I KNOW . . . sounds like a sitcom. Yet, God pursuing us with goodness and mercy all the days of our lives is so much more than characters humorously portrayed on stage.

God not only forgives our sins, heals our diseases, redeems our lives from destruction, crowns us with love and compassion, satisfies our desires with good things, and renews our strength (Psa 103:3-5), He also disciplines those He loves. In mercy He does not give us as our sins deserve, but He disciplines and trains us for our good that we may share in His holiness and produce a harvest of righteousness and peace.

Therefore, the writer of Hebrews says, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees (Heb. 12:6,10,11,12).

When God says, I will fulfill My purpose for you; Surely My love endures forever—I will not abandon the works of My hands (Psa 138:8), we can grab onto that promise and run the race with it. Doesn’t that just give you a shot in the ole feeble arms and strengthen those weak knees?

Soon after we moved to Alaska, winter descended and I looked in amazement at the beauty of the Chugach Mountains bathed pink in the rays of the setting sun. These mountains surround Anchorage like a bowl and thousands of lights twinkled and sparkled in and around this frozen and otherwise dark city. Without a cloud cover the temperature dropped to O° Fahrenheit. In spite of landing in this winter wonderland, we wondered how God would fulfill His purpose for us here at the end of the earth, especially without a job or ministry.

Fortunately the light of Jesus also shines into cold and dark places. He brings life and beauty into the otherwise barren wastelands of our lives. God had already presided at my conception, rejoiced at my birth, taken my hand, and led me through perils of polio in childhood. He kept me through the tumultuous years of my youth and celebrated my wedding day. Jesus—our constant companion in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or for worse. He orchestrated the births of our children, felt our hearts as each left our nest, and brought seventeen grandchildren into being. Though we made our plans, God always directed our steps. He gave purpose to each difficult seasonal transition with the light of His love and grace.

Now, how unbelievable to actually be growing old. Yet, we can look back over a life-time of God’s goodness and mercy. I read that we cannot fathom the passing of time because we were made for eternity. Makes sense to me. David says, You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure (Psa 39:5). Chapters later he writes, He knows how we are formed, and remembers that we are dust. The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more (Psa 103:14-16).

David acknowledges that God purposefully ordained each of our days, All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be (Psa 139:16). Each day is God’s gift to us to spend either in selfish pursuits or in loving and adoring Him.

We only have One. Short. Life.

Therefore. . . let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. . . (Heb 12:1-2). God marked out a unique path for each one of us, a race for you and a race for me to complete and for Him to perfect.

How important to hold His hand throughout our days. As a small child I remember reaching up for my Daddy’s hand as we walked out of church in a crowded isle. What a surprise reaching the foyer to look up and discover I was holding the wrong daddy’s hand! My tears of embarrassment stilled as my own Daddy took me in his arms. How easy to grasp another’s hand for security with resulting pain and embarrassment. Yet, each time we run back into our Daddy’s arms, He holds us even more closely.

Not only is He our Eternal and Good Shepherd, but our Creator, Designer, and the Master Weaver of our lives:

MASTER WEAVER

Master Weaver,
Weaver of my ways.
I look to You for all my days.
Master Weaver,
Weaving love through pain and strife,
You are the designer,
The designer of my life.

Weaver, take the broken strands
And replace them all with new.
I desire my life to be
Without blemish, without stain,
Living just for You.

Take the tangles of my sin,
By Your mercy, set me free,
Through Your perfect sacrifice,
Lamb of God on Calvary,
Gave Your blood for me.

Take the dark threads of my years,
Sweetest offering raised to Thee,
Then Your lovely character
Will be woven skillfully,
Your pattern seen in me.

Weave the bright strands of Your joys
Through the days of dark despair,
So the world may see You’re real,
Through my life, LORD,
Know You’re there,
The Weaver that I share.

Master Weaver,
Weaver of my ways.
I look to You for all my days.
Master Weaver,
Weaving love through pain and strife,
You are the designer,
The designer of my life.

© 1985 MarJean S. Peters

ONE COLD SPRING our banty hen sat on a clutch of eggs. As they began to hatch, my mother brought them into the house for warmth. My five year old sister sat wide-eyed as she leaned over the hatching chicks, unknowingly imprinting her beautiful little face into their bird brains. As their fluff dried, they instinctively began to move toward that imprint. She moved away. They followed. She moved faster. On they came, peeping their little hearts out. To this day she doesn’t like birds! Under ordinary circumstances, the mother hen keeps close track of her babies and they respond to her call.

Today I carefully lifted the lid of our parakeet nesting box and peered inside. There, in a feather-lined indentation, lay the tiniest five eggs I’ve ever seen. We’re just so excited! In another couple weeks we anticipate the wonder of new life. The first face they see will undoubtedly be their attentive and beautiful blue mother. According to web info, she and their yellow-green daddy, will feed, care for, and teach the incredibly tiny, naked, and blind hatchlings until their eyes open, they grow feathers, and pattern their behavior after their parents.

