A Gospel Primer, by Milton Vincent

This little tomeis one more in a long line I've been reading lately that seek to plumb some aspect of the depths of the gospel and Mr. Vincent succeeds admirably. Its value is not in its factual rehearsal of the gospel, although the poetic section at the end forces a slower, more contemplative reading, but rather in its continual seeking after what the gospel means in a believer's life. Each section (I hate to call them chapters, maybe 'micro-chapters'?) is only a paragraph or three long, yet contains so powerful a point that it's enough to contemplate all day or to discuss with others for a week.

I consistently found that the themes, observations, and challenges in each micro-chapter reiterated, emphasized, and explained in fresh ways those of that day's Scripture assignment and my daily forays into Trusting God and The Godly Man's Picture.  I love it when the Lord pulls things together for me (maybe it's just that I'm thick-headed and hard-hearted and he needs to repeat things so they stick!). As the Lord connected the dots for me, I began to see the bigger picture of how the gospel works out in real, day-by-day, rubber-meets-the-road life. The riches of Christ are a sea we'll swim in for eternity, and I've barely gotten my toes wet, but the process is a delight.

I'm reading this aloud to the kids right now and we're discussing our way through it. It's one that I'll come back to as part of my personal time with the Lord and that we'll continue to re-read together through the years.  

So, Dear Readers (I'm taking Angelina's correspondence course), I highly recommend this book.  It's worth every penny and much, much more.

SDG!!

Spring

I took this photo a couple of weeks ago. Our peach tree was in full bloom, with new life breaking out all over.

The Lord works subtly: the days begin to lengthen imperceptibly, the sap begins to run through the hidden veins of the tree, and then, with little warning, life breaks out on what had seemed outwardly to be a bunch of dead twigs and branches stuck in the ground.

Thus he also works in our hearts and souls. He not only offers comfort and safety in the storm, but in the fullness of time he commands the maelstrom to be still, and it obeys. The sun shines again, we begin to show signs of bearing fruit, and he is glorified.

I’m working on a couple more poems, but haven’t had much time lately.

Thank you for your prayers. They are precious to me. Dawn has come, and our path has risen out of the valley.

A Frowning Providence

I finished Behind a Frowning Providence last night. This little gem is full of comfort and wisdom from the Puritans as well as author John J. Murray, including several poetic excerpts. Here are a couple of my favorite quotes.

---

The most wise, righteous and gracious God doth often-times leave for a season his own children to manifold temptations, and the corruption of their own hearts, to chastise them for their former sins, or to discover unto them the hidden strength of corruption and deceitfulness of their own hearts, that they may be humbled; and to raise them to a more close and constant dependence for their support upon himself, and to make them more watchful against all future occasions of sin, and for sundry other just and holy ends.


The Westminster Confession of Faith

I walked a mile with pleasure,

She chatted all the way,

But left me none the wiser

For all she had to say.

I walked a mile with sorrow

And ne’er a word said she,

But oh the things I learned from her,

When sorrow walked with me.


unattributed

Every work of Christ towards His people carries something more great and precious in the bosom of it than we are capable at the time of understanding.


Ralph Erskine

The vessels of mercy are first seasoned with affliction and then the wine of glory is poured in.


Thomas Watson

Prayer Answered by Crosses

I asked the Lord, that I might grow

In faith, and love, and every grace, 

Might more of his salvation know, 

And seek more earnestly his face.

'Twas he who taught me thus to pray, 

And he, I trust has answered prayer; 

But it has been in such a way, 

As almost drove me to despair.

I hoped that in some favoured hour, 

At once he'd answer my request: 

And by his love's constraining power, 

Subdue my sins, and give me rest.

Instead of this, he made me feel 

The hidden evils of my heart; 

And let the angry powers of hell 

Assault my soul in every part.

Yea more, with his own hand he seemed 

Intent to aggravate my woe; 

Crossed all the fair designs I schemed, 

Blasted my gourds, and laid me low.

Lord, why is this, I trembling cried; 

Wilt thou pursue this worm to death? 
“
‘Tis in this way," the Lord replied,

"I answer prayer for grace and faith.

"These inward trials I employ, 

"From self and pride to set thee free; 

"And break thy schemes of earthly joy, 

"That thou may’st seek thy all in me."

John Newton

Opus #10

How I begrudge the sparrow plain,


Tho’ unadorned, subdued,


Unprepossessing, indistinct,


Appears not ornate-hued,


Yet she has wings to fly away,


Escaping earthly care.

