One thing that’s handy is these little battery powered votive tea lights. Have you used them? I have a variety of decorative candle holders around the house at Christmas, which require candles to be placed in them. These battery powered tea lights are safe and convenient and give the appearance of a flickering candle.
There are a couple of things about this artificial light, however, that are not like the real thing. For one thing, it’s not that bright, and for another, it doesn’t “dance” like a real flame does. Even though it gives the appearance of movement, it’s cycling through the same “flicker.” Real flames get bright for a bit and then wane and get bright again, but this imitation light is just that – a copy.
I started thinking about how counterfeit things are like that. They have an appearance of the real thing, but in essence are very different. The things the world has to offer are so often just that – counterfeit to the real peace and contentment we can have and know. Happiness is a counterfeit for joy, pleasure a counterfeit for peace. Activity can be a counterfeit for true purpose, and recreation a counterfeit for contentment.
Like the artificial light, these things are not wrong in themselves, but pale in comparison to the things of the Spirit, which bring true life and peace. The “real” light will illuminate our purpose and move our hearts toward Himself.
Romans 8:6 “The mind set on the flesh is death, but the mind set on the Spirit is life and peace.”
Suffering. The older we get, the more we have known it in our own lives, or have seen others experience it. Lately I have noticed in Scripture that joy and suffering are often mentioned together. I began to ponder why. 1st Thessalonians, chapter 1 has a lot to say about this. The Bible tells us that the Thessalonians, patterning themselves after Paul and the Lord Jesus, received the Word with BOTH affliction AND the joy of the Holy Spirit.
Suffering is a part of the Christian life, indeed of every life. In fact, the Apostle Peter says, “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed” (1st Peter 1:12-13).
In Romans 8:17 & 18, we are told we are “…heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. For I consider that the sufferings of the present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”
A common argument I often hear against the existence of God is the reality of suffering in the world – people can’t fathom that a loving God would allow people to experience pain.
However, two seemingly opposing things can be true at the same time. I believe we have to be comfortable with BOTH/AND:
God is good AND we suffer.
God is merciful AND we hurt.
God is faithful AND we have trouble in this life.
God is just AND we experience injustice.
Philippians 3:10 says, “I want to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his suffering.” To share in his power, we must also share in his suffering.
You take up your cross.
You lose your life to find it.
You die in order to live.
You patiently endure suffering, knowing that it does not compare with the glory to come.
Joy comes from the Holy Spirit, who works now in the lives of believers. A joy that cannot be quenched and is not dependent on circumstances. Part of the joy comes in knowing that He promises a new heaven and a new earth, where we will be in perfect communion with Him once more.
“Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold I am making all things new” (Revelation 21:3-5).
There is almost no condition with the body that movement will not improve. We were made to move, and being immobile has negative effects of various kinds on the body. It seems now with most surgeries, the medical staff wants you up and moving as soon as possible. With the exception of keeping a bone immobilized so healing can take place, movement is the key to function. Range of motion is necessary, once the bone is healed, to enable the joint to move to its fullest capacity.
There have been studies done of young, healthy people where they performed some type of obstacle course and were timed. Then they were made to remain in bed for a week, getting up only to go to the bathroom. The obstacle course was repeated, and after only one week, the scores on the obstacle course times went down fairly significantly. In just one week, a decline had started.
In so many areas in life, movement forward is key. Taking that next right step, doing the next right thing, no matter how small, is movement in the right direction. In occupational therapy, we spend time on activity analysis and breaking down an activity into smaller, achievable steps. I remember having to, along with my team of fellow students, design and conduct a study as part of the requirements of my graduate degree. This seemed absolutely overwhelming at the outset, but the further we got into it, the more we could see it was possible. One of my professors said, “Remember, you eat an elephant one bite at a time!” That was the first time I had ever heard that phrase, but have used it often since!
