Remember the days, as a kid, when your parent told you to “clean your room” before you could enjoy whatever else you had your heart set to do? That directive has been floating around in my head for a day or so. “Clean your room.”

Which room is most important? “Create in me a clean heart, O God!” [Psalm 51:10]

The most recent cleaning task at our house was cleaning the inside and outside of our windows. We had not cleaned them since we moved into our home six years ago. Having a two-story house, we had quite a few to tackle. Yet, amazingly, with each window, our view became much clearer. What a good feeling!

More seriously, I’m focusing of the ‘windows’ of the heart. Unless my heart’s view is biblically pure, I’m subject to much “stinking thinking.” Consequently the home of my heart becomes a place of complaint, unbelief, pride, unkind perspective of others, and more. Oh, how my windows need purified cleansing!

“Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean…” [Psalm 51:7] Hyssop was one of the extreme cleansing agents used often in contact with leprosy or dead bodies. It symbolized the washing with the blood of Jesus. David declared that he must be cleansed both inside and out to be renewed with a right spirit.

As we washed our windows, we would notice that one side of the window would appear just a bit dusty. While cleaning the other side of our windows, we’d learn that we had to wash more than twice to remove accumulated grime. We found two holes in a screen. How easily we had been misled that our viewpoint had been previously clear and that perspective had been well screened.

Regular cleansing needed.

“Above all else, guard your heart; for out of it flow the issues of life…” [Proverbs 4:23]

I opened the drawer…you know, one of those drawers that collect old papers, pencils, warranties on products already replaced, unopened mail that you’ll read on the tomorrow that never comes…and there it was: a package of bagels. Puzzled by the strangeness of my discovery in this particular drawer, I asked my hubby when they were purchased. “I don’t know,” he replied, “the last time I bought this kind of bread for us was three weeks ago.”

“Three WEEKS ago??!!” I exclaimed! I examined the bagels closely and realized they not only were the forgotten item in the drawer…they appeared fresh and ready to serve. Yikes! That’s scary. Full of preservatives, additives, artificial coloring, and a whole bunch of unidentifiables inside…and they still had shelf-life. Really?

“Lead me to the fresh stuff!”

Man’s wise invention  of shelf-life does serve a bit of a purpose. In our day and time, many grocery items are accessible because they’ve been preserved for travel from farm to factory to truck to market to home. Our spoiled selves would suffer if that were not so. But THREE WEEKS????!! [or more]

There’s a closing time on all things. None of us knows when our time is up. The recipe for divine, life-giving preservative has been written into us by our Maker. When our purpose is fulfilled, we move to His designated [hopefully-heavenly-for-my-reader] address.

I’m not meaning to be morbid by drawing attention to the ending time of our lives. I’m thinking about serving our purpose while assigned the specific years by our Lord. The last thing I want my Lord to do is to open some random drawer and find me tucked among the unidentifiables with a man-processed shelf-life that enables me to simply have the appearance of a believer in Christ…but little service to Him or others.

Fresh stuff is that which fulfills a purpose, brings life, operates on a divine-timetable, and yields to when He says the time is up.

“But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.” [2 Corinthians 4:7]

Jesus promised us that, if we drank from Him, we would never thirst again. He is our Source of supply to our  well of salvation. In John 7:38 He declared that “out of our bellies would flow riverS of living water.”

What He offered was at no cost to us, yet was paid dearly by Him. That Source of water is continually satisfying to the soul. It flows downward from Him to the mouth of the river ~ that is, the mouth that is thirsty. Water then collects and is intended to thereby flow.

Tracing the effects of water, we see mature rivers have many tributaries flowing outward “into all the world,” and bringing refreshment and supply to drought-affected areas. Even youthful, trickling streams can bring life to their surroundings.

Water does not always take the shortest route; yet there will result a collection of much-needed moisture. It can also meet with freezing conditions…with a promised time of thawing.

