The Hiding Place....

Excerpt from The Hiding Place

“Fridays….the recurrent humiliation of medical inspections…a Fall chill had settled into the walls.  Still, we were forbidden even to wrap ourselves in our own arms, but had to maintain our erect, hands at sides position…..”Surely there is no more wretched sight than the human body unloved and uncared for.”  

…I could not see the necessity for the complete undressing:  when we finally reached the examining room a doctor looked down each throat, another..at our teeth, a third between each finger….after all that we trooped down the cold corridor and picked up our X-marked dresses at the door.

But it was one of these mornings while we were waiting, shivering in the corridor, that yet another page in the Bible leapt into life for me.

HE hung naked on the cross. 

I had not known – I had not thought….the paintings, the carved crucifixes showed at least a scrap of cloth.  But this, I suddenly knew, was the respect and reverence of the artist.  But oh – at the time itself, on that other Friday morning – there had been no reverence.  No more than I saw on the faces around us now.

I leaned toward Betsie(her sister) and said, “Betsie, they took HIS clothes, too.

 Ahead of me I heard a little gasp…”Oh Corrie, And, I never thanked Him.”

                                      ~Corrie Ten Boom (The Hiding Place)

Dare to be a DAVID......

It is not often that I am shocked. 

But, as I sat in our seat at church yesterday, I was truly, deeply..intimately….

Shocked.

And, in a good way…

Truth was told from the “pulpit” of the church I attended yesterday.

Painful truth.

The minister’s story began with beloved King David…the “man after God’s own heart”.  I have always loved King David…I think because he is the author of at least some of the Psalm and because he was not perfect in his life but he was a man who wanted so badly to give God his whole heart. 

Even as a very young girl, I loved the Psalm. 

Real life is portrayed in the Psalm. 

They were written in the language of the human spirit. They record, in powerful, poetic language, a person's response to God. From a desperate cry for help to an ecstatic shout of joy, each Psalm attempts to reach out and communicate with the God of the universe.  The Psalms of complaint are a model of Godly response to suffering. Rather than expect us to remain stoic through our suffering, God wants us to pour out our hearts and souls to him. He also, however, wants us to remember His loving care for us and how he has forgiven our sins. This will help us trust Him in the future.

Written by: Ted Phillips

It was not a “neat and tidy” lesson we heard yesterday.  Yes, the minister had an outline for his listeners to follow as he poured through scripture, the staff of his words telling us about King David.  Yes, he stayed on task with the outline.  Scripture was read and we were given time to find and reflect on each passage. 

From that perspective, I guess it was “neat and tidy” and I, who love organization, was able to follow in rapt attention… 

But, then I heard these words and everything changed… 

“You are only as sick as your secrets”…. 

He told David’s story….which most of us in the fellowship have heard and know and understand.  David, King, rather than going into battle, stayed home and committed adultery, deception, murder and sins which go hand in hand with such behavior.  He told how this beloved David had begun as a simple shepherd boy, grown to become King and fallen to great sin.  The minister explained to us that while David’s sin was horrific as is all of our sin, it was his seeking to cover up the sin which caused David’s heart to flood with guilt and in that guilt David fell and in that falling, David came to know God in an even more real and intimate way…. 

David learned three things about the Agony Of Guilt:

  It draws you into silence and in silence, you are removed from seeking forgiveness

  It draws you into great sorrow which robs you of the joy God would call into your life

  It draws you into great secrecy as you hide your sin, so you hide your real self

But, while David was not faithful to God, God was faithful to David.  He sent Nathan with a mirror to show David his sin’s reflection in a way David could see and understand.  And then, David did what God calls all of us, sinners to do: 

·         Accept full responsibility for his sin

·         Acknowledged the sinfulness of his sin

·         Addressed his confession of his sin to God 

I don’t think any of this part of the lesson was new to most of us in the sanctuary.  But, it was presented in such a way as to renew our understanding that God is a forgiving God, a loving God, a compassionate God and a disciplining God.   

