Being safe

Airports are not the greatest place for eating when you are gluten intolerant. The restaurants in my section of the Dallas airport ranged from sandwiches to fried food to more sandwiches. I finally located a Mexican restaurant and decided to try my luck. The only seat was at the bar, but the menu looked promising, and the service was clearly fast. "I'm in luck!" I thought. I had no idea. 

The server/bartender asked for my order. The grilled chicken salad was my choice, no tortilla bowl. No flour tortilla strips. "I can't have wheat," I explained. With a knowing look, he asked, "Do you mean you can't have wheat or you can't have gluten?" I was surprised. I did not expect this from a bartender. "Gluten," I replied. "Oh, we have a very strict allergy policy here. I will have to talk to the manager about your order." My first thought was that they didn't allow people with allergies to eat there. Silly me!  

In a quick flash, the young lady who was manager stopped by my seat. "If you can give me twelve minutes," she said, "I can make sure you are safe." Safe. Isn't that an amazing word?  Protected from harm or danger, "not likely to be harmed or lost".  Of course, I had twelve minutes to be safe. 

I can't remember the last time someone said they would keep me safe, but it sounded wonderful to me, and I've pondered that whole issue of being kept safe all afternoon. As hard as I tried to protect my son, Ryan, I could not keep him safe from every hurt or every danger. I don't imagine any parent can. As careful as I am about prescribing medications, there is no way to eliminate all danger to my patients. Traffic signals, speed limits, even patrolmen are all designed to keep us safe.  Maybe a better term is safer. As a society, we have devised numerous ways to increase our safety, yet people still get sick, accidents still happen, people still die. We aren't really safe, are we?

There is One, however, who offers eternal safety, and He never fails. I was really grateful for my "safe" chicken salad today, and more than happy to wait, but eternal safety? Now, that really is something worth waiting for. 

The Mission Statement (Luke 4:17-19)

"And He opened the book and found the place where it was written, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, Because He anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent Me to proclaim release to the captives, And recovery of sight to the blind, To set free those who are oppressed, To proclaim the favorable year of the Lord." (Luke 4:17-19 NASB)

Jesus was the man chosen to give the sermon this particular day. The selected passage was from Isaiah. They handled Him the scroll, He unrolled it to the passage He wanted, and He began to read. What He was reading was His mission statement for the next three years. He was saying, "This is why I'm anointed by God. This is what I was sent to do." Everything else He did would be directed by the words of this passage. 

A mission statement is a declaration of goals and objectives. For a business, it tells why it exists and how it intends to accomplish that goal. Mission statements are important because they clarify purpose and help to keep us on track. 

Jesus, in announcing His mission statement, made it clear to everyone that He knew why He was here and how He intended to accomplish that purpose:

Preach the gospel, release the captives, recover sight for the blind, set free the oppressed, proclaim the favorable year of The Lord. 

Do you have a mission statement for your life? Do you know your God-given purpose and how He intended you to fulfill it? Spend some time today pondering your purpose in life and how well you are accomplishing it.  

Pray today that we will clearly see our purpose for existence. Pray that our loved ones will begin to ask the hard questions of "Why am I here?" and "What are my life goals?" Pray that they are more interested in divine purpose than in personal pleasure. 

Jesus and the Sabbath Routine (Luke 4:16)

And He came to Nazareth, where He had been brought up; and as was His custom, He entered the synagogue on the Sabbath, and stood up to read. (Luke 4:16 NASB)

Jesus went home to Nazareth and, just like He'd always done, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath. He wasn't a "Christmas and Easter only" kind of guy. He had established a routine and He did not vary. On the Sabbath, He was at God's house, the house of prayer.  He would participate in corporate prayer as well as reading and studying the Torah. It appears that Jesus was likely a regular Torah reader at the synagogue. That is amazing, isn't it? Jesus not only went to church, he had regular duties at church. 

It's hard to participate in corporate prayer and Bible study if we aren't there. We would do well to emulate Him by regular attendance and active participation in our local church. Although we won't likely be the "Torah reader", we can certainly teach a class, hand out bulletins, work in a food closet, or serve as a smiling greeter. 

Pray today that we will be active participants in the body of Christ. Pray, too, that our loved ones will feel a restlessness on worship days that propels them back to the body of Christ. 

Maggie tries to play ball and hold on

Maggie the Wonder Dog was pretty excited when I got home tonight.  Between multiple meetings and all the excitement with the cows, I'd had a busy weekend, and she'd had more time in the kitchen than she wanted.  She was ready to play.

