The twelve men had been with Jesus long enough to know that He enjoyed a unique relationship with God. On more than one occasion they discovered him missing, only to stumble upon him praying. Like someone on an extended journey, homesick, frequently compelled to call home.
They saw how He derived strength and serenity from those conversations. The intimacy He had with the Lord was intriguing. For months they had watched and now they wanted what He had.
One day, one of them finally had the courage to verbalize what they were all thinking.
They waited. Would He be willing to share His secrets?
Sensing their readiness for what He was about to reveal, the Rabbi began.
Had they heard that right? Did He really just say…Abba?
Their Scriptures referred to God as “Father,” but only rarely. Just 15 times, to be exact. No God-fearing Jew would have the chutzpah to approach the Most High God and address Him as “Abba.” It felt irreverent. But, at the same time, inviting.
It was, indeed, an invitation into the intimate fellowship of Father and Son. A new way of relating to Almighty God was opening up. The Teacher continued to instruct and prepare them for this coming change.
It took some getting used to, this idea of familiarity with Yahweh. His was a name so holy it could not be spoken out loud, and could only be written if the vowels were omitted. It seemed outrageous that the great “I AM” would now answer to the name “Abba.” He was a God to be kept at a safe distance.
What they didn’t understand at the time was that Jesus Himself was The Way to closeness with the Father. He was the means by which men could be brought near to God. He was the path to Heaven, which would be paved by His death, and opened by the Spirit upon His return to the Father.
Soon it would all make sense. Then they would begin to call Him Abba, Father.
He invites us to call Him Father, too.
Regardless of what kind of dad you had, whether he’s in heaven or still on earth, you can experience the love of a perfect Heavenly Father. Jesus makes this possible. He closed the gap between Holy God and unholy man. He brings us before His Father’s throne and introduces us as family. We are welcomed as sons and daughters.
We are Embraced. Chosen. Forgiven. Adopted. Loved.
When we pray, we say Abba, Father.
He Hears. Responds. Cares. Answers. Acts.
It’s Father’s Day. Why don’t you call home? Your Father is waiting to hear from you.
–Jesus’ teaching on prayer can be found in Matthew 6:5-13 and Luke 11:1-13.
Trees Don’t Live That Long!
Today my dad turns 80!
Don’t worry, he won’t be offended. We’ve said this to each other for many years. In fact, when he turned 60, I gave him a coffee mug with this sentiment and a cross section of a tree with his name on it. He still has it.
My dad is known for his great sense of humor. My sister once dated a college basketball player who unfortunately spent more time on the sidelines than on the court. A former collegiate “cager” himself, Dad just HAD to take a good-natured jab at her bench-sitting boyfriend. So he doctored an 8×10″ team photo of the poor guy, taping some broken toothpicks to his posterior. Splinters. From the bench.
His quick wit still keeps us in stitches. Two weeks ago our family gathered to celebrate Rachel’s college graduation. At lunch after church, he had us all laughing so hard that the entire restaurant turned around at one point to see what the commotion was about!
He stays active, and is an excellent golfer. He was an accomplished Air Force navigator during the Cold War years, and flew dangerous missions during a year-long tour in Vietnam. He always worked hard to provide for our family. And his stealth and generosity in picking up the tab at restaurants is legendary.
But what I admire most about him is his faith. He came to it late in life. Strong athletes and proud military men aren’t the first to admit their need for a Savior. I believe his finest moment occurred one night at the close of a Christian concert he attended with my mom. He humbled himself, got up out of his seat and went forward, with tears on his face, to accept Christ.
Tall trees don’t grow overnight. But in time that seedling began to sink its roots down deep into the Word of God. It soaked in the teaching of godly men, eventually offering its own shade in which other men could grow and learn biblical truth.
When I was going through a spiritually challenging season a few years ago, he got on the phone and shared a devotional passage that he thought might encourage me. It did. I found strength and shelter under the branches of that spreading tree.
So, Dad, on your 80th birthday, thank you. For being that sturdy tree for our family. For your service, generosity, and humor. But most of all, thank you for your faith in God and devotion to His Word.
We are so blessed that this tree has lived that long.
She made her entrance early into this world, weighing all of 2 pounds, 12 ounces.
Tiny premature babies face giant hurdles.
But this was 1936. There were no NICUs, no incubators, no supplemental oxygen.
There were only prayers. And the will to survive.
Her hand was the size of her father’s thumb nail, and her entire body fit in the palm of his hand. They brought her home from the hospital in a shoe box. There were no car seats in 1936, either.
But the hand of God was upon her. She survived.
The first five years of her life were rough. Bitter New York winters brought annual bouts of pneumonia, and frequent hospitalizations.
But she was a fighter. Strong-willed, like her dad.
She grew stronger, and then she grew up. Graduated from high school and business school. Got married. Had three kids.
Her kids grew up, and had kids of their own. She enjoyed traveling, especially if it took her near the coast, her favorite place to be. And those early prayers for her survival were now paid forward, as she became a faithful prayer warrior, interceding for others.
