A record of the genealogy of Jesus Christ the son of David…Abraham was the father of …David was the father of…Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ.                            Matthew 1:1-17

I encountered a woman just over a week ago.  She was standing in the lobby of an adoption agency.  She quietly rocked from side to side about the room.  She was waiting for her husband to pull the car around.  She held her son.  He was about 12 days old and slept in her arms.  He had, only moments before, rightfully joined their family.

She didn’t have much to say.  I think she and I both knew that if she tried to talk, not only words would come but tears as well.  This boy in her arms was her long awaited son and he was finally and forever coming home.

She and her son did not share the same race.  They looked nothing alike.  This boy had a different father than the man whom he will call Daddy.  This sweet baby boy had just been legally adopted.

When you see this happen, when you get to witness the power of this experience, it will drop you to your knees in awe of the power of the very moment, the beauty of love that transcends blood lines and shared features and traits.  Both parties have waited so long, both parties are blessed by the sacrifice of one who gave life, hope, and opportunity.  One sweet woman sacrifices and from it three others get the gift of fullness of life.  It’s just overwhelming.

And that boy is now her son, the new mommy rocks back and forth with this child who is now and forever, every bit, her son.  He will eat with them, sleep in their home, enjoy the benefits of family and love and heritage and inheritance.  He is her son.

Adoption is powerful.  It crosses racial boundaries, it infuses blood lines, it transcends history and science and hospital records.

And that’s not just how the family sees it.

Jesus Christ was the Son of the Living God.  He was born of the virgin Mary by the power of the Holy Spirit.  This Christ was to be of the line of David.  Do you see where I’m going with this?  Through whose lineage was this Child connected to King David?  Was it through Mary, His only human parent?  No, in God’s eyes, He had another parent.  There was no blood connection, there was no shared facial feature, but He was his Son.  By the power of adoption, this Christ was the Son of a Davidic man named Joseph.  And God saw this adoption as so binding and so real and so all-encompassing that it was good enough to fulfill prophecy.  Joseph’s adoptive Son was the Christ of the Davidic line.

God knew a bit about adoption.  He still does.

Many adoptive families celebrate ‘Gotcha Day’ – the day when their child joined their forever family.  Technically these are called Placements.  They’re a pretty big deal.  God sees Placements every day.  Every day is a Gotcha Day among the angels.

For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight.  In love He predestined us to be adopted as His sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will–to the praise of His glorious grace.                                                                                                                 Ephesians 1:4-6

I am the daughter of the God Most High.  My adoption is binding and powerful and all-encompassing and my inheritance and position are sure and profound. Sons and daughters are not given away or passed over, they are not tossed out when sin creeps in and they aren’t withheld love when it isn’t actively returned. True sons and daughters are as good as blood, they are the real deal, they are powerfully and forever bound to the Father with whom they have had a Placement.

This Christ, born to an adoptive dad and a child mom, whose birth was lowly, whose appearance so breathtaking in it’s surprise, this Child is my Brother.  My big Brother at that.  And in this family, I belong.  I fit in and am welcomed.  I’m seen as valuable and useful and beautiful and loved.

I am the daughter of the Lord of all Creation, the Almighty Maker of Heaven and Earth, the God Most High.  He’s my Dad and in Him I belong.

It’s storming here.  I love a good storm.  The house is quiet, everyone is long since sleeping, and the only sound is that of the rain outside my window.

Weather is fascinating, isn’t it?  Fog.  Who could ever have thought of the idea of fog.  And then there’s the science that makes it possible!

God’s creativity is one of my favorite of His traits.  Rain and flowers and bugs and the human body.  How did He come up with it all.

His creativity inspires awe and wonder.

Nowhere do I see greater creativity and wonder than in the plan that He devised to save mankind from themselves.  He sent a baby to be born in a cave.  He revealed this truth to outcast loners on a hill in the middle of the night.  He got the attention of the wise of the world by altering the stars.  And time after time He used the lowliest of mankind to bring about His masterful plan.  If I had all of eternity to concoct a grander, more obscure and beautiful plan, it would never have formulated quite like that.

Life is so rarely follows out script.

I feel fairly certain that neither Mary nor Joseph anticipated lives like the ones that God would call them to lead.  I’d venture that very few people ever believed what Mary knew to be true.  Most likely thought her quite pompous in her silly claims to try to exonerate herself.  Joseph’s friends surely did not understand and probably called him the fool for falling for Mary’s ludicrous lies.  But it was enough for them that God had called them to this life.  They needed no one else’s approval, respect, or understanding.

