To Those I Love

Palm Sunday in Jerusalem courtesy google images

Before I tell you what has happened, I want you to know that I am okay. For now.  I have been in hiding with several others since the Passover.

I will describe the events to you as best I can, but please forgive me if I miss anything. My hands shake as though I am feeble. But frailty has not overcome my body.

Fear, however ...

It didn't start out that way, though.

We came to the city to be part of the festival. Our arrival was a few days before. We didn't want to miss anything. I don't think anyone could've anticipated the week would end the way it did.

The week's events began with unimaginable fanfare. Travel across town was impossible. The streets were flooded with a sea of people, carrying palm branches, and some threw cloths on the ground. Everyone shouted, some sang. Children bounced with excitement.

And the Man came through the gate, riding on a donkey, looking regal yet dressed like a servant. 

The celebratory atmosphere didn't last, though. The church leaders followed Him around town, seeking ways to discredit Him.

He didn't appear to fear the leaders. Instead, He withstood every challenge. Answered every accusation with words that left them stumbling over their tongues.

Frustration painted on their faces.

Rumors of conspiratorial efforts to end this man floated like low-hanging clouds.

As the week progressed, the crowd splintered into differing opinions. Some backed the church leaders, spewing accusations and wishes that this man would stop his heretical tour of the great and beautiful Jerusalem.

The Cross Courtesy Google Images

I didn't know what to think. I'd seen Him up close. We'd made eye contact once, after He'd finished turning over tables in the temple. A mix of fury and heartbreak seemed to crease his brow. I wanted to understand. And because I wanted to know more, I drew close to His group of followers, if only to hear what they would say about Him.

Some believed Him to be something of a Messiah. Others knew He was a rabbi. And yet, a few, like me, followed closely to learn who this man was.

I never expected to be awakened late one night to the shouts echoing and torch flames lighting the sky. Initially, I thought it was a terrible dream. Then the others in our household began moving about, whispering, fear sparking the air with an energy I didn't like.

Linking arms, we left our home and followed the crowd to see what the commotion was for. The tops of heads bobbed ahead of us, leading towards Gethsemane.

And there we were. Numbers I couldn't pretend to count, standing against the one man. He had his disciples with him, but still ...

Tensions increased. Peter produced his sword, using it against a servant's ear. The Man put it back on. My mind spun wildly trying to keep up, but it wasn't to be. The Man went with the mass of people.

We followed, treading nervously behind, wondering how this night would end.

The next 24 hours staggered ahead like a soldier drunk on the blood of his enemies.

The road to Golgotha courtesy Google Images

I sought out His mother and watched. What was she thinking? His disciples fled. He had no one. But her. And she stayed close, following, weeping, speaking words I wasn't close enough to hear.

He was marched up the hill to Golgatha, his back ribbons from the lashes he'd received. His face was painted red and dripping from the thorny crown. His blood left a trail marking his path.

It was as if the more blood the soldiers saw, the more their appetite expanded, demanding to be filled.

I couldn't tear myself away. To the bitter death of this man, I remained on the periphery.

But when we heard him speak, "It is finished," and his breath left his body, the earth and sky responded with such force that everyone ran for cover. Those I traveled with grabbed me by the arm and pulled. Had I not complied, I am certain I would've lost said arm.

Once everything calmed, reports floated into our hiding spot. The curtain hanging between the most holy place and the Holy of Holies had ripped--top to bottom. The man was placed in a borrowed tomb. And soldiers were on the hunt for his followers. There needed to be actions taken to ensure he remained in the tomb, where he'd been laid. 

He is Risen courtesy Google images

This brings me to my current state. I still can't make sense of this. I'm Numb. Stunned into silence. Or maybe it's fear. My mind races faster than I can process what I've seen. All that I've heard.

And now the rumors that this man is not dead are flying about among his followers. Excitement and boldness have been born in the hearts of everyone who's spent the past three years with him.

I haven't personally seen him, but I have hope. I was told his disciple, Peter, said he was the Christ. The Son of the Living God. That was before ...

Immanuel. God with us.

His mother, Mary, said she was told his name would be Jesus because He would take away the sins of the world.

On a personal note:

Jesus came to the earth He created to pay a debt none of us could. His sacrifice was enough to cover our debts past, present, and future. This week, we celebrate, leading up to the remembrance of all that He did. It is my hope, my prayer that all whom we love will find themselves captivated by His great love for us. 

