As A Child

My soul will make its boast in the LORD;
The humble will hear it and rejoice. (Psalm 34:2)

Why do some rejoice with you when you speak of the Lord, and others, well . . . .

Perhaps part of the reason has to do with attitude: humility or pride. The humble – those who are willing to recognize their dependency on God – say as King Solomon, “I am a little child. I do not know how to come in or go out (1 Kings 3:3). Others, however, boast in their accomplishments, position, wealth and talents and act more like Pharaoh, who asked, “Who is the Lord (that I should obey Him)?” (Exodus 5:2).

Not much of a surprise, then, that some have little room in their hearts to walk humbly before God.

Please don’t misunderstand my intent here. I'm not picking on Pharaoh or those who take pride in being -- to whatever degree -- rich, famous, or powerful. Pride is a most deceitful emotion. I can’t tell you how often I've acted like Pharaoh without realizing it . . . until much later in the day (or, usually, the week) when the Holy Spirit finally gets my attention.

Say what you want about Solomon, but despite his wealth and power, he had it right. He knew he was as a little child. He admitted to his heavenly Father he didn’t know how to come or go. And he acknowledged where his many gifts originated.

Pharaoh didn’t do any of that. Why should he? After all, he was king of Egypt.

Lord, help me remain mindful of the gifts I receive from your hand. Make me as a child before you, careful to boast only in what You have accomplished in and through me. Amen

Rich
RNmaffeo@aol.com

God of the Hills, Plains -- and Eternity

The ancient Syrian army made a fatal mistake. Israel had beaten them in battle, and the Syrians assumed it was because Israel’s God was centered in the hills on which they fought.

“But if we fight them on the plains,” they reasoned, “surely we will be stronger than they. Do this . . . raise an army like the one you lost-horse for horse and chariot for chariot-so we can fight Israel on the plains. Then surely we will be stronger than they" (1 Kings 20:23-25)

And that was their problem. They thought Israel’s god was bound to a piece of real estate. They soon learned their error.

I suppose it’s easy to point the finger at the Syrians and snicker that anyone could think God is so small and limited. And yet, I act like the ancient Syrians more often than I like to think I do.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to myself, “God answered my prayers in the past, but I’m not sure He will do it again.” In other words, God is the God of the then, but not the now -- or the tomorrow.

I've said, “God forgave me that sin before, but I can’t believe He’ll do it again.” In other words, God limits His forgiveness to a fixed number – once, a dozen, three dozen. And then the axe falls.

Or, “God took care of us when I was working, but now that I'm getting ready to retire, I wonder how we will live.” In other words, God has to ration His limited resources to adequately take care of all His children.

What nonsense.

The Syrians made a fatal mistake when they believed Israel’s God was limited to a small parcel of geography. Let’s not make the same error. He is not bound by time, geography or distance. And just as important, His power and compassion are the same yesterday, today and forever.

Prayer: Lord, Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. (Psalm 139)

Rich
RNmaffeo@aol.com

Don't Be Afraid

"Do not be afraid," Samuel replied. "You have done all this evil; yet do not turn away from the LORD, but serve the LORD with all your heart” (1 Samuel 12:20).

The Israelites blew it (again). They wanted to be like the nations around them, so they harangued the priest/prophet Samuel to give them a king. Read what they said in 1 Samuel chapter 8, then skip to chapter 12 (of course, the intervening chapters are important, too).

It would be an understatement to say God wasn’t happy about their decision. You can almost hear His voice choke with emotion in chapter eight, verse seven, when He says, “They have not rejected you (Samuel), but they have rejected Me from being king over them.”

So, Saul becomes Israel's first king. But Samuel makes sure Israel understands they’ve stepped into dangerous territory. That’s when he tells them, “You’ve done all this evil.”

Then he says something you and I dare not miss. The prophet comforts and exhorts them, “Yet, do not turn away from the Lord, but serve the Lord with all your heart.”

