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

I REMEMBER MY COLLEGE DAYS when the socially acceptable attitude in the more intellectual circles doubted the faith of our fathers to embrace personal intellectuality. This attitude provided quite a heady trip to philosophize, intellectualize, and then rationalize whatever diversions of behavior our deceptive hearts took us.

I learned that the worldly-wise say there is no God beside ourselves, or we cannot know him. The inclusive-religious teach there are many paths of God and all paths lead to God. The self-righteous tell us the path to God is a legalistic code.

Robert Frost wrote, “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.” In that same place of divergence, the Lord Himself led me to make a conscious decision to remain on the path less traveled and that certainly made all the difference in my life.

I read in Psalm 14:2-3 that The LORD has looked down from heaven upon the sons of men To see if there are any who understand, Who seek after God. They have all turned aside, together they have become corrupt; There is no one who does good, not even one (Psa 14:2-3).

Romans says, Therefore (because righteousness comes by faith) no one will be declared righteous in God’s sight by the works of the law; rather through the law we become conscious of our sin (Rom 3:29). Romans goes on to describe how God reached down to save us because we could not save ourselves. He saved us by sending His perfectly righteous Son to take our punishment on the cross. He declares those righteous who by faith in His Son, receive His free gift of salvation. The Scriptures clearly declare only one way to God, only one way to walk in paths of righteousness—by His undeserved favor and a gift of faith in His Son’s redeeming blood.

The path of righteousness is not only hard, it’s humanly impossible! Attempting to ascend the narrow slope will crush my pride, strip away my filthy rags of self-righteousness, nail my prideful self-worship to the cross, peal my fingers from self-sufficiency, and remove the temporal pleasures of self-gratification. However, it also clothes me in the security of His righteousness, gives me personal significance by purchasing me with the highest price in the universe, grants me assurance of His all-sufficiency, and gives me overflowing satisfaction in a living, breathing relationship with Himself.

The grace that saves us is the same grace that empowers us. Paul says to the Galatian people, You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you?. . . I would like to learn just one thing from you: Did you receive the Spirit by the works of the law, or by believing what you heard? Are you so foolish? After beginning by means of the Spirit, are you now trying to finish by means of the flesh? (Gal 3:1-3).

Not only did God have to save us and give us faith to believe, but He also had to give us His Spirit to empower us to walk in paths of righteousness. All this just for the asking. He did it ALL. Our job is to humbly receive all He desires to give to us.

GOD’S BEST

Narrow the path the Savior leads,
Rough and steep the way,
And few are left to follow Him,
Day by day…by day.

Oh the regrets of those who choose
To follow the crowd’s strong flow,
For wide is the road leading down to death,
And many there be that go.

The harder path to snowy peaks,
Strengthens disciples’ quest,
Until on eagle’s wings they soar
And find God’s very best!

—MarJean S. Peters

NEEDING MY SOUL RESTORED while homeless, living in motels, and subsisting on my husband’s traveling sales job, I journaled this prayer years ago:

Dear LORD,
Precious little sleep last night. We got to listen to a bunch of drunks sing karaoke at the bar until after 2:00 a.m. from the restaurant next to this motel room. Then at 5:30 a.m. the recycling truck backed under our second story window to collect a seemingly endless supply of bottles and cans, not to mention the loading devices grinding and whining. Just when those irritations finally faded into the distance and I was clinging desperately to the hope of miraculously falling back to sleep, a garbage truck came to collect a week’s supply of motel and restaurant garbage.

Yet, LORD, You met me in those early morning hours and refreshed my spirit in Your Word. “Your compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness” (Lam 3:22-23). Now with the growing darkness comes weariness. Burdens feel heavier at night and seemingly insurmountable mountains loom on the horizon. Yet, Your sweet Spirit reminds me not to doubt in the darkness what You show me in the light. Your promise to care for us and go before us has not changed. When my soul feels too weary to go on and the night too dark to see what to do, “You will guide me with Your counsel, and afterward receive me to glory” (Psa 73:24). In chosen trust You restore my soul!