Zoological imprinting happens when a young animal recognizes another animal, person, or thing as a parent or object of habitual trust. MedicineNet.com says psychological imprinting is “a remarkable phenomenon that occurs in animals, and theoretically in humans, in the first hours of life. The newborn creature bonds to the type of animals it meets at birth and begins to pattern its behavior after them.”

When God created Adam in His image and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, the man became a living soul. No doubt, Adam’s eyes first opened to behold the Son of God. He was imprinted with habitual trust and patterned his behavior after his Creator. However. . . we know the story. Because Adam and Eve chose to follow another voice, they plunged the entire human race into false imprints. Satan told Eve that if she ate from the God-forbidden fruit her eyes would be opened. And so it was. Our eyes opened alright, but not to God. They opened to things of this world and to other gods, after which we follow and pattern our lives.

However, to save us from our wayward and literally dead-end pursuits, God imprinted Himself with humanity. He took on human flesh and imprinted you and me into the palms of His hands (Isa. 49:16). He relentlessly pursues and offers us the breath of eternal life. This new birth opens our eyes to the existence and love of God. We no longer conform to the pattern of this world but are transformed by the renewing of our minds (Rom 12:2). Jesus says, “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me” (Jn 10:27).

King David says God’s goodness and mercy shall “redap” him all the days of his life (Psa 23:6). This Hebrew word means to pursue, chase after, or hound. The English poet Francis Thompson (1859-1907) wrote ”The Hound of Heaven,” a 182-line poem expressing God’s unrelenting pursuit of us. The prophet Hosea illustrates God’s painful, jealous love for unfaithful Israel by taking a harlot as his wife. However, she continues to pursue other lovers. Then Hosea finds her, buys her back, binds up her wounds, and draws her into His arms. Dear ones, God bought us with the highest price in the universe and jealously pursues us with His goodness and mercy.

The “Hound of Heaven” overcomes our natural inclination to doubt His love and wander off by continuing to woo us, calling to us with intense and tender jealousy. The enemy stalks us to destroy us, but God pursues us to protect and deliver us from worldly values, evil inclinations, and deception. Through God’s unrelenting pursuit, we come to recognize Him as our parent in habitual trust. Through faith in Christ, we receive the power of His Spirit to bond with Him and pattern our behavior after Him. His goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives.

I will fulfill My purpose for you; Surely My love endures forever—I will not abandon the works of My hands (Psa 138:8)

He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge (Psa 91:4)

Hide me in the shadow of Your wings (Psa 17:8)

I long to dwell in Your tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of Your wings. Selah (Psa 61:4)

TODAY WE LEFT THE SWELTERING HEAT of Tennessee and began our journey back home through Missouri, from where I presently write. This evening, after driving through constant and heavy freeway traffic and dodging a multitude of freight trucks, we relax in little Smithville outside of Kansas City.

In the cool of this evening we look out over a hayfield and hear numerous bird calls, crickets, and only distant traffic and an occasional jet—an oasis of rest after two weeks of helping our son and his family move from Spokane, Washington to Nashville. Not exactly an easy time since they still do not have a place to live besides their fifth wheel trailer, nor do they have paying jobs, and school starts for their two little kiddos on August 3.

I’m reminded of King Solomon’s words, “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven” Ecc 3:1. My heart aches over the faith trial our kids must go through, yet I remember our own relocation from Washington to Alaska seventeen years ago. Following that difficult time, I wrote in my prayer journal:

Dear Shepherd,
We bow our heads before You and the oil of joy fills our hearts to overflowing. I sing the words of André Crouch, “How can I say thanks for all the things You have done for me, things so undeserved….”

You were with us as we lumbered along in our 26 foot, ’87 GMC truck winding through deepening autumn foliage and magnificent mountain passes, past tranquil lakes and turquoise rivers. Your glaciers ribboned between rocky cliffs that rose into vast cloud formations. You brought us from Salem, Oregon through British Columbia, the Yukon Territories, and Alaska. Our journey finally came to an end at 1:00 a.m. Friday, September 9, 1999. You were still with us when our truck made that one last groan as it cranked up the steep driveway of Jami’s duplex in Anchorage.

In all the following days of unloading, unpacking, arranging, and rearranging, You never left us. You made a way where there seemed to be no way in the weeks of job hunting and ministry seeking. November 29 You gave Conrad a new ministry as Resource Center Coordinator at our new church.

You led, guided, encouraged, provided, and kept Your promise to go ahead of us. You crowned us with loving kindness and tender mercies. The process was not easy. We did not smile through every trial. We did not understand or like everything You did or did not do. Yet, I bow before You now and the oil of joy runs from my head to my heart with overflowing praise and thanksgiving. “For Your Name’s sake” You poured out Your grace to us and we must tell what You have done. Yes André, TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

I gaze across the open field tonight to a deepening blue sky. I long to come to an end of this earthly journey and enter our final and glorious home. Yet, hymns of praise drift through my mind these days.

I love Fanny Crosby’s words, “All the way my Savior leads me; What have I to ask beside? Can I doubt His tender mercy, Who thro’ life has been my guide? Heav’nly peace divinest comfort, Here by faith in Him to dwell! For I know whate’er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well. . . .”

