God is good.

I have my theories about why it took me the better part of a third of a century to realize, but nonetheless it is true He is.

Not only is he good, He is also relentless.

Many times in my life I have misunderstood His passion for vengeance, His love for rebuke, and His pursuit for torment. God only knows one way – all the way – and for a throttled living being all the way is like going from zero to sixty in an instant.

Thrillingly frighteningly wonderfully horrifyingly painfully fast that leaves you both crying out for it to stop and praying it never will.

Acceleration is about the closest natural experience I can use to describe the nature of God when in contact with our world. I like to tell my friends that if we are praying for God to show up, there will be no doubt if He does. Grabbing hold of a live power line leaves no question in your mind if electricity has power. If you are lucky enough to live through the experience, one thing rings true, experiencing power is its own justification.

I don’t think God has ever “showed up” in my lifetime. If He did I am certain everything we know on this planet would be over. Instead, God uses His Spirit and that is what “shows up” which is really a good thing for us because God’s Spirit is a comforter.

I was thinking the other morning while I was walking in “our field” and contemplating the reality that God used to walk the earth. I was trying to imagine what that must have been like for the earth to have direct contact with God. In my mind I imagined trees and beasts and clouds and every living thing bending to be near Him. Like the grass striving to reach the sun, the whole earth would be alive with waves of movement as he strolled the garden talking with Adam, hanging on every word, in complete awe as each step fell on the skin of the earth sending shudders of power felt around the world.

And then it was over.

In a moment He was gone, and ever since the earth has been locked in groans of withdrawal pain and longing for His return.

Yea, my mornings are getting kind of interesting.

But here is where it gets really interesting for me. As I was trying to pull my brain around the concept of a force strong enough to hold gravity and light in a constant state for eternity and that same force being intimate enough to walk with man, God told me that He does walk the earth again.

He walks through us.

I am not sure what that means in the practical day to day, but I have been challenged to consider the ramifications.

What if growing in the presence of God will mean that His creation will start to respond to us? Can we release that back to the earth? I think we can and the thought of that is exhilarating.

Scripture tells us that all creation groans waiting for our redemption. I have heard it said that all creation groans for the return of the peace makers of God.

Looking at the world in the context of a creation divorced of its creator makes complete sense to the state we find nature in. Nature is locked in a profound battle of being cursed because of man and inexplicably drawn to man. It is both repulsed and attracted at the same time in a unendingly divine tension until our salvation when nature once again can feel the footsteps of God and see His face.

It is that tension that makes us have dominion over all created things. It is that tension that makes all created things want to destroy us.

I think Francis of Assisi understood this.

(reference: Wikipedia) Many of the stories that surround the life of St Francis deal with his love for animals.^[21] Perhaps the most famous incident that illustrates the Saint’s humility towards nature is recounted in the ‘Fioretti’ (The “Little Flowers”), a collection of legends and folk-lore that sprang up after the Saint’s death. It is said that one day while Francis was traveling with some companions they happened upon a place in the road where birds filled the trees on either side. Francis told his companions to “wait for me while I go to preach to my sisters the birds”.^[21] The birds surrounded him, drawn by the power of his voice, and not one of them flew away. Francis spoke to them:

My sister birds, you owe much to God, and you must always and in everyplace give praise to Him; for He has given you freedom to wing through the sky and He has clothed you…you neither sow nor reap, and God feeds you and gives you rivers and fountains for your thirst, and mountains and valleys for shelter, and tall trees for your nests. And although you neither know how to spin or weave, God dresses you and your children, for the Creator loves you greatly and He blesses you abundantly. Therefore… always seek to praise God.

Main article: Wolf of Gubbio

Another legend from the Fioretti tells that in the city of Gubbio, where Francis lived for some time, was a wolf “terrifying and ferocious, who devoured men as well as animals”. Francis had compassion upon the townsfolk, and went up into the hills to find the wolf. Soon, fear of the animal had caused all his companions to flee, though the saint pressed on. When he found the wolf, he made the sign of the cross and commanded the wolf to come to him and hurt no one. Miraculously the wolf closed his jaws and lay down at the feet of St. Francis. “Brother Wolf, you do much harm in these parts and you have done great evil…” said Francis. “All these people accuse you and curse you…But brother wolf, I would like to make peace between you and the people.” Then Francis led the wolf into the town, and surrounded by startled citizens made a pact between them and the wolf. Because the wolf had “done evil out of hunger”, the townsfolk were to feed the wolf regularly, and in return, the wolf would no longer prey upon them or their flocks. In this manner Gubbio was freed from the menace of the predator. Francis, ever the lover of animals, even made a pact on behalf of the town dogs, that they would not bother the wolf again.

