Sufficient God

Thy hand, in sight of all my foes,

Doth still my table spread;

My cup with blessings overflows,

Thine oil anoints my head.

Isaac Watts

Sufficient:

: having or providing as much as is needed

The question, "how much more would it take to make you happy," and the answer, "Just a little more," have become cliche'.  Wisdom furrows our brows, and we nod in subdued condescension as we consider the discontented masses.  Ah, those discontented masses  - from within whose ranks, very few of us will admit to membership. Yes, are we not all, to some extent, discontent?  None of us would mind having just a little bit more - be it wealth, or skills, or power, or prestige - few would turn down a small boost or bonus if it was offered to us.

But God's sufficiency goes far beyond being content with our possessions or position.

Consider the following story pulled from NBC News' Today Parent page - titled:

This is the most effective way to discipline kids, according to science

"Getting small kids to behave can be a delicate science for parents. Some worry about being too harsh; others are left exasperated by children who seem out of control. Many try to avoid yelling or spanking, and even time-outs are seen as too strict in some parenting circles.
But parents shouldn't be afraid to punish: techniques like timeouts can be effective if done correctly, researchers at the American Psychological Association's annual convention in Toronto said on Thursday."

So far, not too bad - right?  Let's keep reading.

"[The] study looked at the most effective way to deal with misbehaving toddlers. Based on detailed interviews with 102 mothers, [Robert] Larzelere divided the kids into two categories, depending on their behavior, and found each type responded best to a specific approach.
Easy-to-manage kids:
These are toddlers who whine or try to negotiate with you when you ask them to do something they'd rather not do. But they're not very aggressive or disruptive.
Best way to immediately improve behavior: Offer compromises.

Hard-to-manage kids:
These toddlers are much more aggressive: They may act defiantly, ignore you or hit a sibling. "If a parent says one thing, like 'Time for bed,' they not only say no, they run in the other direction or they have a temper tantrum," Larzelere said.
Best way to immediately improve behavior: Offer compromises."  

With a toddler?!

We all justifiably begin to wonder if Robert Larzelere has actually ever raised kids, and from which progressive corner of Madison or Berkeley he extracted those 102 mothers for the interviews.

But don't get me wrong, I don't criticize the logic, because in a way, this makes complete sense.  In our progressive age, who's to say that your way is right, and the child's way is wrong?  If divine authority has been hijacked, then exactly where do we derive authority from? What gives a parent the right - to be right?  Why is the kid necessarily wrong? Compromise makes complete sense if we understand the basic premise of humanistic progressivism.

These ideas are merely an expansion of the progressive humanistic philosophical foundation, that rather than God being sufficient - Man is sufficient.  Each man or woman is self sufficient.  The ramifications of such a philosophy are broad - so broad, in fact, that even as Christians we have adopted wide swaths of the philosophy for ourselves.

Let's do a quick analysis.  Ask yourself - Is God enough for me?  Now ask yourself that question as I begin a rather personal and intrusive list...

Do I really need:

My day to go as planned?

That relationship?

My hobby?

My music?

My health?

That skill?

Do I really need the affirmation that I get from Facebook?

My children's success?

My success?

My social status?

My reputation?

My friends?

My children to be quiet?

Now, we need to note which items from the list made us cringe, and then take flight for a bird's eye view and a reminder of our smug selves criticizing those discontented masses. Remember your criticism of the discontent?  Look down there - do you see yourself among them?How many of us are an automobile accident away from discontent?  How many of us are a mere phone call away from doubting the all sufficiency of God?

We need to note which of those made us cringe, and not be so hard on the liberal progressive psychologists who infer from our behavior that there is no higher authority than our own desires. If we decide that what God has given us, is not enough, then we too have demanded a compromise from God.  We too have petulantly stormed in the face of our Heavenly father, and expected Him to capitulate.

Is God sufficient for you?  Pause and think.  Is God sufficient for me?