She leaves her burdens far below,


And dances on the air.

She twirls and whirls and pirouettes


Across blue firmament,


Unweighed by earth’s persistent pull,


Exuberance unpent.


I stand beneath, observe her waltz,


While to take off I yearn.

She skirts o’er each impediment,


Her path still straight, unturn’d.




Fast fetter’d to my shackling grief,


I covet joy of flight;


But wingless, fixed, weighed down with dread,


I’m grounded from such height.


She’s gone from sight, I turn away,


Then pause… entreat… conclude:


Tho’ sorrow binds me to the earth,


God’s love is not so rude!




His grace puts flight within my grasp-


I tentatively praise,


As I mount up with eagles’ wings,


He clears away the haze,


Now weightless - Christ removes distress,


Lifts off my heavy care,


He smiles at me and takes my hand,


And we waltz on the air.

© Lynne Bourgault Spear, 2007

Opus #9

(With appreciation and apologies to R.L. Stevenson...)

The rain is raining all around,

It falls on field and tree,

Reflects the teardrops on my cheek,

While grief envelops me.

The wind keeps whistling merrily,

It mocks my deep despair - 

Pretended joy and happiness, 

Mere castles in the air.

The thunder roars despondent din,

My silence I must keep,

Yet agony is thus proclaim’d,

As deep calls unto deep.

The gloomy grey of clouds above

Shrouds sunshine warm and bright.

The frigid air lays bare my heart:

I wish for death or flight.

Oppressed...forlorn? Abandon’d not!!!

I’m safe beneath His wing,

And though the tempest rages on,

To Christ I clasp and cling.

He holds me fast, my Sanctum true,

Through torrent, gale, and wave,

His grasp is firm; He won’t betray,

I trust in Him to save.

When deluge whelms, He anchors me,

My storm-toss’d soul He calms,

My Ark amid the tumult fierce,

Soul’s Harbor, Home, and Balm.

© Lynne Bourgault Spear, 2007

God Moves in a Mysterious Way

“You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”

John 13:7

God Moves in a Mysterious Way
by William Cowper

God moves in a mysterious way

His wonders to perform;

He plants His footsteps in the sea

And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines

Of never failing skill

He treasures up His bright designs

And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;

The clouds ye so much dread

Are big with mercy and shall break

In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

But trust Him for His grace;

Behind a frowning providence

He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding every hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err

And scan His work in vain;

God is His own interpreter,

And He will make it plain.

A Bitter Bud

We’re not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be. 


C.S. Lewis

We were promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, “Blessed are they that mourn.” 


C.S. Lewis

---

I’m sorry for the long absence. I took some time off for Christmas and then January hit, and hit hard.

Our family, both nuclear and extended, has been walking through difficult times. We each have a long and painful path ahead.

In the past, I would have prayed for the Lord to move me through this valley as quickly as possible, impatiently running full bore to reach the end. But as I survey our current landscape, I begin to see that I would have been crushed had the pain come all at once. At times it felt as if I would be, but his grace is sufficient and has meted the grief out slowly over time. His desire is not to crush, but to purify and make us into the glorious image of his Son. His motive is not punishment, but love - he wants us to learn more deeply that he is our only hope.

---

Jehovah-Rophi. I Am the Lord That Healeth Thee

(Exodus 15:26)
by William Cowper

Heal us, Emmanuel! here we are, 

Waiting to feel Thy touch: 

Deep-wounded souls to Thee repair

And, Saviour, we are such.

Our faith is feeble, we confess, 

We faintly trust Thy word; 

But wilt Thou pity us the less? 

Be that far from Thee, Lord!

Remember him who once applied, 

With trembling, for relief; 

"Lord, I believe," with tears he cried, 

"Oh, help my unbelief!"

She too, who touch'd Thee in the press, 

And healing virtue stole, 

Was answer'd, "Daughter, go in peace, 

Thy faith hath made thee whole."

Conceal'd amid the gathering throng, 

She would have shunn'd Thy view;

And if her faith was firm and strong, 

Had strong misgivings too.

Like her, with hopes and fears we come, 

To touch Thee, if we may; 

Oh! send us not despairing home, 

Send none unheal'd away!