Rivers flowing out of the spiritually hydrated believer are expressed by worship and praise. If the rivers could speak words, they would rejoice in God’s wondrous love. No doubt its life-giving supply speaks its own language. Rivers can overflow their banks, thereby having their waters testify of God’s bounty.

Rivers flowing out of the filled believer converge with those in need of God’s grace. Rivers from within are transporters of His gifts of the Spirit. Rivers of prayer and intercession release power much like that which is released by a hydroelectric plant that supplies power to a city. We are “endued with power from on high.” [Luke 24:49]

As we “come to Him,” as He admonished, out from our inner being will flow dynamic, vibrant resources. He first desires to flood all compartments of our souls. As He flows into us, and then outward, we pour into a dry and thirsty world.

Off to school ~ back to school ~ our nine grandchildren are in differing phases of life. Whether in college, high school, middle school, or elementary…they are growing up way too fast for me. Still waiting for grace to adjust to the empty nest of our four children [one graduating Heavenward and leaving an enormous vacuum], I’m now observing our grandchildren spread their wings and fly into their destinies.

Next to waiting, letting go is by far the hardest thing the Lord ever asked us to do. 

I hold tight to the moments spent with each one of our family members. Some of their schedules only permit text messages these days. This mother and grandmother just can’t help herself; I’m finding this falls desperately short of satisfaction. I miss hugs, voices, and facial expressions.

Our advancing technology has reduced communication to pings, emoties, and text codes. Arrrrgh! Yet, I find myself strangely thrilled to receive even one brief one. I guess I’m trying to settle for the less than.

From day one, we begin preparing our children to leave the nest. Anyone but me want to repent? [Just kidding–then maybe not.] Perhaps we’ve done the job too well. My mommy’s and MawMaw’s arms ache. I long to still be needed by my family…and essentially I am…just in different, sometime distance, ways now.

Someone recently said, “Hold that baby tight; next week they’ll be in college.” If that sounds exaggerated, just be a mom or a dad…or a grandparent…and you’ll understand.

Father gave His only Son. Though the plan of redemption was already divinely set, Perfect Love had to have experienced something akin to our loneliness when the incarnate Jesus was separated from Him at Calvary. Father, help me to understand how You endured that.

Jesus endured the Cross “for the joys set before Him.” Again…separation required much, much grace,  and vision.

So, Father, grace me to let go…to truly release…to understand the “how-to’s” in holding on in these new job descriptions. I reallllly want to squeeze tight and say, “Don’t leave.” You say, “You must let go.” That being true, please show me how.

Many times I have sat across the counseling desk from a disgruntled spouse, listening intently to their viewpoint, only to sit across from their partner in another session and hear a dramatically opposite viewpoint. Each partner could have passed a lie detector test as they presented what they had seen, heard and thus perceived to be true in their relationship.

In the dynamics of relationship, there lie things that are known as well as things that are unknown. Drawing conclusions without all the facts leads any relationship down a pathway to destruction.

If our viewing lens could see as God sees, how different would be our perspective. He’s the only one with all the facts. We, however, become enslaved by the limitations of our viewpoint because we can only see in part.

The power to change perception is by changing perspective ~ by choice. True perspective, I suggest, is the act of seeing through a cleansed lens; perception is the act of drawing a conclusion either through a cleansed or an uncleansed lens. The problem may be that we have pre-conceived thoughts. Or those formed by prejudice or pride? Or from misinformation? Whatever has clouded the view is going to determine the perception.

The late Al Neuharth, who created a national newspaper through satellite technology, said: “The difference between a mountain and a molehill is your perspective.” His goal in life was to “present accurate and fair information without opinion.”

If we choose to see good, we will find it. If we choose skepticism and distrust, we will find it. Our perceptions are formed by the lens through which we form our thoughts, what we call our ‘experience,’ and thus what we process to be true…according to our lens.

“But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!”  [Matthew 6:23]

Jesus’ spoke of truth perceived through a cleansed lens: “But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear!”[Matthew 13:16]

A call to rest is just that…and nothing less. Oh, how slow I am to catch on though. The days had led into weeks, and weeks were creeping up on a month, and I’d not had, nor taken, the ‘down time.’ It caught up with me; I could feel the internal engine slowing down.

