Simple Grains

Harvest came early.  My thoughts came late.  Thankfully I know the One responsible for scheduling.  No matter the details I have planned for my life or the timetable in which I believe my world operates, God’s timing is impeccable.

To an outsider it may have appeared as if harvest in Central Illinois crept in unexpectedly.  To the experienced farmer, it was probably not so surprising.  When the crops are ready to be harvested, it’s time to harvest.  Timing is everything.

The timing of autumn has always brought one of favorite seasons simply for one fact, harvest. As you leisurely drive through the countryside the landscape changes in a matter of minutes. Tall brown stalks of corn suddenly give way to grand vistas previously obstructed during summer months.  The gentle rustling of dried beans fades for the hum and drum of a combine emptying a load.  The dark nights are filled with beast like eyes of tractors pulling full loads and of combines making rounds.

Each member of a farming family is crucial to a successful harvest of the grains which fill the landscapes of farmland across the United States.  Every task has a purpose.  If even one tiny cog in the grand operation known has harvest comes to a halt, so too does the whole operation. Timing is everything.

These simple grains which are harvested each year are someone’s livelihood.  They provide roofs and homes for families in farming communities. Each load emptied into grain bins or hauled to elevators is the result of long hours; planning, prayers for rain, shirts full of sweat, prayers to keep the rain at bay, and patience.  Timing is everything.

 

Often times my time table and God’s time table don’t jive.  I have an expectation or a desire and a time frame by when I want an answer.  It’s a constant struggle of mine; to surrender.  To let go and trust God.

I’m not one to have every detail of every corner of my life planned out to the minute.  I do have dreams.  I do have hopes.  The dreams and hopes did not exactly take the shapes I imagined. That’s okay.  It’s better than okay.  How was I to know God had a different shape for my life? How was I to know he would take what was ugly and scarred and hurt to make a new creation? God’s timing is everything.

I should have known.  He told me he would.

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“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.  The old has passed away; Behold, the new has come!”

2 Corinthians 5:17

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“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”

Ezekiel 36:26

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“We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.” 

Romans 6:4

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“He who was seated on the throne said, ‘I am making everything new!’ Then he said, ‘Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.'”

Revelation 21:5

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If he who created the universe cares about the harvest, the simple grains, how much more does he care for me?  He perfectly times the rain, the afternoon sun and the gentle evening breezes to provide a bountiful harvest.  He does the same for me.  His timing for my life is impeccable.  Now I must give him access to harvest within me the simples grains of my life to a bountiful God-filled life.

I am a new creation.  He has taken my old self and made me new in him.  Quite frankly, I am a work in progress.  A slow and steady work.  There are parts of myself I surrender and God makes whole.  There are parts I surrender and slowly allow myself to regain control.

But he is patient.  He is understanding.  He has impeccable timing.  If I only would learn to lean more heavily into him.  To fully trust him with every minute of every hour of every day of every year.

As I look toward the season of thanks, may God continually remind me to be thankful for his timing.  His good and perfect timing.

 

Simple Beauty

 

Every detail of every day has a purpose.  All of creation has but one purpose.  In all honesty, all of humanity has but one purpose.  I have only one purpose.  All of creation was made for the sole purpose of bringing honor and glory to God.

Not just any god.  The God.  The Creator of the universe.  The Author of life.  The Alpha. The Omega.  The lord of Lords.  The king of Kings.  Yahweh.

Many claim all roads lead to eternity.  Others affirm every religion serves the same god, only different in name.  Some say our eternities are only secured through our actions, we must earn our salvation.

I know that I know there is one God under heaven.  I know that I know my God is three in one.  I know that I know my salvation is secured in the sacrificial blood of Jesus Christ.  I know that I know I serve a living God, who was crucified and then raised from the tomb three days later.  I know that I know I am a sinner, saved by grace. I know that I know there is nothing in my power to earn my salvation.  I know that I know I am forgiven.  

Jesus Christ died once, for all.  For you.  For me.  He conquered death so I might live.  So that you may have eternal life.

