HOLY BOLDNESS

Today is National Religious Freedom Day. 

I don't know what that means to you, but it doesn't mean much to the Muslim jihadists who murdered 13 Nigerian Christians a few days ago. 

Did you know that at least 16,000 Christians have been killed in Nigeria in the last five years? Or that worldwide, Christians are martyred at a rate of approximately 90,000 per year? 

Hundreds of thousands of believers who share our faith, but not our freedom. 

And yet, the community of Believers in oppressed countries continues to grow while researchers tell us that Christianity is on the decline in America. 

According to a recent survey by the Pew Research Center, America is experiencing an ever increasing generational gap among those who claim to be Christians, with 84% of those born between 1928-1945, 76% of Baby Boomers, and only 49% of Millennials.

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In 2019, my Word of the Year was Humility. I asked Jesus to help me be a better servant... less of me... more of Him. 

Y'all. Do not EVER ask God to cause you to be more humble if you aren't ready for a soul-shaping smackdown worthy of the WWE. Suffice it to say that I am officially, fully, completely convicted of EXACTLY how much grace and mercy I need from God. 

ALL of it. I need every single drop. 

Halfway into January, I'm still finding whiffs of smoke from the refining fires of 2019. 

I ain't stupid.  I learned my lesson and without one ounce of shame, I had NO plans to choose a 'word' for 2020.

Silly me. 

There I was, minding my own business, bringing in the New Year with a study of Revelation. (Cause nothing says “Happy New Year!” like cracking open the chapters of Armageddon, amiright?) 

God didn't dilly dally around.  He started working on me around the second chapter... Revelation 2:8-11, to be exact.  

I began reading the apocalyptic letter to the Church in Smryna, where Jesus acknowledges the good works of the congregation and encourages them to remain strong and faithful – even through tribulation and death. The first century Christians of Smryna were not only being persecuted by Romans, they were also opposed by a large population of Jewish zealots. 

Curiosity about the persecution led me to a remarkable story about a martyr named Polycarp who was killed about 60 years after John the Apostle wrote the Book of Revelation.

In fact, Polycarp was traditionally believed to have been John's student. At 86 years old, he was a revered leader of the church in Smyrna. Upon learning the Romans were coming to arrest him, Polycarp's friends took him to the country to hide him. One night while praying, Polycarp had a vision that his pillow was on fire. He calmly told his friends that he was destined to be burned at the stake. Three days later, the soldiers found him and led him back to Smyrna straight into an arena filled with blood-thirsty Romans and Jews.  They had come for the sport of watching Christians being tortured and killed. 

The proconsul earnestly tried to get Polycarp to deny Christ and declare Caesar as lord. “Have respect for your old age, swear by the fortune of Caesar. Reproach Christ, and I will set you free.” Without wavering, Polycarp answered, “86 years have I have served him and he has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King and my Savior?” It just so happened that the stadium lions had been put away for the day, so the proconsul threatened to burn Polycarp. His reply? “You threaten me with fire which burns for an hour, and is then extinguished, but you know nothing of the fire of the coming judgment and eternal punishment, reserved for the ungodly. Why are you waiting? Bring on whatever you want.” 

As they tied his hands to a stake surrounded by a great pile of wood, Polycarp raised his eyes to heaven and said this beautiful martyr's prayer: 

“O Lord God Almighty, the Father of your beloved and blessed Son Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the knowledge of you, the God of angels, powers and every creature, and of all the righteous who live before you, I give you thanks that you count me worthy to be numbered among your martyrs, sharing the cup of Christ and the resurrection to eternal life, both of soul and body, through the immortality of the Holy Spirit. May I be received this day as an acceptable sacrifice, as you, the true God, have predestined, revealed to me, and now fulfilled. I praise you for all these things, I bless you and glorify you, along with the everlasting Jesus Christ, your beloved Son. To you, with him, through the Holy Ghost, be glory both now and forever. Amen.” 

The fire was lit to blazing. And then... a miracle happened. 

As the great tower of fire arose, flames began to arch away from Polycarp's body. Instead of burning, his skin turned golden and those around him smelled a sweet scent. When the soldiers saw that the fire would not consume him, an executioner was commanded to slay him with a spear. As his flesh was pierced, blood poured from Polycarp's body and extinguished the fire.  A dove was seen flying up from the smoke into heaven. 

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BOLDNESS.

That's my Word of The Year for 2020.

The kind of boldness that the Apostles prayed for on the Day of Pentecost and was given to them through the Holy Spirit. 

The kind of boldness that glorifies God even unto death. 

Holy Boldness. 

