Receiving the Promise
11 May 2012 Leave a Comment
David was anointed to be the King of Israel when he was a young boy. The promise of his destiny and his reign was etched into his life from his youth and carried for years of disappointment, frustration, and confusion.
I wonder how David must have felt when the prophet Samuel came to the house of Jessie looking for a man to anoint as king. By-passing all of David’s older brothers, Samuel was instructed by the Lord to anoint David, the youngest, the shepherd to be the king even as Saul, the current King of Israel was still reigning. I am sure it didn’t make sense to David to be chosen, but it was probably also very exciting to think that this Promise of Destiny would be his.
If David was anything like me, he probably daydreamed about his days as King. He probably imagined the pomp and fanfare he would experience on his coronation day. He might have imagined life in a palace and life of ease and power. Maybe he saw himself pronouncing lofty and powerful edicts. Yes, life as a king would be magical, powerful, and beautiful. When God makes a promise after all, it should come to pass with ease, be fraught with honor, blessing, and approval, and happen without human effort. Right?
So I wonder then, how David felt after years of running for his life as a jealous King Saul pursued him to kill him. Watching the nation of Israel divide into two kingdoms under a selfish King Saul must have frustrated him as he knew he could keep the kingdom together if only given the chance. How did it feel to defeat Israel’s enemies, the Philistines, only to be then be hunted by the King whose life you preserved? What kind of promise was this that God gave David?
It was after David had grown to adulthood, when he was thirty and after he had married and began raising sons that David received the Promise from God of kingship. In 2nd Samuel 2 we read about David’s first step into the kingdom when the tribe of Judah anointed him to be their king after Saul’s death. It wasn’t the whole nation of Israel that anointed David, just the tribe of Judah. From there we read about bloody civil wars between the house of David and the house of Saul. The tribes of Israel fought against David to defeat him, but David succeeded in winning the battles. Chapter 3 of 2nd Samuel tells us that the war between the house of Saul and the house of David lasted a long time. David increased in strength and power while the house of Saul was weakened. He reigned as king of Judah for seven and a half years.
David received his promise through battle, war, frustration, disappointment, anger, and persistence. He was finally anointed King over all of Israel, but then had to conquer the seat of his kingdom, Jerusalem, by conquering the Jebusites that lived there. God empowered David. God established David, and God was with David giving him victory over his enemies and favor with the Israel, but it came with work, with war, with pain, and ultimately with victory.
I hear so many messages about God’s promises and how they are supposed to look and act. They are supposed to come easy and with little or no effort on our part, and admittedly, I have seen God’s promises come about this way maybe only a handful of times. He performs miracles, make no mistake about that, that bypass our wisdom or best ideas, and He brings things into existence that were not previously known or grasped. More often than not, however, I have watched God bring His promises to pass through the persistence and faithfulness of people who refused to give up. I’ve seen people with promises from God persevere through the darkest of circumstances–sometimes fully confused and discouraged, but still putting one foot in front of the other.
Many who have received God’s promise, did so after watching those same blessings fall on someone else with ease, while they themselves struggle to maintain faith. Many who have received God’s promises to them discovered that what God was to give them looked nothing like what they had previously imagined, yet looking back, God’s hand is seen guiding the entire process. The point is, God’s promises will come!
When you get discouraged that your life is not where you expected it to be, or you haven’t succeeded in the areas of life that you thought you would thrive in, I want you to remember David. I want you to reflect on the conflicts of your life, and the trials you passed through to receive the promise. Look back at the lessons you have learned and the faith you are developing. Treat your today like another lesson in reigning as a king, and pray for wisdom to retain what you learn. Then, when God gives you the kingdom, and establishes your “throne”, it will be said of you, “_________was a man/woman after God’s own heart”.
Maybe what you were promised seems far from your view today. Maybe you are hiding out in fear that what God has said will not come to pass. Maybe you want to give up and throw in the towel on your faith and in God himself. May I encourage you today that nothing of your life is wasted. God uses every day, every experience, every mistake, and every victory to shape you and bring you into what He has promised. Nothing is lost in God’s hands, and nothing is wasted in His plans. Keep walking. Keep trusting. Keep growing. Keep believing. You are the one God has chosen.
Isaiah 55:11
New International Version (NIV)
11 so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
Own Your Hunger
25 Mar 2012 2 Comments
in Life Applications, Truth Transformations Tags: hunger, revival
Some dear friends of ours who were missionaries in Papua New Guinea for over 30 years were sharing a story with us one day about some of the frustrations they had in the village where they served. These friends were sent by New Tribes Missions, into a small village in a remote part of the country where the gospel had not yet been heard. Their job was to learn the language of the people and then translate the Bible into that language and find ways to present the gospel to them in a way they could understand. This particular tribe was a tribe of hunters and gatherers who lived day to day on the meat they trapped, or hunted, and on the herbs or trees that they collected that day or that week.
