“Why Are You Afraid?”

Meditation on Mark 4:35-41

Sunday June 24, 2012

                                             

                                     

       “On that day, when evening had come, Jesus said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’ And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him.

         A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But Jesus was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’

     Jesus woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’

     Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.

     Jesus said to them, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’

     And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’ ”  (Mark 4:35-41)

   

***

    I was about a month shy of my 7^th birthday on June 17, 1972, when my mother woke me up in the middle of the night and told me to come downstairs.  Now.  My dad needed my help!

    Though I heard the wind howling and rain pounding on the roof and windowpanes, I could not imagine what my father needed a 7 year old’s help with in the middle of the night.  But my mother had never awakened me with such a request.  And I had never heard that anxious tone in her voice.

    So I jumped out of bed and ran in my bare feet down the wooden stairs to our unfinished basement, the place where I spent many afternoons during our hot, humid summers in Maryland.  All of my best toys were down there—spread out on the floor or in cardboard boxes on metal shelves.  The basement was the coolest place in our un-air-conditioned house.  It was the place to roller skate, ride my bike, play with model trains and Hotwheels cars, or curl up on the old sofa to read. 

   But at the bottom of the stairs, I saw that our basement had become a pond. My sister and brother were already there, as was my father. They were filling buckets and wading through the water to the washroom to empty them down the old washtub sink.

   Someone handed me a bucket and told me to do the same.

   I did. The water was cold and immediately soaked through my nightgown that stuck to my legs and made walking difficult.  I could barely lift the metal bucket when it was filled with water, but somehow I got it to the drain.  And did it again.  And again.

    I remember feeling tired but still we had to keep working because the water kept pouring in through the cement block walls. We labored most of the night, until finally the pond had shrunk to a large puddle and some of our belongings that could be rescued were moved to the first floor.  We were fortunate in that we only sustained damage to our basement.

     The tropical system that hit the Mid-Atlantic 40 years ago was Hurricane Agnes.  It produced winds up to 94 miles per hour and 14 inches of rain or more within 3 days. In the Washington, D.C., metropolitan area, 34 people died; 103 homes were destroyed. Roads and bridges were washed away. Crops were ruined.

     The hardest hit was the Susquehanna River valley in Pennsylvania—the area from which my husband and I moved when I accepted the call to ministry in Renville. Forty-eight people died. Fire or flood destroyed 68,000 homes and 3,000 businesses; 220, 000 Pennsylvanians were left homeless.

    Agnes was a storm to be feared.  A storm that, to this day, mere mention stirs powerful memories and emotions for people who witnessed the terrible things wind and water can do.

***

    The disciples in their little boat had their own memorable experience with a terrific storm. They were certain they were all going to die.  And there was Jesus—asleep in the boat.

    They woke Him, screaming, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?!”

    They did not understand that their wise “Teacher” was also the Son of God. 

    And they lacked the faith that Jesus was trying to build in them.

    It seems strange to me that Jesus was “asleep” at the time of the crisis. Maybe the Lord only appeared to be asleep to those who were frantic with fear. Doesn’t the Lord always seem to be asleep or far away from us when danger is approaching and we are in a panic?

    The disciples assume that Jesus doesn’t care about them when He doesn’t react like they do to the powerful wind and waves.  

     But Jesus trusts His Heavenly Father, the Creator of wind and sea and human beings, in His image. He knows that God is in control of all things—and that God loves us.

     Jesus rebukes the storm. Calm is immediately restored.

     He scolds His disciples for their lack of faith. He asks them, “Why are you afraid?!

     And they are in awe of the one they call “Teacher.”

    “Who is this,” they marvel, “that even the wind and the sea obey Him?”

***

  

     My mother told me years after Hurricane Agnes that my father had never gone to bed that night 40 years ago.  He stayed up—watching and waiting—while we went to bed, unsuspecting of the dangerous storm that had been predicted.

    My parents had sent us to bed without telling us what they knew.  They didn’t want us to be afraid.

     Looking back, I don’t remember being afraid.  I was tired, cold, and wet, but not scared, though I should have been, seeing the water pour in as it did. And hearing the wind howl like I had never heard it before. 

    I had an overwhelming sense of peace that night. I trusted that my father, in his wisdom, could rescue us from the storm, and that we would be OK, if we simply listened to him—and obeyed.