Now living in a large home with a viable ministry, I still need those quiet waters and my soul still needs restoring, especially as I grow older. This last month a wonderful ministry family honored us with an extended visit. Our quiet, organized home suddenly filled with iPod music, piano practice, homeschooling books, lots of clothes and shoes, stacks of extra food and dishes, laughter, playful shrieks, disagreements, hurt feelings, loud voices, and pounding feet.

If you happen to be a gramma, wear new hearing aids that amplify everything, or already tremor, you will get this: Today I’m in restoration mode! This morning I moved into God’s sweet presence where He challenged my soul and restored it in Psalm 37:3-8.

Here the Shepherd challenged me to embrace absolute, unequivocal, unwavering trust instead of allowing fear and anxiety to rule my heart. He restored me to serve others not because they earned or deserved it, but because He is love and uses all circumstances to conform me to His beautiful image.

He challenged me to love Him more deeply than I love myself or having my own way. He restored my soul to surrender all I am and have to Him, to delight in Him and receive from Him more than I could have imagined.

The Shepherd challenged me to pledge all I am and do for His present and eternal purposes. In so doing I am comforted to know He will take care of my reputation. I don’t need to concern myself with what people think of me or say about me because He will reveal the truth in His time.

Finally, He drew me to rest in who He is and to trust His character of love, wisdom and power. What other people do, say, or think is between them and God. I can walk in freedom. Anger and fretting only make matters worse. He restores me to let go of injustice, misunderstanding, wrongdoing, or heartache.

So He restores our languid souls again and again. Not just once or twice or even a hundred times, but for as long as we keep casting our cares on Him! He cares deeply for each of us. Please rejoice in His faithful provision together with me.

RESTORATION

Rest in Me, My precious child,
Rest in My arms of grace.
Rest now until I come for thee,
Until you see My face.

For then all things will be made clear,
My purpose shall be known,
And all the heartache that you bear,
Be jewels before My throne.

Rest now from all your anxious cares,
I shall make all things new;
These trials will not compare at all
With the glory revealed in you.

So brush away those winsome tears
For things you cannot understand,
Remembering your name is carved
Within My heart, upon My hand.

Lift up your voice, give praise to Me,
For I shall lead you through
Each day, each night, each war, each fight,
By grace, My strength delivers you.

Rest and wait now patiently,
For things not understood,
For in My time and by My grace,
I’ll work all things for good.

Come to Me and be restored,
I will your strength renew
To soar on eagles wings with praise
For what I’ve done in you.

©—MarJean S. Peters

Imagine a blue sky that stretches unrestrained to the horizon and cool green grass beneath our tired feet. Before us, still water perfectly reflects snow-capped mountains, forested hills, and blossoming trees. Slowly breathe in the fragrance of spring  and savor a banquet of tranquility.

Suddenly, a hot east wind blasts across our screen, churns up angry waves, flings blinding sand, and screams at us with fury! Our reverie breaks and gives way to harsh realities! Peace evaporates as do any reflections of beauty.

From where did that east wind come? Since God created us for relationship, internal storms generate from abandonment, betrayal, abuse, or criticism, which grow roots of insecurity deep within us. Though not always recognized or admitted, the subconscious never forgets the trauma of what should have been but was not, or what should not have been but was. The fall-out too often pronounces a life-sentence of unexplained anxiety and/or depression.

Rather than allowing God to lead us beside His still waters, we too often fill our loneliness, hurt, guilt, shame, sadness, or fears with a substitute. Artificial peace masks symptoms, but when it is withdrawn or powers down, the anxiety resurfaces with a vengeance. Long-term reliance on artificial tranquility weakens the mind’s emotional control gates so when drugs lose effectiveness over time “all hell can break loose”.

King David says, “Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts, And in the hidden part You will make me to know wisdom” (Psa. 51:6). God is able to expose and heal the roots of our anxiety. He may show us directly through His Word or indirectly through wise pastoral or licensed counselors, friends, or family as an engaging therapeutic community. God desires to heal us from the inside out. To simply mask our emotions with prescription drugs without applying God’s Word and engaging with a faith community, we face disaster.

