Thursday, November 13, 2008

Snow on the Peak

I watch as he gathers his wintry coat to him,
Gathering it as if from wisps of clouds and vapor and mist.
He weaves it about his head and shoulders left bare to summer suns.

In valleys and rifts he lays the framework,
The warp and weft of his fine coat lain
in the defiles and northern faces of his rugged form.

With a gentle hand he gathers from the stormy clouds of night
his dazzling cloak with which to keep his warmth.
His face will soon be covered by the thick white handiwork
of snow and ice he gathered in the days of fall and mist.

The winter snows will gather
the northwinds wildly blow
But til the spring he'll sit beneath
This cloud he deftly wove.

The mountain mocks my silliness
His silence more profound
than all the words my pen puts down
his majesty profound.

For in this winter dance I find a hint of heaven's face
The mountain shows me majesty that points me further still
It speaks of great and glorious things I cannot comprehend
As if in whispers lightly heard from far, far distant shores.

A picture is the mountain,
A picture in the snow,
A mere reflected glory
seeing heavenly things below.
I cannot see them clearly,
their wonder fully know,
Oh I would know that majesty
reflected in the snow.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

God is still in business

I often think that we, and by we, I mean me, that we look at the Bible as stories--magical stories of things that happened in the past when the world was more adventurous, more dangerous, in a long-distant past. Paul, meeting the Lord in a blinding light; Philip disappearing from the Gaza desert road and the Ethopian eunich, to reappear twenty miles away; healings, casting out demons, prisons bursting open, the Red Sea opened; all these and more read more like a novel. Even though I believe these things actually happened, that an actual flood covered the entire face of the earth and that a remnant were rescued in an ark, even believing that, it seems to be part of a different reality than what I live in.

I am thinking this evening that my faith is too small. Nothing is unsurmountable. No trial, no struggle too big for God. No cancer is too far gone for God too heal, no marriage in too much trouble for his restoration, no sinner too far gone. And I am not too far gone, ever, for him to work in my life. He can still use me and he is still working. He is working in our country, in our church, in our home, in our family, in our neighborhood, in our city, in our world, in our ministries, in our missions. He still calls people. He still gives us instructions, both in his word and personally.

When I am afraid I must remember that God has not changed. He can still move mountains, and he can still change hearts. My own heart which can feel like a lump of granite at times can be melted and molded by him. He is still at work in his church and he has not withdrawn his commission to "go and make disciples". He still asks of us that we be available, that we be ready, that we be willing.

For my part, I need to remember that there is nothing insurmountable with God. Nothing is impossible with him. No circumstance is so dire that he cannot reign over it, change it, dismiss it or walk me through it. No financial situation, no family crisis, no work issue, no disappointment, no church situation, no illness, no anything is beyond his stepping in, showing himself in a remarkable, extraordinary, even a miraculous way. I tend to forget or dismiss his abilities.

He is God. The everlasting, unchanging, all-sufficient, miracle-working God. I can ask him for anything. If it is his will--watch out. Mountains will fall, rivers change course, lives will change, needs will be met, doors will open.