Is There a GPS for That?

     Lost, confused, bitter, frustrated...Do these words sound familiar? Surely, someone besides me has found themselves in a place that they did not intend to go and most definitely did not intend to stay. All the while, we grow more frustrated and bitter by the second as we try to figure out how in the world to get out of the mess we have so encapsulated ourselves within.  It feels that way, right? North, south, east, west...choose a direction.  We're not getting out.  All sense of direction is gone. We were so busy paying attention to everything but the road that we don't know how we've gotten to where we are at; much less, how to look at a map to get us back to where we should have been before things went so desperately wrong.
      All this talk of being lost reminds me of the mall.  I like the mall. I go there a lot, but that's another blog. You walk up to those nice maps that help us to navigate through the mall. You look for a store. You find it. The problem is you can't find the "You are here" sticker. The one that tells you where you are at at that very moment. You don't know where you're at. All you know is you parked your car, walked into the mall, and got the profound idea to look at the map. So, you're standing there staring at a map, acting like you know what you are doing. When in all actuality, you don't know where you are at, and you, surely, have no clue as to what direction to walk to get yourself to where you want to go. You are utterly lost.
    Once, a couple of summers ago, I got the notion that I would like to take myself to Hanging Rock State Park. There are two things you need to know at this point in the story. I had never actually been to Hanging Rock State Park, and let's just say, I'm not the most technologically savvy person in the universe or on the planet. Either one works. It wasn't looking good for me. Google Maps was not even on my radar nor my phone. So, I decided I would print the directions off from a website on my computer, and away, I went.
     Things were going well. I was moving in the right direction. Until, I got to the last few steps in my driving instructions. Don't forget. These were my directions. I had decided I was going to follow them to the end.  After a few turns, that little voice inside my head said to me, " Victoria, I believe you have made a wrong turn somewhere." Did I turn around? Nope. Once again, I have MY directions. I get to the last road. It seems sort of suspect. Actually, it wasn't even paved. Well, if I wanted to be more descriptive, there was mud from here to yonder, and there were ruts in this road that a small child could have gotten himself lost in. Against all good sense, I keep going, mud flying, dodging ruts, because I am following MY directions.       
     Now, I knew I was in some dangerous territory. I had decided if I had to get my Jeep towed out of this mess that I had best just have the tow truck driver drop me off at the nearest hotel. In the words of Ricky Ricardo, I'd a had some splaining to do to my probably, not so understanding, husband. I figured, no matter how very much I tried to sugar coat it, it was going to be real hard to try to explain to him why I had gotten myself stuck on a backwoods country road, covered in mud, near the border of Virginia.
     Even so, I pushed on to my final destination. I had arrived...to a big, flat field of nothing. There wasn't even a stinking cow to greet me, nor a tree, or a house, and definitely not a sign that read Hanging Rock State Park. I really had thought I was going somewhere.  The truth, I wasn't going anywhere, and I was so lost that it took me many attempts to get to where I really should have been.  It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out I was looking at the wrong directions.
      How in the world do we manage to get ourselves so incredibly lost? Figuratively speaking, how do we manage to end up in a deserted field that has nothing to offer us. It's a destination that leaves us empty, let down, and confused. There are even warnings signs, evidences that we are not moving in the right direction, but we manage to blow right through them. Where, oh, where did we go wrong?
      Psalms 84:4 reads Blessed are they that dwell in Thy house: they will be still praising Thee.  Anna was a Jew who was continually in the Temple of Jerusalem. The book of Luke describes her encounter with Jesus forty days after his birth. And there was one Anna, a prophetess, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Aser: she was of a great age, and lived with an husband seven years from her virginity; And she was a widow of about fourscore and four years, which departed not from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day.  And she coming in the instant gave thanks likewise to the Lord, and spoke of him to all them that looked for redemption in Jerusalem.
     There were somethings about Anna that I found impressive. First, Anna's family had a history of tragedy. Seven hundred years earlier, a large part of her tribe had been carried off in captivity to Assyria. It's unclear if Anna's immediate family were a part of this group, but it is clear that they would have been part of a devastating separation. Even after hundreds of years, only a remnant of the tribe or Asher/Aser remained. Tragedy was woven into the tapestry of her people. Anna herself suffered the loss of her husband while in her early twenties. Anna knew heartbreak.
     Somehow, Anna's family had made their way to Jerusalem.  At the time of Christ's birth, there was a large population of Gentiles living in the city. Continuously spending ones life in the Temple would not have won you a popularity contest.  Anna was going against the grain.
     One more interesting fact about Anna, she, more than likely, wouldn't have been overly liked by the Jewish community, either.  Lest we forget, Anna was a part of a dwindling tribe.  She became a widow somewhere around the age of twenty-one.  The expectation would have been for her to remarry and have children. The tribe of Asher needed all the children they could manage to round up.  It's safe to say the Anna was probably an outsider who was viewed as eccentric.
     Some believe that Anna was eighty four at the time of her encounter with the Messiah. Others say she was somewhere around the age of one hundred five. Either way, she was old. I would like to believe that she was one hundred five. So, how did Anna manage to stay on the right path, the path that led her straight to the newborn Messiah?  How did she stay faithful with so many obstacles in her way?
    The answer lies in Anna's location. She was constantly at the temple. That means she was continually seeking to be in the presence of God.  She pursued Him night and day.  She sought to be His servant through fastings and prayers  Nothing was going to stand in the way of Anna hearing her God's voice, not heartbreak, social stigma, loneliness, or age. She stripped it all away to be able to hear His voice at exactly the right time.  Anna was able to prophesy about the most profound movement of God that this world will ever experience because she relentlessly pursued His presence.
     Ladies, what are we willing to rid ourselves of? What are we willing to say no to in order to pursue our King? How many directions are we pulled? How often do we strive to be what everyone around us says we should be?  Christ says, "No! Come into my presence. Hear my voice. Follow me." Anna didn't give up a wrong life. She gave up a life that was wrong for her.  She was able to live her story because she continuously indulged herself in the presence of her Lord.
     It is my desire to be an Anna, that I would lay all things aside to engulf myself in a relationship with my Father.  I long to never look at my directions, or expected directions, or everyone else's directions but to live out, in fullness, the unique life that He has called me to.  I long to never end up back in that deserted field, empty, let down, and confused. I long to not miss what is important, the way that Anna didn't miss the most earth shattering event in human history.  More than anything, oh, how I simply long to hear His voice...
    
