Beautiful Seasoning by Virginia Hughes

A wooden rake, an old rolling pin, a stack of chipped mixing bowls, the wrought iron meat grinder, canning jars and a family Bible. These items from my grandparents’ home were the simple implements of ordinary lives seasoned and made beautiful by use of their hands over time. 

In the crisp autumn air Grandpa’s hands curl around the old rake made entirely of wood from handle to comb as he teaches us to rake leaves and gather branches under the massive willow tree. Most of the leaves have blown over from the red-orange sugar maples edging the property. As missionary children we relish this rare visit to our grandparents’ stateside home by jumping with glee to bury ourselves in piles of autumn leaves. A loaded wheelbarrow carries stacks of leaves for burning. No horsing around by the burning piles; we respect the command to stand back. A handful of colorful leaves rustles in my coat pocket. 

After we have labored, the aroma of fresh biscuits quickens our steps. “Smell those fresh biscuits in the air!” Grandpa announces, and we float into the house, our noses carrying us toward the heavenly scent. 

In the kitchen, Grandma is pulling biscuits from the oven and assigning jobs, “Get a spoon for the jelly.” She instructs. “Pour the milk, put napkins at the places and of all things, first wash your hands.” 

Grandma’s hands grip the rolling pin handles. The ancient rolling pin perpetually rolls dough with its thick cylinder of smooth, seasoned wood. Decades of cookies, pie dough and biscuits roll from the wheel marking times of lean and plenty throughout their lives including tales of how they survived the Great Depression. Family stories roll out alongside dough connecting us through many generations. 

The iron meat grinder sits on the counter waiting to be turned with a hand crank. While its origins are unknown, Grandma knows her great-grandmother used it in her kitchen long ago. “You can’t trust sausage, meatloaf or even a meatball unless you see what goes into it,” states Grandma exposing the meat jungle long before we read Upton Sinclair. “You must learn about the cuts of meat and proper seasonings or be unaware and eat terrible things.” She elaborates about wholesome ingredients. Her large mixing bowls are stacked with the highest expectations. 

Grandma’s hands curl around jars of canned green beans, pickles, whole tomatoes and strawberry jam as she stacks them on the pantry shelves. All the talk of canning is confusing. “Where are the cans?” Aren't cans metal and these are clear glass jars. An eight-year-old mind while imaginative, is correctively literal. The kitchen rings with Grandma’s laughter, “Where are the cans? Right here!” She points to shelves lined with rows of colorfully filled canning jars.

Grandma and Grandpa fold their work worn hands to pray before we dig into the biscuits. Grandpa’s prayer is sincere and blissfully short and for that I love him even more.

When I’m older I learn their home did not always center around faith. There is a season when Grandpa sits in the diner drinking coffee and reading the newspaper while Grandma attends church with their three young children. One summer evening in downtown Indianapolis, while out walking and munching on ice cream cones, the whole family is drawn toward beautiful music flowing from a tent service. After the gospel is presented, Grandpa gives his life to the Lord and his family attends church altogether now. They learn to read their Bibles and pray to grow their faith, and their children became young adults who join full time ministry. 

My mother is their 20-year-old daughter married for one year, saying goodbye to family and country. She and Dad are going to the Philippine Islands shortly after World War Two to start a Bible college and a family.

We are shown the large family Bible on display in my grandparents’ living room. Our names are written majestically in script on the page entitled, Family Births, along with our birth dates. The large Bible with my name in it makes such an impression that it immediately comes to mind when I hear about the Lamb’s Book of Life in second-grade Sunday School class.  “Is your name written there, in the Lamb’s Book of Life?” The teacher cryptically asks.

Never has one answered so swiftly nor earnestly as myself, “Oh yes, I saw my name written in the Lamb’s Book of Life.” The teacher is taken aback that I dare claim to have seen God’s own book described in Revelation. “And where did you see this?” She asks. “At Grandma’s. She has the Lamb’s Book of Life in her living room and my name and birthday are written right in it . . . in cursive . . . in ink.”  Teacher’s patience and raised eyebrows remain intact long enough for me to announce that I have also seen the page with the picture of lambs.

Grandpa and Grandma revere the Bible far too much to underline text or write a note in the margins. So, Grandma scrawls notes, names and prayer requests on bits of paper and tucks them into the Bible’s pages similarly to visitors placing prayers into the crevices of Jerusalem’s Western Wall. Grandma believes her prayers will be answered as she waits upon the Lord. 