But always, there was that pesky shortness of breath. She accepted it as normal. She had just learned to live with it.
When she was in her early seventies, doctors discovered a hole in her heart. Congenital. From birth.
The hole was successfully patched in a procedure that was developed for newborns with the same defect. The doctor remarked that he had never performed the procedure on an adult before, much less a woman in her seventies!
But that’s my mom. She’s tough. A survivor.
Tomorrow that premature baby with a hole in her heart will turn 80.
Her life is a miracle. She is special–to God, her family, and all who know her.
But GOD never ages or changes. The One who brought her through eight decades of life will continue to be faithful to her–and to us.
What a precious promise, spoken from the tender heart of a good Father. He who created us will carry us, every single day of our lives. “From life’s first cry, to final breath…”* He will remain. He will sustain.
Your life IS a miracle life, nurtured and sustained by the gracious Giver of Life.
You really shouldn’t be here, you know.
But we’re so very thankful to God that you are.
* Lyrics from “In Christ Alone,” by Stuart Townend.
1) Am I in a right relationship with Him? Is this request consistent with His Word?
God is not a “vending machine,” where you insert a prayer and out pops your selection. In this verse we see two conditions to answered prayer: abiding in Him and allowing His words to abide in us. “Abiding” implies connection, relationship. This should be your first priority in prayer.
2) Will it bring glory to God?
It’s not about me! It’s all about Him, His fame, His glory. Keep this in mind as you pray.
3) Will it help further His purposes?
We are here on this earth to have an eternal influence. Surrendering to God’s purposes for your life is essential to experiencing answered prayer.
4) Is my faith in God or in a certain outcome?
Look to the Giver, not to the gifts you desire from Him. Mature faith focuses on WHO God is rather than on WHAT we want.
5) Are my motives pure?
If you’re not seeing answers to your prayers, perhaps you need to pause and ask God to purify your motives and cleanse your heart. Then your prayers will more clearly reflect His heart.
Prayer is always answered. But a good father doesn’t say “Yes” to everything.
No, I love you too much.
I love you, but you’ll have to wait.
LOVE is ALWAYS the reason behind His answers! You can trust His heart, even when He says “No.” Remember that He loves you, even in the disappointment, even in the waiting.
Come to Him in prayer. As a dearly loved child. Welcomed by a good and perfect Father.
Pour out your heart to Him. Then ask Him to change your heart. Above all, trust His heart of love.
And you will learn to love Him all the more.
It’s what you become when you have three daughters who prefer pom poms to push-ups.
This past week we both took the day off to go “boost some spirit” at the WY State Spirit Competition in Casper. Rachel and her boyfriend Alex also joined us as we cheered for the cheerleaders.
After the competition, we all commented on the athleticism of a couple of the other teams’ male cheerleaders. They each held a petite female cheerleader high above their heads–with one hand.
It was sheer strength. Combined with total trust.
I can still picture those burly boys at the state competition, gripping two small feet with one large hand, while the cheerleader above them just smiled and waved at the crowd. They made it look so easy.
And what about the “flyer,” as the girl in the air is called? How long did it take her to develop that kind of confidence in her “base?” How many times did they practice that lift before she could set aside her fear? And do it with a smile on her face?
Don’t be afraid…for I am with you.
Don’t be discouraged (or “anxiously look about you,” NAS)…for I am your God.
The promises support the commands. Instead of being anxious and afraid, the Lord wants us to remember that He is God…our God…our God-with-us.
I will hold you up.
His promises are the basis for our confidence. They teach us to trust Him. Our fears begin to settle down. We learn to relax in His strong grip.
We can have faith to fly, because the Almighty God is underneath us. He lifts us up with His victorious right hand. He could do it with the little pinkie on His right hand if He wanted to.
So, chin up. He won’t let you down.
Hold your head high. He’s holding onto you.
Put your total trust in His sheer strength! He will carry you through!
Let His promises cheer your heart and lift your spirits today!
According to Chapman, the five love languages are: Acts of Service, Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Gifts, and Physical Touch. You can read more about them and even take a handy quiz to help determine your love language at: www.5lovelanguages.com.
Chris and I read “The Five Love Languages” shortly after the book came out in the mid-90’s. You’d think we’d be fluent in each other’s love languages by now. But we forget. We get lazy. Learning to speak a second language requires focus and determination. And practice.
My helpful hubby got some credit for the handwritten “note” on the back of the envelope that morning. But my heart sank a little when I realized it was only to tell me that he had filled up my car with gas, and not something more, well…inspiring.
Like I said, while I do appreciate them, “Acts of Service” are just not my love language.
I’m not very fond of that love language either.
You can demand that others love you a certain way. Or you can choose to receive the love they offer you in whatever form it takes. Because love is…love. This act of service sprang from a heart of love. Will you accept it or reject it? The choice is yours.
Standing at the kitchen counter at the start of that new day, I made a choice to accept it.