    If only we Christians could always have the faith of a 7 year old, who trusts in her father’s wisdom, without fear when danger comes.

    Christ tells us that we can be certain that He is always with us—and always in control of the storms that rage around us. 

    Yet we try to convince ourselves that God is sleeping or far away.  Or just doesn’t care!

   We don’t have to live in fear.

   Do this for me now. Imagine that one thing that has you worried---the one thing that scares you the most.  The burden you have been carrying a long time and you can’t cast it onto the Lord because, when it comes to that one thing, you aren’t sure you can trust Him.

   Now imagine the Lord asking you,  “Why are you afraid?”

  “Why are you afraid?”

   Listen, with a heart of faith, for His comforting voice. 

   Trust in Him, whom the wind and the sea obey.

   

Let us pray.  Heavenly Father, forgive us for our fears that we just can’t seem to let go. May we hear your voice above our panic and feel your comforting presence throughout all the storms of our lives.  Build up our faith so that we can trust you with all our burdens—and cast them onto You. Give us the courage to seek Your Will and allow the Spirit to teach us your ways. Thank you for your love and for giving us Your Son, the awesome One, whom even the wind and sea obey. In His name we pray.  Amen.

 

   

Meditation for the Funeral of Mildred Bruns

    A scruffy gray and white cat ran ahead of me as I walked from my car toward Millie’s house.

    The cat acted like she owned the place. Tail straight and tall.  A V.I.C.  Very Important Cat.  And when Mildred Bruns opened her door and invited me in, the cat had already slipped through Millie’s legs and dashed to a bowl of dry catfood.

    The stray, like many of Millie’s pets, had found her.  And there were plenty others who had found her, including the elegant Boots—a black kitty with white paws.  He was a stray who had become one of her indoor friends.  Boots was permitted to sleep in Millie’s chair when she wasn’t in it, doing her daily crossword puzzles, or watching finches, Orioles and woodpeckers feast at her feeders or wash and drink in a seasonally heated birdbath.

    This scruffy cat, though outside wandering most of the time, was allowed in the house to eat because she had just had kittens, Millie explained. Young ones were depending on her.

    It didn’t take long to figure out one of Millie’s spiritual gifts.  Compassion. If you were one of God’s creatures, large or small, and you had a need, compassion led Mildred to try and meet your need.

    That was how Luke, a big black lab, became a member of the household.  He showed up one day on the farm and stayed when he received food and affection. But he still had to sleep outdoors. 

     That is, until the winter he came down with pneumonia. Millie feared he would die in the bitter cold.  He was taken to the vet in Willmar and then brought into the house. 

   Millie nursed him back to health.  And he couldn’t be put outside once he was allowed indoors, she said.

   So now Luke comes and goes as he pleases—letting himself in and out.

   He was resting on his partially chewed up dog bed under the kitchen table when I came for my first visit. I came to bring Millie a DVD of her grandchild Samuel’s baptism. And to see how she was feeling.

   The day of the baptism had been particularly difficult.  Back pain radiated down her legs and made sitting or standing almost unbearable. But she came anyway.  She wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

    Though I had met her in church, I got to know her much better the day she called to ask if I would baptize Samuel. We talked awhile about family and life on the dairy farm—both of which she loved. She told me Samuel’s story—how he was a miracle baby—a child Deb and Tom long hoped for.  An answer to their prayer.

     Millie’s phone call made my day!

    When I hung up, I knew the names of all of Millie’s children—Dennis, Duane, David, Darrell, Dan, Dorri and Debra—where they lived, and what they did.  And I knew that Millie was my friend—another person she cared about and would help, if I were in need. 

    She had many friends—in this church and the wider community.  People for which she would quickly throw together a delicious meal if you were hungry.  And there would be homemade chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

    She lamented that she had no cookies to offer when I dropped by.  She hadn’t the energy to bake much lately.  Or even to water her beautiful purple flowers outside her window. 

   But she was not discontent with her situation or limitations. She was grateful for her family who helped her and watched over her when her health became more fragile. She had a full, happy, active life. She didn’t mind living alone, she said, because she didn’t feel alone. She was living in the place where she raised 5 children with her husband, Leonard. It was where she belonged.

    She found strength in the bustling life of the family dairy farm.

   And she found strength in her faith.  She was sorry she didn’t feel well enough to come to church every Sunday, she told me, with tears in her eyes.  But she encouraged me in my calling and made me feel welcome here.

