Morning Prayer

Make me Lord, a sunbeam,

A little ray of light

Doing everything I can,

To make my corner bright

Polish please, the mirror,

That should reflect your face

Making Jesus clearer,

In this, my lowly place

Turn my eyes to Jesus,

Full, enfaced to Him

No one, or thing distracting,

To make the picture dim

Let me die this morning,

That Christ alone might be

Living, shining, serving,

In little sunbeam me!

Philippians:129 Gifts

“For unto you it is given on the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on Him, but also to suffer for His sake.” Philippians 1:29

It’s not on our wish list.  

But contrary to human thought, it holds the highest of honors. 

Enoch and Elijah, who both tasted eternity without seeing death, did not somehow receive a better gift at the hand of God than did John the Baptist. 

Fellowship with Christ in His sufferings means fellowship also in His consolation. 

...and in the world to come, eternal life. 

Of all the gifts that heaven grants

To humans on this earth,

The highest honor God implants—

The weightiest of worth,

Is fellowship with Jesus Christ

To share His suffering,

To taste of what He sacrificed

Yet trust mid anything!

Philippians: 119 Cooperation

“For I know that this shall turn to my salvation through your prayer, and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:19

“This shall turn to my salvation” -

It will come to bear good fruit.

It will work a reformation

In the branches of the Root.

But notice though, the means by which

Our crucibles have blessing

It’s “through your prayer” that there’s a switch,

And through the Spirit’s giving.

We see cooperation here:

That man is linked with Christ.

And then salvations’s gift draws near,

For self is sacrificed. 

Philippians: 111 Full

“Being filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God.” Philippians 1:11

I’ve been an empty pitcher,

All drained and dusty too,

For trying to get fuller,

Has only cracked me too.

A cracked and broken vessel—

What good thing can it do?

But God has something special,

In mind for me and you.

God made us to have fulness,

Up to the very brim.

He wants to right our chaos,

And fill us up with Him.

But He can’t pour His treasure

Where something else resides.

For vain and empty pleasure

Will fill, and crack the sides.

Then idol after idol,

Surrender them to Christ.

And this, alone is possible,

Through what He sacrificed.

And as we yield those prizes,

He’ll mend our shattered cup,

And give us sweet surprises,

For He will fill us up.

Philippians: 101 Submission

“Paul and Timotheus, the servants of Jesus Christ, to all the saints in Christ Jesus which are at Philippi, with the bishops and deacons.” Philippians 1:1

…the servants of Jesus Christ… 

What gave Paul and Timotheus, Abraham, Moses, David, Solomon, Job, Jacob, Daniel, John, James, Epaphras, and Peter, distinction as the “servant” of God? Is it any coincidence that these, among the strongest leaders for Heaven, are called servants?

Moses, the meekest man on planet earth; Job who trusted God, though he should be slain at His hand; Abraham who obeyed, not knowing the way that he went, and  who yielded to the command of God, though it should cost him everything. As in Hebrews, time fails to tell of them all. 

Their lives speak of submission: of bold acknowledgement that God is great, and I am not; of full surrender to the only One worth surrendering to; of simple, genuine obedience. It’s a sermon of subservience born of love for God —any other motive of action would have melted in the fire of their afflictions. The power of their lives was not from within. Their leadership did not begin with public posts and google+ counters. The strength of these giants grew out of quiet submission in the audience chamber of the King of kings. 

It is no different now. Submission is the foundation for leadership; subservience to God, prerequisite to greatness. Service, in fact, is not optional. Every choice we make carries with it the signature of the one we serve. 

Who is that for me? Or for you? Who is your master? Who has your thoughts? Who has your desires? Who has your talents? Who has your heart? Whose are you?

My prayer is that we would be the submissive servants of Jesus Christ.

Normal Life

Two months and five days later to be exact. Normal life is returning, both faster and slower than I care it to. “Restrictions” sluggishly carry on for two more weeks: no lifting, pushing, or pulling more than 20 lbs. (which basically equals no work.) No running, and definitely no jumping. No ladders. No scaffolding. No violin. 

At least singing isn’t forbidden. Chewing is permitted as long as it doesn’t hurt. :)

The post-surgery pain is gone… almost. Exceptions arise on a walk, an obstinate pile of rice, a bumpy ride, and sometimes no apparent reason at all. Those squishy blue gel-packs from the freezer still feel heavenly. 

Mostly though, things are normal. Pause.

…What is normal? 

Far too many have never known a pain-free day. The world is saturated with crippled, hurting people. Who is going to help them?