My good friend and tech support knows me well. I get thoroughly disgusted with my computer when it begins to do crazy things.  In fact, she tells me that I test her tech skills extensively because I just don’t want to take time to cut the thing ‘off’ to re-boot the system. At best, I have the patience to hit ‘re-start’ ~ but don’t want to take time to shut it completely down. That slows my self-driven, goal-oriented pace!!!

So it is with my stretched-out schedule…which tires my soul and my body. The gentle voice of God says, “Shut it down! Don’t just re-start!” Am I convinced? Hardly. I hit my internal switch to ‘re-start’ time and time again until I begin to realize that even a beautiful sunset fails to get my attention. A phone call from a dear friend seems taxing. I realize I am beginning to hide from things that usually cause me great pleasure.

Worse than that, my  prayer life begins to wane. Now I’m in a deep mess!

“In repentance and rest you will be saved. In quietness and trust is your strength. But you.were.not.willing.”[emphasis added] Isaiah 30:15

Hubby takes one look  at me and says, “Shut it down…all the way down…until you re-calibrate…however long that takes.” I hear him. So, as he assumes some of our pastoral roles, I sit in the quiet. Doing nothing. Hardly even thinking except to think about not thinking.  So this is what it feels like to “BE”? Not DO?

To re-calibrate is to check, to adjust, or to compare to a standard [my Standard being Christ]. Simply put, it means to make corrections [obey]. I began to notice that the word ‘caliber’ is rooted in there. Caliber means quality of character [ouch] or level of ability [for sure].  I admit that both had diminished; hubby was beginning to agree. Back to BEING.

One-way love. This term calls to our memories the times we’ve invested ourselves in relationships, only to realize there’s little to no reciprocal response. The reasons for the one-way, no returns-on-investment are varied ~ yet still hurtful.

Relationships are risky. Souls open up to others in hopes that their hearts will not be trampled.  The risk is that we may come away having been hurt by those walking through our hearts wearing what feels like hob-nailed boots. It happens. Hearts get broken. Trusts are jeopardized. Damaging words spoken hang in the atmosphere, and they cleverly replay themselves until they settle deep within the heart.

Until we turn our eyes upon Jesus……

No one gave more love, and at such a great risk of that love remaining one-way, than Jesus. “While we were weak…God demonstrates His own love for us in that while we were yet sinners [in our worst moments in life, our most rebellious, despicable, demonized moments] Christ [remained steadfast in His one-way love and] died for us.” {emphasis added, Romans 5:6, 8}

Before we even knew about Him …when we knew about Him and had the freedom of choice to respond…He took the risk and loved us anyway. The nails brought Him immense, immeasurable pain. While hanging on that rugged cross, His mind was not only on those who would bring Him joy, but also on those who would hold steady the nails to be driven.

He gave the most amazing response: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” He humbly and sincerely forgave them. He released them from judgment. In doing so, He freed Himself. Risky, one-way love became His cross to bear and it triumphantly resulted in blood-bought redemption.

The call to love is a call to be light-bearers. While darkness lurks in the shadows of cold, non-responsive hearts, light has the greater power. Jesus demonstrated this all the way to His last breath. Thieves hung upon crosses on either side of Him. One would see that Light, receive Him, and be with Him that very day in Paradise.  The other would reject the light of His love.

The nails, however, could not hold Him back.  One-way love prevailed.

“You split the sea so I could walk right through it. My fears were drowned in perfect love. You rescued me so I could stand and sing ‘I am a child of God.'”[“No Longer Slaves,” by Jonathan David Helser]

Though none of us living at this time in history were among those who stood beside Moses with Pharaoh’s army at our backs and the Red Sea in front of us. However, most all of us can relate to that threatening place of needing the massive waters to part. Our testimonies are many and they are varied, but none compare to the power released when we were delivered from the world [Egypt] through salvation and when we watched the waters part as we rose from the waters of baptism ~ our very own “Red Sea” experience.