The Shepherd leads us beside still waters because He knows moving water frightens sheep. Here he quiets our hearts so we can hear His “still small voice” (1Ki 19:12). He is “the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God” (2Cor 1:3-4).

Many times I find myself unable to sleep as my thoughts churn like waves before the wind, yet, when I cry out to my Lord, He rises and rebukes the wind, and says to the sea, “Peace, be still.” And the wind ceases, and there is a great calm (Mar 4:39). Many times anxiety overwhelms me in rising and crashing circumstances, yet His sweet Holy Spirit whispers into my soul, “Be still, MarJean, and know that I AM God” (Psa 46:10). And many times my heart rages at some injustice, some hope deferred, or some painful contusion, yet He stills and heals my heart as I intentionally seek conscious awareness of His Presence.

Oh how I love the picture of God hovering protectively over me, “In the shadow of Your wings I will make my refuge, until these calamities have passed by” (Ps 57:1). His Word purifies the heart’s motives and attitudes. Therefore, “I will meditate on the glorious splendor of Your majesty, And on your Your wondrous works” (Psa 145:5).

Only quiet waters reflect the beauty around them. The more our hearts reflect on His majestic beauty, the more our lives will reflect His character. HE is the fountain of living water, the Water of Life. HE is the Source—He alone can quench the thirst of our souls. Only HE can fill our aching hearts when we come to Him with nothing to offer but filthy rags.

Here He covers our nakedness in His pure, white robe of righteousness and carries us near His heart forever. He restores Eden within us. His peace stretches to the horizon and His faithfulness soothes our tired feet. His quietness within us perfectly reflects… HIM. Here we deeply breathe in His fragrance while our weary eyes close in peaceful trust.

WATER SONG

You give water in the desert,
Pools along the way,
Strength to climb the mountains
In the heat of day.
Mercy every morning,
Great Your faithfulness,
Love—unfailing, steadfast,
Praise the LORD, I am so blest!

When I think I can’t go on,
You hold me while I weep,
And fill me once again with hope
Even as I sleep.
Though I walk through shadows dark,
Your Word becomes my light,
And shows the path of righteousness
Through the darkest night.

Should I fear the enemy,
I call out to you, LORD,
And faith becomes a shield ‘round me,
Truth a two-edged sword.
Here I bow before You, LORD,
Amid earth’s pain and strife,
Your goodness and Your mercy flow
In and through my life.

—MarJean S. Peters

A small girl was late for Sunday school. She ran for all she was worth down the sidewalk. As she ran, she prayed, “Dear Lord, please don’t let me be late, please don’t let me be late!” Suddenly her foot caught an uneven place on the walk and down she went! She quickly got up, brushed off her dress and began running again, but at a slower pace. Her prayer continued, “Dear Lord, please don’t let me be late, but please don’t push!”

I know God doesn’t push. He doesn’t shove, he doesn’t even pull. Seventeen years ago I wrote this in my journal:

Actually there is someone I wouldn’t mind if You would push a little sometimes. He is about five foot ten, one hundred and sixty pounds, gray hair and beard. I have known him for the last thirty years and let me tell You, I really think he could at least use a nudge in the right direction. I know I’m usually “chomping at the bit” and I know this life-partner with whom You graced me has protected me time and time again from acting too quickly, too rashly.

Yet, this time, surely this time I think he could use a bit of speed to make a decision on what to do. It isn’t that I mind these days alone with You, Lord, or the writing I so love to do, but what kind of reputation do vagabonds have? Our neighbors, who surely watch the outcome of this drama, will think You abandoned us. Then there are my aging parents. Our gypsy life does not compute in their way of thinking. What about the imposition this puts upon our relatives who are storing our stuff?

