5/11/24
 
The morning before our recent trip to Spain i donated blood.  When i prayed about it, i thought God was saying it was OK to donate.  Initially that proved true; i did fine flying and i was reasonably energetic touring Segovia the following day, when i’d normally be subject to jet lag.  But by Saturday i started coming down with a cold and on Sunday i spent most of the day in bed while the rest of our family had a picnic at a park.
 
i’ve now had that cold for a couple of weeks.  i’m finally on the mend, but it’s been a long haul.  i asked God if donating blood made me more susceptible to catching a cold.  He said yes, it did.  A virus had already been attacking me, but it hadn’t made much progress until i donated blood and subjected myself to the additional stress of protracted travel and jet lag.  If i were twenty-one i might have been able to shrug it off, but at seventy-one it takes my body longer to recover from stress and the virus leveraged all the stress to invade my lungs.
 
Needless to say, i won’t make that mistake again.  i need to lay hold of the wisdom God has given me to steward my health.  He likes that i donate blood and embrace the sacrificial giving it entails, but He is not calling me to compromise my health.  In the present instance i didn’t fully surrender to Him my desire to donate, so i ended up following my desire instead of following Him.  Like any other desire, my desire to give blood can rule my heart if it isn’t fully surrendered to Him.  God is my only true desire and all other desires must yield to Him!

​A couple days ago when Karen and i arrived in Spain for a visit with our family, we all went out for tapas.  At the end of our meal, i went to the restroom and got locked inside when the door handle became dislodged from the deadbolt.  Although it was a small space, with just enough room for a toilet and a sink, it wasn’t tiny.  Yet i panicked and immediately began pounding on the door.  i knew i needed to pray, but i struggled to pray or even think.  Had i been thinking logically, i would have reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and called my wife or son to reach out to the restaurant manager for help.  But instead i just started screaming. 

​Eventually an employee came, but even though i couldn’t see her i realized that she was clueless about what to do because the door was dead-bolted shut, and from the inside at least, there was no obvious way to unlock or dismantle it.  So i realized that i had to get myself out, and i began wiggling the handle until it somehow reengaged with the dead bolt and i was able to unlock and open the door.
 
i’d only been locked inside for a few minutes, but what relief i felt!  Yet i was also troubled that my claustrophobia was worse than i had imagined.  i thought it was only triggered when someone or something pinned down my arms or legs, such as would happen with a straightjacket.  But now i know it can be triggered by any small space in which i’m locked inside, even when my hands and feet are free and i’m able to breathe.
 
If there were any doubts about that, it was confirmed by the tiny elevators we use at our family’s apartment to go between the ground and third floors.  Every time i’ve gotten into either of them, i felt a very strong fear that they might break down or i might not know how to open their doors and would become trapped inside.  So i’ve been confessing my fear to God and asking Him to deliver me from it.  i suspect there’s a stronghold of control involved, so i’ve been praying about that as well.  Perhaps what happened at the restaurant is God’s answer to my many prayers for others, that they would be freed from a similar stronghold, even though they aren’t claustrophobic like i am.  Perhaps God wants to free me from control, in the course of freeing them.
 
“I do,” He said just now, as i was writing this.
 
In the meantime, this episode has helped me appreciate another dimension of what Jesus suffered on the cross.  i didn’t fully appreciate before that His hands and feet were pinned down, and how that might have stricken His flesh with panic, as it definitely would have stricken me.  Now i realize that it wasn’t just the searing pain and shortness of breath that was unbearable for Jesus, but also His inability to move.  i’ve read about that before, but it never sunk in until now.
 
Oh, how severely Jesus was stricken to set me free!  And how wrong it is for me to act like fear’s captive, when Jesus set me free!  Jesus, when You set me free, i became free indeed!  Help me truly believe that in the depths of my soul, and help me not partner with any spirit that conspires to rob me of the freedom You purchased for me at such a horrendous cost.  i do believe, Jesus!  Help me in my unbelief!