God intervened and their plans got wrecked.

And look at how beautifully it turned out.

When our plans go south, when things don’t go as intended, that’s when you need to get out your binoculars because something wonderful may be on the horizon. So often we hold our heads down in dismay when life goes off cue and we don’t have our eyes toward heaven, ready to see what the Lord has in store.  And we just miss it.  Wonder went before us and we had our heads hung in dismay and we missed it.

Shepherds came with wild stories of angels and glory!  Outcast men who didn’t mingle among the people sought out a young girl in a place not meant to house humans at all.  There had been not one angel, but a host of them.  They told of the greatness of this night, the birth of this King, the wonder of this coming.

Mary knew that life had gone off script, but she trusted that her Maker had a better course in mind.  And with a heart of wonder and a soul of love, faith, and trust, she watched her own life unfold with a spirit of splendor, awe, and amazement.  Who could dream this up?  Who could make up such a tale of love and beauty, of sacrifice and wonder, of seeming lows and eternal highs?  Who could inspire such wonder as this?

My God could.

And every day My God spins lives of greatness.  He weaves tales of love and beauty, of sacrifice and wonder.  Every day, in a million ways, my God makes wondrous the lowly.

God’s Word tells us that Heaven will be a restoration of Eden.  The picture of eternity that was given to John in the final chapters of this great Word is one that brings together all that was beautiful there and perfects it, restores it to it’s intended glory.  God made something beautiful, we dirtied it up, He restores it to it’s intended glorious state.

That’s Christmas.

Today my thoughts are rather personal.  I concede to this.  But a picture that spans from Adam and Eve, to a baby in a feeding trough, to a girl with electronics on her lap, to an eternity of awe and wonder, that is one that must be powerful.  It survives forever.

As I made a long drive home yesterday I rode along an incredible sunset as I listened to one of the most beautiful songs ever written, Pachelbel’s Canon in D (my favorite).  I begin to ponder.  It was breathtaking.  It was beauty and perfection and flawlessness.  It was on this earth and yet smacking of Eden.  It was life restored.

Christmas is all about restoration.  God created man to walk with Him, commune with Him, share eternity with Him.  He made something beautiful.  We messed it up.  We dirtied His beautiful plan.  Step three is about all that is predictable about my God.  He restores.  He creates, we mess up, He restores.

We lost our ability to be the beautiful things that God created us to be–perfect image-bearers, flawless friends of the Living God.  And we had no way back, the price was simply too steep.  So God made a plan.

He sent Christmas to restore us to Himself, to give us the opportunity to return to the glorious state that we were created to occupy, to bring back to us all the joy of fellowship with our God and King.  He sent His Son as a baby that we might be restored, and that the whole earth might find it’s perfection in eternity through His offering.

I spent the day in the company of those with whom God is restoring relationships. I watched as He gave me this inspiring picture painted across a darkening sky of how breathtaking restoration can be.  As I write these words, a family waits with eager excitement as a child will join their family, restoring life and promise to them all.  The year winds down, the death toll of winter, chimes the coming of newness on the horizon.  In the very seasons of our years and lives, God reveals the pattern of restoration.

From the curse pronounced in the Garden, God has been revealing a plan much older than even that.  He has been making known what lengths He would go to to restore that which was tainted.  We muddied the water, He cleanses it anew.

At what might we aim if we desire to hit the target of eternal significance this Christmas season?  The spirit of restoration, the making new of that which has grown old and sullied.  I’ve often marveled at the variations of that Christmas song that says, “faithful friends who are near (dear) to us, will be dear (near) to us once more.”  Judy Garland says the ones ‘who are near will be dear’, other artists usually say ‘dear to us are near to us.’  I used to think that it was so funny that she misspoke and they never went back to fix it.  I’ve come to change my tune.  I think that she too had an eye for restoration.  Restoring to their intended state the relationships that have grown old and sullied with time.

When Christ came down, He brought restoration; restoring the beauty and purpose and glory and intention and meaningfulness and love and perfection that He created everything to hold.  Restoration of lives–lives too that have grown old and sullied; of relationships; of nature, long abused and undervalued; of fellowship.

May I see the spirit of restoration at work around me this season.  May I bask in the beauty of a plan that makes it possible for me to walk in moments of Edenic perfection with a God who both made and bought me.  May I follow His example and let restoration come, even at the cost of letting the old and sullied fall away. May I look with awe at the newness and beauty that He can recreate from that which I have tainted.

