Category: Blog Article

Epiphany may seem a strange word but it’s really something we all know. It’s when we suddenly get the essential meaning in a moment. Just think of those cartoons where the light bulb goes off over the character’s head to signify they finally understand clearly.

Scripture tells us to “trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding”. Let’s face it though, we are logical creatures raised in a culture where science serves to explain every aspect….almost. When things don’t add up in that scientific culture we are discouraged by society to believe God has any relevance. Battles rage in the world of education for where we should even open the door to God by discussing “intelligent design”. Battles also rage within us to believe in His word to trust, no matter what we see. We have to stop running from these battles.

Walking in that graveyard yesterday stirred up the depths of truth. We confess to love Christ and we confess to want to do His will. I kept thinking, “Did anyone bother to share hope and truth with those souls who lay beneath the stone markers? Am I willing to share my hope?”

My epiphany hit me while I walked among those names. I am in the hour of the harvest, but I must be willing to use the tools I’ve been given to gather. I must go out to labor in those fields. I must love those who have never known love. I must help others learn trust, who have never known trust. I have to be willing to go where I have no understanding in what I see. The harvest is always upon us but we need to set our feet and hands to the task at hand.

Luk 10:2  Then He said to them, “The harvest truly is great, but the laborers are few; therefore pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest.

Today I took a walk in the old portion of a cemetery I often pass on my way to church. I had never been to it before, but I wanted to know some history for where I live. The old section dated back to the 1800s with names familiar to me because of local streets and schools. There were so many graves marked with just a stone having a cross on it. No names or dates on these.

My tender heart began breaking and I let go of my tears. I wondered at all these people who had walked before me. How many of them would I meet in eternity? How many of them only had these stone markers which were disintegrating?

The wind buffeted me as I made my way back to my car. An ache undefined filled me and no words would come to make sense of my feelings. Alone, I prayed to the heavens for things unknown.

She was a friend who wandered into my life without fanfare, without notice. I didn’t seek her out nor did I pursue her. We found ourselves just talking now and again. Despite the differences in our age and even our backgrounds we just felt comfortable with one another. Eventually I gave her the keys to our home but more importantly, the keys to my heart.

She wandered out of my life eventually. Without fanfare, without notice; one day she just wasn’t around. Again, I didn’t seek her out or pursue her. She kept the keys though, for both house and heart; I never asked for them back. Years passed.

On a gray Sunday my phone rang unexpectedly. After a long chat I hung up. Friendships are intriguing. The best ones never skip a beat despite the length of time where we come in and out of each other’s lives.

The river is always moving but the question is, will we get in and move with it?

It was eighth grade and I sat behind my red head friend named Wendy. She turned around with a pen in her hand and asked, “shall we connect the dots for our freckles?” Her humor for our freckles has stayed with me throughout my life. I hadn’t always felt comfortable with my freckles, but she made me feel accepted with her simple statement.

Wendy was a pretty smart girl in my class. I held my own as well, but still we were different. Wendy’s comment came back to me this afternoon because of a question I had. In sharing my question with a friend, I was able to understand an answer I’d already been given. I simply needed my friend to help me connect the dots.

As fun as that revelation was, my greater joy came from contemplating my freckles. I don’t look like anyone else. Every freckle I have is strategically different from any other. Still, I need my friends who help me connect the dots for how I am loved.

It’s been difficult the last couple days to help people by taking them where they don’t want to go. My mind’s logic challenges the wisdom of my heart. Tender mercies and compassion are my only weapons. I have no solutions of myself. As I listen to their stories my emotions are put to the test. They don’t need my tears. They have enough of their own. I hold them in check.

Driving away I look in my rear-view mirror to check my eyes. What do people see in these eyes when they’ve been talking to me? Do they see love? Do they see mercy? Do they see compassion? My eyes fill with tears. I am safe to let go of them now. These tears are special, meant just for my Father. He collects them from me.

I have looked into faces of desperation this week and looking back at me were people who have no voice. Homeless, crippled, addicted, wounded, poor and needy. Each of them are starving for hope and love, but also practical assistance. In all, there is an underlying sense of anger. The anger is often times aimed at specific people but the real target is injustice.

As I walk toward any of these muted ones, I find complete lack in myself. I don’t have enough money, enough resources, enough time, enough energy or even enough patience. What I do have is wisdom to draw all of these things directly from my heavenly Father. He alone is the provider.

Psa 82:3-4  Defend the poor and fatherless; Do justice to the afflicted and needy. Deliver the poor and needy; Free them from the hand of the wicked

She asked me to sit down for a minute. With great love she was honest to speak to me in a language I would relate to. I couldn’t remember her exact words, but it was something along the lines of….”You’re freaking out!” I obediently stilled myself to let her pray for me. Every word spoke truth into the depths of my heart and soul. My spirit agreed that I should be calmed.

Prevailing heads. We need them when we are trying so hard to make sense of the things we can’t.

1 Peter 3:8 Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble

I stood under the pavilion in the deserted park, enjoying the early morning alone. As I looked up into its apex my eyes were drawn to the lower portions where I began to see nests. I walked the perimeter and guessed there to be about a dozen or more. Feeling both happy but wanting for more, I pulled my book out of my backpack to sit for a while.

Psalm 84:1-4  How lovely is Your tabernacle, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, yes, even faints for the courts of the Lord; My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young-Even Your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in Your house; they will still be praising You.

“Gypsies, tramps and thieves…papa would do whatever he could, preach a little gospel…” * Only a song right?

When I sought the definition of gypsy I was shown “itinerant: a laborer who moves from place to place as demanded by employment”. I had never put it together before, but I was reminded of the migrant workers who seasonally came and went in the tiny town where I grew up. We called them “olive pickers”. Looking at our nation today, we have gypsies everywhere. Mostly these people groups are of foreign origin and not legally documented. They often follow the crops for harvests.

Tramps by definition were more diverse than my mindset really. Those who would take an excursion to such a degree they’d leave all, just to traverse the country. Of course there was the familiar; sexually promiscuous women often referred to as prostitutes, whether selling themselves or giving themselves freely to men. Anyone remember a name Mary?

Thieve was more black and white in understanding. They stole!

All are labels placed on people two thousand years ago and even today. Yesterday and today, Jesus paid for all.

1Ki 8:41  And don’t forget the foreigner who is not a member of your people Israel but has come from a far country because of your reputation.

Luk 8:2  There were also some women in their company who had been healed of various evil afflictions and illnesses: Mary, the one called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out;

Mat 27:38  Two robbers were crucified with him, one on his right and one on his left.

Luk 23:39-43  One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!” But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus answered him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Gypsies, tramps and thieves are the very one’s sought after by Christ. We see them everyday, so let’s love them like Jesus loved them. We don’t need to preach the gospel, we simply need to live the gospel and it will preach itself.

* Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves by Cher