Seeing the need for sustainable food for these people, my friends began to order corn seed from their mission station to be delivered to them in the village where they could plant it and teach the people to plant, tend and harvest their own vegetables or produce. And so it began, the missionaries placed the seed in the ground, watered it, weeded it, fertilized it and produced a crop of corn with enough of it’s own seed to be used in the next planting. It was a fantastic idea that they brought to the field, that sadly died in the field.
Here’s what happened: They would teach the people to plant the seeds in the ground, but in this harvesting/gathering culture, there wasn’t time or attention given to the seedlings to be sure they grew. The gardens were unattended during the days and nights and the wild pigs would come in and root up anything that thought about growing, eat it and leave the garden destroyed. The plants that would miraculously survive and grow into full ears of corn were consumed immediately and none of the seed set aside to plant again. So, the locals would return to the missionaries on a regular basis asking for more seed to plant since theirs was consumed.
I remember hearing the story and thinking, “Why in the world didn’t the people catch on to the fact that they needed a sustainable food supply?” It seemed logical to me that they should apply themselves to planting and farming, but alas, my 20/20 vision here would prove to be fuzzy in another area of life where I live….
Now travel to my continent and visit the churches where my culture and generation go to worship. You will see the same frustration on the faces of the pastors and workers as you would have seen on my missionary friends. Week after week, year after year, many of these pastors and leaders labor over the scriptures. Gleaning insight and wisdom, nurturing faith, and applying truths they have learned, many pastors will devote over 30 hours to the one sermon they will prepare on Sunday morning. Within the study and presentation of the message will be enough “seed” to plant and grow for a lifetime and certainly enough to feed one for a week of time. But the same problem persists. Our culture doesn’t know what to do with the seed. There isn’t any time devoted to nurturing the seed or be sure it is growing properly. Our busy, hectic schedules find us running constantly and leaving our spiritual life at the mercy of the elements and our enemy. While we are out hunting and gathering possessions, positions, and reputation, our spiritual gardens wither and die off. We don’t put fences or boundaries around our spiritual lives; but instead we allow them to be opened up to whatever wild hog happens to be running through. Sometimes that wild hog will be the movies we watch or the company we keep. Our sustainable life is consumed before we know it.
Then there is Sunday when we run back to our churches and places of worship and say “Feed me! That last seed didn’t take, and we are hungry! Not only that, but we have children too and they need fed.” It’s common to hear Christians say that their church just doesn’t feed them or meet their spiritual needs, or that it would be a better church if it had better programs for their children, or their teenagers. The problem, however, often lies in the lifestyle of we who come hungry. Are we feeding ourselves throughout the week? Are we feeding and nurturing our own children? Are we tending our own spiritual lives, or leaving them unattended?
I hear so much talk of revival, and honestly the “talk” part has worn me out. Who will actually own their own hunger? That’s my question. If we are really hungry for the things of God, then why aren’t we planting, nurturing, and tending our own spiritual life? If we are desiring more of God, why aren’t we looking for Him or seeking Him faithfully with our free time? If we want victory over our addictions and sins, why aren’t we inviting accountability into our lives and doing the hard work of repentance and changing? Why does our garden look like it’s been ransacked by hogs? Where is the seed to get us through tomorrow and our children through their childhood? Doesn’t revival start in our heart and then work it’s way out from there? And if our churches aren’t meeting all of our hungers and needs, isn’t there a way that we can bring into our live the kind of prayer partners that will pray with us and encourage us on this path to revival? What exactly do we need?
Why do we ask Him for revival when we are not willing to take steps of repentance? Why should our churches make the worship longer or the prayer times more frequent, if we have no plans to cultivate that part of our lives throughout the week and watch it take root? Why should we desire better programs for our children, when we intend to let them watch ungodly movies and tv shows, surf the internet unattended, and play games we have never screened nor plan to pay attention to? What is the sense in that?
My point is this, revival will happen when we own our own hunger. When we really sincerely believe that our spiritual life and the lives of our children are worth protecting, nurturing, cultivating, and continuing. Revival’s earmarks will be repentance, accountability, prayer, study, and love for one another on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Instead of wild hogs running through our lives on the weekends, you will see us tending our fences and teaching our children. The Holy Spirit will have so much to work with because we will have finally turned our lives over to this Jesus that we call “Lord”. Instead of one pastor growing a garden to feed a village, the village will grow the gardens that feed the world. That’s how the gospel is spread. That is how the gospel is enjoyed.
If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. 2Chronicles 7:14
Evacuation
10 Mar 2012 Leave a Comment
I was thinking today about another story from my life here in Alaska and thought I would add it to the “My Life in Chapters” portion of my blog site. I hope you enjoy.
