What a Year its been…

“⁸ For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. ⁹ Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. ¹⁰ He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. ¹¹ You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many.”

- 2 Corinthians 1:8-11 (ESV)

What a year it has been.  Quite probably the most difficult year in my life… and that’s saying a lot.

Ten years ago, my oldest son (then an almost fourth grader) was very sick with an infection in his bone marrow.  He spent weeks of his summer vacation with a catheter in his chest, through which we gave him IV antibiotics three or four times a day around the clock.  The week that he was given “a clean bill of health” and had the catheter removed, my Dad had two strokes that severely impacted his left side and his ability to speak.  Months later, just after Dad was able to leave the rehab hospital, my son’s “clean bill of health” came due… the infection was back.  He had to return to the hospital for a bone biopsy and spent the next several months on huge dosages of antibiotics.

Until 2009, 1999 had been my toughest year.

2009 began with my lay off from the church staff where I had served for six years as the Director of Pastoral Care/Pastor of Member Care and Counseling.  It has been quite a year!  I have wrestled with how to express all that this year has brought to me and my family.  I’ve wrestled with how to say – as our Senior Pastor, Roger, is fond of saying - “the last 10%”… the had, uncomfortable truths we would sometimes rather skip over with an “I’m fine” sort of cop-out. 

The Apostle Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 1 have helped me find a way to do that.  He begins in verse 8 by saying that he wanted the Corinthians to know (“we do not  want you to be ignorant…”, he says) what he had experienced.  Somehow, it would be helpful for them to know what the Apostle and his companions had gone  through.

Paul speaks of the “affliction” he and his co-workers had experienced and how the burden of it was more than he could bear.  It felt like a death sentence to him.  Now, that, I can relate to.

In the weeks that followed the announcement of the layoffs (there were five of us in all who were laid off due to some pretty big budget cuts) I struggled with questions of life… purpose, meaning, value.  I wondered if I had wasted the past twenty-five years in ministry.  The words spoken as  the layoffs were announced to the congregation were that the positions being cut were “not essential to our mission and vision” as a congregation.  Those words haunted and wounded me for months.  How could Pastoral Care not be essential to the ministry of a church?   And,Pastoral Care was not just “my job” – it is how God has wired me.   “Pastor” is not just a job description… it is who I am.  So, if Pastoral Care is not essential, what does that say about me?

It felt like a death sentence.

And then, many of those who – in my mind and heart – should have been caring for me and my family as we continued to worship and serve in the congregation were nowhere to be found.  For months.  It hurt.  It often felt as if we were dead and folks just didn’t know how to talk with or reach out to us… we made them uncomfortable.

In the midst of all this, though, God kept showing up.  Sometimes through his people.  Sometimes out of the blue.

It’s in those times that I see the rest of 2 Corinthians 1:9 alive in my life and my family’s life this year…

“…we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.”

(emphasis mine)

We have quite clearly seen God’s hand in this year.  It has not always been easy to see, though.   There have been times – I confess – that I quit looking for God and simply focused on my pain and struggle (see my last blog for more on that).  Thankfully, those times of self-pitying didn’t last and the laments I spoke led to more trust in God.  There have been times and events during this year that are clearly the hand of God moving on our behalf -

* our oldest son (now in college) received extra scholarships that covered his school year at a rather spendy private college

* our younger son has received scholarships to cover his tennis lessons all year (he finished his High School League season undefeated)

* because I was out of work this year, I was able to invest several weeks helping an uncle and cousin deal with a profound family tragedy in another state

* I was able to spend some time with my Mom after she had some surgery

* One church member has faithfully blessed us each month with a financial gift, while others have blessed us with grocery, restaurant, and coffee gift cards

* I have had the opportunity to help people with memorial services at the loss of their loved ones and weddings at the joining of two lives as one

Truly, an amazing year with an amazing God!

In verse 10, the Apostle goes on to say…

“He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.”