My grandparents entrust my young parents into God’s hands and later their eight grandchildren as we come along. They are the lone set of grandparents keeping the home fires burning. My dad’s parents travel as evangelists and we see them even less than the stateside ones. 

No phones for calls. Letters waylaid and delayed. We are not together as a family for many years as Grandma’s rolling pin rolls out the biscuits, and Grandpa’s rake is raking leaves over many seasons, the canning jars fill with fruits and vegetables, and line the pantry shelves. Wholesome ingredients stir within the mixing bowls. 

We know our grandparents open their Bibles and fold their hands to pray. They trust God to keep us, savoring the telegrams, air mail letters and postcards announcing a new grandchild, and good news that we are well. An amazing bond grows between us despite time and distance as we believe we are loved and practice faith that we will see them again. Their presence in our lives teaching both family and faith reflects their use of the family Bible. For in it we find the beautiful and perfect seasoning leaving us equally satisfied and always wanting more.

Reformation Thoughts on Wittenberg by Dr. Gregg Quiggle

Writes Gregg, "Wittenberg, where Luther lived, is special place for me. The town is so small and yet it shook Rome to its core. Luther’s home is the former Augustinian monastery. You can go into the the room where he and his family gathered for meals and students pumped him with questions. It was there I came to understand the magnitude of his wife’s, Katarina, contribution to the Reformation. The altar in the small town church that so clearly shows Luther’s understanding of the gospel. On the outside of the church is a judensau, an awful antisemitic image from the 13th century reminds me of the Church’s failures. And then the Castle Church where Luther is buried and where he nailed the 95 theses. That town captures Luther and the Reformation, the glorious Gospel of God as well as the human capacity for sin."

A Reformational Journey by Trisha Williams

500 years ago...

On October 31, 1517 Martin Luther nailed it.  95 Theses that is. 95 reasons why the church's teaching about the sale of indulgences was corrupt. Pounding that document to the door at Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany (the equivalent of posting on the social media page of a university that a public debate was to be held), started a movement that is now known as the Reformation, and is a significant reason why 900 million Christians identify as Protestant in the world today. This past June I was privileged to travel with fellow teachers and my students on a two-week Reformational journey through Germany, France and Switzerland. Indulge me as I share the story of Martin Luther through my pictures with all of you. 

You might wonder how the whole of Germany, and soon the entire Holy Roman Empire heard about this nailed document. After all it was still the medieval period and the Castle Church door was not a secret portal to the Internet.  

Seventy-seven years before Luther nailed it, the German Johannes Gutenberg combined existing technologies to invent the movable type printing press forever changing the world. This significantly lessened the time of making a book and the cost of creating a book.  It's very telling that the very first book printed was a copy of the Bible. Today a Guttenberg Bible is one of the most valuable books in the world and is held in a locked, climate-controlled vault.   

Wittenberg was a small town and a small university far away from the Vatican City in Rome. Unbeknownst to Luther, students excited about the potential results of the debate translated the document from Latin to German, and used Gutenberg's invention to print thousands of copies. Luther's friend Friedrich Myconius later wrote that “Hardly 14 days had passed when these propositions were known throughout Germany and within four weeks almost all of Christendom was familiar with them.”

So who was this guy? How did an unknown priest rise to such prominence, and more importantly, how did this little man come to such a passionate understanding that the teaching of the church was so corrupt that he was willing to publicly dispute it even upon penalty of death?

Martin was born into the Luder family in Eisleben, Germany in 1483.

He was baptized at the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul and named Martin after St. Martin of Tours. St. Martin was a French saint who became famous for refusing to fight in Rome's armies. and instead became a passionate defender of Trinitarian theology and a destroyer of pagan temples in the third century. No coincidence here!

His father wished him to study law (which I find ironic after giving him such a namesake), so Martin obeyed, and moved to the University of Erfurt. But while thinking he would die while caught in a terrible thunderstorm, he vowed to St. Anne that he would become a priest and promptly joined the Augustinian monastery in the same town when he made it out alive.  