Oh LORD, You never push or shove anyone, especially not Your sheep. You gently lead. Your sheep know Your voice so You don’t have to push them. You simply call them and they follow You. You know who belongs to You and You know them deeply, intimately. You know how to open ears to hear You. When it seems that a certain someone is not listening to You… maybe my voice drowns out Your voice… Now that’s a thought! Hm-m-m. As hard as that is to believe, I bring my thoughts to You for inspection. You lead… especially when I stop pushing. Maybe I need more faith before I stop pushing? Nope. I must trust Your wisdom and power. I must let You lead me.

What happens when we don’t follow God’s lead? Well…  Jesus said His sheep hear His voice and follow Him. If they go their own way, He pursues them, finds them, and brings them back to the fold… broken, bruised, and repentant. Amazing grace!

The seasons of our lives come and go. Even the Gospels record, “And it came to pass….” Seasons of hardship, disillusionment, discouragement, productivity, and waiting come, but they also pass. In time, somehow, we live through each seemingly insurmountable obstacle. They come to pass and another season enters. Truly, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens” (Ecc. 3:1). I wonder if we even realize how much God leads, protects, and provides throughout our lives.

A lot of ground is covered over a lifetime and a lot of water flows under the proverbial bridge. Yet God remains faithful. Never once does He ever leave or forsake His own. He always leads—out in front, night and day. He never pushes or shoves… but sometimes He carries. He leads us through the hard places but to higher pastures, cool streams, and still waters. Here He restores our souls, binds up our wounds, and refreshes us to follow Him still and again.

You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things and by your will they were created and have their being. Revelation 4:11.

HIS FOOTSTEPS

How strange the path His footsteps trod.
So different are the ways of God—
A manger bed, a cross, a tomb.
Who could have reasoned or presumed?

And who would follow One whose lead
Is through a desert place?
What kind of faith would follow
Just a promise of sufficient grace?

What kind of love would ask us
To believe what we can’t see?
But simply say, “Just follow,
I AM is leading thee.”

And who, prey tell, can follow One
Who rides on morning’s wings,
And dwells in depths of raging seas—
Uncharted paths of unseen things?

We only know that He is God.
We know He cannot lie.
We only know His nail-pierced hand,
Not where, or how, or why.

We only know “He leadeth me.”
We trust His Word—His voice.
We’ve chosen to embrace that light,
A settled, joyous, peaceful choice!

How strange the path His footsteps lead.
Our thoughts and plans they supersede.
Magnificent in wisdom—the eternal plan,
So far beyond the thoughts and ways of man.

—MarJean S. Peters

THE SAGEBRUSH AND BARREN HILLS of eastern Washington stretched in sharp contrast to the lush forested growth of our familiar and beloved western Oregon. Yet, the Lord cared for us that brown and barren winter—and for six winters, blossoming springs, hot summers, and balmy autumns. That first January, I felt comforted knowing that grass can’t come up brown; it must sprout green at some point. Sure enough, when canals opened in spring, irrigation became flumes of life across the hillsides. Wherever water flowed, hills greened with grass, grain, asparagus, mint, hops, vegetables, and fruit orchards. Without water, only tough sagebrush survived.

The Lord makes us lie down in green pastures but sometimes it feels like a long desert trek between those watered spots. Sometimes the hot sun and strong scent of sage dulls our ability to think clearly and we forget how faithfully He always provided every meal, every resting place, and every shelter. Sometimes we fear the rugged terrain. Yet, He goes before us and reminds us that our present circumstance only provides a passageway to an abundant pasture. He knows the way and He knows how best to get us there. We only need to keep our focus on Him, knowing He will give us abundantly above all we can ask or imagine if we trust and follow Him.

What exactly do sheep do when they lie down in a green pasture? Yes, they chew their cud. Sheep give us a great example to feed on God’s faithfulness. Psalm 37:3 says, “Trust in the LORD, and do good; dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.” We take in a fine meal from His word, find a quiet place to meditate on what we read, and allow its nutrients to strengthen our souls. Gorging on good food but never taking time to properly digest it could give us serious spiritual indigestion. Even small bites digested are better than gorging but never digesting. To lie down, means to stop. STOP. Stop and seriously think about what God has said. Never taking time-out to digest those morsels of truth leads to anxiety and frustration. In fact, Psalm 37: 8 says, “Do not fret—it only causes harm.”

