Drink Deep

As I think about how I am to begin practicing the goodlife I figure it might be helpful to pick a focus. 

I choose to consider taste.  In hind sight, I’m not sure why I pick taste other than perhaps it is something to do with the way my Little Love has been putting things into her mouth with such relish lately.

In the living room, she spots a piece of lint on the floor that fell from the laundry basket or was tracked in on a foot and grins big before quickly shoving it into her mouth.  She does all this lightning quick, before I have time to pluck it from her little hand.  That edge of the carpet that has been pulling away from the kitchen threshold?  Yeah…she’s swallowed that up a time or two when I was looking the other way.  I can tell by the way she coughs as I catch her looking guilty with another piece in hand.

At the table, she grabs strawberries and bites big with the pink juice dripping gloriously down her chin, accompanied with a squeeze of each berry that leaves them in mangled bits that cover her hands and booster tray.  She smears it around with an artist’s flourish and concentration that is quite endearing, if sticky.  She takes bites of mama’s food and sometimes dada’s to—the vegetables, the curry, the beans and rice.  She tries it all, and loves most of it. 

Outside, as I pull weeds she sits nearby on the sidewalk grabbing blades of grass.  Knowing that she often tries to put these in her mouth, I tell her she can pluck them, but not eat them.  She listens, but takes it as an invitation to scrape up a bit of dirt to sample instead. 

In the swimming pool, she is ready to try the leaf that is crumpled at the bottom of the shallow pool.  I distract her with something else for a few moments only to find that while I have been surveying the cloudy sky she has grabbed the hose end and placed it in her mouth instead.

In the bathtub, she nimbly folds her head forward into the water and drinks deep of the soapy water.  She must know that Natalie Babbit wrote that it was delicious. 

I can’t help but laugh.  This girl has tasted and seen the Lord is good.

 

In many small moments, I have for a few seconds caught a glimpse of God’s goodness, but I feel like I’m so busy managing all the messy bits that I don’t often just delight in them.  How to move beyond this? 

Jason reads one night: “You’ve had a taste of God.  Now like infants at the breast, drink deep of God’s pure kindness. Then you’ll grow up mature and whole in God.” 1 Peter 2:2-3

Drink of God’s kindness.  Taste it.

I think of what this picture has looked like in my own arms this last year—my baby drinking deeply.  This is the way God wants me to experience him?  He wants me to drink eagerly, letting his kindness pour in as much and more than I can take in.  Somehow this will grow me up mature and whole in Him.   

It’s a beautiful image.  Babies are made to drink deep, but they do learn in those early weeks how to do it.  So how do I learn to drink deep of God’s kindness? 

How do I move away from managing moments to delighting in them?

I think of the Revolution in World Missions book I have been reading this week.  K.P. Yohannan writes of native missionaries and their children going hungry overseas and here I am wondering how to taste the Lord’s kindness.  Something in me is unlocked in reading this. 

I think He must be teaching me how to drink.

I recognize that God has been watching me struggle.  He knows what I have not seen until now.  I have been living the good life all along without really recognizing it or giving thanks.  He opens my eyes to see all this grace right before me.  His kindness has been there all along.

Left-over lentil sloppy joes in the refrigerator.

Fresh clean water to drink straight from the tap. 

The pineapple and melon on my counter top. 

The jars of legumes, grains, and nuts hanging on my wall. 

The English muffin with egg and cheese I share with my little love at breakfast.

And this is just the start of what is sure to be a long list.

I repent as I consider these brothers and sisters.  I wonder how do they drink deep of the Lord’s kindness? 

How myopic I have been. 

If I am honest, I often too easily tire of my own good food.  I like the luxury of eating out.  I ponder whether I make a bad choice when I buy conventional foods.  I think of that potato I threw out earlier this week, somewhere around the world someone would have salvaged it to make dinner.

In so many ways, I have failed to interpret all this abundance in terms of God’s goodness.

It is dangerous to forget the abundance of God.

“Make sure that when you eat and are satisfied, build pleasant houses and settle in, see your herds and flocks flourish and more and more money come in, watch your standard of living going up and up—make sure you don’t become so full of yourself and your things that you forget God, your God, the God who delivered you from Egyptian slavery;
the God who led you through that huge and fearsome wilderness, those desolate, arid badlands crawling with fiery snakes and scorpions; the God who gave you water gushing from hard rock; the God who gave you manna to eat in the wilderness, something your ancestors had never heard of, in order to give you a taste of the hard life, to test you so that you would be prepared to live well in the days ahead of you.

If you start thinking to yourselves, “I did all this. And all by myself. I’m rich. It’s all mine!”—well, think again. Remember that God, your God, gave you the strength to produce all this wealth so as to confirm the covenant that he promised to your ancestors—as it is today.