In other words, “OK, guys. You really, really blew it. Yes, God is angry. But He is a loving and merciful Father. Don’t be afraid. His mercy is greater than His anger, His compassion deeper than His displeasure.”

“Don’t allow your guilt or remorse to keep you from turning back to Him. Repent. apologize for your sin and press on toward the high call of God.”

What the prophet said to Israel, the Holy Spirit says to you and me. Sure, we've blown it (again). But God is still a loving and merciful Father. His mercy remains greater than His anger, His compassion deeper than His displeasure. So, let's return to the Lord, for He will abundantly pardon the repentant one.

Father, be merciful to me, a sinner. According to the greatness of your compassion, blot out my transgressions. Against You only have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight. I repent. I apologize. I admit I am wrong. Father, hold me close to yourself and, for the sake of Your Son, Jesus, forgive me. Amen

Rich
RNmaffeo@aol.com

An Hour is Not Enough

The Lord Jesus once asked His slumbering disciples, “Could you not watch with me for an hour?“ And for 30 years of my walk with the Savior, I wondered how anyone could spend an hour watching in prayer. I got distracted within the first five minutes. And then I discovered a way to grow in my intimacy with Christ. I call it the “Worship-Word-CROSS” Hour.

Here’s a brief synopsis of what I do:

1. I snap a worship CD into the player, stick earphones into my ears and listen to songs which address the Lord as “You” (instead of ”He”). For example, I chose lyrics along the lines of, “You are wonderful and glorified,” instead of “He is wonderful and glorified.” When lyrics are in the second person instead of the third, I can more readily sing in my mind the lyrics as my prayers.

2. Next, I read two chapters of Scripture. I keep a journal handy so if the Holy Spirit gives me insight about a particular verse I can write it down. Two chapters of Scripture in the morning and two at night will bring you through the Bible in a year. Because the NT is shorter than the OT, four chapters a day gets me through the NT three times each year and the OT once.

3. I spend the next 20-30 minutes in prayer. I developed an acrostic --CROSS -- to get me back on track when I get distracted:

C—I meditate a few minutes on the crucifixion. For example, what did the cross accomplished for me? How did my sins cause His agony and death?

R—I meditate on the resurrection. Again, for example, how does the empty tomb validate Christ’s message? What promise does His resurrection hold for me, when I die?

O—I meditate on the “Our Father” (the Lord’s Prayer—Matthew 6). I pause at each verse, sometimes each word or sentence. What does “Our Father” mean? Who are my brothers and sisters? My thoughts take me across the world, to places such as Sudan, Saudi Arabia and Iran where Christians are persecuted, raped, tortured, imprisoned for no other reason than their faith in Christ. What can I do for them?

“Hallowed (sacred) is thy name” – Have I forgotten the holiness of God and His name? Do I misuse His name? Do I live in such as way as to give unbelievers reason to sneer at His name?

I move through the rest of the prayer in similar fashion.

S—is for supplication. Here I pray for others . . . family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, politicians . . . whoever the Holy Spirit brings to mind.

S—is for sacrifice. I offer myself as a living sacrifice. I ask Him to take my memory, my freedom, will, understanding, health, wealth, talents -- everything I have and cherish -- and to use them for His honor.

Sometimes I vary my time in prayer by reading a psalm or two, meditating on the words and verses of prayers David and others wrote millennia ago. Sometimes I read the prayers of saints of the church, such as Augustine, Ignatius of Loyola, Brother Lawrence and A. W. Tozer.

Since I started using this pattern more than a year ago, the Holy Spirit uses song, scripture and prayer to draw me deeper into the arms of Jesus. I often discover an hour is not enough.

Determine to set aside your own hour for song, scripture and prayer. Persevere in your plan to seek intimacy with Christ. When He woos you to Himself, you also will discover an hour is not enough.