All of creation makes this proclamation every day. With every sunrise.  With every drop of rain.  With every grain harvested.  With every changing color of autumn leaves.  With every new life given.  Our lives are surrounded by God’s creation shouting out honor and praise to the One High King.  If only I would make that daily public proclamation.

Lord, grant me the strength to proclaim your glory and to bring honor to your name. Through joy.  Every trial.  All circumstances.

“The heavens declare the glory of God;
    the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
² Day after day they pour forth speech;
    night after night they reveal knowledge.
³ They have no speech, they use no words;
    no sound is heard from them.
⁴ Yet their voice^[b] goes out into all the earth,
    their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.
⁵     It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
    like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
⁶ It rises at one end of the heavens
    and makes its circuit to the other;
    nothing is deprived of its warmth.

⁷ The law of the Lord is perfect,
    refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,
    making wise the simple.
⁸ The precepts of the Lord are right,
    giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the Lord are radiant,
    giving light to the eyes.
⁹ The fear of the Lord is pure,
    enduring forever.
The decrees of the Lord are firm,
    and all of them are righteous.

¹⁰ They are more precious than gold,
    than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
    than honey from the honeycomb.
¹¹ By them your servant is warned;
    in keeping them there is great reward.
¹² But who can discern their own errors?
    Forgive my hidden faults.
¹³ Keep your servant also from willful sins;
    may they not rule over me.
Then I will be blameless,
    innocent of great transgression.

¹⁴ May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart
    be pleasing in your sight,
    Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.”

Psalm 19

 

Pastime

Somewhere in my childhood I came to thoroughly enjoy the game of softball.  I couldn’t get enough softball during the summer.  It wasn’t just me, it was my whole household.  We played every sport known to man.  At least every sport known to a Chillicothean.  The summers were crazy for my parents.  Imagine five kids in five different leagues on five different teams.  There was not a dirt free, grass stain free night all summer long.

We had a color coordinated schedule.  We had our bike routes planned out and the younger kids assigned an older kid for when Mom or Dad bused team members to surrounding communities.  We had a laundry basket dedicated to just softball and baseball clothes.  We had our gear ready and our water bottles filled for a quick dash out the door.

There is a science to coordinating five softball/baseball schedules.  Let me just say my mom totally rocked the schedule!  She always knew where each one had to be and at what time.  Ever so rarely the system would fall apart.  Not because of the schedule but because of tired kids.

We were outdoor babies as soon as the sun hit the sky.  We’d spend the day at the pool, play a vicious game or two of street hockey, mow the lawn, play cops and robbers, run ourselves ragged at the park.  But our favorite was baseball.  On game days there were rules.  No late afternoons at the pool, we couldn’t be too tired to play.  Our bikes had to be in the garage before the first of the Bauer Clan had his or her evening game.  Be sure to put your glove and bat and batting glove and cleats in the designated spot to ensure when the van left you had everything you needed.

Those years of summer ball are some of my favorite.  My parents must have enjoyed it too because they put up with summer ball for over 15 years!  Not much has changed for me.

My enjoyment of sports, specifically softball has not lessened.  However, my playing time and my throwing arm are sorely lacking!  Thankfully the playing time is upping and maybe somewhere down the road I’ll be able to actually consistently throw a softball.  Here’s hoping!

I’ve had a baseball and softball oriented summer.  I caught my first ever Major League Baseball game! Went with my fella to Busch Stadium where my beloved Cardinals beat the Cubs.  I’ve cheered for my favorite fellow at his weekly slow pitch games.  Spent a handful of summer nights cheering on the Peoria Chiefs at Dozer Park.  And somewhere in there I’ve squeezed in two more MLB games all in the company of a Cubs fan who is dating a Cardinals fan! And now the co-ed slow pitch league I’m in has just started up for an end of summer hurrah.

I still thoroughly enjoy playing.  It’s like coming home for a summer.  Only I’m retraining my arms, my legs, and my brain to think like a softball player. Not so easy but ever so enjoyable.