John W. Peterson’s words join in, “Some day life’s journey will be o’er And I shall reach that distant shore; I’ll sing while ent’ring heaven’s door, ‘Jesus led me all the way. Jesus led me all the way, Led me step by step each day;’ I will tell the saints and angels as I lay my burdens down, ‘Jesus led me all the way.'”

What sweet comfort! He anoints my head with the oil of joy and my cup runs over because God’s promises are true for me, for my children, and for you. We can rejoice in our victories today and in confidence of our coming redemption!

A WEALTHY PLACE

I praise You, my God!
I shout my gratitude:
You are the Giver and Keeper of my life,
You make me an overcomer.
You test me;
You bring trouble upon me
To reveal the wickedness of my heart,
And to cleanse and purify it
As bright silver reflecting Your loveliness.
You force me to remain in hard circumstances,
You use people to ride over me,
To break my will to Your will.
You take me through painful experiences,
But You refine me
And bring me safely through.
You reveal Yourself to me
Through these circumstances.
Indeed a wealthy place!
Therefore, I will keep my commitment to You
And be strong to trust You.
To all who will listen,
I will tell what You have done for me.

—MarJean S. Peters, personalized from Psalm 66:8-16

WE SUDDENLY find ourselves in Tornado Alley! Just an hour ago we passed through gently rolling hills beneath a warm sun and clear sky. I wondered how to write about the presence of my enemies in this tranquil place where grazing cattle and hay bales dot the hillsides. However, this South Dakota highway took us straight toward an ever darkening horizon until we drove right into a storm. Now lightening flashes and torrents of rain beat against the windshield. We cautiously watch the horizon for any descending funnels. The earlier peaceful, pastoral landscape actually engages a clear and present danger. Seventeen years ago I wrote about a different kind of “tornado alley” in my journal:

Today we walked through the small downstairs duplex where we will live if we move to Anchorage. The occupant isn’t out yet and reeking ash trays of cigarette butts were stacked near the sink. Low ceilings and small basement windows felt claustrophobic. I can’t figure out how we’ll fit in there, but I’m almost too tired to care.

The Shepherd knows my thoughts, anxieties, and longings. I really don’t want to live in a rental… of any kind. I don’t want to move all our stuff or leave stuff behind. I don’t want to use our equity on moving expenses. Yet, If we don’t move here, I cringe at infringing on relatives in the lower “48” until we find jobs. Such fears lay hold of me! For all my prayers, logic, and talking, I cannot motivate my husband to make a decision. I realize we’ll need some miracles if the Shepherd wants us in Alaska.

I pour out my heart asking Him to refill it with Himself and His Word so the enemy will find no resting place here. Surely he seeks to devour us from the shadows of an unknown future. Knowing the future is hidden from us, he takes full advantage of our limitations. From the paint box of our own vivid imaginations, he conjures up scenarios of what could happen and brushes in human logic and reasoning. Soon he convinces us of a fierce reality before us. Doubt replaces trust. Fear replaces faith. Panic replaces truth. We begin to speak and act out of unbelief and fear, quenching and grieving His sweet and tender Holy Spirit.

The Shepherd calls us to repentance. We come to His light. We pray to overcome. What glorious promises for those who overcome! He is the Truth. In Him we find a peaceful and bright reality. He is the God of joyful expectation and He fills us with joy and peace in the very presence of our enemies.

We did move into that apartment in Alaska and by God’s sweet grace it became our cozy home for ten months while God provided a job and before we could purchase a home. So many answered prayers and amazing provisions followed, as well as more trials. Yet, always He blesses us with abundance in the presence of our enemies.

The South Dakota storm passes and we drive into a humid and tranquil evening. So many times the storms of life threaten to swallow us up in fear and anxiety. Yet, in the presence of those fears, the LORD Himself remains with us and encourages us on. If we never had to face a storm we would not learn to know Him. It is when we face our greatest enemies that God reveals His love, power, and deliverance. For that we can surely praise Him!

WAR CRY

Lions roar and shadows walk,
Darkness deepens, enemies stalk,
Accuser of brothers, father of lies,
“How fierce the battle!” the warrior cries.

Then out from brazen heavens above,
God’s sweet Spirit descends like a dove;
He whispers a message in the weary one’s ear
To be strong in the LORD and not to fear.

His mighty power will help us stand
With the armor of God and His Sword in our hand;
In war not waged against man’s flesh and blood,
We fight powers of darkness we’ve not understood.

Yet God’s hand is greater if we only believe,
The shield of faith becomes our reprieve.
The breastplate of righteousness shines like the sun,
Reflecting the beauty of Jesus, God’s Son.

Then when the battlecries thunder around,
The belt of God’s truth keeps us safe, keeps us sound.
The helmet of deliverance protects our mind
From intrusive thoughts intended to blind.

We bring each scenario before Jesus alone
To bow in obedience before His great throne.
We run in obedience with shoes light and strong
With good news of peace to overcome wrong.