Rich
Rnmaffeo@aol.com

Even Loops Have A Purpose

Exodus 25-30

“Make the tabernacle with ten curtains of finely twisted linen and blue, purple and scarlet yarn, with cherubim worked into them by a skilled craftsman. All the curtains are to be the same size-twenty-eight cubits long and four cubits wide” (Exodus 26:1-2)

I admit it. Reading through the chapters in Exodus which detail the construction of the Tabernacle is, well, mind-numbing. Loops and clasps, boards, sockets, pillars, almond blossoms, curtains, poles, pegs and hooks and bands and . . . .

It never seems to stop.

For a people who spent generations slogging through mud pits to make bricks for Pharaoh’s empire, such precision, such detail must have seemed burdensome.

Then I noticed something I’d not seen in my many times reading through these “better-than-a-sleeping-pill” chapters.

I noticed precision.

Every loop had its place. Every socket a reason. Every curtain and hammered blossom and length of thread and slice of wood a purpose.

Do you sometimes feel like you’re slogging through a meaningless existence? We spend our days fighting traffic, paying bills, washing dishes, punching time clocks. We wake up, go to work, return home, go to bed, wake up and start all over.

It never seems to stop.

But children of the almighty, omnipresent and omniscient Father can trust, as we live what might seem “sleeping-pill” monotony, every loop has its place. Every socket a reason.

The Tabernacle -- built of loops and sockets and wood and thread -- was the place God met His people. And our Father has not changed in the last several millenia. He still meets us, even as we slog through traffic jams, punching clocks, washing dishes.

If we wonder about that -- and I have at times -- perhaps we need to quiet ourselves long enough for His glory to have a chance to settle into our tabernacles.

I'll share some thoughts about that some another time.

rich
RNmaffeo@aol.com

From Heaven, or Men?

“Jesus entered the temple courts, and, while he was teaching, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him. ‘By what authority are you doing these things?" they asked. "And who gave you this authority?. . . “Jesus replied, ‘I will also ask you one question. If you answer me, I will tell you by what authority I am doing these things. John's baptism--where did it come from? Was it from heaven, or from men?’ " Matthew 21:23-24

From heaven, or men? Every now and again the same question filters into my mind, and it is disquieting. I bristle against the tension that pulls me away from what I want to do, when I know it’s not what He wants me to do.

You’ll never hear me say the scriptures are simply moral teachings and philosophies of men. No, for I am more than convinced it is the very word of God written on parchment by men who were moved by the Holy Spirit. Every word.

So why do I sometimes live as if those words are His suggestions, and not His commandments? Why, when it suits me, do I call my dark, light, and rationalize my bad with a wave of the hand and a "I'm only human" flippancy? Why do I excuse my rebellion against the clear instructions of Scripture?

Probably for the same reason the religious leaders in this text struggled with their response to Jesus – they wanted their kingdom, not God’s. Their will, not God’s. Their plans, desires and opinions. Not God’s.

Lord, help me – help us – to mean it when we pray – and to pray it often: “Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done.” Amen.

Rich
RNmaffeo@aol.com

Never In Vain

As soon as I walked into his hospital room, I knew he was dying. I tried not to notice his labored breathing or his yellowed and swollen skin.

Six weeks earlier his doctors diagnosed colon cancer. On further examination they found another tumor in his left lung. A CT scan uncovered suspicious spots on his liver.

“Hi Dan,” I choked back tears. “How are you feeling?”

He opened his dark, sunken eyes, turned his head and tried to smile.

“Tired,” he whispered. “Good to see you.”

It had been nearly five years since Dan and I were last together. My job change and move across country ended our weekly chats. When he and I spoke on the phone during the past Christmas, no one could have known it would be his last earthly
celebration of Christ’s birth.

As I watched him struggle for air, my mind drifted to the time he shared with me the story of his conversion. He’d been raised an agnostic, educated in the most prestigious schools and trained as a clinical psychologist. He could have easily dismissed the emptiness gnawing at his heart as irrational foolishness. The idea that sin could be the root of his void was as foreign to his humanistic world view as east is from the west.