I want to quote for you some of the lyrics we sang a few weeks back in church.  I presented this theme that day, and we coupled these songs to the theme of God's sufficiency.

Ask yourself as you hum these familiar tunes - is God enough for me?

The love of God is broader

than the measure of man's mind;

and the heart of the Eternal

is most wonderfully kind.

If our love were but more faithful,

we should take him at his word;

and our life would be thanksgiving

for the goodness of the Lord.

Great is Thy Faithfulness,

Morning by morning new mercies I see;

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided,

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me!

Now, Lord, I would be Yours alone

And live so all might see

The strength to follow Your commands

Could never come from me

Oh Father, use my ransomed life

In any way You choose

And let my song forever be

My only boast is You

What love is this, that you gave your life for me

And made a way for me to know you

And I confess you're always enough for me you're all I need

Day by day, and with each passing moment,

Strength I find, to meet my trials here;

Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,

I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.

What God deems best to give each of us, each day - is enough.

He is Sufficient.

I've included links to a few of the songs below.

There's a Wideness In God's Mercy - Frederick Faber

Great is Thy Faithfulness - Thomas Chisholm

All I Have is Christ - Sovereign Grace

What Love is This - Kari Jobe

Day by Day - Karolina Sandall-Berg

Article noted above can be found here:

by: A. Pawlowski, Aug. 6, 2015 at 1:06 PM

http://www.today.com/parents/how-discipline-kids-new-research-shows-what-works-t37141

God, Our Source of Joy

I have a handful of unforgettable snapshots framed on the walls of my memory.  One was the view out the window of my truck as I was driving one night.  The high fog had been rolling across the Diablo Valley, compelling the full moon into a game of hide and seek.  As I drove, a steady glow proved that the moon had, at least temporarily, run clear of the clouds.  I leaned against my side window to glance up at that familiar yet condescending white face. The view took my breath away.   The moon shone like a searchlight surrounded by a salting of veiled stars - in the exact center of a perfectly round, giant, glowing hole in the clouds.  I nearly drove off the road as I stared up through that heavenly portal.

Another is a mental snapshot of the Martinez Hills above the Carquinez Strait.  Out running early one morning, I came up into the hills from the east.  The sun still lingered below the horizon behind me, the air was heavy but not quite foggy.  It was early spring and the hillsides were carpeted with young green grass.  As I crested a ridge, I could see the hills rolling away, piling atop one another until at about a mile distant, the verdant hilltops touched, then blended into the sky.  The scene was so simple in its beauty.  A mere duet of color - spring green grass against the shifting gray of a cloudy morning sky.

How can photos capture those moments of beauty that stop you in your tracks?

In both scenarios, I was alone, no one to share the beauty with, and really no way to adequately capture the moment for sharing later.  I used to be disappointed at times like that, knowing that I couldn't share the moment with anyone.  Until one day it occurred to me that I was sharing the moment with someone.  And, not only that, I was enjoying the moment with the Artist who had conceived and created such a magnificent setting.  I recognized that God, the original, quintessential artist, had prepared that particular view for Him and me - alone.  That scene in that moment was ours to share.  He had given me a gift, and it was mine to enjoy in his presence.

When I began thinking about joy, those were the first images - the first thoughts that came to my mind.  Often men talk about the joy of holding their children shortly after birth.  For me, births were times for other emotions and other thoughts - bewilderment, fear, anxiety - what have we gone and gotten ourselves into now?  For me, the joy came later as I built a relationship with each child.  Joy comes in seeing them recognize me across a crowded room.  Joy comes in hearing them say "daddy's home!"

We read the list of spiritual fruits that we should be cultivating and joy can be found there. We read Paul's letter to the Phillipians where he speaks eloquently about his joy in the Lord, and of his joy in so many different situations - including painful and difficult ones.  And those illustrate how joy can be maintained in spite of circumstances and can be utilized to serve others.  Sometimes it does take a little work to be joyful.