“How can an adulterer and a murderer be called a "man after God's own heart?" I believe it is because when he failed, he repented and then turned back to God (see Psalm 51). I love the fact that this man who failed grievously could still be called a man after God's own heart. This is good news for all of us who want to honor and please the Lord and yet fail in our Christian walk. And all of us fail!” 

Had the minister ended his lesson here, we could have walked away with a great lesson on which to base our life.  We would have learned that sin can be forgiven if we but turn from it, repent, and choose God. 

We could have walked out of the sanctuary and into the sunshine of our Sunday and pocketed our notes and been filled for the day with God’s message to us. 

But, this minister did what few have the courage to do… 

Something I have never heard done before… 

I am 50 years old, I have been raised in the church for all of those 50 years.  I can count NO times in all of my church attendance when a minister of God’s word stood from the pulpit and shared his own personal sin by name. 

Never. 

In fact, I have sat in the pew and heard one say that in his life he had very little hardship and issues which drew him to stumble and sin.  I confess, I did not then nor do I today, relate.   

So, it caught me totally off-guard, no it shocked me to the core of my being….deep in my soul where God’s voice calls the loudest, to hear this minister tell another story of a “man after God’s own heart” who struggled with a sin for over 20 years – who had a Nathan (or two or three) who confronted him… 

This minister told of the path…the journey….the sin in his life.  He was not melodramatic.  He was not seeking pity.  He did not make excuse. 

He did what David did…Acknowledged his sin, called it what it was…and sought forgiveness from God Almighty.  He acknowledged how his sin hurt his wife, his children, his family, his friends and his church. 

He acknowledged that there were consequences for his sin. 

He did not cry, he did not try to evoke emotion from his church family.   

He just exposed what had been a secret…one which he could not overcome until he did what David did. 

Told the Truth

And, in so-doing, made God’s word come to life in a way it would not have had he not been willing to share with us.

 I don’t think I was the only one shocked.  There was a reverent hush in that sanctuary….where you could feel the presence of God in a real and sincere way.  

Humility lived in that sanctuary.

Compassion lived in that sanctuary.

Love grew in that sanctuary. 

Guilt was washed away in that sanctuary……guilt which wraps his ugly arms around a soul with a thousand links in its chain of bondage.  Guilt which can seek and destroy was lifted. 

And, joy was restored. 

And, just as David was a man after God’s own heart, so, too, was it evident is this brother…. 

But, he did not stop with his own story….he gave his listeners the tools to remove guilt from their own lives. 

·         Ask God to remove your sin – you are dead until God forgives

·         Ask for your joy to be restored – in joy there is deep satisfaction from God

·         Ask to be renewed in his fellowship

·         Refocus on your future – recommit – reconnect with God 

When a soul bears itself to you in its beauty it is a precious thing.  When a soul bears itself to you in humble contriteness, it is a tender thing.  When a soul bears itself to you in abstract bold expression of its sinfulness, it is a Godly thing. 

Courage was abounding in that sanctuary.  Courage real and true. 

And, while I don’t know what the future will hold for this dear minister.  I do believe this. 

Lives were changed. 

Hope was born.

God was present.

Blessings,

Lesa

PS.  He added a side note and a challenge….”let’s not kid ourselves…we are all sinners….if we read One Thousand Shades of Gray, we are reading pornography; if we place value on things to the extent we remove God from our center, we are sinning….if we talk of another person in gossip, we are sinning…if we turn away our brothers and sisters because they sin, we are sinners.  Let’s tell the truth…starting with ourselves…and that truth-telling draw ourselves closer to God and one another.”

Sundays….

I Love Sundays..

Things are simpler on Sundays. 

Gratefulness comes easier, prayer time comes gentler,

Time in quiet thought comes sweeter.

Early morning time with God on a Sunday makes the heart of a woman long for “home”.

Early morning time with God on a Sunday makes the heart of a woman tender.

