Karen Rabbitt

Face to Face

The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: “Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.” And he went outside and wept bitterly.  Luke 22:61 (NIV)

What sort of look did Jesus give Peter when he heard Peter’s third denial? The answer we instinctively give to that question tells us a lot about our view of Jesus. Was Jesus’ brow knit above hard eyes? Was his intention punishment?

Was his mouth turned down? Was he shaking his head? Did Jesus mean to let Peter know just how disappointed he was in him?

I doubt he was either angry or sad. I think his eyes were soft, his face relaxed. Jesus had previously told Peter the truth about himself: “You will deny me.” Now, I think Jesus was both calling Peter to account and pouring forth his compassion.

Peter didn’t know his own weakness. Jesus knew. Peter’s denials were no surprise to Jesus. But it looks like they were a surprise to Peter, himself. The text gives the impression that Peter hadn’t quite realized what he’d done until Jesus looked at him.

And isn’t that how it is with us? Only when we get face to face with Jesus do we see our sin clearly. We can go blithely through our day, reacting to the people around us, not thinking much about eternal realities. And then God breaks in and we suddenly see what Jesus sees. We see the tired Walgreen’s clerk through Jesus’ compassionate eyes. We see our toddler’s frustration as a cry for attention rather than an intentional interruption to our reading. We see in our own hearts all the subtle ways we deny Jesus’ reality—in our small faith, our weak hope, our cold love.

Oh, Lord Jesus, may we once again, come face to face with you—your clear-sightedness and your compassion.

Wanting What We Don’t Want

In a March, 2001 quote, Christian philosopher Dallas Willard says, “One of the hardest points to get past in spiritual formation is that in order for me to be spiritually transformed, I have to want to not want what I now want.”

I thought of this yesterday when I realized that a part of me thinks it’s okay not to lose the three pounds I gained on our March vacation. I thought I was all in agreement about losing. If I don’t eliminate them now, I’ll gain three more when I go help my daughter with the birth of our first grandchild in June. Not until yesterday morning, when I stopped and thought more seriously why my efforts over the last few weeks haven’t been working, did I notice her hidden in the corner.

Lifting her nose, she said:  “My clothes still fit, my lipid panel numbers are okay, what’s the problem here?”

I pulled her out into the light: “Oh, no you don’t. If I don’t lose these pounds now, I’ll gain more in June. I won’t be so mindful of my eating then. I am not going there.” 

Sometimes, even as Christians, we fully want to disobey in a particular area. But aren’t we usually of two minds? Part of us wants to do the right thing; part of us wants what it wants and doesn’t want to change. Part of us wants to read the Bible, the other part says, “Oh, what’s the use?” Part of us wants to tithe, the other says, “I need that money myself.” One part says, “Don’t even look,” while another part says, “Just one glance at that X-rated site won’t hurt.”

With renewed prayer, I managed to reduce my portions yesterday. By grace, I’ll do it again today. Jesus is Prince of Peace. He is the one who exposes and settles our conflicts. Only he gives power to change our wants.

Lord, we come to you, just as we are, conflicts and all. Please grow our internal peace and unity.

Unshakeable

Twenty to five in the morning, April 18, I was awakened from sleep by the shaking of my bed. Wind? No. Earthquake. Nothing else shakes a bed inside a house. Just as I wondered if I should climb under the bed in case the ceiling fan fell, the jarring stopped. I jumped up to see if my husband, in his bedroom, felt it. We grabbed each other in the living room.

“Did you feel that?” I said. 

“Oh, yeah. That was a big one. Turn on the radio, let’s see where the center was.” For central Illinois, it was big. Centered 150 miles south, it was 5.2 on the scale.

In Reno, USA Today reported yesterday, “Residents here are being shaken, literally, by an ongoing series of earthquakes, which experts warn could be a precursor to a major seismic event.” Sandy Jung, formerly a California resident, says, she’s used to the ground shaking, but not “swarms of them. Not day after day after day.” Unsettling, scary, irritating at best.

And many of us are enduring financial earthquakes. Foreclosures. Job loss. Food and gas prices.

