The other day I was reading through John 4 about Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well, and I saw such an intricate plan of God revealed in their conversations. First I noticed how Jesus gently engages with her, asking for a drink, and how He entices her with a riddle to prick her mind–”Sir, you have nothing to draw with…where do you get that living water?” He draws her in closer, explaining how wonderful this water is and how there is hope and life in it. She leans into His words.

But then He mentions the issue about her husband, or rather, husbands, and she goes into all kinds of diversions, hoping to avoid the true issue in her heart. She is living in denial, trying to ignore the giant love deficit in her life. It is extremely painful for her to look into her heart and really see what is there, yet Jesus’ mercy and kindness is so pure, she ventures in. He slowly exposes her, all the while tenderly showing His love, even in the midst of the ugliness–but truth–of her past. His compassion finally gets to the core of her being as she uncaringly leaves her water jar at the well and runs back into town.

In this story, the Lord draws this Samaritan woman to Himself and she feels true, unconditional love probably for the first time in her life. Her sins were uncovered, yet she felt a blanket of love around her. This great love gave her the courage to unmask herself to the point that she even tells others about Him, and how He can make them also feel such freedom.

This is such a wonderful example of how the Lord draws us. There are many times when I sense the Lord probing me. Sometimes I am in denial about issues in my life and I’m trying to avoid dealing with them. I don’t like feeling the pain so I stuff them into a corner of my heart with a “Do Not Disturb” sign over them daring anyone to bring up the matter.

But God is faithful to gently draw me to Himself, even as He did this woman. He unveils and exposes me, not to ridicule and shame me, but to cleanse me and heal me.

May we all be attentive to His drawing this week.

“All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone”–Blaise Pascal

Most of us are not in touch with our feelings. Think about it. When traffic is horrendous, the line at the bank is slow and long, or our kids forget to do their chores, do we ever stop to think about how we are feeling right then and why? Sometimes we are quick to blame things on the devil or engage in spiritual warfare, grabbing for our swords to fight rather than sitting in a chair to contemplate.

Richard Foster, in The Celebration of Discipline says, “The desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent people, or gifted people, but for deep people.” Jesus felt very deeply about things, as did King David, who so well expressed this in his psalms. If we are to be emotionally healthy disciples, expressed images of the living God, then we need to learn to be reflective, looking deep into our hearts and souls.

In The Emotionally Healthy Church, Peter Scazzero states this well:
“It takes courage to ask myself what I am really feeling in a situation. Especially when it is what we usually label a negative emotion such as anger, shame, bitterness, hate, grief, jealousy, fear, or depression. Many would try to deny these rather than listen to their God-given emotions. This involves taking my feelings and thoughts about why I am feeling this way and bringing them honestly to God.”

Honesty before God requires a vulnerability that many of us are not willing to experience–it is much easier to live in surfacy religious jargon. When Ps.46:10 tells us to “be still and know” that He is God, this is a withdrawing, a sinking down, a quieting of ourselves to listen and firmly feel what is going on. It is a position of intimacy. It is a place where deep can call to deep, but it is a choice. Are we willing to open up, be honest with ourselves, and choose it?

“I’ve always felt my dad did not have time for me. He was aloof, never there emotionally. I have even had anger toward God for putting me in the family He did.”

These are common statements I hear in prayer ministry most every day. God made little boys and girls to “feel” loved by their fathers and mothers, but sometimes they don’t. When a person can get honest about these feelings they have often carried for many years, amazing things happen.

When there is anger, people forgive as the reasons for holding the anger are resolved. However, something much deeper than that occurs. In most cases, the person feels like something was wrong with them to begin with and that’s why dad would not spend time, show affection, or even worse, be abusive. When a person can get to the place of seeing and acknowledging the shame they’ve carried, God speaks His love and washes the shame away. Here the miracle happens.

At this point the person feels compassion toward their dads (or moms). They see it wasn’t about them after all, dad had his own issues. However, better than that, the person now can receive at a heart level, the love God has for them. They move from mental assent to living connected with God’s love and it changes them.

If we could see this sweep the Body of Christ, moving her away from shame, fear, and control issues to a love that is welcoming toward all, the world would become a different place. Servant leadership, inclusive love, and a leaving behind of all the legitimacy crutches people use, would make it safe for the prodigals to come home and all manner of pre-Christians to come into the family of God.

Do you ever feel like you have to live up to expectations that seem higher than you can fulfill? Do you live with pressure from others to perform to perfection, and if you don’t, you’re not accepted? Many of us live in daily stress, hoping to gain acceptance from what we do or don’t do.

Acceptance can come in many forms. It can be a promotion or an increase in pay at our job, a pat on the back from our coach, the words “Nice work!” written on the top of a page from a teacher, or a loving glance from our spouse.Whatever it might be, and from whomever it may come, each of us have a God-given need for acceptance. Unfortunately, the world teaches us we have to do something to get it. And not just do something, but do it right. That’s it—it’s either black or white, right or wrong—no points for trying.