The abundance of kindness and sympathy given me is a royal waste if it’s not passed on. Whatever blessing you or I receive, gives it’s truest gift, as we put it in the hands of another. Simply, It is more blessed to give than to receive. 

And this, I know is true. The self-sacrificing work, is the only satisfying work. Whether grateful eyes look deep into yours, or you hold only the consciousness of right doing, that. is. satisfaction. Why?

Because we were made to give. We were made to be like God. And He gives.

That means… 

       …God meant giving to be normal.

Then that's the normal we want...

Rubber bands: day and night for ever and ever.
.  .  .
(Until they're done, you understand :)

Weimar Board Weekend: "Now"...

      Is it possible for "Now" to be past tense? :) It is in this case...

The lights are on...

...and the doors are open!

Recently positioned seats in the new (old) building

From the back

Miracle: occupancy for one day in Echo Hall. 

The King of all the ages
Could grasp eternity,
Yet traced redemption's pages
In deepest poverty.

With joy and gifts abounding
What's given is not lost,
But blessing comes surrounding
The sacrifices' cost.

Now therefore let us follow
The path that Christ has trod-
To give up all our living
Should it bring one to God.

•  •  •  •  •

Behold the riches given
And let your heart reply,
My Jesus gave all heaven-
Now, all to Him give I!

Taken from 2 Corinthians 8:9-11

Seedtime and Harvest

Leaves sprinkle themselves outside. Trees are showing twinges of red. Why talk of planting when Autumn is nearly here? 

The lessons of seed sowing are timeless.  

•  •  •  •  •

Year by year the farmers take

The best of all their seed,

And by appearance make mistake

Discarding what they need.

But only when the grain is cast

Into the field of needs,

Is there preserved and saved at last

A harvest of more seeds.

Just as the grain is thrown away

Christ came to earth to die,

And yet His faith beheld the day

When more would meet His eye.

For He saw then, as we must see,

The great joy to be had.

When all to God is given free

The harvest will be glad!

The Gift of Pain

There is so much of it in this world. Rare is the day when a patient answers me in the negative. Huh? No pain? I croak. If they only knew how uncommon they are.

Two weeks have given me a taste of where the world lives. Small taste for sure. Nonetheless, it paints a different color to life. Endure. Get through. Look beyond. 

It's a gift- the pain. When a middle-aged patient is sobbing right there, moaning in distress, what is this 21 year old supposed to say? Maybe these last weeks will help to answer that question next time. 

Seems superficial though. The pangs of the world are too deep for human compassion. 

So the gift. Much bigger, as God does things. Musculoskeletal aches,  and tingling nerves aside. My pain by proxy on His back. Broader, deeper, sharper than anything etched in language, heavier than anything we can lift, is that burden. Willingly He shouldered what would have... should have crushed us. I can't relate to their pain, but He can. Therefore, He can gaze into the eyes of a hurting world, and say, I know. I felt that anguish times infinity.

So here's the call. Their pain is an opportunity for His love. Jesus doesn't just remove our burden of pain. Rather, He gives a burden of love in its place. It's a love that's willing to hurt, to pound with the pangs of the human heart. 

The aim is not in the hurting though. It's in the healing. Eternally. No more pain- for the former things are passed away. 

Let us be persuaded. There is a Balm in Gilead. Nothing shall separate us from it. No depth. No height. No throbbing ache. No nothing. The pain He took was deep, but His heart of love was deeper. 

Still is. 

Marvelous Love. Marvelous Gift. 

love.Me.more

{John 12:24-26, Matthew 20:28}

My English: {With help from Strong’s Concordance}

This is very true: A Seed of wheat must fall into the earth and give away its breath, its life, or else that Seed will remain alone. But, by yielding it’s existence, the seed is multiplied. 

(Self-sacrifice is really self-preservation. Self-serving is self-destruction. The seed that protects itself has no fruit at harvest time. Only in giving is there gain.)

If you are a friend to your own life, if you fondle over your breath, you will smother it. But if you love temporal life less, you will be preserved. You will guard, keep, and save your breath for the place, time, and purpose of eternal life. 

If you are My friend, come walk with Me on the road I travel. Accompany Me. Be My servant. Wherever I go, My servant will go and do there what I ask of them. If you are My friend, your breath, will be prized by My Father. He will hold it dear. He will honor it. It will be beloved by the One who gave it: the One who also calls you to love it less. 

In exactly the same way as I ask you to love your life less, I came. I was born with the face of a human on this earth- not to be accompanied or served, but to perform menial duties, to serve, and to give up My breath, which means freedom for you. 

