Why God Bottles Our Tears

At times I've wondered why the Psalmist wrote that Got puts all our tears in a bottle (Psalm 56:8). I thought about it again recently, as a hidden heartache caused fresh tears to flow.... Is He really collecting these, one by one, and--for what?

Suddenly I saw in mind's eye Queen Lucy of Narnia and her cordial. I saw her bending lovingly to pour it on battle wounds.

"If ...any of your friends are hurt, a few drops will restore them." 

That's when what I've already known came back in a new light: my tears are for healing others who shed tears. 

Can there be true ministry without pain? Can I "weep with those who weep" if I haven't first wept alone? And how much healing can I offer anyone if I haven't known hurt myself?

I don't know, can't know for sure, but I do wonder if this is why God is so fond of our tears. If this is why He saves every drop until such time for us to pour them out again.

What on Earth Do You Do With the Resurrection? (Musings for a Skeptic)

I have often speculated about what kind of person I'd be had I not been raised in a Christian home. Here's what I'm pretty sure of:

How Do I "Do it All?"

Image from npr.org

I've spent a lot of time pondering why many of us are too busy. I devoted two chapters in my book listing the reasons we do so much. But lately I've come to realize some of my assessment of people's hyperactivity has been uninformed and unfair; there's another, more noble reason some of us over-commit and over-do: there is simply no one else willing to do what needs to be done. At least, not in plain view.

Even though I'm presently trying to juggle being a wife, mother, homeschooler, housekeeper, minister, speaker and writer, I am also extremely tempted to take someone into our home for the simple reason that she has no place to go. Even though my husband and children are 100% on board with it, I know for a fact this would raise some eyebrows, shake some heads and wag some tongues. I can hardly blame anyone for feeling I need to have my brain extracted and rewired.

The Homeless Man in My House

Image from Smithsonianmag.com

Last summer I took a homeless man into my home for an overnight stay. His stench followed him up the stairs where he steamed up my bathroom with a hot shower-- using my bath soap, wash cloth and towel.

My Visit to a Safe House for Girls of the Sex Slave Industry

Image from www.sharedhope.org

"Front door opening," announced the electronic voice as I entered the kitchen where *Shayla was busily preparing Valentine's candy for an upcoming banquet. I walked past the cubbies where girls hang their coats and studied her face for a moment.

"Do you like school?" I asked.

What else do you ask a sixteen-year-old who's spent most of her existence earning her keep from a pimp's bed?

The Skeptic Who Got "Struck Christian" (A Book Review)

                                    

I first discovered Joan Ball through a Facebook comment she made on someone's post that read something to this effect: "Not everyone is seeking. Not everyone feels a 'hole in their heart' and is longing for something more than the 'here and now.'"

A Return to "The Shack"--A Reflection on the Children of Sandy Hook Elementary

I know the best thing to do for the families in Connecticut right now is to sit in silence and mourn their losses with them, like Job's friends did before they opened their big, fat mouths for forty chapters. To light candles, send cards, or whatever our hearts direct in the way of sensitivity and compassion.

But I also respect the fact that so many are asking the "why" questions we always ask when things like this happen. So I've dusted off my copy of The Shack to highlight a portion of the book that may help those who are trying to sort out their thoughts and beliefs about God in times like this.

Election Reflection from a Peace-loving Patriot

I stayed in bed for a long time this morning, feeling the need for comforting hugs from people who share my sentiments. I felt alone, yet connected to far-away friends whom I know are also saddened and concerned for our future. I'd had a good cry as the election results rolled in last night.

When (God's) People Disappoint

Some time ago a woman told me she’d decided to leave her church (for what seemed to me a silly reason). “Only three people had the gumption to call and say they’d miss me,” she lamented over the phone. “I’m so disappointed!”

