Keep Knockin'

"Patience is a virtue."  How many times have we heard that?  It seem like whenever there's something on the horizon that we don't see yet, or an answer to our solutions that's just around the corner, a friend or family member draws alongside and tries to offer some encouragement with those four small words. It might involve a job promotion or paying back that student loan.  It might even have to do with bearing someone's unwanted character flaw.  Someone at church who is a talker.  A child who's lazy and won't clean up after themselves.

It's as if patience will get you through the situation.  In fact, if we look back in the book of Galatians, one of the fruit of the Spirit is patience.  "The fruit of the Spirit is love, peace, joy, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control.  Against such there is no law."  But if we consider the verse and what God wants to do in our hearts, it's more than just developing a virtue.  Anyone can meditate for thirty minutes or sit quietly while a son or daughter decides whether or not to tell the truth.  It all has to do with what you're doing while you're waiting.  God desires to draw near and be the one we rely on during that time of duress or difficulty.  And waiting on Him is the object lesson.

Jesus tells the parable of the unjust judge who is holding back on ruling on a widow's case.  And the widow comes night after night, knocking at his door, pleading for him to listen to her.  And finally the judge says to himself, "I'll just listen to her only to get her to stop pestering me!"  The parable is meant to demonstrate the importance of prayer and seeking God in our situations.  Unlike the unjust judge, God wants to hear from us.  He wants us to keep knocking.  Not to play a game of "Who can catch my attention," or "Let's see how long I can get her to keep coming back."  He wants us to rely on Him to move us through the difficulty or situation.

We had an incident when we had to wait on God to arrange carpool for our daughter.  Jessie faced a difficult situation where she had to stay with a girl at a house until Annie came and picked her up after work.  We thought it was a good arrangement as she was an acquaintance.  But after a while the girl began to pick on Jessie and copy off of her homework without permission. There were other issues, but Jessie began to buckle under pressure.  We went to the Lord for help, and we found a friend with whom Jessie could go home.  But Annie had to talk to the other mother about the incident.  And the mother was one of those "Extra Grace Required" women who could easily be rubbed the wrong way.  So we went to God in prayer.  Again and again.  And on the day Annie was going to talk to the mother, I found myself at work continually lifting her up in prayer. 

If this sounds like it's getting off course, it's not.  Patience isn't about developing a waiting nature against time.  It's about asking God to draw close to us while we wait on Him and His answer.  He pours out His grace on us during that period.  It's difficult sometimes.  Perhaps a friend has cancer and we're asking for comfort.  Or perhaps a child is having difficulty in school and we're praying for a better reporte with the teacher.  Whatever the situation, when we wait on God and seek His way, He gives us the grace and direction to move through the situation.  Then, whatever the answer, He is glorified and we find peace through the difficult time.

"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find;

knock, and it will be opened to you.

For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks receives,

and everyone who knocks it will be opened."

He Who Calms the Sea

"Those who go down to the sea in ships,

Who do business on great waters,

They see the works of the LORD,

And His wonders in the deep.

For He commands and raises the stormy wind,

Which lifts up the waves of the sea,

They out up to the heavens,

They go down again to the depths;

Their soul melts because of trouble.

They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man,

And are at their wits' end.

Then they cry out to the LORD in their trouble,

And He brings them out of their distress.

He calms the storm,

So that its waves are still.

Then they are glad because they are quiet;

So He guides them to their desired haven.

Oh, that men would give thanks to the LORD for His goodness,

And for His wonderful works to the children of men!

Let them exalt Him also in the assembly of the people, 

And praise Him in the company of the elders."

Psalm 107:23-32

On the same day, when evening had come, Jesus said to them, "Let us cross over to the other side."

Now when they had left the multitude, they took him along in the boat as he was.  And other little boats were also with him.  And a great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that it was already filling.  But he was in the stern, asleep on a pillow.  And they awoke him and said to him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?"