My father used to have a saying: “Don’t tell me you can’t, tell me you’ll try.” I think he realized there were many things in life that seem like insurmountable obstacles, and just because you can’t get it right the first time, doesn’t mean you don’t get points for trying. History records multiple accounts of those who didn’t succeed the first time—Abraham Lincoln, Babe Ruth, Thomas Edison. Sometimes we will strike out many times before we will set any world records, but that doesn’t mean we should give up. We can learn from our failed attempts.

God accepts us whether we get things right or not. Oh, I believe He wants us to try—-(see James 1:3 & 1 Peter 1:7) -–and the “points” we get for trying are scored by our growth and maturity in the Lord. We have some high standards put before us, like the Ten Commandments, that seem higher than we can fulfill, but these have nothing to do with how much Father God loves and accepts us.

Our acceptance is not based on our performance, but on His love. 1 John 4:19 says, “He first loved us.” We are His children and He loves us simply because of who we are, not for what we do. But this doesn’t mean we should stop trying, but only try from the safety of knowing you are already loved and accepted just the way you are.

How about this scenario: You and a friend are meeting for lunch. You’ve been thinking about sharing the gospel with him for quite some time. The two of you are sitting at the local sub shop, patrons are noisily chatting at nearby tables, and the smell of deli meats and cheeses permeate the air.  You fidget with the words in your mind, nervously take a tract out of your pocket, place it on the table next to the half-eaten pickle on his plate and say, “Accept Jesus, or you will go to hell.”

No one has ever threatened me to do something wonderful. If we were going to Disney World, my parents didn’t have to force me to get into the car. Usually the threat of punishment was used to manipulate me to endure an unpleasant experience, not a good one. So why should we threaten people with hell if what we’re offering them is so great?

What if the gospel was presented more as a surrender to love, rather than a fear of hell? How can we ever grow in intimacy—between us and the Lord, or any other person—if the beginning of our relationship is based in fear?

Are you happy? If so, are you showing it? What is happiness based on anyway? It could be wealth, health, family, or a job—to name a few things. Happiness can be determined by how nice a vacation you had, or what size house you have. Maybe your son or daughter getting accepted in a specific college would make you happy. Maybe driving a nicer car or having a brand new flat-screen TV would boost your happiness level up a notch. But does your happiness have to depend on external things?

I remember one day, several years ago, when we were living in the Dominican Republic. I was at the kitchen sink bleaching out fresh lettuce, rinsing it for the third time, looking around at my unfinished cabinets with no doors, through the iron bars in the windows at the clothes hanging on the line outside. Day-to-day life took a lot more work down here, I’d thought. Dust constantly blew in through the open windows of the house, the electricity would randomly go off—we never knew when or for how long. Our groceries had to be bought at the market in town, where you would weave in and out of about four city-blocks worth of little stalls, and I was homeschooling my son. Oh, and there was all the ministry things to do too. But that day, standing in my bleach-stained T-shirt and incomplete kitchen, an overwhelming sense of happiness came over me. I was living with less “things,” making less money, but truly satisfied with my life.

Now, we live back in the states and I try to remind myself of that particular day, especially when I start feeling unhappy and dissatisfied. I remind myself that happiness can come from very simple things. It can come from reading a book, listening to rain, or taking a walk. It can come from watching my son play soccer, fluffing up my cat, or singing songs at church. Laughter, gratitude, friends, family—all these things make me happy.

So what makes you happy? I mean, really happy. That deep down in your core happy. I encourage you to find out. It may be something simple like enjoying time with your family, lying under the stars at night, watching a sunset with your spouse, or having lunch with an old friend. We can choose to be grateful for the things we do have, and not focus on what we don’t.

God has given us a free will to choose and make decisions for ourselves. We can make a choice to be happy and grateful, even when the entire world around us is down and depressed. Being thankful is a choice. If you’re happy and you know it, show it. Happiness can be contagious—catch it and spread it around.

Is anyone following you? No, I’m not referring to Twitter, I’m referring to the way you live and conduct your affairs. Are there people that look to you as an example of what a Christian should be?

The other day I read the verse 1 Corinthians 11:1-”Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.” As I thought about these words of the apostle Paul, the weightiness of what he said deeply convicted me. Could I say this to others? Do I feel like my life is in the spiritual position it should be, to tell others that they ought to copy me in all that I do and say? Am I honestly trying to live as an imitator of Christ-being a life-giving source flowing with purity and holiness-daily? This was a sobering thought.

I know Paul was not a perfect man, only Jesus was, but he obviously felt clear enough in his conscience that his lifestyle was exemplary. Those of us who are parents have some idea of what it’s like to see your son or daughter mimic your words or actions. This can be very rewarding or very humbling, depending on the incident-especially if done or said in public. We were their examples and they followed us.