After running in circles for a while, she grabbed her favorite ball and brought it to me.  I threw it and she ran as fast as she could to retrieve it.  Ball in her mouth, she hurried back to me, sat down at my feet, and put both paws over the ball.  I tried to get the ball to throw again, but she would not let it go. She finally got most of the ball in her mouth, ran to me as if she wanted to play, but still would not let the ball go.  It's not clear how she can have play time and hold on to the ball at the same time, but that is exactly what she expected.  It's not what happened, though.  I finally got tired of that hopeless game and wandered off.

We've gone back and forth all evening.  She wants to play.  She doesn't want to let the ball go.

I think she must be a lot like me.  I guess she's a lot like most of us, isn't it?  We want to be close with the Master, but we want to do it our way, and without letting go of anything.  It doesn't work too well for Maggie, and it doesn't work too well for us, either, does it?

I want to play with her and I will throw that ball as many times as she wants.  She can run to her heart's content.  It's never going to happen, though, until she lets go of the ball.

Why read? (Luke 4:15)

And He began teaching in their synagogues and was praised by all. (Luke 4:15 NASB)

The synagogue was the center of local Jewish life. It was the place of assembly for prayer and study. Ezra (Nehemiah 8) had instituted regular reading of the Torah and that pattern continues today. There was a schedule of reading so that the entire Torah would be read aloud every year (some groups use a three-year rotation now). Any adult male could be invited to read the Torah. As I understand it, this was more than reading. It was reading with style - a kind of melodic chant or singing, so some men would be more adept than others. I would expect that Jesus, being The Word, would have been particularly adept and frequently chosen as reader. 

After the Torah reading, someone would give what we call a sermon. They would teach from the passage that had been read. Because they were teaching from the words of Moses, they sat in the Moses seat (a seat of honor) as they spoke. 

Why all this Torah reading? Israel had been taken captive and into exile as discipline for their sin. When the Babylonian exiles returned to Jerusalem, they never wanted to go into exile again. They wanted to ensure their own obedience, and requested that Ezra, the scribe, read the Torah aloud to them. After the reading, the Levites explained it to them. 

That first day, the people were so moved by the Word of God that they wept at the reading of it. All the people wept. I can't even imagine it. Everyone in "church" was so moved that they wept. Wow!  These people, at least for that time, were so sick of the consequences for their sin that they never wanted to disobey again. 

Oh what a difference it would make if we truly understood the price we have paid for our sin! It would break our hearts and ensure our obedience. It would drive us to the Word of God. 

Pray today for a glimpse of the price our sin has cost us and for our loved ones to have a sobering understand of what their life choices will cost them in the end. Pray for a "wake-up call" that propels them to Jesus. 

The Race-Cows and the Big Adventure

Usually when the mayor calls, there is some sort of municipal issue to discuss.  Yesterday, however, she called with bad news.  "Leanna," she said. "You at home? 'Cause your cows are up here in the road."  It's unusual for my cows to get out.  My fences are good and the cows are all well-trained and content.  Yesterday, however, they had run through two fences to get out, then continued to run up the gravel driveway and out to the road.

I was already dressed for an evening meeting, in my cutest sparkly, beaded top.  It's my favorite.  With cows out, though, I didn't have time to change.  Cows on the road are an enormous risk for motorists and a huge liability for me, not to mention incredibly risky for the cows.  I headed to the barn for a bucket and feed, then went in search of the cows, still wearing my favorite sparkly top.  I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw the cows grazing in my neighbor's yard, and rattled the bucket, calling them as loudly as I could.  "Here girls, come on girls."  That's what I always say, and they ALWAYS come. Except yesterday.  They didn't come yesterday.  In fact, they didn't even look up.  They were munching away at the grass that must have seemed greener (being on the other side of the fence).

Not to be bested by a small herd of cows, I headed toward them, still rattling the feed in the bucket. Much to my surprise, they turned around and started running up the road that runs alongside my farm. Running is not quite the best description of what they were doing.  Sprinting at break-neck speed was more like it.  I tried to run, too, but my two fleshy legs could not keep up with them.

As I headed up the road, my neighbor offered to help.  Our plan was that he would drive us up the road, get in front of the speeding cows, turn crossways in the road, and I would jump out and lure them back to the farm with the bucket of feed.  They do that all the time in the movies.  Well they do the driving and turning crossways part.  I've never seen a movie where a middle-aged woman in a sparkly top with a big bucket of feed jumps out and herds cows up.  You don't want to, either.

That plan worked pretty well, once we got the cows to get in a single-file line.  That was no easy task itself, let me tell you!  Sam whipped around crossways in the road, I hopped out, and for a moment I caught their attention.  I thought they were headed to the bucket, but no, they weren't.  They whirled around again, this time headed back to the main road, running all out.  How could cows that are not just well-proportioned but still nursing babies run like that? I wondered.  Not to be outdone, I jumped back in the car, and we started following them again, hoping to do another whip-across.