He spent several years in the monastery where God planted many seeds for his later work. For the first time he read Scriptures for himself. He prayed, he meditated, he beat himself, he confessed his sin so often to his fellow monks that they began despairing whenever he opened his mouth. Luther was deeply discontent with his soul's status before a righteous God. In monastery chapel was an image of Christ as Judge over all mankind. How could he ever be good enough to be accepted? Of particular note are the symbols in the early 14th century stained glass windows depicting the life of St. Augustine that he would have seen and stared at for hours every day. Later on in his life when he developed the seal now known as the "Luther Rose" it's obvious that his inspiration came from these windows.  

Despite his personal doubts about his own salvation, Luther was ordained a priest at St. Mary's Cathedral in Erfurt in 1507.

In 1508 he moved to Wittenberg to teach and in 1510, he along with a friend walked 1000 miles on a pilgrimage to Rome. It was while in Rome that Luther realized that the motivation behind the sale of indulgences (a special blessing granting of forgiveness from the pope on the soul of the sinner whether dead or alive) was purely for financial gain and to allay the cost of building cathedrals (a power status symbol in the medieval era).  

Cathedrals like the magnificent Strasbourg Cathedral in Alsace, France built by skilled craftsmen and laborers was financed through donations to the bishopric.  As it took almost 300 years to build, and no amount of normal tithing could have paid for its costs, one can be sure that the sale of indulgences and fines for punishments of sins committed helped foot the bill.  

Now home from Rome back in Wittenberg Luther continued to study, write, and preach against the sale of indulgences before his big posting on Castle Church in 1517.  In the same year he changed his surname from Luder to Luther, which one of his friends suspected may have been a play on the Greek Martinus Eleutherios which when translated means Martin the Free.  You see, Martin Luther had discovered the riches and freedom to be found in the biblical doctrine of justification by faith alone.  In his study of Romans, Martin became increasingly convinced nothing he could do would earn him favor with God.  The just shall live by faith, and faith was a free gift of God given to all who believe that Jesus Christ paid their debt on the cross, and in his death and resurrection grants believers his righteousness.  

It only took one year before Rome charged Martin with heresy.  He defended himself on the basis of Scripture alone and not church doctrine in Augsberg, and was forced to flee from his enemies under the protection of Frederick the Wise.  

In 1521, Pope Leo X issued the papal bull (a document excommunicating Luther from the church).  To understand the enormity of such an order, you have to understand the doctrinal teaching about church membership at the time.  Church tradition had taught that papal authority came from a spiritual ancestry descended from the Apostle Peter.  Popes were understood to hold the keys of heaven and hell, so when Pope Leo X sent Luther the papal bull, he basically told Luther that he would be damned for all eternity.  

So what did Luther do with this document?  He symbolically sent it to hell by burning it publicly at the crossroads in downtown Wittenberg in front of the whole town.  Since that day, a tree has been planted marking the spot where Luther took his stand.  

For his rebellion and continued writings, Luther was called to stand trial at the Imperial Parliament at the Diet of Worms before the Holy Roman Emperor Charles the V.  When asked to recant upon the penalty of death here Luther spoke the following words.  

My student Eli playing the part of Luther in our reenactment of the Diet of Worms on location.  

"Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Holy Scriptures or by evident reason--for I can believe neither pope nor councils alone, as it is clear that they have erred repeatedly and contradicted themselves--I consider myself convicted by the testimony of Holy Scripture, which is my basis; my conscience is captive to the Word of God. Thus I cannot and will not recant, because acting against one's conscience is neither safe nor sound. God help me. Amen."

The ensuing anger at Luther's declaration was without bounds.  In order to protect Luther's life Frederick the Wise staged a kidnapping and whisked Luther away to the Wartburg Castle where Luther disguised himself as Junker Jörg , a knight.  

Here by the grace of God, and despite great spiritual attack, Luther was able to translate the New Testament from Greek into the German language in just ten weeks.  

Despite the dangers, in 1522, Luther left Wartburg and returned to Wittenberg where he continued to preach, teach, and write promoting reforms in the church.  He encourage new hymns to be written, became passionate about educating everyone (both men and women) about biblical doctrine, and wrote many tracts instructing monks and nuns to leave their cloisters.  One nun named Katharina von Bora embraced his teaching and wrote to Luther asking him to help a group of nuns to escape their cloister.  He sent a fish merchant to the cloister and the nuns escaped to Wittenberg by hiding among the barrels.  