And to thank the Lord for a husband who finds joy in unselfish service. To receive the gracious gift of a full tank of gas. To let the power of those two little words, “Love you,” linger in my thoughts and penetrate my heart.
Love deeply. From the heart.
Just love, and be loved.
So simple, it needs no translation.
I’m used to being called “old.” Teenage daughters make sure of that.
But I had never been called “old-fashioned.” Until the other day.
I was extolling the benefits of marriage to a young unmarried gal at work. I shared how my husband and I had been blessed with three wonderful daughters and had recently celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. I hoped it might serve as an inspiration, an example worth emulating.
To her generation, monogamy is monotonous. Marriage? An archaic institution, a mere piece of paper. Traditional family values have gone the way of land lines and snail mail.
I suddenly felt out of touch and out of style.
Commentators on this verse agree that the image here is of travelers who have lost their way. They’re standing at a crossroads, where many paths converge. Which way should they go? The Scripture answers by encouraging weary wanderers to choose the “ancient” paths, the “good” way.
Just because something is “old” doesn’t mean it has lost its relevance. God’s principles are timeless, eternal, intended for every generation. Choosing to follow His ways isn’t outdated or old-fashioned.
The benefit of sticking to God’s time-tested paths is also laid out for us in this verse: You will find rest for your souls.
Isn’t this the kind of well-being we’d all welcome? The type of satisfaction we should each seek, regardless of age?
I shared this verse with the young woman the following week. I am praying that she considers it.
Each of us, at various points in our lives, will encounter figurative forks in the road, those spiritual crossroads. Let God’s reliable Word be your guide. Trust that His plans for you are good. Walk in His paths and you will find true satisfaction and rest.
Call me old-fashioned. I don’t care.
*Definitions are from The NAS Old Testament Hebrew Lexicon.
Tomorrow these two will begin a new adventure. They will leave the frozen Wyoming tundra and head to warmer parts. The wooded hills of Virginia beckon. They must answer the call.
We will miss them, accustomed as we have become to the two tall figures who have become a fixture on the worn plaid loveseat in our family room. Countless hours have they spent there, side by side, amusing themselves with videos on their iPhones, completing college assignments on their laptops (that would be Emily) or watching football games on the television screen (that would be Morgan).
“It is bittersweet,” I say to friends who inquire about their imminent departure. We are so excited for them. We are sad for us.
But really, there is no bitter. There is only sweet.
If those cushions could communicate, they would tell of the many conversations, laughs, and giggles (that would be Emily) they overheard during the past four and a half years. Indeed, as Chris and I warmed our assigned seats on the adjacent matching plaid couch, we too were privileged to look on with pride and joy as this young couple matured in love, walked uprightly, waited patiently (that would be Morgan), made plans to marry.
There were a few disagreements, occasional misunderstandings, and some tears, to be sure. These are necessary in the forging of a true and lasting union. But even the bitter becomes sweet when Christ is present.* From the beginning they had invited Him into their relationship. And He smiled upon them and blessed them as they occupied their place on that loveseat.
So tomorrow we will send them out with our blessing. We will no doubt shed more tears before the day is done. But we will smile through the tears. We will hold them tight and then force ourselves to let them go. And we will thank the Lord for the time He gave us.
Sweet, sweet time. Sweet, sweet couple.
Go now, and be a blessing.
Our couch may be empty.
But our hearts will be full.
I decided I’d rather be red than white. So I’d foolishly smear baby oil on my translucent skin and proceed to roast like a rotisserie chicken beside our backyard pool. A few times I even held one of those foil reflector shields under my upturned face, as if the almighty Arizona sun needed magnifying. I cringe now at the thought.
Fast forward a few decades and there is now a price to be paid for my youthful tanning indiscretions: wrinkles, sun damage, and skin cancer. I’m a frequent flyer at my dermatologist’s office. When I walk through that door it feels more like I’m entering a war zone than a waiting room, with all those aging faces sporting bandages.
We reap what we sow. Even if it takes years to appear.
Sow sun, reap skin damage.
Today I returned to the dreaded “war zone.” Only this visit was for a treatment called “Photodynamic Therapy,” or PDT. Levulanic acid is carefully applied to the face and allowed to soak into the skin for one hour. It is then activated by a special blue light, which causes the chemicals to attack and kill any pre-cancerous cells.
But wait, it gets even better. This incredible treatment not only prevents skin cancer from developing, it also reverses past sun damage! I find this absolutely amazing.
It’s also an illuminating illustration of our God.
God is not mocked. But He is also merciful.
He enters those war-torn places in our lives and soothes them with His gentle, but penetrating light. Neutralizing the cancerous spread of sin. Repairing, even reversing the damage inflicted upon us by others and, yes, even ourselves. Restoring us to spiritual health and emotional wholeness.
No, we don’t deserve it.
We can merely receive it, with an upturned face and a heart bowed down.
Come. Shine on me, Lord.