If you forget, forget God, your God, and start taking up with other gods, serving and worshiping them, I’m on record right now as giving you firm warning: that will be the end of you; I mean it—destruction. You’ll go to your doom—the same as the nations God is destroying before you; doom because you wouldn’t obey the Voice of God, your God.”  Deuteronomy 8:11-20

With eyes opened I can see how good God is.  I can see that I have a lot to learn about being disciplined and allowing the Holy Spirit to bear the fruit of self-control.  I know my heart will be better for being open to it. 

As I have been thinking about those native missionaries, it comes to me.  They go hungry holding out food that is greater than the stores of my pantry and the contents of my refrigerator—the Bread of Life that transforms a life.

“While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying,“Take and eat; this is my body.”  Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you.  This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.  I tell you, I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.”   Matthew 26:26-29

They know what it is to really drink of the pure kindness of God.

Through them, I am learning too.

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we drink deep of God’s pure kindness. May we be overwhelmed by the changes it works in us.  May we find Him gently drawing us into disciplines in our lives in order to allow us to bless our brothers and sisters around the world out of His more than sufficient abundance.

Jessica :)

What I Do Have

It was so easy in rural Utah to feel like I was doing all I could for the poor.

In this respect, moving back to my hometown has been hard.

There, my exposure to the poor was through the food pantry, the soup kitchen, a dear elderly friend, and the occasional panhandler on the street corner near the Walmart parking lot.  For the panhandlers, it was easy to grab a sandwich, some fruit, or something to drink when I went on an errand and drop it off before I left.  Sometimes, I would have a conversation, others I would say a few words of blessing and head on my way.  It was easy, because it didn’t happen very often.  And since it didn’t happen very often, I felt like it was manageable.

Here, it seems like I pass a panhandler, nearly, every time I get on the highway.  And these aren’t rotating faces.  They are the same ones.  And I don’t know what to do with that.  Part of me feels sorry for these people, wondering what brought them to begging on the street and what keeps them here.  Part of me feels angry that they are there, forcing me to confront the poverty I see in them, every time I pass by.  This isn’t easy.  And it certainly doesn’t seem manageable at all. 

I wonder about addictions, jobs that, surely, could be found, and about mental illness.

I wonder where their family is.

I wonder why it is that I feel guilty as I pass by with nothing to hand them. 

I can’t shake thinking about all this, because I know God loves these people. 

There is much in Scripture about how God cares for the poor.  He wrote provisions for the poor right into the Mosaic Law.  He had harsh words for Israel’s failure to consider the poor in the prophetic books.  And Jesus himself tells about separating the sheep and the goats based on how those people helped the poor or did not help the poor. 

This is important for me to get.

“Whoever oppresses the poor shows contempt for their Maker, but whoever is kind to the needy honors God.”  Proverbs 14:31

Yet, what does it really mean to love the poor?  What does kindness to the needy look like?

I’ve been thinking about this lately.

I don’t have the answers.

I do know that last night God brought to mind a particular story in Acts.  I think it tells me a lot about what loving kindness toward the needy looks like.

“One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon.  Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts.  When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money.  Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, “Look at us!”  So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them.

Then Peter said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.”  Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong.  He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God.  When all the people saw him walking and praising God, they recognized him as the same man who used to sit begging at the temple gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.”  Acts 3:1-10 NIV

The lame man calls out for money.  Peter and John notice him. 

Peter calls out, “Look at us!”  The man looks, expectantly waiting.  But they don’t give him money at all. 

Instead, they give what they have. 

Peter speaks, healing him in the name of Jesus, and helps the man to his feet.

Is the man sad that he didn’t get money?  Not at all.  He is overjoyed that he is no longer lame. 

He goes along trying out his new legs—walking and jumping—praising God.

And the people are filled with wonder at what happened to him.

This story encourages me, because there were those who sought help then, just as now.

People passed the same man daily as they came and went asking for help, just like I pass the panhandlers day after day.  And while panhandlers may not all be physically crippled today, something in me wonders if they are lame in a different way. 

It makes me think that while they ask for money, to last the day, what they really need is somthing else.  They need someone to take notice of them.  They need someone ot take notice of their real need.  And they need someone to speak healing over them in Jesus' name. 

I think on a deep spirit level I must know this.  I think it is this that causes the guilt as I pass by—feeling like I ignore someone with a very real need.   

Only, I never realized before that it isn’t what I don’t have to give that is important.  It is what I do have that is important. 

So, I may forget my cold bottle of water in the refrigerator; and I may forget to bring the food packs along when I head down to the Banks, when a Red’s game is happening.  But, I still have something to offer.  I can listen and I can speak healing in Jesus name.

Jesus said:

“Very truly I tell you, all who have faith in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.  And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son.  You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.” John 14:12-14 TNIV

Do I believe Jesus when he says this? 

He healed people—lame ones, people with illnesses of all sorts--physical, spiritual, emotional.  

He fed people, thousands of them from just a little.

I’ve heard of miracles happening like this today.  I believe it happens.