While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.  She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.                             Luke 2:6-7

My daughter is pretty impressive with a bow and arrow.  We have a big target that we move around the front yard to shoot arrows into.  It’s really pretty cool, and it’s actually quite fun, a good workout too.  If I stand in my front yard and attempt to hit the target, I can hit it most times.

But what if I didn’t know exactly where the target was.  What if my daughter put out the target and shielded my eyes and said, “now hit the bull’s eye.”  How often might I hit it, you think?  The target could be anywhere- in front of me, behind me, anywhere.  My chances of getting it in that circle aren’t very good if I don’t know where to aim.

I think many of us don’t know where to aim when it comes to Christmas.  The world and many of our pasts and traditions and family plans, they can all distort the vision.  I want desperately to ‘get it’ this Christmas, but with all the possibilities, all the options, all the favorites and must-see’s, what exactly is the ‘it’ that I want to get?

The Bible really says so very little of our Lord’s birth.  Amazingly little, but I’ll come back to this another day.  The verses that are there have been repeated for many of us so often that they almost seem trite, overdone, like lines in a play rather than realities pertaining to me and my life.

The God of all Creation, the Maker of Heaven and Earth came to earth in the form of His own creation.  Unprecedented things occurred; angels appeared to both individuals and groups, skies were alight with multitudes that praised God and spread word of His plan being played out among men.  Our God condescended, He came near.  The plan of salvation entered the human realm and began to play itself out amid those who would benefit from it.  Prophesy was fulfilled.  This is a big deal.

Christmas is more than gifts and decorations, though they play a part in it.  It is more than lights and gathering, traditions and music.  So often those things are considered the root, when they are but the offshoots, the outer workings of an inner reality, a deeper truth beneath the facade.  Those are the trappings, the ribbon that adorns the actual gift, not the gift itself.

What then is the gift?  What is the target at which I now aim?  I can shoot in the dark this season and pray for the best, pray that somehow my attempts to truly grasp the enormity of this occasion will find their mark.  Or I can aim more wisely.  I can find the target first, and aim thereafter.

It’s all about the baby.  It’s found there in a cave.  It’s in the wonder and awe, the humility, the ramifications, the sacrifice, the truth and beauty of these solemn moments.  I have more than a dozen manger scenes all over my house.  I’d imagine you do too.  Stop and really look at it.  Stare at that baby.  Picture yourself in the room.  Smell it.  Shiver in the coolness of the night.  Picture Mary, so humble and modest.  Imagine how it is she made it through the night.  See Joseph, not knowing how on earth to help.  Did he stay by her and hold her hand?  Did he stand outside, giving her the privacy in the intimate moment he had never broached with her before?  Did they cry in disappointment that they couldn’t do any better for this Immaculate child?  Did they feel excitement or was it fear and dismay?  It was real to them.  He was real.  That baby she birthed, that child they couldn’t manage to find a bed for, that infant in a trough was, without question or doubt, the God of the Universe.  Imagine yourself as His mom and try to swallow.

This Child changed everything.  When God comes in, He changes everything.  It was true that night.  It is true today.

Don’t let me miss the target, Lord.  Don’t let me ogle over the wrapping paper while dismissing the gift.  Don’t let me praise the mud pies of this incredible season, while unaware of the feast that is offered me here.  May the spirit of this season, the very heart and meaning and power of what has happened find its way into my soul and permeate every part of who I am, how and why I celebrate, what I deem worthy of my time and attention, how I treat others, what holds prominence in my life.  Narrow my focus, Lord, to the true and eternal target of my attention.

I went for a very long run last weekend.  If you are about tired of the running stories, please bear with me once more.  It was a hard run.  In the spirit of humility, it was the worst I’ve ever had I think.  I began to have a cramp in my calf with quite a few miles to go and was forced to stop and stretch and then continue at a walk. Now, run-walkers pass me every race I run.  They beat me over and over, but I just can’t join them.  My body doesn’t work that way, if I stop running then my body thinks we’re done and doesn’t take lightly to starting back up again.  So for me to stop and walk is not normal and not welcomed.

