Elisabeth Adams

heartache

Today a bomb exploded in my city.

A friend called from across town: Did we know, she asked, that a bus had blown up? I had no idea. For twenty minutes, I had been going about my business, curled up on the couch with my laptop, arranging mundane details and completely unaware of the suffering unfolding on a familiar street corner.

I stopped. Prayed. Someone popped up on my computer screen, wondering: Is anyone you know at that bus stop? No, thank God.

I spent the rest of the afternoon talking to friends worldwide: Did you hear? Will you pray? And praying for small heartaches they mentioned as well. (Is any heartache small?) I spent the rest of the afternoon with a sense of unreality. Can this really be happening? And a touch of guilt. How can I act so normal? (I hardly noticed the fact that rockets were landing a couple hours’ drive away, or bombs on the next continent over).

Of course, this latest tragedy in Israel is just another drop in an ocean of sufferings, pounding the world with wave after wave now coming in such quick succession that if you keep an eye on the news, you’ve hardly got time left to breathe. Earthquakes, uprisings, wars, massacres, bombings. Leaders falling and others rising. Possible nuclear meltdowns. Just struggling to believe that all this could happen in my lifetime, let alone in the space of a few months, is really taxing my credulity.

So what’s the point?

God is not staggered. He’s not confused. He’s not willing that any should perish.

Things like this were happening in Jesus’ day, natural and human-initiated disasters alike. Anxious folks pondered the why behind a Roman massacre and the tragic deaths of 18 who were crushed by a falling tower. Jesus said, “Were they worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem?” No. We’re all overtaken by sin, all headed for death — all pursued by God for eternal life.

I see flashes of grace in today. The desperately needed rain that fell this morning, leaving everything sparkling in the sun. And this afternoon: The alert snack-seller, who recognized the bomb before it went off, and began sending people away from the area. The paramedics already gathered within hearing, discussing aid for Japan. They immediately ran to help.

I have no idea what God is doing for individuals in the other stricken countries. But I know He is there, just as He is here.

God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear
though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

“Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!”

Elisabeth

March 23, 2011

Life in the Land

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new

In God’s economy, often what is new starts out hidden: a seed in the ground, a child in the womb, a change in the heart. Some of His greatest gifts to us seem to arrive in an almost offhand manner, slipping into our lives without fanfare.

As humans, we’re often taken with the boldly, lavishly novel items: a new hair color, a new diet, a new car, a raise, a promotion, a change in relationship status. We’re inundated with products that are New! and Improved! as if the two were always synonymous. Of course many new things truly are gifts straight from God, but isn’t it easy to miss the quieter things He’s up to?

As I begin this new year with a new job and a new location (and yes, a website that’s just a little new and improved), I find myself most impressed with the small and quiet things God is doing in my heart. I’ve got some new prayers bubbling up in there. And a small thought that slipped in offhand, and stayed there, growing.

If there’s anything new I long for, it’s a change in my heart and habits. If there’s anything that humbles me, it’s the daily struggle to redeem the time I so often waste. But a simple analogy, God-given, is slowly changing my perspective — and, I trust, my heart.

Imagine a jar, and a pile of rocks, all sizes, which somehow must fit inside. This is my life, and the things that are clamoring for my attention. It’s easy to begin by chucking the little ones in haphazardly, one by one. There’s not a lot of risk involved that way, and not a lot of effort, either. But if I get halfway through, who’s to say there will be enough room left for the rest?

I’ve got to add the big rocks first.

Plans and resolutions are good, but they can’t address all the temptations, detours, and curve balls life keeps throwing into the mix. They don’t always tell me what’s big and what’s small in the eyes of God. And trust me, they’re not enough to change my heart.

When Jesus was here on earth, He was surrounded by needs: real human beings with heartaches and pains, literally tugging at His sleeve. I don’t think a conventional company policy or set schedule would have covered the vagaries of life as a traveling teacher in the ancient Middle East. (It’s unpredictable enough today!)

But Jesus had it figured out, just the same: “The Son can do nothing of His own accord, but only what He sees the Father doing.”

A simple pause. A quiet prayer. An exchange of agendas. A heart of obedience. “Lord, what are You up to?”

Who carries on that conversation without background noise? Not me! I’ve got a million thoughts, and they’re all clamoring to be heard: “Lord, I’m too tired! I’m hungry! I’m uninspired. And Lord, what about my finances? What about my family? What about my dreams?” Just like me, Jesus had human needs and desires. He knows how urgent they are, and how painful they can feel.

He knows it all, and He cares.

“Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness,” He says, “and all these things will be added to you.”

Chase Me. And don’t worry. My lovingkindness and mercy will chase you.

Just add the big rocks first.

And He who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.”

But Jesus had it figured out.