May we not grow weary in doing what’s right,
For the end of the battle is surely in sight.
And Jesus stands waiting to give us reward
For faithfully trusting His Holy Word.

Though lions roar and sorrows run deep,
God hears our prayers and sees us weep.
He fights for us with flashing sword,
Making us conquerors through Jesus our Lord

—MarJean S. Peters

IT’s dinner time and I’m hungry. I come from a rich German heritage of meals served on time and at the table—I know. . . practically unheard of in this generation. T.V. dinners, pizza-and-a-movie, fast food, take-out, meals on the run. . . yet, we miss something.

The Good Shepherd prepares a table before us—a real sit-down meal. Growing up, I didn’t know of any other kind. When my children and grandchildren come to visit, I love to prepare something they will enjoy. How much more our Good Shepherd delights to prepare a table before us. It’s a good meal. He’s not there to impress us as an entertainer. He prepares this meal to enhance our fellowship with Him, not to distract from it.

Revelation 3:20 says, “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” What a grand invitation!

After Jesus met the woman at the well, His disciples urged him to eat something but Jesus told them he had food they knew nothing about. They wondered if someone brought food to Him, but Jesus said. “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work” Jhn 4:33-34. Jesus’ near and dear relationship with His Father continually nourished His spirit just by doing and completing His Father’s will.

God spread a table before me today, a table to nourish my soul. He provided solid food to strengthen me to follow Him, come what may. He sent people for me to encourage and He sent people to encourage me. He opened my ears to His Still Small Voice and spoke to me through His amazing creation. He loved my husband, children, grandchildren, and friends through me. I can only bow in thanksgiving for this abundant table.

Seventeen years ago, I made this entry in my prayer journal:

We celebrate the last of our on-the-road job today and the last of motel living. Tomorrow we fly to Alaska to visit our children and check out the job market.

The Shepherd blessed us through these weeks of homelessness in many unforeseen ways. He created a banquet of provision right in the middle of hardship. As we passed through the Valley of Weeping, He showed me how to make it a place of springs and He covered it with blessings as plentiful as the autumn rains (Ps 84:6).

While “living on the road” we rested from all the stress of selling our home, packing, moving, and storing our stuff. It also gave us time to adjust to an empty nest. Motel living meant no house cleaning, planning or preparing meals, or entertaining houseguests. We survived frozen dinners and I even lost unneeded pounds. During this time I spent many uninterrupted hours alone with the Lord and fed on His Word.

This arid place blossomed and became a fruitful time to write devotionals to encourage others. Though ready to move on, I thank God for His strength during this entire time. He set a banquet before us in the presence of our enemies of insecurity, joblessness, homelessness, and purposelessness. Even through these difficult circumstances we acknowledge our Shepherd’s hand of love, power and wisdom to make our paths straight. He lovingly, lavishly provided and redeemed our losses in the most unexpected places.

Well, I had to take a break from talking with you to have dinner, but now that I’m full and no longer hungry, I’m reminded of the fullness of God’s provision for our souls. He gave us a rich heavenly heritage with meals served on time and at His table!

I look back today and marvel at God’s orchestration of our lives then and now. Though many more valleys and mountain tops followed that homeless time, those days still serve to remind me of God’s faithfulness to each of us day after day throughout our lives. Let each of us join King David who says, “I will give thanks to you, LORD, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds” (Psa 9:1).

ABIDE WITH ME

“Abide with me,” I heard His voice,
“And I will enter in.
I’ll make your heart a pleasant place
Where love wins over sin.”

“Oh, yes, My Lord, please do come in!
I’d love for you to stay.
The front room’s Yours, the rest are mine.
I think it’s best that way.
And to abide, I just suppose
You’ll want the house kept clean.
I’ll need to dust and wipe the place,
At least what can be seen.
I’m sure you’ll want our meals on time,
I’ll make a quickie stew;
I’ll do my best, but still You see,
I’ve other things to do.”

The Master quietly took His place,
And came for meals prepared;
And yet, He rarely spoke a word,’
But listened while I shared.

“Oh, Lord,” I cried out in despair,
“I’ve tried to do my best,
And yet I’m lonely and so worn,
To have You as a guest”
I looked at Him with searching soul,
And He looked back at me.
“I asked you, child, My darling one,
Would you abide with ME?”

“Oh LORD!” I whispered, now ashamed,
How blinded could I be? Please
Take this whole heart for Your own
And I’ll abide with THEE!”

With mighty wind and flaming Sword,
He filled my heart with peace,
Then sat me down before a fire,
And to a royal feast!
Now He is LORD, and I abide;
I rest in His control,
For He’s the Keeper of this house
And Master of my soul.

—MarJean S. Peters

A shepherd’s rod and staff are inanimate objects in and of themselves. However, they are an extension of the shepherd’s heart of love and care for the sheep. I could not illustrate God’s comfort with a couple of sticks, but rather of the Good Shepherd enfolding a lamb. I pray you will know His love that holds you forever so close to His heart.