They must have figured out our tactic, because they soon veered over to another neighbor's farm and ran up to his barn.  I was really grateful when they paused in front of the barn door. That little bovine rest-stop gave me time to jump out of the car and rattle the bucket again.  It did about as much good as a pair of maracas, because they realized the car that had blocked them was now stopped.  The road was clear, and they took full advantage, racing like a lion was chasing, right back up the road from which we had just come.  I was voice-texting like crazy, recruiting people to pray that these silly cows would stop and head home.

By this time I was doing more than glistening, my hairdo was a total loss, and my favorite sparkly top was decidedly less than fresh, but there was nothing to do but head back after them.  Of course, I had to jump back in the car as Sam was revving the motor to race up the road again.  By the time we did the whip-around once more, we were further up the side road than ever before.  At last, Sam successfully accomplished a decisive turn crossways in the road with such authority that the cows stopped.  The mama-moos looked like they were still having fun, but I was more than a little breathless with the adventure.  I just stood still, prayed, and begged them to come to me.  Glory hallelujah! They did! I let Miss Freckles stick her head in the bucket for a bite.  She nearly knocked it out of my hand, but I held on firm.  Betsy lumbered over for a bite, and I took a few steps forward.  A quick glance back revealed a line of cows, calmly following along behind me.  I wanted to collapse with relief, but we weren't home yet.

I walked a bit, then let a cow sneak a bite, then walked a little more. Gradually, we made our way back home and down the long gravel drive.  When I opened the gate, they all walked in and headed toward the barn.  I followed along and filled the feed trough, then locked them in the pecan grove. They all ate a few bites, but left most of the food in the trough.  They had not gotten out because they were hungry, they just wanted an adventure, I guess.

Once the cows were safe, (and the motorists were safe from the cows), I quickly changed clothes and headed back to repair the fence.  Bill, who helps on my farm, arrived just in time, and before long we had completely repaired/replaced the fence, the cows were back in their usual pasture, and calm reigned again.

Oddly enough, I have no idea what precipitated those cows to run wild.  They weren't hungry.  They had a safe, green pasture.  I may never know why they ran.  One thing I did realize, all over again, was that running wild after them didn't help.  It was only when I was still, centered, and holding something more attractive than the road on which they were running, that they finally turned and headed back to me. Wow, there's a lot of truth in that, isn't there?

One really good thing came of the adventure.  The fences they tore down were the last pieces of fencing that had not been replaced.  That stretch of fencing had bothered me for quite some time. Thanks to the race-cows, I now have excellent fencing in the worst stretch, and it happened so fast I could hardly believe it.  The blessing of the race-cows!  Unbelievable!

Prayers in the House (Luke 4:15)

Part 2
And He began teaching in their synagogues and was praised by all. (Luke 4:15 NASB)

...do not touch any man on whom is the mark; and you shall start from My sanctuary." So they started with the elders who were before the temple. (Ezekiel 9:6 NASB)

Centuries before the arrival of Messiah, Ezekiel had a vision of the destruction of Jerusalem. In it, he saw a man dressed in linen (priestly garments) with a writing case (Lamb's Book of Life) at his side. (Ezekiel 9:1-6) The man in linen (Jesus, our Great High Priest) was instructed to go through the city (Jerusalem) and put a mark on every one of those "who sigh and groan over all the abominations being committed in its midst". The mark would protect them from destruction. He was to start at the temple, where the people who say they belong to God, have assembled. Judgement was coming, the vision said, and it would begin at the House of God.

The man in linen clearly marked all those who were His... He missed no one, because He had the writing case and could be assured of who was to receive His mark.  He began at the temple, where, we might presume, a preponderance of God's people would be gathered. Surely God's House of Prayer would be filled with people who sigh and groan over sin. Here is the sobering reality. It was not.

The temple, God's House of Prayer, was not full of people mourning both individual and corporate sin. It was filled with people, but they were doing something else, and the price for that "something else" was destruction.

Selah.
Pause and consider.

What would we be found doing in the House of Prayer? Would our prayers of repentance be remarkable if the Man in Linen appeared?

Jesus started His ministry in the synagogues, where God's people were, because that is where He always starts. (Ezekiel 9, Revelation 7). He was looking for hearts that cared about sin and righteousness, and He still is.

Today, as we pray, let us spend time in prayer, confessing not only our own sin and that of our loved ones, but also that of our nation. Make sure that the heart God finds in us is a heart of humble and repentant prayer.