     
    
    
    

Can You See Him?

     How much is too much?  How much of myself, my story, my struggles, my victories do I share? Does it matter? Does it matter that I share with other Christians? Does it matter that I share with those who don't believe?  I had to answer that very question, once again, this week. 

     I'm not much for meeting perfect strangers.  There are days that I feel I could mostly go my whole life and never interfere with someone who really has no desire to involve themselves with me.  My son, Jack, ruins that whole plan. I've come to recognize that it's God ordained. Let's just say Jack stretches me, as he did this week while we were camping.  The couple camping behind us never knew what hit them. One minute, they are alone.  The next minute, a five year old is breathing down their necks trying to catch a glimpse of the fishing rod that the older gentleman was putting together for a fishing trip to the nearest lake. When I say he was in their personal space, I mean he was within inches of the poor fella doing the work and almost had pole in hand. My first reaction, Wow! How does he move that fast? My second reaction, Great. Here we go, again. I'm going to have to explain to these people why my son feels that everybody is his friend and hope they are not completely annoyed. Like I said, Jack stretches me. Moms of social butterflies are smiling. You, too, have been in my shoes.
  
  Turns out, they weren't annoyed at all. Not that that's not the typical reaction. It's rare that I run across a person who doesn't like kids and all you can do is apologize profusely and move on, quickly. They asked about Jack. I told them about his adoption and about the other couples in our church who were or had adopted. They told me about their children. I told them about mine. I knew I was on thin ice. That little voice inside of my head was saying, You are getting yourself into something you are going to have to explain. Then, it happened, the next question. I knew it was coming. These days, I can almost predict exactly where in in the conversation it will fall. It's the next logical question. Everybody asks it. Didn't you say you had two other children? How old are they? I hesitated for a moment and said the only thing I knew to say, the truth. "My daughter Hannah is fifteen. My son Miles would have been seventeen this year. He passed away a few years ago." I was choking back tears. Sometimes, that happens. Sometimes, it doesn't. Problem is, I can never predict which way my emotions will go. This day, they didn't go the direction I was hoping for.
   
 To say that was a turning point in the conversation would be an understatement.  I got a quick, "I'm sorry." There was silence, some polite goodbyes, and I got myself out of there as quickly as I had gotten myself into this very uncomfortable situation.  It made me rethink this idea of transparency.  Is it worth it? How does it effect the people that we come into contact with? I'm not taking tact off the table. We should have it. I probably should have had a little more. With that in place, should we be willing to allow believers and non-believers to see our most hidden parts, the parts that hurt the most, the parts we can't always control, the parts that we wished we didn't have to look at everyday? It is a risk. It's not always received. So, is it worth it?