I KNEW SHARON from childhood and last week she passed into the arms of Jesus. When she was a young teen in my mom’s Sunday school class, I was an adoring grade schooler. Years later she became a dear friend and always remained beautiful inside and out with an unwavering love for Jesus. Now she’s gone, leaving a huge hole in the heart of her husband, children, grandchildren, siblings, and many friends. What can comfort such empty aching?

Not only do we lose loved ones in this world, but we lose security in this evil day. Stephen W. Smith, Founder of Potter’s Inn for soul care writes, We live in unparalleled perilous times. The world’s tectonic plates shift to make this THE most fearful time in the history of our nation. Recession. Inflation. Wars on several fronts. Political melt downs in congress. Jobless rates and more. Fear now predominates emotion and from the looks of things, won’t improve quickly. The soul absorbs stress making us fear for our lives and panic to think what our children will face. With so much erosion, we need soul care as a foundation. [Www.pottersinn.coM]. Where do we find comfort in these evil days?

Comfort also flees because life often doesn’t turn out like we first imagined. We find ourselves on roads we didn’t mean to choose. We feel the loss of what could have been but wasn’t and we grieve, each in our own way. Each heart knows its own sorrows and losses, unfulfilled dreams, relational heartaches, regrets, remorse, guilt, and shame. Unless we stuff our feelings into the dark caverns of denial, these memories follow our aging bodies to the grave. Too often we seek earthly perfection, pleasures, praise, or power to medicate our pain.

Yet, only one comfort and one Comforter exist.

Always the Good Shepherd pursues us with goodness and mercy. He does not fix our hearts with stoic hardness. He grants us the emotional gift of sadness to feel the true value of people we lose and the passions we carry. He does not fix our emotions, He heals them with His rod and staff.

Metaphorically, His rod and staff parallel God’s Word and His Holy Spirit. These tools rescue, protect, and guide the sheep as well as comfort, restore, and revive God’s children. They rescue us from our fear, willful ways, self-righteousness, self-importance, and worldly appetites. They protect us from the lions who seek to devour us in humanistic programming. His rod and staff take us through enemy mine fields to green pastures and still waters.

Though we rejoice in His staff of love, wisdom, and power, we often despise His rod of discipline, correction, and reproof. This rod shatters our idolatrous pride. It strips us of power to control our own lives, other people’s lives, and our circumstances. It denies us the earthly pleasures of our fleshly cravings and exposes our vulnerabilities. Discipline is so painful because our old nature struggles so hard to survive.

Yet, how significant to find healing in His arms! How satisfying to rest in His Presence! How secure to dance for joy in the robe of His righteousness! How sufficient we find His amazing grace!

Though our old nature must die a painful and seemingly slow death, Christ became the Source of new life! His sweet comfort becomes a reality deeper than our emotions or intellect. Our wounded spirits find security in Him and overflow with a profound significance in the price He paid to purchase our salvation. He alone satisfies our longings with living water. He breaks our bondage to earthly addictions and fills us with gratitude. His discipline leaves us without remorse or regret and produces only greater joy and deeper peace.

When Jesus spoke of the world, He knew what was coming upon it. 2 Timothy 3:1-5 says, “But mark this: There will be terrible times in the last days. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God—having a form of godliness but denying its power. Have nothing to do with such people.”

Not only does the Shepherd’s rod and staff rescue, protect and guide us, but the rod brings justice. Revelation19:15 says, Coming out of his mouth is a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. ‘He will rule them with an iron scepter.’ He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. The King James Version says, rod of iron. He will bring truth and justice to this old world that comforts us as we witness the atrocities carried out in our world today.

Dear one, though weeping endures for a night, His promised joy comes in the morning (Psa 30:5). Jesus also said, “I told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! [be comforted] I have overcome the world” (Jn 16:33).

WORD & SPIRIT

Thoughts of You
Like soft rain falling,
Music drifting through.

Lurking fears,
In windows peering
Raindrops splashing tears.

Doubts move in
Like dark clouds crossing,
Tempting me to sin.

Listen, hear,
A still voice speaking
Whispers, danger near.

Windy gust—
His Spirit drawing,
Wooing me to trust.

Words of life,
A bright sword piercing,
All my sin and strife.

Comfort comes
With love songs playing,
Sweetly sung to me.

—MarJean S. Peters

SOMETHING about feeling alone. . .something vulnerable, unprotected, exposed. Why don’t I hear strange noises at night unless I’m home alone? Why do I feel completely comfortable in strange situations with my husband, but most uncomfortable by myself? The simple presence of another person can make us feel stronger and more courageous.

As a young lad, my husband’s daddy offered him one hundred dollars to walk around the outside of the house after dark. He declined. Behind fear of the dark lie fears of abandonment. If only this young boy’s daddy had walked with him into the darkness. His presence and relationship in that, or in any other real or imagined fearful time in this boy’s life, could have translated into the reality of the heavenly Father’s relational presence.

I still remember my fear of imaginary bears and Mommy embracing and telling me, In what time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee (Ps 56:3). Later Mom told me to remember, I will trust, and not be afraid (Isa 12:2). Relationship builds a trust where we feel secure, protected, and assured. A deliberate choice to trust right at the get-go dispels fear of evil before it gains a grip in our hearts and minds.