Jesus is the Christ. The Son of the Living God. The only One who can set us free from that which binds us, heal our diseases, and rescue our souls from the snare of the devil.

Have a blessed and fruitful week.

Until next time, Shalom. 🌿🌴 Karlene 🌿🌴

To Look Through Faith-Colored Glasses

Closed Door courtesy Google Images

 I sat outside the office door, "Lord, Your will be done. Speak through me. Guide the conversation. This is in your hands."

I'd come to a place where figuring things out, analyzing, and strategizing the next steps were a source of exhaustion and feelings of burnout. And I just wanted God's direction and to know that He'd opened the door (or sealed it shut).

Turning to the Lord for direction is one of the best things we can do as followers of Jesus. The path He's planned for our lives is good, and when we can follow it, we can begin to see how intricately complex and beautiful (and challenging) life is for us. Some steps along the path will be freeing, exhilarating--an adventure filled with hope and accomplishment. But, as we travel along, we may find the path narrowing, becoming more difficult, sometimes making us question whether we'd misunderstood the open door back there outside the office.

For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. Matthew 7:14 ESV

It's doubtful that anyone enjoys traveling a difficult path. I've heard friends' family members lament, "Can't they catch a break?" when difficult news kept pouring in. Of course, this is a normal, human reaction. (I've often asked the same question--no room for judgment here.)

But what if there was a lesson we miss because our focus isn't on the kingdom of God, but on our own comfort and satisfaction?

The other day, I was listening to a podcast Back Porch Theology with Lisa Harper. In this hour, Lisa and Allison discuss Ruth's story. They briefly mentioned the closest kinsman redeemer. A comment was made: "We don't even know his name."

Ruth-Barley Harvest courtesy Google Images

This statement was followed by comments regarding how often we want to count the cost of saying "Yes" to Jesus. But do we ever count the cost of saying "No" to Jesus?

Was the closest kinsman redeemer worried about his reputation? Taking a Moabite woman as his wife would be scandalous. He could've been the grandfather of a king. And generations later, we learn that this man forfeited his part in the lineage of our Savior, Jesus. He had no idea what he was giving up when he said no.

But if he could've known, faith would be unimportant.

Without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him (Hebrews 11:6 NKJV).

Can you imagine? Naomi married, then followed her husband and two sons to Moab due to a famine in the land of Bethlehem. Her husband died. Her sons married, then died, leaving widowed women with Naomi. She heard that there was bread in Bethlehem again and decided to return home. She had nothing left, except the Moabite women as her daughters. She urged them to return to their father's homes, as she wouldn't be able to marry and expect them to wait for a son to be born and grow to marrying age.

Her life had turned bitter. She couldn't "catch a break," and likely knew she was returning home desolate.

But Ruth chose to continue on with her. She said "Yes" to Naomi's God. And later, so did Boaz. Ruth couldn't have anticipated laying the grandfather of King David--and a distant ancestor of Jesus--in Naomi's arms.

Their yes was not only costly, but also had a huge payout.

Narrow Gate/Difficult Path Courtesy Google Images

When our path becomes narrow, we may come across opportunities to take a detour for a smoother road, less resistance, or the illusion of rest. It might look like a bigger payday, lower friction in the office, fewer people to interact with, less time on the road, and fewer responsibilities. 

When these opportunities present, it is vital to ask the Lord whether it's His direction. It may be a mirage. It might be a distraction to get us to veer off a plan set in motion by our Father to accomplish something beautiful. Perhaps to share His love with those people sharing the office.

Jesus said, "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 5:14-16 ESV).

Considering these things, while the road ahead may be rough, we can take courage in the hope that Jesus is with us. If He called us to the path, He will be with us along the way. This is our guarantee.

Although we cannot see the end goal or the result of our "Yes," we can know that throughout eternity, we will get to celebrate God's masterful work in and through our lives and those with us.

And this brings us to our best defense against the bitterness of questioning our choices: 

If we believe God led us onto the path, give thanks to Him. He is faithful. He's forgotten nothing. He knows us better than we know ourselves. And He knows what the end of our path looks like. And it's better than we could ever hope. 

But as it is written: "Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him" (1 Corinthians 2: 9 NKJV).

It's when we look through faith colored glasses that we'll see clearly our hope. But we must allow Jesus to clear the lenses for us by trusting Him, which means we cannot "lean on our own understanding" (Proverbs 3:5).

Until next time, walk in His light and life. 💜 Karlene J 💜

Coming soon: Letters to the Church: Galatians