One of the wisest voices I love to learn from is Elisabeth Elliot. For those unfamiliar with her, or the story, Elisabeth and her husband Jim, were missionaries to Ecuador in the 1950s, where they were involved in an effort to reach a violent tribe with the gospel. Jim, along with 4 other missionaries, was killed by those in the tribe. Unbelievably, Elisabeth remained in Ecuador, eventually working with the very people who had killed her husband. She often used the phrase, “Do the next thing.”
The following is from a transcript of a radio show with Elisabeth explaining where that phrase came from:
“When I went back to my jungle station after the death of my first husband, Jim Elliot, I was faced with many confusions and uncertainties. I had a good many new roles, besides that of being a single parent and a widow. I was alone on a jungle station that Jim and I had manned together. I had to learn to do all kinds of things, which I was not trained or prepared in any way to do. It was a great help to me simply to do the next thing.
Have you had the experience of feeling as if you’ve got far too many burdens to bear, far too many people to take care of, far too many things on your list to do? You just can’t possibly do it, and you get in a panic and you just want to sit down and collapse in a pile and feel sorry for yourself.
Well, I’ve felt that way a good many times in my life, and I go back over and over again to an old Saxon legend, which I’m told is carved in an old English parsonage somewhere by the sea. I don’t know where this is. But this is a poem which was written about that legend.
The legend is “Do the next thing.” And it’s spelled in what I suppose is Saxon spelling. “D-O-E” for “do,” “the,” and then next, “N-E-X-T.” “Thing”-“T-H-Y-N-G-E.”
The poem says, “Do it immediately, do it with prayer, do it reliantly, casting all care. Do it with reverence, tracing His hand who placed it before thee with earnest command. Stayed on omnipotence, safe ‘neath His wing, leave all resultings, do the next thing.” That is a wonderfully saving truth. Just do the next thing.
So I went back to my station, took my ten-month-old baby, tried to take each duty quietly as the will of God for the moment.”
Maybe you find yourself in your own set of circumstances where doing nothing seems preferable to the challenge ahead of you. Perhaps you are mired in depression and find it hard to even do simple daily tasks. Pick one thing that you will accomplish – for example, unload the dishwasher, take a shower, wash one load of clothes. Take one step, even if it’s a small one. Maybe you want to change directions in your career. Take one step – explore other options, talk to some people who have followed a similar path, or look at furthering your education. Maybe you want to do more for others but don’t know where to start– do one kind thing for someone today, even something as simple as paying someone a sincere compliment. Maybe there is a dream in you yet unrealized. Take that first step toward making the dream a reality.
God wants us to move forward. He is a creator, who works in the lives of his created ones, and promises that He makes all things new. He gives beauty for ashes and trades a garment of praise for that heavy load you are carrying.
“Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” Isaiah 43:18-19
Move forward. Do the next thing. You’re headed in the right direction.
“Russell, you need to go to the box,” the teacher said to a six-year-old little boy with an undiagnosed learning disability. “The Box” was a large container a refrigerator had come in, complete with a door cut in it, and a desk, reserved for those who needed a “time out” for various reasons, those who were creating a distraction in the classroom. Russell was a regular occupant of “The Box,” already learning to use distraction and disruption to avoid the thing he knew he could not do – read. It first became clear that Russell Harbin was having difficulty after kindergarten, so in the first grade he was pulled out of the regular classroom for resource help, which turned out to be no help at all. Dyslexia kept the wonder of words from ever coming alive for Russell during those years.
He was promoted on through the primary grades and into middle school and high school, never being able to read, a fact he kept hidden from almost everyone through the same strategy of creating mayhem, and being “class clown,” but with an anger simmering underneath. This anger led to an offense that caused him to be expelled from school in the 9th grade, his 3rd year in the 9th grade. “You’re a hopeless case; you’ll never amount to anything,” were phrases Russell heard all too often through the years.
