living God’s truth | Elaine Olsen

disclaimers…

February 23, 2010

“Jesus answered, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’” (John 14:6)

I heard my husband snorting from the living room last evening. Yes, snorting. The kind of “snort, snort” that goes along with laughter. His laughing always draws my attention; I hate to miss out on a good snort. Our hilarity is well-matched. What he finds funny, I do as well. Last night, the source of his laughter was rooted in an advertisement for a new miracle drug, whose front-side claims for success were dampened by the long list of disclaimers that follow on the backside of the commercial.

Disclaimers. Those pesky little addendums attached to products to protect said manufacture from assuming any liability should something go wrong. If you’ve watched any television lately or listened to the radio, I’m sure you could recite many of them from memory.

Do not take this medication if you are pregnant or nursing or if you plan on being pregnant, or if you have four kids and any of them are pregnant, or if you know someone who is pregnant;

Stop taking this medication if you should experience any of the following side effects: dizziness, vomiting, dry mouth, sleeplessness, hallucinations, have thoughts of harming others or letting your kids play in traffic, your big toe turns green, or you find your right eye hanging on by a thread.

Hmm, yes… give me some of that one, please. Is it any wonder that any of us are well after having to navigate the possible, negative side-effects of a drug in order to find some healing? Which leads me to this thought—not an original one but one I’ve thought about from time-to-time in recent days.

Worldly solutions to physical ailments are not enough to fix our problems. They band-aid our aches with temporary solutions, but never will they solve our issues completely. They can treat our symptoms, but even then, our physical, emotional, and most importantly, our spiritual maladies remain. Nothing the doctor can prescribe, the talk shows can purport, the best-selling self-help books can outline, the “gods” can offer (hmm… Buddha comes to mind), will fix the condition of the human heart. They may lengthen our time on earth, but they cannot determine our future beyond the grave.

Only Jesus can.

There aren’t multiple routes to permanent healing—to that place where each of us can finally voice “it is well with my soul.” There is only one way to that kind of peace, and his name is Jesus Christ. He comes with no disclaimers. He doesn’t need to protect himself from liability in case something should go wrong. There aren’t any addendums of “possible, negative side-effects” with the Son of God. His healing isn’t exclusive, nor does it matter if you are…

Pregnant or nursing.
Single or married.
Divorced and divorced again.
An alcoholic.
A criminal.
A person with a past.
An abuser.
The abused.
A prostitute.
Someone suffering from all manner of addictions.
A prodigal child.
A prodigal adult.
A sinner.
A saint.
A porn star, rock star, silver-screen star, sport’s star.
Poor.
Hungry.
Alone.
Desperate.
________________.

Regardless of the current condition of your heart and life, Jesus is the answer. The only possible side-effect of your liberally, ingesting of him is peace—more peace than you had yesterday, more that will come to you as you are faithful to take him down off of the shelf and drink deeply from his healing tonic. Does that mean your issues will evaporate with a dose of Jesus? No. As long as you and I are tethered to the flesh, issues attach themselves to our lives. But a coating of God’s medicine down our throats and into our hearts keeps those issues manageable and more easily tolerated because, as we confront them, we do so with the companioned presence of Jesus Christ. We carry his elixir with us as we go, and anywhere Jesus goes is good ground for a lasting remedy.

How thankful I am for a Savior who comes to me without disclaimers. I can trust in him—his grace and his cross—without worrying and wondering if my trust is well-placed. God does not fail his children. His promises are true. His word is faithful. His heart is pure. His love is genuine. But don’t take my word for it; take his. Pull your Bible down off the shelf, open it up, and drink deeply from the living Word who has a special word for your woundedness today.

Kind of sounds like a commercial, does it not? Oh, friends, if I’m going to boast about anything, let me boast in Jesus and on the side of his kingdom cross. He makes my life worth doing, and I plan on serving as his “PR” gal for the rest of my days. Won’t you join me in spreading the word about the Word?