But when the Holy Spirit revealed to him the truth about sin, forgiveness and salvation, Dan suddenly knew he had to make a choice: bow to God or hide behind human philosophies.

He chose God, and from that moment, devoted his life to the cornerstone of God’s truth: Jesus Christ.

Twenty-two years later, his body weakened by cancer, yet his faith remained powerful. As he had done for the last two decades of his life, he asked everyone who would listen, “Do you know my Jesus? Do you know my savior?”

Once, during the few days we spent together in his hospital room, I asked him, “Dan, how does it feel to know you are dying?”

My question was deeply personal for me. I learned long ago that a hospital room is where everything we hold dear to ourselves washes out: money, popularity, passions, careers -- like charred timbers after a house fire, a death-bed places so many things in clear perspective. I needed to know the thoughts of this man of God. Perhaps his answer might help me cope during that future time when I lie in some hospital bed, staring into eternity.

He raised his hand to the bed-rail and touched mine.

“From life . . . to life,” he smiled. “I leave this one to enter the next with Jesus. I fought the good fight. I finished my course. I kept the faith.”

I placed my other hand atop his and let his words seep into my spirit. As was always true in our relationship, the thoughts I shared with him never approached the wisdom he shared with me.

We buried Dan a few days later. A chilled November wind whipped across the southwest Missouri cemetery. Rust-orange leaves carpeted the frozen dirt at our feet. And as the final words of eulogy drifted from the graveside, Dan’s last words to me filtered once again into my memory, “fight the good fight, finish the course, keep the faith.”

Dr. Daniel V. Taub illustrated how the Holy Spirit can use a child of God, even from a death-bed, to minister grace to anyone with ears to hear. Serving his Savior until his last breath, my friend’s simple eloquence reminded me that our labors for Christ are never in vain .


Lord, it's easy to become discouraged, to believe I'm failing you, that am not producing fruit for you. Please remind me during those times that my labor, whatever it might be, is never fruitless when done to honor you. Amen.

Rich
RNmaffeo@aol.com

From A Distance

From a distance, San Diego's lights glistened like diamonds on velvet. Most evenings I sat on my porch overlooking the city and watched them erupt to life. By the time the sun set behind the horizon, the sky above the silhouetted buildings glowed with the warmth of ten thousand lights.

But when I drove through the city on business, the diamonds lost their sparkle. Velvet turned to burlap. The warmth chilled.

Along north Broadway, men and women in evening attire strolled the streets, holding hands, window shopping. Others rested at curbside restaurants sipping espresso. A little south, though, things changed. Men and women in tattered clothing carried plastic shopping bags and rummaged through trash bins.

One night I parked my car and stepped onto the sidewalk, moving closer than usual to the invisible residents of Downtown . . . the people I often stepped around or avoided altogether. Like Randy, an alcoholic slumped against the graffiti-marred brick wall outside an adult video store. As I squatted beside him I noticed a styrofoam cup at his feet. Next to it, on a torn piece of cardboard, he had scrawled, "Thank you." I counted 50 or 60 cents in pennies, nickels and dimes at the bottom.

Randy is not a stranger to those who linger outside the row of liquor stores, thrift shops and century-old hotels. He told me he sets himself there every day -- from 8 AM until after dark. Except when it rains. He stays in his room across the street when it rains, watching television and drinking cheap whiskey.

"Not many people on the streets when it’s wet," he avoided my eyes as he spoke. "No sense gettin' soaked for a couple o'dollars."

I tried to start a conversation about spiritual things, but he waved me off.

"I know what you're tryin' to do." This time he looked at me. "Tryin’ to help me. But I'm doin' fine."

I’ve thought about Randy many nights since then as I sat on my porch, staring across Mission Bay toward the skyline. As I did, my thoughts drifted closer to home.

I don’t like to admit it, but San Diego's lights illustrate my life. From a distance, I also sparkle. Ask anyone who works with me or attends the same church. To them, I am well-educated, successful nurse-manager. I am a family man, author, teacher . . . a leader within my sphere of influence.

