“A dear friend of mine who was quite a lover of the chase, told me the following story: ‘Rising early one morning,’ he said, ‘I heard the baying of a score of deerhounds in pursuit of their quarry. Looking away to a broad, open field in front of me, I saw a young fawn making its way across, and giving signs, moreover, that its race was well-nigh run. Reaching the rails of the enclosure, it leaped over and crouched within ten feet from where I stood. A moment later two of the hounds came over, when the fawn ran in my direction and pushed its head between my legs. I lifted the little thing to my breast, and, swinging round and round, fought off the dogs. I felt, just then, that all the dogs in the West could not, and should not capture that fawn after its weakness had appealed to my strength.’ So is it, when human helplessness appeals to Almighty God. Well do I remember when the hounds of sin were after my soul, until, at last, I ran into the arms of Almighty God.”

A. C. Dixon.

A couple of days ago, a friend reminded me that I had shared this story with him. He and I and a friend of his discussed the story and its implications for the Christian.

I decided to paste it in a new post and write about it (I’m glad my former neighbor convinced me to maintain a wiki for personal use, because I quickly found the quote just where I had stored it).

This quote by A.C. Dixon serves as an impetus for me. It encourages, even drives me, to pray. When my comprehension of God’s character brings me to the realization that He is to me just like this man was to the breathless fawn, I am humbled before Him, and led to pour my heart out to him in times of trouble as well as in times of relative tranquility. If the God of the universe waits for me to run to Him and confess that I need Him desperately to save me from all adversity (and I believe that He does wait ever patiently for me), then my only acceptable response is to run to Him and cast all my need at His feet.

I must say that I don’t display the appropriate response as often as I should. How untapped do I leave His resources! The riches of His grace are there, like an artesian well capped on the top. I only need to bow in prayer to remove the cap, and let flow such a flood that I would not be able to contain it.

May I be stirred up more and more to run to Him by thoughts such as the one at the head of this post.

Aren’t children wonderful little machines who seem to endlessly produce profound statements? Consider the following:

If you don’t have anything to say, don’t say it.

It was one I almost missed, since it was so close to the intended saying we often use to redirect “ugly” remarks or negativism. I thank my youngest son, Bradley, for that one.

Amazingly enough, he also provided another very amusing one-liner just the other day. I had mentioned that one of the schools in the district where I work had been evacuated temporarily due to a strong odor (we found out later that it was some kind of chlorine leak).

After hearing me mention the evacuation, he sort of smirked and questioned, “They had to leave because of a strong ogre?” We all laughed. I was impressed with his quick ability to shift gears and shift around the original statement. I have a pretty funny picture in my head now of a bunch of school-children running for their lives. Thanks to the little ones for the funny comments.

James Dickey said that a writer is,

…someone who is enormously taken by things anyone else would walk by…

I read this in a book I found on our shelf in the school room. It is called The Art of Teaching Writing, and it is written by Lucy Calkins. This is one of those books I remember as a “must have” among elementary teachers. Of course, I have never read it cover to cover. The elementary teaching schedule just would not allow it. But I have read it in pieces, a little here, a little there. And what I have read is compelling.

Then (in the elementary days) I read it with a desire to teach others. Now, I read it with a desire to teach myself. I have this passion to write. To communicate well and beautifully. But I often find myself with the same frustrating cry that my fourth graders back in the ’90′s held to with such abandon – “I don’t know what to write.” And so it is. And so it has been.

But this quote above liberates a writer. And at the same time, it commands, “If you are to write, you must notice,” it almost seems to say. It is in the little things each day that mammoth things are written about. I think of William Carlos Williams, and the extravagance he found in the plums or with that wheelbarrow beside the white chickens. Forgive me if this sounds too dramatic, but those simple words just seem to melt my heart and jellify (I know that’s not a word) my legs.

And I think of the John the Apostle, and his elementary language. How the Gospel of John has left me speechless so many times. Just the things John noticed and wrote, seem to act as a lever for me – getting underneath the Scriptures, and heaving them up, that I might look beneath for buried treasure.

So I am left with the desire to do the same. To notice things that others miss. And to write about these things. I am thankful for so many writers before me who have had these same pangs. These that are only relieved by the beauty of simple words.

He was not budget-minded when He determined to save us; He sat not on His throne in Heaven saying, “I would like to save these poor, wretched creatures from their sin so they can go free, and start over with things”; His heart was poised rather to save us and bring us into His family. Can it be fathomed? The object of our disdain; the One we avoided at every turn in our lives before we knew just how He loved us; the One of whom we said in our hearts, “I will not have this Man to reign over me”: this same One devised a plan that was laced and woven with love for us from start to finish. He crafted, like a composer, a glorious symphony, that when played out, would set such tones aloft; such lilting melodies, with the intricate design of a master musician; that we would find ourselves blushing at the thought of being the subject of such labor: we, the ones whose rebellion led His lovely Son to breathe His last on the accursed tree at Calvary. This love so foreign to us would well up within the heart of the Father to the extent that He would desire to call us sons!

