A week after Phil broke up with me he proposed.

It was, he explained later, the longest week of his life. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, could hardly function. Even though we’d planned this break up for a month— after praying for peace and finding only worry— the intensity of his emotions took him by surprise.

And so he did what he’d been taught to do: he sought counsel. First he talked to the other pastors he worked with. Mostly they just laughed at his concerns. The age difference? No bother. The idea of marrying a partner in piano playing? Nonsense! That covered, they offered to cancel staff meeting and go buy the ring!

He began to wonder if maybe he’d made a mistake.

Next he took my dad out to lunch. Not, he assured him, to ask his permission to marry me. But if he did decide what would my dad’s response be? What did he think?

My dad just laughed and enjoyed the free lunch.

Then Phil called his parents. His mom was all for it, more than ready for her middle son to make up his mind. Her only question was, do you love her? When Phil couldn’t stop talking about how much and all the reasons why she, too started to laugh. His dad agreed. Time to ask her, son.

Still, Phil worried. What about just knowing?

I was oblivious to the drama. The breakup, as far as I could see was final. And so I spent my days trying to reimagine my life- sad, but determined to set my wobbly feet on that Solid Rock we’d sung about.

The reality for me was that practically from the day we’d started dating I’d been holding my breath, hoping to marry Phil. He was everything I wanted and then some. I loved the vision he painted for me of a life lived completely and entirely sold out to God.

Serving along side this man would be the highest honor.

There was not the slightest doubt in my mind that I loved Phil with the kind of love that happens only rarely. I knew I wanted to spend every moment of the rest of my life loving him. Sure, I had worries about certain parts of him... there was that moodiness that caught me off guard sometimes. And the pace he set for himself made me wonder how I'd keep up. But I'd looked those things square in the face of reality and decided I could deal with those glitches. Or at least I thought I could. Because my deep respect for him as a man, as a person, as a follower after God, overshadowed the rough edges that I was pretty sure would poke from time to time.

Once when he’s asked me point blank if I had any doubts, I’d wavered between my self-protective tendency to pretend and the truth. Dare I let him know how deeply I loved him? Wouldn’t that be humiliating? Shouldn’t I just act like I wasn’t sure either in order to save face?

In what was for me a great leap of faith, I told him the truth. Even now I remember that swallowing of pride, then the great rush of trust that I had done what the Father asked of me. I could sense God’s approval even as my face flamed with the admission.

No, there was no doubt whatsoever. I wanted to marry Phil.

I still don’t know what finally changed Phil’s mind. Neither does he.

Maybe we both had more surrendering to do. Maybe he had to count the cost of trusting God for the less-than-absolutely-perfect-ideal. Maybe I had to let go of him in order to begin the journey to learning that “I dare not trust the perfect frame but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.”

All I really know is that as soon as he asked, I said YES!

And do you remember what I hinted at in the first part of our story? Early on in our relationship Phil set a high standard for physical boundaries in order to protect both my purity and his own integrity.

Lots and lots of affection…

With purposeful restraint of passion.

For us, what that amounted to was no kissing. Okay, maybe a peck on the cheek from time to time— but none of that lip-locked, hot and heavy, body-entangling kind of kissing.

But when he asked me to spend the rest of my life with him, making a commitment to love and protect and cherish and lead and provide for me… that’s when he kissed me for the first time.

Magic. Beautiful, melting, magic.

And I know that sounds corny. I know that no one does that. I know its kind of… strange.

But for us… for the hope of our future… for the kind of all-in-forever romance we both craved— it was just the right way.

Tomorrow I’ll finally get us to the alter… and then we can begin this series…

Together we'll commence the conversation and the teaching and the learning about why ... and what to do... with the absolutely true fact that…

He’s Not Your Prince Charming.

From my heart,

Diane

Ruth 4v1-12

The Wedding (Part Two)

(Click here to listen to the fifth Ruth teaching)

Verse of the Week

“BUT GROW IN THE GRACE AND KNOWLEDGE OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOR JESUS CHRIST. TO HIM BE THE GLORY, BOTH NOW AND TO THE DAY OF ETERNITY. AMEN.” 2 Peter 3v18 NASB

More Words from the Father

1 Peter 1v1-15

1 Peter 4v7-19

1 Peter 5v4-10

2 Peter 1v2-8

2 Peter 3v17-18

From my Heart

Testing for the Task

Naomi said to Ruth,

“Behold, your sister-in-law has gone back to her people and her gods; return after your sister-in-law.” Ruth 1v15

God often tests our resolve before He trusts us with an important task. Just look at Abraham: preparing to kill his own son. Or Rebekah: setting aside her own agenda to serve a servant. And David: dutifully trudging back to tend sheep after he’d been proclaimed the next King of Israel.

God was testing Ruth. Would she, when given a chance, go home? Was her commitment to Naomi mere lip service-a preference perhaps-but certainly not enough to carry her into foreign territory?

Is God testing you? Giving you an out? Checking to see if you really mean it?

Will you breathe a sigh of relief like Orpah and turn back - careful to cover your tracks and keep to your comfort zone?

I don’t always like the choice set in front of me. But if I’m honest, I do know it is a choice. And, I dare say, so do you.

And that, my dear friends, is just the way it is…

From my heart,

Diane

To which Ruth replied,

“Thus may the Lord do to me, and worse, if anything but death parts you and me.” When she saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more to her." Ruth 1v17, 18

ETC

The Task

(I found this nugget of gold roughly typed on a bit of wrinkled paper in a pocket of my old bathrobe many years ago. I don’t know who wrote it or where it came from, but I know that this is just the way He is!)

Lord, You give me a task

So utterly impossible

So totally beyond comprehension-

The very thought of it

Startles me.

I want to run, hide, escape,

Anything, Lord.

Then You electrify me.

You invade and permeate me.

You penetrate every fiber of me

Until the task is accomplished

By Your own magnificent power.

Then You praise the performance

Your creativity achieved

And You reward me beyond expectation-

As though I had done it

All by myself.

The Headlines

Rachel and Leah

Back at least six centuries before our story takes place, another love story played itself out with all the drama and intrigue of a paperback novel.

Jacob, the grandson of Abraham, went looking for a wife. He wound up working for his Uncle Laban who happened to have two daughters. Jacob fell head over heals in love with the second daughter, Rachel, but her father denied Jacob’s request to marry her without an exorbitant bride price.

Laban demanded that Jacob work without wages for seven long years before he was granted permission to marry Rebekah. Then, on the eve of the wedding, Laban deceitfully switched brides. After spending the night with his new bride, enjoying all the anticipated delights of physical intimacy, Jacob woke up with the morning light to find not his beloved Rachel, but her sister, Leah!

Having been consummated, the marriage was entirely legal and no amount of protest could alter the fact that Jacob was now married to Leah. However, his situation was not entirely hopeless. The culture in which Laban lived made allowances for polygamy. So Jacob went back to Laban, seething with anger over his deceit, and made another deal with his father-in-law. Jacob would be allowed to take Rachel as his second wife in exchange for another seven years of wage-less labor.

The animosity between Jacob’s two wives was legendary. They competed for everything from conjugal rights to mandrake leaves. Between them, however, they bore and raised a whopping twelve sons who lived to adulthood. Rachel and Leah were considered the matriarchs of the nation of Israel.

Mandrakes

Mandrakes are a root of the potato family which grew in the stony ground of the Mediterranean area. They bear yellow fruit about the size of a small tomato. The mandrake fruit was believed to be an aphrodisiac, increasing the eater’s ability to conceive. It may have also had some narcotic qualities.

On the Sunday after Phil broke up with me, I slipped into church reluctantly. I knew he’d be there, on the platform leading worship. I knew I would cry, unable to hold back the grief at the loss of the life I’d dare to dream of. 

I wanted to be strong but I wasn’t. Wanted to be cool and remote, but my red nose and swollen eyes wouldn’t fool anybody.  And so I tried to avoid anyone I might know by finding a seat in the back corner, as near the exit doors as possible.

All my fears and feelings of inadequacy and fakery and not-good-enough-ness kept my shoulders slumped and my head down. I wanted to believe what I’d been taught, that God had a wonderful plan for my life. But how was this wonderful?

What I hadn’t factored in was a redeeming Savior and His relentless pursuit of a woman who needed to know Him in a way that would fill up all those achingly empty places in my soul.

All I remember about that morning was the words of the hymn we sang:

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness,

I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand, All other ground is sinking sand,

All other ground is sinking sand.

Every word sank deep. Soothing, true, hope-filled. This was what I was longing for, what I needed. A hope built on One who would love me always, no matter what. 

Could it possibly be true? With all my less-thans, all my pretending to be better than I was, could I learn to wholly lean on Jesus’ name?

It was a theme that would echo over and over again in my life. That when dreams die and wishes don’t come true, when things happen that I don’t want and when I can’t make the hurt go away, Jesus is there...

Really there.

I went home elated. Fully surrendered, ready for whatever God had for me. I wanted more of Him. I wanted to be able to sing the last verse and mean it…

When He shall come with trumpet sound, Oh, may I then in Him be found;

Dressed in His righteousness alone, Faultless to stand before the Throne.

Something significant happened deep inside me that day. In losing something I wanted, I gained more of what I needed. 

A deeper trust.

A greater intimacy. 

A new sense of adequacy.

I was just beginning on my journey to finding Grace.

And even though I said I would finish our story today, I just can’t. Not yet. It would seem not right to tack a happily ever after ending right here.

I knew our break-up was final. Phil didn’t need space, he needed peace. And I was powerless to put that peace in his heart. It was over.

The real story is that God met me here in this broken place.

And so I’ll just have to tell you the rest next week…

And then we can get started on why I wanted to start this series in the first place.

Until then, thanks for listening,

From my heart,

Diane

part 1

part 2

Once upon a time I fell in love with Phil.

I fell in love for all the obvious reasons—all that tall-dark-handsome stuff. Throw in a really cool car, the fact that he was a drummer, the brown suede jacket (with fringe!) he wore, his way of smiling that insisted on response… and I fell head over-heels.

Falling in love was easy.

Riding the ups and downs and tensions and worries of wondering if this was The One? That was hard. 

Pain-filled. Humbling.

Our relationship didn’t develop slowly with friendship first. Instead we rushed headlong into romance. It was a fun, exhilarating, all-absorbing, drastically life changing time.

Everything about Phil was intense: every conversation, every decision, every date.

He was 26 years old, had finished college, then found his niche in music ministry. Just two years earlier, he’d quit the rock band that had defined his life for 9 years and was now a pastor at one of California’s first mega-churches. 

The man spent every minute living, breathing, and thinking ministry.

He had strong ideas about everything.  And I do mean everything.

I loved that! I’d only been a Christian for about 3 years when we started dating and I was still figuring it out, wishing for a rule book to get it right. Or at least clear instructions about what I should do and what I should avoid and what I ought to say,when. 

The attrition rate of new Believers during those Jesus Movement days scared me—  how could I avoid being one of those who “fell away”?

Phil read his Bible voraciously and made sure I was reading mine. For him, this was no rote discipline of duty. He read to discover, to absorb truth, to know God.

He thought about what he read, scribbled notes in a journal, underlined, questioned and studied. And then he talked to me, inviting me into conversation— the depth of which I’d never before experienced.

Our conversations centered around the Scriptures we were reading.  We memorized verses together, mulling over this way of living in alliance with God. It was a heady and exhilarating time with a whole unknown world opening up to me.

But I was scared.

