The Lamb Died

               We learned a few days ago that Bartie, the lamb we described in our last posting, died.  I called the shepherd and found that in spite of injections, salve, bottle feeding, the lamb just couldn’t make it.   So what is there to learn from this experience?  In two words, empathy and grief.   Empathy with the Father’s heart when we will not turn aside to see, stop to listen, respond with obedience.   Grief for sickness, dying, death.    The Devil’s job is to lie, steal, kill.   He’s at work, and generally does a hell of a job.   As long as we live on this occupied planet by this evil ruler, with his tight knit mafia, we need to cultivate empathy and grief as essential life skills. 

If you don’t have little blind sheep around to teach you this, try swans looking into their own reflections.

  Or perhaps regular people bridging rivers over rocky ground. 

Opportunities to learn empathy and grief are all around you. Look, listen, learn—without judgment, knee-jerk reactions, blinding assumptions.   I hope to see you.

Fell Falls with Blind Bartie

               I had a lovely experience two days ago.   I was fell walking up high over Dungeon Ghyll.   I was coming up from the falls and toward home past Stykle Tarn.  Off the beaten track, round a bend, and low and behold, something I’d not experienced God-smacked me in the chops.   There was a lamb lying smack in front of me.   She didn’t move.   I looked into her eyes and they were blind, not seeing; eyes totally scaled over.   She looked frail; didn’t bleat.   I stopped, sat down next to her, reached out.   Scratched behind her ears.  She moved her head toward my hand.  I poured water from my bottle into my cupped hand.  She lapped a little feebly as I continued to pour.  I looked around, no ewe; abandoned.

 I picked her up and carried her about five miles back home to Grasmere.  Coming down from the hill fells in the rain was slippery over the rocks.   Together we fell and recovered a dozen times or so in the bracken, over rocks.   Reminded me of old Chinese saying, "Fall down seven times; get up eight times."    I talked to her, “well that was a bumpy one, huh?”  The lamb had settled down after awhile and didn’t seem to mind. 

I called Bethyl from the top of the fell, setting up a meeting plan. Just before she checked with David, the shepherd who lives above us, our friend of three decades, Michele O'Donnel, visiting us with her daughter, said "let me pray before you talk to David." She prayed for wisdom for us, even if the wisdom given by David wasn't what we decided upon. Our steps were covered in prayer all the way.  All our paths converged.  We put Blind Bartamay (as I had started to call her) in the backseat with Bethyl while I drove Bartie home.  Eventually, we found her shepherd farmer.

 The farmer, Erick, said she had a case of “staut”, from eating some plant that causes a neurological disorder leading to death unless short-circuited.   He said he’d bottle feed her, give her some medicine, and she’d be fine in a couple of weeks.   A happy ending for Bartie… and me.  

 Once upon a time another Shepherd found a little blind lamb.    He was on his own track, minding his Father’s business; but He stopped to look and see.  Saw me.  Sat down.   Gave me Living Water.   Picked me up.  Shouldered my burden.   Took me to safety.  

Today He honored me with faintly walking in His footsteps, getting a sense of His journey.  He helped me jolt downwards thru mud, off cliffs to bogs, lowering my pride.   He set me to thinking about how real and repeated is the fall.   All good object lessons from the master Teacher, who arranges parables for you and me--life lessons--so we might be prepared to live well in the days in front of us.

       

Sea to Sea to See

Our last two days were spent on the first two days of the 192 mile coast to coast walk.  This walk is across the north of England--from St Bees on the Irish Sea to Robin Hood Bay on the North Sea.  I'm doing it in bits, a couple of days here and there.  Bethyl drove and dropped me off. In order to let me go she needed to drive me over to the sea and drop me off, not be driven and have me just walk off. Her focus on actively separating helped me as I look back on it. My grandfather summarized succinctly when he said there were 3 things in life: holding on, letting go, and knowing when to do which. The catch in my own throat and heart were the same as in hers. The Red Sea didn’t part, just my wife and I. Even so, the aliveness in our spirits were signs of life.

I found myself grateful for smallnesses: the power bar and apple in my pocket; the clean water in my bottle; the sun’s warmth mingling with salty breeze in my face.

The pulp of life is in the little stuff.    It's the heart of the matter.    On this topic, check this link for a cool heart-check:  Click here: Stethoscope. 

In this sea-2-sea walk God is training me to see Him in the details of life. I still tend to look for the grand event while he slips in the back door. But more often I am catching him out of the corner of my eye, smiling to myself, and saying, “hi there, Jesus; thanks for dropping by; thanks for walking with me these 18 miles today from St Bees to the far side of Ennerdale Waters; thank you for walking with me the next day for another 14 miles.  The 3 mph God and his disciple.”

