From The Sheep Pen

When my heart was embittered and I was pierced within. Psalm 73:21

Recently during our ladies’ bi-monthly coffee meeting (aptly named Grounds for Improvement) the topic was “Bitter Pills to Swallow.” Swallowing a bitter pill metaphorically means that we’re going through an unpleasant experience and it’s like having to ingest something which tastes like bile, is difficult to swallow and too often gets stuck in our throat.There’s nothing to do except get that dang thing down with a little water.

It refers to those times when life isn’t sweetness and light, but suddenly becomes like a tiny, chafing, irritating pebble inside your shoe which you discover only after you walk about. It can’t be ignored and has too be removed immediately. If not, the irritant can easily become blistered and infected.

We all have had bitter pills to swallow. Dreams are crushed, promises are broken, children go off the rails, health is one annoying ailment after another, a loved one dies and you’re left unmoored with stacks of bills or forms to fill out. The bitterness comes because life suddenly isn’t how you hoped it would be, your faith struggles and is tested , and love …? Well , it’s hard to love when your mouth is full of bitterness.

I identified with the discussion because that morning I’d taken my stash of pills (keeping me stroke- free) , swallowed the handful with water, but one pill didn’t go down with the rest.  It lingered like gall in my mouth and the nasty taste remained even after I’d swallowed it. The funny thing is that this pill was the tiniest of all of them – a 2.5 mg blood pressure medication. It’s so small – and yet so potent. It can save my life, but when stuck on my tongue it is bitterness itself. It feels like poison, not life-saving medicine.

Jesus said that we would have trials: some as small as pebbles in our sandals, others crushing, loosened boulders. We shouldn’t be surprised that bitter pills are scattered on the paths ahead of us. Jesus promised to help us during every moment, especially during heart aches. He offers the solution to any bitterness which we might carry – forgiveness. I think of His final words as he was nailed to the cross, “Father forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing.” He spoke while experiencing the most bitter pill of all – the weight of our sin and the momentary sense of the Father’s abandonment ! We are to forgive as Jesus did. Always. Peter was told seventy  times seven,  times even if it meant him swallowing his pride each time.

The smallest “pill” of bitter unforgiveness can be the most destructive. Judas betrayed Jesus with a simple kiss. The Bible doesn’t say what turned his heart against Christ, but I can speculate there was a seed of bitterness Judas nurtured, some unrecorded slight, rejection or disappointment which poisoned him. Jesus forgave and went to the cross for Judas, also.

Ephesians 4:31, 32 tells us how to “swallow bitter pills” as disciples of Jesus. .

Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice And be kind to one another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.

When Dan and I relocated to New Meadows in the 1990’s, we eventually found a beautiful lot in a wooded area of the subdivision and built our forever home. We have been blessed for many years in our home and Dan thanked the Lord every day for the privilege. Dan is gone, but I too am thankful for the years we had.

However, a year ago or so, my homeowner’s insurance was cancelled because my house was now designated to be in a “ fire zone” and at risk. I wasn’t given any other options and had about three weeks to find new insurance which my mortgage requires. Thankfully, I did find a company that would insure the house, naturally at much higher premiums. It’s been a year-long process to get that done.

An independent  insurance inspector came to assess the house and property and wrote up a list of compliances which needed to be taken care of, some of which were valid, many of which were not, according to county standards. Some were beauracratic and just plain absurd.. He came and he left without contact information or giving any recourse. Then winter, snow and ice came to stay for six months and this spring, I was suddenly in a crunch to “comply.” Had it not been for my church family and Christian brothers who helped me figure things out, I don’t know what I would have done. Had it not been for Christian sisters who prayed with me through this very stressful season, this story might be very different.

We have allowed the world’s systems to dictate, control, encroach and entangle our lives – because we fear losing something that God has given us to tend. In my case it was my home not being insured if there is a forest fire. Dan and I have lived here surrounded by a forest of trees for 30 years without fear of fire, but suddenly that has changed, not because of the actual danger, but because an unknown person in the chain of insurance command tells me I am in danger. Worse still, several people have told me that nowadays insurance decisions are made by algorithms, not flesh and blood individuals. In other words, some computer generated program has the final word about my home. Certainly it’s the same scenario for other potential disasters where insurance has made itself necessary: automobiles, floods, earthquakes, tornadoes,  health, social services, etc. AI has arrived  but gives absolutely  no assurance for the future of my home.

Whom do I really trust? If I trusted God to keep us safe all those years, why now do I falter in my trust? Does God change? As the Apostle Paul would say, certainly not! God desires obedience and trust, not compliance and fear. Psalm 27 directs me to seek God as the source of all assurance, mercy and grace. His Holy Spirit is the best insurance coverage I will ever need.