Feeding on God’s faithfulness causes spiritual growth and strength. Jesus tells a story of a farmer who scatters seed on the ground in Mark 4:26-29. Night and day while the man is asleep or awake, the seed sprouts and grows, but he does not understand how it happens. So too, our growth and nourishment is something God does. We don’t understand it, but we can trust Him fully to do what we cannot do. Psalm 1 tells us that those who meditate on God’s Word day and night, will grow like trees planted by streams of water, which yields fruit in season, whose leaf does not wither, and whatever they do prospers.

So let’s take time to quiet our hearts and minds, allow His word to nourish our souls, and choose to trust and follow Him through desert times. We praise Him because He nourishes us in those quiet times, gives us water in the desert, pools along the way, strength to climb the mountains in the heat of day. He gives mercy every morning—great His faithfulness! His love—unfailing, steadfast, yes, praise the LORD, we are so blest!

COURAGE

Trek across the desert,
Dusty, hot and dry.
I wonder where He leads us
And I wonder why.
There is no path to follow,
No sign-posts mark the way,
Just endless sand and dried up brush
Day by day…by day.
Discouragement is nagging,
Mirages rise and fall.
Was Egypt worse than this?
Will death come to us all?
Where is food and water?
Is manna all we get?
Oh, this bread is wearisome
And we’re not there yet!
Suddenly slithering snakes appear.
Fiery venomous vipers!
Thankless grumblers falling
to consequential snipers.
O God! We’ve sinned against You!
With thanklessness and lust.
Please take away the Devil’s bite
before we turn to dust.
So Moses made a serpent
And put it on a pole
And all who gazed upon it
Were made well and whole.
A cross was raised to heaven
Where Jesus bore my sin.
I turn my eyes from selfishness
To gaze on Him.
Discouragement will lead
To believe the devil’s lie
That God will yet forsake me
When He promised to supply.
To green pastures He will lead me
And there I’ll meditate
In quiet peace and safety
To apply the Word I ate.
I humbly bow before Him now
To thank Him for His grace,
Thankful that He gives me
Strength and courage
To run this race.

—MarJean S. Peters

SUDDENLY, UNEXPECTEDLY, and out of the clear blue, everything he had believed in, fought for, and felt passionate about disintegrated into dust! He had been so sure he was right that it took a piercing heavenly light and God’s audible voice to open his spiritual sight. On his way to Damascus to find prisoners, that light from heaven flashed around him and a voice said to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” (Act 9:4) And he fell to the ground before the King of kings and Lord of lords.

How could something so dead wrong feel so dead right? Spiritual blindness does that. What guilt and shame must have coursed through his mind and heart after encountering the “I AM the Way, the Truth, and the Life”! Could he rejoice in now knowing the sick, self-righteous truth about himself?

When we look into the deepest recesses of our own hearts, do we rejoice in what we see? Do we really want to see the truth of what resides within us? Can we joyfully say, Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me… (Ps 139:23,24).

Poor, broken, sightless Saul! There he sat in his darkness, now knowing full well what he had done to the righteous Son of Almighty God! Did the steaming cloaks of those who stoned innocent Stephen now rise up to choke him? Did the screams of those being stoned now torment him? Did the sound of bloody lashes haunt him?

But then, the light that left scales on his physical eyes pierced his heart and opened it to the light of Jesus’ love and forgiveness. A light stronger than the dark power of guilt and shame. The scales fell off and he knew… he knew the truth and he rejoiced! That is why he could say to us, Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! (Phil 4:4) Though the truth brought him guilt and shame, it also opened his eyes to cleansing, forgiveness, love, and restored relationships with God and men.

Love involves both pain and joy. Before we can experience the fullness of joy, we must look inside and confess the ugliness that resides in here—jealousy, rage, doubt, unforgiveness, bitterness, selfish ambition, lust of the eyes, lust of the flesh, and the pride of life…  Only after we feel the pain and sorrow of our helpless inability to save ourselves can we rejoice in the precious blood of the Lamb that washes that ugliness away and purifies us from the inside out.