I was nine months pregnant and one week away from my due date with our third child in May of 2002. We lived in a little unfinished house that we were building “out-of-pocket” little by little every year on seven acres in Anchor Point, Alaska. The house was built with our own unique designs and characteristics, and one of those being that the Master Bedroom was on the upper level of the house accessible only by a ladder. The idea was to eventually replace the ladder with a spiral staircase, but until then we climbed that ladder several times a day. In our arctic entryway, we had a “hatch” in the floor that would open up to a little storage area where we threw our gloves and hats, and shoes we weren’t presently wearing. The house itself sat atop cement pilings and was skirted in with plywood with access underneath that you entered from a door on the outside of the skirting.
I had spent many days under the house in that crawl space during winters when my husband was working away. When the temperatures dipped low, our pipes would sometimes freeze, and so I would crawl under the house with a Buddy diesel fired heater and blow the heat in the direction of the pipes until they thawed. This was also our storage area for things that wouldn’t fit in the little 880 square foot house.
It was a sunny day as I recall, and my first-born, Bethany was with my friend Melanie who had taken them to the Anchor Point Fire station for a “bike rodeo” where they taught bicycle safety, gave out helmets, and held a raffle to give some bikes away. Jamin and I were at home with our son Jaron who was two when our neighbor stopped in to warn us that a fire that a neighbor had started to burn up brush was out of control and could very well head our direction. Upon hearing about the fire, my husband Jamin dressed to go and help to fight the fire with our neighbor.
Meanwhile, at the Bike Rodeo, the dispatcher received a call about a brush fire out of control on our road, and the Rodeo was quickly dispersed so that volunteer fire fighters could jump in their trucks to respond. My friend Melanie took Bethany, and headed our direction. She stopped in to our home and offered to take Jaron for the afternoon in the event that we needed to evacuate and I agreed that would be a great idea.
I had never thought about what I wanted to save the most in my home if there were a fire. I began to think about some changes of clothes, favorite blankets, pictures….oh and the taxes….I still needed to file the taxes for that year and so I didn’t want to lose that paperwork. I made my way upstairs and began going through drawers and boxes and packing up things of value. Suddenly I heard a commotion downstairs that was unfamiliar, and so I stuck my head down the hole that was the entry to my room to see two more of my neighbors detaching my washer and dryer from the wall in the entry and loading it up on a trailer in the driveway. This was followed by another neighbor who began unpacking my kitchen and putting everything into large garbage cans and carting them out of the house.
“The fire is headed your way,” my neighbor Ron Tavera said, as he quickly and decisively disconnected my appliances and hauled them out of our house. Suddenly the situation became very serious to me, and I realized I needed to move faster. I grabbed laundry baskets and filled them with everything I thought was valuable to the family and handed them down the hole to the neighbors. Then I ventured down the ladder to see someone unloading my dirty dishes from the dishwasher and packing them away. I remembered Jamin’s snowboards under the house, and some of our storage items, so I hustled outside to the crawlspace and spent the next several minutes crawling around pulling things out from under the house and carrying them outside to be loaded in yet another trailer brought by another neighbor. Soon our pastor showed up and he and his wife began unpacking our home.
From my windows I could see flames shooting up above the tall spruce trees and it looked like it wouldn’t be long before they were licking up the trees on our heavily tree populated acreage. We all moved faster. Our home had no insurance. We had been building it ourselves and used every available penny to complete it.
The wind changed and moved the fire north-east of our home, jumping the creek that divided our property from a 40 acre parcel and began devouring that land across the creek from us. From my living room windows I could clearly see the fire sweeping its way across the landscape. Fire Jumpers were flown in to combat and contain the fire and they called in C-130′s to drop orange retardant on the flames. The volunteer fire department was joined by many neighbors. From my now nearly empty home I could see it all.
My home had been completely evacuated of possessions in a matter of three hours. All that is, except for the love seat in the living room that I asked the neighbors to leave to burn. It was broken and I didn’t mind if it went. Upon the command of my neighbor Frank, a retired Fire Chief from Sacramento, I laid down on that love seat for a few minutes while he assessed my pulse and blood pressure. I was red from all of my hustling, out of breath, and still running on adrenaline.
“Your blood pressure is too high, Cate.” Frank said. ”You need to get to the hospital, because you have a baby to consider.”
Our driveway and yard had become the gathering place for many neighbors, and the volunteer ambulance was down the road ready to give assistance to the fire fighters. They called the ambulance into our driveway and I realized I had no shoes to wear to go out to meet it. Remembering the hatch in the entryway, I opened it up to find that there were still a few things in there. I grabbed a pair of heeled dress shoes, put them on and pranced out the door. The EMT’s checked my vitals and agreed that I needed to get to the hospital, but they thought if I could find a ride in that would be better since they needed to stay there to tend the emergent needs of the fire fighters. Not a problem, there were many neighbors in my house now and so Bryan and Wilma Epley agreed to drive me into the hospital.
