Unveiling Hope

Re-gifting

Merriam-Webster defines the noun “gift” as: “something voluntarily transferred by one person to another without compensation”.

Normally, a gift comes from the heart from the one who has it to give. Every once in a while, and I’m sure it’s happened to all of us, we receive a gift that just – well – you know – the gesture was thoughtful and all, but eek! For the most part however, the gifts we are given are a reflection of the giver’s heart for us; the gift can be a tangible or intangible expression of their love for us. Some of these gifts turn out to be family heirlooms that are handed down from generation to generation and while the monetary value of the gift may or not be significant they hold an incalculable, intrinsic value that render them irreplaceable. These are the gifts that cannot and should never be re-gifted.

If you’ve been reading Unveiling Hope for any length of time, you know that there are some things that I am so passionate about I cannot keep my quiet about them. I’ve argued with myself back and forth for weeks about whether to post this. It’s burning inside me. I cannot hold it in any longer.

God promised, to His Chosen People, a land flowing with milk and honey to the descendents of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Under the leadership of Moses, God brought back His people to a land He first gave to Abraham. This was His gift to His People. It belonged to Him and was His to give. Until 1948 most everyone but the Jews failed to recognized Israel as a state, or it’s right to be a state; sixty-one years later it seems little has changed – how tragic.

My heart has been burdened to pray for an impartation of wisdom for the Knesset. In the name of peace, as I too often read, the government continues to consider re-gifting God’s transfer to them. What makes me weep is the fact that Israel’s enemy does not really want their land – they want to be rid of Israel – the Jews – God’s Chosen. If every Jew in Israel moved into the least desired corner of the country and gave the rest up – in the name of peace – as God lives that would be the next parcel of land Israel’s enemies would want.

I pray O Lord, wisdom, courage, understanding, and revelation for the members of the Knesset. I pray for your Truth to be unveiled in the media. I pray for those who claim to be allied with Israel to stand up with a firm spine and not simply speak words of affirmation and encouragement, but to move with action and in prayer for Israel at an international level.

“But if I say ‘I will not mention him or speak anymore in his name,’ his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed I cannot,” Jeremiah 20:9 NIV. 

Nobody Ever Taught Me

When I pray for Israel, I pray also for Israel’s enemies. It’s not easy, especially when you hear about the vile and evil hatred perpetrated against them by the Hamas. Hatred runs deeper than anyone can imagine.

What I love about God is that just when you think there is nothing you can pray that will change the hearts of the enemies of the Apple of His Eye, He manifests His sovereignty and power. Miracles are an everyday thing for Him.

Mosab Hassan Yousef is a young man of 30 years. He was born and raised under the teachings of radical Islam in Ramallah. By his own testimony with Fox News, he tells of his hatred of Jews and Christians. He is candid about his involvement with Islam under the teachings of his father, a political Hamas leader. He is forthcoming about the violence her perpetrated against Jews, both as a child, and as a young man – serving as president of a radical Islamic youth movement.

During his interview, Yousef spoke candidly about time he served at Megiddo prison in Israel, one among many Hamas leaders. In short time he began to see the evil of Hamas and radical Islam. He tells of a walk he took through the streets of Jerusalem one day when he was released. He was invited by a Christian to attend a Bible study; he did just that. Almost immediately, he began to study the Koran and the Holy Bible at the same time and found countless contradictions in the Koran but there was one verse in the Bible that mobilized his need to understand more about Jesus and that verse was, “love your enemies.” During one of six interviews with Fox, Mosab Hassan said, “I had never heard this before . . . nobody ever taught me this.”

The State of Israel is the only nation I have ever heard of who lets their enemies know that they plan to defend themselves if violent, aggressive acts continue against them and calls in advance to let them know. God has taught this to His Chosen Treasure how to love and written it on the tablets of their hearts. If I have learned anything from Israel, from the Jewish people, it is this: it is possible to love your enemies.

“Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,” Matt. 5:44.

Taking a Stand

                                                                                                           

Entering into discussions concerning religion and politics is something I’ve always steered away from. Perhaps there’s been an element of insecurity about my lack of formal education that has kept me quiet, falsely believing that I am not entitled to an opinion because I don’t know everything there is to know about either subject. For the most part however, that’s probably more of an excuse than anything else.