1John 1:7 says, “If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, His Son, purifies us from all sin.” THAT is reason to rejoice with the truth!

(The Love Chapter from 1 Corinthians 13 forms sixteen months of encouragement to our remote Alaskan missionaries. Each month Arctic Barnabas Ministries sends out Courage For Bush Ministry Women to encourage and strengthen these amazing women to remain faithful at their post in the harsh living and ministering conditions of the Arctic. Their ministry to the native people of Alaska must be a God-calling and God-staying power. My heart struggles each month as I seek God for words to bless their precious hearts.  I have six more months to finish up the love series for them and thought I’d share February’s thoughts with all of you today.)

ANY DISTURBANCE or intruder sends them into a panic! Sheep—obviously created to illustrate the nature of people, can run haphazardly into real danger when fearful or anxious. Sheep will not lie down unless they feel secure any more than people will peacefully rest in a big storm.

We experienced storms while living in the Pacific Northwest, but none compared to the faith-testing storms that eventually blew away everything we held dear and familiar. In that process, our small church in Seattle Microsoft country struggled and closed. That put us out of ministry and past our prime for the job market. Our last fledgling graduated and left the nest early because we had to sell our home. A sales job kept us on the road and motels became a new normal. We felt scattered—separated from our children, homeless, and without purpose. I identified with those fearful, nervous sheep. Day after day the future remained hidden with no assurance other than God’s promised presence. He made us “lie down,” made us have to wait… and in our waiting… He fed us. It took time to realize His intentions—simply to rest in Him, simply to trust Him with all our hearts and not lean to our own “sheeple” understanding.

The Prophet Ezekiel saw Israel scattered all over the earth like sheep. Yet God promised to shepherd and gather them back to settle securely into the land promised to their forefathers. Our Shepherd eventually brought us into a new land as well. We moved and settled into Alaska where we enjoyed the security of a good job, new friends, our children, grandchildren, and a new ministry identity.

Did I then shift my security from Christ alone to earthly success and material abundance? The panic I experienced when those earthly securities were threatened, proved I did indeed. Worst case scenarios plagued my imagination and I devised all kinds of ideas and plans to provide for ourselves. Then my Shepherd made me lie down; His still small voice breathed courage and hope into my heart once again.

Of course, God must use something to draw us back to Himself, something to make us aware of our complete inability to remain self-sufficient. Therefore, all the circumstances of our lives work together for that very purpose. Jesus not only shepherds us, but as the true Vine, He also sustains us. So we move from being stupid, frightened sheep to grape racks drawing nourishment from that Vine. That way the fruit of God’s Holy Spirit flows through us to encourage and strengthen others—making us interdependent together with them—again God’s intention.

How does a sheep morph into a branch? Why does God mix metaphors like that? Maybe because being “born-again” doesn’t just fix up the old, it makes us into something entirely different. Paul tells us, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new (2Co 5:17). This “new creation” rests in the peace and safety of secure attachment to the Vine.

Storms still come to test and strengthen our faith, some unproductive branches must be pruned—lifted up or cut off to conform us to the character of Jesus. God makes us lie down so we will rest from our own striving, our own self-protection, our own works. He wants us to embrace what He has already done for us, is doing in us, and will do through us.

Becoming aware of our limitations and helplessness in these storms make us lie down our self-sufficiency so we can rest in His power. Obscurity and futility make us lie down our self-worship so we and others will worship only Him. Life’s imperfections and flux make us lie down our self-righteousness so He can exchange our filthy rags for His own absolute purity. When we can no longer medicate our pain and conflict with self-gratification, we lay it down and God will make known to us the path of life and fill us with joy in His presence, with eternal pleasures at His right hand (Psa 16:11).

Deep breath. . . release. . . rest.