It’s the small things of childhood pastimes that stay with you when you’re older.  Remembering the smell of a freshly cut diamond.  Or the smack of the ball zinged into  glove.  The crack of ball against bat for the final RBI to win a game.  Or the taste of Big League Chew.  The sounds of teammates chanting from the dugout.  But mostly its the pride swelling in the chest watching younger siblings catch their first pop fly, hit a double, slide into second base, or steal home plate.

This summer I’m thankful for the pastime of softball and baseball and the shared memories between siblings.  These memories are priceless.  And the memories from this summer are proving just as timeless.  I’m thankful this summer’s activities of Major League Baseball and watching slow pitch ball and now playing a little softball has reminded me how blessed a childhood I led.  Not everyone was so blessed by parents who willingly gave up every night, 15 summers straight.  Not everyone had the opportunity to have her dad coach her summer league softball team.  Not everyone had masses of family to support her each time she stepped up to the plate.  Not everyone had parents who sacrificed to ensure five kids, every year, for 15 years, could play their favorite sports.

And today I’m thankful I can say softball is a childhood pastime that I will forever cherish.  Thanks, Mom and Dad.

 

Psalm 121

“I lift my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip – he who watches over you will not slumber;

indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD watches over you – the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all harm – he will watch over your life;

the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”

~ Psalm 121 ~

 

Beauty

Central Illinois has been full of rainy days.  Not just a handful but the majority of the summer has been chock full of cloudy, dreary days.  But when those not so glorious days give way to a day of sunshine and blue skies I am reminded of all the beauty waiting to be discovered not just on clear, gorgeous days but amidst the overcast and not so joyous days.

The heavens appear a little more blue after endless days of rain.  The fields are verdant and lush.  The creeks and rivers are gushing.  My heart is bursting with joy and wonder to run my hand along a wheat field rippling in the breeze. My soul is quieted when the teaming brooks and streams melodiously rumble past me.  I could sit contentedly by a babbling brook for hours and soak up the Son, feel His grace and mercy pour over me as the waters cause my feet to go numb with cold.

His beauty is on display daily.  It is just a matter of pausing to soak in His beauty.  To capture His grace and His still small voice I must be still.  I must be quiet.  I must listen.  There is no better place for me to be quiet and still than to bask in His glorious creation.  To soak in His beauty is pure bliss.

New Every Day

Alluring.  This is how I feel about the sun.  There is something that causes me to pause and soak in the warmth of the sun at its rise and its fade.  No matter where I go the sun never ceases to capture my attention.

It can be the rising of the sun over the Illinois River as I drive to work.  It might be the soaking of the last rays into a field of soy beans.  It could be the dancing prisms off the ocean landscape.  It can be mountain ranges swallowing whole the last visages of the sun. No matter the location or how familiar the landscape, the rising and setting of the sun captivates my attention.

Here recently I have been able to enjoy the company of my brother in two different states. We have been in two completely opposite landscapes.  We soaked in the sun while enjoying the crashing of waves in North Carolina and most recently captured the sun’s fading light over the swaying of Illinois prairie grasses.  Both locations offer beauty.  Both have been observed countless times.  Yet, I never grow weary of the swatches of color God swirls together to paint a breathtaking sky.

I was once asked if I would tire of the ocean’s setting sun and my immediate response was no. I have yet to grow tired of the Illinois landscape, I cannot begin to imagine tiring of the sun over the ocean’s endless waves of blue.  When I quiet myself in the early mornings and allow myself to be still as the sun’s globe of burnt sienna rises in the east, I am reminded of my Savior’s gentle mercies.

Every single day of my life my God is full of new mercies for me.  Mercy.  Mercy is commonly used in Christian vernacular. But do we ever really consider the definition of mercy?  What does it mean to receive mercy, to give mercy?  There are a handful of definitions but one I particularly like is from good ol’ Merriam-Webster, “compassion or forbearance shown especially to an offender or to one subject to one’s power.”