I left the scene not knowing where Jamin was. I was having contractions and feeling still charged up on adrenaline when I arrived at South Peninsula Hospital. My mid-wife was called in to check on me and I was placed in a hospital birthing room in the event my labor would progress.
Sometime after I left, Jamin returned home –dirty and covered in soot. He entered the house to find it completely empty. ”Where is everything?” he asked. The neighbors filled him in on the recent evacuation of our things and assured him that our possessions were safe and sound in the back of trucks and trailers that were hauled across the road.
“Your wife went to the hospital.” Frank told him.
“Oh, really?” Jamin asked. ”At least something good could come of this day.” He was thinking about the fact that our son might be born that day.
“No, her blood pressure was sky-high and she was overheated.” Frank responded.
“I’d better get to the hospital then.” Jamin said.
Jamin went to the bathroom to wash up only to find the soap was gone. He went upstairs to find clothes to change into only to find the bedroom bare. Realizing he would have to just go the way he was, he returned downstairs.
“Has anyone seen my car keys?” Jamin asked looking around.
“If they were on the counter, they went out with the first load in a large garbage can that is now across the road.” replied Ron.
Another neighbor volunteered their car to Jamin and he gratefully got in and drove the 20 miles in to the hospital to meet me.
Jamin was filthy when he entered the hospital. He rushed in to where I was to check on my status and finding me fine, we began to exchange stories of the past four hours. I told him of the neighbors coming and evacuating the house and he told me of the shock and surprise he found when he climbed up the hill to our house after helping with the fire and seeing so many people gathered in our yard, then entering our house only to find it completely empty.
“There wasn’t even toilet paper on the toilet paper roll, Cate.” He recounted. ”My keys were gone, all the clothes were gone, and there wasn’t even soap at the sink to wash up with.”
We laughed and sighed as we realized what we could have lost if not for our wonderful neighbors.
My mid-wife monitored my contractions and helped me get re-hydrated. After a couple of hours, she said, “Cate, it doesn’t look like these contractions are going to develop into labor. My best advice to you is to go home and rest for the night and see if anything further develops. Most likely, your contractions were brought on by exertion, but will settle down as you rest. Call me if they don’t.”
Jamin and I looked at each other…”Home??” we said in unison.
The fire missed our home that day, and thankfully was contained before it could destroy any other houses. It was a historic and memorable event that we and our neighbors will never forget.
Jamin and I left the hospital and headed home. We then began the process of moving back into our house, and what took us three hours to empty took us two days to restore. Still our third child waited until his due date to come, and one week later on May 28th, Chad Jamin was born.
What is a Woman?
08 Mar 2012 Leave a Comment
in Deep Thoughts, Life Applications Tags: androgyny, female, feminine, gender neutral, Image of God, International Women's Day, male and female, role distinctions
A letter to women….
There are thousands if not tens of thousands of different cultures in the world today. Shaping those cultures are ideas and belief systems. Many of the belief systems revolve around a religion or a world view–the lens through which we view the world. If I make culture my starting point in defining a woman I am going to come away with multiple answers as to her worth and value. Each culture will define her differently and some will not even give her honorable mention. So what is a woman? Is she human? Is she valuable? Is she competent? Is she necessary? Is she a product of ideas and ideals thrust upon her by her culture?
I began studying this subject after picking up a book called “Nurturing the Nations” by Darrow Miller. The book was written to bring attention to the war on women, girls, and femininity around the world. The book expressed the various crimes against women that are allowed, propagated, and encouraged in the cultures where they live. This war is not recognized or understood, however, if the meaning of the word “woman” is not defined and understood, and therein lies the problem that generates and perpetuates the loss of womanhood.
Speaking only from the lens of my culture, I can tell you that the term “woman” is quite often just a tag applied to those who want to wear it. My culture has done its best to remove biology, physiology, from reality and began a de-sexualizing of culture through the scalpel of language. Sex distinctions between male and female are now labeled “gender” which is a rather loose term applied to anyone who has surgery to change their sexual anatomy. We are trying so hard to become gender neutral without realizing what that will cost us.
Gender neutrality is rooted in a philosophy called “androgyny” which allows gender to be constructed or deconstructed by the culture it lives in. It is affected by fad, fantasy, and celebrity stunts. Androgyny denies any inherent meaning or significance to physical bodies or sexuality, therefore eliminating the biological differences and role distinctions between the sexes. In a sense, each individual is a sexual blank slate to be written on with any pen or carved with any scalpel. Androgyny teaches a “sameness” in the sexes by blurring or removing any lines of distinction
My culture will celebrate “International Women’s Day”. We celebrate the right to vote, the right to have jobs in the market place with equal pay. We have equal rights, and a voice that is heard in our government. Simultaneously, however, my “Feminist” culture will tell women that only masculine characteristics are valued. A woman who bears children, nurses them, or stays home to care for them is seen as a woman who has not yet realized her intellectual potential. She is pitied as one who needs to assert herself and “take her place” in society. Children are seen as baggage that slow down her progress, and even marriage and commitment are viewed as attachments that will inevitably bring her demise. In doing this, gender neutrality, as perpetrated by my culture, kills womanhood by strangling some of her greatest strengths and influence in an effort to look strong.