Our lead pastor gave a very interesting talk about people pleasing  at Lifecentre on Sunday. Until his talk, I considered myself a reformed people pleaser. So much for that! If I had to label my behaviour in regard to my silence on those subjects, I’d have to admit that I’m a passive people pleaser. It’s not so much that I’m bent on being liked – who wouldn’t rather be liked than disliked? At the end of the day however, in the grand scheme of things, I don’t give a rip. Not everyone is going to like me. I’ve dealt with that; let’s move on.

Here’s the catch . . . I don’t like conflict – the kind of conflict that tends to evoke hostility or violence - and let’s face it – are there any subjects that evoke hostility and violence more than religion and politics? I doubt it.

Giving the entire subject rational and objective thought (as objective as I can be where I’m concerned), I’ve come to understand that having experienced violence in my life has borne in me a fear to take an unpopular stand. As a result, I have a tendency to remain silent and in “good standing” with others where those topics are concerned. That is people pleasing no matter how you dress it up. I’m not a child anymore.

Silence can be a stamp of approval on what is morally, ethically, and/or spiritually wrong. Saying nothing to maintain the peace can be hurtful. I despise political correctness and hypocrisy, they are blinders that narrow the focus, and now I see that I’ve been wearing these very blinders. Shall I therefore continue to say nothing, ignore what I see, and what I hear, for the sake of not offending? There will always be someone who will be offended by my views on religion and politics – mine and everyone else’s.

The blinders are off; I’m going to grow up now. I’m taking a stand and I’m standing firm.

“By standing firm you will gain life,” Luke 21:19.

Living in a Fishbowl

 Joe was an honest and hard working guy; he was also a sports fanatic to the extreme – not extreme sports – extreme fanaticism. The fact that he had season tickets and wore the team colours to every game wasn’t what distinguished him from the rest of the crowd. What made Joe stand out was a false sense of entitlement or privilege.

After one of the games, Joe wanted to speak with the captain of the team. Once the players emptied the bench, he followed them into the dressing room. With kindness in his heart, the team manager requested that Joe give the players some time to unwind and thanked him for his patronage.

Joe was dismayed but tried not to take the manager’s request as a personal insult. Joe decided however that he simply had to speak with the captain; it was important to the team’s future success. He waited at the exit. He knew the captain’s wife and children would be along to pick him up – it was only a matter of time. Perhaps he’d get a chance then.

The captain’s wife stood outside their vehicle. The children safely belted into their seats – waiting for Daddy to come out so they could enjoy a nice meal together. The captain came out and kissed his beautiful wife as the children became excited watching their father approaching. Joe suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He was used to this kind of thing and so was his wife who decided to wait in the car with their hungry children.

Joe began to tell the captain that his game had been “off” this afternoon and proceeded to give him a little friendly advice. The captain was kind. The fans are important but he had a family waiting for him. He loved his job; hockey was his passion, it was his job. Living and prioritizing his life didn’t mean he was unfaithful to the team or the owner. He didn’t choose his vocation for adulation or to be idolized. Even the most valuable player never plays a perfect game. He politely thanked Joe for his offer and left with his family.

It wasn’t over for Joe. While following the captain and his family to the movie Joe began to stew. He had been paying for season tickets for two decades – at the very least he should have had some liberty to have his say, give his feedback, and make some suggestions where there might have been room for improvement! Why if it wasn’t for guys like Joe, the captain wouldn’t live in his nice big house or drive his nice car. Joe had been a hockey fan since being a toddler. There wasn’t a book written that he hadn’t read. He even coached his own league. . .

I’m ending the story here. Inspired here, I made this story up. Unfortunately there are a few “Joes” in the world. Joes who believe that a pastor should be available 24/7, that pastors need their advice and counsel. There are Joes that think because they tithe, they somehow own shares in the pastor’s belongings, misguided in their thinking - they are tithing to God not the pastor. There are Joes that have a comment or suggestion on every subject under the sun from childrearing to altar calls. Being part of a church community is not an entitlement it’s a responsibility and a blessing.

“As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.” Eph. 4:1-3.

Cerebral Enema

Yesterday, someone overheard bits of a conversation I was having with a friend. This friend knows that I’m a Christian. The conversation crasher made a bold statement: “You people have been brain-washed. You can’t think for yourselves.” I smiled. Not only did he ever know me, but he still doesn’t. “You might want to get to know me better before you pass judgment,” I said.

