Lessons from Birds

This morning, I was reminded of Jesus' words in Matthew 6, “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?”

I awoke to sunlight streaming in through my window and the birds joyously singing. It was a perfect reminder that when God provides beautiful weather and necessities in plenty, I should praise Him.

It is God who allows blessings in my life.

In contrast, while I was on a walk in the chilly rain last week, I happened to stumble upon a tiny baby bird lying lifeless on the pathway. Apparently, it had fallen from its nest high in the trees above and had broken its neck. Yet, the sound of other birds singing still resonated throughout the woods. It taught me another lesson: When God takes away life and allows grief, I should praise Him, still.

It is God who allows sorrows in my life as well.

The past couple of weeks have been a reality check for me. I have seen deaths, watched others endure sickness and suffering, and experienced grief and loss on different levels. Getting caught up in living can steal my focus -- grief tends to rob all joy. But, I keep striving to remember that this pain is temporary and light – it should not be the focus of my heart. 


Sometimes I feel unloved and rejected. Sometimes I don't feel valuable at all. But that is the devil's deceit; Christ's rhetorical question, “Are you not much more valuable than they?” demands the answer, “Yes.”

Christ proved His power and authority at the cross. 

 He proved my worth in His sight at the cross. 

 He proved His love for me at the cross.

Heavenly Father, thank You for Your deep, great love. You show me that You value me, regardless of my shortcomings. It's not that I'm something special – it's that Jesus is Someone special, and He made a way for me to have true hope and joy in You.

Please continue to lead me as I praise you...

One step at a time...

Rachel

Where are the pictures?

Many of you know how I obsess over photographs... and yes, I did take close to 3,000 photos while traveling in the Middle East last month.  So, where are all those pictures?  Most of them are simply stored on my computer.  But, I have uploaded some onto Facebook.

To view photos with more extensive captions about my trip to Israel, click here:  Israel

For photos of my three-day excursion into Jordan, click here:  Jordan Extension

Enjoy!

To Love, or Not to Love...

That really isn't the question.

Matthew 22:37–39 
Jesus said to him, 'You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.' This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'

1 John 3:16 
This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers.

1 John 3:18 
Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.

Clearly, God commands us to love.  First, we are called to love God.  Secondly, we are called to love others.  Practically speaking, this is not carried out through our words alone (although those do have a place), but through our actions of selfless service and in honesty and truthfulness.  

I understand that.  

But I want love to be perfect; selfishly, I want for it to satisfy me. Thus, when I am faced with the blaring fact that love is hard and requires sacrifice and risk, I want to run the opposite direction!  

In his book The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis warns:

Of all arguments against love none makes so strong an appeal to my nature as “Careful! This might lead you to suffering.”

To my nature, my temperament, yes. Not to my conscience. When I respond to that appeal I seem to myself to be a thousand miles away from Christ. If I am sure of anything I am sure that His teaching was never meant to confirm my congenital preference for safe investments and limited liabilities.…

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.

Am I willing to risk in order to love?
Am I willing to be obedient to God and choose to love?

My prayer is that God will strengthen me and give me the grace I need to step out and love.

One step at a time...
Rachel

Compassion at the Crossroads

Sit and soak it in. That was my goal in returning to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher on that Saturday afternoon, January 15. As I sat by the alleged “tomb” of Jesus, I watched lines and lines of people waiting to worship before different religious artifacts – usually ones that are admittedly constructed and placed by human hands long after the event it signifies actually took place. So fervent. So passionate. So desperate to even trail a finger along said religious artifact, or even to catch a glimpse of it.

Personally, I am not drawn to a veneration of the site, or any object within it. Thus, for me to sit and simply watch this zoo of worshippers – pushing, elbowing, murmuring – was difficult. In no way was I able to understand these people or truly appreciate the significance of the site or praise and worship in this place. It was too full of people, too full of camera flashes, and too full of my own questions about these objects – a stone step, a piece of the wall, a lit candle, a niche...

I'm home now... and while my thoughts are still incredibly jumbled and I still have many questions, there was one major thing that struck me as I sat and reflected within the walls of the sanctuary. It was this:

God chose the most ordinary and desolate of lands – a place of rock and sand, of harsh weather, of poverty and scandal – to redeem His people. Yet, it was a place at the crossroads of the world, where the good news of His redemption could filtrate to everyone. Still, today, people from all around the globe come to remember the events that took place in this arena. They come in all kinds of states, with all kinds of baggage, and with all kinds of backgrounds. There's no knowing what it took – what sacrifices they made – for them to come. But come they did – and with fervent zeal.

If there is one thing God continues to teach me, it is to feel His compassion – to see people the way He sees them. In this place 2000 years ago, Jesus walked and talked and expressed His love and compassion towards people – needy people, not unlike the ones who shuffled before me on Saturday. Jesus did not passively feel compassion in the way I might think of it. He chose to act upon His compassion – coming to earth, reaching out to actually, physically touch those in need, living an ordinary life, dying on a cross, and rising victoriously.

And as I sat, I was convicted that He has called me to do the same. He has called me to live in and among multitudes of needy people here on this earth. He has called me to see those needs and respond with compassion. He has called me to die to my own selfishness and live completely sold out for Him.

One step at a time...

Rachel

The Burial

A cemetery. 

When I think of Jerusalem's different sites, a cemetery is not a place that instantly comes to mind to visit. However, I had a particular cemetery high on my agenda of places to visit. Since Sunday was a free day for me (meaning that I did not have any classes or field studies) I obtained the key to the huge iron gate leading into the Jerusalem Protestant Cemetery, which is just adjacent to the Jerusalem University campus.

You know, cemeteries are curious places... This one consists just of dirt and stone with some scattered olive and date-palm trees (and a pack of wild dogs who barked at me but kept their distance as I kept mine)... not to mention memories. Memories of people from the past.

As I meandered through the graves, I stopped beneath an olive tree. The sun was setting and a cool breeze off of the sea was dancing through the leaves. It made a perfect spot for reflection and caused me think of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane (on the Mount of Olives), surrounded by olive trees. While in the garden, Jesus prayed, “Father, if it is possible, may this cup pass from me. Yet not my will but Yours be done” (see Matthew 26:36-46). Jesus was referring to His upcoming interrogation, torture, and death by crucifixion—not to mention the infinite wrath of God inflicted on Him as punishment for the sins of the world. While in the vicinity of those olive trees, Jesus' humanity was displayed in His struggle.

Today a similar struggle stared me in the face: the struggle to surrender.

I was reflecting: this is a time of limbo in my life. A time to question. What should I do with my future? What steps should I be taking to get there? How should I invest my time and energy right now? There are so many ideas and dreams I have in my head. I want to have control and plan things out. I want to know with certainty how my life will go. But that's not God's plan for me right now.

As I sat beneath the olive tree, I reflected on Jesus' situation. He also didn't know all the details of how things would turn out. He died to His own desires and simply obeyed God's leading. I wanted to lay aside my will as well and die to my desires. God brought a song to my mind: Hillsong's “Arms Open Wide.” It was filled with new meaning for me. Some of the lyrics say, “Here I stand, arms open wide. I am Yours and You are mine, Jesus. My whole life is Yours; I give it all, surrendered to Your Name. And forever I will pray, 'Have Your way, have Your way, Jesus.'”

That was my prayer there in the cemetery. And that is my continual prayer as I am here in Israel. I want to surrender to God and allow Him to work in and through my life, as I trust and obey Him.

One step at a time...

Rachel