This man was just so much better than me. Smarter, quicker, stronger, more focused and absolutely sure of his calling. I was a freshman in Bible College surrounded by students who had been raised with at least some background of faith. While I was untangling the Patriarchs’ stories, getting lost among the Prophets, and barely understanding the Sermon on the Mount (Blessed are the poor? Are you kidding?), everyone else seemed to know everything. 

And that, I think, is when I first started to pretend.

I’d nod my head knowingly, keep my mouth shut, and fake it. I copied the way others prayed, God-blessing everyone I could think of.

When Phil prayed I’d add all the expected amen and yes, Jesus affirmations in order to sound more sincere.

 Instead of understanding that growing a backlog of faith takes time, I hurried to catch up in order to feel adequate, accepted, good.

With no concept whatsoever of grace, I performed the way I thought I ought to, the way I thought Phil wanted me to. Phil was an idealist and I longed to be his ideal.

And that, no doubt, set me up for some deep disappointment down the road.

Phil was as intense about our relationship as he was about everything else. After 3 dates in 4 days, he initiated “the talk”.

He wasn’t interested in dating just to date. He was on track to marry and wanted to pursue this relationship with that in mind. What did I think?  

Well I would have eloped then and there, that’s what I thought. But I managed to say something somewhat sophisticated like me too, and so we were off.

We had rules.

No kissing on the lips, quick forehead and cheek kisses were okay. Limited hugging, but lots of hand-holding. We avoided being alone at my house and I was absolutely not allowed in his.

Phil was shockingly upfront about why. He’d not lived a pure life before giving his life to Jesus and no way was he going to mess up now. Keeping a safe distance just made sense. 

And those rules worked to make me feel like the most cherished woman in the world. Phil was protecting my purity while guarding his.He wanted more of this relationship than groping in the back seat of a car. He chose to keep his hands to himself while he handed me his heart with the purest trust.

Phil opened his life to me and let me in. He probed the corners of my introverted self— he discovered me.

I’d never had anyone want to know me the way Phil did. Slowly, timidly, I let him see the real me. I shared my worries. Let him see my inadequacies. The more we talked the more I could see my place in his life. He needed help, was barely managing to keep up with the frantic pressures of a mega church music pastor’s life. 

Our differences seemed destined to compliment rather than conflict. 

But there were two problems. Two glitches to the Ideal.

First of all, I was almost 9 years younger than Phil. Was that okay? The second question worried him more. While Phil’s ministry revolved around music, I could barely carry a tune. I couldn’t sing, play the piano, or read music. How in the world would I be a music pastor’s wife? 

His fellow pastors ridiculed the questions when he worried out loud to them. They teased him out of his intensity and told him to relax, forget the “role”. He needed a wife, not a pastor’s wife. 

Still, that sense of sureness eluded him.

We’d been told that we would just know.

Everyone said it: You’ll just know when you find the One. 

But Phil didn’t know.

He knew he loved me and made no bones about his attraction to me. He knew I loved him enough to lay aside my plans to join his, we knew our parents approved, that our goals coincided… but he didn’t just know. 

And so we broke up.

Because he didn’t know.  And he needed to know... 

Our story could have ended there. I thought it would.

Tomorrow I’ll tell you why it didn’t.

Feel free to e-mail in your questions for this new series about love and marriage from a Biblical perspective at hespeaks@ajesuschurch.org

Ruth 4v1-12

The Wedding (Part One)

(Click here to listen to the fifth Ruth teaching)

Ruth 4v1-12

The last scene of our story left us hanging. Would Boaz come through? Would the unnamed mystery man block the hopeful outcome of Ruth and Boaz’s love story?

As Ruth and Naomi wait back home with baited breath, Boaz hurries into town like a man on a mission. With cunning planning, he sets up the scene, using all the powers at his disposal to influence the outcome.

First, he politely petitions the close relative to take a seat and chat a while. Before the conversation is allowed to develop into a contractual dispute, Boaz wisely nabs ten of the leading men of the city to validate the transaction. Only then does Boaz bring up the relative’s opportunity to redeem Elimelech’s land. Just as the unsuspecting man is about to sign on the dotted line, Boaz throws a fast one. “By the way, you’ve got to marry Ruth if you acquire this particular piece of property.” That little piece of information jolts the relative back to earth in a hurry! A wife is the last thing he needs at this point in his life - he hands over his right to purchase the land to Boaz with a sigh of relief.

Somehow everyone comes out satisfied with Boaz’s solution. Naomi gets her money, the relative keeps his freedom, Ruth secures her future, and Boaz, with titillating glee, surrenders his bachelorhood to his bride. Even the onlookers join with our characters to pronounce a blessing on the young couple as they pledge their lives to each other.

This week, we’ll look a little closer at some of the customs of the day whose meaning alludes to us as we read through the story. We’ll delight together in Jesus’ choice of us as His bride, find ourselves further in love with Boaz as he mirrors our Lord to us, and delight in how He sets us up to accomplish more than we ever dreamed. And more than anything else, we’ll be reminded that our God is luring us into relationship with Himself. It is intimacy He is after - that closeness you and I long for with all our hearts.

Revel in His love this week, my dear friend. Be amazed at the grace that saved a wretch like me!

Ruth 4v1-12

The Wedding (Part One)

Verse of the Week

“THEREFORE, MY BELOVED BRETHREN, BE STEADFAST, IMMOVABLE, ALWAYS ABOUNDING IN THE WORK OF THE LORD, KNOWING THAT YOUR TOIL IS NOT IN VAIN IN THE LORD.” 1 Corinthians 15v58 NASB

More Words from the Father

1 Thessalonians 1v2-10

Psalm 57

Hebrews 6v9-19

Isaiah 26v3-9

Psalm 51v10

From my Heart 

“But Moses’ Hands Were Heavy…”

Exodus 17v12

Moses was wearing out. His job was overwhelming, impossible, too much for one man to bear. For months now he’d lived with dissatisfied, contentious people. Trying to love them was like embracing a porcupine. He’d felt the sting of their criticism one too many times. Their quarreling and grumbling were finally turning his own heart cold and angry. Right when he felt about ready to explode, the final straw came. A group of foreign invaders chose just that weak moment to attack their seemingly safe camp. A fierce battle ensued. His people turned from tearing each other apart to engaging the enemy in a fight for survival. And now those who had been increasingly critical of Moses were desperately dependent on him to help them win the war.

Have you been there? Do you find yourself faltering? Do you sometimes feel as though your life is on an emotional roller coaster and you are hanging on for dear life? That if you let go of control for one moment you will go hurling into who-knows-where? That the people you most love are the very people who most hurt? That your soul is weakening, and like Moses, your hands are heavy?

The Bible has one answer for your dilemma - one solution to your impending meltdown….

“Be ye steadfast.”

I know that’s the last thing you want to hear right now. What you really want is sympathy, and maybe permission to blast away at those who hound you, to just release all that irritation and let ‘em have it. And they deserve it. I’m sure they do. Just like Moses’ people deserved to be wiped out by the enemy who had snuck in while they were busy lambasting Moses.

But just as God expected more of Moses, He is asking more of you.

Be steadfast.

“Okay, okay, but how?” you ask. “So far, I’ve tried to just knuckle down and grin and bear it, but that hasn’t worked very well. I’ve stuffed all that frustration and plastered a smile on my face, but even I can feel the anger seeping out of my pores. How in the world do I be steadfast?”

As always, the Scriptures are imminently practical, making the impossible possible for even such weaklings as you and I. And, as is often the case, God provides an example of someone who did what He asked and thrived in the process.

In Acts 17, we read a story of a group of “prominent women” who heard the Gospel explained and expounded on by the Apostle Paul. For three weeks, they absorbed his teaching and their hearts embraced the truth. Then their husbands, friends, co-workers, and families drove Paul out of town in a fit of rage. Later, we read his letter to them as he encourages them in their new faith. In his opening lines, Paul praises them for their “steadfastness of hope” (1 Thessalonians 1v3). In Paul’s outpouring of encouragement to these persecuted people, I think we can find some clues as to how they maintained that steadfastness of hope which we long to experience.

First of all, the hope which held them steady was not some kind of Pollyanna prudishness claiming that everything would work out hunky-dory in the end. That kind of hope leads to the opposite of steadfastness as soon as we wake up to the realization that the circumstances and relationships in our lives do not always resolve themselves in our favor. Divorce happens. Children choose their own way. Economies collapse and health is a precarious gift. The hope that held these new believers steady was hope in God. They were able to look beyond the crabbiness of their husbands and the conflicts in their families to find their needs met in His presence. Their world was not stable, but their God was. That’s what got them up in the morning. That’s what kept them strong.

And they knew their purpose.

These women, (okay, there were men in the group too!) knew in their deepest beings that God had a specific purpose for them. A task to accomplish. A role to play in His Kingdom. They were keenly aware of “His choice of you.”  To the Ephesians he wrote of the “good works which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” These people woke up every day with that energizing realization that they mattered immensely.

Do you?

Are you aware of His choice of you? Are you figuring out His plan to accomplish those tasks custom designed by God for you?

Of course, these women sometimes faltered. Steadfastness does not mean perfection. Sometimes they struggled to see God in their circumstances just like you and I. Sometimes they felt overwhelmed and their footsteps slowed to a crawl. And undoubtedly, there were times when their own chore lists superseded God’s task sheet for their kingdom role. But in those times, these women had a hidden treasure that they had discovered to keep them going when the going got tough. Not only did they hope in God, not only were they keenly aware of their choice by God, these women had something else which kept them steadfast:

They had each other.

We cannot do this alone, my dear sisters. If we try to be strong and independent, always with the got-my-act-together façade firmly in place, we’ll fail. Like Moses who had his friends Hur and Aaron on either side of him holding up his arms when he grew weary, we need intimate relationships with a few other women to help us stay strong. Not the kind of friendships we so often fill our social calendars with; those connections based on common interests or compelling personalities. We need a few friends who will hold us up before the Father when we falter. We need the kind of friends who will interrupt our sad soliloquies, place their hands on our shoulders, and pray that our hearts will align with His. We need the kind of deep friendships that will do whatever they have to do to keep us from segueing into that kind of dreary complacency which characterizes so many women of faith.

Paul saw this in these women when he thanked God for “the love of each one of you toward one another,” which he noted “grows ever stronger.”

These kinds of friendships don’t happen by accident.

They rarely fall in your lap unexpectedly. You and I will have to go after this kind of love with all the determination with which Ruth went after Naomi’s friendship. Naomi wasn’t easy to love by any means. Yet when Ruth needed her the most, she held her up, helped her wait, and kept her heart steadfast.

So, if your hands are growing heavy and your soul weary, don’t give up. Don’t buckle down and “try harder.” Don’t hold all your frustrations in ‘til they threatened to burst. Instead, follow the leading of these women of faith who hoped in God, who delighted in their specific roles in the Kingdom, and who tucked a few close friends around them who would hold them up when their faith faltered.

Hanging on steadfastly with you,

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

For Sale

The real estate market in Canaan

Putting your house up for sale in ancient Israel was not as simple as it is today. In fact, the house itself wasn’t worth much. The wealth was in the land.

In the days of Joshua, God had instituted a unique system of land management which revolved around individual tribes or extended families. The assigned land belonged to its respective clan forever. When an individual fell on hard times, and needed the cash the land could offer, he could sell it only within his own clan. As if that was not limiting enough, every fifty years, in what was called the year of Jubilee, the land legally reverted back to its original owner. So if someone bought the piece of property two years before the designated year of Jubilee, he had to hand it back free of charge no matter how many improvements he had made to it.

