Category Archives: ancients

Lunching with the Ancients

Lunching with the Ancients

For my Tuesday ancients. I’ve written of you before, but today you caught my heart again. I love you all!

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for.” (Hebrew 11:1-2).

 

I ate with the ancients today.

Now before anyone takes offense, you need to know that by my calling them “ancient,” I do so in the spirit of Hebrews 11:2.

Ancient. Presbuteros meaning “elder; of age; the elder of two people; advanced in life; a senior.”[i] And in the context of the scripture, an elder bearing the witness of a life built on the solid foundation of faith.

Yep. Those are my ancients—women seasoned with the grey and the wisdom of walking a long life with Jesus. We are in our fifth year of “doing lunch” on Tuesdays. We began gathering upon my family’s arrival to this community, and rarely have we missed a week in that time.

I seek them out wherever I go. The ancients. I suppose it won’t be long until others might consider me as one of theirs. It is a label I will humbly accept, for to be numbered alongside my ancients of today and the pilgrims in Hebrews 11 is, indeed, an honorable tribute.

The pilgrims that gathered today walk deep. On the surface, we may seem a little shallow, for rare is the occasion void of our laughter. We do our fair share of discussing politics, current events, doctor’s visits, and offering up of ideas on how to “fix” the problems in our church. Mostly, I just listen to their thoughts, and I am glad to do so, for they have stored up a lifetime of memories worthy of my pause.

But underlying all of our chatter, there runs a sacred thread of a well-spun truth that anchors us all to the table and keeps us coming back every Tuesday for more.

Faith, and the certainty of things therein.

For all of the changes that flood their current, there are a few things they would voice as certain. Things like…

This life is full of pain.
This life is full of joy.
This life is but a breath.
This life is not the end.
This life is to be celebrated because…
This life is a gift from God.

I bet that you have lived long enough to voice a few of these certainties as your own. It takes awhile to come to some conclusions in these matters. Our youthful immaturity and need for reasoned parameters often prohibits our clarity.

When pain is our present, it’s hard to reason the joy. When life fades to the certainty of death, it’s difficult to vision beyond the grave. And when celebration goes unnoticed—seemingly forgotten and pushed under because the urgent and desperate blankets the party with wet—well, life unwraps more like a tragedy rather than the sacred wrapping of a gracious God.

Indeed, it takes years of well-worn living to reach some conclusions in this matter called faith. My ancients have lived those years.

Some years have authored sad. Since moving here, three of my friends have buried husbands. One of them has buried a son. All of us have walked to the grave on behalf of loved ones—friends, family and one of our own named Maxine. Many have been escorted to the hospital because their bodies have betrayed them. Surgeries and procedures have been their portion. There are tears and remembrances a plenty that speak the witness of such sadness.

Some years have authored joy. Untold numbers of marriages and babies and graduations and birthdays have passed through their hands in our time together. There have been parties, vacations, and family reunions enough to fill a scrapbook the size of heaven. There are pictures and newspaper clippings that speak the witness of such treasured milestones.

My ancients know about years and about the threading the weaves them together. They know Jesus, and they are wild and wonderful and just on the other side of “crazy enough” to believe that He is the one who holds the needle that sews them ever closer to their eternal home.

They walk toward heaven, not from it. And if they harbor any fear in the matter, they keep it from me. Somehow, they realize that their faith, their hope, and their certainty about the season soon to come are needed commodities in a world that suffers from self-centeredness and short-sighted visioning. They’ve lived long enough to get over their bitter, to live with the unanswerable, and to surrender their need for control.

They simply live by faith, and not by sight. And they would all tell you that this is a really good way to live, considering that their temporal vision seems to fade with the passage of time. They have caught the vision of their forever, and that, my friends, is reason enough to lunch with the ancients every Tuesday.

I need to see, and they need to color the sacred canvas of their witness while the brush is yet strong and the paint is still wet. Like the saints of Hebrews 11, theirs is a portrait worthy of the throne room of heaven, and thus I pray this night with tenderness in my heart,

Thank you, Father, for surrounding my life with the ancients on Tuesdays. They breathe the witness of faith unlike any other women with whom I share my life. You knew I needed them, Lord, and with gratitude I accept their influence in my life. Script my heart with the certainty, hope, and faith in the truth of who You are. They are sure of their tomorrow. Let my life breathe with the same measure. And when we all finally reach our home with You in heaven, it sure would be nice to have a Tuesday table with our names on it. Please tell Maxine that we won’t be long in coming. Amen.