I think he knew about this raising-the-dead-and-delivering-them quality of God’s character well before his difficult experiences in Asia.  I’ve certainly known about it for many years before this one.  I’ve preached multiple sermons on it over the years, for goodness sake!  Yet, like the Apostle, I have learned it as far more than a theological assertion or a biblical precept.  Through the affliction of this year, God’s grace and care – and resurrection power – is as real to me as anything in life and I trust it more than most things in life.

As this year comes to a close, the breath of new life fills my lungs.  I have completed certification as a Professional Life Coach and am ready to extend that part of my twenty-five plus years of ministry beyond any one congregation to help people discover how to live more fully as the person God has created and called them to be.  The Life Coaching seems a natural addition to eighteensix ministries along with this blog, some speaking opportunities and additional writing.  Along with that, just in the past month, I have been offered – and accepted – a half-time position back at the church… as the Director of Pastoral Care/Pastor of Member Care. 

In the past couple weeks, I have already begun to witness in my life what Paul glimpsed at in his…

“Many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many.”

For those of you who have prayed for my family and me, thank you.  I hope all of you reading this will give God thanks on our behalf for all the blessings God has poured out on us.  And, in case you are wondering – I know from experience –  there is no better place to be than…

On the Potter’s Wheel.

Under the Broom Tree

Depression sucks.

Quite literally, it sucks the energy, the joy, the hope, the motivation right out of you. Depression sucks the perspective and the drive out of you. At times, it can even suck the “you” out of you.

I know. Maybe you do too.

Long ago, in the days of the Kings of Israel, there was a man who knew the impact of depression – how life draining it is. He didn’t simply know about it academically or intellectually or clinically. He knew depression experientially.

His name was Elijah.

Yes – that Elijah. The prophet. The guy the New Testament book of James lifts up as an example of a “righteous man” whose prayers were “powerful and effective”. The man of God who prayed for a drought and three-and-a-half years later prayed for an end to the drought… and had both prayers answered. Elijah – who took on the false “prophets of Baal” atop Mount Carmel and won.

That Elijah. He knew the impact and the pain of depression.

Not sure if you believe that? Read his story in 1 Kings 17-19. Following several decisive victories and amazing demonstrations of faith and God’s work in and through him, Elijah crashes into depression. Following his victory on Mount Carmel, Elijah gets a message from the Queen – Jezebel. She’s angry and threatens to kill him. Let’s pick up on Elijah’s story here…

“Then he was afraid, and he arose and ran for his life and came to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah, and left his servant there. But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.”  And he lay down and slept under a broom tree.” 

(1 Kings 19:3-5a)

Elijah – this mighty man of God – was done. Depression had crashed down on him like a massive sneaker wave. He never saw it coming. It called everything into question for him. It sucked the hope, the joy, the motivation, the energy right out of him. He sat down under the broom tree… and he was done.

Over the past several months, I’ve followed Elijah out to this lonely place and sat down under my own broom tree. I’ve felt my joy, my hope, my energy and motivation drain away. I’ve known what the Sons of Korah express in Psalm 42:3 – “My tears have been my food day and night…”

Elijah sat down under the broom tree… worn out, drained, disheartened… and couldn’t see a way ahead any longer. He was so worn down that he fell asleep right there on the hard ground under the broom tree. He was done.

Or so he thought.

His sleep was interrupted by an angel. ..

“And behold, an angel touched him and said to him, “Arise and eat.” And he looked, and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. And he ate and drank and lay down again. And the angel of the Lord came again a second time and touched him and said, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” And he arose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God.” 

(1 Kings 19:5b-8)

Under the broom tree – despairing, worn, drained, confused and hurting – Elijah was met by a messenger from God.

“Get up and eat. Have something to drink.”

More rest.  Again, the angel comes, “Get up and eat. Have something to drink. Take care of yourself. You need your strength.”

And then the words Elijah probably didn’t expect to hear…

“God’s not through with you yet.”

Under the broom tree – I’m listening. I’m looking around. I’m wondering…

“Is that your voice, God?”