I ran into him later in the day, rather he ran into me ... I’m pretty sure on purpose. He began to ask me some rather pointed questions, all of which I answered honestly. I asked him what “brainwashed” meant to him. He responded that one is brainwashed when they are indoctrinated, usually by force, into new beliefs that influence them to abandon their old convictions. Hmm.

I thought about what he said for a long minute. I couldn’t help but think about the fact that he seemed to be primed with a well prepared answer. I was not his first. “So?” He asked me.

I smiled again and responded, “Let’s just say that I had a cerebral enema. There was a lot of dirty stuff stuck way up there. Let’s just say that I was constipated in my growth. The thoughts and beliefs I have I embrace by choice because they make more sense and they keep me healthy, happy and growing. You can call it a brainwash if you wish, but you should really get to know me if you want to understand the difference between a cerebral enema and a brainwash.”

I have never felt so unyielding in my convictions in my entire life. Yesterday was a true sign to me that each day is a new day and that my mind is renewed every morning. It reminded me that the Word of God is living inside and working inside me, regardless of the vernacular I use.

“Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect,” 1^st Peter 3:15.

Deprogrammed

Joseph, at Seasons of Change, tagged me with this meme. The purpose is to consider aspects of our culture where we have too easily compromised, issues that you passionately oppose. What would it mean for you, individually or as part of a community, to be living alternatively? Write about it. Link back to this post and invite others to participate. I invite Heidi, Lori, Theresa, Dusty and Jenn.

I was raised by atheist parents who were brought up Catholic. When I was born the words freedom, love, peace and truth were becoming more than just words, they were becoming cultural issues.

I was caught in a confused generation. Freedom was something taken for granted by people living in North America. Love was something you gave everybody you were “with” instead of the one you were meant to be with. Peace was a patch you sewed on your jeans or backpack, everyone had their own truth. “Respectable” people were conservative and everyone else was either a communist or a hippie.

Well past my formative years however, the world began speaking another language, one that is not my mother tongue. The world began speaking a new kind of truth, a translucent truth. This truth is called pc (politically correct).

For about a ten year period of my life, I succumbed to the tainted flavour-of-the-day kind of truth. The culture around me embraced it. I felt pressured – coerced – to accept the new way of sugar coating the truth to the point where I was indoctrinated.

Truth has always been special to me. I’ve spent years of my life seeking it. Almost five years ago I found the truth. I found The Truth; there is but One. I am passionate about knowing the Truth, living the Truth and telling the Truth – exactly the way IT IS WRITTEN. I want to eat it, walk it, talk it, and share it. Because I know it, it has become urgent, imperative, that I not keep it to myself or endeavour to change it in any way.

I’ve lived under the regime of PC so I can speak from experience. There is no freedom, love, or peace, where there is no Truth. I am living in a world where, as a Christian, I am being told to keep my mouth shut more and more, temper my speech, choose my words. I am righteously angry when the words “Charter of Rights and Freedoms” that were written to protect are used to oppress and destroy. I am living in a disenfranchised society of political correctness where the Truth has been crucified a second time.

I know what it’s like to have lived in both worlds. One brings life the other destroys. I take responsibility for the garbage I heaped onto this planet, but I’ve since learned how to preserve life. The truth I speak will be the only Truth there is. It’s going to bring life and not destruction. I may live in the world, but I don’t belong to it. And as long as I’m here pc stands for nothing more than partially correct. I’ve been deprogrammed.

Twice as Much

Imagine this: you’re sitting around the dinner table at a friend’s house. His wife brings out a double fudge lava cake and places it on the table. As she slices into it you ask, “Can I have the biggest piece?” The room goes silent. You feel a pinch under the table. “What? I want more!”

I’d almost bet money that no one, even if that’s what they really, really want, would have the audacity to say it aloud. That’s exactly the type of thing we worry that our kids will do – embarrass us.

Is there something fundamentally wrong with not being satisfied? It’s not polite to ask for second helpings when you’re a guest at someone’s house – let alone ask for the largest portion. But what if that’s REALLY what you want? What if one piece will leave you wanting more? You’ve got to be pretty bold and secure to ask for what you want when your basic needs have already been met.