Some of my most intimate times of personal reflection have happened on an early Sunday morning…

As the house sits quiet and the breathing of my husband and children lists lightly down the stairs….

And, deep, deep in my heart I am touched in the knowing…

That I am loved      and treasured       and cared for by the gentle hands of a heavenly  Father.

That while life may strive to beat one down, God Almighty will hold one up.

That “Jesus, the tender Shepherd, hears me…”

I draw great strength on Sundays, strength which buoys me up and makes me ABLE.....

Able to live and breathe and survive..

And thrive.

Able to take in and able to let go.

Able to forgive and seek forgiveness.

Able to love and be loved.

And to reflect…

And to see things through HIS eyes and do things in HIS way.Sundays remind me of WHOSE I am….

God’s Girl.

God’s grateful girl.

God’s forgiven and precious and loved girl.

And, in the heart of God’s girl lives hope…and joy…and peace.

And, a tenderness so powerful that you could light the sky with it.

Because in Christ, all things are possible…

And all possible things which are God inspired are good.

And, all good things bring about love and compassion and joy.

And isn’t that what HE is all about?

Love…..Compassion….Joy

So, I love Sundays

And the fresh, clean hung-out-on-the-line cleanliness of God’s grace

Never is He more near my simple heart than on Sunday

“Son-day”

His day.

My gift from HIM is in my worship.

His gift to us is His Life.

Wrapped up in a blanket of white forgiveness and “bowed” with a cross…

And, all He asks in return

Is for us to “love one another as He loves us.”

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” ³⁷ Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’^{[a] 38} This is the first and greatest commandment. ³⁹ And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’^{[b] 40} All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

And, in this loving on others, of one another, we honor Him

Simple

A simple request from a much beloved Father.

Love when it is easy.

Love harder when it is not easy.

Love with our words and our actions and our deeds.

Just.

Love……..

For GOD is of LOVE…..

And, it starts today, this gift of a Sunday….

Blessings,

With Love for Him and you,

Lesa

A Different Perspective….

Our family lives out its days one at a time, doing it our own personal family way…the noises in our home fully vested in portraying the five who live within our walls.  There is shower water and quiet music in the early morning rising.  There is laughter and giggling during lunch-time frolics in the pool.  And, at night, after ballgames and work times and volunteering when we all warm the couch with our presence, it is particularly sweet.

It is YoungMcKenzie family sweet. 

And, I for one, do not take a single moment of that for granted.  Not today.  Not tomorrow.  Not ever….nor ever again.

 And, then you have a sweet, little guest who brings to your home a new perspective, a new vantage point, a new view.  You clean up in preparation and in hope that he will see what you feel about your home, “Love Lives Here”.

My nephew is visiting us.  What a joy and delight it is to have his fresh face and untattered heart amongst our family.  He adds a softness to our teenage tough boys.  He brings out the sweetheart in our daughter and he draws from his Uncle and me a fresh view of “everyday” things in life… 

I confess to telling him right off the bat, “we don’t eat all of our meals at McDonalds, our pottys really are clean but are 30 years old and we do clean up the clutter in our home…sometimes.”  To which he so sweetly replys, “oh, I know Aunt Lesa”…with a grin on his face. 

It’s been six years since I have lived with an eleven year old.  They are truly magical beings…seeing all things positive, making more good choices than not, listening to good easy music on the radio and to enjoying a few shows of SpongeBob Square pants.  The pressures of life not having yet to weigh him down, he beams things all light and bright and shiny…and, it is reflected in our home. 

He brings out the best in all of us….like a drink of fresh iced lemonade on a hot, hot day….(did you know Chick Fil A has great lemonade?)

 

 Time with him has been interspersed interestingly…Uncle Ian got the privilege of landing the eagle at our home and you could tell he enjoyed the trip….both man and boy came to visit me at my office and were in great Uncle-nephew spirits. 