The lakes, fells, rivers, sweeping pastures—all showed God’s glory on tour: “Madam Day holds class every morning; Professor Night lectures each evening. Their words aren’t heard; their voices aren’t recorded. But their silence fills the earth. Unspoken truth is spoken everywhere.” Ps 19:2.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Worrying Sheep Not Allowed

Abba, You permitted a “lamb-story” during these last few days.  Orphaned twins, mother dead a month ago, being tended by the good shepherd, David. He dug into their infected hoofs with a sharp knife, gutting out a sharp grass spike that was causing them to limp. Ouch. He administered an antiseptic spray and left them in the small fold outside our windows.  Twice wounded--abandonment and infection--they wafted between wailing and snoozing… for three days. Yesterday, he opened the gate for them to enter the big pasture – just the two of them there. They huddled close against the gate, pressing for the protected walls from which they’d just been given freedom. Wailing, maaaahhh and baaaahhh, falling off the sleep.

Today, they are venturing farther out in the field, still just the two of them, grazing with no limping. Abba and Yeshua, You also shepherd me, similarly scraping out my emotional, physical, and mental infections, sparing no tactics in order that I may be healed in the Name of Jesus. Thank You for Your generous gentleness as You create a clean heart and renew a right spirit within me. Thank You, Gentle Shepherd, for Your patience to the little lamb who I am, for giving me the time to change. Thank You for being so kind! I am loved into becoming whole.

Father! Abba! You are my God! I thank You for locating me wherever I am—centered, off the path, frightened and off the path, trusting or continuing to trust. I love You and I worship You. Thank You, Jesus. You are such a loyal Son to Your Father and I love that You are loyal!

  It is not in your plan for me to worry!  Worry is a form of unbelief.   If I am in charge of my life I have good cause to worry.   But I thank you that you are my Good Shepherd.  You parent me.   You clean out my infections.   I can bleat, wail, sleep--and you remain faithful to me.

 I’m so grateful that You seek Him, lift Him up, and have shown Who He is to me … to us. You are so Kind! You share all He’s given to You… You hold nothing back! You are awesome. Thank You for welcoming me – all the time. Thank You that You creatively grow me by leading me along paths where I have the freedom to choose – I have the freedom to choose to see “the burning bush” as Moses did with You in Exodus 3… or to see it later if that’s the best I can do… but that when I see the “burning bush” You notice me seeing and turning toward it. How grateful I am that You recognize each nuance! As soon as I move to notice, You notice back. You respond, losing no time, missing no moment to speak and have relationship with me. That’s huge, Abba; simply huge. You are so Kind and Purposeful!


Thank You for calling me: my daughter! I’m safe in being Your daughter. In the midst of all the leavings: California, family, friends, my country the USA; and now in less than three months, we will leave the United Kingdom and the friends with whom we’ve become family in The Lake District. This is huge and feels overwhelming. Thank You for being the still point in the middle of life-changing circumstances.

Optimistic China!

We’re down to the last three months on our sabbatical. We’ve enjoyed the fall, winter, and spring. Now summer is upon us. It too will go quickly, exuberantly.   It will be hard to leave this vision from our backyard, but leave we will.

We leave September 3rd for Kunming, China, a city of about six million. We’ve been able to rent a place from a family who are leaving in July and won’t be back until the end of the year. This apartment is a wonderful bridge into the city; we have a place to be for a while as we situate and get our bearings. Our apartment building alone contains about 10,000 people.

We plan to connect with a social action group called The Bridge (www.dawenchina.com). They offer marital, parenting, relationship, reconciliation, and social programs beneficial to the locals in and beyond Kunming. 
 
We’ve got a language software program thru Rosetta Stone in Mandarin. One of us has begun learning with that; the other is biding her time and will start when and with the Spirit’s nudging . We’re a great blend of apart togetherness, each respecting the other’s gifts and timing. We are moving ahead, one step at a time, trusting God to open the doors He has for us and keeping closed those He doesn’t want us to enter.

I just read an article on optimism in this week’s Time Magazine (June 6th, 2011). A good article. As it turns out, we optimists tend to live longer with less stress. Compared to pessimists, we take more vitamins, exercise more, earn and save more. We also underestimate risk. As Samuel Johnson said, we’re a triumph of hope over experience :).   It might be a little like this sign from a local slate quarry:

Practiced faith fuels optimism. We see beyond the grave and live out heaven well before we die. Faithful hearts are hard wired for optimism, resiliently turning lead into gold. We cheerfully live from approval, not for approval.   Much like this lightning-struck tree, perhaps, that didn't know it was supposed to be dead already.   All it knew was that God had planted it by a gurgling stream.

The UK has been delightful. China will be outrageously adventurous--a momentary faith journey. We’re confident there will be enough light for the next step in any case; that our faithful Father will get us Home before dark.

Thank you for providing us a canopy of prayer, keeping us safe from ourselves and the Devil. We need you to remember us as we travel through time and space, even as we remember you.

