life to be like LIFE.

For I have a God with whom it is impossible to compare a mere spin of the wheel. I have a God who is sovereign (ruling, in control) over every domain.

I have His words given to me.

“It will happen as I have planned. It will come about according to My purposes…I have a plan for the whole earth, for My mighty power reaches throughout all the world. The Lord Almighty has spoken—who can change His plans? When His hand moves who can stop Him?” (Isaiah 14:24, 26-27)

Not my plans, but those of the Sovereign God who reigns.

But how do I know I can trust such a one?”

Because God came to us. He who knew no sin became sin, that I might become righteous. God doesn’t say come up the preverbal mountain! He came down it instead.

I trust Him because of who He is.
I trust Him because I know HIm.
I trust Him because of what He accomplished.
I am able to trust Him because of the power of the cross of Christ.

“Make me to know your ways O Lord… All your paths are steadfast love and faithfulness.” (Psalm 25)

For the redeemed in Christ, whatever the path, whatever the joy and sorrow, whatever the longings, frustrations, and turmoil, we can rest in knowing they are under the cover of His steadfast love and faithfulness.

So give me real life with all its messiness. This is not the end.

I’ll take the confident expectation that one day Jesus will return, heaven will come to earth, and all will be made new.

Every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. And after this the judgment.

I will stand before God with Christ before me, the One who already took my place.  What a fearful thing if not.

Give me real life found only in Jesus. Give me eternity with Him.

And there will be no stillbirths, no terminal illnesses, no adultery, no death.

Yep, I’d take life over LIFE any day.

 

 

 

When sorrow hits: Getting the truth in.

~ Ami ~ 1 Comment

“I lay in a heap, crumpled on the bathroom floor, sobbing. The pain was wave upon wave, crushing me, threatening to drown me in its intensity. I was not pregnant…”

No one is exempt from sorrow. It comes in many forms- wayward children, illness, death, financial struggle, you name it. But when life is turned up-side-down, how can we take hold of truth?

For the rest of the story check out my guest post at intentionalbygrace.com!

Satisfied. Truth for my “new singleness”

~ Ami ~ 13 Comments

jeremiah 31 3It was a summer day in 2005. I sat on my apartment floor crying out to God. “Lord please, you’ve got to change me. I want to know that you satisfy. I want to know that you are enough even if I never marry. I want to say that I’m ok with that.” I was 23. I had just returned from a wedding weekend as a bridesmaid. I had been surrounded by couples. There was the couple getting married, the couple married for a year, the dating couple, my best friend who got engaged on the way to the wedding, and then there was me. Single without any prospects. At the time 23 and single seemed ancient. I smirk at myself just a little.

Nonetheless, I was deeply struggling. I was the girl who had wanted nothing more than to get married. I knew it was an obsession, and I knew it had become my idolatry— the thing I had to have to make life work, the thing that without it I could not be happy. I dreamt of a home and a family, but instead I was alone and in grad school, a plan I’d never wanted.

On my knees I pled for help. And God met me there and began to radically shape my understanding of His love. So clearly illumined was Jeremiah 31:3.

“Yea I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.”

I’ve since come to adore it in several translations.

“I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore, I have continued my faithfulness to you.”

“I have loved you my people with an everlasting love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself.”

As I considered the verse, I journaled “Everlasting love. Always without end and without fail. You’ve drawn me, Lord? But still love seems so stoic.” I pulled out the giant Strong’s Concordance (no online tools in those days), and looked up the Hebrew word for love. I was astonished.

“with ardent and vehement desire, with tender affection and emotion, with great delight for the one loved.” 

This is how you love me God? This is how you view me?

“Ami you want a man to love you this way, but this is how I love you.”  With clarity the Spirit made His word alive.

The catalyst sparked and grew into enormous flame.

God’s loved for me was not business-like. It was not without emotion. He desired me to be with Him. He delighted in me. His love was vehement. It was fervent, fierce, powerful, intense, earnest, zealous, enthusiastic, and passionate!

I never knew that before.

At that time I’d been a believer for 9 years. I knew Jesus had died for me, and knew He was my Savior. But I never really comprehended the true manifestation of His love. I was trapped in an “earning favor with God” mentality. I knew I couldn’t earn salvation, but I thought that by reading my Bible, serving at church, and all the rest, God was somehow more pleased with me. I thought that in my failures He was less delighted with me. I thought His love was stoic.

I had never known the emotion my Lord has for me. I didn’t understand that on my worst days, He loved me no less, and on my best days no more. For, He already gave me the full measure of His love. I didn’t understand that His sacrificial love was inherently mingled with delight.

So God began to teach me He was enough. Over the next several years He taught me to treasure Him more than marriage. I never reached the illusive “magic state of complete contentment in which God can now bring the one,” but I did learn to love what God was doing right then. I did learn that I was not waiting for life to begin.

I’m still learning.

Who knew I had quite a few years of singleness left and a broken engagement before I would marry my beloved? Who knew I would experience a different type of singleness, called widowhood?  Who knew that words like Ms, move on, and single adult would cause stinging pain when I thought I’d never hear them again?