     My last conversation with Millie was on Friday. My husband and I dropped by her house to find out how she and Baby Samuel were.  Samuel had just come through surgery at children’s hospital but was doing well.  Millie had had a recent hospital stay and was preparing for more medical tests.

    We ended up talking about animals, of course.  I told her about a little scraggly black baby bird that had just appeared in my yard recently. And stayed.

      He seemed to be alone and vulnerable.  His wings were small—too weak to carry him high into the trees like the other birds. He awkwardly hopped along the ground and nibbled on seed that dropped from our feeders. He played in the waterfall under my leaky hose reel when I watered the plants.  He looked so joyful as he flapped his little wings, shook off the drips, and dipped his beak into the puddles to drink.

    I became so familiar with him that I could identify him just by the sounds he made—especially his furious squawking when other birds came around. 

     It was as if he were saying, “Go away!  This is my place!”

    “This is where I belong!”

***

     Friends, we can take comfort that God, in His great compassion, knows and cares about our need for love and a place to call home. Not just in this world, but in the life to come. We can trust that God has provided for our beloved Millie’s needs. And He will provide for ours.

    God sent His Son, Jesus, to die for us because He didn’t want US to perish in our sins.  He made a way for us to be forgiven and reconciled with Him.

     Christ rose from the dead and went on ahead of us to His Father’s House of many rooms or dwelling places—as He told His disciples He would.

     He went to prepare a place for us, to get it ready, and has promised to come back for us, when our time comes, to bring us to live with Him in our forever home.

    And though I can’t tell you what our home in eternity will look like, I can tell you that it will be a place of healing.

    A place of love.  A place of joy.

    A place where we can say with all certainty,

   “This is where I belong.”

“Not What We Want”

                                        Meditation for Father’s Day                                            

June 17, 2012

Philippians 4:10-16, 18-20 

^"But I rejoiced in the Lord greatly, that now at last you have revived your concern for me; indeed, you were concerned before, but you lacked opportunity. ¹¹ Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. ¹² I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. ¹³ I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. ¹⁴ Nevertheless, you have done well to share with me in my affliction.
¹⁵ You yourselves also know, Philippians, that at the first preaching of the gospel, after I left Macedonia, no church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving but you alone; ¹⁶ for even in Thessalonica you sent a gift more than once for my needs...
  ¹⁸ But I have received everything in full and have an abundance; I am amply supplied, having received from Epaphroditus what you have sent, a fragrant aroma, an acceptable sacrifice, well-pleasing to God. ¹⁹ And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus. ²⁰ Now to our God and Father be the glory forever and ever. Amen."  (Philippians 4:10-16; 18-20)

***

     My grandfather wasn’t like any of my friends’ grandfathers.

     They told stories, built tree swings, and played board games. Fixed bicycles and set up model trains.

     They attended their grandchildren’s school plays, concerts, and athletic events.

     Not my grandfather.

     I was afraid of my father’s father when I was small. He was loud, sarcastic and often unkind.  He drank too much.

    He wasn’t what I wanted for a grandfather.

    And I knew that my father wished that his father had been different, too. He wished that he had been fun to be around when he was a kid and had taken an interest in what interested my father.  My dad, though he was a city boy, liked plants and trees.  He wanted to go to college and study botany.  His dream was to run a plant nursery business.

    My grandfather, who had never gone to college, laughed about that. But my dad went to college anyway, commuting to the University of Maryland and paying for it himself with a part-time job. While my dad attended the university, my grandfather called him, “College Boy.”

    And it didn’t sound nice when he said it.

     My grandfather was often on the road—traveling with his job. My grandmother, my dad, and his younger brother didn’t mind his traveling so much.

     Life was easier when he wasn’t around.

     My grandmother had a double portion of what my grandfather lacked in personality and charm. She played games with us and told funny stories and knock-knock jokes. She asked, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”  The answer was always different. Sometimes, “to get away from Colonel Sanders.”  Other times, it was “to get to the other side.”

     She was interested in everything about us and would listen to us chatter while she cooked a huge supper in her kitchen. 

    My grandfather made her angry when he said mean things, like when he insulted her relatives. She and my grandfather had loud arguments.

    When that happened, I would run down to their basement and hide until the yelling stopped. I would ride the squeaky rocking horse. Back and forth.  Back and forth.