Recently while i was cross country skiing, i caught an edge and crashed.  i was cruising down a fairly steep trail, in a section where the snow was slick and hard, and i suddenly got going too fast and hit really hard.  The outside of my left thigh landed on top of my ski pole, and it really hurt.  Fortunately, i didn’t tear or break any part of my body or any piece of my equipment.
 
i’m better today, but the upper part of my left IT band is still really tender.  i looked at my leg several times, thinking i would see a bruise, but there isn’t even the slightest discoloration.  So i thanked God for the bruise that didn’t happen.  And while i was pondering how miraculous that seemed, God confirmed that He was indeed there for me during my crash and helped me not get hurt!
 
That led me to incline my ear toward Him to hear what else He might want to say.
 
“I have given you the ability to see, through what doesn’t happen, Who I Am,” i heard without words.  As i believe that God is working, even when nothing seems to be happening, i will see evidence of how He is protecting and blessing us - all of us - showering us with kindness as He carefully guides how things turn out.  Romans 8:28
 
Immediately i was reminded of many things i’d done while i was a young man that were very foolish, some of them very dangerous, yet bad things hadn’t happened.  “The only difference between you and me,” i’ve said to men in jail on a few occasions, “is that you got caught, but i didn’t.”  Of course, getting caught is also a blessing, as some of them would attest, because it offered them a chance to repent.  As for me, the more i consider how incredibly kind our God is, the more i thank Him for all those times He actively cared for me when i didn’t care at all about Him!
 
Of course, there’s no greater example of the unmerited favor we all enjoy than what Jesus did for us on the cross.  His mercy astounds me, and some of that awe overflowed into our men’s prayer time today.  We prayed for a man who lost his leg last week.  i can’t imagine how hard that must be.  Yet we found something to thank God for - that he’s still alive - and we asked God to meet him where he’s at and turn even his horrible loss into a blessing.  Only God can do something like that!
 
As we were wrapping up, another man turned to me and said, but for the grace of God, the same things that had happened to that man could have happened to him.  Through his comment i saw that God was also leading him to be thankful for many things that haven’t happened.
 
Later in the day i got a text from a friend.
 
Friend: Please pray for me.  I have several blood clots in my right leg
 
me: Oh my!  Praying!!
 
Friend: ❤️
 
me: When you texted me, i was journaling about a man we had prayed for this morning, whose leg was amputated last week.  God led me to thank Him that he is still alive, because he has more time to encounter the Lord.
 
Throughout today, over and over, God has been leading me to thank Him for all sorts of things that haven’t happened, because He has given me eyes to see His hand in those things.  So of course i’m now praising God, that you still have your life and both legs!
 
After all, we worship the One Who couldn’t imagine anything better to do, when He faced five thousand hungry mouths to feed, than to thank His Father for only five loaves and two fish.  Out of Jesus’s amazing heart many incredible miracles arise.  In every circumstance He truly is the source and fulfillment of our hope.
 
Friend:  ❤️❤️❤️
 
After we finished texting, God led me to use our computer to look at the total balance of our retirement accounts today, and last year at this same time.  i was amazed to discover how little our nest egg had dropped, considering the huge amount of money we had to withdraw to repair our cabin after the previous winter’s storms.  Over the last year, God also led us to greatly increase our charitable giving and help someone who had a sizable personal debt.  So i cannot explain how we took so many big hits yet sustained such a minor loss.  Surely it must be God at work, showering us with kindness in the midst of life’s storms.  So i thanked Him again, this time for the nest egg that didn’t get squashed when our cabin did.

Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.  But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when His glory is revealed.  1 Peter 4:12-13
 
This morning during prayer, one of my friends said, “Faith isn’t grown; it’s tested.  It’s like muscle; there has to be resistance for it to get stronger.”
 
Whoa!  That’s so profound, and it explains so much about why God leads us into dark valleys, instead of around them.  And perhaps that’s why, when i’m biking uphill God often equates my faith to the muscles in my thighs.  If i don’t let my thighs do the pedaling, my ride soon becomes really hard and i fall into striving.  Similarly, if i don’t let my faith do the heavy lifting, i fall into striving and Jesus and His Spirit get sidelined.
 
An athlete doesn’t ask, “Why are my thighs burning?” because he knows that what he’s feeling is a sign that his workout is making his body stronger.  Similarly, as believers we shouldn’t ask, “Why is this so hard?”  Instead, we should receive even frustration as a sign that maybe our trials are making our faith stronger.
 