The Bible says that in the beginning God created mankind both male and female. When He was done, He said that what He had accomplished was good. He made them equal in being, and value, but distinctly different in form, strengths, and roles. He gave both man and woman the mandate to subdue the earth. It was a team effort that would not succeed without both sexes working together. (Genesis 1:26-31) If the man could have done it alone, God would not have needed Eve. Eve was created to be the counterpart for the man. She was fully equipped as a woman to be fully human, and fully alive possessing strengths that Adam would need. God said that all of this was good. Male and female working together in varying roles now reflected fully the Glory of God. Through the sexes of man and woman, the world would see God’s provision, strength, nurturing, patience, mercy, ambition, creativity, power, love and justice.
As we reflect on women of influence today, this “International Women’s Day”, remember that who you are is by design. You have great influence. The Master Craftsman thought out every part of your being and created you in His image to be the sex that you are to reflect His glory. To sacrifice your gender or any part of your inherent characteristics would be a devastating loss to humanity and a diminishing of God’s glory reflected here on earth. You are necessary, you are valuable, you are designed on purpose to reflect the Glory and image of God to a hurt and broken world. You have a purpose to fulfill and a world to change and God will give you the courage to meet that challenge using all of your femininity empowered by His Spirit whether it be in the marketplace or in your homes and communities.
Today, I celebrate you!
Radio Interview
02 Mar 2012 Leave a Comment
in Music Tags: Alaska Adventure Radio, Black Water Bend Espresso, Cate Morris, Chris Story, Homer Alaska, Red Sky
A few weeks ago I was invited by Chris Story to his radio program “Alaska Adventure Radio” to talk about my new album “Red Sky“. It was a fun interview that I enjoyed immensely with a very entertaining host!
I live in Homer, Alaska so this program showcases the local flare.
Blessings to you!!
Cate
Three Dangerous Words
23 Feb 2012 1 Comment
in Life Applications, Truth Transformations Tags: "I Don't Care", alcohol bottle, direct proportion, It hurts to grow, painful consequences
I know we get tired and we want to give up. I know that pain gets “old” and like rocks in our shoes rubs, cuts, and callouses. No one wants to hurt. No one wants to experience pain. The truth is that all of our lives are bent towards pain. It hurts to stay stuck and it hurts to grow. Our choices then rest in which pain we will choose.
I blogged on this subject some before in my article “When It’s Too Much” where I talked about our ability to feel and experience and feel pain is in direct proportion to our ability to give and receive love. Somehow this paradox opens us, enlarges us, and gives us a greater capacity to embrace one another and embrace the God who made us. True also is the fatigue and overwhelming feeling of pain that we cannot control. Tragedies, choices of others, disease, and prolonged hope all work against our will to continue on. The most dangerous words we can say when this happens are these three: ”I don’t care.”
“I don’t care” is often the phrase you say before you pick up the alcohol bottle and drown your sorrows. It is heard before someone chooses adultery in a marriage. If not spoken out loud, it is in the mind of the one who fills their hand with sleeping pills and swallows them down quickly. It’s on the lips of the one who despite the danger, ventures out into behavior that will reap deadly or painful consequences. I’ve heard these words over and over. I myself am guilty of saying them.
To stop caring is to shut the door of growth and change. To stop caring is to cut off your legs and believe you will sail through life unchallenged. You just cannot afford to not care. ”But Cate,” you say, “If I say I care then it will require something of me.” You are right. Even if the pain or trouble you are facing is not your fault, you have responsibilities as well as options in your control to make a change and choose the path of pain that leads to growth, and yes, hope.
It’s our “I don’t care” attitude that gets us into messes, and it will be our “I choose to care” attitude that will begin the walk out of it. Take your choice to care, bathe it in prayer, ask the Holy Spirit to help you, and start walking in the direction of change. Call on others to pray for you and encourage you when it gets too hard or too painful. Live a life of accountability where someone knows your “flight plan” and holds you to it.
Not everything I choose to care about will change just because I cared, but I can guarantee that I will have changed by the process of pain and discomfort that caring brings me through. And if caring inspires faith and hope in another, I am living most like my Father in heaven who “…so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes on Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16) God cared enough for you and me to experience a pain that would forever change us and leave Him with permanent scars and reminders of the price He paid. Remember, pain has an expiration date, but love goes on and on into eternity. Choose the pain of growth and hope.