Now, I'm pretty sure God isn't gonna ask me to die as a martyr. But it's no coincidence that after teaching me true humility, He is calling me to be bold. He's pretty tricky, that way. 

Without HUMILITY, I would have tried to be bold on my own. I know I would, I've seen me do it. And it didn't go well, because that's not how spiritual boldness works. 

Holy Boldness can only come from God - through humility - for the work of His Kingdom. I am weak. HE is strong. 

I have no idea what He's got planned for me in 2020... but I know it's gonna be good. Because there has never been a better time to boldly, unapologetically declare Jesus as our Lord and Savior. 

WHAT DOES IT MATTER?

What really matters to you? What brings you joy?

Even when you're afraid, or when someone has hurt your feelings really bad... what is the one thing you can think about that will always make you happy again?

In the Bible, the Apostle Paul had one thing that absolutely mattered the most to him. Do you know what it was? God was his Number One Priority and teaching others about Jesus made him super happy.

That's easy to understand, until you look at some of the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad things that Paul suffered because of his teaching. Here's just a few:

• He was in and out of prison for 4 years
• He beaten with rods 3 times
• He received 39 lashes with a whip 5 different times
• He was stoned and left for dead
• He was shipwrecked at sea 3 times
• He was in constant danger from both Jews and Gentiles
• He was often weary and in pain
• He went days without sleep
• He was hungry and thirsty, cold and naked

Paul had it rough. All the time he was preaching, Paul had lots and lots of reasons to be unhappy or feel sorry for himself.

During one of the times Paul was in prison, some preachers who were jealous of him started saying bad things about him, criticizing him, trying to ruin his reputation and his ministry. When Paul found out about it, what do you think he did? What would you do?

When people are mean or criticize us we either get mad and defend ourselves or maybe we just feel sad and give up.

But not Paul!

After all he had been through – chained and in prison – he said “What Does It Matter? I'm not gonna let anybody steal my joy! You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna rejoice and then I'm gonna just keep on rejoicing!”

He rejoiced! With all the horrible stuff happening to him, Paul still found a reason to be joyful. His focus was never on himself... it was on Jesus. What did it matter if he was in prison? He was still free to worship God and spread the Good News. What did it matter if others criticized him and spread rumors about him? His priority was to make God happy. Paul lived to fulfill God's purpose for his life.

No one on earth could steal his joy because Paul's joy came from Heaven.

[Philippians 12-26 (NIV)]

The Light of the Father

THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS PAST...

It's been almost two years since my mother-in-law found her way to heaven. We are finally cleaning out her house and getting it ready to sell. As you might imagine, our progress is often impeded with random discoveries of long lost treasures which tug on our heartstrings, evoking bittersweet memories. A few weeks before Thanksgiving, the Dickman was upstairs pulling up the old dusty carpet when I stumbled upon a small Mason jar filled with two Zippo lighters and a western belt buckle. Rather than interrupt his progress, I put it away to show him later. Because I'm only a few brain cells away from senility, several days passed before I remembered the jar. I took it to him, putting it in his hands without any explanation or preamble.  Immediately, his eyes grew wide and filled with tears. He opened the jar and shook the contents into his hand.  “Robin, do you know what these are?! My Dad's belt buckle and his lighters...  I haven't seen them in over 50 years!” The contents of that old Mason jar were clearly priceless treasures to the Dickman.

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THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT...

In between the Thanksgiving turkey and pumpkin pie, we were visiting with our son and showed him the jar full of treasures. Lucas took immediate interest in one of the lighters, thoroughly inspecting it while wondering aloud if a new wick and some lighter fluid might bring it back to life. [Now, if you don't know my Lucas, it is important to understand that he is an absolute minimalist and has no interest in collecting 'things'. Not only that, but he also scores depressingly low on the 'Sentimentality Scale'.]  I watched as he turned the lighter over in his hands, imagining his grandfather holding the same lighter so many years ago. Impulsively I asked, “Do you want the lighter Luke? You can have it!” As soon as the words left my mouth, it occurred to me that the lighter was not mine to give. I quickly glanced over at Dickie who was [thankfully!] nodding in agreement. Luke looked at his Dad and said, “If you don't mind I would love to keep it.” It was touching that our son wanted to keep this unlikely link to the past – a connection to the grandfather he never met.

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THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS FUTURE...

A few days after he returned home, Lucas sent this picture to his Dad. Not only had he managed to get that old lighter cleaned up and working again, but he and his family were using it to light their Advent candles. Our son had taken something broken and lovingly restored it to bring a glorifying light to God.

