The Gift in the Darkness

                                              

                                    Merry Christmas from the Schlimpert's  

                                                                                   

While I sit here with tree lighting my little world, with the gloom outside, but inside held in the cocoon of my abundance, with little dog snoozing on my couch and hot coffee warming my belly, and fire blazing strongly, the gloom of the world seems away for the moment.  The family I’ve been blessed with smiles beautifully from the Christmas cards ready to send.  But the world still encroaches upon even this blessed world – I’m praying for worries I know lie behind those smiling faces of my loved ones.  And deep also in my belly is the anxiety of knowing the plight of so many people suffering outside (am I doing your will, Lord?), of meeting the small but many obligations of my day before the energy runs out (when am I going to get those cards out?), of the thousand ways we all “suffer brave” in the words of my Advent devotional this morning.  And the gloom creeps inside as I read the reason for the small but deeply buried inside angst that must be fought even in the midst of blessings.  Anne Voskamp in her Advent devotional The Greatest Gift – Unwrapping the Full Love Story of Christmas has the words to catch that small but deep buried hole within: 

   

 No one knows how your heart quakes a bit inside.  At how headlines hit too close, how in the blink on an ordinary day, it could be one you love bloodied by a crash or getting chemo pumped through the veins…The economy crumbles away under your feet.  People fail. Dreams fail.  You feel like you fail.  Some days it’s hard not to panic and to weep for all that isn’t.  For all that you aren’t…But in the barrenness of winter we are offered a gift we must always carry close:  rejoicing in the Lord happens while we still struggle in the now…As the cold can move you deeper toward the fire, struggling can move you deeper toward God, who warms you with joy.  Struggling can deepen joy.  Even though.  Even now.  And even though (as Habakkuk reminds us) there are days when the fig trees have no blossoms and the Christmas tree aches a bit empty, and there seem to be no struggle-free days, even though I fail, even though so much fails – even now I will rejoice in the Lord.  The secret of joy is always a matter of focus:  a resolute focusing on the Father, not on the fears.  All fear is but the notion that God’s love ends.  When does He ever end?  When you can’t touch bottom is when you touch the depths of God…I can be joyful in the God of my salvation.  Re-joys, re-joice.  Hasn’t He already unequivocally earned trust?  You can take your hands off your life – you don’t have to try to save it.  Behold Him everywhere, and be held.  Though the fig tree does not blossom – His love always does.  Count, recount gifts: rejoice, re-joys.  A song of thanks steadies everything…Brilliant people don’t deny the dark; they are the ones who never stop looking for His light in everything.

 I read those words and the angst that often rises within me is named – it is the way of the world.  “In this world there will be trouble, but rejoice, I have overcome the world.”  And the lights of the tree – the tree that is here because we are celebrating the tree that the baby came to save us on – the baby the world celebrates even if they don’t know Him. 

And the gloom once again retreats.  The light shines in the darkness.  It shines into the barrenness of my soul that has begun once again to focus on the world around me, and feel the need of being saved – and I do rejoice.  I am able find re-joys in the blessings and chase away the to-dos and the worries, and just walk into the day held.  Like a psalm that begins with David’s cries for help and ends with the realization of God with him, God with us, Emmanuel, holds my heart for a minute this morning before I start the scramble back into the world.  And once again Anne Voskamp’s words describes the Christmas gift I am unwrapping once more this morning – a gift that never stops giving any morning, any moment, if I but take time to sit down and unwrap it: 

 Forsake the fairy tales for the story that is history:  this king from backwater Bethlehem is the true and the real once and still coming King – the King of humanity’s memory. There is your winter wonderland set up on the cosmic stage:  the Son sent in through the fallen kingdom, born into a barn to wrest the forces from the pit and woo the world back to life.  And on Calvary, evil corners the Son, iron spikes the King to the tree – only to have Light shatter the dark and the King fling off the rotting grave clothes and rise.  The unexpected Bethlehem King is the one coming again to rule the earth and make all the sad things untrue.  And like the angels singing the night that humanity witnesses the King-God inhale earth air into His lungs you can feel it:  “joy beyond the walls of the world.”  And the very trees of the world are going to dance and clap their hands.  The King is coming, and the new Kingdom is stirring. And stirring in you.  When the King rules your world, you cease to rule or worry.  All worry dethrones God.  For we can remember – there is a King born in Bethlehem and on the throne – and you can breathe.  There are lights on Christmas trees blinking in living rooms in cities and small towns – and the lights on all the trees dance.

