For the (I don’t know) thirty-fourth year in a row, I rang my grandfather’s little Rotary Club bell and called out “He is risen!”

“I have not!” replied my good-natured husband. My grandson came to the top of the stairs and asked, quizzically “Why are you ringing that bell?” “Because Jesus is alive” I answered, realizing that the logic of ringing of bells is not as familiar as it was during my childhood.

Our church had a sandstone tower with a big bell that was attached to a rope which hung down from the ceiling of a small closet on the children’s Sunday School hall. Every week, we took a turns pulling on the thick rope which rang the bell that called the church family to come for worship.

I have another sweet memory of Mr. and Mrs. Emory, teaching our second-grade Sunday School a sweet Easter song full of memorable imagery: “Comes the wondrous hour every heart knows well. Every little flower has a lovely bell. All the birds are happy, all the church bells ring. Christ the Lord is risen. Glory to the King.”

It would be several more years until I fully understood the good news ringing out from those bells. I have vivid memories of Easter 1972, now forty-five years ago, after God was pleased to reveal His Son to me . The ringing of bells became an “ebenezer,” a reminder that God’s promises are true, and continuing to unfold.

Two years later, 2nd Chapter of Acts, a popular band during the infancy of contemporary Christian Music, released “Easter Song,” which  is just as joyful four decades later, and calls us to a fresh understanding of the truth that Jesus is ALIVE. Here’s the original version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G-hLSR5F4Y0&feature=share

One year ago (it was Thanksgiving Day), my dad won his battle with Parkinson’s Disease. Those last six years definitely fell in the “fiery trial” category, yet as his body was diminishing, his soul was bursting forth because of his conviction that new life was just around the corner.

Dad loved driving new places just to enjoy the topography. He would have enjoyed our northwest road trip this fall. On a map, our course was like a big horseshoe from Seattle to Salt Lake City. In one long day, traveling east from Portland, we followed the midnight blue Columbia River that borders Oregon and Washington, then turned northeast through Washington farmland and beautiful Courd’alene, Idaho . . . then after dinner, we cut through the Cascade Mountain range and finally stopped in Butte, Montana.

That fourteen hour drive, observing America’s geographical diversity, didn’t compare to the next two days in Yellowstone National Park, with its lakes and forests and canyons and waterfalls and prairie land spotted with steaming, sulfurous, bubbling cauldrons that camouflage a potential super volcano. Entering from the West, one of the first things we saw was a jarring swath of devastation . . . a pick-up-sticks forest full of burnt out lodgepole pines (many grow 130-160 feet high).

During a sunset tour of the Lake Yellowstone area, our guide told about the last major fire event in 1988, and what fire ecologists have learned about how important these fires are to Yellowstone’s vegetation.

The trees produce what scientists call a serotinous pine cone. Resins hold the scales of the tiny cones tightly closed with the seeds inside, and they can remain in the crowns of the trees for 30 to 50 years. Without fire, the seeds would likely never be released. “What’s necessary for those cones to open up and release those seeds is the heat that’s generated from a passing fire,” Renkin says. “Once the fire burns through those resins that hold them together, the cone scales open up and the seeds fall out.”

After the seeds fall to the forest floor, the germination process begins quickly. The heat from the passing fires does not penetrate more than a few centimeters into the earth, which allows the material below ground — nutrients and soils — to give life to the next generation of trees. We were shown where the forest has been virtually restored in less than thirty years. (below zoom to see how tiny little pines have already sprung up despite a recent wildfire).

The miracle of fire and pine cones has come to mind several times since October 15th, (dad’s 90th birthday) when I began anticipating the first anniversary of his departure. Strangely, my greatest comfort and challenge has been the ecologist’s words : “Without fire, the seeds would likely never be released . . . What’s necessary for those cones to open up and release those seeds is the heat that’s generated from a passing fire.”

After we left Yellowstone via the South Entrance, we drove through a two-week-old area that still smelled like a burning campfire, even through closed windows (see below). Although the outer scenery was ravaged, we now knew the secret of another of our Creator’s promises to restore what seems to be forever lost.

First Thessalonians 5:1-8: “For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 2 For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, 3 if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. 4 For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 5 He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. 6 So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, 7 for we walk by faith, not by sight. 8 Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.”

Last night I was in charge of  coordinating a churchwide “connecting event” that signaled the end of summer and the advent of fall. Homemade cookies, fresh popped corn and eight flavors of snow cones awaited us, but first we all crammed into the Chapel, where our pastor shared these words: “For I long to see you, that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to strengthen you— that is, that we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith, both yours and mine.”  (Paul’s letter to the Christians in Rome 1:11-12)

1. I long to see you. How many people would give anything to experience a sense of community, a spiritual family, to be known and to really know others?
2. That I may impart to you a gift to strengthen you. As I enter a gathering  of people, is my tendency to consider how God might use me to uplift others, or what I will receive from them?
3. That we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith.  My dear friend, who is suffering right now, appeared at my side as I was busy with volunteers–she faithfully “showed up”, which encouraged the rest of us. Today was my turn to be physically present, which bolstered her soul for those few hours.
4. Both yours and mine. Your faith matters to me. My faith matters to you. “Speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.” Ephesians 4:15-16

Afterward, a couple of hundred people poured out into the Gathering Hall and the still-summery evening air, greeting and meeting and eating and feeling a little lighter. Each one of us can become more intentional about initiating connections in one-to-one or one-to-few relationships and small groups of various sizes and shapes and purposes. We must be brave enough to say, “Hello, I’m new” and cognizant enough to say, “Hello, how can I help?”