As childhood bears moved out, adult bears moved in—job loss incited fearful imaginations, while fear of criticism, intimidation, or rejection robbed me of confidence. Fear of making wrong decisions can emotionally paralyzed us. Many phobias bring ominous fears of pain or death. Evils of crime, war, natural disasters, political atrocities, and terrorism can strike fear into any heart. Luke 21:26 says, men’s hearts failing them from fear and the expectation of those things which are coming on the earth, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken (NKJV).

We attempt to dispel fears by human effort—personal pep talks, medications, denial, avoidance patterns, shutting down or raging out. These ineffective methods only deepen our insecurities. God gifted us with fear to wisely avoid danger. However, the Fall corrupted our sense of legitimate danger and put us in bondage to anxiety. An on-line dictionary says fear is the expectation of evil. Behind fear lurk lies. Behind lies hides the father of lies. Jesus came to destroy the devil’s work. Faith expects good and behind faith lives truth. Behind truth lives the Father whose perfect love casts out fear. God wants us to live by faith—to expect God to bring good out of all our circumstances.

Jesus overcame evil on the cross to establish a relationship with us. The cross momentarily ripped God the Father and God the Son apart. Because the perfectly pure Son took upon Himself all the sin and yuck of this world, His Father turned His face from Him in unimaginable grief and pain. The Son cried out in equal torment, My God, My God! Why have You forsaken Me? Yet, God tells us, Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you (Heb 13:5b). Because the Son exchanged our sin for His righteousness, the Father looks upon those who receive His Son with infinite joy. His relational presence opens our prison doors. As we cast our cares on Him, talk things over with Him, spend time meditating on what He wrote to us, He reveals more and more of Himself. As our relationship grows, so does our trust.

How could I write this message where the blood of martyrs runs hot? People suffer torture, rape, and death for the sake of the Christ. God did not protect His own Son from torture and death on the cross. Why? Because through His Son’s suffering, He justified many people and brought them into His eternal joy. God strengthens us in our suffering and reveals Himself through our suffering to a lost and dying world. He does not always protect our temporary bodies, but far more importantly, He protects our souls and will usher us into the glories of heaven with great reward.

People who walk through the valley of the shadow of death write things like this:

Fear and faith cannot exist within my heart at the same time. When we live by faith, trusting the Lord moment by moment, fear has no room in the heart.
—John Short, detained in North Korea

Like that the Lord said to me, “They are persecuting Me. Will you lend Me your body? It is Me they are persecuting. Will you love them? Will you love these that persecute you?” It was in that moment that He started giving me the strength of the Holy Spirit to withstand.
—“Sister Amber” on VOM Radio

Our Abba Father’s love relationship with us extends beyond head knowledge. He pursues us on a heart level and relates to our joys, fears, passions, shame, guilt, hurts, loneliness, and sadness. He weeps with those who weep and rejoices with those who rejoice. God remains with His blood-bought children and within them by His Holy Spirit. With gratitude and confidence we can take risks, face change, withstand the evils of our day, and even enter the valley of the shadow of death. Our heavenly Father remains relationally present with us and strengthens us to the very end through His Son, Jesus Christ. Therefore, Rejoice!

LORD JESUS

More fragrant
Than the sweetest flower,
More gentle than a lamb,
Stronger than a mighty army
Is Your nail-pierced hand.

And when I
Cannot see Your hand
Move the sea apart,
You quiet me by Your perfect love
To trust Your loving heart.

For someday
I shall see You, LORD,
We’ll stand there face to face,
And all the struggles of the years
Will melt in our embrace!

—MarJean S. Peters

DAD AWAITED all the pain and trauma of his second lung cancer surgery. The Doctor told him he needed to go through with it for Mom who needed him as she struggled with her own health issues. As an incurable visionary all his life, that wasn’t exactly the retirement Dad had idealized. Caught between a rock and a hard place, the shadow of despair fell upon him and he lost his will to live.

Near the same time, my husband shook his head and whispered, “I’m not doing well.” I knew what that meant. The shadow of depression assaulted him again—stealing the hope that life would ever change. Ten months after our little church had to close its doors, my husband remained a displaced pastor. My heart sank and my own faith shook… again.

Some years later when the doc put my husband on Xanax for chest pressure, we thought nothing of it until we learned of it’s highly addictive properties. Two years ago he decided to get off the drug for that reason, which mentally took him to the edge of hell. Either a portal opened into the demonic realm or the drug so damaged his thinking that every day he walked in the shadow of death. It’s been two years. Ever so slowly the damaged cells heal, but statistically it could be another year.

Walking through the Valley of the Shadow of Death we feel afraid to die and sometimes we fear we won’t—too afraid to live with broken dreams or ongoing pain. The light of day fades into a perpetual shadow existence. Our amazing brains try desperately to figure out why we feel so messed up, why our emotions take on a life of their own. Our cognitive thinking jumps to wrong conclusions—to shadows rather than reality.