It is time to cling even more tightly to the unshakeable kingdom. The writer to the Hebrews says, “ ‘Once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.’ The words ‘once more’ indicate the removing of what can be shaken—that is, created things—so that what cannot be shaken may remain. Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our ‘God is a consuming fire.’”  Hebrews 12:26-29 NIV 

To cling to the Creator-King does not mean our worst fears won’t come true. It means, even if they do, the God who is with us will carry us through. Jesus’ grip is unshakeable. 

Father, Jesus, Spirit, we worship you. We cling to you. You are our hope, our faith, and our life.

Flying High

As we approached downtown on our morning walk, a Canadian goose landed on the top of the courthouse tower. 

“There’s a goose that’s been hanging out with pigeons,” I said to my husband. We watched it fly away as we entered the parking deck where he works. 

He smiled. “There’s your devotional for the day.” 

“Yeah, if the ones you hang with fly high, you will too.” I kissed him and continued on my morning exercise. 

Like the goose, who has the wings to lift himself to that high perch, we have the ability to reach the pinnacle of God’s plan for us. Having never seen a goose perched on the tip of the tower, I’m guessing he’s seen pigeons on that roof. We, too, have the ability to soar, but we need to hang with those who model the behavior for us. We need the vision that others provide. 

If we parent, we want to learn from patient, wise parents. If we are meant to teach, we’ll want to observe how master teachers teach. If we sense a call to evangelism, we’ll study the lives of those who’ve led many people into relationship with Jesus. 

No one soars alone. We need others to teach us, mentor us, and pray for us. Only then can we reach the peak of God’s plan.

Father, please provide those who will show us how to reach for your heights.

Content to be Discontent?

God honors boldness. In Luke 19, when Zacchaeus ran ahead of the crowd following Jesus to climb the sycamore tree, he expected to get a better view, not a better life. But Jesus, seeing his audacity, walked into Zacchaeus’ house and heart. Zacchaeus collected taxes for the Roman occupiers, keeping for himself whatever he could extort beyond the Roman levy. Like a Frenchman collaborating with the Nazis during WWII, he was ostracized. Jesus’ closeness convicted Zacchaeus of his separation from the community. He vowed to make restitution, thus opening the way to restoration. 

Zacchaeus was bold because he was discontent. He wanted something he could not get without a risky move. Are we discontent? Are we content to be discontent? Do we tolerate an unsatisfying job for fear of change? Do we go through the motions of Christianity without giving our hearts? Are we happy enough in our ministry? Is there a place where we want to see God’s power? How can we let our discontent move from crowd-following to risky faith? 

Makes me nervous just thinking about climbing a tree, alone, exposed. But if that boldness is what it takes for Jesus to come close… 

Father, send your bold Holy Spirit into our hearts, right now. Whatever boldness we exert comes from you.  

To See as He Sees

Indeed there are those who are last who will be first, and first who will be last.” Luke 13:30  NIV

Her eyes are dull, her mouth turns down, and her step is slow. She’s over fifty and she weighs over two hundred pounds. “Kathy” is a church acquaintance from a congregation we attended thirty years ago. By any American standard, greeting customers at Mejiers, she’s one of the “last.” Leaving the store on Monday, I smiled a greeting.

“Karen, George had open-heart surgery four weeks ago.” George was her husband, so overweight the last time I’d seen him that he was using an electric scooter.

 I stopped and turned toward her. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is he recovering okay?”

“He’s diabetic, so healing has been slow, but God has been with us.”

 As she went on to describe their ordeal, I took an internal deep breath and consciously focused on her words.

 As I listened, watching her face, a completely different image flashed through my mind. I saw her leading a line of worshippers, twirling a red silk flag, stepping high, eyes flashing in joy and wonder.

 After a few minutes she said, “Well, I’d better let you go.” As I walked away, I thought, I’ve just seen her through God’s eyes. To him, she is a precious, delightful worshipper, first in line. God doesn’t conceal impatience in her presence. He rejoices over her heart. He looks forward to the consummation of her life in the fully realized Kingdom. 