So does this verse imply that we must be outwardly constrained at all times, religiously following what we’ve been told is righteous if we are to represent Christ? I don’t believe so. But I do believe it means we are to live with inward constraint and personal responsibility to the truths we know. Jesus told us that we are to live in this world, but not be of it.  Is there anything separating me, as a Christian, apart from the non-Christians around me, or do I appear just like them? Are my inward beliefs affecting my outward life? Why would anyone want to follow me anyway; what do I have that they would want?

Well, I’m going to conclude this article now, since the Lord has pinpointed enough work that needs to be done in me before I can say much more. Someday I hope to be as confident as Paul was, to tell others to imitate me as I follow the Lord. If only it were as simple as clicking a tab on Twitter-like social networking without all the personal responsibility and commitment. Hmm…I bet Paul would have had some interesting words to tweet about that.

Crossing boundaries is like coloring outside the lines in a coloring book. The lines are what make the picture—they define it, express it, they reveal what it is supposed to look like. They help us learn to improve our coloring skills by giving us a framework to function within. Children scribble-scrabble with their crayons. Coloring books help them learn small motor skills, to control hand movements and train them to do what they desire. As youngsters mature, instead of haphazard strokes on a page, mindful and purposeful marks and colors are chosen to create a picture in the way they wish to express it.

Boundaries have a purpose in our lives; they define our picture, who we are. My boundaries, like the coloring book page, are a picture of what I will or will not do.  When someone tries to get me to do something I don’t want to, and they begin to push me, they have crossed my boundary. As I see it, they colored outside the line—my line. This might take the form of a spouse using the silent treatment, or someone using anger to manipulate or control me into doing something I have already said no to. If I am talking with someone and indicate I need to go, and they continue to draw me into conversation, they are coloring across my line.

Many times those who do not respect boundaries and scribble-scrabble over others are struggling with insecurity and fears of being rejected. They are still learning the “small motor skills” of self-control. Part of growing in our spiritual walk is understanding how to honor one another’s rights, choices, and feelings rather than randomly coloring all over the page. We also need the maturity to set loving boundaries with others in a way that still values them. By doing this, it helps us all mature and learn to color within the lines, freely expressing ourselves, yet respecting everyone else’s picture.

I was reading in the book of Numbers, this week, about the story of the twelve spies who went in to check out the Promised Land. This land was a place that God had said the Israelites would live after they had left Egypt. They would drive the inhabitants out, take over, divide the land between the families, and establish themselves homes. The twelve spies were sent to see exactly what was in the land and who they were up against.

To condense the account, out of the twelve men who observed the land, ten of them came back with negative reports. All they could talk about was how huge the people were and how they, the Israelites, would never be able to win a war with those giants and take their lands. The ten reported there were good fruits and farmlands, but in an, “oh, by the way” manner, still conceding there would be no way to oust the inhabitants to get the benefits.

The other two men, Joshua and Caleb, were optimistic. They brought back glowing reports of how awesome the land was—how sweet the fruits were and how rich the soil was for crops.  They concurred that there were giants living there, but because God had given the land to the Israelites, even promised it to them, they could easily remove these beastly people.

What a difference in perception from these two groups. The first focused on the “now,” the second on the “not yet.” The now’s view included huge challenges to overcome and overwhelmingly impossible obstacles to face, but the not yet perceived a successful future of peace and prosperity.

How do we perceive our circumstances? Do we notice only the negatives, the insurmountable odds against us, or do we look beyond those hindrances and see what could be? It’s true we have to live in the now on a daily basis, but let’s put our faith in God, like Joshua and Caleb did, and believe for something better—the not yet.

I love maps. I really do—especially world maps. What I like about them is being able to see the big picture, the entire world at one time, and how things relate to one another. On a map, I can look and see how far away Cuba is fromFlorida. I can look at Colorado and see how far away the Rocky Mountains are from the Smokey Mountains. Robert was just in India last week, and I can determine from a map that he was totally on the opposite side of the world from me. Maps help me put things in perspective as to where I am.

There are times when I wish I could see the map of my whole life, from beginning to end, pinned up on a wall, but I can’t. However, I do know Someone who can—Father God. He knows all about me, when I was born and when I will die; everything that has happened in the past, and all that will happen in the future.  As the song goes, “He’s got the whole world in His hands,” and since I’m on that world, I’m in His hands.

God knows every little thing about me. For some people, this causes fear, as if He’s a “big brother” surveillance camera, waiting to catch them doing something wrong. For me it brings peace. It causes me to be at rest knowing that this world is not just some freak happenstance, and my life isn’t some chaotic randomness of time and events. No, I believe God has a map of my existence, where He can guide and direct me daily. He knows where I am in relation to everything around me, and He has a plan. Jeremiah 29:11—“I know the plans that I have for you, declares the Lord. They are plans for peace and not disaster; plans to give you a future filled with hope.” Now that’s a good perspective. I really love maps.