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Sweet friends, I don't have to tell you how broken our world is.  One look at the news, one headline on the internet, one trip through a forgotten neighborhood... that's all it takes to know. Satan has relentlessly filled our world with evil and corruption. Some days it feels like the bad guys are winning.

Today was one of those days. I'm ashamed to say that my heart was full of negativity as I opened my Bible.  My hopeful spirit sought to find comfort in His Word.

And man, was God ever ready for me! Only a few verses into Ephesians and this is what I found:

"... this was His purpose:  that when the time is ripe He will gather us all together from wherever we are - in heaven or in earth - to be with Him in Christ forever."

Wow.  I stand amazed that over two thousand years ago, through the inspired words of an apostle imprisoned and in chains, Jesus gives us hope for today... and for every tomorrow!

God will gather us together into ONE glorious kingdom under ONE sovereign King.  Holy. Incorruptible. Unimpeachable.

And in His perfect time, harmony between Heaven and Earth will once again be restored.

This broken old world has never been more in need of that harmony and unity.

The richness – the fullness – of that promise fills my heart with joy! And you know what's even more exciting? The gathering has already begun.

Can't you feel it... hearts that are yearning for so much more than this world has to offer? Eyes searching desperately for that which is meaningful? The increasing boldness of believers unashamed to declare His salvation in love?

It's happening, y'all. We don't always see it because satan distracts us with discord and division.  He limits our focus and depletes our hope, making us forget the Promises of the Father... His boundless mercy, His unfailing love, His piercing light.  His Perfect Plan.

The prevalent evil  in our world today is temporary. God is already transforming the world in big and small ways... the gathering has begun.

We can help Him, you know.

All it takes is a little dusting, a little polishing, some re-fueling... and God will ignite the Spirit within us with a light that defies a hopeless world and illuminates the darkness around us.

THE SISTERHOOD OF EVER-EXPANDING WAISTLINES

My Fellow Fluffy Females...

Let it be known that on this day, November 6, 2019, ROBIN IN DA HOOD, stood up for all overweight middle-aged women throughout the universe. 

I refused to be weighed at the doctor's office, y'all. 

It wasn't even planned, but as the nurse called my name and I walked closer and closer to those dreaded scales, something in me snapped. As I was silently pondering just how much clothing I could take off without frightening the other patients or getting arrested, I suddenly realized that I AM A GROWN A$$ WOMAN AND I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE.

I stopped dead in my tracks, firmly shook my head and said, "Nah. I don't think so. You weighed me 8 weeks ago and not one thing has changed. And you know what? I just don't need that kind of negativity in my life." 

The sweet, overweight, middle-aged nurse looked at me in surprise... then her face slowly broke into a smile as she nodded back at me, eyes sparkling in admiration.

One small step for the Sisterhood of Ever-Expanding Waistlines... one giant leap against Doctor's Scale Harassment.

CLAY POTS...

When I was in Israel last year, it was common to see potsherds (broken pieces of pottery) scattered among many of the ancient ruins.  They are so numerous, in fact, as to not be valued or protected.  Even so, I squealed with the glee of a tipsy paleontologist with each shard sighting.  It was endlessly fascinating to see glimpses of a culture which had survived centuries. I couldn't help but wonder how the pottery had been used or what treasure it may have contained.

The pieces of earthenware reminded me of Paul's words in II Corinthians, where he refers to our mortal bodies as mere “clay pots” that hold immeasurable treasure. 

Clay pots are temporary --- easily cracked and broken. Who would be crazy enough to put valuable treasure in such a fragile container? 

God. He's crazy enough to fill these temporary bodies of ours with an eternal light that reflects the Glory of Christ.

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As I  pulled into the driveway  of  the modest country home, I'll admit that  my therapy bag was filled with low expectations.   The agency nurse had  informed  me that my patient  -  an old rancher  -  was critically ill.    He had been diagnosed with  cancer  earlier in the year and the treacherous disease had recently begun to severely impact his function.  Although he was a candidate for Hospice care, he had politely declined and requested physical therapy, instead. 

His sweet wife met me at the door and led me back to their bedroom. There he was... a tiny emaciated man sleeping quietly in his recliner. He was so still and pale, my first concern was that he had stopped breathing. Hearing our chatter, he slowly turned his head. As his gaze searched mine, I smiled into a pair of beautiful, soulful gray eyes that instantly told me more than any documented health history could ever discern. Without a doubt, those eyes were weary. But instead of defeat, a bright fighting light of hope shone through. 

It took quite a while to complete the evaluation, as we had to stop and rest after every few minutes of activity. During the breaks, I began to ask about his life. As he slowly opened up, his beautiful eyes grew ever more brilliant, twinkling with humor and spirit that mocked the fragility of his cancer-ravaged body. 