Do I believe He can do this through His Holy Spirit that lives in me?

Because if I do…

It seems to me, by noticing the real cry of someone’s heart and meeting their real present need, it will be doing the most loving thing of all.  It will usher them into the presence of a loving God, the one who can truly meet all their needs.

*** 

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we seek to honor God by being kind to the poor and needy.  May He give us eyes to see the real needs whether physical, relational, emotional, or spiritual.  Jesus, may we trust that as we give what we have—You—that You will heal and make them whole.

Jessica :)

...reposted from the archives

What I Do Have

It was so easy in rural Utah to feel like I was doing all I could for the poor.

In this respect, moving back to my hometown has been hard.

There, my exposure to the poor was through the food pantry, the soup kitchen, a dear elderly friend, and the occasional panhandler on the street corner near the Walmart parking lot.  For the panhandlers, it was easy to grab a sandwich, some fruit, or something to drink when I went on an errand and drop it off before I left.  Sometimes, I would have a conversation, others I would say a few words of blessing and head on my way.  It was easy, because it didn’t happen very often.  And since it didn’t happen very often, I felt like it was manageable.

Here, it seems like I pass a panhandler, nearly, every time I get on the highway.  And these aren’t rotating faces.  They are the same ones.  And I don’t know what to do with that.  Part of me feels sorry for these people, wondering what brought them to begging on the street and what keeps them here.  Part of me feels angry that they are there, forcing me to confront the poverty I see in them, every time I pass by.  This isn’t easy.  And it certainly doesn’t seem manageable at all. 

I wonder about addictions, jobs that, surely, could be found, and about mental illness.

I wonder where their family is.

I wonder why it is that I feel guilty as I pass by with nothing to hand them. 

I can’t shake thinking about all this, because I know God loves these people. 

There is much in Scripture about how God cares for the poor.  He wrote provisions for the poor right into the Mosaic Law.  He had harsh words for Israel’s failure to consider the poor in the prophetic books.  And Jesus himself tells about separating the sheep and the goats based on how those people helped the poor or did not help the poor. 

This is important for me to get.

“Whoever oppresses the poor shows contempt for their Maker, but whoever is kind to the needy honors God.”  Proverbs 14:31

Yet, what does it really mean to love the poor?  What does kindness to the needy look like?

I’ve been thinking about this lately.

I don’t have the answers.

I do know that last night God brought to mind a particular story in Acts.  I think it tells me a lot about what loving kindness toward the needy looks like.

“One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon.  Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts.  When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money.  Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, “Look at us!”  So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them.

Then Peter said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.”  Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong.  He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God.  When all the people saw him walking and praising God, they recognized him as the same man who used to sit begging at the temple gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.”  Acts 3:1-10 NIV

The lame man calls out for money.  Peter and John notice him. 

Peter calls out, “Look at us!”  The man looks, expectantly waiting.  But they don’t give him money at all. 

Instead, they give what they have. 

Peter speaks, healing him in the name of Jesus, and helps the man to his feet.

Is the man sad that he didn’t get money?  Not at all.  He is overjoyed that he is no longer lame. 

He goes along trying out his new legs—walking and jumping—praising God.

And the people are filled with wonder at what happened to him.

This story encourages me, because there were those who sought help then, just as now.

People passed the same man daily as they came and went asking for help, just like I pass the panhandlers day after day.  And while panhandlers may not all be physically crippled today, something in me wonders if they are lame in a different way. 

It makes me think that while they ask for money, to last the day, what they really need is somthing else.  They need someone to take notice of them.  They need someone ot take notice of their real need.  And they need someone to speak healing over them in Jesus' name. 

 

I think on a deep spirit level I must know this.  I think it is this that causes the guilt as I pass by—feeling like I ignore someone with a very real need.   

Only, I never realized before that it isn’t what I don’t have to give that is important.  It is what I do have that is important. 

So, I may forget my cold bottle of water in the refrigerator; and I may forget to bring the food packs along when I head down to the Banks, when a Red’s game is happening.  But, I still have something to offer.  I can listen and I can speak healing in Jesus name.

Jesus said:

“Very truly I tell you, all who have faith in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.  And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son.  You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.” John 14:12-14 TNIV

Do I believe Jesus when he says this? 

He healed people—lame ones, people with illnesses of all sorts--physical, spiritual, emotional.  

He fed people, thousands of them from just a little.

I’ve heard of miracles happening like this today.  I believe it happens.

Do I believe He can do this through His Holy Spirit that lives in me?

Because if I do…

It seems to me, by noticing the real cry of someone’s heart and meeting their real present need, it will be doing the most loving thing of all.  It will usher them into the presence of a loving God, the one who can truly meet all their needs.

*** 

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we seek to honor God by being kind to the poor and needy.  May He give us eyes to see the real needs whether physical, relational, emotional, or spiritual.  Jesus, may we trust that as we give what we have—You—that You will heal and make them whole.

Jessica :)