And when things get even tougher, an athlete doesn’t think, “My coach couldn’t have meant for me to go through this; I must have misunderstood him or I must be doing something wrong,”  Similarly, we as Christ-followers shouldn’t think, “What I’m believing for must not be God’s will; I will go another way that feels more comfortable.”
 
An athlete guided only by what feels comfortable or seems reasonable to him might not even finish the race, let alone win the prize.  Similarly a disciple who only walks through open doors is unlikely to encounter the resurrected Christ, Who appears behind closed doors.
 
No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.  Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees.  Hebrews 13:11-12

​During my recent visit to Cambodia i got around by riding in tuktuks, which are trailers pulled by a motorcycle.  i also rode on the back of various people’s motos.  i didn’t try to ride a moto myself (although i could have since i rode motorcycles for fifteen or twenty years here in the States) because the rules of the road are so different in Cambodia.  People often enter traffic without yielding to those already on the road, often turn in front of others and against oncoming traffic, and sometimes ride their motos on the wrong side of the road.  Outside the city limits there aren’t any traffic signs at intersections and so when two busy highways cross it’s a free-for-all.
 
So anyway, like i said, i got a chance to ride on the back of many people’s motos, and they all drove similarly, except one particular friend.  He definitely drove slower and more meekly than everyone else.  One time i also got to ride as a passenger in his car and it was the same thing: he drove slower than everyone else.  So i made a joke of it, using virtually the only Khmer word i knew, muy muy, which doesn’t mean “very, very,” like it does in Spanish, but “very slow.”
 
My friend explained to me that he used to drive fast, which i took to mean the same speed as everyone else, but then he was convicted that he wasn’t leaving room for God to lead him.  So he slowed down and created enough margins around what he was doing so he could attend to God and be led by Him.  i suspect that now applies to many different realms of his life, although at that time he was specifically talking about his driving.
 
“Wow!” i said, “that’s amazing!”
 
i’m writing about it now, because i need to learn that way of living.  It’s something Brother Lawrence also learned, that’s covered in his little book, “Practicing The Presence.”  Brother Lawrence would eat so slowly and intentionally that every bite he placed in his mouth would be guided by the hand of God.
 
Father, i’m hearing You loud and clear.  Teach me Your way to live.  Amen.

4/30/23
 
Our bathroom is a long way from the water heater, so we usually have to run the hot water for a few minutes before we jump in the shower.  But for a little while a year ago, that changed.  Every time i turned on the tap the water it was instantly hot, and it didn’t matter what time of day it was or which faucet i was using.  Kitchen or bathroom, sink or shower, they all ran hot day and night.  There was no earthly explanation for it; we weren’t hosting guests as we often do, who might have run hot water through our pipes without us knowing it, nor was there some sort of leak that might have kept our hot water flowing.
 
Our water and gas bills didn’t change, just the availability of hot water.  And it never seemed to happen with my wife; it only happened with me.  So i asked God what was up, and He said it was a sign about our relationship.  His passion for me runs hot and deep, He said, and He had given me similar passion for Him.  Christ is my passion and He’s always with me; His heart always aflame in mine!
 
i’ve been reluctant to mention that to anyone, for fear they might treat me like Joseph when he got his technicolor dreamcoat.  But i was reminded of what had happened last year when i washed my hands this morning and the tapwater in my bathroom sink ran instantly hot.  Since our son was taking a shower in the bathroom above us at the time, it didn’t seem miraculous like a year ago.  But i’m certain it wasn’t an accident, because Jesus used it to remind me than my devotion to Him is rooted in His devotion to the Father, which overflows with devotion to us!
 
This morning i’m reminded that Jesus’s devotion and mine are rooted in faith.  Although the devotion we share has a lot of passion, it’s a fruit of our dependence and submission.  Jesus’s devotion arises in me as i fix my eyes on Him.
 
i experienced His devotion growing tangibly in me over the past few days.  At our Tuesday morning Bible study, i was convicted that i wasn’t fully abiding in the Father’s heart.  So after i prayed with a friend about that, i had a vivid dream in which Holy Spirit showed me that i was settling for less than Christ.  So i repented and soon thereafter, on Thursday morning, the sweet presence of Christ arose during our men’s prayer time.  Then throughout Friday and Saturday, His lingering presence inspired me to repeatedly ask Him to help me devote myself to Him as fully as He deserves.
 