When Boaz declared that Naomi was selling the piece of land which belonged to Elimelech, he was presenting the nearer kinsman with first rights of refusal. Since the land had to be sold within the clan, Boaz was next in line to buy it. The man refused on the grounds that being expected to take care of Ruth along with the land would somehow add unwanted burden to his own estate.

Everyone benefited from this transaction. Boaz acquired the land, and with it, a wife. Naomi was lifted out of dire poverty into independence, living off the proceeds of the sale. Ruth had a husband to provide for her, and the tribe of Judah kept their piece of Bethlehem within their borders.

OUR LOVE STORY

Part Two

The first time Phil asked me out I wasn’t even sure he had.

For several weeks after I graduated, he seemed to seek me out, though without the least hint of flirtatiousness. Somehow I’d find myself engaged in conversation with him and the flock of energized young people that always seemed to surround him.

We talked about dating standards, how far was too far, and the book that was propelling him to a higher calling: The Shadow of the Almighty by Elisabeth Elliot.

Jim Elliot, the martyred missionary, was Phil’s hero. He read and quoted and studied Elliot’s too-short life. “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”  Jim Elliot

I listened in awe. Who was this man? Dare I believe he might be interested in me?

One night we found ourselves sitting across the way from each other at the same restaurant. Phil was trying to listen to his friend justify his engagement to a woman he barely knew and constantly fought with. But his eyes kept wandering over to my table where I listened half-heartedly to the beginnings of a romance between one of my best friends and our young youth pastor.

Neither of us could stop looking at each other. 

When I walked as slowly as my feet could possibly take me to the bright yellow 1974 VW Bug my parents had given me when I’d graduated, Phil quickly cut off his futile conversation and hurried to catch up with me.  "Luis Palau is speaking at Mt. Hermon this Friday night and I’m thinking of going. I’ve heard you say he’s your favorite speaker, do you want to ride with me?" 

I mumbled some sort of barely coherent agreement and drove home on Cloud 9.  "Had Phil Comer just asked me out?"

When I saw him later in the week and he arranged to pick me up at the bank I was working at, I knew this was it. I had a date with the coolest guy in the church and I was terrified. 

Looking back I wonder why I was so afraid of Phil Comer. And why that fear kept me bound up and hidden even as his love for me coaxed me out of my self-protective shell. I was a confident girl, at least on the outside. People liked me, I fit in. But somewhere deep inside I felt like I was faking it. No, that’s not the whole truth— I knew I was faking my faith. 

Every day I got up early to read my Bible. I memorized stacks of Scripture, first with the Navigators system and then with my own 3x5 cards lined up on my bathroom mirror. I 'witnessed' to friends at school, inviting scores of kids to church. I sang in the church choir even though I could barely carry a tune, went to Bible study and took copious notes, sat in the front row every single Sunday. 

But every night I went to bed haunted by my inadequacies. 

What if my friends at church discovered who I really was? What if one of those nasty words that seemed to lurk right in the forefront of my mind slipped out? What if I 'backslid' like so many of the seemingly faithful had done? 

Could everyone tell that all my working hard to be a good Christian girl wasn’t working its way into my heart? Would Phil discover that I wasn’t good enough, that no matter how I tried I just couldn’t seem to get it right? 

On that first date I kept all that worry contained, measuring every word, every gesture, every expression on my face. But it was hard to stay uptight and pretending with Phil. His faith was so real, penetrating every facet of his life. The man oozed passion for God and talked like no one I’d heard before. 

Phil put me at ease by drawing the conversation to his favorite topic: Jesus. By the time we’d gotten to our destination I’d forgotten to be nervous, caught up in a conversation that held me in a grip of fascination. Phil asked questions, not about me and my history, but about what I thought. He introduced topics that brought the Bible right smack dab into the middle of life. With an honesty that startled me, he let himself be less than perfect. 

On our way home we stopped at one of those breakfast-all-day restaurants and I silently struggled with a dilemma. My dad was expecting me home at 11 and at this rate I wasn’t going to make it. No text messaging to bail me out. How could I tell this fully-into-his-career man that I’d have to find a payphone and call daddy? Before I’d drummed up the courage to do what I knew I had to do, Phil glanced at his watch. “Why don’t you call home and let your parents know we’re going to be late? Tell them we’re about 15 minutes away.”  Like it was just fine. Like he didn’t see me as a barely-out-of-high-school-girl. Like problems could be solved with simple solutions instead of worried and churned over until they became great moral conundrums of impending disaster.  

And that’s the way it’s always been with Phil. Simple. Black and white. Low on drama, high on solvability.  For the first time I could remember, I relaxed fully with a man. Me, the introvert whose stiff awkwardness made the social dance of dating mostly miserable. 

In the coming weeks and months I would discover that being with Phil allowed me to be more fully myself. A me emerged I hadn’t known. Because he respected my ideas and encouraged my input, I grew bolder and bolder about sharing what I thought. I read him passages I had underlined in my many books. He liked that.  

I teased him when he tried to imitate my British tea drinking habits by ordering his with cream and sugar and then failed to realize the combustibility of the squeeze of lemon he added for good measure. Thirty-six years later we still laugh about the curdled mess that filled his cup on that first date. 

And so began our journey down a road that would lead to a lifetime of learning to meld two distinctly different and seemingly incompatible lives into this state the Scriptures call 'oneness'.  It would not be an easy road. Nothing like the fairy tales I’d fill my head with. I would get my feelings hurt. There would be risk. I would learn to be honest, to trust God instead of connive to get my way.  

Most of all I would begin to understand what no one had ever told me before— that a woman’s love is wrapped up tight in her respect for a man.  

But that’s a topic for another day… as Our Love Story continues next week.

Please feel free to e-mail in your questions for this new series about love and marriage from a Biblical perspective at hespeaks@ajesuschurch.org

Last week I let you know that we are beginning a new series of letters— this time to My Girls.  For months and months I’ve been writing letters to my son, all about how women think and respond and are deep down inside.

This will be a series of letters about things like finding satisfaction and dealing with disappointments and learning how to love the men in our lives with skill and wisdom.

In order for you to understand the context of my own story, for the next couple of weeks I’ll be inviting you into the intimacies of how I met and fell in love with Phil all those years ago.

I’ll tell you what I saw in him, why I fell in love, and what I thought my life would be.

In the weeks ahead I’ll let you know mistakes I made and lies I believed. I’ll tell you what I was thinking then and what I think now. How I’ve changed and what I wish I’d known.

But first, let me start at the beginning…

____________________________________________________________

 OUR LOVE STORY

Part One

I was born with my nose in a book.

My earliest memories are of my mom’s crisp white blouse against my cheek as I snuggled into her while she read me stories. In story-land her voice smoothed to a musical cadence, her beautiful hands spread out the pages of pictures, and her words transported me into the dreamland I craved.

Maybe that’s why I emerged from childhood with fond nicknames from my family: bookworm, dreamer, ding-bat- Di. Over and over I heard my parents admonish me to “get your nose out of that book long enough to see the world around you!” 

I lived in story, just popping in and out of real life for brief visits. 

Is it any wonder my fairy tale-take on romance mixed and melded with my Bible reading and sermon-hearing as I entered the years of dating and marriage?

Growing up, my family did not know or follow Jesus. My parents were good people determined to offer the kind of home that had eluded them in their childhood: stable, loving, affectionate, firm.

When they stumbled on a church that preached Jesus and taught the Scriptures, all five of us went forward to the prayer room and surrendered our lives to the One who changes everything.

That decision set my parents on a road to reorganizing their marriage under the wisdom of the Word. I watched from the sidelines as they figured it out one halting step after another.  Learning to communicate, to lead, to submit, to humble themselves… in my teenage-know-it-all-ness I didn’t appreciate the transformation taking place.

All I saw was that I was going to do it differently— I was going to do marriage right.

I was fifteen when I first met Phil.

 For two years I sang in his 100-voice high school choir and never dared say a word to him. I stayed safely in my shell— a shy high school girl who could barely look at, let alone speak to the coolest man in the church.

In those heady days of the Jesus Movement of the 1970’s our youth group was alive with an almost electric sense of purpose. Our generation was being awakened to truth and beauty in the midst of a souring sexual revolution.

We were high on marriage, adamant about honoring each other, and busy dating.

Nearly every weekend we dated. With friends and in groups, the young men we got to know through the youth group were quick to ask us out. It would have been considered rude and snobbish to say no.

Socially awkward, with remnants of that little girl shyness still clinging to my insides, I dreaded almost every date. What would I say? How could I avoid those long, uncomfortable silences?

I’d make a list of questions to ask and things to talk about as I got ready, barely able to push past that sinking feeling that I was in for another evening of trying too hard to be fun and talkative… when all I really wanted was to be home, quietly curled up with a good book.

Don’t get me wrong. The young men in our church group were interesting and good guys. They became pastors and leaders and elders and missionaries; CPA’s and attorneys; doctors and successful businessmen. These were cream-of-the-crop young men who treated us well and kept their hands to themselves. Most of them prayed before our dates and walked us to the door when they brought us home.

And every girl in church was in love with Phil Comer.

He was tall and lanky with wavy brown hair and laughing blue eyes. He drove a souped up 1970 Lemans, wearing aviator sunglasses and soft suede desert boots.

Bigger than life, he exuded charisma and warmth. When he opened his big Bible to teach, his passion for following hard after God caught me in a maelstrom of emotion.

I wanted to be the kind of Christian he challenged us to be. I wanted to become the kind of woman he would notice.

I wanted him.

Towards the end of my senior year of high school something happened that made me dare drum up the courage to actually talk to him.

Phil’s cousin had been in a terrible accident and was dying from her wounds. Every day he made the trip to San Francisco to see her, to share the Gospel, and to pray with her. My family had just started praying together for the first time in our lives and his story had caught at our hearts.

So I told him.

And when I’d finished my awkwardly rambling words about praying and my family and who-knows-what-else, out popped the words I immediately wanted to grab back:

… I just want you to know I love you.

I meant we, really I did. We, as in my family. We, as in us: he was loved and prayed for by us.

But that’s not what I said.

And its not what he heard. 

From that moment on I couldn’t seem to quell my growing infatuation with the man. He was all my storybook-dreams come true.

He was smart and driven, a drummer who’d left his rock band with a captivating story of conversion— he was just so incredibly cool. Phil was a warrior, a leader, compelling, charismatic… and way out of my league.

Unbeknownst to me, my accidental confession had ignited Phil’s interest. He tried to get to know me, but I was so painfully shy I avoided him. How could I talk to him? What would I say? Exactly which shade of red would my face flame to?

All my worries haunted me enough to stay a safe distance away.

But that didn’t stop Phil.

(…to be continued tomorrow)

Please feel free to e-mail in your questions for this new series about love and marriage from a Biblical perspective at hespeaks@ajesuschurch.org

Ruth 3v1-18

The Proposal (Part Five)

Click here to listen to the fourth teaching of Ruth)

The Verse of the Week

“BEHOLD, I STAND AT THE DOOR AND KNOCK; IF ANYONE HEARS MY VOICE AND OPENS THE DOOR, I WILL COME IN TO HIM, AND WILL DINE WITH HIM, AND HE WITH ME.” Revelation 3v20 NASB

More Words From the Father

Revelation 22v17

Isaiah 53-54v5

Psalm 46

Mark 12v29-31

1 John 1v1-5

1 John 3v1-3

From my Heart 

Pages from the Past: September 1998 Memories Well Worth It

Yesterday, I took my son to college. With a quick hug and “See ya at Thanksgiving, maybe,” he turned to begin the next stage of his life.

Today, all I can remember is the past.