As I listened, I glanced over at his wife who was sitting quietly in a corner of the room. She was watching over her husband intently with an expression of innate concern mixed with overt exhaustion. Clearly, her mind fought a truth that her heart wasn't ready to accept. I was filled with compassion for this Wife turned Watchman, Companion turned Caregiver. I wondered at their story... at the layers of years and memories which had culminated in these last difficult months. It was humbling to witness the tangible love and unwavering devotion between them. 

However sweet the moment, I knew this precious man was not a good candidate for therapy. So, I straightened my spine, put on my Official PT expression and forced myself to be professional. Or at least, realistic. 

“Sir, are you sure you will be able to participate in scheduled physical therapy? I assure you, there are other options that might make you more comfortable, right now.” 

His head popped up and he said in a firm, confident voice, “I can't wait. I'm gonna get stronger. Y'all are gonna help me.” 

Oh, man.  

I am not licensed to offer false hope. Miracles are beyond my Scope of Practice. 

But you know what? I'm really good friends with a Great Physician. One who specializes in Hope and Miracles. And I would never want to get in the way of His Healing Power. 

I looked that tired, feeble man straight in the eye and said, “Alrighty, cowboy... buckle up!” 

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"But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this 

all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.  

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; 

perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; 

struck down, but not destroyed."

Isn't it freaking amazing that even while death is at work within us, the light of Jesus shines brighter and brighter through the cracks of our pitiful pots of clay?  

God never said these temporary bodies of ours wouldn't suffer.  Instead, He promised to give us strength to persevere.

Hard pressed...

Perplexed...

Persecuted...

Struck down...  

But not destroyed.  Because it's all about the treasure.

MISSING THE TARGET

I'm in the middle of a Messianic Jewish Bible study called “HaYesod” (Hebrew for “the foundation”). Just as the Bible is the foundation of our faith, the foundation of the Bible is the Torah. It is in this collection of the first five books of the Bible that Moses provides us with God's standards for righteous living, including the Ten Commandments. 

I learned that the word “Torah” comes from a Hebrew root word which is basically an archery term meaning to “take aim or shoot”, as in shooting an arrow to hit the mark. 

The opposite of “Torah” is “Chata” which means: “to miss” as in to miss the target or miss the mark. Chata is the Hebrew word most commonly translated as “sin” throughout the Bible – used almost 200 times in the Old Testament. 

In Judges 20:16, a group of 700 men from the tribe of Benjamin (all left-handed) are described as being so accurate with their slings that “everyone could sling stones at a hair breadth and not miss”. 

And in Romans 3:23, Paul uses the same word when he tell us that “all have sinned and fall short of the mark”. 

ALL have missed the mark. 

The Torah leads us to our mark, our target: to love God and keep His commandments. 

So why do we keep missing the target? 

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It has been a devastating week for our bloodstained nation. Mass shootings have sadly become a heartbreaking reality within the brokenness of America. 

Shootings have become so commonplace that we have grown quite adept at identifying the root cause of each horrific event. Experts, in fact. Even before the bullet-ridden bodies have been removed from the crime scene, we've already herded our partisan sacred cows into their respective fences. Even before the carnage has been washed away, we are pointing our unstained fingers at the indisputable targets of blame: 

1. A Right Wing White Supremacist 
2. A Left Wing Anarchist 
3. An Illegal Immigrant 
4. A Rogue War Veteran 
5. A Desensitized “Gamer” 
6. A Hypersensitive Cyber-bullying Victim 
7. The Criminal Media 
8. Weak Gun Laws 
9. Not Enough Concealed Carriers 
10. Untreated Mental Illness 
11. Overtreated Mental Illness 
12. Conservative Intolerance 
13. Unlimited Liberal Tolerance 
14. Racism 
15. Bigotry 
16. Prejudice 
17. Unbelievers 
18. Zealots 
19. Poor Parenting 
20. Progressive Schools 
21. Trump 

A never-ending cycle of blame.

But if each of us is pointing to the right target, then why does the violence continue to escalate? Why does the number of murdered innocents climb higher and higher? Why do the divisions within our country grow deeper and deeper? 

Could it be that ALL of us are falling short? Might ALL our pointing fingers be missing the target? 

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As Christians, our target should be the Kingdom of Heaven. To aim for anything else is sin.

Sin as old as mankind. Sin against mankind.

Sin against God.

Cain is still slaying Abel.

LET'S GO, GOD!!!