Quote Time

From The Holiness of God, by R.C. Sproul, Chapter 2, pp. 28-30:

If ever there was a man of integrity, it was Isaiah be Amoz. He was a whole man, a together type of fellow. He was considered by his contemporaries as the most righteous man in the nation. He was respected as a paragon of virtue. Then he caught one sudden glimpse of a holy God. In that single moment, all of his self-esteem was shattered. In a brief second he was exposed, made naked beneath the gaze of the absolute standard of holiness. As long as Isaiah could compare himself to other mortals, he was able to sustain a lofty opinion of his own character. The instant he measured himself by the ultimate standard, he was destroyed--morally and spiritually annihilated. He was undone. He came apart. ...

...He saw the holiness of God. For the first time in his life Isaiah really understood who God was. At the same instant, for the first time Isaiah really understood who Isaiah was. ...

...His was pure moral anguish, the kind that rips out the heart of a man and tears his soul to pieces. Guilt, guilt, guilt. Relentless guilt screamed from his every pore.


The holy God is also a God of grace. He refused to allow His servant to continue on his belly without comfort. He took immediate steps to cleanse the man and restore his soul.

(pp. 32-33):

Two important things must be noted in Isaiah’s reply [‘Here am I. Send me.’]. The first is that he was not Humpty-Dumpty. In the nursery rhyme, the fall of Mr. Dumpty is tragic because no one in the entire kingdom had the power to put him together again. Yet he was no more fragile than Isaiah. Isaiah was shattered into as many pieces as any fallen egg. But God put him together again. ...


The second important thing we learn from this event is that God’s work of grace on Isaiah’s soul did not annihilate his personal identity. ... Isaiah could still speak in terms of ‘I’. He still had an identity. He still had a personality. Far from God seeking to destroy the ‘self,’ as many distortions of Christianity would claim, God redeems the self. ... Isaiah’s personality was overhauled but not annihilated. He was still Isaiah ben Amoz when he left the temple. He was the same person, but his mouth was clean.

Logs and Specks, II

So, how have Drew and I begun to apply the truths I've discussed in these last few posts to our children?

First of all, we’ve taught them from Matthew 7, going through with them what I’ve been discussing here. This was done when no one was in the middle of overt and obvious sin. In other words, it wasn’t aimed at any one person in particular, and I included examples from my own life as we discussed this. I wanted them to realize that I don’t think I’m above this, but that it must apply to me, too.

We’ve also listened to CJ Mahaney’s sermon entitled Cravings and Conflict, at least a couple of times already and we’ll listen to it plenty more through the coming years as our little ones grow. (It helped that we all heard it together for the first time when CJ was visiting and preached one Sunday morning.)

These teachings have given us some common language for dealing with our children’s sin (and our own). I can now calmly ask them, “Where’s your log?” or “What are you craving?” or “Who are you focused on right now?” as shortcuts to pointing them back to their own hearts and the sin therein when conflict arises. Another question I ask my older kids is, “What idol are you worshipping right now?”

Humility on my part is required. Am I willing to confess my own sin to my children and ask their forgiveness? Or do I try to brush my own sins under the rug?
And, just as I need to get to the root of my sin, I must try to teach my children to dig for their own roots. If we don’t get to the root of the sin, but focus on changing behaviour, we haven’t done our children any favors.

These truths come up often when discussing our weekly sermons. We are truly blessed in our church leadership and in the teaching we receive week after week as we learn to apply the gospel to all of life.

We also tease one another a bit. We sing a wonderful song at church which includes the following lyric: “It’s all about you, Jesus, and all this is for you, for your glory and your fame. It’s not about me, as if you should do things my way, you alone are God and I surrender to your name.” When we see self-centeredness beginning to manifest itself, sometimes we start singing this song, only we change “Jesus” to the name of the person who’s focused on himself at the moment. We usually only get to “It’s not about me, as if you should do things my way,” if even that far. The kids get the drift and know where the song is headed. This sounds horrible as I read it, but it’s done gently, with a big grin, and helps cut to the heart of the matter in a way that helps the person involved surrender much more easily than a scolding would.

Another aspect of this that I’ve recently begun to apprehend is that sometimes school needs to be put on hold while we work on these heart issues. If my kids can multiply and read Latin, but don’t know how to apply the gospel to the sin in their hearts, have I really served them well?
These are issues that can be talked about in the context of literary or film characters. For example, as we discuss Lizzie Bennett’s and Mr. Darcy’s attitudes toward one another in these terms (“What is Lizzie craving?” or “What’s the log in Darcy’s eye?”), the kids don’t feel attacked, but are learning to discern and think in these terms.