I Just Want to Be a Mom--Sincerely, the Preacher

I never signed up, exactly, to become an author and to plant a church at the same time, all the while mothering four kids and trying to be a good wife. In fact, I’ve spent years judging others for having too many irons in the fire (confession time!). Suddenly, I’m meeting publishing deadlines and preparing sermons and hoping my kids have eaten breakfast.

Joyce Meyer says it’s almost become fashionable to be too busy. If that’s true, I’ll dress for comfort, thank you very much. But these days, it seems I have no choice.

Some of my friends have expressed envy—they’d love to have a book coming out, a ministry pedestal and the like. It is to those friends I must continue confessing the truth:

"God is Good" and Other Annoying Platitudes

Have you ever noticed that when people say, “God is good!” it’s often in the context of God doing something good for them?

I got the job! God is good!

They accepted our offer! Isn’t God good?

No more chemo! God is so good!

We won a trip to Disney World! God is good to us!

God does delight in giving us good things (James 1:17), and we are right to give Him glory when good things happen. But I have a confession to make: On bad days, when I hear the proclamation, I'm sometimes tempted to think, Of course He’s good. You just got a blessing.

Meditations from Adopted Ducklings

One of our hens, Gloria, took it upon herself to sit on four fertilized duck eggs until they hatched. They are now more than twice the size they are in this photo, and she still thinks they’re hers. Gloria is so fiercely protective of her adopted “chicks” that she sustained an eye injury and has bald spots on her head from fighting off other hens who get too close.

My Visit to the 'Burbs and the Scoop on the Celebs Who Live There

This past week I had the privilege of speaking to the MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group in the Bedford Hills area outside of New York City. A well-known TV personality lives three miles down the road from my wonderful and gracious hostess and MOPS hospitality queen, Julie. "She gives out king-sized Snickers on Halloween," Julie said of the celebrity. But Julie would just as soon buy her own candy bar at the grocery store, where she runs into the famous "entertainment queen" on a semi-regular basis.

Why I'm Not Mad at God (New Thoughts on Unemployment)

Yesterday. Rain, grey skies, and a phone call. They hired the "lesser" candidate. We've been here many times before.

On Open-Mindedness and The Origin of Life

We all like to think we’re open-minded. (Well, I suppose there are those who consciously don't want to be. I think I know some of them. Do you?) I’ve been thinking about the definition for a while, and generally I believe that open-mindedness means having open ears, and a willingness to understand and learn.

But lately I’m wondering if being open-minded could mean something more:

The Angry Old Testament God and How I Feel About Him

My daily Bible reading is currently taking me through the prophet books, and old feelings surface as I read Ezekiel, Obadiah, Amos.... God was ticked!


Then I get to Jonah and read, "...go to Ninevah...and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up against Me," and I think, There He goes again.

The Green-Eyed Monster and Why I Want Your Half of the Cookie

I love discovering talented bloggers on the internet. That is, unless they have more talent than me. It happened recently; I stumbled upon yet another brilliant and hilarious writer with enough profundities to elicit hundreds of comments from hundreds of followers. I read several posts before going to bed and then, do you know what I did? I'll tell you what I did. No I won't. Yes I will.

You Call This a Fast?

When my pastor asked the congregation to join him in a prolonged fast, I was tempted to decline. Grace and freedom, you know—the stuff of spiritual “maturity.” God will tell me when to fast, thank you.

My Sermon on the Mount: A Paraphrase

Feel free to sit here and listen while I preach to myself.

Matthew 5:1-16 (This is not meant to be an exhaustive commentary, just some scribblings and ponderings.):

Blessed are those who know they have much more to learn than they have to teach, and who are more eager to listen than to speak. The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to the humble and the hungry.

Coming out of My Funk

I've been in a bit of a funk. It was over silly stuff - people who don't read and/or google. People who don't come to visit me (which was everyone, I was convinced. They think I live a thousand miles out on the tundra, when in fact I live exactly five minutes from town, if I'm the one who's driving. Eight if it's Dave.) Of course I was ignoring the other reasons why I think "no one comes to visit:"