But closer in, the glitter barely covers the burlap. Ask those who live with me. My wife and children know the angry words, the hypocrisies (transient as I hope they are), the broken promises. They know the tattered clothing beneath the starched suit and tie.

Yet, even they don't know me the way God does. He steps close into my life and understands my secret thoughts. He knows each of my deeds and every word before it crosses my tongue (Psalm 139). Even the Randy within me is open before Him -- my inner-person who often convinces me that I am doing fine, while I am, in truth, "wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked" (Revelation 3:17).

But that's why I need Jesus -- a Lover who knows so well my arrogant boasts, my lustful stares, my prideful thoughts . . . yet loves me, nonetheless (1 John 4:10). I need a Lord who forgives every sin I bring before Him in repentance (1 John 1:9). I need Friend who never gives up on me, who continues His work in my heart, changing my burlap into glistening robes (Philippians 1:6). I need a Savior to rescue me from what would be the eternal consequences of my sins (John 3:16).

end

Rich
RNmaffeo@aol.com

Because We Are . . .

“And the tempter came and said to Him, ‘If You are the Son of God, command that these stones become bread . . . If You are the Son of God, throw yourself down (from the temple’s roof)’ ” (Matthew 4:3-6).

“If You are . . . ." Satan knew perfectly well Jesus was the Son of God. The visit of the angel to Elizabeth and Zechariah, to Mary, and the shepherds in the field did not escape the Tempter’s notice. That’s why he incited Herod to kill Jesus.

Some argue the devil hoped to trick Jesus into using His supernatural powers to benefit Himself, and short-circuit the Father’s plan of redemption. Perhaps they are right. But I wonder if Satan might have had an additional purpose. If he could cause Christ to doubt, even for a moment, who He was and to Whom He belonged, would that have sidetracked the Father’s plan of redemption? Though it’s a rhetorical question, it carries a weighty spiritual application for you and me.

“If you really are a child of God . . . .” How often has the Tempter suggested something similar to us? A bazillion times, probably. And why not? If he tried that tactic to pull Jesus off track, we can expect him to try the same with us.

Satan knows perfectly well that we repented of our sins and now belong to God. That’s not the issue for Satan. Our relationship with the Father is not in question. But – and this is critical -- if the Tempter can cause us to question our relationship, he’ll take immediate advantage of that chink in our spiritual armor.

How should we respond to the implied accusation, “If you are”? With God’s word.

For example: “But as many as received (Christ), to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name” (John 1:12). And again, “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:26). And yet again, “The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God” (Romans 8:16).

Scripture provides dozens of assurances that we belong to our heavenly Father, and Satan’s question is straight from the bowels of hell. What you and I need to answer is: whose words will we believe?

Prayer:
Lord, I am sorry for doubting I am your child. How that must hurt you when I question your unconditional love for me. I am sorry for giving greater audience to your enemy, than I give to you as You speak to me through the Word and those who faithfully teach it. Lord, renew my faith, that I might move mountains. Amen.

Rich
rnmaffeo@aol.com

If you notice . . .

I might become a little quiet during the next couple of weeks. My wife and I are in the throes of moving our household from the east coast to the west. If you are curious, it's 3031.32 miles -- according to Mapquest.

So, while I think I can get internet access from time to time during the next month or so, I am not sure how faithful I can be to upload things worth reading -- uh, worth reading, in my opinion ;)

Anyway, just wanted to let you know the reason for any slowdown on my end.

rich
rnmaffeo@aol.com

Seeing and Hearing Are Not Enough

“Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be executed. When they came to the place called the Skull, there they crucified him, along with the criminals--one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing’ " (Luke 23:32-34).

It began with flogging. Roman soldiers fashioned a leather whip studded with small rocks and bone. Every blow against their backs ripped open new strips of skin. Their muscles and tendons quickly turned into a mass of quivering, bleeding flesh. Most prisoners died of shock and blood loss long before being nailed to the cross.