If we but seek hard to remember the lights are all for the coming King, then the darkness recedes again and we remember we walk in the light.

Joy to the world.  The Lord is come!!!  Let earth receive her King.  Let every heart prepares Him room.  And heaven and earth rejoice.

May you hear the words of the carols anew this year.  Joy to your world. 

The Gift in the Darkness

Into the darkness the baby comes

The light showed the way.

The shepherds and the wise man

Came to behold the blessed day.

The darkness still surrounds us

The headlines penetrate our hearts.

The dailyness of living wearies us

Right from morning’s start.

In this world there must be trouble.

But He has given us the light,

The way to walk in the darkness

That in its midst will make all things right.

The peace that passes understanding

Is the gift that we behold.

But we often look right past it

As our hearts in the dark run cold.

We must listen to the carols

And the hymns written to the Light.

And must take time to unwrap the goodness

That can shine in the midst of the night.

The government is on His shoulders.

So we can rest in the call

To pass the gift to others

Although it seems so small.

In three years of manhood, that

Babe grew to spread the message far and wide

His light has come.

It’s the reason why He died.

With the tree at Christmas,

We remember the one that held him in the dark.

We must remember the meaning of Christmas

The babe that lit the spark

Of the light that has come to the world.

It’s the gift that holds the light.

Spread it to those around us

It’s our hope of making all things right.

              

-        By Sherrill Schlimpert

Christmas 2018  

Joy Comes in the Mourning?

                                               
       

   Weeping may stay for the night,  but joy comes in the morning.

    

   Hear, Lord, and be merciful to me; Lord, be my help... You turned my wailing 

   into dancing.  (Psalm 30)

                                           
                             

                                       

          Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.   (James 1:2,3)

This  morning at the Women's Retreat at our church with speaker Jen Wilkins, the words   

morning and mourning jumped off the screen to me as we gathered in worship.  The worship was pure joy for me at least, and for many other women from what I could tell by the looks on their upturned faces, voices lifted in harmony, and hands raised in emotion to heaven.   It was a time of worship with nothing else to do for the moment but to focus on His beauty and mercy and goodness.  Surely this is going to be some of what heaven is like; time to worship freely with nothing but joy bursting like a sunrise inside of you with sounds you could listen to forever.   

     But of course, focused worship may only be for the moment here on earth.  And, as I return home, to clothes that need to be washed, furniture that needs to be dusted, supper that needs to be cooked, and the dog that needs letting out, I choose to spend just a few more moments in worship through the power of the pen.  I choose to let the rest go for now - well, I did let the dog out - and crystallize this moment in time where I have a blissfully quiet house and can reflect on the Word and worship that was so artfully presented this morning.

     As I reflect on those two words and verses I wonder, seriously, does joy come in the morning...after mourning?  Can we really consider it pure joy when we face trials of many kinds, knowing that the testing of it will develop perseverance?  Is that the only way to grow?  Is that the answer to the age-old question of "Why does God allow suffering?" ... so that we develop perseverance?  Isn't there any other way to grow?

    Maybe not...  Maybe it is through mourning that we mature.  It could be mourning for  words spoken in anger, for the loss of a loved one,  for a job that is less than perfect, for the house that never seems to stay straightened, for the pain in the midst of the marriage that you thought would complete you, for the mistakes of the past, for the unfulfillment of a dream.  Mourning can come in many packages.  Mourning comes with life, just as the sun rises every morning.  There will be a time to mourn for all of us.  Major mourning, and minor mourning.  But mourning never-the-less.  

    We learned this morning of such mourning as we looked at the stories of three women in the bible:  Rahab, who was considered a no-account for her prostitution that was more than likely not of her choosing; Leah, who never felt like enough next to her beautiful sister Rachel and was thrown into a loveless marriage; and Sarah, who spent her life childless until she was "as good as dead".   All three were mentioned in the Hebrews 11 Christian "Hall of Fame".  In fact,  every person listed in Hebrews 11 endured a time of mourning.  All of them "did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance...Instead they were longing for a better country - a heavenly one."  (Hebrews 11:13, 16) 

     Right from the start of His revealed Word, God is presented to us as a Resurrection God,  one who created the morning and brought the joy from the mourning of  Sarah, and Abraham, and Leah, and Rahab, whether in heaven or earth.  Theirs were all resurrection stories.  