The song continues: “I’m no longer a slave to fear; I am a child of God.” This could only be true if we believe by faith that our fears were drowned in those waters. As He ‘split the sea,’ did we really, by faith, ‘walk right through it’? Was the foundation under our feet secured and did He in fact hold back the waters as we walked to the other side…the side of deliverance and freedom?

Has it been settled in our souls that we were in fact rescued? That’s the only way we can “stand and sing, I am a child of God.” The waters parted, but do we believe they fell to our enemy’s demise as we stood in Christ Jesus on the other side. If so, we may then live victoriously as one who has truly been rescued.

The Israelites sang this song, post-sea experience: “I will sing to the Lord for He is highly exalted. The horse and its rider He has hurled into the sea. The Lord is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation.” [Exodus 15:1-2]

Traffic was thick. We were passing through Raleigh, on our way to the beach for the weekend with two of our friends in the car with us. Sitting at the stop light, preparing to exit the ramp to the interstate, we were about 2-3 feet behind the car in front of us. Lanes of traffic were very busy at this time of day.

The four of us noticed an old-model station wagon approaching in the far left lane, apparently way out of control, speeding well beyond safety. We remarked that something had to be wrong with the driver. No sooner had we spoken those words than the car spun around in its lane twice and projected across the road into our lane between our car and the one in front of us. Yes, between us ~ in no more than 2-3 feet of  space.

Impossible? Yes, in the natural.

David didn’t experience deliverance in traffic, but he had learned well how the Lord protected him in numerous ‘impossible’ situations. He shared his witness: “The angel of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him, and delivers them.” [Psalm 14:7]

If one angel could destroy 185,000 men in one night [2 Kings 19], it can spread space between two cars. Though the distressed driver’s speed was out of control, the speed of an angel was and is as fast as the speed of light. Angels can arrive on the scene in our time of difficulty the moment we say “Help!” Or when we may not have time to cry out.

Whether the angel was visible or not, the amazing protection was witnessed by the four of us. To this day [nearly 30 years later], I stand amazed and grateful!

“For He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways. In their hands they shall bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone [or vehicle, in our case].”[Psalm 91:11-12]

Jesus said that if I ask for bread He would not give me a stone. Sometimes this thing in my hand [or at least on my heart] sure feels like a stone, weighs like a stone…and may even somewhat resemble a stone. Spirit of God says, “Hold on: you will soon know it’s bread.”

How many times have I said to my natural and my spiritual children, “I’m smelling bread baking in Heaven for you” in this painful circumstance? And truly believing it! While at the same time, I’m waiting to smell bread baking in Heaven’s oven for myself.

“He brought them to the man to see what he  would name them; and  whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name.” [Genesis 2:19-20]

What a powerful act of dominion! Naming our circumstance according to God’s plan gives it the power He intended. I’m free to interpret this ‘thing’ as a curse; yet, given the power of life or death in my tongue, I can say otherwise. I will only embrace grace for that which I believe He’s given to me as a blessing.

Some say my name means:”strong woman of God.” There’s only One who can enable this mortal being to carry His strength. Until He awakens my spiritual  senses to smell bread baking in Heaven ~ the kind that effectively strengthens me ~ I’m confined to my own resources ~ which are grossly limited. The best I can bake are stones.

Once a baby girl, I felt insecure…yet I was made safe. Bread of Heaven fed me well through loving parents. Once a growing, only child, with heart longings for siblings, I was fed bread morsels by the bounty of life-time friends. Once a teen girl, compromised and confused, I was fed forgiveness and redemption. Again, right out of Heaven’s oven. Once an adult woman, perplexed and in search of one who would feed my hungry soul, Bread fed me truth. Once a mother, unsure, sometimes fearful…the Word became Bread. Now a grandmother, oftentimes too stinking sure of myself…Bread has tempered my soul. Never a stone: always bread, fresh out of Heaven’s oven. What sweet aroma! And supplies are unlimited.