That’s the way I am.

    I gave My life to the soil of humanity. Will you?

        I walked through life as a servant. Will you?

            I gave My breath for you. But will you give yours for Me?

Whatever the cost, whatever is lost, despise not My cross,

love.Me.more

For the Love of Sacrifice

Too often, it is reduced to a cotton-candy fluffiness. Nothing to satisfy. Nothing worth the price to gain.

Yet, it’s most gripping revelation is in sacrifice.

Where there is no sacrifice, there is no love.

But where there is Love, can it be called sacrifice? For the one who loves, nothing is too much to give. The genuine stuff doesn’t shrink at the word “all”. Love delights in it. Beyond the point of pain, Love gives. And loves to do it. 

The soldier’s sacrifice? It’s as nothing. For the King has taken pain from the hands of death. The scaffold, the fire, the dungeon, the most inhumane atrocity cannot sever one soul from His love. 

But at the cross, mystery. Love cut off from Love. Sacrifice beyond measure. Beyond comprehension. 

He gave, yet said, I delight. 

I give, and call it sacrifice. 

Oh, for the love that shrinks at nothing… and gives because it is it’s greatest delight to do so. To know no sacrifice save His, because mine has faded into absolute nothingness in the light of the love of the cross. 

Oh, to love sacrifice, because I love His love. 

Sacrifice Shines

      The early morning light awakens me. I turn to prayer. Time passes, but the natural golden glow of morning is missing. Something is strange. 

      Finger finds phone: 1:47. No wonder. I drop to my knees before the window which illuminates my room. What I find is obviously not the ruler of the day, but that of night. A halo of brilliant light, hemmed with pastels, encircles the glowing sphere, full and beautiful. I gaze in admiration for the Creator of it all. 

      All of a sudden, my eyes see something beyond the circle of light. Beams pierce through the dark of night in a veritable cross-roads of light. The giant reflector is not only surrounded by a circular glow, but in the center of a cross of light. The lines are distinct. I blink, but it’s still there. My gaze continues. 

Gentle voice: When you behold Me with your full face -just as the moon is full-, that is when I am reflected the best in your countenance. When you are on the cross, that is when your life shines the brightest of the cross.

“On the cross? ...we’re supposed to pick up our cross and follow You.”  We wouldn’t be on the cross then, right?

Again: Did you expect to take the cross and never die? What is the ultimate end of crucifixion?

Thoughts swirl. The darkness of death begets the brilliance of birth. The Prince of life took His cross to the place of death. A cross borne after Him has but one end. 

Quietly: Sacrifice shines. If you want to glow like the sun, stay in the center of the cross. 

Elmshaven - A Place of Sacrifice

A place of history... a place of commitment... a place of sacrifice.

Flowers do not cease their blossom in a place of sacrifice. At the age when many seek retirement and relief from caring labor, Mrs. White continued her toil in the gospel field. Letters, book writing and editing, an incredible amount of preaching, a steady stream of guests, visitation, evangelism, medical missionary work filled her life.

Early morning hours were no strangers to Mrs. White. This is the chair in Mrs. White's bedroom in which she often studied and wrote.

One of the tile bordered fireplaces of the home.

Much was written during Mrs. White's time at Elmshaven. Volumes 6-9 of Testimonies for the Church; The Ministry of Healing; Gospel Workers; & Education among other books; numerous articles, and letters written from a heart that loved her Savior, a heart that shrank not from sacrifice.

How can a person live so continually for God and others? How can a person  endure constant sacrifice? 

When sacrifice springs from love, love creates its perception. Love engulfs it, turning it into something unimaginable. The sacrifice is still there, but the eyes look higher. They see the Love that changes any offering into privilege, and sacrifice to joy.

The carriage often took Mrs. White to her neighbor's doors, to visit them, pray for, and encourage them. 

Elmshaven may be a National Historic Landmark, but history is passed. Yes, Elmshaven saw sacrifice... and it also saw love... A deep love for humanity and for the One Altogether Lovely... An active life lived from love for God's service. But what of Your-haven and My-haven? Do we know sacrifice?

Do we know Love?

To Have the Faith of Jesus

Oh to have the faith of Job,
When in the floods we are
To see beyond this earthly globe,
To brighter scenes afar

To have the faith of Stephen,
When facing sacrifice
To not withhold the giving,
Of any cost or price

To have the faith of Jesus,
That conquers self and sin
To talk it more, to live it more,
To cherish it within 

To keep the faith of Jesus,
When tested, tried, and worn
To keep it's fullness in our lives,
Unto that perfect morn