Then, it was Kenton and Cousin time.  Cousin got the full McDonald’s exposure including foodJ and Xbox and movie time.  Chatter in their room as I stood outside listening sounded serious of what were the best techniques to win a game and the difference between teen games and mature games. 

I had to smile as I explained to Cousin that well-behaved boys, age 17, who have girlfriends are allowed a date night until midnight.  Little Cousin and Kenton stayed up waiting….and waiting…and waiting until Johnson got home.  It must have seemed an eternity because feet could not get down the stairs quick enough to greet Johnson as he came in the front door.

 Sweet.

Sweeter still is listening to the youthful questions from young cousin, pitched in young boy voice to older cousin.  Real life issues discussed.  Man/child and boy/child sitting on the brown leather couch, feet propped up after noon movie date.  Relaxed and sharing.

And, friendships forged.  Age- gap meaning little as hearts share a common bond.

 Family.

He has not said so yet, but I think Cousin is enjoying his time with us….it is telling in his giggling, laughing and deep conversations.  It is telling in the interest he takes in what we are doing next, even if that means just “chillaxing”… 

We sit now waiting….we are all going to experience an out-of-door theater.  The first in many years for my children and the first ever (he thinks) for Cousin/Nephew.

It’s memories we are making…. 

Cousin brings with him a different perspective to our lives and a bushel full of the sweetest memories…

Blessings,

Lesa

The Road Less Traveled…

One of my favorite poems is

The Road Less Traveled by Robert Frost.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference 

I thought a great deal of this poem yesterday as Ian and I forged through the woods at Raven Run in Lexington, Kentucky.  A walk….his gift to me.  Our talk....our gift to one another. 

Nature’s beauty….God’s gift to all who would stop and walk and see…. 

And, it is true….our life is testimony to our journey no matter how many days long or short it is.  The path we chose “makes all the difference.”  Some will take the path well-worn and easy to traverse.  The path that most of mankind will take.  And, some will take “the path less traveled by” which is hard to forage and leads to places unknown and unchartered. The path that we are taught to take as people of faith.

My children have been raised on the belief that the path we are to take is “the one less traveled by” because it is the one which God has laid down…..but, is that really the message of this poem?  I don’t know…. 

I always assumed with my “religious” view that the one less taken meant the path to God…that only the few would find the path to heaven….less tattered and worn because man, in our humanity would refuse to take on such a challenge and would travel the simpler, more used path.  The worldly walk. 

As my life and this poem mature, I now believe that life is not just one path…one journey, but a series of walking and choosing….sometimes, the choice is ours to make outright but at times, the path is there without choice…it comes our way through God’s grace, through God’s teaching, through God’s providential mercy. 

Sometimes, all we have it the choice to move forward, to stand still or to turn around and go back… 

And, it is the choosing which “makes all the difference”. 

I felt that yesterday….we choses the “red” path because it was the one which took us to the “prize”….the spectacular view of the Kentucky River from rock outlooks which challenged one’s bravery.  This path was, I believe, one of the longest and most challenging….I, the new hiker, was anxious. 

Just walking from the guest center to get to the path was a “hike”…..but, made simpler because of its concrete side walk… 

I found that curious…a concrete path to get to a nature walk??

And, Ian explained that it was not a natural path and would have many traveling down the exact same steps thereby wearing out the path and aging it beyond use in a short time, thus the concrete. 

From the guest center to the actual path was an “open” natural walkway…one prepared by the state to give direction to the other paths from which a hiker could choose.  I believe there were four in all….all of varying length and difficulty. 

I thought….new hiker that I am….WHEN will we ever get to the real path?? 

It took a while… 

But, arrive we did and Ian explained that the path we were choosing was one of the most difficult, but one of the most lovely….for, it held the view….

Red it was…and, on we walked…. 

Its opening was beautiful…all green and lush.  Stone walls surrounded us and kept us safe from falling off the path.  The walk way was wide and flat and easy to traverse.  “I can do this”, I thought. 

But, very quickly, this changed.  The path began to have its challenges….decisions had to be made.