Love you; mean it; happy, glorious Tuesday to you, my beloved friends! As always…

peace for the journey,

~elaine

the next 1283 words…

February 17, 2010

I have a confession to make… I’m having trouble writing a book along with writing meaty blog posts. Thus, today I’m handing over my next 1283 words in my current WIP. It ought to be enough to keep you busy for a few days so that I can walk ever closer to the finish line of my manuscript. Keep in mind, this is my look at the “ancients” of Hebrews 11, something I explain in greater detail in my recent video blog post. I hesitate putting this reflection here by itself because it doesn’t “read” in isolation. It’s part of the bigger picture, but God has prompted me to release it to you this day, believing that somebody needs its relevance now, not later.

I’ll be back soon, but not before I make some further headway with pen. Shalom!

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faith shuts the mouth of the lion {Daniel}

“Now when Daniel learned that the decree had been published, he went home to his upstairs room where the windows opened toward Jerusalem. Three times a day he got down on his knees and prayed, giving thanks to his God, just as he had done before.”
–Daniel 6:10

My spirit is restless today. There are a great many things weighing on my mind. I’ve been here before—a moment in time when the splintered fragments of a busy life merge together to seed dissonance within my spirit. My right response to the discord is not always immediate; sometimes it takes some time to come around to practicing the one habit that I know will bring me peace—prayer. Thankfully, today I came to a swifter conclusion in the matter of my chaos. Today, I spread out my prayer quilt on the floor and pled my heart before God’s. He met me there and was faithful to his promise to replace my anxious thoughts with his better thinking.

Prayer is always the right response to our heart cries. Things happen when we pray that otherwise go undone should we neglect such sacred privilege. God means for prayer to be our habit, our default mode, our tendency rather than our last resort. To get to the place where prayer is our common practice is to live in faith as the ancients of Hebrews 11 lived. When coming to our knees in prayerful pause is the natural inclination of our hearts, then we, like the ancients, anchor our hopes for resolution in the One who is more than capable of bringing about a good and solid conclusion. With prayer, we release our hold on chaos and place all matters back into the hands of God. He has made our mess his business and will untangle the chaotic wires so that we may rest in peace.

Daniel understood this principle. He lived the habit of prayer. Three times a day and with windows opened toward Jerusalem, he bowed his knee and his will to the will of the Father. His practice of prayer earned him a trip to the lion’s den, a veiled mention in the Hebrews’ Hall of Faith (see Hebrews 11:33), and a miraculous conclusion that still speaks a faithful witness to those of us who stand at the crossroads looking for a similar finale.

“… just as he had done before.”

When was the last time the same could be said of you? When did you last face a threat from the enemy—one directly linked to your faith—only to enact that faith more vigorously via a window left open for public viewing? When has your trust in God extended past your doubt? Your faith superseded your fear?

We live in a culture unfamiliar with physical threats attached to faith’s affection. Most of us openly practice our belief in God without fear of retribution. The religious freedoms we enjoy today were hard fought by those who stood on the front side of liberty. Our spiritual ancestors lived their faith most rigorously; we live ours a bit differently. Gone are the days of lions’ dens, at least in eastern North Carolina; come are the days of quieter threats, veiled assaults, casually dressed and appropriately masked attempts by the enemy at having us relinquish our faith. And while our faith isn’t currently threatened with an ancient edict of vicious reprisal, from time to time our contemporary faith is given a rigorous work-out by an ancient enemy whose motives remain the same as they did in Daniel’s day—to steal, to kill, to destroy.

God allows us seasons of testing—times when our faith skims through the refining fires of his holy purification. Those allowances sometimes feel like a night’s wrestling with some hungry lions. If our faith is in tact—on fire and ready for the evening engagement—then we, like Daniel, emerge in the morning without fleshly wounding. If, however, we’re ill-prepared—if we approach the lions’ den with our fear and unresolved doubt regarding a Father’s best intentions for our lives—then the chances of our faith waking to morning’s light without personal injury are severely reduced.