At the execution site, soldiers laid crosses on the ground and threw the men onto them. The seven-inch spikes hammered through their wrists and feet tore through exquisitely sensitive nerves. Electrifying pain exploded along their arms and legs.

As they hung between heaven and earth, breathing became an all-consuming struggle as gravity restricted their respiratory muscles. Each man had to push against his feet and flex his arms to breathe, but every movement intensified the strain on their ravaged nerves. Adding to their torment, each breath forced their backs against the splintered wood, reopening the raw wounds. Every breath, every movement, every moment on the cross only inflamed their anguish.

For hours, they hung there. And for hours, the two thieves watched the One in the middle. They heard His groans, His complaint of thirst, His concern for His mother’s care, His prayer for his tormentors, and His cry, “Father, why have you forsaken me?”

Nothing escaped their notice.

But only one was changed -- and to that one, Jesus turned and promised, "I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise."

Fast-forward two thousand years. Each Sunday we see and hear the Lord. We see Him in the communion elements. We hear Him in hymns, choruses and the preached word. He reminds us of His presence beside us in the liturgies, the furnishings, the prayers.

And some remain unmoved. And some are changed.

Lord, change me! May I never be too busy with my own suffering, self-righteousness and justification, anger and bitterness, to surrender myself and my sins to the Lordship of Jesus. Help me always be like the thief who repented.


Rich
rnmaffeo@aol.com

Come Home

I didn't intend to eavesdrop. I doubt they even noticed me as I leaned against the wall. The family focused too closely on their private ordeal to pay attention to anyone else in the airport terminal.

When they reached the row of seats across from me, they stopped. The daughter lowered her travel-bag to the floor.

"There's still time to change your mind," her father spoke softly.

The young woman, probably in her early twenties, nodded and turned toward the glass wall. Her plane waited at the gate.

"Call us when you get settled," mom said, breaking the tension. "Let us know how you are."

They looked at each other. Both tried to smile. Dad slipped his hands into his pockets and stared at the passing crowd. I felt relieved for them when, a few moments later, the ticket agent's voice broke over the loudspeaker, "We will now board rows 20 through 28. Please have your boarding passes ready for the agent at the door."

"Well," Dad sighed as he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "Take care of yourself," his voice caught. "Call if you need anything. Come home whenever you want."

She brushed a kiss to his cheek, hugged Mom for a moment, looked once more at Dad -- and walked away.

Why was she leaving? For how long? I don't know any more about the family than what I heard and saw during that brief interlude at the terminal gate.

What I do know, however, is for me the most important part of the story. Mom and dad wanted her to stay. Even to the last moment, before boarding the plane, they hoped she would change her mind -- and they made sure to remind her that she would always be welcomed home.

As they watched their daughter disappear down the corridor toward her plane, my heart suddenly caught a sense of another Parent's pathos; and I wondered, how often does the heavenly Father stand before one of His children and plead, "There's still time to change your mind"? How often does He say, "I wish you wouldn't go"?

And how many of them return an awkward smile -- and walk away into the corridor of self-righteousness, sexual immorality, pride, drug and alcohol abuse and other rebellions against the heavenly Father's heart?

Yet the most important part of that story is this: No sin is too dark, no violation of His law is too deep, that Christ's blood cannot purify. Calvary still echoes with God's plea to His wayward children, "Turn from those rebellions and come home." Again and again He says it: "Remember, you can always come home."

Rich
RNmaffeo@aol.com (new email addy)

Driving Another Nail

Foaming with rage, Saul made his way to Damascus to drag Christians to prison and, if possible, execution. As far as he was concerned, those who followed the heretic Jesus were a cancerous blight on civilization. They must be silenced. They would be silenced. Saul would make sure of it.

You probably know the rest of the story. On his way to Damascus, Saul was knocked off his donkey and heard the thunderous accusation: Saul! Saul! Why are you persecuting me? I am Jesus of Nazareth whom you are persecuting (Acts 8).