Sanctification is a process, a step-by-step, line-upon-line process. We can’t afford to be too busy for this process, nor can we rush it. God is patient with us and so must we be with our children. If we can deal with our own logs, our children will understand that we’re on their side as we help them deal with their specks.

Next, I’ll try to post some resources, books and downloadable sermons, to help these truths become functional in daily life.

---

I feel like I need to include a disclaimer here. I’m still very much in process and haven’t arrived by any stretch of the imagination. I’m writing this as much for myself (to reinforce it) as for anyone who may read it.

Logs and Specks

I got an email about my post on 28 November (you can’t imagine how I’ve wanted a legitimate reason to say that ever since I started watching VeggieTales!!!). My friend asks (and you must imagine a sweet, Aussie accent to do it justice!):

“I am wondering how you ever get around to dealing with your children's logs and specks when you have to deal with your own first. That's a revealing comment, isn't it! I am fully aware that uncontrollable emotion in me points to MY sin, which needs to be dealt with, but not so sure that I can ever deal with sin in my children over-emotion-free. I know it has something to do with awareness of, and acceptance of how much I have been forgiven, but still have a hard time with it - so I look forward to your further reflections with expectation and hopefulness.”

It not only has something to do with awareness of and acceptance of how much I’ve been forgiven, but I believe it has quite a bit to do with it, as does looking for the root of my own uncontrollable emotional response. (Once we deal with the root issues, I’ll have some practical applications that I’ve been trying lately with my own brood.)

If I don’t act upon the knowledge of the depth of my own sin and the even greater amount of grace poured upon me, I’m the ungrateful servant of Christ’s parable. He was forgiven a debt he couldn’t have paid in five lifetimes. He then went out and found someone who owed him $10 and put him in debtors’ prison until the debt could be repaid.

Think of an old-fashioned scale, a balance. One side contains the immeasurable fullness of my sin against the infinite, transcendent, and holy Lord. It’s deeper (and darker) than the Mariana Trench, higher than Alpha Centauri, and heavier than Jupiter, and it’s all been forgiven because of Christ. On the other side of our metaphorical balance is the sin the person I’m in conflict with has committed against me - all 2 or 3 grains’ worth of sand. Until the sin against me is as huge as my sin against God which he has forgiven, I have no right to get angry.

I must also examine the root of my sin. Why exactly am I so upset when one of my children sins? Various reasons come to mind.

Maybe they’ve disregarded my desires (for a clean house, a bowl of ice cream, a half hour of peace and quiet, help in the garden...you fill in the blank).

My children aren’t thinking of me and I’m upset about that. Don’t they realize how much they owe me? How many hours I spent in labor? How hard I work to homeschool them? How much I’ve given up for them? All I’ve given them and do for them each day? I’m so wonderful, well ... they should just bow down and worship me.

Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. I’ve lost sight of what I really do deserve (and, because of Christ, what I’m not getting). My focus at this point is myself and it’s not pretty; I’ve become more important in my eyes than anyone else. I’m worshipping myself, which is another way to say I’ve descended into idolatry. Ouch. It’s not only not pretty, it’s pretty ugly...horribly ugly. (Which brings me back to the cross and the enormity of the forgiveness offered there, and the gratitude toward Christ for his sacrifice. There is therefore, now, no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.)

Or suppose there’s real sin going on in my children (not an unreasonable conjecture). Who are they really sinning against? Me? or God himself? What is my responsibility before the Lord toward my children?

After listing the fruit of the Spirit and contrasting it with the fruit of the flesh, Paul writes, “If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit. Let us not become boastful, challenging one another, envying one another. Brethren, even if anyone is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, so that you too will not be tempted.” (Galatians 5:25-6:1)

Paul gives us instructions for how we should treat one another, not just when things are going well, but especially when a brother (one of my children) is caught in sin. The picture in my mind isn’t that I’ve caught one of my children red-handed (ah-ha!), but that sin, which blinds and deceives, is a trap that has caught one of my children, the sin that so easily entangles from Hebrews, chapter 12. If I were to come upon one of my children caught in a physical trap of some sort, I’d want to set him free from the trap, not challenge him or boast that I wasn’t entangled in it. And I’d realize that he certainly couldn’t free himself.