Just yesterday, it seems, he was born. Not squalling and screaming, but wide-eyed and silently staring at these two strangers who would love him, and discipline him, and teach him, and wipe away his tears for the next 18 years.

I remember the moments.

His hand resting on my breast as I nursed him. His first flinging steps as he raced from his dad’s outstretched hands to mine. His squeal as he ran naked down the sidewalk.

I remember the first time he opened his Bible and read it on his own. Listening as he led his little sister to receive Jesus. His ear-to-ear grin when he was baptized by his dad.

I remember playing army, dramatically dying, imitating machine gun fire, throwing waterfilled grenades. I remember playing hide and seek when he thought no one could see him if he covered his eyes.

I remember matchbox cars in the bathtub and G.I. Joe in my purse. Melted crayons in the car and rock collections in the washing machine.

I remember skinned knees and stitches, pimples and braces, loud music…and soft serenades on the piano as he waited for the carpool. Late night talks…and tears. Silly jokes with no punch line. Artwork on the fridge.

Eighteen years of memories.

One thing I know now - one thing I want to pass on to every mother of every little boy - all that work, the lost sleep, the worry, the spankings, the cooking, the cleaning up of little-boy-messes, the reading and rereading of Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, the hours of listening, the carpooling, the cuts and scrapes and trips to the emergency room…

Every moment is worth it.

When you kiss him good-bye, when your job is done, when you send him off to his future, you too will remember the moments. And you will agree…

It was well worth it.

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

Saving Ruth

Redemption is at the heart of the story of Ruth. Some would say it is the whole point - the very premise of the book. It is more than a rescue, for Boaz lifts Ruth out of a precariously uncertain future and hands her hope. He rewrites the rest of her story by redeeming her from a life of poverty and rejection and loneliness.

In one breath-taking scene, Boaz concocts a plan to combine two ancient Hebrew legal institutions into one brilliant strategy. He takes the premise of property redemption by a close relative (Kinsman-Redeemer) and mixes it up with an entirely different concept which involved a brother providing for his widowed sister-in-law (levirate marriage).

Kinsman-Redeemer (go’el)

This was a way by which property would be guaranteed to stay within the tribal divisions set by Moses and Joshua as they divided the Promised Land. Families descended from the patriarchs in Genesis stayed together in an assigned vicinity within the boundaries of Israel. Further, families stayed together in close community, caring for and looking out for each family member in a sort of preemptive welfare approach.

When one head of a family died, the closest relative was required to buy that man’s land and take the dependents under his protection and provision. He got the land, but he also inherited all the responsibilities that went with it. The go’el took on hero status as he redeemed the land from the possibility of hostile take over by someone outside the family (see Leviticus 25v23-25).

Levirate marriage

This concept comes out of the latin word levir, which means husband’s brother. Simply put, it meant that when a man died without leaving an heir, a single brother or next of kin was expected to marry his widow in order to carry on his name and family line2 (see Deuteronomy 25v5-10).

Read the story in Matthew 22v23-33 when Jesus takes on a crowd of Sadducees (a group of religious scholars who refuted the idea of life after death) over this idea of Levirate marriage. Trying to trip Him up, they twist this simple concept into a complex argument. Rather than enter into the fray, Jesus urges them to see the big picture: God’s redeeming love for His people throughout the ages. In response, the Sadducees were silenced and the multitudes who were listening in “were astonished at His teaching.”

Words

Hayil

In Boaz’s response to Ruth’s proposal, he calls her a “woman of excellence” or “woman of noble character.” The Hebrew word is hayil, meaning a person of wealth, character, virtue, attainment, and comprehensive excellence. This is the same Hebrew word used to describe Boaz in Ruth 2v1, translated in most versions as “wealth” or “man of standing.”

Clearly, Ruth and Boaz had both gained reputations as people of integrity and spiritual strength.

An interesting note: The ideal woman described in Proverbs 31 is also named a woman of hayil.

“An excellent (hayil) wife who can find?

For her worth is far above jewels.”- Proverbs 31v10

For weeks and months now I’ve been writing Letters To My Son, a series of answers to his question, posed a year or so ago,  “Mom, what should I look for in a wife?”

Such a simple question.  Such a long and involved way of answering.

I think he assumed I’d answer by talking, the way mothers do, about beauty being more than skin deep and all the fine qualities a good woman should have.

And I suspect he thought all this talking would take an hour or so.  At the most.

And now I’m finally just about talked out.  Thirty-five letters and ten months later.

I’ve loved your responses, mulled over your questions, treasured your insights. What has emerged from my mail is a generation of men and women who want to do relationships right. Who’ve seen what happens when a man and a woman mess up.

And you want more for yourself.

You have astounded me by your willingness to read and learn and ask questions and gather wisdom and wait for the right time.  You have no idea how honored I’ve been to be a part of the conversation.

But now I think its time to talk about some other things.

Because, you see, I’m hoping all this talk about dating and marriage and falling in love and honoring God and each other will actually lead to some of you falling in love and getting married!

And so, at the urging of some of my advisors...

(part of our blog team: Elizabeth, Kristi, Abi and Fallon)

and my niece, Brittany...

I am embarking on a new series.

A series I’m calling He’s Not Your Prince Charming.

While the Letters were written for men about women,

this new series will be written for women about men.

I'll be attempting to explain what I’ve seen and to make sense of what the Bible says about how men work and what they’re called to and why its sometimes so hard to fit our lives with theirs.

Now I am certainly no expert on men or marriage or much of anything else. I’m just me- a woman,  a wife, a mom. You know my story, how God allowed my me to go deaf and in turn taught me what it means to listen.

And since that near failure of my faith and the subsequent failure of my hearing, I have focused on listening to God in the everyday messiness of life and relationships.

And in all that listening, I’ve gathered some things to pass on to you. About what love really looks like, about conflict and communication, about honesty and humility and intimacy. I want to tell you how I found  joy in the midst of tension and rest in spite of my perfectionism. I want you to know that marriage can be both a crucible for building character and a refuge from all that performance-based scrutiny that is real life.

But first, I want to tell you more of my story.

Because this will be a series of letters to my girls about things like finding satisfaction and dealing with disappointments and learning how to love the men in our lives with skill and wisdom.

A mixed bag of lessons learned along the way of listening with both my Bible and my heart wide open.

So for the next couple of weeks I’ll be inviting you into the intimacies of how I met and fell in love with Phil all those years ago. I’ll tell you what I saw in him, why I fell in love, and what I thought my life would be.

And I’ll let you know mistakes I made and lies I believed. I’ll tell you what I was thinking then and what I think now. How I’ve changed and what I wish I’d known.

Most of all I will remind you over and over again that fairy tales are not real life. That our stories include great beauty and dark disappointments.

That falling in love is not the end of the happily ever after, but the beginning of learning to love our neighbors as ourselves.

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. I’d love to hear your questions. Though I’ll not be able to answer every one (partly because I don’t know!), I will attempt to include answers in every post.

I promise to pray and ponder and listen in the hopes that we can mine for God’s wisdom together.

Ruth 3v1-18

The Proposal (Part Four)

 (Click here to listen to the fourth teaching of Ruth)

The Verse of the Week 

“THE LORD IS NEAR TO THE BROKENHEARTED, AND SAVES THOSE WHO ARE CRUSHED IN SPIRIT.” Psalm 34v18 NASB

More Words from the Father

1 Peter 2v19-25

1 Peter 3v1-19

Psalm 34

From my Heart

Home / Not Always a Safe Place

Some of you are “making your home” amongst difficult people. You feel afflicted and picked on; judged and found wanting. No Walton family reruns, where everyone kisses each other at the end of the day and tucks them in with kindness. Instead, you absorb sarcasm and criticism, harsh words which poke and cause pain.

Oh, I’m not talking about abuse here, but about that every day brand of meanness that is so prevalent in our society today - so seemingly acceptable in its boundaries.

Not one of us is immune to the wounds received when living in this fallen world. And though it ought not to be in our homes, the reality is that sometimes it just is.

What’s a woman to do?

Some of us protect ourselves by putting a hard shell around our hearts. Others withdraw, keeping a safe distance from anyone who might lash out and hurt their tender souls. Or sometimes we fight back, returning meanness for meanness in an attempt to turn away the flood of negativity, giving them just what they deserve for hurting us so.

It doesn’t work, though, does it?

We end up feeling as ugly as we sound, or bound up and cold hearted; unable to pour on people the extravagant affection that makes a woman truly beautiful.

I have found Psalm 34 to be an invitation into the shelter of the Almighty during those trying times. This is David’s answer to those afflicted (NIV), discouraging (NLT), and humbling (NASB) realities.

Let’s walk through this Psalm together to discover how David found shelter from what he so poetically called, “the strife of tongues.”

Psalm 34

I will praise the Lord at all times. I will constantly sing His praises.

I will boast only in the Lord; let all who are discouraged take heart.

Come, let us tell of the Lord’s greatness; let us exalt His name together.

It sounds to me like David is having to pull himself out of his discouragement one painful handful at a time. By turning away from his detractors and determining to focus his thoughts on God, David’s sore heart is being healed.

Sometimes it takes herculean effort to pull yourself away from the pain of hurt feelings. The only possible way to do so is to praise God, to boast about Him, to open your mouth and sing  out loud to Him. The out-loud part is important. You can’t stay down in the dumps for long when you are singing about God’s greatness.

I prayed to the Lord and He answered me, freeing me from all my fears.

This is just what you will need: freedom from the fear that life will always be this way - that strife and conflict instead of “goodness and mercy” will follow you all the days of your life.

Those who look to Him for help will be radiant with joy; 

no shadow of shame will darken their faces.

I cried out to the Lord in my suffering, and He heard me.

He set me free from all my fears. 

For the angel of the Lord guards all who fear Him, and He rescues them.

Just like Ruth, you and I need a Rescuer - someone who will tuck you under His wing and guard your fragile heart. Rather than step in and rescue yourself by fighting back, what might happen if you, like David, chose instead to simply cry out to the Lord and wait? What if, instead of acting out your hurt and anger, you chose to bow low before the Father and honor Him with your tongue?

What if we so feared Him that we wouldn’t dare lash out?

Here’s what He says would happen:

Taste and see that the Lord is good.

Oh, the joys of those who trust in Him!

Let the people show Him reverence,

for those who honor Him will have all they need.

Even strong young lions sometimes go hungry,

but those who trust in the Lord will never lack any good thing.

To taste is to experience, to relish the flavor of God’s goodness. When you get a taste of God, especially in the face of difficulties, you take Him in and are filled with His joy. When you honor Him in spite of how you are being treated, He will see to it that you have all you need. That hunger and that longing for love will be satisfied by God Himself.

How do I know this is true?

By long, hard experience. Too often, I have taken things into my own hands, determined to stick up for myself when feeling underappreciated, or ready to sass back when someone’s irritation interrupts my peace. My face wears a frown, and filled with “righteous indignation,” I let‘em know not to mess with me!

But that is not the way of Jesus, nor is it the way of beauty.

On those all-too-rare occasions when I have chosen to follow His way of dealing with difficult people, I have known a peace and a joy and a deep-down satisfaction that puts me in instant intimacy with the Father. There is nothing like it!

If your home is not an easy place to rest, and you find yourself longing for the love and acceptance that Ruth found with Boaz, perhaps you should follow the example of Jesus…and of those “holy women of old” in our Scripture reading for today. Read over those verses again. Ponder them in the light of your own circumstances. They are loaded with wisdom, full of keys to staying safely tucked under the wings of the Almighty.

And while tucked into that safe place, look around. You just might spot Sarah…or Ruth, maybe even Esther.