If ever there was an offender, I would be found immediately guilty.  On too many occasions, because of my sin, I have been the hammer driving the nails into my Savior’s hands.  My sin offends God yet he is merciful towards me.  In his mercy he sent his son, Jesus, to live, to die, to rise again for my offenses against Him. It is a miracle beyond my comprehension that Jesus has taken my guilt and placed it on himself that I might be forgiven and live freely in grace and mercy.

His mercy is not only for today but for every day.  He extends his mercy to me every day.  He would ever so much like to extend the same mercies to you.  Call to him, for he is faithful.

“Through the LORD’s mercies we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.They are new every morning;

Great is your faithfulness.  ‘The LORD is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘Therefore I hope in him!'”

~ Lamentations 3:23-24 ~

Just as I never grow weary of the skies painted in colors of azure, scarlet, and sienna, my LORD never tires of extending to me his daily mercies. When dawn’s early morning haze gives way to the brilliance of the rising sun or as the warmth of sun fades into the swaying fields of winter wheat, my breath catches in my chest.  I am not only beholding a masterpiece in the heavens but am receiving a gift, a visual reminder, that my Jesus has extended to me mercy.  Mercy.  Oh how sweet to daily bask in God’s mercy.  For as surely as the sun rises with the dawning of each new day, so too does God’s gentle mercies.

 

Together

The beginning of March brought a wondrous adventure.  I skipped town for an extended weekend to raise a ruckus with my brother at Camp LeJeune. Jeremiah was home at Christmas but he always does the traveling to see the family.  I figured it was about time to turn the tables and put on some miles for a visit.

What a wonderful weekend of brother-sister time.  Not wanting to cause too much of a stir on base, we swung by his room for a quick pit stop where  I met his roommate who promptly left in Jeremiah’s car to run errands.  Jeremiah is one of a few guys with a vehicle which means his Jeep is borrowed rather frequently.  His room reminded me of my college dorm if you minus the books and swap them with military gear and uniforms.  Let’s just say I’m glad I don’t have to don all the gear required for a basic weekend training let alone a week long exercise!

Not wanting my little brother to starve while I visit we hit up a local pizza place for a giant, and I mean a giant, pizza.  He said there’s a place in Jacksonville with a 45″ pizza!  Ours was no where near that big but it was delicious.  Spending an afternoon exploring the USS North Carolina in Wilmington was awesome!  What an amazing historical battleship.  It’s a good thing I went with him or I would have ended up lost wandering around in the monstrosity.  Having the opportunity to explore the battleship and read the interesting facts together will always be something I cherish.

For whatever reason my baby brother insists that he is my bigger brother.  Just because he has 7-8″ on me does not mean he is my bigger brother. Well, just to prove me wrong I lost the battle of “keep Ashley out of the frigid ocean” to my baby brother.  It’s not exactly fair when your arms are pinned and you’re lifted from the beach with nary a groan and dropped into the Atlantic.  He was nice enough to only get me wet to my knees.  It’s the small things we older sisters learn to appreciate.

The highlight of time with my not so little brother was Sunday.  I was blessed when I accompanied him to church at River of Life Church.  How wonderful and what glorious knowledge to know wherever I travel I will always be surrounded by my brothers and sisters in Christ.  River of Life has an amazing mission to change lives and destinies of its people, community and the nation by sharing the Gospel and connecting people to the Lord Jesus Christ.  The Holy Spirit was felt upon entering their sanctuary.  The people were genuine and their passion for Jesus was evident from their first greetings, to the open expression of worship, to their heartfelt support of each other, and their obvious gratitude to Jeremiah for his service to our country.  It is a beautiful thing to stand next to next to my brother and worship with him the One who made our lives possible and the forgiveness we know a reality.

I’m sure if given the opportunity he would share with you how I got us ‘lost’ while going out for Mexican dinner.  We were not lost I merely took us on the wrong road.  Or how I was a little too short to climb into and out of some of the turret guns on the battleship.  I’m vertically challenged when compared to his 6′ frame.  Or maybe how easily he is able to have me squirm with just a simple glance when I know he’s prepared to tickle me to death.  Literally to death!  Or how he had to keep me from purchasing all of the Disney stories on record at a local shop he’d knew I’d like to visit.