To stop and walk because I have no other option is humbling at the very least.  It isn’t what ‘runners’ do, hence the title of runner. I began to ponder other things that I have felt were somehow beneath me.  I remember when I was not a kid, but not a teen in that unsettled place between.  My church had a ‘children’s church’ program.  You sat through the music in ‘big church,’ then filed out of the sanctuary to a back room where you did activities more suited to your age.

I was close to too old for children’s church, but my neighbor ran it and I enjoyed helping her each Sunday.  One Sunday she wasn’t there.  I didn’t know this.  I filed out with the kids and found someone I didn’t know leading the pack.  The woman didn’t know me, she didn’t know I was a ‘helper’ and not a student, she didn’t know that I was too big for that craft project.  She didn’t know that all that was beneath me.

How old do you think Jesus was before He really put it all together?  Do you think He knew from birth that He was God?

Do you think He ever got fed up with His earthly body and the limitations it put on His infinite power?  Do you think He was disgusted by the fact that He had to be potty trained and didn’t just do things perfectly in complete bodily control?  Do you think that He ever wanted to say, “If you had any idea who I am, you would never ask me to wash these dishes!”

Just imagine for a minute what His life must have been like.

Have you ever had someone try to tell you about some subject on which you happen to be a certified expert, not knowing just who you were and what you knew?  Have you ever had someone tell you at length of things you know like the back of your hand?  It makes you want to fill them in, doesn’t it?  The inclination is to stop them and say, “Actually, this is what I do for a living.  I happen to know all of this already, perhaps I can tell you a few things.”

There was never a conversation that our God in the flesh ever had where He didn’t know more about the subject than the person with whom He was speaking. There was never a time in His life when He was inferior to someone.  He was fully man, but He was fully God.  At any time, He could have called in the legions and expressed His Godly character to it’s fullest.  All the humility that He expressed was an act of will, a choice that He consciously made.

Can’t you see Him, shaking His head, belittled by His tasks and His limitations, and mumbling the words, “I’m really taking one for the team here.”

Those humbling situations where I find myself wanting to be treated the way I ‘should’ be, where I’m disappointed with myself for not asserting the skills or talents I know I have, where either I or others have forgotten just who it is I am and what I’m capable of.  I don’t go looking for those.  And I try to stop them when they look for me.

Every minute of His life was one of those situations.  All day, every day, He did that which was beneath Him.

And it began at Christmas–the first concession to the plan, the first of many times when the Savior would say, “Ok, I’ll take this one for the team, I’ll do this for them.”  It was the beginning of that life of humble moments lived in denial of His rights, in the selfless demeaning of His Perfect, All-Powerful potential.  He let Himself be squeezed into a frail and helpless capsule of skin and bones.  He let Himself be stripped of all power and control.  He let Himself be put into the care of an average little girl hand picked to be His mom.  He let Himself take on bodily functions that reminded Him every hour of this new humanity – every hunger pain, every dirty diaper, every rash, every human need.  He didn’t just come to earth in a body, a strong, powerful, imposing and charismatic figure that demanded respect by His very presence.  He came as a baby that demanded no respect, no attention, no accolades, and no praise.

My God does that.  He so often goes one step further than I could have come up with.  I can see the King on His horse, the mighty Warrior Prince riding in to victory.  That I can visualize.  But He took it one step further, He didn’t just come to rescue me, He came to welcome me.  He came to make sure that I felt understood and valued and important and special.  He didn’t want to just come in and wow me, He wanted to woo me too.

It worked.  Who wouldn’t love a God who would leave it all to be near them?  Who wouldn’t love a man who can do anything He wants, but chooses not to because He loves them?

From the very first cry, He chose humility.  He chose to be demeaned and overlooked, He chose to be helpless and underestimated, He chose to be selfless and humble.  He chose the hard road.  Not so that I could have an easy one, but so that I could have a purposeful one–in the company of a humble King who loves me so.

Blessed are those you choose and bring near to live in your courts!                                                                                          Psalm 65:4

I’ve been overwhelmed the last few days–as Christmas decorations have been hung and sprawled and left half way to their destinations–to consider anew just why we do this.  My family went to see Saving Christmas last week at the movie theater.  I recommend it.  It is very good, but I recommend that all believers support anyone willing to put the Gospel on a big screen.

But the point of the movie is this very question, why do we do this and is it biblical.  Thus my thoughts on why I have a tree in my den and lights on every surface I can get them to hang from.

This is where I’ve landed, where for me it begins this Christmas:  an invitation, a few really.  The point of all this coming to earth business was to make it possible for me to accept His invitations.  Without Him coming, I would be in no position to receive all that He offers.