But just for a moment, I want you to think about the Source of joy.  Settle back into the joy of being alone with He who is the benevolent Source of joy.  ...the joy found in a pause, to draw in a scent that takes you back to a happy time.  ...the joy found in a sunrise or a sunset.  ...the joy of being in God's presence as you sip His coffee and turn the pages of His book on a rainy Saturday morning.  God loves us, and that alone should bring us joy. But don't forget that he is a giver, and he anxiously awaits opportunities to demonstrate that love and bless us with joy.

Henry J. van Dyke wrote the following verses and attached them to the most familiar passages from Beethoven's 9th Symphony.

Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee,

God of glory, Lord of love;

hearts unfold like flow'rs before Thee,

Opening to the Sun above,

Melt the clouds of sin and sadness;

drive the dark of doubt away;

Giver of immortal gladness,

fill us with the light of day!

All Thy works with joy surround Thee,

earth and heav'n reflect Thy rays,

stars and angels sing around Thee,

center of unbroken praise:

Field and forest, vale and mountain,

Flow'ry meadow, flashing sea,

chanting bird and flowing fountain,

call us to rejoice in Thee.

Thou art giving and forgiving,

ever blessing, ever blest,

well-spring of the joy of living,

ocean-depth of happy rest!

Thou the Father, Christ our Brother,—

all who live in love are Thine:

Teach us how to love each other,

lift us to the Joy Divine.

Mortals join the mighty chorus,

which the morning stars began;

Father-love is reigning o'er us,

brother-love binds man to man.

Ever singing, march we onward,

victors in the midst of strife;

joyful music lifts us sunward

in the triumph song of life.

Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee,

God of glory, Lord of love;

Jesus the Bread of Life

Will you take a walk with me along the Sea of Galilee?  As we wander north, the rising sun dazzles the waves on the rocking sea.  A small boy, maybe 8 or 9 years old runs along the edge of the lake.  As he turns toward a simple fisherman's cottage we see he's dangling a recent catch of fish from a string. As we approach the cottage we can hear the boy's mother humming and can't help but smell the scent of baked barley wafting on the breeze.

If we wait there for just a moment we will hear familiar maternal admonitions as the heedless child, hastily acknowledging and assenting, races away toward a nearby hillside carrying a small bag

Let's follow him along the shore road, up and over that hill.  We crest the hill, with the lake spreading out below us to our right and the Gallilean hillsides bathed in new sunshine to our left.

We stop short as the road descends.  What is this crowd of people we see below?  It occurs to us for the first time that the fishermen are not in their boats on the lake - they have joined many others, all standing, listening to an unimposing figure quietly teaching.

The morning wears on as we watch, shadows shorten, and the crowd grows restless.  We catch glimpses of the boy as he wanders in and out among the men, largely unnoticed.  He picks up a prize once, it looks like a stone or a small rock, we can't tell from where we stand, and he absentmindedly drops it into his bag - as boys are likely to do.

The Teacher has paused, some of the men close to Him appear to be in conference, and one  gestures across the lake, another points up the road toward us where we watch.  All seem to shake their heads.  The boy wanders close at this point, and is unexpectedly drawn into the conversation, and just as unexpectedly is relieved of his small bag. The bag is handed down the line to the Teacher.  The boy seems unconcerned, yet the teacher calls for him.  The contents of the bag are laid on a large rock.  The Teacher smiles and  calls the boy close upon discovering the stone, and together they examine the features of his prize.  The crowd mills about restlessly as  Teacher and pupil explore the facets of the simple creation.  The boy smiles, nods and laughs once as the Teacher lowers the stone back into the bag and returns both to the grinning youngster.

What else had been in the bag?  Well maybe by now you have guessed that laid out on that rock were 5 small barley loaves and 2 fish intended as lunch for the boy.