In drug withdrawal my husband’s brain (with the enemy’s help, no doubt) told him Christians don’t think such terrible thoughts. This led to tormenting fears of going to hell, of missing the rapture, of dying, of being cut off from the God he truly loves and serves. Wrong, crazy thinking! Proverbs 3:5-6 tells us to trust the Lord with all our hearts and NOT to lean to our own understanding, but to acknowledge Him in all our ways for He directs our paths.

I thank God that Psalms says we only walk through this valley, not set up permanent residence. I thank Him that shadows in themselves prove harmless. Christ’s power defeated the enemy. Lies and deceptions alone comprise the enemy’s arsenal—only shadows. Nothing more. Christ’s power alone delivers us from the depression and despair that comes when we believe shadows are real. We must cling to the reality of Christ in spite of all physical and shadowy appearances. Remember the acronym for F.E.A.R.—False Evidence Appearing Real.

Bad days and good days, but the valley of the shadow of death eventually becomes familiar to each of us one way or another. Yet, God did not leave us comfortless. His Word and His Holy Spirit lift us into the very lap of God near to His heart, whether we feel it or not. Peter comes to our rescue when he writes, “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. . . Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. . . after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast” 1Pet. 4:12;5:6,10).

Only passing shadows. Oh LORD, enlighten the eyes of our hearts so we may know the HOPE to which You call us, the riches of Your glorious inheritance in the saints, and Your incomparably great power for those who believe…who believe…believe! (Eph. 1:18)

LIFE AND DEATH

What is life
That we cling so desperately to its vapor?
What is death
That we shun its sinister shadow?
What is God
When the vapor vanishes
And the shadow becomes light?

God is as He always was and always shall be.
For in Him is no variableness,
Neither shadow of turning.

He is the beginning and the end—
The Alpha and the Omega.
The Author and the Finisher of our faith.
He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
He breathed into us the very breath of life
And tasted death for every man.

He is the Resurrection and the Life.
In Him is life and the life is the light of men.
He rescued us from the dominion of darkness
and brought us into the kingdom of the Son He loves,
In whom we have redemption,
The forgiveness of sins.

He will not vanish with my tears,
Nor will He hide from me
When I seek Him.
He lives within me saying, “Here I am.”
Never will He leave me,
Never will He forsake me.

My life, my righteousness, my strength
When I have none of my own.
Even when my faith fails.
He remains faithful.

When I have no strength to cling, even to Him,
He carries me in His everlasting arms
And under the shadow of His wings I take refuge.

There is only death to my own will,
For I am bought with the price of His blood.
I am not my own.

When perishable
Clothes with imperishable,
And mortal with immortality,
When death is swallowed up in victory,
Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?

—MarJean S. Peters

SO MANY VALLEYS! I find myself in the “Recovery Stage” of life, which comes after the “Warrior Stage”. The next stage is supposed to be the “Sage Stage”. Each comes with different challenges and victories. Last week in a recovery group, one lady shared how an immune system disorder suddenly changed her life and she has to “come to terms” with it. So too, with each life stage, we must reach a place of acceptance of a new normal, a place where we stop fighting circumstances, and by God’s grace and power, humbly and peacefully embrace all that He has or does not have for us.

Today as I pondered the changes in my life, an old hymn came to mind: All the way my Savior leads me; What have I to ask beside? Can I doubt His tender mercy, Who through life has been my Guide?  As we seek Him, GOD Himself guides us through life, through every valley, across every stream, and strengthens us to climb every mountain. A couple decades ago I journaled:

OH THESE VALLEYS!!  Another sleepless night leaves me physically and emotionally weak. Too many thoughts keep me wide awake. However, in those wee hours, the Shepherd reminded me, “As your days, so shall your strength be” (Deut 33:25), and “All things work together for good,” which right now I find hard to imagine. I don’t mind sleeplessness so much as it makes for a good time to talk with God and sort things through, but the missed-sleep collector comes around later and charges interest! Well, “later” is here, leaving me short changed on all accounts. As evening shadows again lengthen, I lean deeply into Him even though I did not move any mountains today, much less finish the dishes or the laundry. We do get through hard days by putting one foot in front of another. Perhaps it’s okay not to constantly and untiringly forge ahead on some mountainous project—now that’s a novel thought! 

Now, nearly twenty years later, too many thoughts still awaken me too early. Yet the Shepherd remains with me. I look back over some recent deep valleys and thank God for walking through them with me. His familiarity with every valley comforts me. He knows what being human is like because He became a human being.

As I think it over, I realize He felt every emotion we go through. He felt anger toward Pharisees and the temple money changers. He felt hurt by His disciples who doubted Him after witnessing all His miracles. He knew deep sadness and went to lonely places to meet with His Father. He felt gladness in relationships and was deeply troubled in the garden. He felt our guilt and shame on the cross as well as abandonment by His Father. He walked through the valley for us and now walks with us.

Isaiah tells us, He was despised and rejected by men, A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief… Surely He has borne our griefs And carried our sorrows… But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed (Isa 53:3-5).