Then he arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace, be still!"  And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.  But he said to them, "Why are you so fearful?  How is it that you have no faith?"

And they feared exceedingly, and said to one another, "Wo can this be, that even the and and the sea obey him?"

Mark 4:35-41

Man of Sorrows

He passed away May 2016.

The man who had taught me to cast a line, and balance a checkbook, and trim the yard, and built a fire...he was gone.  It wasn't sudden.  It wasn't like Dad was there one moment then gone the next. The cancer had progressed slowly.  First in the pancreas, then to the liver.  We sat with him in the hospital during the transfusions.  He and Mom were so diligent with taking their constitutions.  But the steps became slower, and then he brought out the walking sticks.  A few more rests on the couch lying down.  Finally, a hospital bed was moved into the bedroom and the transfusions ceased.

After he passed, I would still smell the scent of his aftershave around me.  I walked to my parents' front door expecting Dad to greet me with a handshake. I would look up from dinner but the chair at the end of the table was bare.  I'd read a newspaper article and lower the paper to ask for his opinion just to find the sofa across from me empty.

The months dragged on.  I spent hours sifting through the memories.  How he stood by my side during the Boy Scout cake auctions, or guiding my hand as I sanded down our soapbox derby car, or even the stern warning he gave me after an altercation with my mother. I would stare at the ceiling at night, noticing that the darkness above reflected the emptiness inside of me. His words.  The scents. The telephone calls.  Memories would cloud my mind, but the void was still there.  I would be at work, and the overwhelming sadness welled up deep within my soul.  I would rise from my chair and take stroll around the office until my emotions would settle into a manageable state. When I thought I had passed through to a calming respite, his heavy breathing during his final moments would echo in my mind.

Two months before the next Christmas, my family and I sat together in church.  Pastor Jim and the worship team led the congregation in praise.  While others lifted their hands in praise and joyous exclamations, I sat in a daze.  Time had slowed. The drawn out minutes seemed like an endless sailing through dark waters. I didn’t know how to go forward.  I wasn't sure how to get through the days or the long nights.  I was just about to step out into the isle and walk back to the prayer team for help when a sudden impulse gave me pause.  I chose to pray first. I dropped to my knees and quietly called out to God.  “Lord, I don’t know what to do.  There's a numbness inside that I can’t seem to overcome. I want to celebrate and commemorate my Dad rather than suffer. It seems like I'm in a closed-up room and can't find a door.”

The singing seemed to dim, and I felt the Spirit move within me.  The Lord brought Isaiah 53 to my mind. It was the passage on the Suffering Servant.

"A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. 

And we hid, as it were, our faces from Him; 

He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. 

Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows..."

And Jesus spoke to me. "I know your sorrow. I know your grief, for I have suffered. I can carry what you bear.  I am the Man of Sorrows. Take my hand and let me lead you. You carry this heartache and loss. You were never meant to carry it apart from me. I know the way through this. Take my hand and I will carry your sorrows." In my mind I saw Him reach out His hand to me. I prayed, "Lord, I don't know how this will go, but I trust you. Lead me through this."  I took His hand.

   I knelt there for a while, spending time in His presence.  I didn't know how it would continue, carrying Dad's loss inside while walking the Savior.  But after a while I stood.  A couple of seconds passed, and then Pastor Jim began the next song. I smiled in thankfulness. The song was called "Man of Sorrows". God was confirming what He had just spoken to me.

As the years go on, I remain in awe over how God knows the right time and place for me.  That place has always been at His side, trusting in His justice, His mercy, His power.  In all the times I've called out to Him, Jesus remained faithful and true. In 1 Peter 2, the apostle calls us to walk in Jesus' steps, "who Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, having died to sins, might live for righteousness - by whose stripes you were healed. For you were like sheep going astray, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls." As the One who created us, loves us and shepherds us, God knows the best way to guide our souls.  If you're lost, call out to Him and you will be found. If you've sinned, cry out in humility for "He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." And if you carry grief, know that He is there to carry it with you.