Another conference.  The Teacher's disciples move into the crowd and the crowd begins to cluster and sit among the stones and wildflowers.

Let's appreciate the amazement in the eyes of a small boy as handfulls of his mother's still soft bread begin to fill baskets, which are handed to the Teacher's disciples and then distributed to the men and women scattered across the hillside.  The fish are handled likewise.  The boy stands transfixed for the whole process, taking his own lunch of fish and barley bread directly from the hands of the Teacher, finally refusing to take any more as his small belly is completely filled and satisfied.

The day ends in the small fisherman's cottage with an excited boy, held in contempt by his dubious mother, till her husband returns home telling the same amazing story.  He sets a large basket of dark bread at her feet.   Her own bread that she had just baked that morning - still as fresh as the minute she pulled it from their tiny stone oven.

John's Gospel picks up the narrative the next day:

So when the crowd saw that Jesus was not there, nor his disciples, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum, seeking Jesus. When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” Jesus answered them, “you are seeking me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves.  Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you.  Then they said to him, “What must we do, to be doing the works of God?”  Jesus answered them, “This is the work of God,that you believe in him whom he has sent.”  So they said to him, “Then what sign do you do, that we may see and believe you? What work do you perform? (Did they not remember the bread they had just eaten the day prior?) Our fathers ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’”  Jesus then said to them, “It was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but my Father, gives you the true bread from heaven.  For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”  They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.”

Jesus said to them, 

“I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst."

Is the Bread of Life enough to satisfy your soul?

Happy Father's Day

For as high as the heavens are above the earth,

    so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;

¹² 

as far as the east is from the west,

    so far does he remove our transgressions from us.

¹³ 

As a father shows compassion to his children,

    so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.

¹⁴ 

For he knows our frame;

    he remembers that we are dust.

One day a fisherman had urgent business on the far side of a quiet cove. The cove was an active, cheery place where otters and dolphins could be seen to play in the gentle surf.  That particular day, there was no one to stay and care for his young daughter, so he made her a nest among the salty canvas and course brown coils of rope in the stern of his fishing boat.  The boat was small and as they were driven before the breeze the shifting winds would loft her blond curls across his bronze arm.  He held the tiller with his rough stained right hand, his fingers falling into familiar callus carved grooves in the burnished handle.

The breeze was gentle and the sea rolled green and soft beneath the gliding craft.  The capricious cove lay dormant,  protected by a far off reef which foamed, disturbed by thundering waves.  Beyond the reef the mighty sea stretched blue and green till it became the sky and raced back again in cobalt blue.  The girl gazed up enchanted, watching as puffy clouds formed and deformed into a menagerie of friendly shapes. The brief journey took them to a nearby village where an old friend lived alone.

It proved a warm day to patch an old woman's shingle roof and mend an aging barn door.  The fisherman worked with purpose and at his side his small helper would hand him nails or tie the rough wood shingles to a length of rope for him to hoist to the roof.  Hungry for lunch, the little girl squinted into the face of the climbing sun, and wiped a bead of sweat from her porcelain brow.  She smiled and tossed her hair gratefully as the first of many clouds soon shaded her from the unrelenting rays.  However, her father would not share her garden bench or join the lunch of fresh strawberries and cream.

Late into the sticky afternoon, father and daughter completed their tasks.  They were invited to stay the night, but the fisherman declined.  Hand in hand the pair strode across the sand, then drifted along the shore in their little boat as the orange afternoon sun was tucked in and blanketed by lowering clouds.  The friendly figures in the sky had now been replaced by furrows plowed by a contrary wind.

The girl rested in her nest of ropes and sacks dwarfed by the fisherman's coat, which warmed her and conspired with the bobbing craft to send her softly off to sleep.

She awoke with the first crash of thunder, peeped out from beneath the hood, felt the sting of rain on her cheeks, and anxiously looked to her father's face.  Silhouetted against a flickering backdrop and soaked by the driving rain, he stared ahead with stolid determination and focus.  Sensing the glow of her gaze, he offered a gentle smile and a practiced wink.