[i] http://studylight.org/desk/view.cgi?number=4245

~elaine

I would love to hear about the “ancients” who surround your life. If you don’t have any, find some! They are a treasure trove waiting to be discovered. Shalom.

Sacred Tuesdays

Sacred Tuesdays

“As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him—you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 2:4-5).

Sacred days. Days set apart as extraordinarily different. Special. Unique and consecrated for purpose. Sabbath days. Twenty-four hours given to God for God’s intended end. Some would call it Sunday, and indeed, Sundays are meant for all things sacred. But there is another day in my week…a Tuesday…that receives the seal of God’s sacred authenticity.

What makes a Tuesday sacred?

Tuesdays are my stone laying days. Days when I stand alongside my sisters in Christ to build a spiritual unity. Days when we lay our precious stones beside and upon one another because our Architect has a plan in mind. A building he’s building. A spiritual house resting on the foundation of his Calvary love and built with the nails of his surrender.

A holy priesthood of believers. A collective unity comprised of unique individualities. Living… breathing…flesh-walking stones. Stones with names. Stones I call friends. Stones who are willing to lay their lives alongside me as a corporate sacrifice to our God.

Sacred Tuesdays began soon after my arrival to this community four years ago.

They began with a group of women called the “lunch bunch.” It was an accidental gathering. A first lunch shared with two of my senior friends at a local café. God stirred our hearts for fellowship on that warm summer day, and rarely has there been a Tuesday when we have neglected that stirring. The lunch bunch has grown to include anywhere from six to twelve women. I pride myself on being the youngest, but I am humbled by their exceedingly great wisdom.

Years of walking with God have taught them much about living life at a sacred level. I glean abundance from their teaching. They don’t impose it upon me. They simply live it. And through our laughter and eating and talking and listening, God is pleased to continue with his build.

He joins us at the table and consecrates our lives for sacred living. One stone after another, until a sturdy portion of faith finds its home along the walls of his house.

These lunches are a gift to me and would have been enough to qualify any of my Tuesdays as sacred. But my God is a “more than enough” kind of God, and he decided to punctuate my Tuesdays with another portion of his sacred build.

He gave me Bible study. Just as quickly as the “lunch bunch” weaved their way into my hearts, so did my Bible study group. Tuesday nights seemed a good fit with our church’s schedule of “doings,” and thus began our gatherings to study God’s Word. Ten Bible studies and 103 Tuesday nights later, we are still gathering. We number in the 20’s, 30’s, or 40’s on any given night. It matters not our numbers. What matters is that we come seeking God, offering up our worship to him as sacred sacrifice.

God is faithful to meet us around our tables. He consecrates our lives for sacred living…one stone after another…until a sturdy portion of faith finds its home along the walls of his house.

Indeed, from beginning to end, my Tuesdays are sacred. They belong to God and to the women he has so graciously scripted into my life. Apart from him, Tuesdays would simply be another day. A day when all manner of lunches and gatherings take place. But days and moments that include him? These are sacred days. And when he graces them with fellow pilgrims alongside, we are in for a build of the most sacred kind.

We are being built into a kingdom. A kingdom that cannot be shaken or destroyed. A kingdom constructed by the hands of a King who lays our stone alongside another’s and cements our purpose with sacred and sturdy surety.

Alone, my stone remains simply a solitary piece of rock incapable of supporting little more than my lofty ideals and feeble faith. But my stone alongside another and another and another? Well, we become a wall in the great house of God! The temple where he chooses to make his dwelling. And for that consecrated privilege, I willingly cast my stone at his feet.

Sacred Tuesdays. They are worthy of my obedience. They are God’s gracious gift to me. I pray that you know a similar portion. If not, then you are welcome to this table of grace. Come and sit awhile with my Father and me. It is my great joy to lay some stones alongside you as we yield to the Builder. He is after a masterpiece my friends, and in the end, we will marvel at his handiwork. Your story…your stone…weaves its way into mine. And so I pray,

Weave me, Living God, into your story of grace. This day, I come to you as a living stone, asking for your hands to place me within the wall of your spiritual house. Thank you for sacred Tuesdays—for moments in my life when I stand alongside my fellow pilgrims to build your kingdom. You knew I needed them, Lord…my Tuesday girls. I think they may have needed me, too. Together we are doing far more than we could ever do alone. We are being built into a holy priesthood, and this day I offer you my stone for the laboring. Let it not be in vain, Lord, for I long to be used for kingdom purpose. Guide me to such a sacred end. Amen.

And without further fanfare…allow me to introduce to you some of my Tuesday girls of grace!





peace for the journey~elaine

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