Photo by Chuck Skeek
Uzzah, David and Me
08 Feb 2012 1 Comment
in Deep Thoughts, Life Applications, Truth Transformations Tags: David, Doing it God's way, The Ark of the Covenant, touching the Ark, Uzzah
“It’s the thought that counts.”
That is often the phrase I fall back on when I attempt something with good motives only to find it fell short of it’s expected goal or crashed altogether. My intentions are what I want people to see even if the outcome was not favorable. Motive and intent are huge pieces of the puzzle that explain the why and the what of all we do. So can I possibly do something with good motives and intentions that can be very wrong? That is the question I want to delve into as we look at a passage of scripture from 1 Chronicles 13.
Many of you have read this story. You will find it in two places in scripture. The first place is 2 Samuel 6, and then here in 1 Chronicles where we have a little more insight into the story. The narrative speaks of David, who has recently been crowned king over Israel, coming up with a brilliant plan to bring back to Israel the Ark of the Covenant of God that had been stolen by the Philistines during the reign of Saul. David’s intent was to restore the glory of God to the people of Israel, and to show once again that God reigned over His people and was present with them. Verses 1-4 of Chapter 13 show us David’s idea and how he communicated it to the people, with verse 4 telling us that “The whole assembly agreed to do this, because it seemed right to all the people.” David’s motives and intent were understood by the people as being right and pure and in keeping with their convictions, so the plan proceeded.
Here is where the story becomes full of energy. There is such excitement about going to get the ark, that people make a parade out of it with music, dancing, and celebrating. They built a brand new cart to transport the Ark on, so that it would look magnificent as it wound its way “home”. This was supposed to be a festive, God-honoring event, but something happened: One of the oxen pulling the new cart stumbled and the cart began to tip. Uzzah a man with good intentions reached out to steady the Ark, and instantly was struck dead. The parade came to a dumbfounded and sorrowful halt as the realization of Uzzah’s death settled on each of them. Confused, hurt, afraid and angry, David asks the question, “How can I ever bring the Ark of God to me?”
God seems so unfair. So unpredictable. He seems to make goals unattainable, and consequences dire. He is unjust if we leave the story right here. Sadly, many people do leave the story right here. But let’s press on further.
David is angry and hurt, but David takes that pain to God and inquires of God about the reason for Uzzah’s death, and what David discovers is the lesson that I need to remember. David finds out that God had a prescribed method for transporting the Ark of the Covenant and it did not involve carts, or exhibition. God takes David back to His instructions from Numbers chapter 4 where the specific, detailed instructions of Ark transport were recorded. The Ark was only to ever be transported by the priests of the Levitical clan. They were to wrap the ark in the shielding curtain of the Tabernacle, then cover that with the hides of seals, then put the transporting poles into the rings attached to the side of the Ark. After that was completed, they were to wrap all of that in a blue cloth. (Numbers 4) Never at anytime were they to touch the Ark, or have anyone else come near it. As David inquires of the Lord, he realizes something: God is always right and just.
David has a choice in his anger to do several things: 1. he can justify himself and his motives and accuse God of being cruel; 2. he can run from God and choose to no longer try to attempt anything for God’s glory; and 3. he can re-calibrate his heart to God’s desires and designs. David chooses to align his will with God’s. We see this in verses 11-13 of 1 Chronicles 15. David recognized that God had already given instructions on this issue, and David’s sin was that he did not inquire of God about those instructions. David repented, did it God’s way, and succeeded and bringing the Ark back to Israel.
So how does this story apply to you and me?
We have a host of scriptures that give us instruction on many areas of our lives. Without gray areas or shadows, God gives us His intents and His design for much of our life. Somehow or another, however, we allow ourselves the ideas that God is all about our happiness. We let this idea rule our decisions. We think, of course God would be okay with this because it doesn’t hurt anyone else, and it makes me happy. This idea is a costly one. If I disregard what God has already said in order to accommodate my desires, I have become the plumb line that God must adjust to. He is now on my terms. Interesting to note, however is the fact that God does not regard my standards as His. Like Uzzah, I can reach out with good intentions to do what seems right at the moment, but if it is something I have already been instructed about, I cannot accuse God of being unfair when He keeps His word and I suffer consequences.
My prayer is to be like David, who when confronted by his sin, changed his direction, re-calibrated his heart and intentions with God’s desires, and saw the fulfillment of his dreams doing it God’s way. God will not always bless what we are doing, but we are always invited to “do” what God is blessing.
So in every decision, ask the question: ”Has God already spoken about this issue? What did He say?”