     Can that not bring a joy to us even within our present mourning - the deep, abiding belief that one day all will be right?   It may be a lifetime of waiting - as for Sarah and Abraham, or 40 years as for the Israelites, or for the endless years of waiting to be rescued by Rahab, or for the declaration of  being cancer-free after rounds of debilitating chemo, or for the tension release of finally being given the strength of granting forgiveness for a real offense well up in you after the bitter taste of unforgiveness that continued  too long without release.  Or sometimes it is never alright on earth; only in heaven will we receive healing. 

   But can that joy somehow be here on earth even when deeply buried by mourning that seems to continue forever?  

     It  took me many years to understand that joy in the midst of unwelcome circumstances.  I am still growing in faith to be able to recognize it is there when I'm thrown into the pit of mourning on this earth.   But just as the sun rises each morning, I believe there is always the joy of being able to possess the peace that passes understanding  whether in heaven or on earth.  And I will keep seeking it - through the Son who brings the joy of the morning to each of us who seek Him with all our might.  

Joy Comes in the Mourning?

Consider it joy?  Lord, even this?

I wonder if I'll ever again feel bliss. 

I'm cold and numb, I can't find my way.

Will I even survive another day?

Joy comes in the morning? 

Will I ever see the dawn?

Darkness seems to be in all 

  the cards I've drawn.

I can't see past the pit

And though I'm sure of it,

My faith seems just in my head.

All I can feel is dread.  

Yet, now that I grow still

I begin to feel a trill 

Of a dim song deep within

That I've heard through thick and thin.  

I remember this faint melody 

Buried way down deep inside of me.
Then despite this pain,
I begin to gain

A perspective on which to lean.
And  I begin to slowly glean
That You are there, You are there!
You've promised that you care.
You have always been where

My greatest needs rise.
How can I but surmise
That You will use this for my good?
No matter how I could

Imagine the outcome... 
What I want or something from
The pit of hell to torment me.
What is the worst that could be?
Will I ever be free

Of the pain that is real?
It's all I can feel.
Yet I know, yes I know
That though the hurt is slow
To recede
You are all that I need. 

And this mourning deep inside
Will cause me to abide
Until that day on earth or above
That I once again feel the joy of your love.

For now in the night
I wait in my plight
Knowing the morning always comes
With the joy that is from
You who holds the light
And will deliver us from the night.
Joy comes through the mourning.
                       -Sherrill Schlimpert

             

      

LIGHT in the Darkness

      On this quiet winter night, I finally have slowed down enough after the holidays to write what has become my semi-annual blog.  It's been mulling in my mind for the past month like aging wine.   My thoughts keep being drawn to one word.  It seems that's the way God talks to me.  A word comes to my attention that I keep noticing.   This time it's Light.  The word light.   Somehow I just began to notice the concept of light which seemed to give me pause. I began to notice a message forming in my mind whenever I would see the Christmas lights on the houses and mantles and trees.  But that wasn't all.  I kept noticing it.  There was the star of Bethlehem.  And the shepherds who the glory of the Lord shone about them.  And the Magic Tree at church.  And the advent candles lit one by one.

     John tells us that "Through Him all things were made...In Him was life, and that life was the light of men.  The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it."  John 1: 3 -5. Jesus himself uses the word light often:  "Believe in the light while you have the light, so that you may become children of light. " John 12:36

      Shouldn't children of light notice the light?   I think now on the miracle that light is.  A sunrise.  The moon.  The flame of an open fire.  A beam of sunlight streaming in through the window.  The rainbow that forms as the hose watering flowers hits the light just right on summer day.  The child born out of the womb of darkness into the light of day.  And even though scientists have found a way to harness electricity - the electric light is still a marvel.
   
     Can we understand any of these?  Do we become so accustomed to the light that our hearts are darkened to the miracle of it?   Are we children of light that have become entitled to its luxury?

     Yet, we all have known darkness.  Darkness in the night.  Darkness in the wrestling of our soul.  Darkness in evil and hate and sickness, hurt and suffering and bullying and persecution.  Darkness in betrayal and disappointment, in politics, in crime and broken relationships.

     But when goodness and beauty and light prevail, even for a moment,  why are we not amazed and thankful?   Or have our eyes become accustomed to the darkness?   Do we even seek the light?  The true Light?  Or just shadows that momentarily satisfy?  Do we  only seek the thrill of man-made lights in a sports stadium or a rock band's strobe or the flicker of the latest blockbuster movie screen?