But around the same time as the expulsion, Russell had an encounter that would change the trajectory of his life forever. It was November 23, 1985, and a prominent pastor in the area, Dr. James Merritt, came and shared the truth of the gospel with a 16-year-old Russell, who knew he wanted what the pastor talked about. After experiencing the transformational power of Christ personally, Russell immediately began to share with friends what he had experienced. He went back and apologized to all the teachers and others he had offended over the years, sharing the new life he had in Christ.
When he was 17, Russell went to his first summer camp, where Rick Stanley, stepbrother of Elvis Presley and then evangelist, was one of the speakers. It was during this week that Russell felt a call on his life to preach the gospel that had radically transformed him and was soon asked to go on the road with Rick Stanley. It was Rick who would finally teach Russell to read, working with him one-on-one for hours, generously pouring into his young mentee. As they traveled over the years, the Holy Spirit became Russell’s teacher, and seeing lives changed through Rick’s messages only fanned the flame stirring in his heart.
Russell would soon cross paths with Starla Crosby, a beautiful young singer and pastor’s daughter, already traveling herself and making waves in the gospel music world. The two were drawn to each other and their mutual love for God, and married in 1993. They served for a time in the local church but felt a call to evangelism, which led to living life out of a suitcase, even after a child, Crosby, had made them a family of 3. Crosby was 4 years old when the family joined Russell’s parents at Panama City Beach, Florida, a family tradition for as long as Russell could remember. They were to be there for a few days before heading to Tifton, Georgia, where Russell and Starla were to lead in Revival services the following week. It was August 15, 1998, a beautiful, picturesque day which began like any other. Nothing about the calm, “blue-flag” day would indicate what was about to happen.
Russell admittedly was never a fan of the water, but at Starla’s insistence, came down to the beach that morning to play with Crosby. Starla was then pregnant with their second child, who they already knew was a girl. The plan was to enjoy the beach for a couple of hours, and then travel the two and a half hours to Tifton, Georgia. Crosby was happily playing in the sand and Russell and his father had gone about 25 yards from the shore, on a sand bank. Knowing they needed to get on the road, Russell told his dad it was time to go inside and get ready. Russell determined the quickest way to get to shore was to ride a wave in, rather than trudge through the water.
So, when the next big wave came up, he jumped on it. He does not remember the actual impact, but instead of carrying him toward the shore, the wave pounded him into the sand. In that moment, his first cervical vertebra was shattered, a break that is almost always fatal. But somehow, miraculously, Russell was not immediately paralyzed. The break did not transect his spinal cord, as typically happens with these types of injuries.
Russell remembers the intense searing pain, the worst pain he has ever felt. He immediately grabbed his head, because he had the sensation it was going to come off his body. He was able to walk to the shore, and then lie down, all the while stabilizing his head with his own hands. Russell had a background in training horses and was well acquainted with spinal cord injuries. He knew he had broken his neck and kept waiting for the sensation of losing feeling in his extremities. As he was lying there, the one thing Russell asked God for, was to be able to hold his baby girl, yet to be born. He did not know if they would have to lay her in his arms, or what it was going to look like, but that was his one prayer. A flurry of activity immediately ensued once the gravity of the situation became clear. On the beach, paramedics further stabilized Russell’s head with cervical blocks, and even duct taped his head to the stretcher, ever aware of the danger of moving his neck even a fraction of an inch. On the way to Gulf Coast Medical Center, one of the paramedics speculated that the injury was likely “just a sprain,” because normally they “pull people out of the water dead” with a break. He assured Russell he would be home by nightfall. At Gulf Coast Medical, it was determined that there was no technician to operate the MRI machine, so Russell had to be loaded back into an ambulance for transport to Bay Medical, again running the risk of a bump, a jar, or any movement that might change Russell’s life forever. When Russell was finally able to get imaging done, the doctor delivered the news: “Mr. Harbin, you have broken your neck in 5 places. You have shattered C1, and you will not be going anywhere.” Russell was immediately moved to ICU, doctors fearing that the swelling which was sure to come would necessitate him being intubated. There’s an old phrase, “C3, 4 and 5 keep the diaphragm alive.” Any injury above this point typically results in a person being on a ventilator for life, if they survive. Certainly C1, known as the Atlas, holds “the world” in place.