Faith shuts the mouth of the lion because faith has been preparing for his savage hunger long before it is served on a platter as the main course. Faith doesn’t wait until it is thrown into the lion’s den to exercise its witness. Instead, faith spends a lifetime living its witness so that when a night with the lion approaches, faith isn’t surprised by its arrival. Rather, faith is duly prepared for the assault.

Alicia Chole speaks to this truth in her book Anonymous: Jesus’ Hidden Years and Yours (Integrity Publishers, 2006, pg.15). In one of her mentoring moments she offers her readers some wisdom regarding times of trials and testing:

“… trials tell us less about our future than they do about our past. Why? Because the decisions we make in difficult places today are greatly the product of decisions we made in the unseen places of our yesterdays.”

Read that again slowly, and consider how Alicia’s wisdom applies to Daniel’s habit of prayer, to yours as well. More than likely, you and I will face the lion’s den a few times in our journey of faith. When we arrive there, our responses to the threat say more about our prior walk of faith than our current moment of crisis. If prayer has been our practice, if tending to our relationship with God has been our daily obedience, then we are better able to engage with the lion’s hungering roar.

Daniel’s “… just as he had done before” was his saving grace, his companioned peace, his settled confidence in a certain God who would ordain for him a night’s rest with the lions rather than a life’s slaughter. God is calling us to our own “… just as he had done before.” He means for prayer to be our habit and for us to practice our faith in a daily way so that when the enemy threatens us with his schemes, we can walk in freedom from his intended outcome.

We can face the lion today because faith has been the holy habit of our yesterdays. Faith is the way we live. It’s what we believe. It’s where we look. It’s the steps we walk. It’s how we’ll finish.

Forward. One step at a time, until our feet crossover the edge of Canaan, and we finally lay claim to the unseen country of our dreams. Our stories will find their conclusions with the grand punctuation from our Father’s pen, and we will be with him… no longer praying our prayers through an open window in the direction of Jerusalem, but, instead, living the fruition of those prayers, face-to-face with the Author and Perfecter of our faith. It’s just as certain and real and glorious as all that, and almost more than my heart can hold this day. Thus, I pray…

Keep me to the habit of my faith and my prayers, Father, to daily placing my thoughts and concerns into your hands believing that with their release comes your promised peace. Dissolve my fears with the truth of your presence, and replace my doubts with the certainty of your Word. You have made my mess your business; only you are worthy and capable of untangling my wires and weaving them into sacred significance. I yield them to you this day; keep me in a yielded posture so that when the lion offers his roar in my direction, I can offer yours back in response. Amen.

~elaine

a single thing

February 15, 2010

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

A few days ago, I wrote a post—a few rambling words brought about because of a single picture that spoke a single word to my spirit. Peace.

If truth be known (and really what profit is there in pretending), I didn’t want to write anything. My pen has grown weary in recent days. In fact, a certain fear crept over me last week, albeit momentary, that, perhaps, for the first time in a long time, I had nothing to say… nothing worthy to write. I’ve heard of writer’s block before, but I’ve never experienced it. Even typing that feels strange, almost ominous, almost as if by speaking it aloud, it might come on in full measure after hitting the “publish” button to this post. If I’ve written it once, I’ve written it a dozen times…

For as long as God allows the ink, I’ll keep penning my heart for him. And so, despite my feelings regarding an empty computer screen and with ample tears to go alongside, in obedience I began to type and pray. Pray and type, all the while asking the Lord to just use it as he would… if he would. Apparently, he has, and that, my friends, is no credit to me. It’s a credit to him.

God honors our obedience to use our gifts, most days in spite of us. We can choose our “no’s”—decline his offer of kingdom investment into the lives of others—but our “no’s” do nothing to further his agenda. Certainly there are seasons when our weariness and worn-out status diminish our effectiveness. We must heed those prompts of needful restoration. But even then, God will always use our willingness when our willingness concedes the struggle to his hands over ours… when we get to the end of ourselves and simply say, “If you will, Lord, use me once more in this single thing.”