Spending time with him in the life he now leads was simply fabulous.  I’m proud of who he has become and the man of God he is growing into while he serves in the United States Marine Corps.  Most of all I’m proud to call him my brother.  I’ll be claiming him as my baby brother from now until always, despite his resistance.

Beauty for Ashes

My God is a God of rebirth.  It is mind boggling to me how He can transform all who come unto Him.  He can take my filthy sinner’s heart and breathe revitalization into the deepest, darkest, and murkiest nether regions of my soul.  What is the price to me?  Simply asking.

When I came into a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and surrendered my life to Him I was given access to a wellspring of healing. Christ’s healing takes place at varying paces for each one called unto Christ.  Some see an immediate life transformation and chains of bondage are immediately broken.  Others may more steadily leave behind the lives they once knew and take on the life to which God has called them.

 

In either case, all Christians will stumble and fall.  We will continue to be imperfect because we are human.  Yet the most amazing aspect of this walk with Christ is the forgiveness freely given.  Repeatedly given.  Over and over again.  No matter the frequency, no matter how severe, God extends His mercy and grace and washes our faces free of the ashes we have created for ourselves and restores us to the beauty only He can create.

The life God has called me to is one of beauty.  He sees me as His beautiful creation.  God raises me from the ashes of despair, destruction, worry, fear, mourning, self-loathing, and the deep, dark, murky recesses of my heart.

He clothes me in His beauty instead of my ashes.  He replaces my mourning with His endless joy.  He restores the devastated cavities of my heart.  He provides a spirit of praise in place of despair.  And while He is clothing me, giving me rebirth, He reminds me I will be “called [an] oak of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of His splendor” (Isaiah 61:3).

Did you catch that?  It took me a couple times, too.  He restores me not for my sake.  Not for my parents.  Not for my friends.  He restores me so he can “display His splendor.”  Yes, my ashes for His beauty is to bring Him glory.  Not for me to boast of my transforming capabilities but to point to the transforming powers of my living God.

Your ashes too, can be traded in for beauty.  His beauty is free to those who ask.  Ask.  For as Matthew 7:7 simply states, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you.”

Simply asking will bring beauty from your ashes.

Courage

Abraham Lincoln is a president I have always greatly admired.  He came from humble beginnings and was a self-taught man.  He stood for many when they had no voice. He made highly unfavorable decisions yet did not back down.  As the president I most revere, I think we can reap from his leadership and knowledge and apply his wise counsel to today.   In the face of adversity he had great courage.  If only I could have an ounce of his courage.

“To sin by silence when they should protest makes cowards of men.”

~~ Abraham Lincoln ~~

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt I too can have limitless courage.  All I must do is call upon the name of my LORD and he will strengthen me.  He will emblazon me with the courage to face all he presents before me.  He will wrap me in his truths and instill in me the heart of a lion, “For God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7)

For the Children

Seventy years ago on January 27, 1945 the liberation of the concentration camp, Auschwitz occurred.  Yesterday, around the world  friends, family, dignitaries, and holocaust survivors gathered to remember the atrocities held within the boards of this infamous concentration camp.  As guest speakers simultaneously took to their podiums around the globe, one gentleman’s words of caution rung true and struck my heartstrings.

“We do not want our past to be our children’s future.”

~ Roman Kent, Auschwitz Survivor ~

I would encourage you to listen to Mr. Kent’s bold words of caution and take them to heart.  As a Christians I am called to, “Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed” (Psalm 82:3) and to “Speak up and judge fairly; defend[ing] the rights of the poor and needy” (Proverbs 31:9).  I am called to give a voice and to speak God’s truths in love.  Today I am reminded of Isaiah 56:1, “This is what the LORD says: ‘Maintain justice and do what is right, for my salvation is close at hand and my righteousness will soon be revealed.”   Am I that defending voice?