**My thanks to my Pastor Rick Wise for teaching on this subject and giving me God’s perspective.”
No More Excuses
04 Feb 2012 5 Comments
in Life Applications, Morris Family Adventures Tags: changing, excuses, organization, Sidetracked Home Executives
I have to admit that I am not a believer in New Year’s resolutions. I figure if I didn’t have the ambition to do it in July, I won’t have the ambition to do it in January; besides I have so much life change that happens in my life on an almost monthly basis, that I don’t ever feel the need to change with any kind of deliberation. Does this sound like an excuse? Well, it is. Believe me I have a quite a list of excuses that I have collected and added to. All of them have validity, and some I am more adamant about than others. I especially like the excuse “I am a creative person. Creative people don’t think like that.” Well, my excuse list is expiring and this girl is learning to change.
There was this “nudging” from my husband….well okay, sixteen years of pleading, for me to become more organized. I usually met his pleadings with “You knew I was like this when you married me. It isn’t even in my genetic make-up.” (Excuses #27 and #32 respectively).
I’ve made several attempts at organization and honestly, I have made huge strides, but not at a consistent tempo. Four children, one dog, and 12 or so moves later, I realized that we need a consistent tempo of order and cleanliness, and somehow I am supposed to be the one to lead it.
Coinciding with this pleading, has been a conviction from the Holy Spirit as He has been dealing with my heart in the areas of home management. My personality, and make-up could no longer be my excuses for my lack of change, because I am supposed to be able to “do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13) But of course, I only want to be strengthened to do the things that I like. 
So, realizing my need for some instruction in this area of life, I began talking to friends and asking for input. I needed ideas, systems, help, and even someone to come help me tackle the hard things.
So, I began with a small plan. Once a week, on Fridays, a friend and I would take an hour for each person’s home and help the other tackle a project that had gone undone and needed attention. We gave each other permission to not like the other’s ideas, to try them out and change them if we needed to, and to speak honestly to one another in the process. So the first Friday was at my home and we tackled my counter-top clutter. For an hour or so we asked questions like: ”Could this item live anywhere else in the house?” ”Is this something you need to access often?” ”How badly would you miss this if it disappeared?” With laughing, talking, and a furrowed brow here and there, we finished the project with ideas and a plan for purchasing tools to keep that area more organized. The following Friday we spent at her house organizing her pantry and making better use of some kitchen cupboard space. It has made me look forward to Fridays and tackling the projects I hate most.
While I was putting together this plan with my friend, another friend gave me a book to read that she claimed changed her life. Her testimony was that she was not a “born organizer” either, and that she learned about this book from her mom who had read it and it had changed her life. Well my interest was piqued. She gave me a copy to read and that’s when this change thing really took off. The book is called “Sidetracked Home Executives“, and was written in 1977. I had never heard of it, but of course, I’m an artist and I don’t read books like that. 
It was written for people like me, by people like me and I could identify with every story. The book came with instructions for a system that would keep me and my children on a steady course of organization that even I, an artistic, right-brained individual can manage.
Terrified, I struck out on this new venture, almost certain I would fail. (I’m not a real optimist when it comes to organization), but nevertheless, I was determined to try. All I can say is that after the first week of implementing the things I learned, my husband sat on the couch and said this to me: ”Cate, do you remember when you got saved? I was only four at the time, and even though I didn’t live a life of deep sin in those first four years, I felt like a huge weight had lifted from off of my shoulders. I remember how it felt. I have to say that after this one week of your organizing and managing our home, I feel like I’ve just been “saved” all over again!” Well, that was convincing enough for me.
The changes I was making were worth every minute, and even my son said to me: ”Mom, this is great. Now we know what you are expecting from us and we’ll get grounded a lot less.” That was some logic I had never connected, but caused me to reflect. Yes, I have gone days ignoring home duties in order to finish projects, only to burst from my room yelling at the family to clean the house and get it done quickly, because I couldn’t handle the clutter. The day would usually be fraught with tears, melt-downs and hurt feelings, and end with me spending hours doing most of the housework, because everyone knows that “It’s easier to do things yourself.” (Excuse #33). That was all changing.
The truth is I like excuses. Growth is painful, change is scary, and I am prone to fail. I don’t like change, but I can’t stay the same. I am on a journey of life that will change me physically, and emotionally whether or not I like it, and though I can’ t control all of life’s changes, I can, with the help of the Holy Spirit in my life, learn to manage my actions and reactions, and allow my creativity and personality to grow in new territory. And so it is…..I am changing. I am growing. I AM ORGANIZING!!!!
P.S. I highly recommend this book for all of you who just weren’t “born organizers”. Order it from Amazon by clicking here.