Hope for Persecuted Disciples

This past weekend we went to the annual conference for www.interserve.org.uk. The theme was “When Love Hurts.” We listened to a lot of speakers who moved our hearts and minds toward oneness with people who hurt. We learned that about 20 people are martyred for their faith every hour every day, about 450/day worldwide-- http://www.wordjourney.com/news/christian-news/contemporary-martyrs-christian-brethren/


We include a heart-breaking, heart-warming music video that will join your hearts with many-- 4.5 minutes long and worth your time to sit back and enjoy it.

One of the worst offenders is North Korea, the “Hermit Kingdom”. Self reliance is the state religion. Any other religion is highly subversive. If you don’t accept the Dear Leader as your supreme value you are likely to experience punishment. Life is about survival. Kim-Jong II, since 1994, has authority over all people; there is no freedom to speak.


We watched a video of a history high school teacher in Pyongyang as he talked about two of his students dying for hunger. He hugged them as they died and cried for them. After this he threw his text books on floor. Each of them had a picture of Dear Leader on them. The Party Secretary in the school walked by his office and witnessed this. She told him he was to be killed before day's end; he believed her. He fled, was arrested, beaten severely for days, escaped by jumping out of a 2nd story window, somehow made his way to the border, and swam the river into China. He's in South Korea now, a pastor; recently he learned that four brothers and his mother have been killed by government officials (see his video interview at www.releaseinternational.org/video

As he speaks there is no sense of this man feeling sorry for himself. He asks for prayer for food for the people there. Most Christians’ teeth are rotting, falling out due to lack of nutrition. He also asks we pray for  people might continue to have hope in Jesus--that they don’t give up. Pray North Korean guards would stop shooting escapees with high power rifles using sniper scopes as they climb out of the river in Chinese territory. Pray for effective lobbying for the North Korean ambassador in London by signing a petition for human rights improvements (sign it online by clicking on www.releaseinternational.org/current).

We listened to many other stories of people who are persecuted for their faith in countries around the world—Egypt, Eritrea, Afghanistan, Sudan, Nigeria, and Pakistan. Prison, discrimination, loss of voting rights, property rights, rationing rights, death--this is the daily life of millions of Christians. We were told that among the persecuted there is a saying, “Every believer, a disciple; every disciple, a worker for Jesus”. We're reminded of our personal discipleship goals, expressed well by Ed Cole’s statement:

I am a Disciple

I am a disciple of Jesus Christ.

I am part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have Holy Spirit power.

The die has been cast. I've stepped over the line.

The love of God controls me. The decision has been made. I'm a disciple

of His. I won't look back, let up, slow down, or back away.

My past is redeemed. My present makes sense. My future is secure.

I'm finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning,

smooth and ease, colorless dreams, mundane talking, cheap giving, and

dwarfed roles.

I no longer need prosperity, position, promotion, preeminence, or

popularity.

I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or

rewarded.

I now live by faith, lean on His presence, walk in patience, live by

prayer, and labor with power.

My face is set. My gait is fast. My goal is the Kingdom of God. My road

is narrow. My way is rough. My companions few. My guide reliable. My

mission clear.

I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back,

deluded or delayed.

I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of

adversaries, negotiate at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of

mediocrity.

I won't give up, shut up, let up until I've stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, spoken up, for the cause of Christ.

I must go until He comes, give until I drop, teach until all know, run

until He stops me.

I am a disciple of Jesus Christ.

        As I was thinking of posting this blog today this rainbow at the top of this page appeared in the sky over our backyard, the Good Shepherd statue from near this week's conference came to my mind, and the lambs below cuddled next to their mom outside our window. Hopeful, I’d say.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



Higher Ground

Gaining perspective comes at a cost. Typically it means getting to higher ground. Small minded managers put their heads down and clear low-lying swamps. Visionaries climb hills, gains perspective, and say, “hey, that’s the wrong swamp!”

Higher ground mostly is harder ground.   Once gained, easier to hold.  But to get it?   Effort, courage, sacrifice--all the stuff that separates out good folks from great folks.   We're called to greatness.   So I listen and walk up, best I know how.

Today was spent in part climbing up through gloriously green forests, listening.  memorizing John 17.  Tucking away new perspectives from Jesus’ own lips.  He was certainly locked into a march of obedience up a steep Calvary hill in that chapter and beyond.   He had to hang on to his Father like this tree to its rock.

Just as Eskimos have many words for snow, folks here in the Lake District have many for green. Jesus had many words for growth: abiding in him, eating him as living Bread, following him as Good Shepherd, obeying him as Lord.

I’m aware that as I spend a lot of time listening to him—thru scripture memory, podcasts, spoken books stored on my phone, prayer—that if I don’t listen with a view toward obedience, my listening is delusional. I begin to hear things very clearly that are not so.

As I listen with an eye forward toward Obedience Pasture, with the sheep below, then commandments become songs that I actually like to sing. “And it came to pass that as he went he received his sight….”