God was not done with Elijah. He travelled for more than a month through the desert, down to Mount Horeb – also known as Mount Sinai. Yes, that Mount Sinai. It was there, standing in a cave, that Elijah had the most vivid experience of God in his life. In the midst of that time, God asked this man twice, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” Both times, Elijah let loose with his complaint, his pain, his despair.

And God listened.

And God corrected Elijah’s misconceptions.

And God gave Elijah his next set of assignments. Not as flashy and exciting as influencing the weather or defeating amazing odds in a test of faith. But, arguably, a more influential ministry than everything else he had done previously. (Read 1 Kings 19:9-18)

Under the broom tree, Elijah was done. God wasn’t.

Under the broom tree, I have felt done. God – I trust, believe and, yes, hope – isn’t.

I’ve been seeing glimpses of what may be ahead. Still some confusion and fear in me, I’ll admit. Not sure if I have the energy to make the journey ahead.  But… I want to get up, leave the broom tree behind, and live in the wonder of God’s presence and plan.

There’s a place near to the broom tree… it can sometimes feel the same… but it has more purpose.  It’s,

                              on the Potter’s Wheel.

Manna on the Edge

For the past several months I have found myself at the Edge (that's part of why its been so long since my last post).

I've been here - at the Edge - before. Not this particular Edge, but an Edge.

At the end of last year, I and four of my colleagues on staff at the church we served became casualties of some major budget cuts.

Lay offs… cutbacks… downsizing… reduction in workforce.

Whatever you call it… it’s an edge.

I can’t speak for any of my four co-workers – and wouldn’t want to – about their experiences these past several months. I can only speak of mine.

My Edge has been an Edge of the Unknown. Lots of questions… very few answers. There have definitely been times when the looming drop-off of the Edge has been scary – almost to the point of overwhelming. Almost.

I don’t know what people who have been laid off from other types of jobs or careers have gone through, what questions they’ve asked and wrestled with. I don’t know if they were the more pragmatic, “What job can I get next/What do I do now?” or the deeper, more introspective, “Who am I now?” type of questions. For me, they have been the latter type for the most part.

I’ve been in local church-congregational-pastoral ministry for almost twenty-five years. I’ve joked with another minister friend of mine that I’ve not had a real job in nearly a quarter century! I can’t speak with the perspective of those in other professions but, for me, ministry hasn’t been my work – oh, to be sure, I have worked and worked hard at ministry over countless hours – it has been my identity… it’s been who I am.

"I don’t do ministry… I am a minister."

At least, that’s how I’ve self-identified for years. And, now, I find myself at this Edge.

Who am I? What is my purpose? God, what do you want of me?

Those are the questions that echo off this Edge.

Thankfully – even though there continue to be some very lonely times, times of nearly overwhelming sadness, and a ton of unanswered questions – there continues to be clear evidence of God caring and providing for me and my family. There have been the obvious moments of provision when an unexpected card arrives in the mail with an equally unexpected check inside along with a note of encouragement. There have been some times for formal ministry – when I have preached at a friend’s church or done funerals for members of our congregation. I’ve also been given the gift of being able to write the curriculum for our congregation’s summer children’s camp.

Some of the provisions have been clearly identifiable like that. I am certain, though, that there have been and will continue to be times of God’s provision that I just don't recognize. I’m in good company there.

The people of Israel had followed Moses’ lead out of their bondage of slavery in Egypt. I imagine that many (most?) of them thought they were past the Edge now. But they, really, were just getting there. Their Edge hadn’t been slavery. It was the Edge of faith and faithfulness. Would they believe and trust in God? Would they follow… not just out of Egypt, but in all parts of life?

In the midst of their prolonged time on the Edge – forty years of wandering, remember – God provided for them. On their way out of Egypt, God arranged for the Egyptians to provide materially for the Israelites. God provided them with clear instructions for how to live in the Ten Commandments and the other guidelines he gave them through Moses.

But those wandering, newly freed people didn’t recognize all of God’s provisions. One of my favorite parts of their story (which you can read in the Bible’s books of Exodus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy) is about one such provision they didn’t recognize but came to depend on.