     In my mind, I was riding far, far away.

***

     I don’t know how the Apostle Paul remained content despite all the hardship he endured. I admire his faith that remained true while he was rejected, arrested, beaten, jailed, and starved. But Paul says contentment is something he learned.

     That means we can learn this, too.  We can learn to rely on the Lord to empower us for whatever He calls us to do.

    Paul says, “I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need.  I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.

     When I read this passage to the end this week, I heard something new.  When I reached, “My God shall provide all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus,” I realized that I had always assumed he was talking about physical needs—food, clothing, and shelter. But that would mean that God only cared about our bodies.

    The Bible tells us that God cares about our hearts.

    This scripture in Philippians is comfort not only for those who worry they won't have enough food for their families; it is also for those with a broken heart. When you don’t have the love you hope for and need from a family member—God provides that love another way—through someone else. 

    We live in a broken world, where no one has a perfect family—no matter how good things may seem from the outside.  Some people have horrendous family situations that we don’t know about because they keep it a secret. Victims of domestic abuse look like everybody else. They could be a neighbor, co-worker, or someone you pass by on Main Street in Renville every day.

    How do they feel when Father’s Day rolls around each year? 

    What kind of a Hallmark card do you pick out for a father or grandfather who is not what we want him to be?

***

     When my grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, we all took it hard.  But my grandfather surprised us all when he became her primary caregiver, though they could afford to pay for professional care.

   

    He bathed and dressed her each day.  He made her bed, washed her clothes, and drove her to doctor appointments. He got her prescriptions filled, and made sure she was taking her pills at the right times and in the right amounts.  He drove her to the beauty parlor to get her hair done, like she always had.

    The man who had never cooked before, now prepared 3 meals a day.

   

    Breakfast was a grand affair with eggs, bacon, and bagels, perked coffee, fresh squeezed juice, and grapefruit sliced in half. In the center of each half, he placed a maraschino cherry.

    He started drinking ginger ale instead of alcohol. The sarcastic tone left his voice. He often called and shared his struggles, when she no longer knew who he was. Sometimes, she would pack a suitcase and tell him she was going home to her father, a man who had died before I was born. 

     My grandfather had key locks installed on the inside of the house so she wouldn’t wander off and get hurt or lost.

     Then she came down with pneumonia and was hospitalized. 

     When she died, my grandfather was beside himself with grief.  At the funeral he took me by the arm and tearfully led me to her open casket.

    “Doesn’t she look beautiful?” he asked. 

   My father and uncle continued their visits and calls to my grandfather after Grandma died.  He appreciated this.  And he was grateful when my brother and his wife and kids came to visit and when I came with my husband and my kids.  Being with family lifted his spirits.

    And I was no longer afraid of him. He was not the same person he had been. 

    He had many regrets.  He and Grandma had planned to take cruises after they retired.  He had wanted to show her the world.

   

     And then my grandmother got sick.

     My grandfather’s heart weakened until finally he needed hospitalization. My father and uncle took turns by his bedside, comforting him as his breathing became more labored.  

      They were with him when he died.

       I know my father remembers his dad fondly and sadly on Father’s Day each year. He remembers their final years together, when suffering led to reconciliation. 

       I know God provides not the way we always want Him to, but according to His idea of riches. This includes healing relationships so deeply scarred that it is nothing short of a miracle.

      Our God of mercy used something as terrible as Alzheimer’s and turned it into a vehicle of healing and transformation for a family. 

      Maybe you have a similar story to tell—when suffering healed family relationships.  Maybe some of you had a father or grandfather who was difficult to love. Maybe you still do.

      Maybe they were not what you wanted. Maybe they just weren’t around when you needed them.

      My advice is to let the hurt go. Join me as we seek our contentment in the Lord. Let us learn together how to rely on Him for strength.

      And trust that our God will provide all the love we need.

Prayer:  Heavenly Father, we praise you that You are not like human beings, who sometimes hurt us and let us down.  Thank you for Your love that is unconditional and unceasing, though we have done nothing to earn it.  We accept and receive Your love through our redeemer, Jesus Christ.  You are always gracious and faithful to us.  Your words are gentle and reassuring, never harsh or sarcastic.  Teach us how to love our families the way You love us!  Lead us to forgive and be kind to one another. Help us to seek our strength in You.  Help us find contentment, no matter what our situations.  Fill us with the love of Christ that we may share with a broken and hurting world.  In Christ we pray.  Amen!