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

Fear Not

“…and now my daughter, do not fear.” Ruth 3v11

If this phrase sounds comfortingly familiar to you, it may be because it is something our God says over and over again to His far-from-courageous chosen leaders. Men and women who seem invincible when we read their stories were in fact terrified at the time. Yet they didn’t stay that way. As they watched Him at work, and as they listened for His voice, they gained the temerity to trust God to do what they knew they couldn’t. Ruth was one of them.

Maybe it’s time you were too.

Read up on their situations and ask Him for the kind of faith that banishes fear.

“Fear not…

Abraham  / Genesis 15v1

Isaac / Genesis 26v24

Jacob / Genesis 43v3

Moses / Exodus 14v13

Joshua / Joshua 8v1; 10v8

Jehoshaphat / 2 Chronicles 20v17

The Remnant/ Isaiah 41v10, 13, 14; 43v1, 5; 44v2

Ezekiel / Ezekiel 3v9

Daniel / Daniel 10v12

Joseph / Matthew 1v20

Zacharias / Luke 1v13

Mary / Luke 1v30

The shepherds / Luke 2v10

Paul / Acts 27v24

John / Revelations 1v17

“Thus Sarah obeyed…and you become her children if you do what is right without being frightened by any fear.” 1 Peter 3v6

“Call to Me

and I will answer you…”

Jeremiah 33v3

What if God were to call on women to gather together to pray for their family, their friends, the people in their lives and community?

What if God were to call an army of women to engage in intense, purposeful prayer?

What if hundreds of women answered that call and came together all at once to pray in one massive all-at-the-same-time gathering?

What if every daughter, son, husband, friend, neighbor and work associate of every one of those hundreds of women got saturated in prayer?

What if we prayed all night?

What would happen?

Several years ago a group of ordinary women set out to find out what would happen if we had enough faith and determination to venture out of our comfortable beds and pray all night for the people in our own circles of influence.

We were excited, a little nervous, and filled with the hope that God would show Himself to us in tangible, powerful ways that we could understand.

And He did!

Since that first Night in Prayer, seven years ago, the number of women who come, pajama clad with pillows and goodies and hearts full of faith, has snowballed.

Women want to come! They bring burdens too great to bear alone: people they love who need Jesus, messy relationships they cannot fix, co-workers who are cold to the Gospel, teenagers taking terrible risks, and a great burden to see hearts rescued by the Redeemer.

We have seen those impossible prayers answered. Really! We have seen our own minds and attitudes and thinking changed dramatically. We have seen healing of bodies and perhaps even more miraculous, healing of relationships.

More than anything, we have experienced Jesus in a way we never understood possible.

This year would you join us?

We are inviting women to spend this Friday night, March 1 (come early 11:45 pm)  til Saturday morning 6 a.m. in prayer.

We’ll be gathering on the Westside and Downtown and at Sunset this year. I’ll be leading on the Westside, Tammy and Bethany and her team will guide you Downtown, while Carmen and Elizabeth will lead Sunset.

Together we will sing:

I love the LORD because He hears and answers My prayers.

Because He bends down and listens,

I will pray as long as I have breath!

Psalm 116v1-2 (NLT)

Will you join us?

Filled with His hope,

Diane

To sign up, go to www.ajesuschurch.org.

Ruth 3v1-18

The Proposal (Part Three)

 (Click here to listen to the fourth teaching of Ruth)

The Verse of the Week 

“THE WISE WOMAN BUILDS HER HOUSE, BUT THE FOOLISH TEARS IT DOWN WITH HER OWN HANDS.” Proverbs 14v1 NASB

More Words from the Father

Proverbs 31v10-31

Galatians 5v13-6v10

From my Heart

How to Create a Haven (Part Two)

A haven of rest and peace doesn’t just happen. It is built, one brick at a time. According to God’s Word, it is often built by a woman, a very wise woman. A woman must be willing to give her all to the building process. She will need to plot and plan with purposeful determination. If this is what we want, you and I are going to need to learn everything we can by scouring the Scriptures for any scrap of wisdom about how to build this kind of home. We need to be looking around for women whose homes carry that special “scent of home.” Then we can find ways to ply those women with questions and watch how they go about the building.

For me, one of the saddest things to see is when a woman lazes into a passive role in her home and then complains incessantly about it. What a waste! We women have been created by God with an uncanny capacity to create an atmosphere of hope and happiness in our homes and relationships. Imbedded deep within the heart of every woman is that image of the Creator who made beauty out of chaos.

Ruth listened well to her mentor, Naomi. She followed Boaz’ leading as he bought in to the vision of home. Then she threw in a little spice of her own in order to create what God intended her to have all along. Let’s look a bit more at what they built...

A place of blessing.

Every time Boaz opens his mouth, encouraging words pour out. Not merely trite compliments, but words which Ruth will mull over and treasure when she finds a moment alone. He recounts her reputation of kindness, letting her know how highly she is thought of in town. He praises her in front of his field workers as well as when they are alone. He lets not the smallest deed go unnoticed, highlighting her uniqueness as a woman.

Such words of affirmation do not come naturally for most of us, yet all of us crave them. It was Mark Twain who declared, “I can go months on a good compliment.” So are we starving our friends and children of the affirmation which only we can give? Who else is going to tell your husband that he still thrills your heart after all these years, or your teenager that you are proud of him for the way he treats his girlfriend? And shouldn’t we all have bragging rights at home - a safe arena in which to showcase our hard won victories?

A place where problems are solved together.

When someone feels all alone in their struggles, as if they were the only one able to solve their dilemmas, they begin to slowly sink into despair. And that’s just where the devil wants them - just where he wants our kids.

Isolation has long been one of the enemies’ favorite and most effective tools. But Boaz didn’t leave these two women to figure it out for themselves. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. He was all too aware of the obstacles ahead of them. Yet he took their problems on as his own. And that’s what we ought to be endeavoring to do in our homes.

Home ought to be the first place our friends and family run to when they are afraid or overwhelmed. But the only way that is going to happen in our naturally guarded society is if we women watch over our homes with the vigilance of a soldier on guard duty. If at the first sign of distress, we step into soothe and sympathize, our loved ones will feel the freedom to unburden themselves. We’ll have to be careful, though, not to look shocked at what they have to say.

Our children are facing situations we couldn’t dream up with our wildest imaginations. How foolish we often are when we pretend that terrible things will just go away if we don’t talk about them! Our families and friends need us to come alongside and pray with them. When we take their hands in ours and bring them before the Father, He picks up their problems and makes them His own. What could be better than that?

A place of promises kept.

Boaz knew that time was of the essence. As soon as it was light he hurried into town to fulfill his promise to Ruth. The words of his pledge to her were beautiful enough, but they were not empty promises. He inconvenienced himself to do all within his power to help her. Why? Because he had her best interests at heart.

How often do we make promises with the best of intentions, only to fail to follow through? How many people have we hurt in the process? This is a glaring fault of every people-pleaser like me; a flaw which creates an expectation of disappointment which is hard to shake. Yet it’s so simple to overcome. Just be careful to assign significance to the people who depend on you.

A place full of affection.

Happiness is big business these days. More people are popping anti-depressants than ever before. Yet one of the simplest (and cheapest) solutions yet to be found for emotional well-being has to do with hugs. Yes, you read it right, hugs! Here’s what every woman needs to know...

“Hugging strengthens the immune system, reduces stress, assists sleep, lowers blood pressure, and is an antidote to depression. Hugging bolsters a patient’s will to live, dispels loneliness, eases fear, opens doors to buried feelings, builds self-esteem, fosters altruism, and imparts feelings of belonging. Hugging offers a wholesome alternative to promiscuity, alcohol, and drugs.”

According to Virginia Satir, a noted American psychotherapist, people need at least four hugs a day for mere survival! We require eight daily hugs in order to maintain mental health, and a whopping twelve hugs to grow and thrive. That’s a lot of hugging!

Is your teenager thriving from all the affection dished out in your home?

How about you?

Giving is as good as getting in this case. So do yourself a favor and throw your arms around anyone and everyone who dares to enter your haven!

When Elohim, our Creator, set out to build a home for Adam and Eve, He worked and planned and purposed to create just what He envisioned. There was nothing passive about the process. He laid it all on the line. So much so that on the sixth day, He heaved a great sigh of relief and rested. If God had to rest after all His labors, what does that tell you about this job of ours? Why does it surprise us that we get worn out sometimes by the task of building homes that are truly havens?

One thing I am absolutely certain of: when I get to the end of my life, I am not going to regret one bit of work or imagination or effort I put into creating this home of mine. I might wish I hadn’t wasted so much time keeping it clean. I’ll probably bemoan the hours I spent wishing it were different. But I’ll be glad, oh so very glad, that I partnered with my Father to carve out a little haven of rest for those who call this place home.

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

Bethlehem

“The House of Bread”

Like most of you, I grew up in the city. Bread, as far as I knew it, came in clear plastic packaging which sealed it nice and fresh for my lunch box sandwich. It wasn’t until a visit to my grandparent’s farm in eastern Oregon when I was ten years old that I discovered that bread doesn’t originate in a grocery store!

In fact, just getting the barley (the primary ingredient for making bread in Bethlehem) ready to be milled for flour was an eight-step process. Add in the plowing and planting, watering and tending, harvesting and transportation, and you have a lot of hard work. Here’s a brief overview of how it happened...

1. The ripened grain was cut by men with hand sickles.

2. The grain was then bound by men and women into sheaves.

3. The stalks of grain left behind were gathered, or “gleaned,” by the poor.

4. The sheaves were transported to the threshing floor by donkey or by cart.

5. The grain was loosened from the straw stalks by the treading of cattle over and over, or by huge cart wheels, or by a threshing sledge.

6. The grain was tossed in the air with winnowing forks so that the wind could carry away the useless straw and chaff.

7. The grain was sifted to remove small stones or debris.

8. The grain was bagged for transportation and storage.¹

And that doesn’t include the mixing, kneading, rising, shaping, and baking involved with the bread itself! Not the easiest of tasks. Keep that in mind next time you pick up a loaf of Wonder Bread.

Words

Yada

This Hebrew word is at the root of dozens of expressions. Yada is used to denote God knowing us intimately and completely. It can also mean “to distinguish,” in the sense of knowing right and wrong. Yada is a term used for both an acquaintance and for sexual intimacy between a man and a woman. The most astounding use of this term, however, is “da’ at ‘ elohim,” which expresses the incomprehensible gift we are given through the Word and the Spirit: the knowledge of God.

The term “to know” is used over and over again in this scene from the third chapter of Ruth. In Hebrew, the root word is yada. And it has several uses...

“ relative”; one known (vs. 2)

“do not make yourself known” (vs. 3)

“observe (know) the place where he lies” (vs. 4)

“my…townsmen know…you are a worthy woman” (vs. 11)

“until you learn (know) how the matter turns out” (vs. 18)

Sometimes the best way to spend an afternoon is to take that noisy To-Do list with all its insistent demands and tuck it into the desk drawer. To back away from what needs to be done right now because one hundred weeks of right now’s add up to a life we really don’t want. Know what I mean?

And that’s just what I did the other day. An hour before the closing bell I strolled into the elementary school where Jude goes to school and whisked him away from all the pressures and stresses of his world. Away from the not very nice boy who always cuts in line. Away from math quizzes and spelling lists and laboriously boring penmanship practice. Away from the very real and very pressing responsibilities of a 7 year old man-in-the-making. First priority was a Very Berry milkshake from Burgerville— extra whipped cream please! He sipped and pulled and slurped his way to wholeness with all theatrics of a boy born with more charisma than a Hollywood actor.