The thought of “God’s extravagance” has been bubbling under the surface for me in the last month or so. We were watching a nature show, when the host, while walking through a remote place in a desert region, spotted a singular pink flower a few feet above eye level. His comment was to the effect that the flower showed “God’s extravagance”, in that there are likely millions of flowers positioned in far-away places; far from the eye-sight of any human. And his comment was only in regard to a flower. What of unknown (to us) plant and animal species; or the depths of the ocean that veil discoveries; or the vastness of the cosmos: the impenetrable depths of that which is “out past the edges”?

Initially, my thoughts centered upon His extravagance in creation; then another thought occurred to me: what if we look at this flower, and the other lavishness that we see around us, as fingerprints? What if this One, who gives us all things richly to enjoy, is at work in our lives daily, and we are simply too busy or bothered or indifferent, to notice, or appreciate, this love that would embrace us; envelope us; point us God-ward every moment? Perhaps we would profit and He would be honored more in our lives if we would allow our spiritual antennae to be more active. I know He would help us if we asked.

The power of God creation shows,

His wisdom Nature doth disclose,

But by the Atonement He has shown

His love, which else had been unknown.

When chaos reigned in ceaseless night

His voice was heard: “Let there be light!”

And light without sun, moon, or star,

Outshone and chased the darkness far!

His hand with beauty decked the scene

Which void and shapeless erst had been!

He breathed on Adam’s cold, clay frame,

And man a living soul became!

Was power exhausted as He stood

And, viewing all, pronounced it good?

Or was His wisdom at an end

When Nature’s laws He made to blend,

And caused the worlds through pathless space

Harmoniously to run their race?

And, though in these in vast degree

His wisdom and His power we see,

They are but glimmers, faint and dim -

All power and wisdom are in Him -

But more His love could not have done

Than yielded up His only Son.

William Blane – from The Atonement

I was speaking with a brother at the chapel today, and we began a discussion about the uniqueness of Christianity. Specifically, the conversation centered upon God’s power in comparison with His love. In our limited view of the world, we talked about how it seems that people of other faiths may reject the message of the Gospel due to a certain misunderstanding: that God somehow conceded to diminish His power when He displayed His love.

To put it in further terms, it seems that many in the world are of the opinion that the Gospel message of God allowing His Son to die on the cross for the sins of the world necessitates that any thinking person should reject the message on the following grounds: God cannot be God if He would allow His own Son to be subjected to such abuse. The suggestion of weakness on God’s part seems to create a problem in the minds of those who doubt the Gospel’s credibility.

Fascination with absolute power may be the culprit here. Maybe our minds have difficulty reconciling the existence of power and love in one person. We ordinarily characterize people by either their strength or by their tenderness, but not a combination of the two. Our three-pound brains try to recompute when we are faced with the possibility that God holds absolute power, and that He is Love itself. “How do these two fit in the same person?” we ask.

So, we conclude that some folks struggle with the thoughts mentioned above. The poem at the head of the post presents a beautiful thought that is worth considering. I am in awe of this thought that His wisdom and power were not exhausted by the creation; that He created all according to His ability, and not out of His ability. We cannot view God as one who has all His power stored in a bank of some sort, and that when He has need of it, He must make a withdrawal; nor should we assume that each withdrawal reduces His power. He is eternally omnipotent!

His Love is contrasted with His power in this way: although He could endlessly display His power to us in a myriad of ways, His love shown to us at the cross is the grand pinnacle of all pinnacles. There is no higher expression of love than what we see in this Man left alone to die for our sins. There is nothing more for God to say on the matter. He pulled out all the stops, so to speak.

May God bless you as you consider the One who loved you to death.

I have been praying a lot about financial things. The majority of these prayers have been focused upon attaining a job that will sufficiently replace the income gained through the mowing of lawns. Don’t get me wrong. I still love to sweat and everything, but the allergies are driving me crazy. It’s like I’ve spent the last six years in a dust and grass storm, and my body is rejecting any more of it.

And so, the prayer was answered. I got a job at a local tutoring center, and I think it will really work out for me. The center will give more hours during the summer, and less during the school year. Perfect fit! From a Perfect God. I’m just amazed at His response to my prayers. It makes me think of a couple of favorite verses:

The LORD is good, a strong hold in the day of trouble…

Nahum 1:7

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights…

James 1:17

It’s just a job. Grass grows, birds fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up.

~ Muhammad Ali ~

Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work

Aristotle

Nice quote to exercise my thinking about what step is next. Wherever it is, there should be pleasure in it. Still considering…

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox

and which you were probably saving for breakfast

forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet and so cold

William Carlos Williams

I teetered and tottered and mulled over in my mind just how I should start this entry to you, my lovely bride of almost 18 years. “How shall I express to her how thankful and blessed I feel to have and to hold such a Life-filled girl/lady/mom/love-of-my-life…,” I asked myself. I wanted to say in a beautiful way how much I have enjoyed the last twenty years, and how much I look forward to 20 more as the LORD gives.