I marvel at Elisha. He followed Elijah around – even after Elijah told him to stay behind three times. Finally Elijah asked him, “Ask! What may I do for you before I am taken away from you?”

Elisha didn’t miss a beat. “Please, let a double portion of your Spirit be upon me.” Tell us what you really want. He wasn’t embarrassed to ask. He didn’t flinch a bit. And what’s even more astonishing ... neither did Elijah! Why do we? Bad manners are more fulfilling.

Jesus said ask for what you want not ask for what you need. I’m going to do it. I want more wisdom. I want more love. I want more of everything He has to give. What I have is not enough and I’m not going to be embarrassed.

Is there something you want more of?

Drive Thru Communion

Call it righteous indignation, call it a holy discontent, or maybe ICS, (Irritable Christian Syndrome), but I’m getting increasingly annoyed hearing people say, “I’m not being fed at church.” I don’t often go off on a rant, but I can’t hold back any longer. Disagree – you might and you are most certainly welcome to do so – in fact, I invite it. Go ahead, make my day.

When did church become a place to be fed? What is it about some people who fast from the Living Word, the Manna of God, all week long and wonder why their appetites are insatiable on Sunday morning? Has church become the drive-thru restaurant? When did Communion and worship become fast food? Church is community, not a building. Church is a spiritual body, not the principal organ of digestion.

Jesus said we are to feed the hungry. Does a starving person first think to feed another who is starving or do they see that plate filled with food and wonder if they can hoover it down before the other has the chance to even notice it. When we take responsibility for carrying our own loads, i.e. feeding ourselves, we are able to help others with their burdens – i.e. feed them. We become more others-centred when we have a steady and healthy diet. Becoming more others-centred makes us more Christ-centred.

Why do so many believers think that their pastor is responsible to feed them? It is in community, and life groups, that the hungry are fed. Approach the table. If you need food, there’s plenty to go around, but no one is going to spoon feed you. You’ll have to lift the fork to your own mouth.

In the book of Acts, Chapter 6, Luke wrote about increasing complaints by the Hellenists, against the Jews, that their widows were being neglected in the daily food distribution. Look around the pews the next time you’re at church. Do you see any widows being left out? Do you see any single mothers being left out? Are there aliens amongst the congregation – new people – hungry people? Does anyone look hurt, lonely, out of sorts? Did you skip breakfast again? Thought perhaps pastor might feed you this morning?

Acts 6:2-4 says, “It is not right that we should give up preaching the word of God to serve tables. Therefore, brothers, pick out from among you seven men of good repute, full of Spirit and of wisdom, whom we will appoint to this duty. But we will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word.” A real Christian is a follower of Christ. Those who follow Him do what He did. It’s what He commanded us to do. If you’re a follower, you’re also a leader, “full of Spirit and wisdom.” Feed someone. Lead a life group, or at the very least, if your appetite overwhelms you, attend one – feed on the Word of God and when you are satiated, share the Bread of Life with someone else who is hungry. Let your pastor devote himself to the ministry of the word. Submit to his/her authority and serve someone.

Choose an Identity

Out there in the blogosphere there is a host company called Blogspot. Those who wish to leave comments are requested to “Choose an Identity.” The choices are: “Google/Blogger,” “Other,” or, “Anonymous.”

I’m sure I’ve left at least 50 comments on the various blogs I visit but it never really made me chuckle until today. Today, I consciously chose my identity as “other.” I was unable to choose “Google/Blogger.” I did not want to remain anonymous. It dawned on me that in my BC life, I would have chosen anonymous, just in case someone didn’t agree with what I said or ... what if they actually wanted to contact me! Today, I am “other.” I am set apart from the rest. Today was not the first time I deliberately choose an identity.

Years ago I was a chameleon. If my husband voted left, I voted left. If he voted right... If my friends smoked, I smoked. Whatever was the in thing, whatever the majority went with, I would be on the bandwagon. I never had an opinion of my own. I chose to remain anonymous. Why? Because I didn’t understand how important it was to seek the truth, to ruminate over the facts, or to consider the repercussions of my decisions.

What other people thought and believed sounded good to me, even if it didn’t really sound good at all. I believed that everyone was more intelligent than I. I believed that my opinion didn’t matter. I believed that ‘little ole me’ couldn’t do anything to change the world or anything in it. And I certainly did not want to attract any negative attention.