Time and again His Spirit reminded me of something He first said to me two and a half years ago.  i mustn’t judge whether i’m walking like Jesus, He’d said;  i must entrust myself to Him Who judges justly.  The Father seeks my obedience, not my toil.  If i reduce Christ’s life in me to mere behavior, my walk will be fleshly and i’ll stir fleshliness in others.  But as i abide in the devotion of Christ, His Spirit in me nudges His Spirit to arise in others.
 
Through those reminders Christ’s Spirit inspired me to keep leaning into Him.  i had many opportunities to do that yesterday as i poured into those He’d arranged for me to encourage.
 
In the morning while driving to Reno, i spoke with a brother in the Lord about his his erratic courtship of his girlfriend.  Midday during a fundraising event, i spoke with a sister about her six-year-old grandson and his abusive dad.  In the afternoon over a meal and at a park, another brother told me many stories about his past trauma and present trials.  And last evening at the jail, a group of seventeen men had shared with me Who Jesus is to them and how they’re walking out their faith.  
 
Throughout it all, Holy Spirit had given me an attentive ear and encouraging words which had little to do with me.  The first brother was upbeat, despite his challenges in pursuing his girlfriend.  My sister loved the words God gave me for her, that her grandson is resilient and Christ’s meekness in her is routing strongholds in her family.  The second brother grew more humble and hopeful the more he shared his heart with me.  And at the jail, another strong believer spoke passionately about God’s kindness, righteousness and sovereignty over evil.  Though he only spoke Spanish, God provided translators and the rest of us, Anglos and Latinos alike, were deeply moved by the boldness of his faith.
 
Yet as soon as i got in my car i began wondering if my time in the jail could have been more effective, for God’s kingdom is not a matter of mere words, but of power.  1 Corinthians 4:20  So i surrendered the evening to God and thanked Him for everything that had happened, though i wasn’t really sure how He had moved. The rest of my way home i resisted a barrage of prideful and sexual thoughts as i fought the urge to think that my time at the jail was about me.
 
Later that night i awoke, pondering the last thing that Spanish-speaking brother had said.  He shared a story about a guy who’d lost his hands and had taught himself to play a keyboard with his feet.  When someone had called his worship miraculous, the man without hands had praised God for the other person’s hands.  “Every time you grab a steering wheel, it’s a miracle!” he beamed.  “Do you see it?”
 
It doesn’t take much faith to see how God is moving when He does something blatantly supernatural, in plain sight of many witnesses, like healing a blind man,.  But when God works, as He likes to do, in hidden ways that are less dramatic or straightforward, we often have to believe that He is at work before we’ll recognize how.  But faith is a gift, and God was inviting me to trust Him, that He was at work in and around me, even if i didn’t know how.  So in the middle of the night waves of awe and gratitude swept over me as God spoke to me without words through that story.
 
Suddenly i knew that it had been God Who’d led that Spanish-speaking brother to join us, and God Who had given him that inspiring message to share, because He didn’t want any of us to miss how faithfully He pours His blessings into us, beyond anything we deserve or imagine.  Before i had even asked Him for power, God had moved with power.  In two different meetings within forty-eight hours, He had brought together over a dozen godly men, led our prayers from start to finish, and worked through our dialogue to challenge, convict, teach, forgive and encourage us to pray and believe, with great sensitivity and depth of insight, for life-changing breakthrough in ourselves and those we love.
 
Throughout the week God had repeatedly strengthened me to cultivate my devotion to Christ, and Christ had risen victoriously in me.  Though i was severely tempted, i had turned away from self-indulgent thinking.  By God’s grace i had dodged a bullet that had recently wounded several of my brothers, by keeping my focus on Jesus.  Through it all, God was clearly fulfilling something He had spoken into me, six years earlier:  that as i learn to worship Christ on the cross, i will die to myself and live only for Him, leading every perception into the lovingly attentive harkening of Christ.