The doctor at Bay Medical knew immediately that this injury was beyond his level of expertise as a surgeon. Typically, doctors do not repair these injuries when someone is not already paralyzed, so it is a very small “club” with this type of experience. In fact, the doctor said he knew of 2 surgeons who could perform such a surgery with a good chance of success, one of them being Dr. Regis Haid, who just so happened to be at Emory Hospital, close to the Harbin’s home in Georgia. Once Russell was deemed stable enough to travel, plans were made to go to Emory. Amazingly, insurance would not cover a flight to get to Emory, so Russell, stabilized as well as he could be under the circumstances, was taken on a commercial flight, where he recalls people throwing suitcases overhead, and bumping into his seat. Again, the danger of the slightest movement, with the possibility of shifting bone, and transection of the spinal cord, was a constant worry. Once on the ground in Atlanta, a family member picked Russell and Starla up and took them to Emory, since insurance would not pay for an ambulance for transport.
Russell was met immediately at the door by a team of doctors who were ready to receive him. World renowned spine surgeon, Dr. Haid, greeted Russell with a question, “Mr. Harbin, I’ve seen the X-Rays; I’ve seen the MRI. How did you get out of the water?” “I walked out,” said Russell. Dr. Haid was in disbelief, apparently never having seen anything like this particular situation. After a successful operation to repair the crushed vertebra, he told Russell, “You are the first person I have operated on with an injury like this who was not paralyzed.” Later, in a television special an Atlanta station had done about Russell’s experience, Dr. Haid would marvel at the fact that in all the movement from the moment of impact to getting Russell to Emory, a shift had not occurred that would have led to a much different outcome. “There must have been a mighty force with him,” the doctor said.
The road to recovery was not easy, but each day, Russell made strides back toward “normal,” having never experienced the paralysis that seemed so inevitable. When the time came for Starla to deliver their daughter, Russell was there by her side. In the moment the Doctor was handing her to Starla, she said, “Hand her to him first,” sharing that moment that is usually reserved for mothers and their babies, as part of the answer to a prayer prayed on a beach months before. Russell describes holding her, not believing that it was true, that he was on his feet, and could feel the weight of her in his arms.
They named their daughter Karis, which in the Greek means grace, because grace is what they experienced in extra measure throughout the whole situation. God can use people mightily in wheelchairs and out of wheelchairs, but it is clear that he wanted to use Russell’s story as a part of a testimony of a life lived with “no plan B, no other option but to trust Him,” as Russell says. He says he has never “gotten over the feeling of gratefulness,” although he sometimes has survivors’ guilt when he sees others who have had similar injuries and are paralyzed.
Whenever he has a chance to share his story, Russell reminds audiences that, “God doesn’t need our hands or our feet – only our hearts.”
In 2019, Russ and Starla Harbin founded Northstar Family Church, located in Flowery Branch, GA.
I believe God often teaches us lessons through the things that happen in our everyday lives if we have our eyes and ears open. One such instance happened to me the other day, and it involved an umbrella, a security system, and a dog. We were about to leave the house and it had just begun to rain. We have this precious little dog, who we try to protect from even the rain, so we always use a large umbrella to attempt cover both human and canine, while canine does her business on the lawn. I had taken her out, and placed the umbrella, as I always do, on the front porch, leaning against the place where brick meets shutter, so it can dry and is ready for the next outing.
We left the porch light on when leaving the house, knowing it would be dark when we returned. Turning into the driveway I noticed the umbrella was gone. We immediately began to speculate about what had happened. “Could it have blown away?” Mark said.