A single thing.

We never know when ours will make an impact… our single thing—our one act of obedience, chosen freely despite feelings, emotions, and wills that sometime lead us to consider another direction. Instead of choosing self, we choose a single thing that extends influence beyond personal gratification—that changes the direction in someone else’s life, albeit seemingly small and immeasurable. We…

Bake some bread.
Pen a card.
Visit the sick.
Send a gift.
Run the carpool line.
Make a call.
Share a ride.
Hug a neck.
Speak a word.
Write a check.
Answer an E-mail.
Say a prayer.
Lend a hand.
Offer some time.
Share a smile.
Voice some truth.
Do some chores.
Live some love.
Give some Jesus.

Single things, when gathered and collected, become a big thing in the lives of those who stand on the receiving end. We’ve all been the recipients of single things; time and again our need has dictated their arrival. If we were to chronicle those single things—perhaps even the ones that have been lavishly bestowed upon us over the past week—then we would begin to understand the length that our Father’s love is willing to travel in order for us to have a more perfect life.

He’s working it all out, friends, in a way that exceeds comprehension, and he’s using us as his conduits of sacred dispensation. He’s taking the single things of our single days and weaving them into a tapestry that radiates with kingdom color and creativity. Rarely are we aware of his workings as they unfold, for we are a people easily distracted by temporal details and frustrations. God’s goodness continues in its liberality within our day-to-days, but without pause in our spirits to receive his invitation of sacred participation or to receive his goodness as it arrives, we come to the end of our days barely aware of his entrance and intervention on our behalf.

This week you will stand on both sides of God’s equation for goodness; you will receive it in abundance as well as be called upon in some capacity to add to someone else’s. Your obedience with your single thing will bring color to God’s bigger thing—a portrait that collectively gathers grace upon grace to paint a masterpiece worthy of the throne room of heaven. You may think that your single thing doesn’t matter, is too small and too inferior to make a difference. But your obedience to that single thing may just be the one thing that shifts the eternal foundation of someone’s forever.

Don’t underestimate your single thing, friends. Don’t diminish your obedience to use the gifts that God has generously seeded within your heart for kingdom progress. He who began a good work in you is faithful to bring it to completion. Not just for your sake, but more importantly, for his.

Keep to your single thing; keep yielding your heart in obedience as the Spirit prompts, and see if he is not faithful to make it all count! These are good days to be serving alongside of you in continuing faithfulness. Let us march the steps of our spiritual ancestors, believing God for far more than the eye can see, mind can conceive, and heart can imagine. I love you. As always…

peace for the journey,

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a place of peace…

February 11, 2010

“LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.” (Psalm 16:5-6).

A good boundary line; a pleasant place. Surely, I could live there. Surely I do… at least once or twice a week when I allow my heart to wander her landscape.

To walk her breadth. To sit on her front porch and hear the creakiness of her timber beneath my frame. To open her windows at night and feel the gentle breath of the mountain air caressing my skin. To watch her foliage slip in and out of seasons. To awaken with her mornings; to rest with her as she closes each day down.

Indeed, I could live there. At least I think I could. I realize she’s no longer a working farm, but it is fun to imagine my life beyond my current borders. To “see” peacefulness and then to envision me there, living out my days and nights and nights and days with her earth beneath my feet. I don’t imagine it would take long for my illusion to find interruption. No electricity and indoor plumbing would quickly engage my resistance. Mountain winters and mountain bears would be a difficult reckoning for me. Isolation? Well, it lives pretty isolated when left alone and never engaged.