The Lord is my light and my salvation;
Whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the strength of my life;
Of whom shall I be afraid?

What are you discussing together as you   walk along? Luke 24:17

Easter was several weeks ago but it seems much longer ago, even months. Spring is here in the mountains with blustery winds and still quite cool night-time temperatures. April showers and May flowers, as the saying goes, don’t necessarily follow the order of the calendar. Liturgically, the Church moves into the season of Pentecost as believers anticipate the Holy Spirit’s outpouring on all flesh as prophesied by Joel and promised by Jesus for His disciples.

I, however, am still caught up in the Easter events because Jesus’ Resurrection is our ongoing story and eternal salvation. My mind can’t fully comprehend the glory  of Jesus’ death. resurrection and ascension to heaven. By faith, I know He ascended to the right Hand of the Father with all power and authority to rule the heavens and the earth. It is enough for me right now to simply believe, not analyze mysteries of the divine Kingdom with  my limited understanding.

God’s Word has drawn me back repeatedly into Luke’s post-resurrection account of two disciples meeting the risen Jesus on the Road to Emmaus. It is Sunday and they are leaving Jerusalem after the violence of the crucifixion. They are tired, disappointed, discouraged and afraid. They were quietly discussing Jesus’ death and how He wasn’t the Messiah they’d hoped for. They simply want to go home to Emmaus and normalcy. With each step, they leave Jerusalem – and their hope for liberation – behind them. Jesus enters their conversation on the road and then illuminates all of prophecy and the Scriptures. He opens the eyes of their hearts to what happened in Jerusalem, and why. Jesus draws them back toward Himself with great gentleness and even gives some rabbi-like chiding for their lack of faith. After breaking bread with them in Emmaus, He disappears from their midst. Jesus knew exactly what these two disciples needed to restore their faith in Him. They needed Him!

Amazingly, the two disciples “got up at once and returned to Jerusalem” the same Sunday night. The day was almost gone, it was seven miles back to Jerusalem and it would be their second trip of the day. They’re longer tired, depressed and afraid, but now with hearts on fire as Jesus spoke with them on the road. They return to the Eleven disciples to share their exciting news. Luke doesn’t say, but I imagine that these two disciples remained with the others in prayer and fasting until the Promise came.

There are seasons when we Christians find ourselves walking away from a type of Jerusalem on the Emmaus Road. Sometimes, I’m filled with disappointments that my life or calling or ministry or family or church isn’t what I was expecting. I’ve become disillusioned with outcomes, anxious about “what’s next” and question God’s purposes for me. The road leading away from Jerusalem beckons me like a crooked finger to whatever is familiar and safe.

The problem is that when we walk away from “our pain filled Jerusalem “ we also walk away from the cross of Jesus who commanded us to follow Him daily. If I find myself on any road where the cross of Christ is overshadowed by flesh or the devil, may God’s grace, and an angel or two, turn me around again to go back.

The two disciples did not return to their brethren in their former hopeless mind- sets. Their hearts burned because they had encountered the One, the Messiah for whom they’d been waiting and longing. And Jesus changed everything for them in that seven mile walk.

We  never return to the same life we left or to the Jerusalem we knew before. The road trip  is always transformative.  We go back to living   either as victims or conquerors. I believe that whenever we choose to return to Jerusalem, to whatever, whenever and wherever Jesus says, “follow Me”,we can come back with renewed vision, illuminated minds, divine strength and spiritual clarity because Jesus has been with us on the road and speaks to us. The Holy Spirit awaits our return with new fire.

Jesus came, the doors being shut, and stood and stood in the midst and said ‘Peace to you.’ John 20:26

It’s the day after Easter and the world is going about its business as usual. It’s the day after the most momentous, mysterious and memorable day in history and already on the back burner of the public’s interest. Jesus’ death on Friday and Sunday Resurrection which flipped history upside down 2,000 years ago is relegated to a long weekend on the calendar. Pagans are ready to move on into the next season of Mondays. And what of believers? How long do we hold onto Jesus’ Resurrection as the pivotal moment of existence?

In the Bible, we’re told a great deal about the events of Friday and Sunday: Jesus’ torture and crucifixion; the disciples’ fear and abandonment; John’s recording of Jesus’ Words on the cross; Jesus’ body being taken down, wrapped and placed in Joseph of Arimethea’s personal tomb. Saturday is the day of silence and seemingly lost hope. It is a great pause in the salvation plan of God. Then comes Sunday morning , a divine eruption, a tsunami of heavenly events involving angels and humans, Jews and the Romans, rulers and authorities -and significantly – Jesus’ disciples. After Mary, Peter and John ( in separate Gospel accounts) saw Jesus’ now empty tomb, they witnessed to the other disciples: He is risen from the dead. And what was the others’ initial reaction to such an amazing report? Jubilation that Jesus lives? That their friend and teacher hadn’t abandoned them? That Messiah did come? Nope. They were terrified.