It was illegal according to cannon law to house escaped nuns or monks, so the fact that Luther was able to marry them off and get them gainful employment was remarkable.  All but one of the nuns that is.  Katharina apparently had set her cap for Luther and would have none other.  Luther had not thought that he should marry, but upon further reflection he thought that "his marriage would please his father, rile the pope, cause the angels to laugh, and the devils to weep," so marry her he did.  Luther was 41 and Katy was 26.  

John, son of Frederick the Wise, ironically gave the now married ex-priest and ex-nun The Black Cloister to live in, a dormitory for friars studying in Wittenberg, as a wedding present.

Martin and Katy's marriage changed everything.  Yes, Luther had already become infamous for his stand against corrupt Catholic teaching, but it was due to Katy's love and care for him through which he became the famous Reformer we now recognize.  Their marriage also served as a living act of reformation for all subsequent Protestant marriages.  They became well-known for their extraordinary hospitality and it was from conversation around their dining room table that Luther's notable Table Talks was born.  

Together they had six children and raised four orphaned children.  Due to Luther's exorbitant generosity (giving money away almost as soon as he received it) and penchant for inviting everyone and anyone over for dinner and a bed without always informing Katy, she had to work extra hard to keep everyone housed, clothed and fed.  She cared for their home, their farms, bred and sold cattle, and started a brewery to bring in extra income. Despite Luther saying of her that “If I can endure conflict with the devil, sin, and a bad conscience, then I can put up with the irritations of Katy von Bora" he affectionately called her "my lord Katy," and "the morning star of Wittenberg" due to her work ethic.  

Though they both seemed to struggle with their roles as husband and wife in relationship to each other, Martin is of particular interest for his thoughts regarding why all Christians should seek to honor God in the daily and perhaps mundane routines of life which Katy lived out so beautifully in front of him each day.  He said:  “Christ sayeth not, Abstain from the flesh, from marrying, from housekeeping, etc., as the Papists teach, for that were even to invite the devil and all his fellows to a feast.” The devil is in the details as they say. Luther also said: "Every occupation has its own honor before God.  Ordinary work is a divine vocation or calling.  In our daily work no matter how important or mundane we serve God by serving the neighbor and we also participate in God's on-going providence for the human race." In Luther's day this was a radical understanding of the sacredness of work, and in fact, it may perhaps still be for us in the 21st century.  

Allowing Katy to be his true partner in life and in ministry allowed Luther to flourish, and before dying, he even went against Saxon law and left all his property and wealth to her.  Sadly, she didn't take his advice and sell their lands after his death, trusting that his will would be upheld, which the court system did not do, leaving her quite destitute before her own death in 1552.  

In the same year that they married, 1525, Luther held the first Protestant German mass in St. Mary's in Wittenberg.  This is the church in which he baptized his six children, and it's from this pulpit that he preached for the remainder of his life.  

In 1529, Luther published his Large Catechism (an easy to understand summary of Christian doctrine.) Helping people understand the simplicity and beauty of the gospel was Luther's passion.  Knowing that many people in Germany could not read, Luther employed his artist friend Cranach to illustrate gospel truth. While Luther knew that veneration of the images in many Catholic churches was part of the corruption of the gospel, he too recognized that the images could be powerful tools to teach truth.  After all it was an image of Christ with a sword coming out of his mouth (a reference to Christ as Judge) that God used to bring Luther to a saving faith and understanding of the Scriptures.  

One can almost picture Luther walking back down the road from Castle Church where he taught each day and stopping by his favorite pub, The Black Bear, to continue discussing theology with his students. He was always so concerned that the common lay person, not just the seminary student, should be able to understand their faith.   Perhaps they drank the beer produced in his wife's brewery.  Perhaps it was also here that he heard the melody of a drinking song that he would borrow for his now famous hymn A Mighty Fortress Is Our God which was published in 1533 in Klug's Songbook.  Luther had strong opinions on music.  He said: "I have no use for cranks who despise music, because it is a gift of God. Music drives away the Devil and makes people joyful; they forget thereby all wrath, unchastity, arrogance, and the like. Next after theology, I give to music the highest place and the greatest honor."

In 1546 Luther died, and is buried in Castle Church in Wittenberg where his Reformational work all began. In Table Talk he's quoted reflecting on his own life:  “God knows, I never thought of going as far as I did. I intended only to attack indulgences. If anybody had said to me when I was at the Diet of Worms, ‘In a few years you’ll have a wife and your own household,’ I wouldn’t have believed it.” I appreciate the humility in these thoughts. God equips those he calls to the tasks He has for them.   He goes on to say:  "I simply taught, preached, wrote God's Word: otherwise I did nothing. The Word of God did it all."