Today’s Ebenezer: Twenty-three years in community with other fellow pilgrims and strugglers at Grace Community Church of Nashville.

“Healing is impossible in loneliness; it is the opposite of loneliness. Conviviality is healing. To be healed we must come with all the other creatures to the feast of Creation.” Wendell Berry

My mother was 26 when I was born, full of life and dreams, I suppose, for her two little daughters (we would eventually become three on my 5th birthday). Now she is 86, and her memories of ever being a mother, or a wife or a teacher seem to have disappeared from her cortex by that robber called Alzheimer’s Disease.

She was married to my father for 64 years and adored him right up until their last morning together; but since the day he passed away, she has only mentioned him once or twice. It’s heart-breaking for those who know that somewhere in there, our mother’s essence still resides.

Because she still remembers God. She still senses Jesus’ help and prays eloquently.

Two weeks ago she rode away from the skilled nursing center where my father was cared for his last three years, and where she eventually joined him so they could at least see each other most days. There, her basic needs were met, and low wage workers did their best, but she received very. little. stimulation. and she literally . . . faded . . . away.

One recent Sunday afternoon, something snapped in my sister, and she set out to find a different placement. She discovered a new concept in assisted living memory care, a “neighborhood” of several houses with residents of varying needs living in a home-like (versus institutional) atmosphere, where an aide was frosting a cake in an open kitchen where residents were nearby in the  family room or in another house for an activity or hair appointment.

My sister was convinced that this setting was out of reach because of my mother’s stage of decline. She did everything she could to convince the evaluator that it would be a mistake to accept her. But my mom was warmly welcomed, with all of her quirks and needs. For all our fears, she didn’t even register that she had been moved, except to say, “You need to come visit quick, before they take down all these beautiful decorations!”

We know that the most stimulating setting will not slow down the onslaught of this disease–one week in, she qualified for hospice care. But imagine our surprise a few days ago, when we received a screenshot of our mother on Fox 4 News, working on a letter of encouragement to kindergarteners at a local school!

This is my “Ebenezer” for today . . . for I know whom I have believed, and I am convinced that he is able to guard until that Day what has been entrusted to me.” 2 Timothy 1:11

 

Today is another “big” birthday, so I’m told. When I was a kid, I imagined what  life would be like in 2056, assuming of course, that I would live to be 100. Today my perspective is a bit more clear: I will be alive in 2056, but (statistically speaking) my address will probably be “Heaven.” All year, this factoid has made me more reflective about how I will choose to live out the next 40 years (or 21.1 if I’m an average, white American female).

Here are three things that have given me perspective about entering yet another decade:

1. Many people dread turning 30 or 40 or 50, etc. You know, I was actually happier at 50 than at 40 or 30! And another thing. Maybe it’s because I’m mathematically challenged, but I only recently realized that when you turn #, you’ve already lived out that number of years, so why should you dread the approach of any one birthday?
2. I have now been a disciple of Jesus for 75% of my life! The thought that He has kept me in faith all of these years, in spite of all my fears and failures, encourages and energizes me! “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.” 2 Corinthians 4:16
3. The best birthday card I ever received asked . . . “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?” I considered the age when I was my truest self, still creative, playful, confident, curious, hopeful . . . not unimaginative, subdued, timid, apathetic or cynical . . . for me that age was 7, and I like to picture that in Christ I am moving back toward that soul-age, even as my face wrinkles and my “powers” diminish.

My “Ebenezer” for my 60th birthday, comes from the journals of Madeleine L’Engle: “The challenge I face with children is the redemption of adulthood. We must make it evident that maturity is the fulfillment of childhood and adolescence, not a diminishing; that it is an affirmation of life, not a denial; that it is entering fully into our essential selves. I don’t go along with people who say they’d never want to live their childhoods again; I treasure every bit of mine, all the pains as well as the joy of discovery. But I also love being a grownup. To be half a century plus is wonderfully exciting because I haven’t lost any of my past and am free to stand on the rock of all the past has taught me as I look towards the future.”  (A Circle of Quiet)

 

cour ~ age     noun

Origin: Middle English denoting the heart as the seat of feelings; Old French corage ; from Latin cor  ‘heart’

Recently I felt fear, the emotional response to a known or definite threat. The danger was real and immediate. There was a clear and present object of fear.

I actually respond better in a true crisis, thanks to our inborn fight or flight stress response. Without it, our mind would not receive the danger signal and our bodies would not be prepared to flee or to stay and battle the danger.