     Galatians 6:2 tells us Bear one another's burdens, and thereby fulfil the law of Christ. The law being to love God with all of your heart and to love your neighbor as yourself.  MacArthur explains it this way Saving faith proves its genuine character by works of love. The person who lives by faith is internally motivated by love for God and Christ, which supernaturally issues forth in reverent worship, genuine obedience, and self-sacrificing love for others.  Paul is telling the church of Galatia, if you want others to see the love of Christ that is within you, it must be manifested out by carrying the burdens of other believers. The picture painted in Galatians 6:2 is of one believer going to another hurting believer, picking up this heavy weight of suffering, and carrying it with endurance. That means we don't give up on each another. It means that bearing one another's burdens is, as MacArthur stated, a supernatural work that can only be done through the power of Christ.

  
   So...what burden's did the church of Galatia have to bear? The Christians of Galatia faced persecution from the Jewish community. The Galatians, who were Gentiles, had begun to take on Jewish customs to help aviod persecution. They had become what we would call today fence straddlers, believing in Christ but taking on the Mosaic Law. The letter to Galatia was Paul's way of admonishing the new believers into holding firm to Christ. The Galatians were well aware of what happened to those who truly rocked the boat for Christ. The Apostles, including Paul, were flogged, stoned, imprisoned, and all but one Apostle died a martyr's death.
  
   Justin Martyr wrote this about Christian persecution some time around 100 years after the book of Galatians was written: Though beheaded, and crucified, and thrown to wild beasts, and chains, and fire, and all other kinds of torture, we do no give up our confession; but, the more such things happen, the more do others in large numbers become faithful.  Obviously, the killing of Christians was not having the desired affect that the Roman government had desired. Just the opposite, the Christian faith was growing!

     Sharing our hurts, the wounds we've sustained from living in a fallen world and struggling with the sin nature we all possess, has an affect on the glorification of Christ.  If we don't share with other believers, they never know to walk over and pick up that burden.  We are robbing them of the opportunity to reflect Christ in their own lives. When we love each other in a supernatural way, sometimes helping to carry a burden for years, going the distance when others would have given up, we prove that there's something to Christ. He causes miracles to happen. 
 
   One of the things I love most about my life with Christ is that He never works in the way that I expect Him to work. At the end of the day, sometimes, all I can say is, "Oh." and smile. God's economy works completely opposite of our own.  As is the case when we share our journey, sometimes a difficult one, with those who don't believe.  I would expect them to run for the hills, but as we see in the early church, when we share God's faithfulness to us which in turn creates a faith within ourselves, it draws others to the cross. The cross, also a place of great persecution.... Once again, Christ is glorified.
  
    My conclusion, to share my wounds with others is an act of worship. It shows the adoration that I have for the most faithful of Ones, my Jesus. It yells to a lost world, He is my Sustainer!  It says to other believers, " I believe that my Heavenly Father will be faithful through you. I believe that you will reflect Christ to me and to all the world."  In all things, Christ is glorified. After all, it is He, not I who is to be lifted up. It is and will always be about Him. 
  
    The next time I am tempted to hide the battle wounds of my journey, to believe that they don't matter,  I'm going to say, "Can you see that? "  No!... Even so much better, I think I'm just going to say, "Can you see Him?"

Justin Martyr
    
   