I’m the one “who is spiritual” when my child is caught in sin. How must I seek to restore him? Not by challenging him, but in a spirit of gentleness. Why must I seek to be gentle? That I too will not be tempted. Restore him to whom? The Lord, primarily. And again, there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Do I act as if I want to condemn him or to restore him?

I must remind myself that my children’s sin isn’t really against me, but against the Lord, transcendent, holy, and just. Even if they do owe me $10, I owed the Lord much, much more and he forgave. In gratitude to him, how can I do less? If I can bring this from the confessional level of simply acknowledging this in my mind to the functional level of living by it, I will begin to be changed by it, and I’ll begin to be able to deal more effectively and biblically with my children’s sin.

Homeschool Peace

This is really a continuation of the Place of Rest thread, but I got tired of the name. ;-D

We had a basic lesson last week that has begun bearing fruit in our children. When my dh and I first learned it, it changed the complexion of our relationship and our day-by-day walk.

In Matthew, chapter 7, we read the following:

“Do not judge so that you will not be judged. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' and behold, the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye.”

As sinful human beings (remember, there are only two kinds of people in the world at this point in time: sinners and sinners who have been saved by grace, so this applies to us all), we are so quick to see the speck in our brother’s eye. “My feelings are hurt, so I don’t even have to look for the speck in your eye. I can see your log from the other side of the room! And it’s huge!!!”

What we learned turns this on its head. When I feel hurt, or upset, or frustrated, or angry, that isn’t an indication that your sin is big and obvious and I have every right to be hurt, or upset, or frustrated, or angry. It is, however, an indication that I’ve got a log in my own eye. I probably don’t see it - sin is deceptive and blinds us. Uncontrollable emotion is a neon sign pointing to the active presence of sin in my own heart and until I deal with that, I have no right or obligation to try to point out your sin.

Opus #8

You ever lavish blessings mercif’ly
Upon us. Sinners all, we don’t deserve
Your cross, our guarantee.
Your kind regard and clement care preserve
Us warm beneath your wings. Your mighty hand
And strength sustain, conserve
Us now and through the swiftly slipping sand
Of time and all eternity. You give
Sweet hope of heav’n - joy, fanned
By heartfelt gratitude declarative
Of watchful charge and tenderness. Release
The fetter’d fugitive,
To those upheaved bestow your tranquil peace,
Abate the raging storm within, cruel weight
Of guilt remove, increase
Our trust and faith, our crooked ways make straight,
Unshackle us from foolish self-concern,
From hubris liberate.


SDG!

© Lynne Spear, 2006

Place of Rest, IV

I thought I was done with this topic, but I don’t think I’ve done an adequate job of communicating what I’m trying to communicate. Then, yesterday during the sermon, our senior pastor helped me clarify and I thought I’d have one more go at it.

His sermon was on Luke 14:1-24 and the topic was the failure of religion. He dealt with the failure of legalism (working to earn God’s favor and our salvation), pride (in our accomplishments toward earning God’s favor and our salvation), and presumption (assuming we’re good enough to earn God’s favor and our salvation). He finished up with a few application questions to help us gauge our own spiritual health in these areas, one of which was, “Is my mood based on my performance?” This question was the key.

If my mood is based on how well I’m doing, then that’s a symptom that I’m putting my faith in my actions and my ability to perform rather than in Christ’s finished work on the cross. Anxiety over how my day is going is a clear sign that I’m relying on myself and my (supposed) good works to try to earn the Lord’s favor instead of trusting in his unfailing love for me as expressed through the cross, and resting in his goodness and his plan for my day. If I can keep the gospel in focus, reminding myself that I’m an incapable sinner and that he’s done it all and given me all good things because of his grace, I can rest in him.

This morning, as I sat and made my to do list for the next few days, I saw a potentially difficult week with many opportunities for frustration and anxiety. As I prayed over the list, my prayer wasn’t that the Lord would help me get it all done (although without his help, I can’t), rather I prayed that I would be able to rest in him and in his grace today as I worked, in full reliance on his strength, keeping my focus on the gospel.

Place of Rest, III

So what exactly is rest and how we live and teach from it? I don’t think Andrew was referring to physical rest (although a nap sounds great!). I think he’s referring more to peace. So that brings us to the question: what is peace? Let’s start with what it’s not. Rest on the outside with turmoil on the inside is no peace at all. Peace is not an entity unto itself, but rather fruit of the gospel at work in our lives.