The people were concerned that their food supplies were getting low and they were getting hungry. They cried out to God to feed them. (Actually, the Bible says “they grumbled”.) So God sent a thick morning dew. When it had evaporated, in its place – all over the ground – the people saw “a fine flake-like thing.” They asked, “What is it?” because they didn’t know what it was and, certainly, didn’t recognize it as God’s answer to their grumbling prayers. Moses told them, “This is the bread God is providing for you.” Exodus 16:31 says, “Now the House of Israel called its name manna.”

Manna. We know what that is. We’ve heard of it before. We’ve even seen it in movies of this story. Manna – the bread God gave his people throughout all their years of wandering. But, they didn’t know what it was when they first saw it. They didn’t recognize God’s provision. Their lack of recognition is memorialized forever in what they called it – manna. The word in Hebrew means “What is it?”

Throughout their extended stay on the Edge, God provided for his people. Every morning the “what is it?” – the manna – would fall and their needs would be met.

As I stand at this Edge, I look around for God’s provision. Some is obvious. Some… not so much. Still, I take the manna – my own “what is it?” – and trust God’s love and grace and provision. I take encouragement from and trust in the words of Romans 5 –

"We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces

endurance, and endurance produces character, and character

produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s

love has been poured into our hearts through the

Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

– Romans 5:3-5 (ESV)

You may not be at an Edge… or, you may be. Wherever you find yourself, look around. Do you see God’s provision? Are you experiencing it? Not just the obvious – which is certainly worthy of celebration – but the manna, the “what is it?” that God is pouring into your midst?

Eat up! The manna is all around...

on the Potter’s Wheel.

A Closer Look at Samuel's Prayer

After years spent focused on the things of God - on the daily and inner workings of the Tabernacle at Shiloh, the regular offerings, sacrifices, and rituals that gave shape to the worship of God's people, the reading and hearing of the words of the Law of Moses - Samuel found himself at the Edge. In spite of all his work, all his activity at Shiloh, the Bible reveals to us that "Samuel did not yet know the LORD, for the word of the LORD had not yet come to him."

The Edge found Samuel late one night in the Tabernacle. The duties of the day were long ended. Eli the High Priest was already down for the night and Samuel was lying in the Tabernacle itself. As he laid there, Samuel heard someone call his name, "Samuel, Samuel." It begins as somewhat of a comical scene... he gets us and goes to where Eli is resting. "Here I am. You called me." The old man looked up at him and said, "I didn't call you. Go back and lie down!" A few minutes later, the scene repeats itself... with the same results. "I didn't call you. Go and lie down." (It's here in 1 Samuel 3:7 that Scripture tells us Samuel didn't know God yet - maybe that's why he didn't recognize the voice who called him.)

The entire scene repeats itself one more time and, finally, a lightbulb goes off for Eli (so to speak). It dawns on the priest that it is God calling, so he tells his young apprentice, "Go back. When the Voice calls you again say, 'Speak, LORD, your servant is listening."

Samuel obeys - all hint of sleep a retreating memory - and lays back down. Soon, he hears it again, "Samuel, Samuel."

"Speak, your servant is listening."

It's such a simple prayer. Yet, it is deeply profound in it's importance and implication. Think about what Samuel prays at that Edge -

Speak - Although Samuel hadn't experienced it for himself, he knew that God is not silent, but communicates with his people. Samuel knew about God speaking with those who had gone before - Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Miriam, Joshua, Deborah, Gideon and so many others. He had probably heard Eli relate stories of those earlier times when God had even spoken to Eli himself. Literally from the beginning of time, God has communicated with his creation. Genesis says God spoke creation - from galaxies to mountains to seas to plants, animals and human beings - into being. Speaking, communication is an essential part of how God relates to creation, including us.

Even though Samuel had not experienced it for himself, yet, he expected it. It wasn't as odd a thought for him as it is for us and our contemporaries. God speaks to his people. God speaks to us.