While in Wittenberg, I had the privilege of attending an English speaking service in Castle Church.  A Lutheran minister from Brazil serving in a church in St. Louis, Missouri, United States, preached the gospel with a heavy Portuguese accent from the podium where Luther lectured his seminary students.  I spoke with him after the service and he said most of his church is made up of refugees new to the United States, and most come already knowing that the just shall live by faith in Jesus Christ who is their only hope.  He said that he finds refugees seem to believe this truth more than most American citizens he's encountered.  He ended the conversation saying that there will always be a need to reform the church because people are always forgetting that they can't earn their own salvation.    

 In Table Talk No. 1353 Luther is quoted as saying: “The principal lesson of theology is that Christ can be known. Here the teacher shouldn’t be ashamed of learning from his student, nor the student of learning from his teacher. Christ is friendlier than we are. If I can be good to a friend, how much more will Christ be good to us! When Satan leads me to the law I am damned, but if I can take hold of the promise, I am free. Peter said ‘Grow in the knowledge of Christ’ (II Peter 3:18) This isn’t a knowledge of the law, of dialectical skill, or of some other art, but it’s the knowledge that Christ is the most just and the most merciful One, in whom alone we dwell. Satan clouds this basic knowledge in our hearts in a remarkable way and causes us to trust an earthly friend more than Christ.”   

“No great saint lived without errors" said Luther in Table Talk.  And this is true and was true of Luther as well.  He could be vulgar, crass, and harsh.  As we remember with gratefulness this 500th anniversary we cannot overlook his contribution to the entrenched anti-Semitism of Germany that would one day culminate in the Holocaust of WWII.  He too was a man of his times who stayed with his times in so many ways, but where God allowed him to rise above, I am so grateful, and we can all still learn so much from him. 

Luther said: "A religion that gives nothing, costs nothing, and suffers nothing, is worth nothing." The Reformation came at quite a cost of life and limb.  In the middle of the famous Luther statue in Worms, there are two symbols: Mourning and Protest.  We need to remember the thousands of martyrs that paved the way for the Reformation to occur before and after, and to remember the violence that ensued during the 30 Year War after Luther's life.  We do indeed mourn the martyrs lives lost then and indeed still today due to ongoing persecution, but not as people without hope.  And we need to continue to protest.  Protest anyone who teaches false doctrines and tries to put up barriers to receiving the unspeakable gift--the amazing grace--knowing Jesus Christ and what he did for us.   

Sola Fide, by faith alone.

Sola Scriptura, by Scripture alone.

Solus Christus, through Christ alone.

Sola Gratia, by grace alone.

Soli Deo Gloria, glory to God alone.

Noses and Nostalgia by Nancy Taylor

The air is heavy today with the scent of rain and fall. It’s funny how our sense of smell can instantly transport us to another time and place. One whiff of hedgerows and roses and I’m back in England. Salty sea air wafting on the breeze transports me to the Outer Banks in North Carolina. Scotch pines swaying in the breeze take me to the Northwoods of Wisconsin. A particular cologne brings back all the feelings of young love because that’s what my husband wore when we were dating. The smell of cedar brings me back to days of playing in our walk-in cedar closet as a child. Gasoline and lawn clippings and burgers on the grill are all the best scents of summer. Maybe it’s no mistake that the words nostril and nostalgia are so similar.

The funny thing is, we can’t really describe a smell the way we can describe a sight or taste or sound or feeling. It’s something you have to experience for yourself, and it’s not always an experience we choose. Scientists tell us that the sense of smell is the most direct of all our senses. As we breathe in, tiny nerves transmit information to our brains. The effect of a smell is instantaneous, unedited, and visceral. And the information that enters our brains through our noses lodges in the long-term memory section of our brain. The effects of what we breathe in without even knowing it are long-lasting and inescapable. That is why smells have the power to bring up long-buried emotions of joy or sorrow, reduce our stress and improve our cognitive performance.

Perhaps the power of scent was on Paul's mind when he wrote, “we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life.” (2 Corinthians 2:15–16) Christians have a unique smell about us. We carry with us and in us the life of the Spirit, and he creates in us rivers of living water, which carries the scent of life and growth and hope. The promise of true life.