And she’s got me thinking this morning. Thinking about those things that are initially pleasing to the eye that, when contemplated further, aren’t always as delightful as they seem to be. That drawbacks sometime shadow our dreaming. That with everything we imagine that might bring us peace on earth, there comes a reality alongside that everything to remind us that an earthly utopia doesn’t exist. That there is no ideal or perfect puzzle fit with the pieces of our lives because God doesn’t intend for us to remain fixed on the conditional nature of planet earth. God intends for us to remain fixed on the unseen boundary lines of his eternal forever.

Peacefulness never walks far from its contrast—chaos. Where there is one, there has always been the other. They may live in isolation from one another—separate farms with distinctive boundary lines—but peace and chaos are neighbors. One step in an alternate direction lands you on your neighbor’s property. You may not be intentional about the steps that take you there, but once you arrive within the borders of an unfamiliar land, you cannot help but notice the contrast. Peace doesn’t live like chaos, and chaos doesn’t live like peace. They may live next door to one another, but the way in which they operate their farms shares little resemblance.

Peace lives internally. Chaos lives externally.

Peace operates from anchored understanding. Chaos operates without anchors, tossed about and driven along by the wind in search of safe harbor.

Peace says “it is well with my soul.” Chaos says “it will never be well… with my soul or otherwise.”

Peace calms the spirit. Chaos clutters it.

Peace rests with the unanswerable. Chaos keeps asking the questions.

Peace settles the soul. Chaos continually disrupts it.

Peace concedes “the way, the truth, and the life” to Jesus Christ. Chaos concedes “the way, the truth, and the life” to humanity—to manmade solutions and selfish ambition.

Peace authors with God. Chaos authors with the enemy.

Peace lives eternally. Chaos dies a painful death.

I want to live in peace, within her borders and with her Maker. Peace doesn’t live any more peacefully in the mountains just because it is the mountains. Peace lives peacefully because God is there. Wherever he superintends the soil is where peace will be found. He cares for my North Carolina backdrop even as he cares for the mountainous, Tennessee landscape. I don’t have to travel there to find peace; I simply have to travel within—to pause and ponder the inescapable truth that anchors my soul to sacred understanding.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places because the presence of the Living God lives within my borders. He dwells within me through the power of his Holy Spirit. He’s laid claim to my soul and planted peace within my soil. From time to time I venture beyond my borders—spend a night or two at a neighboring farm named “chaos”—but the seeded peace of Jesus always brings me back home. Back to the place where I have ample time to rock on peace’s front porch, time to listen to peace’s refrain, time to roam within peace’s borders, time to rest beneath peace’s sheltering watch.

Peace.

Jesus Christ.

A good boundary line; a pleasant place.

Surely, I could live there. Surely I do.

The door is always open, friends. Come and walk your Peace this weekend. As always…

peace for the journey,

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a letter to a friend…

February 8, 2010

“As the rain and snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, 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 55:10-11}

Dear New Friend:

I thought about you tonight.

As my family made entrance into the local Blockbuster to peruse our evening’s entertainment, I remained in the warmth of my van, perusing the contents of my recent purchase.

Your new Bible.

You won’t be the first to crack its spine. I’ve already done that on your behalf. It naturally and without prompt fell open to Haggai, page 1247. My heart was moved to tears. It’s not by accident that my eyes landed there—a profound reminder for both of us about keeping “first things first” … God first. Haggai is one of the shortest reads in holy writ, admonishing its recipients to “give careful attention” to their paneled houses—to all the ways we’ve majored on selfish gain while giving little thought to spiritual gain. Our neglect in regards to the building of God’s “house” within us, leaves us as we are rather than as he intends for us to be.

A good word for you as you begin a deeper trek inward into the treasure trove of God’s Word. Thank you for asking for it… for being willing to brave the articulations of your heart and wanting to know just exactly what it means to “get into the Word.” Your genuine request touched me in the deepest way. I don’t often receive this one—a plea for understanding on how to “do” this adventure called “discipleship,” of going deeper with God but not sure what that means. What that looks like. Where that starts. How that is managed. I have an inclination that you already know how that feels, and if your hunger feels anything like mine did seven years ago, then you, my friend, are overwhelmed with desire. Wanting to know more, but not sure how to get there.