“Lord, so beautifully you reminded me of the verse that changed me almost 10 years ago. So beautifully you reminded me of its precious truth. Your love is fervent and zealous. You are jealous for my affection. How drastically you changed my perception of you! Keep changing my faulty perceptions. It still overwhelms me that you love me so! Your faithfulness is astounding. Thank you for drawing me to you. In this new singleness, these words are still true.”

“with ardent, vehement desire. with tender affection and emotion. with great delight for the one loved.”

This is the love that truly satisfies. This is the way my husband could not fully love me. His love for me was great, but nevertheless imperfect. This is the love that is more than enough, even in widowhood, a plan I never wanted. This is God’s love for His people.

With unfailing love Jesus sought me. With unfailing love He bought me.

“And they shall be radiant over the goodness of the Lord… and my people shall be satisfied with my goodness declares the Lord.” (Jeremiah 31)

Satisfied.

HE is the Spring!

~ Ami ~ 3 Comments

IMG_20140419_164847For this southern girl, winter in northern Illinois is especially brutal. Snow is endless. The wind is a torrent of frigid blasts that chills to the very core. The trees are barren and naked, all signs of life snatched from them. For months the world exists only in shades of black and white. The sky is diluted, a watercolor with too much water and not enough paint. The sun is forever hidden behind a wall of impenetrable gray. Sorrow, discouragement, and despair run rampant through humanity, magnified by the bleakness of the weather outside.

I have learned what it is to long for spring.

Eagerly I awaited the return of birds, and green, and sun, and warmth. Just when it seemed we were to be forever enslaved by the White Witch, a robin flitted across the sky! A daffodil pushed its way upward, blooming defiantly in the face of snow. Spring! It does exist! The landscape here has yet to fully explode in its array of colors, but it is coming. As sure as the sun rises and sets, so will dormant trees produce the fresh green of budding leaves.

In winter the earth lay silent, waiting, clinging to the figment of green hidden deep beneath the snow. In winter my soul lay silent, waiting, clinging to the hope that life and love and beauty would come again.

But I’m caught between winter and spring, I think. One word the Holy Spirit impresses on my heart. Wait. So I wait with bated breath. The branch is not dead, just pruned severely. Tentatively, new growth begins to blossom. I wait. I believe the colors will be vibrant and the fruit lush. Eagerly I await. What’s next God? Perhaps there will be spring. “Produce what is most beautiful to you Lord.”

Winter, in due time, will come again. Yet I am not afraid. Without winter, there would be no spring. Without death, there is no resurrection. It’s winter that taught me my desperate need.

I have learned what it is to long for Jesus.

And so also on that fateful Saturday between the cross and the resurrection, all creation lay silent, waiting, holding its collective breath. Had the powers of hell prevailed? Would He rise again as He said?

The dark of night is greatest just before the dawn. All hope was lost. The Savior was dead, apparently not really the Savior at all.

But wait. As Sunday crept over the horizon, light eradicated the darkness. Life burst forth from barren trees! Colors spread through a world painted gray! “Up from the grave He arose, with a mighty triumph o’er His foes!” As the new life of spring erupts from the death of winter,  so did Jesus rise. He arose the Victor.

He is the Spring.

Go ahead paparazzi. Take your pictures.

~ Ami ~ Leave a comment

When I read the final paragraphs of Romans 7, I imagine paparazzi camped outside my house drooling like hyenas, waiting to pounce on some indecency or incriminating action. The chapter leaves me feeling exposed. It’s like the Holy Spirit simulcasts live feed from my mind to the pages of Scripture. “Next on E! News, the real Ami Atkins. Sweet and gentle on the outside. Savage war raging within.” I don’t do what I want to do. I do do what I don’t want to do. I delight in God, but evil lurks close beside. There’s a war in my mind, and sometimes the enemy holds me captive with his lies. Oddly, these thoughts cause great hope. For in God’s omniscient wisdom, Paul as he was inspired by the Holy Spirit, recorded this very struggle within the infallible Word. It’s like music to my ears. The guy who wrote most of the New Testament and took the gospel to the known world struggled the same way I do. I’m not crazy. Like all believers I’m caught between the already and the not yet. I’m already a new creature, but I am not yet glorified. Sin still wages war in my physical body. I’ve experienced grace upon grace, yet I struggle. Ok, so let me unpack a few reasons to hope. In Christ I am free to struggle. Whereas I could only submit to sin, now I can stand up and fight! Taking that a step further, the presence of my inner battle reaffirms that I truly belong to Jesus. Taking one step more, the raging war in my mind is already won. Christ is already the victor. The one who rescued me once and for all, rescues me from the war within. It reminds me of a song we sing sometimes at worship gathering.

“There’s a peace to settle your soul There is a peace that is calling you home Youʼve been tempted and shaken, tested and failed Youʼve been so far from Jesus, too close to hell Your visionʼs been clouded by this worldʼs delight But I tell you youʼre not of this world so stand up and fight Youʼre not of this world so stand up and fight There is a peace to settle your soul There is a peace that is calling you home There is a peace to settle your soul There is a peace perfect and true The Prince of Peace is calling for you…”

There is a Peace, Sojourn

The Prince of Peace. He is my true delight. In him I stand and face the battle of the “not yet.” In him I find refuge from the war within. So paparazzi, take all the pictures you want. There’s nothing to hide.