Elisabeth

January 20, 2011

Life in the Land, Writing Life

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epiphany

It’s Epiphany today: the feast of the three kings, the three sages, the three very wise men. They arrived late on the scene — some say two years — when Jesus was no longer described as a baby, but a young child; staying not in a stable, but a house. The point is: they showed up. And made much ado about Someone!

It’s the twelfth day of Christmas now, and I’m a little late on the scene, but I’m still thinking about the epiphany.

Just imagine for a moment that you didn’t know that God would visit us, that the Word would become flesh: human enough to leave sandal marks in the mud of backwoods Middle East.

What a God of surprises He was, plotting out the exact day and time and star and stable of His Son’s arrival, dispatching sages and shepherds to greet Him, celebrating through a teenaged girl, an unborn baby, and some obscure senior citizens, announcing the secret to nobodies and leaving kings in the dark.

What a God of the exceedingly abundantly above He is! Far beyond anything we could ever ask or think, far wilder than anything that enters into the hearts of men are the plans He had for us.

He came down.

If there were newspapers in heaven, what might they have said on that night?

Human race surprised by joy!

He’s doing the same today.

Elisabeth

January 6, 2011

Life in the Land, Writing Life

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Fire

It’s Hanukah in Israel right now, and nobody hides their light under a bushel. There are candles everywhere: real ones in windows, in glass boxes by front gates, in shop windows, on store counters; large and electric ones in city squares, at entrances to neighborhoods, on tops of high rise buildings.

There’s also been a huge fire — a wildfire on Mount Carmel — which raged from Thursday afternoon to this evening, and only now — by the great mercy of God — has been brought under control. During an eight-day holiday that’s supposed to be all about miracles (and gifts and sufganiot), it’s been all about numbers: 77 hours unchecked, 12,000 acres charred, 5 million trees gone, 17,000 evacuated, 74 buildings lost, and 41 lives snuffed out.

But were other numbers as well: some 12 nations sending aid, nearly 30 foreign aircraft dousing flames, scores of non-Israeli firefighters joining in the fight — not to mention thousands of prayers, and one faithful Shepherd, who still quiets winds today.

I don’t know what He’s up to, exactly. But here’s what I do know:

Anyone can make good things work out for good, but only our Heavenly Father can bring good out of evil. –Florence Barclay

Elisabeth

December 5, 2010

Life in the Land

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Cross Culture Marriage

Mixed-culture marriage has been a part of my extended family and circle of friends since I was a teenager, normal enough that it never made much of an impression on me — until I visited Jerusalem. Then I couldn’t help noticing! In such an international city, Africa, Europe, the lands Down Under, North and South America, the Far East and the Middle East constantly meet and mingle — and inevitably, fall in love and marry.

Case in point: it was in Jerusalem that I attended a wedding involving an Armenian bagpiper, a Jewish wedding canopy, a blonde bride, and a kilted bridegroom with a New Zealand accent.

Seriously.

Of course, all this kaleidoscopic variety made me intensely curious. What is mixed-culture marriage like, from the inside? How does it work? Does it work, period? And what role (if any) does our common faith play in uniting partners from opposite sides of the world?

Thankfully, I had friends who were willing to answer my questions. Not surprisingly, cross-cultural marriage looks different from couple to couple, but still, their stories have a common theme: It’s the cross that matters when cultures meet.

PS Whether or not you’ve read the article, feel free to hop on over to the extended version of Lawrance and Amanda’s delightful story, which begins here.

Elisabeth

October 20, 2010

Boundless

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Treasure

Biblical Hebrew is such a compact, yet jam-packed language. Getting into it is like opening a zip file, or unpacking a wrapped gift: there’s so much more hidden under the surface. Thankfully, even though I’m not a serious Hebrew scholar, I can still get in on some of those riches. Some of my happiest visits to God’s word take place through the very simple medium of e-sword. I’ve only downloaded a few of the many bells and whistles it offers: my favorite feature is probably the KJV+ which allows me to read the Bible, and hover my cursor over any word to read the Greek or Hebrew definition.

And suddenly, even those tedious name- lists come alive.

Some lists tell a story. Noting the sons of Asaph the musician — Mindful, May He add, God-given, and Right towards God — makes me wonder if he prayed specifically for a third child.

Other lists of names shout out the Gospel in the Old Testament. The LORD, they tell us, is judge — and escape. He knows. He is Father and Keeper and Deliverer. He possesses, supports, and heals. He is willing and generous; He is gracious and kind. He is our neighbor. He is fame itself. He is blessing. He is perfect, He is high, and He has prevailed.

Unpacking the language this way means that teaching become more practical and specific: When I’m enjoined to be hospitable, I learn that it means a genuine fondness for guests, love for someone who is outside my circle.

And when I turn to something as familiar as Psalm 23, well, here’s what I find:

Certainly
merry, bountiful goodness
and merciful lovingkindness
will chase after me
each and every day of my life.