We talked just today about how significant words have been to us in our life together, and I gave that some thought.

FIRST, we were given life each one through the Living Word, the Lord Jesus Christ. Even the world could not contain the books that could be written about all his loveliness, but how fulfilling it is to dwell upon Him, and try to exhaust the inexhaustable WORD. For these TWENTY years, He has led us with His sweet and powerful WORD.

Secondly, our relationship grew and was nurtured by many letters written back and forth when nearness was impossible. How much like the sweet smell of a rose were those letters received when distance was an obstacle.

Thirdly, I remember a time when your love of corniness and word play was not a love I shared. And now…I think I’ve been led captive.

Fourthly, how many t-shirts have we penned in our minds in those late-night weird-mooded laughing fests? I hoped that those nights/mornings would never end. We may never actually make a penny on any of those ideas, but it’s been so fun thinking up the next great shirt!

Fifthly, our poetry to one another has been sweet. HOWEVER…I think you owe me one. A really long, juicy, poem, that brings a single tear to my eye – “if that’s possible,” I hear you saying it now.

And what about this new version of our card ceremony – now electronic?

I know I could go on and on, but I should get to the punch line.

I chose a poem – this poem – because of how much I love you, and of how much I love William Carlos Williams’ poetry, and of how much it communicates a secret we have held together in these many years. The secret is forgiveness. This is not the only secret, I know, but how amazingly important this secret has been to us!

There have been times when we accidentally hurt one another. And there have been times when we (I’m sorry to say) have purposely hurt one another. Now, here we stand together, because of God’s grace and forgiveness. I publicly confess – apart from salvation through Jesus Christ, I rifle through my mind and memories to find only you as the single-most significant thing that has ever overtaken me.

And you have overtaken me with your kindness, and with your love, and with your selflessness, and with your forgiveness. What shall I say, other than, “Thank you!” Thank you for twenty love-filled years and your promise to stand by me no matter what may come. You have blessed me, and I thank you.

Your husband – bc

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Jesus Christ

My God, my God, why have you accepted me?

Andrew Peterson

I will add to this later, but I posted so as not to forget. This combination of quotes really floored me last night while driving home and listening to Andrew Peterson.

So now is later.

It is now about a week since I began this post. Despite the time that has passed, my thoughts are still on this “great exchange” that is expressed in the above quotes. Usually I adhere to the adage – “strike while the iron is hot”, but I never tire from considering the One who took my place so I might take His place.

He Was Forsaken

There on the tree, Jesus was left alone. He was nailed on a piece of wood, and lifted up – symbolically rejected by mankind. He came only with love in His heart for His creatures, and “His own received Him not”. They said, “we have no king but Caesar,” and “we will not have this Man to reign over us”. There was no ambivalence in their intentions. No clarification was needed. Jesus was unwanted by the human race.

But as painful as it was to be rejected in this way, it was not to be compared to the deep sting He felt the moment His Father turned His eyes away from His precious Son. In Zechariah, there is a remarkable verse that expresses the Father’s thoughts – “Awake, oh sword, against my shepherd, and against the one that is my fellow.”

This One who was daily the delight of the Father was cut off in an instant. But why?

The answer is a solemn one because of the way it makes us squirm. It is like the feeling the little kid gets when he realizes that it really was him who broke the window when he hit the baseball over the house. The reason the Father forsook the Son is because of OUR sin. Our disobedience toward the God of the universe is what put Jesus Christ on the cursed tree. In order for us to go free and enjoy forgiveness of sins, someone had to die in our place. And not just any death would suffice.

The only sacrifice acceptable in God’s sight was a spotless sacrifice. A lamb without blemish is what God required of His people in the days of old, and this pointed forward to the cross. There was only One who could pay for our sins. And it was Christ, for He was the only sinless Man who ever walked on this earth.

And now we are led to this place of acceptance.

We Are Accepted

There is not much left to say. He died the death that we should have died. He became a curse for us, and we have reaped the benefit of that act of love. It is just like the story of Abraham and Isaac. Abraham obediently followed God’s command to offer up his son as a sacrifice to God. Just when Abraham was positioned to plunge the dagger into Isaac’s chest, God’s voice could be heard “out of heaven”. To Abraham’s delight, God “provided” a replacement for Isaac – a ram caught in the thicket was put in Isaac’s place, and Isaac went free with his life. And so have we.

This only serves to place more emphasis on our cry, “My God, my God, why hast thou accepted me?” It boggles the mind to think that we could ever stand forgiven in God’s eyes. King David shared our puzzlement when he said to God, “Who am I?” It is where every believer stands before God, and it is a blessed place to stand – the place of forgiveness.