“We always leave it in that same spot, and it’s never blown away before,” I reasoned. After some discussion, we concluded that someone must have stolen it. It was disturbing not because of the loss of the umbrella, but because of the knowledge that someone could be casing the house and had probably looked in our sidelights to see the interior as they swiped the umbrella.
Adding to the uneasiness this created for us, was the fact that one of the door sensors on our SimpliSafe security system was not working, and we were not sure that the whole system was even operational at that point. We had not had time to make the call and try to troubleshoot the problem yet. So, we were somewhat unsettled during the night, knowing that we were perhaps being watched and that our security system might not alarm if an intruder were to break in. As you can imagine, this was not the best night’s sleep for either of us.
The night passed without incident, however, and the next morning, I went out with Lucy again, and what did I find, but that umbrella in the flower bed – it had in fact blown there the previous night, but we couldn’t see it in the dark. We had spent the whole night operating under the wrong assumptions. We didn’t have the truth. Not having the truth led to fear and anxiety, to speculating about scenarios that would never come to pass.
You probably see where I am going with this. Operating without The Truth always leads us in the wrong direction. Fear comes when we don’t operate in the knowledge of the Truth of God’s omnipresent and sovereign Hand at work in our lives. Fear comes when we don’t trust. Elisabeth Elliot once wrote, “Fear arises when we imagine everything depends on us.”
His word is Truth. Jesus said, “I am the way, the Truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father but through me.” Jesus is full of both grace and Truth, the Truth that illuminates every situation.
His Truth is transformational, and his Word is life.
Surely, I am not the only one who is tired of the “charcuterie” phase in which we find ourselves. If you do not know how to pronounce this word, consider yourself blessed and of good fortune. I have several issues with the charcuterie board.
First, the things which are typically placed upon it rarely constitute a real meal – cheese cubes, small rounds of meat, and olives are not a meal, at least not in the South. This is an appetizer.
Secondly, hands touching food that will be consumed by others is a real possibility.
Third, food items falling off the board is also probable. How is this practical? Whatever happened to serving bowls and trays?
The other day, I saw a picture of a “chili” charcuterie board, where all manner of toppings for chili were on display, including corn. What are people supposed to do- scoop up the corn with their bare hands? I assure you, my friends, if you come to my house, I will always serve you corn in a proper bowl with a serving spoon.
To sum it up, to me, the charcuterie board is attractive, but mostly for show and without much substance.
Hmm – mostly for show and without much substance. I have to wonder, as I think about our culture, and our attitudes in the modern Church, could the same be said for us? Ouch. Do we take the teachings and admonitions of Jesus seriously, or do we gather for our “feel-good” appetizer, and never move on to the main course? Have we settled, as Bonhoffer said, for “cheap grace,” that never requires more of us than a trip down the aisle? Do we merely nibble at the truth, but ignore the “whole counsel of God” (Acts 20:27)?
Do we hold to a form of godliness, but deny its power? Are we always learning but never able to come to the knowledge of the truth? (2nd Timothy 3). Is there a way that seems right, loving, even trendy, but its end is really death? (Proverbs 14:12).
Has self-care replaced discipleship, and personal happiness replaced joy in service to others?
“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me” (Matthew 25:35-36).
“Truly I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40).
Don’t settle for an appetizer, for only part of the truth. Dig in; come ready with your serving bowl and your big spoon. Listen for all he has to say to you and then be willing to speak and to serve it to others. Because the world sure needs the only real food that satisfies.
Where does our desire for justice come from? We see a story on the news about some atrocity and we immediately want to see justice done, we want fairness to be meted out for the perpetrators. Why is that? Even when it doesn’t affect us personally, we have a similar reaction as when an injustice happens to us in our own lives.
I believe it boils down to this:
Our desire for justice is rooted in our awareness of the sacredness of every person.
We recognize the “made in the image of God” quality of each and every person. We inherently see the sanctity of every life, and the right of that life not to be violated. The Ten Commandments are a reflection of that awareness. A person has a right to his life, to his property, to his reputation.