Today, I deliberately choose to be the “other.” I choose to be different if I need to be. I choose to honour the fact that I am set apart. I am different. If 9 out of 10 people think it’s alright to end a life, does that make it right? Several men stood before Jesus, ready to stone a woman caught in adultery. He made one simple statement and everyone ran ... “let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” Stephen was murdered by a majority who thought they knew the truth, but they didn’t even come close. They were oblivious to the truth because they needed to exalt themselves about it.

I refuse to be anonymous about the truth. Truth is unchanging. What’s right is right and always will be. You can pretend there is no pink elephant in the room but eventually you’re going to step in the evidence that says there is. I have chosen my identity.

Which will you choose?

So Politically Incorrect

WARNING: This post may contain politically incorrect content that might offend those who may be insecure about their masculinity or femininity.

I was chatting with a friend who’s an avid reader. Being an avid reader myself, I asked what he was reading. He seemed reticent to share with me, kind of scoping me out to prepare himself for what type of reaction I might have, and then decided to just go for it.

“No More Christian Nice Guy,” he responded. Hmm! My eyebrow slanted upwardly. “What’s it about?” I asked. He went on to tell me that the author believes that many Christian men seem to have given up their responsibilities as men, as leaders, and heads of families, in favour of a watered-down sensitive type...

Well, I can be pretty blunt...why stop now...so I asked, “you mean they’ve lost their – er – I mean they tend to behave in a somewhat emasculated manner?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. I couldn’t help but ask the next question. “Did he mention anything about women’s lib in there?” A shy affirmative nod answered my question. What really pleased me is that he didn’t try and water it down. Yes! Yes, it did! (Calm down ladies – it’s not your fault).

So, here are my thoughts, just in case you’re still reading. I’m a baby-boomer – but born just on the cusp of its end. My mother had been raised in a confused generation. They started out believing their place was in the home and then somewhere shortly after life for women began toward the other extreme. My generation was even more confused. Attending high school in the mid-seventies was strange. Half my girl friends were planning to get married and settle down after graduation and the other half were going to college. However, those girls going off to college were not going to train to be firefighters or cops – they were learning the, (sorry I have to use the term), more “traditional female career choices.”

I asked my friend what his wife did. He told me that they care for foster children and that for the last several years she’s been caring for the family. “She’s really got her hands full,” he said, “I don’t know how she does it, but she often says she feels as if she’s not contributing unless she’s working outside the home. That’s so sad.” He was the first man I have ever heard make a comment like that! It wasn’t like that “back in the day.”

I’m confused. We’re all confused. Are we supposed to work, stay at home, do a mixture?? I don’t know. I need help.

It seems like men feel pressured to be more like our girlfriends, all emotional and supersensitive, and we ladies feel pressured to be tough – more like the men we marry. I’m a product of this confusion and I just want to be authentic. The problem is that it’s just taken me the last four years of this spiritual journey to embrace the fact that I’m a woman. I’ve spent so many years trying to be tough and be the man and woman of the house that I’ve not only put my femininity aside but completely rejected it because I was convinced that being a “girly girl” meant that I was weak and useless. Where did I ever get this message? Sorry guys – I got it from most of the significant men in my life who didn’t want me to cry, who wanted me to aspire to climbing the corporate ladder and earn more money .... But – sorry ladies – I think it was the womens' rights issues that started it all. We brainwashed. We kicked masculine butt. We made some of them cry. Bully for us! We did everything to be treated exactly like them and now some of us don’t even know who we are. We wonder why we’re completely stressed out. Well, think about it. Work all day at the job, come home and do a day's worth of work at home, feed and tend to the family, do homework with kids and then go to bed with the convenient, proverbial headache. Women wanted to be equal to men and now it feels like we’re expected to outdo them. They’re not as crazy as we are to even attempt what we do.

The unfortunate thing is that most of my closest Christian female friends will want to have me burned at the stake for exposing my unpopular opinion. I just want to be a woman, a helper. I don’t want to be the man. I don’t want to lead the family. I don’t want to boss my husband around or tell him how he should feel or act or dress. I don’t want him to ask me if his butt looks to fat in his jeans or complain that he’s bloated after he has too much iced tea. When he slips on the cross-bar – it should hurt!

Men! I repent! We were WRONG. Please forgive us. Can we please go back to the old way??