(Jude and Sunday)

And then we just talked.

About his three best friends and his love of LEGOS and his brother and sister and “why don’t I try out some new game apps on my iPhone”, which he’d be glad to set up for me. I kept asking questions to prompt more. To watch his eyes sparkle and then squint and to catch a glimpse of the passionate man he will one day be. Someday he’ll sit across from me in a suit and tie, a briefcase by his side, his cell phone ringing with the urgency of right now. But not today. Today he’s all mine to know, to soak in, to study and relish and inhale. 

And even as he’s chattering away and asking me to “please come in and stay”, I keep wondering if this isn’t just what the Father wants more of from me. Just to listen to me talk about my world. Just to enjoy me for being me. To relish both the good and the not-so-good without the pressing urgency to fix it all right now.

Could it be that He just wants to soak me in and have me all to Himself sometimes? And could He be inviting you to spend the night in a grand non-sleeping slumber party with a bunch of other friends who want to talk to Him too? 

Friday night, March 1,  hundreds of women will gather in the Garage on the Westside and over at Sunset and Downtown to spend the Night in Prayer. The whole night.

Why don’t you consider and ask and listen to the Father and see if He wants you there? Because maybe it’s time to tuck that To-Do list in the drawer and just go and be with God.

If you’re a part of Solid Rock, we’ll be gathering March 1 at 11:59 pm until March 2 on the Westside and Downtown and at Sunset for our annual Women’s Night in Prayer.

Together we will sing: I love the LORD because He hears and answers My prayers. Because He bends down and listens, I will pray as long as I have breath!  Psalm 116:1,2

Will you join us?

Click here to sign up any of the locations: http://www.ajesuschurch.org/

From my heart,

Diane

(PART TWO)

Dear Matt,

Last week I posted the first part of Dad’s letter to you. He packed so much wisdom into his letter that I decided to give it to you in smaller bites so you would be able to absorb it all.  Here is the rest of what he wrote about dating and pursuing a woman and listening to God in the midst of it all.

I know you know this, but I’ve just got to say it again— you have a rich heritage of faith gifted to you by a father who has pursued God single-mindedly for all of your life and many years before. And for all those who are listening in, may you grow to be this kind of man by keeping your eyes on the finish line.

Love,

Mom

Dear son,

After thanking God for His peace and His promise to guide you, here is my “practical” advice:

This is what dating is for!

1. Take it slow

2. Have fun

3. Become friends…

• Can you be yourself with her?
• Do you like just being with her?
• Do you like talking to her?
• Can you share your dreams with her?
• Does she listen as you share your heart with her?
• Does she really like who your are?
• As your generation says it: is she "into you"?
• Do you look forward to the next time you get to be with her?
• Is that growing or diminishing the more you get to know her?

4. Stay pure 

• I know I’ve told you this again and again and that you’ve made that commitment already— but remember what 1Timothy 5v2 says.  You are to treat young women “as sisters, in all purity”. You wouldn’t make out with your sister!

5. Does it ‘click'? 

• I believe God has made us three-part, body, soul, and spirit. When God brings the woman to you that He has for you, it should ‘click’ in all of these three areas.
  • You should be physically attracted to her; you should think she’s beautiful! Your wife will need to know this and will want to hear you tell her often!
  • You should click in the area of the soul. Do your personalities, your goals, your dreams fit together well? You won’t be the same but you must be a good match, i.e. if you want to have three kids soon after getting married, and she wants to wait ten years and maybe not have any, it’s not a good fit.
  • You should fit well in the spiritual area. You both need to know Jesus, love Jesus, and be walking with Jesus.

6. Spend a lot of time with her around people you respect.

• Most should be older and wiser than you.
• Let them observe the two of you together.
• Let them speak into whether or not this relationship should proceed to marriage.
• Although it sounds self-serving, I believe your parents will be a huge part of this.

7. Do you have peace?

• Is God giving you continued peace as you proceed in the relationship? Granted peace is a bit subjective but here’s what I have discovered about peace. You know when you don’t have it!  And if you don’t have it, as your Mom said: “Wait! No peace? Don’t move!”
• Because it is either: 
  • Wrong girl, wrong time.
  • Right girl, wrong time; God is saying, “She’s the one, but not yet” or “first finish school”, or “you’re not ready” or “she’s not ready”.
  • OR...Right girl, right time!
• And if it is right girl, right time -- Go for it!
• Keep praying, keep seeking counsel, enjoy her company...and when you are ready and able to both support her and spend the rest of your life with her just say…

8. “Will you marry me?”

Love,

Dad

Ruth 3v1-18

The Proposal (Part Two)

 (Click here to listen to the fourth teaching of Ruth)

The Verse of the Week 

“…I GO TO PREPARE A PLACE FOR YOU.” John 14v2a NASB

More Words from the Father

John 14v1-4

Luke 6v30-38

Colossians 3

Psalm 90v1,2

From my Heart

How to Create a Haven (Part One)

Every woman longs for a home. Not just a house filled with lovely things, but a home to run into and be safe. An abode where love spills on to everyone who enters there. A dwelling overflowing with comfort. A nest which pulls people in by its peace.

Naomi dreams of this for Ruth. She wants to see her daughter blossom in a place where she is valued. Her hopes for Ruth have risen from a heart which finally sees her for the jewel she is. It is this very desire which propels Naomi to urge Ruth to throw out convention and risk rejection in order to go after what they both need.

What about you? Are you willing to make yourself uncomfortable, to put your grand sense of self aside in order to create the kind of home you long for - the kind of home God longs for you to build?

I have to ask myself the same question. You see, all my life I’ve been called a dreamer. As I leaned on my window sill overlooking the rooftops of the town in which I grew up in Europe, I weaved lovely stories of life as it ought to be - a handsome prince, a house full of children who talked just like my Chatty Cathy, and me, pampered and petted and adored.

Reality painted a different picture. My handsome prince had to go to work, my children argued, whined, and complained (sounding an awful lot like me!) and moments of pampering got lost somewhere between loads of laundry

Are you disappointed that your home isn’t what you wish it were? Do you gaze around and wonder what happened? Do you look at your kids or your roommate and feel your heart sink in discouragement?

Here’s what I have discovered along this adventure of listening and learning from God’s Word for the last three decades: the kind of haven I envision for myself doesn’t just happen,

it is built on purpose.

This third chapter of Ruth provides for us a picture of what our homes can be. Here, the Father gives us a glimpse of home as He intended it to look and feel and smell. Whether your home is an apartment or a mansion, a cottage or a cot in the corner, it can be a place of refuge for all who enter its doors.

Let’s take a look at what Ruth and Boaz, with a little nudging from Naomi, created in the beginnings of their home.

A place of beauty.

From the beginning, God created man and woman for a beautiful place. The Garden was a reflection of His creativity and care - His welcome of us. It was there that He placed in our hearts an instinctive embracing of beauty which has never gone away. Naomi knew this. She helped Ruth to bathe and slather on perfume and to put on her finest clothes, not to impress Boaz, but to welcome him.

It takes time to create beauty. It takes effort. It takes forethought and planning. Yet when our home looks and feels and smells beautiful, we can’t help but sigh a great sigh of relief and rest there.

A soft place.

“Then she came softly…” I love that phrase. Here we get a glimpse of Ruth’s unique imprint on the scene…her signature style. As we go about building our home we add our uniquely gentle touch. By our own example as well as by our watchful enforcement (think hall monitor with a smile), we can create and defend an aura of gentleness within our relationships. We can insulate our homes from the harshness of the outside world - a world where horns blare, bloggers decimate strangers, teachers belittle teenagers, and peers point out every misstep. Our home ought to offer relief from all that in-your-face sort of confrontation.

And mothers, take note. If you follow the current strategies in child-raising by allowing your children to “work it out for themselves,” you will be an unwitting participant in what often amounts to sibling brutality. We have all seen it happen. Voices escalate, words proliferate, and the strongest, ugliest, meanest man wins. Training our children to control their feelings, reign in their tongues, and learn to communicate in loving, direct dialogue takes a lot of work. It requires constant vigilance and incredible wisdom as well. We know who to go to for that, though, don’t we?

A delightful place.

Ruth gave Boaz the surprise of his life when he woke up in the middle of the night to find her curled at his feet. Heart thumping, adrenalin surging, Boaz sat up with a start. His response to Ruth’s overtures bubbled up and spilled over her in the form of an outpouring of praise. He couldn’t say enough about her kindness to him in that moment. What about you? Do you often bring exclamations of delight from those who reside in your home? Are you filling your family and friends with memories of delightful surprises - those extra touches that speak volumes to whom they are directed? When I got the rare chance to visit my parents in their home in the mountains all by myself, my mom delighted me each night by slipping into my room, turning on the electric blanket, and folding back the bedding. That small gesture practically shouted love and care to me.

What would bring delight to those you love the most? Perhaps it’s time to give it some thought.

A place of discovery.

Every once in a great while there comes into our lives someone who “gets” us. They find us fascinating instead of weird. They shine a flashlight into the corners of our personalities to discover strengths we didn’t know we had. When we find such a treasure in a friend, we find ourselves feeling freer than we’ve ever felt before. Those of us who are kind of quiet begin to talk. Talkative people rest. Walls fall down and our hopes and dreams seem doable.

Boaz listened to Ruth. He asked questions instead of firing accusations. He waited to interpret her behavior through the grid of respect and what he discovered was a gold mine. How can we unleash that sense of discovery in our own homes? Could we, like Boaz, learn to believe the best of those we love? Dare we ban that attitude of distrust we find ourselves so naturally reverting to? What if we choose instead to highlight each other’s value and overlook each other’s flaws? I don’t know about you, but that’s the kind of heart I want to come home to.

Whether your home is a suburban house with a husband, children, and a menagerie of pets or an apartment with three roommates, are you making it a place of rest and refuge? Is it time that you, like Naomi, threw off that passive complacency and poured yourself into creating a home for those you are called to love?

Somehow, I think, this longing in our hearts for home may be part of the Father’s plan. He wants to use us to create an alluring glimpse of God’s dwelling place. And that just makes me want to jump in and get to work!

To be continued tomorrow…from my heart,

Diane

ETC

 How Big is a Scoop?

A pinch of salt, a dash of nutmeg, a dot of butter. We can imitate these in our kitchens. But an ephah of barley? Six measures of grain? Is that a lot or a little? A token or a treasure?

According to historians, an ephah of barley was an enormous amount of grain. It would have weighed between 30 and 50 pounds by today’s measurements. Considering that an average bag of whole wheat flour which we buy at the grocery store weighs about five pounds, Ruth gleaned a lot of grain! In one day, she gathered the equivalent of a month’s ration of grain for the average male worker in Israel.

A measure is uncertain terminology and, in fact, is not specified in the text. Translators filled in the blank with a vague term in order to keep the sentence coherent. He measured six somethings of barley into her upheld cloak. It could have been six shovelfuls or even six omers, which would have equaled about half of what she’d carried home from the fields. Whatever it was, it was more than enough to convince Naomi that Boaz’ intentions were serious. Their days of hunger were over.

Words

Kanap

What in the world was Ruth up to when she snuck up to the place where Boaz was sleeping, uncovered his feet, and lay down? Was this some sort of sexual seduction? Not at all! Ruth was using a common idiom for a proposal of marriage. The phrase “corner of your garment” is kanap. It is a word which can be applied either to the edge of his covering or as coming under his wings for protection. It is the same word Boaz used in Ruth 2v12 when he admired Ruth for seeking security in God.