The scent of a Christian is interpreted differently by different people, just as the smell of grass clippings makes one person think of happy summer days and another think of miserable allergies. Those who are being drawn to life in Christ know that it is the aroma of the life-giving love of God, and to them it is the smell of life. The presence of another believer transports them to the glorious home they will one day share as they live in God’s presence. It is a tangible reminder of the worldwide family that we became part of when we believed in Jesus.

Those who have turned their back on God associate Christians with judgment because a Christian’s life of love and obedience to God makes theme realize that their own life stinks of death and destruction. To them, Christians reek of death. Maybe they are not too far off, because after all we are carrying in our bodies the death of Christ, the death which brings life.

There is another aspect to the scent of a Christian—we are, in our very existence as well as in our acts of love and worship, a fragrant offering to God. The prayers we breathe out and the good deeds we do for others are like the sweet aroma of sacrificial incense wafting up to him. (Leviticus 1:17) We are “a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God.” (Philippians 4:18) In these ways we imitate Christ, who “has loved us and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma.” (Ephesians 5:2) Regardless of how we are viewed by those around us, the scent of life and love that clings to us as believers is pleasing to God. It is a sign that we are a living sacrifice to him, that we have offered ourselves, body and soul, in worship to the Creator.

So the next time a scent takes you by surprise and transports you like a magic carpet to another time and place, think of the aroma of your life. Are you letting Christ flow through you so that you bring the scent of life to those around you? Are your attitudes and actions a sacrifice of praise that releases a sweet aroma pleasing to the Lord?

Follow Nancy's blog on her website: nancytaylorwrites.

The Great Homesickness by Rachel Rim

When I imagine childhood, that crescent of time when we’re somehow more human than we’ll ever be again, I picture strips of asphalt and living room windows. For the first seven years of my life, my father pastored a church an hour’s drive away from home. Since the small group my family attended always met in the houses of its more proximate members, it sometimes felt like we were eternally making our way home. Sitting in the backseat, drifting in and out of our parents’ conversation, my twin sister and I would gaze out our car seat windows in that hazy twilight between waking and sleeping.

By the time we turned off the freeway and into our quiet neighborhood, the world outside was a dark blur of shadows broken only by the occasional lights left on in people’s houses. Drowsy, wrapped in my own tangle of arms and legs, the warm air from the vents billowing out the Chicago cold, I’d stare out the window into strangers’ homes. With the infection of night, they seemed infused with mystery—esoteric spaces that opened an ache inside my chest, bright squares of hallways and curtains that coaxed whole worlds from their calyxes. Though I knew in my head that they were made of walls, ceilings and floors just like any other house, they seemed illuminated into mystery, a grain of belief I did not have to fight to hold.

Some fifteen years later, a diploma under my belt and the awning of adulthood now situated firmly above my head, I am envious of a time when anything—particularly faith—could be held with the gentle grace of childhood. These days, it seems there is nothing that does not require inordinate strength to believe. Living rooms, it turns out, are just living rooms; draw close enough, and the world beyond the sill shrinks back into the mere luminescence of your longing, a reality language can contain.

Once, sitting in the back of a different car making its way home from a different church, my sister and I asked our father why he believed in God. I remember his momentary quiet, how it fell like snow upon the dashboard, and then his simple answer: “Because of beauty.” I remember expecting a more dogmatic answer from a professor of philosophy.

At 23 years old, I don’t know much. About the only thing I know with certainty is that I don’t know as much as I thought I did a few years ago. Sometimes, oftentimes, it feels like life got confusing far before I got courageous, if I’ve ever gotten courageous, and this philosoher's daughter who grew up exposed to more theology than the average adult, can never quite seem to summon enough faith.

Yet if you were to return my question back to me and wait for my own snowfall silence to melt into words, then like so many times before I would quote my father: I believe because of beauty. I believe—because of beauty. Because of Rainer Maria Rilke’s poetry and the feel of nylon guitar strings; because of the miracle of friends and the paradox of the gospel; because of the strange amalgamation of darkness and childhood that takes strangers’ homes and flowers them into grace, and the insatiable ache for God that remains our deepest proof of him. If I had to venture a guess on any truth, it might be this: longing, like beauty, is inherently apologetic.

Rilke puts it another way, in a prayer that seems to float out an old window and into the surrounding night: “You, the Great Homesickness we could never shake off.” 