And to what has He invited me?

Ponder this verse for a minute.  Blessed are those you choose.  He’s doing the choosing, and I’m the one chosen.  Me.  And bring near to live in your courts. I’m being brought to live in His presence, His temple, His palace, His kingdom.  I’ve been invited to dine at the King’s table.  For ever.

You know how some invitations you wish you didn’t get–now you have to think of a decent reason not to go.  Some invitations you accept and then wish you hadn’t because ‘something  better’ came along.  Some invitations you clutch to your chest and jump for joy when you pull them out of the mailbox.  Some events you would move your whole schedule around to make sure you didn’t miss.

We’ve been invited to one of those we shouldn’t be willing to miss and yet the invitation often sits unopened on the foyer table overlooked and undervalued.

Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.                                                                                                               Matthew 11:28

Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name; bring an offering and come into His courts.                                                                              Psalm 96:8

The Spirit and the bride say “Come!” And let him who hears say, “Come!” Whoever is thirsty, let him come.                                                Revelation 22:17

Come, come, come.  Come lay down your cares.  Come be humbled by His greatness.  Come bask in His radiant glory.  Come find your purpose in His perfect plan.  Come find shelter in His wings.  Come rest in His arms.  Come get a glimpse of who you are meant to be. Come. Come.

We are invited this season to join lowly shepherds and mighty kings at the feet of an Almighty God who humbled Himself right down into a dirty trough.  I’m invited.  I’m invited into the private, intimate scene of my Savior’s birth.  I’m invited to draw near to this Creator Child with the perfect plan.  I’m invited into such an honored place.  This scene is precious and tender and priceless and privileged.

And I’ve been invited to come.

Come to Bethlehem and see                                                                                               Him whose birth the angels sing.                                                                                     Come adore on bended knee                                                                                                 Christ the Lord, the newborn king.

What a glorious morning!  I have labored in my heart over a command of the Lord that I did not understand and this morning He sent me clarity.  I have wrestled!  This one little phrase has haunted me, I have written about it, I have pleaded over it, and with such simplicity today He says, this is the gist, this is what I’d like for you to understand about it today.  Our God is a cool, cool Man! Walking with Him is the greatest thrill you can ever have; you need no money, you don’t have to leave home, it requires no tools or expertise, you have it all right here.

What does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.                                                    Micah 6:8

I want to do all that He requires, but what if I don’t understand what He is requiring of me?  What does it mean to act justly?  How do I do that?

The three aren’t meant to be taken apart.  I kept trying to tackle them one at a time, but that wasn’t what He had for me this time around (God’s Word is living and active and may speak a different Word to me here some other time, but this it the skin it’s taking on today.)                                                                                                                                      

There are three parts of you.  The outer circle is the body, the middle is the mind, the inner is the soul.  This simple explanation has so much to offer your life by the way.  You know why it is that some relationships just hit it off right from the start?  You know how sometimes you can really work at a relationship and it just never gains any depth?  It’s all about the circles.  The deeper into you you go, the greater the connectedness.  If you meet someone who shares your core, they click right off the bat, you share that inner circle.  If all you have in common with someone is that outer circle, same gender, nationality, social status, then you aren’t going to gain much depth because there isn’t any.  If you look like someone and you tend to think the way they do, you can build a halfway decent relationship.  But if you want real depth, if you want something that you feel can weave its way all the way through your life, find one that connects with you at the soul level.  In that center is your God-shaped hole.  In that center, you meet with the the Lord and you house His Holy Spirit.

So how does all this answer my perplexing question?  The requirement goes core deep.

To act justly is a governmental word, it connotes ethical living, fairness, justice, getting what one is due, good or bad.  It involves the outer layer.  It puts dictates on the way that we conduct ourselves on the body level.  It says, treat people well, don’t abuse, put skin on that love you profess, control your own actions and conduct.

To love mercy, which would be translated grace in the New Testament, goes a layer deeper.  It says, let it touch the emotion in you, let it permeate to the heart of who you are.  Love and value and dispense grace, cherish and protect it.  Don’t just act, believe, emote, take it beyond what you do to what you are.

Walk humbly with your God.  We find ourselves at the center.  And here at the heart of us we find not a dictator on the throne, not an old man in a rocking chair, but a Husband and Father and Savior and King.  At the heart of this requirement is a relationship.  Our God doesn’t pass out demands and requirements and say good luck.  Just like me this morning, He didn’t leave me to figure it out and hope that I get it right enough times.  The goal of His dispensing justice by grace through His Son was so that we could not walk humbly around Him or near Him or up to Him or even before Him, it was so that we could walk WITH Him.