Part of the reason for this confident expectation of Samuel's came through the truth of the one word he leaves out of his prayer that Eli suggested. The word - a name, actually - was "Yahweh". It is usually translated as "LORD" in English. Even though, in English, we use the "LORD" as a synonym for "God", it was so much more than that for Samuel and his contemporaries. It was the name of God. The name revealed to Moses when, at the burning bush, he asked "If they ask who sent me, who do I say sent me? What's your name?" The name, Yahweh, means "I am", and it tells of the essence and character of God. "I am" is personal to his people. "I am" is dynamic, active, relational and expectant with his people.

Because Samuel knew this to be true, he could expectantly pray, "Speak..."

Your Servant - Samuel had grown up with a clear understanding of who he was and how he related to God, to the One who was calling him that night. This was inspite of the example he saw around him in Eli's family. The High Priest's two sons - Hophni and Phinehas - served as priests alongside their father, but they did not have a heart for God so much as for their own passions and pleasures. The contrast between Samuel and these two was stark. It was stunning. In 1 Samuel 2, Hophni and Phinehas are described as "worthless men" who "treated the Lord's offering with contempt" and would even take sexual advantage of women at the Tabernacle itself. In the midst of the description of the evils of these two men, we read of Samuel - "Now the young man Samuel continued to grow both in stature and favor with the LORD and also with men." What a contrast.

As Samuel spoke the words of this prayer from the Edge, he saw his place in relation to God and in contrast to Eli's sons. He knew he was God's servant.

Now, it is easy for our contemporary ears to hear the word "servant" in a negative way. We too often hear it as "less than", "disposable", or a "necessary evil". Not so here in 1 Samuel (or throughout the Bible for that matter). To be a servant certainly meant that you were subordinate to another - to a master - but it did not mean you were less than other people around you. Two quick examples of this...

First, from Samuel's own story.... Ultimately, who was "less" in this passage of Israel's history - Samuel, the servant of God, or the self-indulgent, arrogant priests Hophni and Phinehas? Clearly, Samuel's character, faith, and faithfulness put him on a much higher plane than the sons of Eli.

The second example of how one can be a servant and not be less than anyone else is Jesus himself. Isaiah 53 describes him as a "suffering servant" who's servanthood would do more for humanity's relationship with God than all the combined efforts of every human being throughout history. In Philippians 2 (in the New Testament), the writer - a guy named Paul - describes Jesus as the obedient servant who is exalted above everyone else in all of creation.

At the Edge of faith, Samuel recognized and acknowledged who he was in relation to God. As he prayed, he was about to experience that relationship moving to a new, deeper, more profound level.

"Speak, your servant..."

Is Listening - In this account of Samuel and his prayer from the Edge, we are reminded of one of the most amazing truths found in the Bible - from the opening pages to the final verses.

Yahweh, the LORD, the God of the Bible calls and invites us into a two-way relationship with himself. There is communication, conversation, dialogue, and friendship within a true relationship with God.

It was one thing for Samuel to acknowlege that God seeks to communicate with people when he prayed, "Speak...". It's quite another - and completes the communication relationship - to pray, "I'm listening." Why? Glad you asked....

Have you ever had one of those conversations during which one person says with frustration, hurt and maybe a bit of anger, "You're not listening to me!"? Do they mean our ears aren't picking up the sounds they are making? Do they mean we have our sensory attention focused somewhere other than them? (Sometime, perhaps.) Or, do they mean we are not "hearing" the meaning, the emotions, the hope or fear, the longing behind the words falling from their lips?

One of the most valuable elements in any healthy relationship is the ability to hear and be heard beyond the surface level of our words. We want those we love adn care about to hear our hearts. It's clear from the Bible that God wants that in our relationship with him as well.

"Speak, your servant is listening." The ESV translates is as "Speak, your servant hears."

--------------------------------

In the middle of the night, the young man, Samuel, is awakened and finds he is standing at the Edge. He discovers that the God he has heard and known about wants to be known by him and wants a relationship with him that will ripple out far from his own life. This night, in this meeting of Samuel and the God he has served without knowing personally, God calls the young man to be a prophet - the spokesman of God to his people and the people around them. Everything in his life had led up to this encounter at the Edge. Samuel's prayer - and God's answer to it - changed the course not only of Samuel's life, but that of God's people, Israel, as well.