Decisions which would mean the difference between getting to the view and then the end of the path or turning around and heading back to the safety of the guest center.

 Things got in the way of our hike….

Doubt began to sink in…is traveling around all of the path’s obstacles worth the view we might see and worth the effort of the hike? 

I have not hiked in many years.  I am not in shape to hike.  The heat was already 85 degrees and it was barely past 9 in the morning.  I wore tennis shoes instead of hiking boots.  Did we bring enough water and was now a good time for a water break?  Am I too old for this?  Am I too inexperienced for this? 

Doubt began to rob…as doubt will do if you let it.

I didn’t share these thoughts with Ian…instead, choosing to mull them over privately lest he think I was weak…

As our steps took us farther from the path’s opening and nearer the path’s view, I tried to relax and enjoy the challenge… 

Ian explained that at times, the path would be made more narrow by natural occurrences…and, that I had to choose each time…would this be the “rough spot” which made me turn around and go back or would I brave the challenge and press forward?

And, he was right. 

Interwoven along path “A” were many obstacles – downed tree branches, whole tree trunks, stones, wooden beams, rocks, boulders, branches and boulders, vines, and holes which could trip up one’s feet plunging them down into the river.

Oddly, just as much, were the “man made” bridges and walkways and paths placed here and there and which seemed to arrive at just the appropriate time to build one’s courage to remain on path.

I asked Ian about these human built paths….and, he said, “That is to help keep a hiker encouraged to not give up on their journey and to ensure in the most dangerous of spots that they have some safety to bolster their courage and fortitude.”  But, he assured me….not all paths have these blessings…..some paths are just as they are….broken, dangerous and demand a vision of the hiker to finish.

We hiked on…and, with each step, I grew more encouraged that regardless of what obstacle next came to meet our steps, I could do this...

And, in the doing, met courage… 

The more difficult the obstacle the greater the feeling having gone past it.  The more I had gone past it, the more prepared I was for the next obstacle. 

I could feel Ian’s smile as my determination grew….I was learning. 

And, I was growing in things more than just learning how to walk a path to a view.

My vision and perspective was changing. 

No longer was I holding his hand on the rough spots, choosing instead to “do it myself”….at times, I even took the lead. 

I learned to enjoy the areas where breeze and greenery gave air so that the next trip through the heat and sun could be survived.

I could do this.  I would do this.  And, my mother’s words from a childhood book came to mind, “I think I can, I think I can”….bubbled in my thoughts…

And, then everything changed….

“I think we should cut short our path today, Lesa”, said Ian. 

“What?” I said

“Yes, I think we should take this white path out of here and head on home.  We have traveled over an hour, we have seen the view, we have braved some steep and rocky challenges.  But, as in life, sometimes, you have to pace yourself for the long haul.” 

“I WAS pacing myself!!!.....I was mentally pacing myself for the finish of the long path through the heat in spite of my anxiety”…”I cannot quit….I will not quit.” 

And, then he said what I will never forget…

“Lesa, just because you chose to take another path home, does not mean you are quitting.  It means the path you are on will not allow you to get home.”

 “If we continue  on in stubborn perseverance out of pride rather than consider the wiser option of choosing a new path which leads to home, what have we gained if we cannot finish the journey?”

Nothing.  But, what we may get is death...and, that is not what life is about.  Life is about living... 

In the end, it is about persevering and finishing the journey. 

In my life, as I am sure is true of yours, there are journeys which I did not complete.  Some of them I let go of, but some still haunt me because I did not put myself in the position of finishing the journey.  Of having success.  Of “finishing the race”.

 Ian’s point was well made and received. 

If cutting short our several hour hike to a one and a half hour hike better prepared me for the next hike, and allows me to grow in a healthy way from the experience, then that makes good sense.

Because in the long haul, life is a journey, a series of fallings down and gettins up….of starting and stopping. 

And, this life I have is one journey in which I want to finish….strong….purposeful and for Him…

 Blessings,

 Lesa