“[T]rue peace is far more than the absence of active conflict. At the same time, peace is not permanent, unbroken relational serenity. It is not a destination at which we can arrive. ... Biblical peace is ... a lifelong focus, a process, a journey, a heart attitude, a matter of regular and careful attention. In its progressive, ongoing nature, peace is a lot like sanctification, to which it is inextricably bound.”

Love That Lasts, pp. 106-107

As I learn to apply the gospel to all of life, remembering that I am a vile sinner and God’s grace expressed in Christ through his death for me on the cross, my heart begins to change. This transformation frees me from focusing on myself and liberates me to think of others first. Others’ small sins against me are put into their proper place when I weigh them against the enormity of my own sin against God.

When I get upset, angry, or hurt, that points to a log in my eye, which must be dealt with before I try to tackle the speck in my husband’s or children’s eyes. This is an obvious reminder to me to stop and pray, asking the Lord to show me the sin at work in me, before I lose my temper with another.

Becoming more aware of my own sin doesn’t sound like it should lead to peace. But the bigger my view of my sin becomes, the bigger my view of the cross becomes. God’s grace is bigger than my sin, so this awareness shouldn’t lead to condemnation - there is, after all, no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

This is completely contrary to the feel-good, self-esteem teaching so prevalent today, not just in the world, but in the church, too. How can this lead to peace? It sounds like utter foolishness. Ah, ha! It is foolishness and it’s this kind of foolishness that God uses to humble the wise ones in the world and to show his power.

Once we have a more accurate view of our own sin, we can see the cross more clearly and accurately. As we apply the gospel to all of life, we begin to know peace. And we must always remember that Christ is our peace (Eph. 2:14). Knowing him and his glorious good news of our salvation better, will bring us greater levels of peace and rest in him.

And, no, I haven’t arrived yet. As the Ricuccis said above - peace is a process and a journey, intimately tied to sanctification. I won’t arrive until I stand before the Lord face-to-face, but what a day that will be!

Opus #6

My ardor cools by slight degrees, a hoar
Frost chills my soul. The passion I held dear
In past is frozen. Breezes gust and roar,
Autumnal windstorm, frosty, insincere.
Hard, wintry ice weighs down mere’s rippled wave.
Dull leaves drift down and carpet ground - earth’s shroud.
All life in hibernation sleeps. My grave
And soul’s decease writ large, benumb and cloud

My heart.

I hear a muted hymn that swells

And grows, reminds me of your grace. Splash, drip-
Your love a supernatural spring that quells

My dread. Your care a fire that melts death’s grip-

A sun that brings new life: the blush on fruit

Of freshest rip’ning faith and tender shoot.

SDG!

© Lynne Spear, 2006

Place of Rest, II

So, what did I mean by stating that Christ is the only secure place of rest from which we can live and thus teach? What does that look like?

Well, that’s a good question, but before looking at what that looks like on the outside, we must look to the heart of the matter, and it starts in my heart.

Lately, the Lord has been showing me the depth of sin in my own heart. Yuck! It’s vile! The idolatry, the pride, the selfishness. You may not think that this is very restful, and the beginning of this process isn’t. But, as he shows me my sin, he also reminds me of the cross. My first look at the cross reminds me that that’s what I deserve. Because I’ve sinned against a perfect, holy, pure God, I deserve to hang there...forever. That’s how bad my sin is. Take some time to contemplate that.

My second look at the cross shows me his love for me. Christ took my punishment, paid my debt, became sin for me. I could not pay for my own sin, yet I no longer owe that debt. There is no longer any condemnation for me. I find rest in the finished work of Christ. Because of his finished work, I have peace with God where there was only hostility.

The first look begins to kill my pride. The second look reminds me who belongs on the throne in my soul, thereby beginning to kill idolatry. I say “beginning” because learning these lessons is the work of a lifetime.

I know this is basic Christianity, but I’m learning how it applies to all of life. And that’s what’s been bringing peace to my relationships with my husband and children. As peace grows in my family, it grows in our schooling. I’ll try to pull together more of these details next time.

Opus #5

This metaphor has been rattling around in my mind for over a decade now. The Lord has only recently given me the final puzzle pieces to put it into words.

It describes both ways I’ve been treated by various people and, unfortunately, ways I’ve treated others. I confess that I’m most often the second woman, especially to my children. By God’s grace, I’m slowly becoming more like the third.

---

Deep in a pit, upon my back,
My ankle twisted, broke.
I’m bruised; my head has had a crack.
I cry out, weep, and choke.