It’s like a good marriage.  You make decisions together, with one another.  You consider the implications of your decisions on the other.  You live and work and operate and exist together, there are no longer two, you are one.  That’s the plan. As one unit, God and man, you live, you make decisions that touch every layer of you.  And the choices that you make rise to the surface of your circles and find their way into the lives of those around you.

What does God require of you?

God requires that I fully invest in this marriage.  That I trust that He has my best interest at heart.  That I buy in whole hog to the amazing reality that the God of the Universe moved Heaven and Earth because He wants to share life with me. He requires that this faith, this belief, this truth, this knowledge be allowed to shape every circle in me, that it touch every facet of my life and play itself out in every part of who I am.

Do you think Paul knew that his letters would become Scripture, that people would pour over his words so meticulously for thousands of years beyond his own life?  Do you think Peter had any idea that his words would go down in history as the very Words of the Living God?

Peter seemed to know that Paul’s words were powerful, Scripture even.  Did Paul know it? Would he have done anything differently if he had?

If you knew that something that you did today would literally have offshoots that would last for eternity, would it change the way you did that thing?  If you knew that the words you wrote or the actions that you took today would be told of forever, marked in history as profound moments in time, would you do them with zeal?

In the tabernacle in the wilderness, the Lord came upon the finished product with such power that the smoke of His Presence pushed Moses right out of the building. There wasn’t room for them both.  I have a prayer that I pray every time before I speak.  “Drain me of myself, fill me up with You, then make me glass so that all they see is the You in me.”  There is only so much room in each of us.  We all just get our glass-worth.  We fill it up or allow it to be filled with only so much.  For there to be more of God, there must be less of me.

So Christ becomes more important while I become less important.                                                                                                                                  John 3:30

If I do something in this body, it is temporary because it’s maker is temporary.  I cannot produce that which will outlive me by much on the eternal scale.  If God does something, it will last forever because it’s originator lasts forever.  In order for me to do anything that has eternal significance, it has to be done not by me, but by Him.

If I work myself to the bone in service to others and do so apart from the Lord’s will and provision, that service may have great implications, but it will not bear eternal fruit.  If I hand this body over to the sevice of the Lord and He does some of those same things, the ramifications will bear results forever.  If I, like Moses, allow the Lord to push me right out of this tabernacle in which I dwell and fill me up to overflowing with Himself, then He can get to work on that which will truly last.

Did Peter and Paul know the long-lasting ramifications of the things that they were doing?  I think it probably didn’t matter to them if they did.  They were just the instruments , God was the handy man.

I don’t want to be a writer. I want to be a vessel.

I don’t want to be a business man.  I want to be a follower.

I don’t want to be a salesman.  I was to be a delivery boy.

I don’t want to be anything but used.

Drain me of myself.  Fill me up with You. Do that which will last.

What does this mean really?  How does one drain themself?  In order to make room for the King of Kings, I must dethrone the king of me. How do I do that?

1.  Start by asking the Lord what He would like for you to do with your day and your life.

2.  Work to find avenues to do that which He desires, listening intently all the while for His prodding toward one stream or another. (As you wait, work.  If you aren’t sure where the Lord is leading, find somewhere where you see God at work and join in!) And don’t limit your thinking to volunteer organizations or efforts, also look inside your home, your family, your office, the job where you invest so much of yourself already.  Use these familiar areas as opportunities to take what you know and make it what you do–love there, serve there, show grace there, be compassionate there, share the Gospel there, work with excellence there, breathe joy there, exude peace there.

3.  Test and see.  Do things that look like they could be in line with what He desires of you.  Be willing to stop them when the Lord says move on.  Be willing to stick with them when the Lord says keep at it.

4.  Be wide open.  Drop preconceived notions, let your plans, dreams, and schedule fall away if the Lord says He’s looking for something different today.  (Even Paul had plans to serve the Lord in various places and had to refrain when God said that wasn’t His plan.)

5.  Some pieces of you will naturally clear out as you find venues and opportunities to serve the Lord.  Most, however, will need a push.  Be willing to work at it.  Like a long run on a cold morning, force yourself to begin the ‘unpleasant,’ knowing that only by beginning do you get to enjoy the end.