Have you been to this Edge - the Edge of faith, the Edge of trust, the Edge of a relationship with God? If not, I encourage you to get there. If you are there now... take a deep breath. Relax. When you hear God call out to your spirit, your heart, your life follow Samuel's lead...

"Speak, LORD, your servant is listening."

Prayers from the Edge - Samuel

I had the good fortune to grow up in a wonderfully healthy and balanced home. Okay, so that mystical myth - "fortune" - had nothing to do with it. I lived in that kind of home because of two faithful and loving parents and four siblings I looked up to and was proud to claim as mine. (I still am, too!) A regular part of my life growing up was church. I'm not sure if this was my brother and sisters' experience or not, but I remember being at church every Sunday - unless I was sick or we were out of town. Sunday School, worship services, cookies and punch in the Fellowship Hall… all memories I hold of those years. All part of the "it's what we do" when I was growing up.
As I got older, my church friends and I were able - and somewhat expected - to do more in the life of the congregation. I served as an acolyte and lit the altar candles as part of the ritual of the worship service - affirming the reminder of the light of God's presence joining us as we worship and leaving with us as we left an hour later to go back into our "normal" life. Other than the goofy white robes we had to wear, it was a pretty cool job… I mean, we got to carry a flame in Church!

Later, as I got into High School, I moved up in my responsibilities and became a Junior Deacon. I served communion, I collected the offering, I even went to our denomination's national conference.

I remember hearing someone at a conference a year or two ago describe his childhood religious life much like mine. He said, "Yep, I'm a BUICK - Brought Up In Christian Knowledge." That was me! I knew all about God. I knew all about the Church. Not only did my family drive a Buick… I was one!

In the first part of the Bible - the section commonly called the Old Testament - there is a story of a young man named Samuel. His early story has some similarities to mine. It has some similarities to yours too, although you may not know it yet.

Samuel grew up in his day's version of Church - literally. He had been dedicated to God as an infant and taken to the tabernacle at Shiloh. Shiloh was the center of Jewish worship in the years before Jerusalem became Israel's capital city and the place where they kept the Ark of the Covenant - the box that contained the Ten Commandments and other important artifacts from the time of the Exodus. Shiloh is where the people would go to offer sacrifices to God. It is where the High Priest, Eli, lived and did his ministry. As Samuel grew up there at Shiloh, he served Eli, working beside him in the service of God.

That part of Samuel's story reminds me of my own: active and serving in the worshiping community. (I didn't actually live at the church, although sometimes it certainly felt like it.) Moving from one level of expectation and responsibility to another. Hearing the stories of God and his people week after week.

But, Samuel was standing at the Edge and didn't know it. He had been living there for quite a while and didn't know it. The interesting thing to me is, it's the very same Edge I found myself facing when I got to college.

Samuel had spent so much time - his whole life - around the things of God. He had been with the people of God, in the house of God, hearing the stories and truths of God, doing all the "right" and "religious" things. Yet, in 1 Samuel 3:7 we read this shocking revelations…

"Now, Samuel did not yet know the Lord..."

Wait a minute… how can that be? Look at what is said about Samuel before this disturbing verse:

"But Samuel was ministering before the Lord under Eli the priest." (1 Samuel 2:11)

"But Samuel was ministering before the Lord - a boy wearing a linen ephod." (1 Samuel 2:18)

"And the boy Samuel continued to grow in stature and in favor with the Lord and with people." (1 Samuel 2:26)

"The boy Samuel ministered before the Lord under Eli." (1 Samuel 3:1)

Yet, in spite of all of this, Samuel - we are told - did not know the Lord. Now that is an Edge!

Can you imagine spending all your time, pouring all your life into some work - some good work - only to discover that you were missing the most important, most foundational part of that work and of life itself? Can you imagine it?