If you are familiar with Alcoholics Anonymous, you'll recognize the affirmation “Let Go and Let God” as a popular slogan of the 12-step recovery program. After admitting that you are powerless over your disease then believing in a power “greater than yourself”, Step 3 calls for submitting control to your Higher Power. 

But you really don't have to be an alcoholic/addict to know:  letting go can be a heck of a lot scarier than hanging on. 

“Let Go and Let God” has found it's way into theological circles, as well. It is a well-worn phrase that many Christians toss out to one another like a lifeline.  Funny thing about lifelines... you have to swim out and grab hold if you want to be saved. 

Life is a battlefield, y'all. Letting Go and Letting God does not relegate us to a seat on the bleachers as a helpless spectator. Though we must relinquish our will to God, He doesn't expect us to be a passive warrior in the battle of spiritual warfare. 

So, what does He expect? 

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When I was in high school, I dabbled in athletics. I say 'dabbled', because I had zero aspirations of becoming a top athlete. I had the endurance of a slug and I was way more interested in looking cute in my uniform than in pulling a hammie. But to everyone's surprise, Coach Webb put me on the 440 relay team during my junior year. I was – without question - the weakest link, evidenced by the fact that Coach never quite knew where to put me.  He moved me from the first leg of the relay because I couldn't seem to figure out how to crouch AND hold a baton AND still look cute. I definitely wasn't a strong enough runner for the the last leg, so Coach ended up bouncing me back and forth between the second and third legs. The problem then was that I had to both RECEIVE and PASS the baton. I wasn't too bad at receiving but I really sucked at passing.  I was afraid to let go. I knew if the baton was dropped, my team would be disqualified and it would be my fault. I could never seem to reach the precise moment of faith that my teammate had full control of the baton.  It was a serious dilemma that led to a very short relay career. 

Ceding control is hard. Passing the baton takes a lot of faith. 

Unless you are Jehoshaphat. 

Remember King Jehoshaphat in the Old Testament? He was one of the Good Kings whose “heart was devoted to the ways of the Lord”. Because he turned the idol-worshipping Jews back to the Lord, he was blessed with great wealth and honor. Then, one day Jehoshaphat heard that a vast alliance of three armies was marching toward Judah to destroy him. The exact words of warning to Jehoshaphat were, “Dude!  There's a HUGE army coming straight for YOU!”. Yikes. 

I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure my first instinct would be to turn around and run! Call 911! Alert the Space Force!! 

Not Jehoshaphat. Although the Bible tells us he was “alarmed”, the first thing Jehoshaphat did was to call for a prayer meeting and nationwide fasting... EVEN WHILE THE ENEMY WAS ON THE WAY!!!

King Jehoshaphat gathered all the people of Judah together and led them in a beautiful prayer.  He cried out to God in distress, admitting that they were powerless against the enemy and didn't know what to do. He ended his prayer with these powerful words, “...but OUR EYES ARE ON YOU”. 

You know what God did? He said, “Hey y'all … don't let that big ol' army scare you. THIS BATTLE IS MINE."

Essentially, God told the people of Judah to let go of the baton and pass it to Him. 

He promised they would not have to fight, but that they should prepare to march against the enemy, take up their positions and stand firm. 

Stand firm in FAITH. 

The next day, Jehoshaphat met with his people for a pep rally.  He got them all pumped up, and then he did the craziest thing ever in all the annals of war strategy:  Jehoshaphat  moved the choir to the front of the army and told them to praise God with all their might. 

I bet there were more than a few twinges of anxiety among the altos and tenors. But once they started singing, their fear dissolved into faith and their collective strength grew in unison with their voices as they praised God in song.  Can't you just imagine the beautiful praise growing louder and louder as they marched toward the battlefield of En Gedi?   Voices became weapons.  Songs of worship became a radical act of warfare. 

So much for the element of surprise, huh? 

It didn't matter, because when Jehoshaphat and his people came within view of the battlefield, all they could see was a desert full of dead bodies.

God had turned their enemies upon each other and all of them were destroyed. Hundreds upon hundreds of corpses. NO ONE HAD ESCAPED.

War ain't no joke.  It's real and it's happening now, all around us... the omnipresent battle of Good vs. Evil. You may not always be aware of it, but it's always there. And on those days when we feel overpowered and outnumbered, when we're not ready for battle and filled with despair at the strength of our enemy, we must never forget... THE BATTLE BELONGS TO THE LORD.

Let Go.  Admit to God that you are powerless against the enemy. 

Then, Let's Go! Get your butt off the bleachers, cast your eyes toward Him in faith and let's join our voices together in mighty weapons of praise and worship...  LET'S GO, GOD!