The psalmist writes about the loveliness of God’s dwelling place and how he longs, even faints for the courts of the Lord. His heart and flesh cry out for the living God. Then he acknowledges the blessedness of those whose strength is in the Lord, who’s hearts are set on pilgrimage.

To set our hearts on pilgrimage means we settle in for the long haul. On the way, we pass through the Valley of Tears. Yet, in that very place of sorrows, we can make it a place of springs. Our tears actually bring good things out of our trials just as rain brings fruitfulness out of the ground.

The psalmist goes on to say, The autumn rains also cover it with pools. They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion… no good thing does He withhold from those whose walk is blameless (Christ made us blameless). LORD Almighty, blessed is the one who trusts in You (Psa 84).

Oh to fully trust the One who calls us to follow Him through valleys. Though we must continue to “fight the good fight,” we only walk through the valley. It is not our permanent residence. For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever.  So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever (2Cor 4:17-18 NLT).

Yes, though we walk through the valley, His abiding presence went before us, now walks with us, and one day will give us a new perspective that vastly outweighs all our sorrows here on earth! Rejoice with me.

                FOCUS

When dark clouds move across my pane,
And hopes are drowned in drenching rain,
”When night seems like it’s far too long,
And doubts leave me without a song,

I fix my eyes on Jesus,
I fix them on His care,
I fix them on His promises,
For He is always there.

When strong winds blow my thoughts off course,
And great waves knock me back and forth,
When tough days leave me tired and worn,
My strength is gone; my heart is torn,

I fix my eyes on Jesus,
Who calms the wind and sea,
And by His grace I find sweet rest
From all anxiety.

When Jesus’ face is all I have,
And He anoints my eyes with salve,
Then glorious wonder! I can see
That Jesus eyes are fixed on me!

His eyes are on the sparrow,
He clothes the grassy lea,
But I’m the one for whom He died,
The child on His knee.

—MarJean S. Peters

I CAN HARDLY remember how it actually came about… It was early. I sat up in bed in one of my more intense encouragement modes. My husband lay there in one of his feeling unworthy, depressive modes. I passionately told him God does not take care of us because we are so wonderful or so good or because we do everything right. He is good to us and cares for us because He upholds His own reputation. He leads us in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake, not for ours! He didn’t care for the children of Israel or stay committed to them because they were better than anyone else. No! God stuck it out with them because He promised He would. God has to keep His promises. He cannot lie. He cannot deny Himself or negate His own character!

Whoosh! The Holy Spirit suddenly pointed this pipeline of truth at me! My passion over someone else’s discouragement stirred my heart to see the truth for my own limitations, failures, and inadequacies. If what I said was true, I needed to completely let go of things to which I so desperately clung, to free-fall into the sure provision of my Savior. Psalm 37:5 tells us to commit our way to the LORD, trust Him, and He will do this: “He will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn, your vindication like the noonday sun.” I needed to commit my circumstances to Him and trust Him with them instead of focusing on our human limitations.

In the days and years that followed my enthusiastic impetus to my husband, God remained faithful as our Provider. The Shepherd led us in paths of righteousness for His Name’s sake. He took care of us and provided for us because that is who He is. He remains true to His own character of love, grace, and benevolence. His faithfulness never depended on our goodness, rightness, brightness, or ability. We were covered!

We can still rejoice today because He will be faithful to Himself regardless of our growing limitations, inadequacies, and failures. He brought us into His kingdom through faith in His precious blood sacrifice, therefore our future does not depend on what we do or don’t do, but upon the very immutable, unchangeable character of God!

“Guide me, O Thou Great Redeemer, pilgrim through this barren land. I am weak, but Thou are mighty; guide me with Thy powerful hand” (William Williams 1745).

Three Fine Fools

Three men gathered to query one time,
A wiseman, a nobleman, and a mighty man fine.

“What is my worth?” asked the wiseman that day,
“I’ve studied and learned all I can, all I may.”
“My worth is great!” beamed the nobleman’s son,
“I’ve inherited wealth and I’ve gained quite a sum.”
“I’m worth a lot!” whooped the captain of might,
“I’ve led thousands to battle and not lost a fight!”

They continued to moot and debate quite awhile,
Comparing themselves until speech became guile.

Then along came a fool out across that same way,
Shuffling and ragged he bid them, “Good day.”
With tongue thick and slow he repeated their talk,
“What is me wirt’, man? Me wirt’ a lot?

The men laughed with scorn at the fool of despite,
“Old fool, you’re not ‘wirt’ much, you’re not even bright!”

His crestfallen face bore the sting of their jeers
As he lowered dimmed eyes now filling with tears.
But then the fool grinned and he lifted his head,
“God ‘ad mercy on me an’ He loves me,” he said.

The men’s laughter faded and the fool went his way,
But the worth of those men was lost on that day.

For God chose the weak and the foolish to show
That true worth is something only He can bestow;
It is not in performance that we discover our worth,
But that God became man and walked on this earth.
He took on the filth of our self-righteousness,
Became the Ragman—gave us holiness.

In paths of righteousness He now leads us on,
Not for our glory but for the name of His Son.

© 1996—MarJean S. Peters