When Jesus Got Tired and Miracles Happened

Daily Devotional for June 7, 2012

Good morning!

    Jesus got tired sometimes.  Really tired.  I think we often forget that he was as much human as he was divine.

    In today’s gospel reading in Matthew, Jesus is exhausted from the physical and emotional demands of ministry. So he takes a boat to a deserted place to be by himself and recover.  Unfortunately, he has become so well known for his healings that the crowds find him, anyway.  They follow him on foot from the towns.

   When Jesus sees the crowds, he feels compassion, though he is weary.  He continues to heal the sick, disregarding his own need for rest.  Hours later, the disciples are so worn out and hungry that they beg Jesus to send the crowds away so they may go into the villages and find food.

    Jesus says no, don’t send them away.  Feed them here.

   The disciples say, “But Lord, we don’t have any food—nothing but 5 loaves of bread and a few fish.”

   What follows is one of Christ’s miracles—the feeding of the 5,000 with a few loaves and fish.  And there was food left over!

   What inspires me in this passage is that Jesus gets very tired – just like we do—and yet he pushes on to continue in His Father’s ministry.  His compassion moves him to do these things, to rise above physical or emotional discomfort.  That happens to me sometimes and I am sure it happens to you.  When there is a need, you seek to meet it, despite how tired you might feel and how full your schedule is.  It isn’t wrong to do that.  Your heart tells you it is the right thing.

   But I am inspired, as always, by Christ’s recognition of his own need to be alone with the Father.  When you are physically tired, you are also emotionally and spiritually tired.  We need the Spirit to refill and renew us.  That happens best when we are alone with God in a place where there won’t be all the distractions of daily life and responsibilities.  Recognize your own need to be alone with God and you will be blessed with peace and rest.

   And I am always uplifted by the retelling of the miracle of God’s compassion and provision for us.  No matter how hopeless our situation may seem, God can make something good happen. He will provide us with what we need, maybe in a way we cannot imagine.

    We cannot predict the goodness of God, but we can count on His goodness and love.  Those things will never change.

    When people say negative things to you and try to steal your joy or hope, remember that we have a God of miracles who loves us!  He heals the sick, comforts the grieving, and brings us joy and strength, even during the difficult times of our lives. 

   Believe!  Believe!  Believe in Jesus as your Savior and Lord.

 Prayer:  Loving Creator God, you are our God!  We worship only you.  We place our trust in you.  We believe in a God of miracles whose love and provision for us will never end—not in this world, nor in the kingdom to come.  Comfort those who are grieving this day.  Be with the Wordes family, who lost a husband, a father, and a grandfather when Delton passed away last night.  Give us a vision of your heavenly kingdom of light, where there is no hunger, no sadness, no pain.  And there is only love.  We long for Christ’s return and for your kingdom to come, so that on earth it will be as it is in heaven.  In Christ we pray.  Amen. 

Today’s readings are Ecclesiastes 3:16-4:3; Galatians 3:1-14; Matthew 14:13-21; and Psalm 50.

Blessings in Christ!

Pastor Karen

“Just Like Riding a Bike”

MEDITATION for June 3, 2012

Trinity Sunday

John 3:1-27 

       Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.”

     Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”

     Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”

     Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

    Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?”

    Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? “Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man.

     And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

     “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” (John 3:1-27)

***

     Got a new bike this week. It’s lavender and has a basket on the front and a cool bell. Ding ding!

     I bought the bike at Walmart and Jim found the basket and bell online.  The basket, because I gotta have room for my stuff, for whenever I go on a long ride.  (It’s not big enough for my Pomeranian, just in case you are wondering.)

      The bell was Jim’s idea.  I guess so that when I am riding around Renville, I can ring my bell to say hello to people, without taking my hands off the handlebars.  Or maybe it is so if I am about to crash into a pedestrian, they will have advance warning.

     You see, I haven’t ridden a bicycle for at least 15 years—since my 19-year-old son James was a little guy. So I am not very good right now. But I used to ride all the time. James used to ride on the back in a special toddler seat.  He had a little white helmet. 

    And whenever he would see me getting my bike out of the garage, he’d run after me, waving his helmet. He was always ready to go.