These legends exemplify the Franciscan mode of charity and poverty as well as the saint’s love of the natural world.^[22] Part of his appreciation of the environment is expressed in his Canticle of the Sun, a poem written in Umbrian Italian in perhaps 1224 which expresses a love and appreciation of Brother Sun, Sister Moon, Mother Earth, Brother Fire, etc. and all of God’s creations personified in their fundamental forms. In “Canticle of the Creatures,” he wrote: “All praise to you, Oh Lord, for all these brother and sister creatures.”^[3]

Francis’s attitude towards the natural world, while poetically expressed, was conventionally Christian.^[4] He believed that the world was created good and beautiful by God but suffers a need for redemption because of the primordial sin of man. He preached to man and beast the universal ability and duty of all creatures to praise God (a common theme in the Psalms) and the duty of men to protect and enjoy nature as both the stewards of God’s creation and as creatures ourselves.^[21]

Legend has it that St. Francis on his deathbed thanked his donkey for carrying and helping him throughout his life, and his donkey wept.

C.S. Lewis had a similar reverence for nature and the inherent attributes of God in it as well as our place in nature.

(reference: religion-online.org) According to Lewis, we learn more about God from Natural Law than from the universe in general, just as we discover more about people by listening to their conversations than by looking at the houses they build. Natural Law shows that the Being behind the universe is intensely interested in fair play, unselfishness, courage, good faith, honesty and truthfulness. However, Natural Law gives no grounds for assuming that God is soft or indulgent. Natural law obliges us to do the straight thing regardless of the pain, danger or difficulty involved. Natural Law is hard – “as hard as nails” (Mere Christianity, (p. 23).

I was talking with a friend Saturday during our Encounter weekend about his job. I will write more about the events of this past weekend soon, but as Rocky was sharing about the beauty of a wood door he was refinishing, I had a revelation.

We got to talking about wood, specifically burled walnut, and I turned to Rocky and said: “Rocky, all that beauty is on the inside of the tree!” We sat there for a moment trying to grasp that and a question rose up.

Why? Why was all that beauty hidden on the inside of the tree?

The earth was created for us, for man, it is for us to enjoy. The only conclusion we could come up with is that we are supposed to be able to see it.

The natural thought was sure we see it, we cut it down and rip it open and that is how we see it.

The thing is, I don’t think the original plan was to kill the tree in order to see the beauty growing inside it.

I wasn’t going to write about that today, but I think it will just have to do. :)

I have started reading a book by David C. Downing on C.S. Lewis. It is called Into The Region Of Awe: Mysticism In C. S. Lewis. I had no intention of reading about C.S. Lewis. I was lead to it while searching the library for a book on the Moravians.

I may be going to Germany this summer, and intend to visit Herrnhut, the birthplace of the 1727 revival that birthed the Moravian missionary movement which literally impacted the planet.

I first heard about the Moravians through MorningStar Ministries. They own land in Moravian Falls, NC which was settled by Moravian missionaries in 1753. How MorningStar came to own the land is an interesting story in and of itself.

Something is happening to me.

Rick Joyner, 7/31/2006

The great souls in history took ground that future generations could walk over much easier, faster, and safer. A good example is Count Zinzendorf and the Moravians, who took a generation to establish the principles of modern missions. They not only cut a path which others could follow, but at times, they wandered up box canyons and had to turn around, seemingly losing a lot of time and resources with their mistakes. However, even those diversions saved future generations from having to make the same ones. They prepared a highway and a good map to go with it.

We only stand where we are today because others fought through the forests and underbrush, cut down mountains and hills, and built up the low places—spiritual swamps that were full of dangers and disease. They left us a wonderful highway so we could easily make it this far with relatively little effort. Let us resolve to carry this highway as far as we can in our own generation, making it much easier for others to make it as far as we have, and then go farther.

There will be a generation who actually finishes the job. It could even be ours. We may go around the next turn, cut through the next acre of underbrush, and come face to face with His glory. Even if we are not the one who finishes the job, let us do our part as well as it can be done. The way we prepare the way for the Lord and His kingdom to come to the earth, so that His will be done here just as it is in heaven, is to build a highway.

I was talking with my son Sunday about this very concept, running on the fruits of others labor and used a road as an example. Someone had to make a great sacrifice to build it and now we have the benefit of using it. The problem we seem to run into is that we focus on the road and become content with the lovely road never to break ground on new roads. The road is there so that we can go further with less effort.

But I digress. Where was I, oh yes, the book.

So I found this book about mysticism and C.S. Lewis and at first I thought it to be an odd statement. I have not read much of Lewis, but I have found him to be a logical man. I did read the Screwtape Letters years ago and thought it was brilliant but never made the jump to mystic. To be fair, I have wasted much of my life thinking reading was a waste of time, but I intend to do more reading of Lewis very soon.

What surprised me is that the more I thought about his writing the more obvious it was that he had encounters with God. I think the guy moved in the supernatural, really moved in it. His grasp of the kingdom of God in The Chronicles of Narnia can only be explained by experiencing kingdom. We give too much credit to creativity. The best creativity is based on some sort of experience, otherwise it is just fiction.