For this we labor and strive, that we have put our hope in the living God who is the Savior of all men.                                                   1 Timothy 4:10

6.  Choose Him again and again.  When you hear Him calling you–or even think you do–answer it every time.  The more quickly you respond, the more clearly you’ll hear the call next time, and the more next times there will be.

With every opportunity to push out our selfish natures, we create opportunities to have the Lord fill those areas with the Holy Spirit.  We empty that glass just a bit, making room for Someone who can do more.  Draining us of ourselves is done one way: slowly and purposefully.  It will not happen by accident and it will not happen overnight.  Let Him push, be willing to bend, be willing to let Him lead, be ready for an adventure of eternal proportions.

Have you ever noticed how the apostles really didn’t talk much about the cross?  The big deal in those days wasn’t necessarily that Christ died for them, it was that He rose for them.  The highlight wasn’t His death, it was His resurrection.

We don’t like death.  Ask the insurance guys.  What makes selling life insurance so difficult is that in order to be willing to buy it, you have to be willing to concede that at some point you will die and need it.

You ought to live holy and godly lives as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming.                                                          2 Peter 3:11-12

Peter, among others, makes it sound as though our vision should be pretty well set on some future occurrence, we should live now in light of that event, and it should be the fuel that moves us and the compass that leads the way.  The New Testament is replete with calls to long for the day, speed its coming, set our hearts and minds on that which is eternal.

How much time do you spend thinking about Heaven?  Have you ever spent any time thinking about the Day of the Lord?

The old guys made it sound like that was the primary topic of conversation in their day.  It isn’t even a conversation in our day.  Preachers rarely preach on it, people next to never sit and compare thoughts of what it will be like, very few daydream of its greatness.  It’s all they could talk about and you can’t get us to give it a thought.  When was the last time you heard a sermon based around the Day of the Lord?  Do you even know what it is or what it entails?

Why is it that something that was so paramount for the early church is almost obsolete today?

Here are a few of the reasons why I believe that I am known to shy away from the topic.  One, the Day of the Lord is usually mentioned in reference to judgment; the judging of nations, and peoples, the punishment of sin by the Righteous Judge.  If we humans don’t like to talk about death, judgment is a close second.  I think most of us prefer the old granddad in the sky passing out gifts version of God over the Holy, Righteous, Reigning Judge one.  I think one reason we don’t think on this time is because it isn’t warm and fuzzy for us and so we’ll ponder more pleasant things.

Two, when we talk about eternity and Heaven, we usually talk about death.  There are two points of interest here.  First, we are fearing the moment of death so profoundly that we’re willing to forgo the greatness of Heaven just to not have to think about it!  C. S. Lewis played this out perfectly in his Narnia portrayal. People were terrified of walking into that barn or whatever it was, but once they got inside they realized it was right where they belonged all along, there was no fear, no turning back, and no desire to.  We spend too much time sick because we’re too afraid that the saving medicine might taste nasty.  And, second, what must this say about what we believe Heaven will be like?  If we let walking through the door scare us away, we must not think very highly of what’s on the other side.

Three, the Day of the Lord isn’t personal, it’s vague and all-encompassing and not just about us.  It’s too broad, not nearly personal enough for us self-absorbed types.  It encompasses the judgment and reconciliation of all–people, creation, nations, all.  We like things that center on the ‘me’ part.  And the only ‘me’ part in this scenario is my own death, the only part of ‘me’ that we don’t want to talk about.

The first generation followers of Christ had the faith to withstand so much more than we’ve ever even witnessed, much less been subjected to.  They invested their whole lives in a new, better, counter cultural way that literally got them killed. Where did they get the resolve to live like that?  They kept their focus trained on eternity.  It didn’t scare them or bore them or fall under their rugs, it held center stage–because it was the fuel that kept them faithful, the goal for which they continuously strove.  It was an end so grand that no other topic could ever be stimulating enough to beat.

What does Heaven look like to you?  What will be so amazing about the Day that the Lord returns in judgment and power to claim that which has been His all along?  What will it mean to you to see your Savior riding in to save the eternal day?  When all creation is redeemed, will we be able to actually hear the rocks cry out?  When the Messiah returns in all His glory will this body be able to contain the beating of my heart?  Will my soul be able to contain the pride I’ll feel in knowing that this is my God, my King, my Savior, my Father, and my Friend?  Is there anything my heart could ponder more wonderful than this?