Father, we need your eyes to see each other as you see us.

Oops!

Oops! I forgot to write a devotional yesterday. I’m taking that as a sign. I need a break. So, watch for a new devotional in a month.

In the meantime, maybe you’d like to read some of my earlier ones. www.karenrabbitt.typepad.com contains more than 100 devotionals, written since February of ’06. And here’s a photo for all of us who are waiting for the energy that spring gives.

Speak Scripture

…so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. Isaiah 55:11 NIV 

 

God’s word has power in it to accomplish God’s purposes.   

He will accomplish his purpose of making us into the image of Jesus. We can cooperate with him by proclaiming his word—to  ourselves. In my years of slogging through a deep emotional morass, these are the scriptures, spoken aloud, that carried me through: 

The LORD is my light and my salvation— whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid? Psalm 27:1 NIV 

He will be the sure foundation for your (my) times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the LORD is the key to this treasure. Isaiah 33:6 NIV 

 The eternal God is your (my) refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. Deuteronomy 33:27 NIV 

 Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, Romans 8:1 NIV 

…being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you (me) will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:6 NIV 

 To the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us (me) accepted in the beloved. Ephesians 1:6 KJV

For God hath not given us (me) the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7 KJV

Unforeclosable House

“As we were praying, I got an image of a house of forgiveness,” I said to the small group, sitting on comfortable chairs at the leader’s house. After discussing the nature of sin, we’d finished small group with a brief prayer time. As we had explored some of the ways we miss God’s mark, a couple of people had questioned God’s forgiveness. Smiling, I continued, “It is a house God has provided for us. We can eat and sleep and rest in it, almost with a sense of taking it for granted.”

The leader looked thoughtful. “Good image.” We left then, gathering our coats against the cold night.    

Later, snuggling under my down comforter, I thought, “taking for granted” isn’t quite the right phrase, but it’s close. Forgiveness is the house a Christian lives in. When we turn toward him, away from sin, Jesus gives us the keys to the house he’s purchased for us. We can count on its solidity. 

It’s a slate-roofed brick house with a poured cement foundation that extends beyond the frost line. Overstuffed recliners hold us. The winds of guilt and fear may rattle the windows, but they will not blow the house down. Within these walls, we are safe.    

In addition, we needn’t fear foreclosure. Some, though, with oversensitive hearts, may wander the streets, thinking they’ve been forced out. Sounds silly, doesn’t it? How does a house without a mortgage get put in foreclosure? And yet, some of us easily believe God to be mad at us, even foreclosing on a house he’s already paid for.    

Father, Son, Spirit. Again, we thank you for your precious blood-bought forgiveness. Without forgetting that price, may we relax in its shelter.

 

 

Pure Motives?

The other day my husband told me about a man who traded in his hybrid Honda Civic for a Prius, the Toyota hybrid. The Civic looked too much like a traditional car and he wanted the attention the Prius drew. In some quarters of American society, there’s a new kind of “green conspicuous consumption.” We brag about our gas mileage, we buy carbon offsets for our plane trips, and we are snapping up books on how to build and buy “green.” Do we really care about the poisoning of the earth or do we want the attention we get for going green? Hard to tell. The fellow who traded cars because he wanted the attention makes me wonder. Could be that he just wanted the opportunity to spread the gospel of green.

Someone once said a freeing thing to me: “No one has pure motives.” I’d been moaning to him that I’d wanted attention; that’s why I’d given a communion meditation in service that day. The thought was freeing because, like all perfectionism, purity was unobtainable. I could confess my impurity and ask God to purify my motivation, certainly, but I didn’t need to mope around, punishing myself for my mixed motives.

Only God, who has absorbed our guilt into his vast heart, is pure. He is working toward a glorious future that we can all be part of. He acts, not for selfish attention, but for selfless good. Actually, I can hardly imagine that kind of selflessness. I must confess, mostly I just like attention for my own good deeds, green or otherwise. Maybe you understand that. 

Oh, Lord, reorient our hearts, away from attention-seeking, toward your good purposes.