This excerpt from Downings book was telling. “When writing about Narnia to a class of fifth graders who asked if it were possible to visit Aslan’s country, Lewis replied that the only way he knew of was through death but then added this curious qualifier: ‘Perhaps some very good people get just a tiny glimpse before then.’”

Amen.

On my walk this morning as I was mulling over the concept that science is the study of nature and since nature is a pointer to God, I realized that science will never be able to prove God. It is not an original thought, but the more I meditated on it, a simple phrase rose up in me.

“God can not be defined by what He has designed.”

God is supernatural, which literally means “above nature”. To look for Him within the confines of His creation will never do. For us as the created to try and find the creator within the confines of His creation is like trying to describe color.

Try and describe the color Red. Go ahead, try it! You can’t without a reference to something that is red! Color simply is. It is what it is and even though you can measure it, quantify it, split it, mix it, without experiencing it the concept of color is meaningless. We can do the same thing with the aroma of coffee. We can’t adequately describe aroma without a reference to something that also has aroma. Again, if you have never smelled anything how on earth can you relate it?

Now, lets try and define God. We can describe attributes of Him, but define Him from nature? Not gonna happen.

The fact that we can comprehend the concept of God is proof enough He exists. We have experienced Him already, that is the reason for our ability to even comprehend the concept, but He can never be defined by the created. Stop looking for Him in the natural, He IS the supernatural.

Einstein wrote that he was awestruck by our ability to comprehend the universe, at least in part, and in later life remarked several times that the most incomprehensible thing about the universe is that it is comprehensible.

Which begs the question; why does man have the ability to grasp the incomprehensible?

So that we can be one with the creator.

Two years ago today we lost our third pregnancy.

The events that followed were some of the most challenging of my life. Here is the email from the day after:

Family,

I have some bad news. Last night Julianne went into the hospital with severe abdominal pain and had an emergency laparoscopy surgery to remove an ectopic pregnancy.

Julianne is doing fine and resting as of 3AM and will make a full recovery. She should be released tomorrow at noon.

Our 6 week old baby never had a chance for survival, as it was implanted outside the uterus. There was hemorrhaging at the implant site at the top of her uterus and Julianne was losing blood into her abdomen, causing the pain. The doctor was able to repair the damage and was amazed as he had never seen that before, and never heard of it happening that way. The nurses were even commenting on how much “swimming” had to be done for this to happen, and jokingly blamed me. The good news is that my wife will be fine fine and that we did not have a tubal pregnancy.

We and the kids are doing well all things considered, and although we mourn the loss of the promise of new life, we are thankful that God had everything worked out so that we can try again.

“Try again” – how funny.

Those were desperate words from a disconnected man as the impact of the day had not settled into me yet.

A few months later my life started crashing down and I took a sabbatical to try and find myself again. The truth, I was devestated at the loss of our pregnancy and my facade had started to crack. The circumstances of it all just made no sense to me. I was angry at myself, I was angry at God for giving me hope after ten years of waiting only to have it ripped away like that. How could He! I had no answers, only questions.

For the first time in my life I felt what it was like to be helpless, completely helpless, without an answer. Walking the shores of the James River that summer a song rose up within me.

Anna’s Song: 2006

Verse 1:
Don’t cry for me daddy, cuz I’m okay.
Don’t waste another minute over yesterday
And I’m up here in heaven, with something to say

Chorus:
Don’t give up your hope
Don’t you run away
Just hold on to Jesus
So you can hold me
Hold me, someday.

Verse 2:
I know the plans you were making, died with me that day
I couldn’t believe your faith and hope, just up and went away
I know the man you used to be, and I need him more today

Verse 3:
There is so much more here, than you realize
And even though you miss me, time will dry your eyes
Every time you think of me, remember what I say

“Try again” had given way to hopelessness and it was the start of the darkest summer of my life. The song is sobering to me today – it shows me how close to giving up on God I really was.

So here I am on February fourteenth all over again, reflecting on the last two years.

I sit here today with a restored hope in my God, a restored hope in myself, and a new baby growing in the right place. This February fourteenth, I find myself seeing the substance of things hoped for materializing right before my eyes with the assuring that God is good.

I still think about our little girl He showed Julie in a dream. I would have liked to see that, laughing and playing in the mid-day sun with her mother, but I have a good imagination. I still wonder what she would be like when I look into the eyes of her sister. I get emotional sometimes when I see little girls her age, but not as much as I used to. I guess I still miss the promise of her. I have been wounded deeply and I know the scar will never go away.

I am content to have the scar.

Because of it I cry more, I love deeper, I slow down, I treat people better, and I trust.

Because of it I have become broken.

Being broken is the best thing that could have ever happened to me.