Some of us don't need to imagine it. We've seen close friends and family members peering over that Edge, having their breath taken away by the dramatically scary, amazing vista that opened up before them. For others of us, this is the Edge we are standing at even as we read these words. Or, perhaps, it is the Edge God is pulling us toward.

I stood on this Edge when I was in college. I had an amazing opportunity that not too many people have. I attended a small, historic Christian college in Oregon. What made it so amazing was that it was there that I met, lived in the dorm with, and went to classes with other young adults - people my age - who spoke about God and Jesus as something, as someone far beyond the Sunday School lessons of my youth. They spoke of Jesus like someone they knew… and not just knew about. I found myself standing on this most important, most basic Edge that anyone can come to. Looking back, I think I can just make out Samuel's footprints in the dirt next to mine.

It was the Edge of owned faith.

Behind Samuel stood all that he had heard and done and experienced during all those years "ministering before the Lord". In front of him opened up the vastness of the Eternal. Before him was God, calling his name, inviting him to a life beyond anything he had every imagined. In the quiet hours of the night, Samuel woke up (literally and figuratively) to the fact that he was at this Edge. To be fair to Samuel, even Eli the priest - the one who was supposed to know all about this God-stuff - didn’t recognize the Edge at first either.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his own place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was.

Then the Lord called Samuel, and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down.

And the Lord called again, “Samuel!” and Samuel arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him.

And the Lord called Samuel again the third time. And he arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the young man. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down, and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place. (1 Samuel 3:3-9 ESV)

So, given this guidance from Eli, and a third-time prompting from God, Samuel prays a Prayer from the Edge. His prayer is so simple, yet so amazingly profound - "Speak, Lord, your servant is listening."

It seems like a nothing little prayer, doesn't it? So brief. So plain. It hardly seems like a prayer, let alone something so life-shaping as a Prayer from the Edge. But the truths and affirmations in these six simple words sho how prepared Samuel's heart really was to be facing this Edge.

We'll look at that prayer next time...

but, for now, take a look around. Ask yourself a pretty tough question... remember, it is the most foundational question you can ask. No matter what your church or religious or spiritual background is... Do you know God? Not just know about God - but know God. As in a relationship... as a real person?

Do you yet know the Lord?

Life on the Edge

I wonder if you've been thinking about the Edge.

What would the Edge be for you? What has it been for you in the past?

Some of us can only imagine what the Edge would be - we've never even gotten close to it. Others can vividly remember when the Edge was were we lived and moved and had our being. Still others read those words and think, "Remember the Edge? Imagine it? The Edge is where I'm at right now… it's all I see… and my knees are getting weak!"

How would you handle life on the Edge? Life on that raw, scary, sometimes painful, growing Edge?

Living on the Edge strips all the pretense away from us. We can't live there - in any healthy way - and keep up false fronts for long. Not those false fronts that tell us and others we are better or more "with it" or more "in touch with God" than we really are. And - paradoxically - not those false fronts that say we are less than we really are… less gifted, less loved by God, less worthy of God's grace. (In case you've forgotten, no one is worthy of God's grace… that's what makes it grace!) In Romans 12:3-6 Paul says:

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them… (ESV)

A good reminder for all of us to set those false fronts aside even when we're not at the Edge. But, perhaps, especially when we are.

The Edge has a way of striping away the protective clutter we get so adept in immersing ourselves under. It makes us take a realistic and critical look at our resources… and our lack of resources. The Edge makes us look critically at our priorities… and our lack of clarity in them. That's why the Edge can be so scary. It's also why the Edge can be transforming.

For us… for our families… for our neighbors, friends, church and countless people we may never know.

When we find ourselves at the Edge and begin to get the sense that it's not simply a quick pause on our journey to where we planned to go and in how we planned to get there but that we are about to take up residence there well, it moves us to do something we may not have done before.