So here is a list of my excuses that I use now to motivate me to change. Some I borrowed from the book I am recommending, with my own personal additions:
- I don’t have enough money
- It’s too hot
- It’s too cold
- I’m not in the mood
- I’ve got too many kids
- My husband is working away
- I’ve got cramps
- My house is too small
- My house is too big
- We just moved in
- We just got back from vacation
- I don’t have enough time
- We’re remodeling
- Nobody cooperates with me
- I’d rather play solitaire
- I’d rather be on Facebook
- I don’t want to do it
- I’m too intelligent for such remedial work
- My mother didn’t teach me
- I hate housework
- Nobody appreciates it anyway
- Creative people are messy
- I’m on the rag
- I’ll start tomorrow
- I was up all night
- It’s the flu season
- It’s not in my genetic make-up
- I have too many interruptions
- I’m just too busy
- I don’t know how to
- It’s just too hard
- I was like this when you married me
- It’s easier to do it myself
- ………………………………………………
Feel free to add your own!
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The Songwriter
16 Jan 2012 1 Comment
in Devotionals From My Life Tags: lyrics, songwriter, Songwriting
I am an artist and I am a collector. I am not a collector of trinkets, or cars, or antiques; but I am a word collector. I collect phrases, words, and expressions. I collect tones and tenses of things spoken or sung. I collect pictures created by words I have read, and I keep them in books, journals, and in my heart. Whenever I experience, hear, or read something that strikes me or stirs me, I collect it and muse on it– Sometimes for hours, sometimes for years. I let it have a place in my heart and I let the Holy Spirit in me analyze it, evaluate it and speak to me about it. Then the creating begins…
I can’t speak for every songwriter, and I’m not even sure how many I represent, but I guess that isn’t why I am writing. I write because I have a need to express what I am learning, and a desire to work out the ideas and thoughts out in the open where I can see them best and analyze their impact. You see, my life is impacted on a daily basis by things I see, read, feel, touch, hear, and experience and many of those experiences shape me—change me. I can’t stay still, I can’t remain the same. I must work through life’s processes—rejecting some and embracing others. My songwriting begins with my vulnerable heart.
Out of the storehouse of my collections, I begin to build and assemble. Using the threads of my emotions, and the glue of my convictions, I see myself as a creator of collages. I take the Words of Scripture, let them live in me, let them shape and change me, and then put them on paper or set them to music with the heart and passion they stirred in me as they rebuilt my mind. I love to take a picture from my window—of the sea and sky and weave them into the collage. I desire to securely hang each thought using the convictions that direct my life and the authenticity of the Author of my life—the One who holds all things together by the Word of His Power. (Colossians 3:17). This is how I live; not just the way I write.
Somewhere in my art you will discover it if you look closely—my flaws. You’ll detect my weak phrasing, or my halted beginnings. You will discover my wrong notes, and my raw emotions. Sometimes I will tell you outright my fumbling and foibles. This is true of my life as well. Sometimes I stammer and stall, sometimes I hide and retreat. Many of you I call for prayer. All of this becomes part of my collections. Each fear and failure is recreated into an experience or expression that, woven with the grace of God, becomes another piece of art.
I think what makes the difference in me between a vulnerable, flawed mess and an artist is the courage to trust that God will make something out of my life. I have to “let go” of my experiences and stories and allow them to walk ahead of me sometimes into places I would never have reached if I kept them stored in my mind. I put it on paper, or set it to music, and let it go. Then I bring my heart before the Lord again and ask Him to evaluate it, shape it, change it, and fill it, and you know what? He always does.
The Moments That Matter
31 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
in Devotionals From My Life, Life Applications Tags: little gifts, make every moment count, New Year's Resolution
“When I surrender to the reality that what I get here on earth is moments– moments of understanding in the midst of craziness and suffering; moments of community in the midst of loneliness and isolation; moments of forgiveness in the midst of shame and struggle; and moments of hope in the midst of hard (sometimes mundane) work–then I can rest.” (Sharon A. Hersh MA, LPC from her book “The Last Addiction”)
I am learning that life does not wait for your perfect plan, your pay raise, your successful diet, your New Year’s Resolution, or your cure. Life ticks away as moments…little gifts wrapped in a thousand ways. Memories are made in moments–not the moments you are planning for or talk about in the futuristic sense; but the moments you just lived while you were dreaming of another life.
While you are putting off getting family photos until you lose that 15 pounds, your children are growing up, or maybe moving out and starting their own families. That perfect job that somehow alludes you also potentially blinds you to the grace-filled life you currently possess. That house that you never wanted but are stuck with is creating hundreds of memories your children will carry on into their adult-hood. Every moment is accounting for something.
We don’t always get our perfect world with ideal circumstances linked together in a row. We get moments. We get opportunities to be thankful; choices to be joyful; open doors to give and receive forgiveness; and one life to live it in. We have “this moment” with an ever-present God. Don’t forget to celebrate “this moment” while you are dreaming of your future. The moments that matter most are the ones you are “present” in. Make more of your moments “presents”.