Ruth may have been bold, but she was not in any way suggesting something shocking. Boaz response to her proposal was immediately enthusiastic, for he knew exactly what she meant. He had given her plenty of reason to believe that he held a strong affection for her. She was simply encouraging him to pursue his interest. Still, he knew that others could possibly perceive her presence at the threshing floor late at night as inappropriate, so Boaz took steps to protect both her purity and her reputation.

Note: for a really interesting rabbit trail, read what Jesus had to say about measurements in Luke 6v30-38.

(PART ONE)

Dear Matthew,

Last week I wrote to you about that worry you have experienced more than once about whether or not you should pursue someone.  My answer rambled on a bit in mom-like fashion, but at the end I promised that your dad would write this week with his ever-so-practical and always Biblical perspective.

What follows is a wise man’s advice to his wise son’s query about finding God’s will in the area of dating and marriage. I’ve actually split his letter in two so that you can think long and savor his wisdom.

One more thing: while you read this, take note of why I am still so in love with your dad. As I’ve said before, a woman’s love grows and deepens and expands along with her respect for a man. Pretty good reason, if you ask me, to stay hard on the path to wisdom as you follow close to Jesus and soak yourself in His Word.

I love you,

Mom

Dear Son... and other Dudes reading this,

First, I am so blessed to have a son who is seeking to know and do God’s will, and God’s will only! I believe God is eager to direct anyone who truly wants to be led by Him.

My advice is to begin by thanking Him that He answers prayer, and that He will show you the way you are to go!

One of the many favorite verses I go to myself, and share often with people seeking to know God’s will is Psalm 32v8. “I will instruct you and teach you in the way that you should go; I will counsel you with My eye upon you.” Here the God who created the heavens and the earth, and who made you, promises to give you His private counsel. That’s both amazing and comforting.

As you know son, we must always look at Scripture in context so take a look at what the writer says just before in verse seven; “You are my hiding place. You preserve my soul from trouble; you surround me with songs of deliverance.”

As you hide yourself in God you can thank Him that He will protect you from making a mistake or going in the wrong direction.

Look at verse nine.  As is common in Scripture, there are conditions to the promise. “Do not be as the horse or as the mule which have no understanding, whose trappings include bit and bridle to hold them in check, otherwise they will not come near to you.” In other words, as long as you don’t go running off like a wild horse who refuses to be tamed and led by its master---God will give you His counsel. To me, that brings great peace and great comfort!

Instead of saying, “God, I really like this girl so I’m going after her now. Please bless my plans!” Say, “God, I really like this girl— so I’m going to get to know her, and as I do, I thank You that You will reveal to me if she is right for me!” 

Instead of saying, “Bless my plans…my will be done”.

Say, “God, show me Your plans…Your will be done”.

There is a huge difference.

While I do completely agree with your Mom that there are no two perfect people who form a perfect match who have a perfect marriage with zero issues to work out. I also know from experience and from the Scriptures that…God will be as involved in your life as you allow Him to be! 

I believe your Mom, was the one God brought to me when I was searching, when I was praying, and when I was being careful not to make a mistake. In that very real way, ours is a ‘marriage made in heaven’.  I still love her and I still think she’s beautiful after 35 years of marriage. This week marks our 36^th Valentines Day celebration, and yes, I got her a present!

My advice son, is to begin by thanking God that…

1. He is leading you

2. He will protect you

3. He has promised to guide you

Now.. let His peace, which is subjective but very real, flood your heart and soul.

Love,

Dad

Next week more about how to determine if you should continue to pursue a particular girl.  

The Proposal 

Ruth 3v1-18 (Part One)

(Click here to listen to the fourth Ruth teaching)

As the fourth scene of our story opens, a light begins to dawn in Naomi’s heart. All these inexplicable events which “happened to happen” to her and Ruth begin to add up to a revolutionary idea. Maybe, just maybe, God is in control after all.

She sees that she has a part to play in this drama - an essential role. Whereas previously we pitied Naomi for her irritating passivity, now we watch as she plunges into her position as matchmaker. Naomi has found her niche and she revels in it!

Naomi’s perspective on Ruth’s role has changed seemingly overnight: from tagalong servant to treasured daughter. As Naomi scurries to undo some of the damage of Ruth’s backbreaking labor in the gleaning fields, she sets about to secure a home for her future. With explicit instructions, she directs Ruth in how to nab her man.

A bath?...Check...Lotion and perfume?...Check...Feminine clothes?...Check.

Naomi knows just what to do. And Ruth enthusiastically complies even as she adds her own imprint to the intrigue. What man could possibly resist the charming way in which Ruth “comes softly” into his world and invites his love? Boaz certainly offers no sign of resistance to Ruth’s overtures, blowing every book’s theory that men don’t like to be chased! He passionately welcomes Ruth even as he protects her purity and her reputation.

The scene closes in suspense. Will Boaz come through? Will Ruth be rescued? Is the home the women have been longing for about to become a reality or another dismaying disappointment?

This week, we will spend some time delving into the idea of rest and security and home.

Just as Ruth and Naomi threw off any vestiges of passive complacency, we’ll be challenged to actively cooperate with God to create a place of beauty for those He calls us to love.

Most of all, as we involve ourselves in this scene, we will fall head over heels in love with Boaz. He is the man of our dreams; the one we’ve been looking for our whole lives. Our protector, our provider, our Prince Charming…he’s the man!

Come along with me as we open the curtain on Scene Four of our story to reveal our Redeemer.

The Verse of the Week:

“…I will give you rest.” Matthew 11v28b NASB

More Words from the Father:

Matthew 11v28-30

Ruth 3v1-18

Psalm 116

From my Heart:

 A Rare Place

Outside the quaint cottage where we spent our honeymoon, a conglomeration of letters set in a beautiful mosaic had us completely stumped. Framed by planters and overflowing with cascading blooms sat the wonderfully curious phrase, “Resta bitfo rtisa ra replace tor estat.” At first we thought it an odd bit of Scottish poetry or some beautiful Gallic saying. But, as the days passed and our eyes adjusted to the strange configuration of letters, a message emerged. The message intended all along:

Rest a bit for tis a rare place to rest at.

For two glorious weeks we rested at that rare place. It became our respite from the real world - our own secluded island, far from the cares and chaos of life in the fast lane. Eventually, however, we had to go back. Back to work. Back to bills. Back to all the hassles and hurts that are a part of the reality of living in this world.

For my husband and I, that place was magical. We found joy and peace and wonder and delight under the eaves of its shelter.

A rare place to rest at.

After months of misery, Naomi finally wakes up one morning and realizes that it’s time to stop sulking, time to “get off her duff,” time to stop making excuses and create for Ruth what she’d been longing for all along. A place of rest.

The Hebrew word used here and throughout Scripture is manoah. Naomi set out to find manoah for Ruth.

Rest.

Security.

A home.

Naomi wanted more for Ruth than the cold cave they had found shelter in. She wanted what we all want. She wanted a rare place to rest at.

Is that what your home is?

Is your home a sanctuary from the storm? A cozy place to curl up and relax? A place of welcome? A place of delight?

What would your kids say…or your husband…or your friends? Would your roommate agree?

Maybe it’s time, like Naomi, for us to wake up and start over - to clear out the closets full of criticism and conflict. Time to smooth down some ruffled feathers and sing a soothing song of joy and acceptance. Maybe it’s time to get off your duff and get to work, rethinking, rebuilding, renewing, and restoring the ruins of relationships that have become anything but restful. Time to unscramble the letters and to plant some beauty there.

It wasn’t until Naomi stopped thinking about herself and started loving on Ruth that her own joy returned.

I can just see Naomi as she concocts her female scheme. Washing Ruth’s tangled hair. Hauling water for a long hot soak in the tub. Finding perfume for her to slather on. Rummaging through their clothes to create something appealing. Naomi is having the time of her life! Gone is the sour expression and depression that have characterized this woman since the first sentence of our story. Now Naomi is happy, and busy, and full of hope and creativity.

I don’t know anything about your home, but I know about mine.

I know that “if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” I know I set the tone of our home. When everybody is uptight, it’s usually because I’ve been on a rampage, trying to shape everyone up and quiet everyone down. On the other hand, if I welcome my friends and family into my home with peace in my heart and the presence of the Holy One shining through me, they respond with an inexplicable sense of rest.

Light a few candles, spray around some perfume, and they sink in and stay a while.

Manoah.

How about it? Should we try? Can we cheer each other on as we attempt, with Naomi, to provide a place of rest for those we love?

Let’s unscramble those letters. Let’s write with beauty. Let’s…

Rest a bit, for ‘tis a rare place to rest at.

From my heart,

Diane

ETC...

A Type of What?

A type is a theological term referring to an event or person in the Old Testament which foreshadows its fulfillment in the New Testament. The idea of what constitutes a type and what it represents is fraught with controversy and confusion. It seems best to err on the side of caution when identifying a biblical type while recognizing that the Old Testament stories and prophesies inevitably point to the Messiah.

Three rules of hermeneutical interpretation2 lend legitimacy to types:

1. There must be an obvious resemblance between the type and the antitype.

2. There must be some biblical evidence that God intended it to be a type.

3. A genuine type must clearly portray, without any mystery, what is being prefigured.

Boaz is clearly and without controversy an Old Testament type of Christ. His role as the Kinsman-Redeemer who steps in and rescues Ruth is a provocative picture of Jesus. Many commentators, including the late J. Vernon McGee, interpreted the entire book of Ruth as a beautiful prefiguring of Christ. There is undoubtedly an underlying sense of double meaning throughout the story. It is, however, a genuine historical story involving people who actually lived, who loved, and who married in the town of Bethlehem.

Boaz was a man. Imperfect and flawed. In every way real. The story doesn’t show any of that. Instead, the author beckons us along to peer down the ages and imagine what it might be like when Jesus comes.

The original readers didn’t know what we know now. They couldn’t imagine Jesus riding into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey, then paying the awful price for our redemption. But we know, and that knowing makes this story come alive.

While reading about Boaz, remember Jesus. You’ll find yourself falling in love with Him right along with Ruth.

Words

Manoah

When Naomi seeks a home for Ruth, she uses the Hebrew word manoah. It is a noun designating a resting place. The word does not indicate a freedom from hard work as much as it is points to a particular location where someone settles down and remains.¹ Since this is not the typical word used to denote a house, translators chose a variety of English words to give its meaning:

ESV: rest

NASB: security

NLT: a permanent home

NIV: a home

This rest can also mean a spiritual place of rest for the soul. In the midst of difficulties and stress, the Psalmist cried out to the Lord and He answered with manoah, rest for his soul.

“Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; Yes, our God is compassionate. The Lord preserves the simple; I was brought low, and He saved me. Return to your rest, O my soul. For the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.” Psalm 116v7

Dear Son, Many months ago you came to me with a pressing question. I could see all the bottled up worry working its way through your limbs… fidgets, incessant nose rubbing, scratching imaginary irritants—you were itching and twitching with anxiety.

And of course, that got me worried! What’s going on? What’s the matter? I barely got my concern out of my mouth when your words burst like an unkinked hose.

“I don’t know what’s the matter. I want to move deeper into a committed relationship with this girl. She’s perfect in every way. She loves God passionately, likes me, encourages me, shares my goals, is funny and gorgeous… but I feel like God keeps saying ‘No, wait’. And I don’t know why. What’s wrong? Is it me? Is it her?”

On and on you spilled your angst at not knowing what God seemed to be saying to you. You thought you knew your own heart, but not God’s. And that bothered you...A lot.

So I told you what I learned, "You are experiencing what the preachers and writers and listeners from times past used to call 'a check in your spirit'”.