The Edge will move us to pray. I don't mean those simplistic, cutesy prayers of childhood. (I've always thought the "Now I lay me down to sleep" prayer was a bit creepy to teach to kids… "and if I should die before I wake…" Pleasant dreams, Kiddo!) I don't mean the stained glass encrusted, "holy" prayers that many of us remember the elders, deacons, and pastors of our childhood praying in words we hardly understood. I mean prayers that are raw. Prayers that come out of the depths of our souls. Prayers that are raw, scary, sometimes painful in themselves. Prayers that are shouted, demanded, whispered, whimpered… that sometimes come through clenched teeth, balled-up fists, and broken hearts. In other words, prayers that are real.

Living on the Edge calls for - alright, forces - a response from us. It always has. There are countless examples history of people - individuals, families, communities, nations - who have found themselves at the Edge. Some have responded in healthy, faithful, and redemptive ways. Others, not so much. Those healthy responses may not always be the ones you first think of, either.

In upcoming posts, we will explore and experience the stories of a number of people from the Bible - both Old and New Testaments - who found themselves at the Edge. What can we learn from their prayers from the Edge? How can their examples - good or bad - guide us as we live our lives today?

One thing that each of the stories we'll look at tell us is that prayers from the Edge are not just words spoken. They are active. They take effort. They require us to be involved with God and involved in this life on that Edge. It's not enough to simply say the words - there are times when words can just be more self-protective clutter that keeps us from living. However, the effort, the action that real Prayers from the Edge lead us to may not be what we expect.

What would you pray at the Edge? What have you prayed there? How did those prayers move you?

Living at the Edge

Last time, I wrote about what it means to walk to the Edge. To move to that scary, important, cutting edge place in life where we can see the amazing and awe-inspiring vistas of what might be - both the positive and the negative.

It is good to walk out there to the edge from time time, to let yourself get to that knee-weakening, stomach-flipping spot where views of God's plan and will can sharpen into a clarity that can be just as knee-weakening and stomach-flipping as the highest precipice. It helps us to see beyond ourselves - beyond our limitations and our shortcomings. It can be staggering.

But what if the Edge isn't just someplace you can choose to walk to for a bit or a visit? You know... walk out there to the Edge, look around, get inspired, find new resolve and direction, and then head back home. Back to the normal routine. Back to safe and comfortable surroundings. What if that wasn't an option? What if the Edge was it? What if everything in life - things both in and out of your control - brought you out to the Edge and just left you there?

What if you had to live on the Edge?

I grew up in a great part of Seattle called Ballard. When I was growing up and going to school there (even before the cheerleaders pulled the ladder out from under me and gave me my dislike for heights), Ballard was still a predominately Norweigan and Swedish part of town - fiercly proud of it's Norse heritage and eager to share it with the rest of the city whether through it's Seventeenth of May Lutefisk eating contest, or the Ballard High School Beaver's cheer of "Lutefisk, lutefisk. Lefsa, Lefsa. We're from Ballard High School - Yeah, sure! Ya Betcha!"

Today, Ballard is an eclectic mixture of cultures, architecture, traditions, and people. It was then, and still is today, the proud home of one of the largest comercial fishing fleets in the Americas - including the ships and crews made famous on the TV show, "The Deadliest Catch." It was, and still is, home to a house my Grandpa Harton was absolutely convinced would slide down the side of the hill it was perched on. The folks who lived there, in an architecturally literal sense, lived on the edge. Actually, they lived over the edge since more than half of their house was built over thin air and supported by a few posts that reached from various levels of the hill to the bottom of house. It did look precarious, but it has stood up to the tests of time and weather.

I have no idea what the lives of the people who live in that "edgy" house are like. I never met the family who lived there during my childhood. I would guess that there have been several others who have lived there in the two and a half decades since I moved away from Ballard, and I find myself wondering about their lives. Have they experienced life on the edge in any significant way beyond where their address puts them? Have they ever known the heart-pounding, faith-refining experience of standing alone on the very Edge between what has been and what might be? Between who they've been and who God calls them to become?

Have you? Would you?

I don't know what the Edge may be for you, but I know it's much closer than you think.

And - I know that when you find yourself all alone out there on the Edge... you are never really alone.