RESTING

Tonight my spirit
Is as a babe
Wrapped ‘round
In the warm, soft, white folds
Of His righteousness.
The everlasting arms
Hold me close
As His peace
Seeps into my conscious mind,
Lovingly, lulling me to sleep.
All the struggles and pains
Of the day
Are forgotten
As the joy of His love
Melts away everything
But the remembrance
Of His gentle care.
Through the night I rest,
So deeply embedded
In His love.

©MarJean S. Peters

Hunger gnawed as I attempted to shed a few pounds instead of gaining them during weeks of inactivity in motels. My eyes scanned the room—scratched nightstands held orange, sixties-something lamps obliging both sides of the bed. As I wrote, I leaned against a faded orange vinyl headboard facing an intrusive television hulking upon a dark bureau. Two vinyl chairs addressed a small, scuffed table near an ironing board that waited against a blank wall for my husband’s white shirts. I no longer smelled the old motel odor that greeted us when we first arrived because we had since amalgamated with it. Engines rumbled outside and traffic lights flashed. Airplanes roared overhead and commercial buildings broke the horizon.

I shall not want? But, I DID want! I wanted a steak dinner with dessert. I wanted my own beautiful home—a two-story complete with guest rooms and a fireplace. I wanted a home near our children, grandchildren, friends, and relatives. I wanted my husband home in the evenings, content in his work and ministry. I wanted to write books and publish them. I did NOT want to live in motels, my husband’s on-the-road job, an empty nest, my children 2,000 miles away, lack of purpose, ministry, a church home, homelessness, or loneliness.

I stood before the Shepherd of life and poured out all my wants to Him. Brokenly, I released them one by one. I had to acknowledge Him as God, that He is love, and He is wise. A small child’s rendition of “The Lord is my shepherd, that’s all I want” came to mind and I yearned for the faith of a child—so completely satisfied in Him that I too could misquote this verse and say, “You are all I want.”

In this quietness, with no one to talk to but the Lord, He unexpectedly fed my soul. I began to write my way through the twenty-third Psalm day after day—there in that smelly, ugly, lonely, and painful place. He met me there and breathed life into each word, each phrase until I no longer noticed my physical surroundings or focused on our life changes. His words so delighted my soul that He became enough, more than enough for all my wanting.

Over the years, God not only continued as the object and provision of all my wanting, but I enjoyed steak dinners on occasion, came to own a beautiful, two-story home complete with three guest rooms, a fireplace and woodstove, all near all our children and grandchildren. He provided friends and family, a church, a ministry, and many evenings with my husband. I’m still writing and just celebrated ten years of publishing our mission’s Courage for Bush Ministry Women magazine.

The point being: He is enough without all the rest of the stuff. But once we find the real thing in our relationship with Him, He often lavishes us with the other things as well, just like Jesus said to us, “Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matt 6:33).

PRIORITIES

I pray in bitterness of heart
For things I’ve prayed so long
And I wonder why I bother
When things keep going wrong.
Each idea, thing or person
I have clutched in fond embrace
Has faded, died or broken
Before my hopeful face.
And with each disappointment
A part of me has died.
The part that wants and wills and cries
When things are so denied.
I’ve thought and planned—imagined,
What life should hold for me,
Yet Proverbs says, man plans his course
But God says what shall be.
A God whose love is infinite,
Whose wisdom far exceeds
The thought or plan of finite man,
So helpless to succeed.
A God who asks that I would trust
His perfect love and grace
To guide my way, supply my need
Until I see His face.
And so I bow before You, LORD,
A child now weaned and still
Because I choose to put my trust
In the One who will fulfill.
The One who works all things for good
For those who love Him so,
Will bring His purposes to light
In those He calls to grow.
Have ideas, things or people,
Now lost from fond embrace,
Been dearer to my heart
Than the sweetness of Your face?
O LORD, please cleanse my heart,
My first love You shall stay.
Please give me eyes to find Your grace,
To walk the narrow way.
Perhaps my disappointments
Were meant to set me free
To love and trust an awesome God
And from living selfishly.
©—MarJean S. Peters