But what about mercy? After all, Jesus says, “Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt. 5:44). Even as he was dying on the cross, he asked God to forgive the people who put him there. How do we reconcile such mercy with the justice we so often seek?
Justice and mercy met in the person of Jesus, who was full of grace AND truth. We need to see both. If we focus solely on truth, and ignore grace, we can become legalistic, believing we can work our way up to God by the things that we do, and setting up impossible expectations for people. If we go “all grace and no truth,” then we ignore the standards that God has set up to reflect the sacredness of human life.
We see the perfect display of the meeting of justice and mercy when Jesus encounters a woman caught in adultery (Matthew 8:1-11). The Pharisees were standing there, holding their stones, ready to let them fly, after asking Jesus what they should do with the woman, stating that the Law required her to be stoned.
Then those convicting and jaw dropping words came, “Let he who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her,” Jesus said. When one by one they dropped their stones and went away, he looked at the woman and said, “Where are your accusers – has no one condemned you?”
She said, “No one, Lord.”
“Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”
The woman met the mercy of Jesus that day, while at the same time being warned about her sin. Her actions were not excused, but forgiven.
Grace and truth. Mercy and justice. It’s not either/or, but both/and.
“And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8).
Have you ever said that? I have an idea all of us have. At one time or another, we encountered someone who appeared to overstep her bounds, someone with an air of superiority. Maybe they “got above their raisin’,” as my mother would have said.
In any case, it’s a good question to ask – who does she think she is – and just as important, who do you think you are? Do you know who you are, who God created you to be?
You see, when we live and walk in the knowledge of who God says we are, we don’t have to try and elevate ourselves. We understand we are redeemed by God’s grace, created in His image. Knowing who we are in Christ, (…the righteousness of God – 2 Corinthians 5:21), gives us the quiet confidence to walk in His way with humility.
We are “…God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works…” (Ephesians 2:10). His handiwork, his masterpiece, fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14).
God is a multiplier. We see this even in the natural order, as he created living things to reproduce themselves. Some of Jesus’s miracles involved multiplying things – bread and fish, for example. When Jesus took the 5 loaves and 2 fish and blessed and multiplied them, it was enough to feed over 5,000 hungry people. There were even 12 basketfuls left over. Jesus calls himself “the Bread from Heaven” four times in the New Testament. This miracle was no doubt a foreshadowing of his body, the Bread, that would be given for EVERYONE.
I have been pondering the first miracle recorded in the book of John, at the wedding at Cana, and the details surrounding it. There is so much richness about the story. The wine had run out, an embarrassment for the hosts. Jesus’s mother asked him to do something about it. Even though he had done no public miracles to that point, she knew who he was, and that he could remedy the situation if he chose to. She told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”
Jesus asked for ceremonial pots to be filled with water, up to the brim. There were 6 pots, each one holding 20-30 gallons of water, normally used to cleanse dirty hands and feet. It was the water in those pots that became wine at his will. One thing that strikes me is the sheer quantity – 30 gallons times 6 is 180 gallons of wine. Although we are not told how many people were in attendance at the wedding, 180 gallons would surely be more than enough for everyone. The wine was given in abundance, and no doubt represented the blood he would later shed, the blood that would be for EVERYONE. Taking our dirt and filth and giving us something that brings joy, the foreshadowing of the blood that would cleanse our sin and give us righteousness in return.
What He gives is always more than enough. He offers us his body and blood. He trades us life for death, praise for heaviness, and abundance for poverty.
He sees you He sees you in the day to day The mundane tasks, the ho-hum He sees you as you wipe that little nose for the hundredth time And change the smelly diaper He sees you as you clean up After a dinner you have fixed for hungry mouths He sees you rise up for another day and give Him thanks He sees you worship He sees you give of yourself He sees you because He is intimately acquainted with you He sees because He loves you He sees you
Life By The Way 