As I leaned into the wall by the patio door, I was only looking for a moment to breathe between breakfast and the day. My daughter, Eden, was born with Down syndrome a year earlier. As difficult as Down syndrome had seemed in the hospital, the reality of Eden’s medical needs was more overwhelming than I had imagined. I was weary in soul and body—weary of waiting rooms and surgeries, weary of loneliness and busyness, weary of well-intentioned but insensitive words from others. And I was deeply sad.Read More Post a comment (8)
I hope that I’ll never forget a phone call I received several years ago on a Saturday morning.
“Fil, this is Eric’s mom. Can you tell me what happened to him? He’s not the same person!”
“I’m not certain I know what you’re referring to,” I replied.
“Ever since he came home from that camp, Eric’s been a different person. He’s so happy and pleasant to be around. Whatever happened, his dad and I are utterly amazed and we want to thank you.”Read More Post a comment (4)
It was a season rich with symbolism. A path I’d followed, clearly at God’s leading, which had stopped abruptly in a dark woods. An orbit which held me fast in its gravitational pull. A complex maze which only God could lead me out of.
My struggle revolved around a vocational conundrum. I’d endured five years of searching, wrestling, initiating and waiting without discovering a path to freedom.Read More Post a comment (2)
On reading the theme for this month’s blog, ‘resurrection moments’, resistance spontaneously rises; a wincing from deep within causes me to internally recoil. As I consider this reaction, I think it flows from a tendency I see in many Christians to view following Christ as a carefree stroll down the yellow brick road, rather than an arduous trek along the via Dolorosa (way of suffering or way of grief). This combines with two other thoughts that simultaneous float into my mind as I read the words ‘resurrection moments’: 1) there is no resurrection without a crucifixion, 2) we as Christians tend to jump to the ultimate, while minimizing or completely disregarding the penultimate. These ingredients mixed together create an inner aversion for me to the words ‘resurrection moments.’Read More Post a comment (7)
Years ago, a gift was taken away from me. It was a God-given gift but I was worshiping the gift and not the Giver. So God took it away.
I am a church musician. I have a Masters in Church Music and Organ and have worked as a church musician since I was 12 years old. From the womb, I believe, music and faith have been intricately intertwined for me. I could sing the liturgy from memory when I was 5 years old. I loved practicing for hours, first the piano, then the organ, violin, harpsichord, and recorder. I sang in church and school choirs from early on.
But the gift is never more important than the Giver. So in my early twenties, God took it away. It wasn’t like I forgot where middle C was or couldn’t sing on key any more, but, I couldn’t play the organ. Practicing didn’t help. My hands and feet lost their coordination. It is hard to explain other than to say, the gift was gone.
It was a hard time. A death, a desert, a wilderness. Not fun. Confusing.
Then, one day. It came back. Lightening out-of-the-blue. The gift was handed back to me, a more humbled me, a me who understood Giver vs. gift a tiny bit better.
I stood up in church to share, tentatively, not exactly sure what had happened or why. A dear friend led everyone in singing the Doxology. A resurrection moment.
This was the same friend who had told me the reason I played the organ was it was the only thing bigger than my personality. She saw the resurrection happen before I fully understood it. She was the person outside my Lazarus tomb, who, when I stepped out blinking and unsure, led the “Hallelujah” while unwinding the grave clothes.
I have never forgotten that moment. It has tempered me when I have been tempted to forget the right order: Giver and then the gift.
“I once was lost, but now am found; was blind but now I see.” And play. And rejoice in the Giver, as well as the gift.
Have you lost a gift? What was your response?
Did you receive it back? What changed in that time?
Resurrection hope makes no earthly sense. In fact it often makes little sense to those who claim to have it. When we witness resurrection hope in its unvarnished authenticity, it looks very different from the softer forms of spirituality to which most North Americans are accustomed. Take the prophet Ezekiel for example. The writer of Hebrews surely envisioned Ezekiel as one of an elite group of unnamed faithful leaders who “placed their hope in a better life after the resurrection” (Hebrews 11:35).Read More
“One fall evening, around six o’clock, I was driving back to work for a meeting. Heading north on a country road, my mind lost in some events of the day, I became aware of an obscured light over my left shoulder. About that time, I turned west and was instantly blinded by the source.Read More Post a comment (1)
The month of March finds us in the season of Lent. Traditionally a time of prayer, penitence, repentance, alms-giving and self-denial, Lent culminates in Holy Week, capped by the celebration of Easter on Resurrection Sunday. So why, then, dedicate the month of March to the topic of “Resurrection Moments”? Does that run counter to everything that Lent emphasizes? Well, yes and no. Yes,
On this month’s theme of “Resurrection Moments,” I kept coming back to the idea of new life out of death. That is the nature of resurrection—not resurrection as a historical fact as much as resurrection as a spiritual formation dynamic. Watchman Nee said it like this:
“Everything that is really of value to us, even the work God gives us, and even our knowledge of God’s will, must go through death to resurrection. In resurrection we know it to be something so miraculously of God that we can never again take it possessively into our hands. Resurrection puts it out of our reach.” (Watchman Nee. Changed Into His Likeness. Wheaton: Tyndale House Publishers, 1967, 1978, p. 91)Read More Post a comment (7)
Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. (John 12:24-25)
Resurrection moments are truly a beautiful gift from God. It is in these moments that we truly come alive. We no longer merely talk about the abundant life—we experience the abundant life. God fills our hearts with unspeakable joy and our lips burst forth in song. God’s strength emerges in place of our weakness, and the things that we could not accomplish in our own power suddenly become possible through His power. There’s absolutely nothing like it. The challenge is that these moments of resurrection always follow moments of death. A sacrifice must first be made.