Backwards Looking

      Anybody who knows anything about adoption knows that Gotcha day is one of the most important days in the life of an adoptee and their family. It's the day that an adopted son or daughter comes to be a part of a family. Each subsequent year, the day is celebrated as a reminder of the beginning of a new life. Recently, the day marked our son's first year home.  It turned out to be much more important than Jack's birthday. It marked a changed life, the kind of life that each child deserves, the kind of life that is full of possibilities, the kind of life that entitles him to the benefits of being a Paxton. Some of those benefits: being rocked to sleep, being hugged, being kissed, being sang to, hearing  I love you, never being alone, having someone to kiss your boo boos, and being able to say, That's MY Mommy and Daddy. It is a simplest of lists with life changing implications.
      I started doing some backwards looking around the time of Jack's Gotcha Day.  In one year, his health has improved. His skin has cleared. He can speak English. He has settled in and become more confident and secure.  The idea of backwards looking occurred to me as I watched him take the stairs to Sunday School a few weeks ago, one foot per step without holding on to the rail.  A year ago, the scenario would have been vastly different. Two weeks ago, was Jack still a little wobbly? Did I want to stay close behind him to catch him if he fell? Absolutely. I had to stop and remind myself to look backwards at the progress he has made. He is no longer the frightened, clumsy, and confused kid that we knew a year ago. I had to say out loud, " Sometimes,  you have to look backwards to see how far you have come."
      It seems to me that this is a lesson all of us could be reminded of from time to time, this thing of backwards looking. How easily am I discouraged when I stumble and fall while traveling along my Christian journey?  Each of us have those things that make us stumble and fall. All as unique as the individual they oppress.  I catch myself  thinking these sorts of thoughts. Are you kidding me? Am I really right back here again?  I thought I had gotten past this.  Why am I so weak?  When will I ever stop letting this trip me up? Sound familiar? Ladies, we all know the feelings of failure that can quickly creep up on us when we least expect it.
      One of my favorite Bible verses is Hebrews 12:1.  Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud a witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin that doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us. I love to envision those who have gone before us, surrounding us, cheering us on.  Who better for such a job?  Paul tells us that this life is a race. Here, he is speaking of Greek races. The Greek Olympics were in full swing during Paul's lifetime. Those who read his letter would have known exactly what Paul was speaking of. Olympia terminology was commonplace throughout Paul's known world. The Greek word for race in this particular verse is ajgwvn.  It means a conflict, fight, contention, race. In other words, it is not a quick easy sprint. It is a marathon, a fight that takes great focus to win.  Paul makes it clear that this life will always have its ups and downs. The path can be, will be, difficult. We will fall, on occasion.
        We've established that the Christian race is not a cake walk. So, what happens when we trip over a hurdle and fall flat on our faces? Mind you, there are usually some spectators there to watch you crash and burn in your embarrassment. Sister....that's never a good day.  Backwards looking helps us to dust off the road rash and go for the next hurdle.  What has Christ delivered you from? Maybe, it is an addiction, lying, self hate, spiritual poverty, loneliness.  We all have a story. As Bob Jones stated, We don't get to choose the race that is placed in front of us. Sometimes, the hurdles are there before we ever arrive at the stadium. But, praise be to God, He is sanctifying us daily. Ladies, look at how far Christ has brought you! Best of all, we never have to go back to the start of the race, and the end is in sight. We have a prize that no one can take away from us,....no one. We are more than conquerors! Today, let's dust off our knees, do some backwards looking, and remember that Christ is our Deliverer.....Girls, I'll see ya at the races!

Extra Change

     Has anyone ever been in a checkout line only to realize that what you are buying is going to cost like ummmm...$.10 and all you have to pay with is a debit card?  This happened to me tonight at Walgreens.  Worst case scenario, there's a minimum purchase requirement, leaving me without my grandmother's one 4X6 photograph.  Least worst scenario, I lose face because I don't have a ridiculously small amount of change.  Having the large self esteem that I have, I start to search frantically through my pocketbook for change.  It's amazing what one can find in the bottom of one's purse: earrings, safety pins, a Spiderman glove, blue candy ( what a waste), one quarter, a dime, and three pennies. That's right, 38 cents.
     Now, I'm starting to get real worried, certain the tax is going to put me over the edge.  Grandma ain't going to be happy.  Fingers crossed, I wait for the total....$.16.  Yes! I hit the weekday jackpot.  Today is the Tuesday "You only have to pay $.15 for a picture" Sale.  All I have to say is, "Happy Tuesday, Ya'll!" ....Oh, and I have 12 cents, covered in blue candy, jingling in the bottom of my pocketbook.

     I started thinking about this extra change business along the time when my always encouraging friend, Valerie, announced that she had been cancer free for eight years. At the time, I wasn't thinking of it as change, but as blessings. This is what I mean. Valerie was in her checkout line of life. Checkout lines are fairly stress free until we realize we don't have the means to pay for the debt that is about to be incurred. Some of us...ahem, like me...dig like crazy through our purses to find enough money to pay the debt. For her, the debt was breast cancer. For some of us, it may be a husband who has walked out, a sick child, abuse, mental illness....the list could go on and on. For me, it was the death of my eldest son. The panic that can ensue is universal. We've all been there.

    Then, my mind took me a little further into this scenario.  While we're in the back of the line acting like a lunatic, we've forgotten to look up and see who's in charge of the debt. Of course, it's Jesus. I suppose he probably looks at our pathetic coins and just smiles. I think he would say something like this, " I got this. I had it 2000 years ago on the cross. I had it before you even knew you had a debt. Oh, and here's a little extra change to put in your pocket."

    Yes! The extra change!  We always get the extra change.  Valerie survived cancer and got her extra change via four beautiful children.  I am surviving the loss of my son, and Christ has given me a little extra change. His name's Jack.  Did I mention that all five of these children are adopted? That's right. Valerie and I are not the only ones who got some extra change. 

    Is there always going to be some blue candy stuck to the change, those things that are sweet to our heart but can't be recovered in this lifetime? Yes. I would like to say that I always focus on the extra change, but some days, I see more of the blue candy.  I'm sure if I asked Valerie, she would say she has some blue candy, too.  But that change, it's always jingling in my pocket.  It's the sound of my Father calling to me. It's His reminder to me...I love you, I love you, I love you. And, no matter where I roam or how much blue candy I see, I can't get away from the sound of the change in my pocket.

So...Do you have any extra change?