A stone upon my broken limb,
I cannot stand; I sprawl.
I fear my rescue hope is slim,
I’m helpless as a doll.

Above appears a simple grin
That sees no need to fret,
Ignores the hole, deep gloom within,
“Don’t mope or be upset!”

More platitudes she calls to me,
“Now, where’s your cheerful mood?
The weather’s fine as it can be,
So don’t be so subdued.”

She skips away. She never saw
How dangerous my plight.
Too optimistic was her flaw,
Too rosy was her sight.

A scowl appears atop the hole,
She knits her brow, so grim.
Self-righteous chiding is her goal.
“You! Climb up to this rim.”

“Come pull yourself up here with me,
You prat, you’re strong enough!
If you’d more faith, you would be free.
You’re made of worthless fluff!”

She stomps away, her shoulders shrugs,
Not charity, but shame.
She sees no use in tender hugs,
Believes they can’t reclaim.

A sister dear shows me her face.
Her eyes set me at peace.
Her gentle hope like an embrace,
My dread and fear decrease.

To reach my side she scrambles down,
Ignores the nasty slime.
Her touch as soft as eiderdown,
She counts not cost nor time.

My tears are dried, my wounds are bound,
She rolls away the stone.
Her joy and laughter, such sweet sound,
Now I walk not alone.

A greater Friend descended here
Into our blackened pit,
Assumed our woe and took our fear,
For God, He made us fit.

He wiped our tears and bound our hurt,
He paid off all our debt,
Did not despise the mire and dirt,
But washed away our sweat.

Into the tomb he went, unspared,
Then rolled away the stone.
Our beastly sin and grief he shared,
So we’d walk not alone.

SDG!

© Lynne Spear, 2006

Not-a-Sonnet #4

My eyes were blind; Your holiness
And glory hidden, dark.
My depth of sin, I’d not profess.
The cross in shade obscured, slight mark

On far horizon.

Light’ning crack!

Grand thunderclap! You strike a spark,
Illuminate my gaze. My lack
Laid bare in daylight clear and in
The gap the Cross stands tall, not black
But shining bright, and near. Within,

I glimpse Your grace.

So sinless, pure,

You’re high above. My soul so thin,
Inside vice still a deep allure.
Anew conviction comes; this gift
Gives life and hope. Your hold secure,
Belov’d, You soar on high, so swift.
Alone, I’d plunge to depths complete.
Your Cross mounts up to fill the rift.
Expanse You render obsolete.

SDG!

© Lynne Spear, 2006

Sonnet #3

Thy holiness, so infinite yet veil’d,
Complete perfection, blazing honor hid.
My sightless gaze obscured. I fully fail’d
To stem, restrain my wickedness, forbid
My blacken’d ways. Depravity my sole
Reply - heed not, I turn away and lid

My wretchèd shame.

Then Light o’er brims my soul,

Damn’d scales flings off! Distress, despair! Can’t flee,
I crumple, slump. High priced...too dear the toll.
Immense, unbounded gorge ‘twixt me and Thee.
Sweet Gospel bends; she lifts my head. Tear’d eyes

To Thee I raise - Thy grace, my only plea.

Forgiveness grows, ‘Cross vast abyss it lies,

Thy bridge of hope. Thou bidst me come, arise.

SDG!

© Lynne Spear, 2006

No Condemnation!

Romans 8:1 tells us that, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” I’ve been loosely tethered to this verse for the last couple of months, trying to understand it, to bring it from the confessional level to the functional level. Last night, at church, one of our pastors worked hard to drill this joyful idea deeply into our souls.

Tracy Lee Simmons wrote: "Ideas are shadowy and inert without [words]. But with words to clothe them, ideas take on form."

And he’s right. On the way home, I decided that I just didn’t really understand what condemnation means. It was the Invisible Man and needed words to clothe it so I could get a better glimpse of it.

My best guess was destined to be punished because of guilt. While this isn’t wrong, it’s only part of the story.

When I looked it up in Webster’s New World Dictionary and Noah Webster’s 1848 Facsimile Dictionary, I learned that this word means a great deal more than I’d ever imagined. From the two dictionaries, I discovered quite a bit that made this verse come alive.

There is therefore now no condemnation (no guilt, no punishment, no doom, no rejection, no censure, no blame, no disapprobation, no disapproval, no declaration of being unfit, no determination of being wrong) for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Now there’s an Invisible Man made visible!