Until that moment, the zealot didn't understand when he hurt Christians, he was hurting Jesus. When he brutalized them, he brutalized Jesus.

This is a critically important lesson fraught with extraordinary ramifications. Think of it. Though we don’t go around killing Christians, there are many other ways we hurt our brethren. And in so doing, we hurt Jesus.

How we treat each other, the Lord Jesus warned, we treat Him (see Matthew 25:31-46). When we scratch and claw our way past brothers and sisters in Christ for better jobs or positions, we do so as if scraping Jesus’ flesh under our fingernails. When we lash out againt our spouse or children, it's as if we're ripping into His skin. When we turn our backs on the needy child of God, we turn our backs on the Savior. When we slander His children, it's as if we're hammering nails into His hands once again.

When David confessed his sin with Bathsheba, he didn’t say, “I have sinned against Uriah” (her husband). David recognized the truth: “Against thee, thee only have I sinned and done what is evil in thy sight” (Psalm 51).

The Lord takes our actions and words personally, as if we do them to Him.

That's a scary thought -- which is why I pray, "Lord, I don’t want to drive another nail. I don’t to draw any more of your blood. Help me guard my lips, hands and feet before I hurt others – and You – again. Amen "

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

Eyes to See

I think it was Yogi Berra, former Yankee catcher and Mets manager, who said, “You can see a lot just by looking.”

The converse is also true. We miss a lot by not looking – especially of things that really matter. For example, the Lord Jesus chided His first century listeners, “Do you know how to discern the appearance of the sky, but cannot discern the signs of the times?”(Matthew 16). In another passage He warned, “If your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” (Matthew 6:23).

The Lord asked the Hebrew prophet Zechariah, “What do you see?” (Zechariah 5:2). I'm sure he would ask me the same question, if only I’d stand still long enough for Him to get my attention. But perhaps more honestly and to the point, how much can I expect to see with eyes dull from looking at things I shouldn't be looking at?

“The heavens declare God’s glory,” the Psalmist tells us. But all I usually see through dull eyes are clouds and pollution. The prophet Elisha saw angels circling to his rescue (2 Kings 6), yet I see only obstacles, enemies and reasons to cower under the covers. The Lord warned those who were righteous in their own sight to buy from Him eye salve, lest they not see they were naked, poor, miserable and blind” (Revelation 3:14-18). However, I don’t see much of a reason to spend the money or take the time to go shopping.

It's true, we can see a lot by just looking. That's why I pray, "Lord, give me sharpened spiritual sight. Each day, turn my eyes away from things that displease you, and toward the aura of your glory as it fills the horizon." Amen.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

Tired of Forgetting

Every now and then I catch a glimpse of how little I understand God’s unconditional love. Today was one of those days. During my morning time with God, as I prayed the “Our Father,” I stopped at the phrase, “forgive us our sins.” Suddenly, my mind fast-reversed to the oh-so-many things I’d recently done, said and thought – things for which I am ashamed.

I don’t know how other Christians deal with repetitive sin in their lives, but I sure get tired of committing the same ones again and again. And I admit, sometimes I’m tempted to just give up. At my spiritual age in Christ, I should know where the fissures lie in the road, and be well adept at avoiding them.

As I replayed my recent falls, another text dropped into my mind: “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).

That's a concept worthy of a book-length discussion.

Do I look to disown my children when the offend me? Of course not. As angry or hurt as I might be, I would, in a heartbeat, die for them if necessary.

Does our heavenly Father look to disown His children, even when they anger or offend Him? Of course not. Jesus died to prove that point.

Why did Jesus endure the cross? To demonstrate – forever demonstrate – the Father's ongoing, unconditional love for sinners who continue to fall into the same fissures. Sinners like me – and you. Regardless of the number of times we stumble, His love never changes. Not one iota. And His promise remains ever true: “If we confess our sins, even seventy times seven times, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (I John 1:9).

I wish I’d stop forgetting that.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net