More familiar to me is the force of anxiety, a shifting sense of apprehension about an unknown threat. The symptoms are often the same as fear: a tightening in my chest, shortness of breath, racing thoughts . . . but my body does not have anything of substance to flee or fight.

Whether I am experiencing fear or anxiety, I need courage, “the ability and willingness to confront fear, pain, danger, uncertainty or intimidation.” In some traditions, the word fortitude holds the same meaning.

Ancient Greeks considered it one of four cardinal virtues.

Ancient Romans thought it formed part of vertis, a habit of mind.

Eastern traditions state that courage is derived from love (“慈 loving 故 causes 能 ability 勇 brave”)

Moderns like Thomas Hobbes and David Hume considered courage a natural virtue, a strength of mind.

In both Catholicism and Anglicanism, courage is one of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit.

All of these interest me, but it does me no good to hear someone say “be brave.”  Courage is not naturally within me.  If it comes from the Holy Spirit, it must be because 1) we have need of it and 2) we cannot generate it in ourselves and 3) God loves us enough to supply it.

“So be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid and do not panic before them. For the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you.” Deuteronomy 31:6 (New Living Translation)

So  “loving causes ability brave.” Do I really trust in God’s love for me?

April, 2015 The Gospel Coalition Conference

“Coming Home:New Heaven & New Earth“

(watch video clip by clicking above)

Audio and Video Resources now available (read more here)

“By his divine power, God has given us everything we need for living a godly life. We have received all of this by coming to know him, the one who called us to himself by means of his marvelous glory and excellence. And because of his glory and excellence, he has given us great and precious promises. These are the promises that enable you to share his divine nature and escape the world’s corruption caused by human desires. 2 Peter 1:3  (New Living Translation)

My greatest disappointment with God is when he has not met my expectations. Often, what I perceive as a broken promise is really a misinterpretation of a promise or something he never pledged to do. Often, the faith, hope, love, peace, joy, strength or comfort I lack, is due to my failure to believe or receive the promises he has made and is keeping.

365 is a spot for Everyday Ebenezers readers who need a daily reminder that God is faithful. I’ll be adding hundreds of promises from scripture, ultimately one per day to use for meditation and continuous prayer. I will also write short posts on those that seem confusing or more difficult to believe or respond to.

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It’s true that we should not discount, and must continue learning to own and name our feelings. It is also critical that we simultaneously talk to our souls. The flesh-marred mind is where the daily battle rages and where the Spirit helps us to fight against the remainders of sin that reside in our mortal flesh (Galatians 5: 16-17).

We must be learning to not only stay alert, but start taking ground  to keep trusting that all the Father has purposed and all the Son has purchased, the Spirit within us is constantly working to creatively apply and supply to us. Can we trust Father, Son and Spirit to keep those promises? Will we?

“For all of God’s promises have been fulfilled in Christ with a resounding ‘Yes!’ And through Christ our ‘Amen’ (which means ‘Yes’) ascends to God for his glory.” 2 Corinthians 1:20

“Not a single one of all the good promises the Lord had given to the family of Israel was left unfulfilled; everything he had spoken came true.” Joshua 21:45

“God’s way is perfect. All the Lord’s promises prove true. He is a shield for all who look to him for protection.” 2 Samuel 22:31

“Praise the Lord who has given rest to his people Israel, just as he promised. Not one word has failed of all the wonderful promises he gave through his servant Moses.” 1 Kings 8:56

“The Lord’s promises are pure, like silver refined in a furnace, purified seven times over.” Psalm 12:6

“Then I will praise you with music on the harp, because you are faithful to your promises, O my God. I will sing praises to you with a lyre, O Holy One of Israel.” Psalm 71:22

“He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection.” Psalm 91:4

One moment can change everything.

A door is opened, a volcano erupts.

A door is closed, I am entombed.

Fearfully or gallantly we rise and act.

We do our best until the shockwaves dissipate.

Shakily we emerge to survey the damage.

The one spared may rejoice and thank God.

The one devastated may rail,

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Both experienced tragedy and shudder.

Each is intertwined, each is forever altered.

What reservoir can contain the icy passion

that will not soon melt or evaporate?

Can flowers emerge from hardened lava? 

Martha said, “Lord if you had been here my brother would not have died.” The flow of her heart is toward despair, but Jesus is pushing against that flow. He’s rebuking her doubt and giving her hope.

Mary says exactly the same thing, “Lord if you had been here my brother would not have died” . . . but instead of pushing against the flow of her heart’s sadness, he bursts into tears.

“Where have you laid him?” Jesus asked. “Come and see, Lord,” they replied. Jesus wept. Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” John 11:17-36

“Now frankly, everybody needs a ministry of truth and a ministry of tears . . . [Jesus] is the truth itself come in tears . . . You would think if a person were really divine, he wouldn’t be that emotionally exposed, but he is.”

[Excerpted from Timothy Keller, Encounters with Jesus, (“The Grieving Sisters” pp. 43, 51).

          

Click here to learn more about a new page on The Ebenezer Project:

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[download and print the pdf below]

“7 Weeks Praying the Psalms“