For the Beauty by Lorraine Triggs

For the beauty of the earth

fire-scorched

flooded     re-flooded

cracked faulty

For the beauty of the earth

groaning

under its weight

not glory

not yet.

Even so, come,

Lord, maker of new

earth,

heavens,

hearts.

Vitality by Dan Haase

This post is from OneWord Journal's favorite wanderer for wonder, whimsy & wisdom, Dan Haase.

One good lesson in learning to hope is as accessible as the outdoors. Mother Nature is a professor whose lecture requires active engagement. And the Headmaster of her school has organized all the topics around beauty, truth, and goodness. It is an invitation to the delights of wisdom. 

autumn colors 

both bright and dull 

an assignment 

Follow Dan's blog, "Gathering Wonder."

Your Kingdom Come--By a Worker in a Difficult Place

"Your Kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." When we don't know how to pray, these words from our Lord’s prayer express our longing to see the glory of God fill the earth as the waters cover the sea.

My husband and I have lived and served in a few different countries—each with its unique beauty and unique brokenness. In each place, it has become more and more apparent that though God answers our prayers in different ways, the one prayer he always answers "yes" to is the heartfelt cry, "Give me Jesus."

In one country, it was difficult to keep a positive outlook when we looked out our window each day to the same trash, the same poverty and the same deeply ingrained societal problems. One day, as I visited a local orphanage, a young mother tearfully dropped off a small child, the youngest of eight. They could not feed all of their children and hoped that at least here, at the orphanage, their youngest child would have enough to eat.

I returned home completely disheartened by the severity of the needs around me and my own limitations as a mother of small children (what good would a bag of tangerines and a box of oatmeal cookies do in face of such great need?). Not knowing what else to do, I wrote down a prayer full of requests that seemed impossible unless the Lord were to intervene in a miraculous way.

I wrote, "Lord, I pray for M, who knows the truth but is wobbling on the fence. Please help her to sink her roots deep in you. Help her not to be drawn in to the lifestyle of her boyfriend (who, at the time, was in prison for dealing drugs)."

I continued to write. "Father, please help N's husband to be drawn to you. She loves you so much. And Lord, please help there to be a Christian school here, so some of these kids can grow up learning your ways. I prayed for an orphanage where they can hear about you from their very earliest days. And Father, please help some of these children to be adopted into Christian homes." And my list went on. Finally, when it was finished, I felt a bit better, folded up the paper and went on with our busy lives.

Ten years later, then living in another place, I came across that old prayer list, and realized to my amazement that each request had been answered in specific and tangible ways. There was a school and an orphanage there and several of those very orphans had been adopted into Christian families, some in locally and some abroad; M was working in another country among a minority population there, sharing the gospel; N's husband had come to Christ. Tears came to my eyes as I thanked God for answering every single one of those requests, each of which only God could have done.

It struck me then that most of the things that really matter—the salvation of a soul, the return of a prodigal are things only God can do. Sometimes we are blessed, as we were then, to see specific, positive answers to prayer. But sometimes he says no. Sometimes as sure as we are that God is able to bring the dead to life, we also live in a broken world with its reality that some pain might never go away this side of eternity. Whether it is chronic physical pain, a broken relationship, a discouraging brain scan or silence where we hoped to hear a heartbeat, in those instances we must depend even more on the promise that he will never leave us and one day will make all things right.

Currently, we live in a place where many people are anxious and fearful. We live in a place where followers of Christ are in prison. We also have the privilege to live alongside people from many countries, some who have trusted Jesus, and all from people groups we prayed for when our kids were small.

Every day, at least five times a day, I am reminder of why we are here, and we pray. We pray that people will be delivered from their bondage to fear, and experience God's perfect love in Jesus. We pray for believers in prison, that their hearts will be encouraged as they wait, and that the God who holds the hearts of kings in his hands will also put mercy in their hearts. Only God's perfect love can cast out the fear, lies and darkness that cause people in power to mistreat perceived enemies as they do.

There is one thing we can pray with confidence. In the final reckoning, God's justice will prevail, so we pray for his kingdom to come and set things right. Meanwhile, in the waiting, we thank him for his mercy, because there are still many, even many we know and love, who have not turned to him yet. And he is patient with us, "not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance."

In the waiting, God has taught me that although we may seem and certainly feel rather vulnerable and even powerless, Jesus has made a way for us to draw near to him. He gives us full access to the One who is over all, who knows our names and hears our prayers.

So we keep praying.