   After riding my new bike in the church parking lot this week, I have one observation to make. Whoever came up with the expression, “just like riding a bike” when they meant something was easy to relearn how to do when they hadn’t done it in a long time, didn’t know what they were talking about.

    Learning to ride a bike is not so easy.

   The first loop around the church, I could feel the burn.  Ouch!  Evidently, sitting at the computer every day doesn’t develop the muscles you need for riding a bike. 

    But I want to ride, anyway, because when I am on my bike, though my legs ache and I get tired, I feel good. I have the same peace that I do when I take walks with the Lord.

    So now I am riding my bike with Jesus, too.

   Learning to follow Christ is kind of like learning to ride a bike. 

   It’s not so easy. It can be painful, especially for an adult who was not raised in the church or did not accept the faith as a child. It can be frustrating, when you are trying to be a Christian and your friends, coworkers, or classmates just don’t get it.  Why aren’t you available to go golfing on Sunday mornings or go away every weekend and not bother with church?  Why can’t you just have a good time, without always thinking about the Lord?  

     But you can’t help thinking about Christ, if you want to follow Him.

    Being a disciple begins with His call on your life and your decision to obey.  You aren’t automatically a Christian just because your family or friends are Christians.  Or because you went to Sunday school as a kid.

     You have to decide that following Him is what you want.  And you don’t just make the decision once in your life. You make it every day, when you wake up. You set your mind on being His disciple.   You surrender yourself and your life to the Lord and say in your heart, “I am yours. I am ready to go where you lead. I will do what you want me to do.”

    When you first make a decision for Him, your life begins to change. It just happens. You have opened the door for the Spirit to work in you like crazy—without any resistance from your flesh.  

    You start thinking and behaving differently. You begin to realize that life in the Spirit isn’t all about your desires and plans for the future.  That’s what life in the flesh is.  Being a Christian means you are born again from above, like Jesus tells Nicodemus in our reading in John.

     Sometimes, when the Spirit is working in you, you can’t sleep.  The Lord is trying to get your attention and teach you something and you are struggling against it.  You don’t really want to change—because it is hard.  It’s like those first few laps you make on the bicycle—it doesn’t always feel good.

    And even later on, you may not always feel like being a servant—because it is work! And it involves sacrifice. You might rather just do your own thing, without worrying about whether God has other plans for you.

     But if you are faithful to Christ’s call to discipleship, you will have peace. 

     If you resist the Spirit and turn away from the Lord’s Will, you will lose your peace. 

     Nicodemus was struggling in mind, body, and soul that night when he finally got up and went to Jesus in the darkness.  He didn’t want to be a follower of Christ, which would place his own life in danger. But God had plans for this important teacher and leader of the Jewish community.  Nicodemus would become a strong witness for the Lord, a follower of Christ, after Jesus was crucified.

      It was that night, when Nicodemus came to the Lord for answers, that Jesus spoke those amazing words that sum up the gospel message.

    “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

     Why did He give His only Son?

     Because He loved the world.

     Did He send His Son to condemn the world?

    No, He sent Christ so the world might be saved.

     This afternoon, we will gather to celebrate the 100^th birthday of our oldest living member.

     Henry has shared that he feels blessed for his long life—and especially for the love of his wife, who passed away some time ago. 

     You know how the Psalmist says, “My cup runneth over?”  Henry says, “My barrel has runneth over!”

     But he’ll tell you that he spent many years with the Lord and many “without the Lord”—just doing what he wanted to do.  If he could change anything in the past, he wishes that he could have been with the Lord all his life.

    Some of you may be thinking the same thing, regretting the years when you were not following Christ with all your heart.

   But, I assure you, what matters most is your decision to follow Christ today and from now on.  God has forgiven you!  We can’t fix our past, but we can trust the Lord with our future.

    Because God loved us first—before we knew Him, when we were still in sin.  

    And He didn’t want us to die.

    So He gave His Son to die for us. 

    So that those who would believe in Him would have everlasting life.

Let us pray.       

       Gracious and merciful God, Thank you for what you have done for us through the sacrifice of your Son.  Thank you for your love and forgiveness. Thank you for your Word and for revealing your will to us when we seek you and submit ourselves to you.  Teach us how to be your faithful disciples and to disciple others in Your Word and Your ways.  Give us the strength and determination to follow you wherever you lead and to do whatever you say.  In Christ’s name we pray.  Amen.