Elisabeth

August 17, 2010

Writing Life

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Reprove Me

A good critic is like solid gold.

As a writer, it’s not often I find someone who has the enthusiasm, the know-how, and the concentrated attention necessary to give me the feedback so essential to successful written communication. Bottom line: I cannot succeed on my own. Like my friend Clyde said when I interviewed him for this article, a blind spot means I can’t see it! Someone else has to tell me that it is there.

Reproof. Who loves it? Mostly, it’s a word to send shivers down your back. It can be a terrifying prospect to lay yourself wide open to comment. But it can also be a great benefit, a great joy, and a great relief. (Ah, so that’s what I can change to make this work!)

I wrote this article because I felt like somebody needed to stick up for criticism. It was like a challenging but good friend whom everybody says bad things about…without ever getting to know what he’s really like.

Honestly? I’m still not always a fan of reproof.

But in recent years, I’ve been discovering that God loves to give me praise. In fact, He promises that a woman who fears Him will be praised. I never know how or through whom He’ll do it next! I just know that He’s endlessly creative and utterly faithful in carrying it out. And it’s this assurance, I think, that makes me able to hear, accept, and actually love His reproof.

Elisabeth

June 30, 2010

Boundless

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Six Impossible Things

Okay, I’ll admit it: I’m pretty sure I didn’t pick up this quote from its original source, but from a rollicking British novel by Elizabeth Cadell. But however it got there, it lodged in my mind and surfaced several years later as a rather whimsical reminder to enlarge my faith.

It sounds so bold and spiritual, this practicing audacious prayer. But uncomfortably often, the impossible things that face me are not of my choosing.

That’s when I’m forced to pray about troubles: my own and others’. Sometimes I’m just anxious, but sometimes I’m anxious for a good reason! Whether I’m reading an urgent email, or talking with a friend, or just jammed in by one of life’s sticky situations, I know anxiety is my call to pray – now.

Fumblingly, quietly, I believe — and He helps my unbelief.

“Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me?”

“Ah, Lord GOD! It is you who have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and by your outstretched arm! Nothing is too hard for you.”

Elisabeth

June 4, 2010

Boundless

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Excuses

I’m tired of making excuses for God.

Am I the only one who does this? I hate bad-mouthing anybody — least of all my Good Shepherd. And so I find myself saying the equivalent of this:

God’s a nice guy. He means well; He just hasn’t come through for me yet.

That’s ridiculous: it’s unsatisfying to me, and it’s belittling to my King.

I realize that there are passages in the Bible where people “justify God.” But that’s more than excusing Him — it’s showing God to be in the right in all that He does.

In other words, He not only means well; He is doing well — today! If I were to see what God sees about my life right now, I’d unable to contain myself with joy. I’d be waving my arms and jumping up and down. I’d be…I don’t know. Singing? Shouting? Dancing? All that and more.

Well then.

Since that is the case (and there’s nothing surer in this universe), I want to have more spunky trust, more robust faith — something that rises up in my heart and says:

My God is good! Period. Sure, some of His actions are puzzling to me, but He does all.things.well. His purposes are not simply to be endured, but to be praised!

Now that’s my King.

Elisabeth

June 2, 2010

Writing Life

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Impossible on Purpose

It bothered me.

As I began writing “Impossible on Purpose,” I was deeply convinced that God provides. That’s as simple as Jesus’ prayer for our daily bread on one hand, and my own experience on the other. Yes, He provides; yes, He transforms; yes, He gets His children out of tight spots. These things crop up all over the Bible.

But I wasn’t so sure of my main theme. To launch out into the frankly impossible — and perhaps even foolhardy — on purpose? Certainly it worked for all two thousand orphans in George Muller’s care. But could I honestly say it was a Biblical principle?

It kept nagging at me.

I kept writing.

And I kept praying for baby Isaiah: when his mother’s water broke so early; when he was born so very tiny; and when it was time for him to go home to Jesus.

In the end, the conclusion of his story shaped the end of my article. I was challenged by the magnitude of his parents’ faith in such a terrifying situation, and awed by the worship Isaiah’s life generated in so many. It was at his memorial reception, as I was explaining this article to a friend, that I realized the solution to my dilemma.

What could be more impossible than Peter’s stroll on the (very stormy) surface of the Sea of Galilee? Not only that, but he initiated the adventure.

I’m beginning to wonder: does Jesus ever wait for me to do something? Does He get excited, perhaps, when I’m just audacious enough to think He can do miracles through me?

Here’s what I do know: Peter had a wild idea. He checked his idea with Jesus. And when Jesus called him to do it, he went.

Hmm.

As long as I’ve got my eyes on Him, I’ll be safe.

Elisabeth

May 14, 2010

Boundless

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