     There are many glimpses of light and goodness on this earth that give us a taste of heaven.  For it is only God who created light out of darkness.  "The earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep... And God said, "Let there be light and there was light.  God saw that the light was good and He separated the light from darkness."  Genesis 1: 2-4.  In 2 Corinthians 4:6 we're told,  "For God who said, "Let the light shine out of darkness, made the light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God's glory displayed in the face of Christ."

     And His Son said clearly,  "I am the light of the world."

     How many sunsets and sunrises do I not stop to see because I am scurrying around with my heart and plans attached to the dark earth?   How many times do my thoughts turn dark because I am not looking to the One who is the light?   How many times is the true Light dimmed against lights of the tv or computer or phone screen that my eyes are glued to?

     Having just been in the dark pit of lethargy and lack of  any zest for life that sinus infections always seem to throw me into, I am especially sensitive to the light of health right now - so thankful to be feeling life.  Any spark of joy, of appreciation, of comfort is like a ray of sunshine permeating the gray of sickness that dulls the senses.  Yet, I know this was just a semi-darkness -  many in this world are in their own types of  smothering darkness -  suffering from black clouds that are emotional, relational, financial or physical.  And yet, without darkness would the light shine as bright?

     Years ago the motivational speaker Zig Ziglar suggested the concept of go-lights. That whenever we stopped at a stoplight, it would be the time to give a green light in our mind to some positive thoughts.  Positive thoughts can certainly add a pre-dawn type of light to the world but they are night-lights compared to the glory of the Lord.  In first Peter 2:9 we are told that we are "a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's special possession, that you may declare the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light."   Shouldn't  that give us cause to have the light of joy in our hearts even on the darkest day?

     For 2 Peter 1:19 also cautions us that "we also have the prophetic message as something completely reliable, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns, and the morning star rises in your hearts."  In the midst of all the rancor and hate and bitterness that spews darkness into our days on this earth - the greed and self-seeking sin of man that has been alive and well since the prince of darkness was allowed to roam on it - why don't we seek after the light with all our might?  The wise men traveled over 500 miles by camel following the star, can we just stop and seek the light in our bible, our churches, our hearts?

     The morning star rises within me tonight just by taking the time to turn off the tv and sit in the light of the fireplace.  It happened by simply taking the time to turn my heart from the darkness of the world - to turn off the barking heads that spew what they think is enlightenment, sure that their solutions will  light the world - though they never seem to.   And more than just turning toward some earthly warmth in the light  of a quiet evening in front of the fire - turning toward THE LIGHT.  THE LIGHT that works miracles in the darkest of hearts - that sparks love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Gal. 5).  THE  REAL LIGHT that I have  personally seen turn lives around, spark forgiveness, reconciliation, and compromise, that can take away the addicts burning drive, that can bring peace out of confusion, and harmony out of disscordance.  THE REAL LIGHT that comes when we take our eyes off of complaining about the darkness in the world to focus on "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy- (and) think on these things  (Phil.  4:8.)

     I am thankful for this fascination with light of lately that has come upon me unbidden - because it has pointed me once again to the Light that holds all the answers, the Light of the world.  But even more than that -  the Light that gives us hope in  the midst of the darkness  -  the light that will shine when Revelation 2:25 tells us that "there will be no more light.  They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light.  And they will reign for ever and ever." 

     I choose to be a child of the light - and stand here amazed to be able to be.


SEE THE LIGHT

Come and see, 
THE LIGHT is here
To light the night
And calm our fear.

The wise men came.
They saw the star.
Even Herod believed them
As they came from afar.  

A King was born
In the dark of the night.
His GLORY shone.
Shepherds cowered in fright.

But they need not have feared 
The light of angels praising a Savior born,
Whose death one day 
Caused the curtain to be torn.

For LIGHT had arrived!
All mankind inclined
To hear this story
That has withheld the test of time.

They hear the story.
But do they see
THE LIGHT that has come
To you and me?

The prisoner set free.
The alcoholic now dry.
The believer on his deathbed
No longer afraid to die.

The flame not extinguished 
By tyranny and rule
The passion that oppression
Cannot quench and cool.  

Darekness abounds.
But THE LIGHT is no tale.
The angels at the tomb 
Announced in light He'll prevail.

So listen -
Come and see THE LIGHT
That warms the soul 
And lights the night.

THE LIGHT of the world
Is plain to see
But only from vantage point
Of bended knee.   


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