She glanced around at an angered sea.  She felt the shift and roll and buck and slide, heard the timbers groan and dripping ropes creak as boat and captain refused to submit to the greater force.  She looked again at her father's face, then settled down among the musty coils.

She next awoke to the sound of chirping birds and the warmth of sunlight streaming through her bedroom window.  Her father's singing filtered in from the barn.  Propped on her elbow she could see out her window, and above the sill she spied the little boat bobbing gently, tied just beyond the sandy shore.  She lay still and listened again for her father's soft singing, then lay her curls back on the pillow and breathed a child's contented sigh.

Jesus Said:

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?  –Matthew 6:26

Smug and Humbled

At times, I tell my eldest that God can use anything or anyone, at any time, for any reason, to get any part of His truth across to us.  That’s one thing I love about Him—the fact that He can use even somebody like me, with NO perfection, to do HIS perfection.

He often uses things like entertainment to whisper to my heart, and last night’s movie was no exception.  Our hearts had been touched by The Nativity Story before; the portrayal of history and of what could have been part of Mary & Joseph’s story is thought provoking for me and Scott.  Both of us grew up hearing the story and completely taking it for granted, missing so much.

If I could give 2014 a theme for the major lesson I’ve been learning, it would be God’s Wisdom.  He doesn’t miss a thing when He orchestrates our world; not one life; not one detail.  His orchestra is all so……perfect!  God does not flaunt His wisdom, though He has every right to; instead He chooses just the right moments that give us a peek into this part of His nature.  We simply have to choose to believe what we see in those peeks, but it’s not always that easy, is it?

In two acts of sweet mercy and grace, God chose to speak directly to Mary and then Joseph as He sent them on the most incredible journey two humans will ever make.  Can you imagine hosting the King of Glory in your humble home during His growing up years?  Could they have imagined what was to come?  As far as we know, all that was told to Mary is that Jesus would reign on David’s throne forever, and all that was told Joseph was that this Jesus would “save His people from their sins.”

Ella happens to be studying the Roman Empire in Story of the World for school.  She had a test on the subject today, in fact. The depravity and cruelty of many rulers at that time is shocking.  With that fresh in my mind and the visuals during the movie last night, I understood just a little better why the Jews were looking for their Messiah to set the world right and save them……from their troubles, not their sins.

The whisper to my heart last night was “It’s easy to sit on the smug throne of 20/20 hindsight and wonder why the Jews did not see what was right in front of their faces. How many times have you done the very same thing?”  My heart was humbled:  “Too many times.”  I thought of various difficult blessings throughout the years—losses of those I loved, infertility, burying children—every single time I prayed for escape from the pain of the circumstances, though I couched my prayers in illusions of wanting God’s will above my own.  I truly do want His best for me because I know He is the Wise One, but when His best hurts like the very darkness from which He died to save me, my heart defaults to questioning His wisdom and looking for a way out.

It wasn’t until about 6 years ago that I began to realize that God was saving me through the pain, not from the pain.  His goal is not my comfort; His goal is the likeness of Jesus in me.  He’s saving me from the darkness within myself, which, if left unchecked by the grace, mercy, and love of my Savior, would destroy me.  Realizing that His goal for me is always, absolutely good relieves the haunting questions.

When I catch a glimpse of my Daddy’s wisdom in the circumstances He has allowed for me, as I did this year through our little guy’s adoption, I stand in awe!  As with Mary and Joseph, God handed us a miracle, His miracle, and told us not to fear but to hang on for one exciting ride!  I’m certainly not comparing our Lord to Dawsen, but watching an artist’s rendering of what Mary and Joseph may have experienced, helped me to realize a bit more that their fears and questions were not unlike my own.  Gratefulness is in my heart today as I think on what has been done for little ol’ me by an awesome and wise God!