The Bible says in John that on the same Sunday, the disciples were together in a room behind a shut door because they feared the Jews. Jesus appeared, calmed them with His Presence. and offered them Peace, their reconciliation with the Father. He showed His crucifixion scars so as to physically prove He rose from the dead. Those nail and spear scars represented all humanity’s sins which Isaiah foretold the Messiah would bear on the cross. We are forgiven and healed but we have to acknowledge at what cost, His scars.
Jesus breathed on them, and commissioned them. He gave them Holy Spirit power to forgive sins just as He forgave them.

Initially, the disciples were glad to see Jesus, but a week later they were shut in again this time with Thomas who had been absent before. The door was locked. again. They were still afraid . Even after Jesus had been in their midst, the disciples were scattered and unsure. They hadn’t yet received the Pentecostal fire of the Holy Spirit after Jesus’ ascension to the Father. They were experiencing The Monday After… Despite all the evidence, despite Jesus being in their midst through locked doors twice, despite His Words and very breath upon them, they were still afraid and powerless to move on with Him – until the Holy Spirit came. Until Jesus left His disciples to be with the Father they would not understand.

Unlike the disciples who were in caught up in the events, we have greater knowledge of Sunday and the weeks following. We’ve been given the Holy Spirit, we know the ending and have had centuries of God’s Word to help us understand the Resurrection. Yes, the disciples were confused about what was happening and they feared the Jews. For a time they needed Jesus’ physical assurance that He was in their midst. They did not knowhow things would turn out for them.

We do. And yet it’s the Monday after Easter and we forget so quickly. My faith can falter. Just 24 hours after the Resurrection the world wants me to shut myself in and lock the door against Jesus. They forget that the Lord can walk through any door, especially locked up hearts. The power of the Resurrection does not end on Monday morning. It’s an eternal beginning.

The kiss of the sun for pardon…

I couldn’t help it. The pack of cheerful, bright pansies were exactly what I needed for late winter doldrums. Of course, they enticed me in Boise where spring is well under way, flowering trees are in early bloom and back-yard gardens everywhere have awakened. I brought the pansies home and the next day planted them in the once-upon-a-time fountain outside my kitchen window. Digging in the dirt raised my spirits. I was happy. A small decorative stone by the fountain says it all: “One is nearer to God’s heart in a garden, than anywhere else on earth.” The words are from a lovely old poem by Dorothy Frances Gurney and like her, I find joy in gardens, especially my own. When I dig and plant and water, when I see the seedlings emerge, grow and become fruit, who else but the Creator can bring so much new life into mine.

In Genesis on the Third Day, God spoke and the earth brought forth seeds and grass and herbs, everything according to its own kind and He saw that it was good. The Master Gardener had designed a special garden for His children Adam and Eve, to dwell with Him, to walk and talk with Him in the cool of the evenings. All they had to do was obey one simple command: Do not eat from that tree. It was not a forced command for God gave humans free will to choose to obey or not. We know the rest of the story: Satan slithered in, they disobeyed God, sin entered mankind and Paradise was lost to them. Metaphorically, it became the Garden of Rebellion. Ever since humanity lives on the earth as rebels, separated from God . Because of sin which we bear, we also are barred from Eden.
Therefore the LORD God banished him from the Garden of Eden to work the ground from which he had been taken. Gen:3:23

Then the Lord then placed a warrior cherubim east of Eden with a flaming sword to keep fallen humans out!

It is Holy Week and we can celebrate that our Garden story isn’t over.God had a plan all along and the plan was Jesus, the perfect Lamb of God who perfectly obeyed His Father in all things.. It is in the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus praying desperately to the point of sweating blood and fully knowing the death ahead, submitted to His Father’s will. He said yes to death on a Roman cross to atone for us sinners and restore us to the Father. In Gethsemane Judas betrayed Jesus; the disciples fled Him there; and the crowd came with violence, but it is metaphorically the Garden of Surrender. Jesus’. For us. This second and parallel Biblical Garden was replanted with His blood. Jesus’ “Yes” is our re-entry into the Garden of Reconciliation with our Creator.

I recall another old hymn “The Garden” by Charles Miles 1913.(Yes, I love the old songs!)

I come to the garden alone,
/While the dew is still on the roses;
/And the voice I hear, falling on my ear,/The Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,/
And He tells me I am His own,
/And the joy we share as we tarry there,
/None other has ever known.

How grateful I am this Holy Week for the Savior’s gift of eternal life. I can tarry in the Father, Son and Holy Spirit – as in a Garden- forever planting spring flowers. Maybe even pansies with their quirky upturned faces.