My advice? 

Wait... “If you do not know what you ought to do stand still until you do.” F.B. Meyer  wrote that  Be still... Shh. Quiet all that noisy self-talk   Stop talking... to your friends, to yourself  Listen… until you’ve had a chance to hear that voice and figure out what He’s hinting at 

What do you hear in the silence?

Is there a nagging worry you’ve tried to ignore? Something not quite right but not blatantly bad?

Or are you just afraid...

That you’ll be labeled a player if a few weeks from now you realize you just don’t click?  That you might get hurt? Embarrassed? Rejected?  Or are you, perhaps, still ingrained with the mystic idea that ‘the one’ is waiting just around the corner to fulfill all your dreams? The perfect match. Your soul mate.

Son, you know,  I don’t believe in perfect-soul-mate-matches-made-in-heaven. More often, I see two God-centered people blending and giving and compromising and rubbing off rough edges and working it out and figuring it out and becoming one… and that’s rarely easy or ideal or especially romantic. 

Too many soul-probing questions without definitive answers?

I have learned not to push those questions underground because God speaks so quietly. He presses on our soul subtly. He asks us to lean in a little closer, He invites us to linger over Scripture a little longer.

So here’s my list of mom-made advice:

• Wait
• Watch
• Stand still
• Lighten up
• Go play soccer with some friends
• Savor a cup of coffee and a good book
• Relax
• Don’t force it
• Have fun

And then go talk to Dad, because he’s not so mystical about finding God’s path. He’ll ask questions and write pro’s and con’s charts on yellow pads of paper.  He’ll say, “Invite her over!” and then he’ll embarrass you and make everyone laugh and you’ll know a lot about how you really feel.

And so next Monday, I’ll post just what your dad has to say. Maybe he’s got a story to tell…

From my heart,

Mom

Questions & Comments: Go ahead and ask and I’ll try to answer as best I can.

• How this looks in real life?
• Do you have a question about what I mean? 

Ruth 2v1-23

The Gleaning (Part Five)

(Click here to listen to the third Ruth teaching)

Verse of the Week:

“...WE WERE AS GENTLE AMONG YOU AS A MOTHER FEEDING AND CARING FOR HER OWN CHILDREN. WE LOVED YOU SO MUCH THAT WE GAVE YOU NOT ONLY GOD’S GOOD NEWS BUT OUR OWN LIVES, TOO.” 1 Thessalonians 2v7b, 8 NLT

More Words from the Father:

1 Samuel 1v19-2:11

1 Samuel 2v18-21

John 19v25-27

Ruth 4v15

Psalm 127

Psalm 78v1-7

From my Heart:

Pages from the past: September 1998

Off to School

 Today my little boy went off to school.

He was afraid. I was afraid.

He was excited. So was I.

He was brave. I cried.

We chattered cheerfully in the van on the way to school. He looked so fresh and grown up in his new haircut, plaid shirt tucked neatly in, appropriately cool baggy pants and black suede tennis shoes. I took pictures in front of the flagpole. He smiled.

Walking into the classroom, he gripped my hand in sweaty palm and sat oh-so-quietly at his pint-sized desk.

“Don’t leave yet, Mom. Wait ‘til all the other parents go…”

I rubbed his back and labeled his supplies. Crayons, scissors, lots of glue, a binder covered in G. I. Joe stickers. I took a picture of my little boy at his desk. No smile.

Time for Mom to leave. One last squeeze of his shoulder. One last kiss on his cheek and out the door.

That’s when the tears betrayed me. Unbidden, they pushed against my eyes, threatening to embarrass me completely. Gulping them back, I waved with false cheer at a neighbor and drove in my empty van to my empty house. So quiet.

No chaos, no arguments, no laughter, no messes.

I have looked forward to this day. I have made plans. For years I had said, “When my children all go to school…”

Yet today I can do nothing. I grieve an end of an era. An era I have loved, filled with memories I cherish.

I did my share of complaining to be sure. “Can’t I even go to the bathroom alone?!” But I loved the unrushed mornings cuddling with blankie and bear and my squirmy little boy.

I loved the Lego creations and the storybooks and Wee Sing tapes. I loved sidewalk chalk and popsicles dribbling down dimpled chins. Rainy days spent building forts in the family room with blankets anchored with encyclopedias.

Most of all, I have loved the absolute trust in his eyes. He knows I am here for him to protect him, to be proud, to understand.

For I am Mom. Matthew’s mom. The Best-Mom-in-the-Whole-World.

That is who I was yesterday when I held him as a babe in my arms. It is who I am today as I leave him at his desk- at school. And tomorrow, when he is a man, I will still be…Mom.

From my heart,

Diane

ETC.

King Eglon

“the very fat man” 

The ancient Jewish Midrash claims that Ruth was actually the daughter of the infamous Moabite King Eglon. Of course, no one can know for sure, as there is no concrete written record to confirm such speculation. Reaching back into history, let’s take a look at his story…

Sometime towards the beginning of the period of the Judges of Israel, a despised Moabite King led a coalition of Moabites, Ammonites, and Amalekites (all of whom were distant relatives of the tribes of Israel, descendants of Lot’s incestuously conceived sons) who attacked and conquered the land of Promise. King Eglon and his entourage set up some sort of headquarters at Jericho also called the City of Palms. There they collected a required monetary tribute from the subdued yet subversive Israelites.

In 1933, a British archeologist uncovered the Palace of Eglon. It was a single structure set in solitude amongst the rubble of the once great city of Jericho. On top of the building was an “aleah,” a rooftop sitting room that provided a cool retreat from the heat of the day. These rooms were built to catch the prevailing winds, a kind of unmechanized air conditioning, which only the very rich enjoyed. It was there that King Eglon sat in all his condescending splendor to accept the tribute so abhorrent to his conquered enemies.

For 18 years, King Eglon ruled over the Israelites, draining their already subsistent economy to the point of poverty.

Finally, the over-burdened people of God “cried out to the Lord” (Judges 3v15). Yahweh had prepared a man for this very purpose - a man named Ehud. His name means “loner” and indeed, he stood alone for God in his courageous and dangerous mission. Ehud was an interesting choice. The text states that he was left-handed, but a further look at the Hebrew wording indicates that in reality, he relied on his left hand due to the fact that his right hand was rendered useless. Ironically,

Ehud was born into the tribe of the Benjamites, which means “son of the right hand.” In spite of his handicap, or maybe because of it, God used him to set His people free from a particularly oppressive enemy. Here’s how it happened: Ehud studied his opponents meticulously before crafting his daring plan. He knew that the guards had become careless over the years. No one had ever made a valid threat on their king’s life. It was their habit to haphazardly search visiting emissaries with a cursory search for weapons on the right side of the body. After all, every soldier knew that weapons might be hidden on the right side of a man’s body where they could be drawn swiftly. In addition to that useful piece of knowledge, Ehud understood that the king was an enormously obese man who spent his days on the aleah in an attempt to alleviate his discomfort in the hot Middle Eastern climate. His own country of Moab sat high on a plateau, cooled to a comfortable year round temperature by breezes from the Mediterranean Sea.

Crafting a custom-made sword, which historians believe would have been at least 30 inches long, he strapped it to his left side before entering the King’s chamber to pay his tribute. After much bowing and a plentitude of eastern obeisance, the entourage filed out. But not Ehud. He turned to the king and whispered, “I have a secret for you…”

At once, the foolish King sent his bodyguards out; eager to hear what he must have thought would benefit him in some way. Alone, now, Ehud approached the King, thrust the double-edged sword straight towards his belly, and killed him. To his surprise and horror, the sword disappeared into the fat man’s belly without a trace (My, the gruesome stories that must have proliferated around the campfires that night)!

Quickly, Ehud slipped out of the rooftop chamber, locking the doors behind him. As he hurried out of the palace he could hear the worried whispers of the servants, wondering why the King seemed to be taking so long. “Perhaps he’s going to the bathroom,” (the less-than-polite transliteration of the idiom “he’s covering his feet” in verse 24) the servants murmured, as they went about their business. Meanwhile, Ehud escaped unnoticed and blew a trumpet in a signal to summon the fighting men of Israel. They gathered at the ford of the Jordan River, cutting down thousands of Moabite men fleeing their fallen king.

-Read all about it in Judges 3-

Midrash

The Jewish Midrash is an ancient commentary on parts of the Hebrew Scriptures. These were written by rabbis “both steeped in Bible and absorbed by the Jewish questions of their time.” In particular, the “Great Midrash” is the name of the collections linked to the five books of the Torah (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy) and the “Five Scrolls” (Esther, Song of Songs, Ruth, Lamentations, and Ecclesiastes).

Compiled between 200 and 1000 A.D., these writings are, in effect, commentaries, which have earned the respect of Jewish scholars and teachers. These documents hold no claim to infallibility and are used primarily for the application of Biblical teaching to Jewish life and law.

(PART FOUR)

Dear Matthew,

I know your iron clad commitment to sexual purity. I admire your decision to keep a close guard over your passions, reigning in all those desires that can make life a constant battle for a man. I have just the faintest clue of how hard it must be and that sets me to praying for you every day; for strength, for wisdom, for protection from an enemy who would love to sideline you through spur-of-the-moment stupidity.

And then I go to a gathering of Believers on Sunday and see all those beautiful young women vying for men’s attentions. Some are chaste and subtle and content to remain hidden until God brings them to a man in His time.

But others are not. Many are not. And they dance their bodies before the eyes of men who must look away or burn with forbidden desire. Too much skin, too tight jeans, too bold in their beauty.

Why do they do it?

What are they saying?

What do they want, these women who love God and allure men with suggestions of more?

Here’s what I think— because I’ve been there and done that and just barely escaped giving more of myself than I ought. And we’re all the same, us women. Deep down we need and want and long for the same things.

Five Things Every Woman Longs For:

1.  Every woman longs to be desired.

This is why women flirt, why some uncover too much. There is this little girl inside of every woman that longs to draw a man to herself. To be sought after, to be wanted. And yes, this goes for the sexual area of her relationships as well. A woman cannot separate her sexuality from her soul. To be desired sexually feels like being desired as a whole— that is what every woman thinks and believes and feels.

2.  Every woman longs to be loved.

It is a woman’s deepest need; for a good man to love her for who she is, to love her no matter what, to love her forever. Every woman is born wanting this and many— far too many women spend their entire lives hoping and wishing and working and sacrificing everything in order to get this kind of love. Yet few ever do. And I think God weeps.

3.  Every woman longs to be cherished.

To be valued and considered, to be wanted. To be treated like a fragile piece of crystal rather than a disposable plastic mug. Paul goes so far as to command husbands to cherish their wives, comparing women to the Church and husband to the Savior. (Ephesians 5) This translates in a woman’s mind to carefulness— with her feelings, with her body, with her soul.

4.  Every woman longs to be protected.

It is there even in the fiercest of women, this need to be watched over and guarded from harm. Instinctively, a woman knows that God created men to protect women, to represent God’s warrior-like protection over His creation. Which is why a woman who marries a man who did not protect her purity while dating or engaged, often feels an inexplicable distrust of him.

5.  Every woman longs to be led.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… and again… and again. Women want to be led. Not bullied, not dominated, not forced. And we all know there are mean men out there who are tyrants. But the complaint I hear by far most often from women is not about abuse— it’s about passivity. Men who cannot summon the energy or the confidence to step out and lead, or initiate, or communicate where in the world they’re headed.

To lead takes tremendous courage, I know, but dear sons who are listening, I pray you will have the courage to lead as you are led by Christ.

From the heart of a mom who prays for you and for your friends,

Mom