You get there one verse at a time. One tender moment at a time. One prayer, one thought, one question bravely given to our God and, then, allowing him time enough to answer you through the power of his holy Word. You don’t go in expecting to hold his “all” in one sitting. Instead, you pace yourself, content to know that any time spent with Jesus on the pages of Scripture will seed in you more knowledge, deeper peace, and a stronger understanding of who he is. Not just sometimes, but every time. God has gone before us to write his Word in accurate measure. Not one “t” remains uncrossed; not one “i” un-dotted.

God’s Word is perfect. Is life. Is effectual. Is flawless. Is the very breath of his holy heart. Is consecrated and set apart for our good gain. As you are faithful to come to its pages, to unfold it one story at a time, God is faithful to bring you into a spiritual fullness you’ve never known before. This is the sure witness of my heart. These “ain’t” just words, sister. This has been God’s very good gift to me—the transformational work of my heart that began in magnified measure seven years ago when I had a head-on collision with the Word’s incomparable strength.

God’s Word has changed me. It will change you as well. And for the record, if you never receive any further instruction—via the pulpit, another teacher, another Bible-study, another blog, another retreat, another song—you’ve been given everything you need to engage with the truth of Scripture and to live out its witness (1 John 2:27). If Jesus is your Savior, then you have his living Spirit within you (John 14, 16). He will counsel you as you go; he will administer understanding that exceeds human attempts at having it all make sense.

Do we need help from time to time, some mentoring from those who’ve been at this longer? You bet. That’s why we do Bible study; why we surround our lives with good resources that will poke and prod us along in our sacred transformation. But when it’s not there, when we are left to our quiet contemplation before Father God and with his Word, then don’t let the enemy fool you into thinking that nothing is happening. That it can’t work because you lack the knowledge or don’t have the spiritual “resume” to back up your hunger.

Things always happen with God and with his Word… even when you can’t see it, feel it, conceive it, understand it. Even when you’re having a hard time believing it. God’s Word accomplishes its purpose in us; this is his promise to us. This is his promise to you (Isaiah 55:11-12; Hebrews 4:12).

So I thought about you tonight in front of Blockbuster, and I cried. I remembered how far these “pages” have brought me in a short time and how fully they continue to carry me, sustain me, and enliven me to the spiritual pulse of all creation. And I am overwhelmed with the thought of what they might do for you. Thus, a few tears of baptism and a prayer of consecration over your new Bible on this cold night in a warm van. There’s a lifetime of wealth within its covers. From front to back and every consecrated word in between, there lives a history that has always been… that will always be. You are part of that history; so am I. We are there, intricately woven within a story that’s been flowing in and out of the mind and heart of God for all eternity.

What a privilege to walk that story with you … to be included in something so far beyond us, yet so gracefully bestowed upon us because of a Father’s infinite love and great grace. You have reminded me of why I am in the kingdom business, friend. Why I have cast me lot with the Lover of my soul and have committed my heart, my steps, my pen, my all in his direction. And should he grant me a few more days of witness upon this earth, then by the grace of God, may my all continue to point you and others to the everlasting truth of his living Word.

Thanks for being brave. Thanks for reaching out. Your Bible will soon be home with you. As always…

peace for the journey,

~elaine
PS: Thank you to so many of you for leaving words of encouragement and congrats on my two-year anniversary last post. I had a hard time deciding what to do for three of you, so rather than picking a prize, I’m allowing the three winners to pick their prize… a Christian book or CD of choice that I can easily find on CBD or Amazon! E-mail me your choices {$15 limit please}, and I’ll order these this week. Random winners are…
#6 Rebecca @ Life and Godliness
#33 Kathy S. @ Blessed Builder
#49 Deb @ He Gave Me a Dream

Category Archives: living God’s truth