FEAST OF WOE

... Woe to you ... Woe to you ...
Luke 11:37-53

I am trying to imagine this dinner, a dinner to which Jesus accepted an invitation to come and dine. He was a guest, at least by outward appearance. Upon entering the home of this Pharisee, he sat to eat. Without washing! Without washing, in a home of a Pharisee, and apparently surrounded by others of ilk suit, whose entire life focus lay in externals.

Was this invitation genuine, or like on so many other occasions, did the external action hide the internal motive?

It appears clearly another trap, were it not for a single word. Marvel. The heart issuing the invitation marveled at Jesus’ actions. A marveling flowing from admiration, admiration of Jesus, admiration of His acting on the spirit of the law rather than its letter, a letter which man had turned to confining bars of iron for which there was no key.

Had this Pharisee learned to see through Jesus’ understanding? Did he seek, with joyous abandon, to cast off the confines of man, longing to trade them in for the freedom of God’s heart? Were Jesus’ words playing to hearts still bound? Hearts this Pharisee desired freed?

I can only wonder, as scouring words began to fall from Jesus’ lips. This room, so full of pride, suddenly felt Truth’s fine-tuned laser expose their sin and the stench of decay could be disguised no more.

As ‘woes’ rained upon their ears, the cleansing waters never reach the stains Jesus longed to remove. Ire’s shield deflected the mercy of heaven’s purifying water, and the only grief to visit that room flowed from Heaven’s heart as the rotting, fleshly souls lay utterly exposed. Woes fell in relentless mercy, had any heart truly sought the Father’s, but in truth they’d strayed far from Him. A trap, laid warily by darkness’ kingdom, caught its prey. And those who should have held Kingdom keys, this night welded tight the locked door of their own dank tomb.




How often, LORD, I call and invite You to feast with me. Yet as we partake together, do I catch Your cleansing words? Do I hold them fast within my heart, letting their waters of sweet mercy wash off sin’s hidden stains? When ‘woe’ You have to speak to this fickle heart of mine, stir repentant grief within my soul till it flows in cleansing waters. Keep the shield of pride from ever deflecting the grief Your heart would share with me as it falls in cleansing rains. Bind my heart, O LORD, fast to Your very own, that we can sup together on and on.



© 12 April 2005
DeAnna L. Brooks

Possessed

...Now there was a certain man of Ramathaim Zophim, of the mountains of Ephraim, and his name was Elkanah the son of Jeroham, the son of Elihu...
1 Samuel 1:1

What a beautiful way for God to usher in the end of time of judges .... to lead up to the birth of Samuel, who even as the smallest child so tuned in to God that he heard His voice and responded. To capture the hidden beauty, look closely at it’s backdrop.

Ramathaim Zophim ... double height of the watchers
Ephraim... ... double fruit
Elkanah ... ... God has possessed
Jeroham ... compassionate
Elihu ... He is my God

These opening words could just as easily read ... Now there was a certain man from the double height of the watchers, from the mountains of double-fruit. His name was God Has Possessed, and he was a son of Compassion, an off-spring of He Is My God ...

What incredible heritage ... what a story, woven deep within the telling ... what a promise to live out! And it’s mine. Mine is the portion of double-fruit, harvested from a land cared for, from a land vigilantly tended through a focus on things above. Mine that blessed portion that only comes from keeping out the things of this world just waiting to seed my land with the tares of its cares and worries, if ever I drop my guard and fail to keep a close eye on my kingdom possession.

And my identity? Isn’t it truly God-Has-Possessed? For indeed I am His possession, redeemed with the scarlet flow from Heaven’s Own veins. A flow spilling forth upon me from Compassion’s own heart. Hallelujah, He Is My God!

Oh, My Delight

Names had such significance to ancient peoples. I can only wonder at the names Naomi and Elimelech placed upon their sons. Was it their reflection of God speaking? Of the times? Of the condition of their own faith? I can only speculate, but to call your first born son sick and your other son pining, one can’t help wanting to enter into fuller understanding of their hearts. They’d lived only ten years in Moab, from the absence of God’s presence, before the last male of Naomi’s little family died. So her children here children had brought their names with them from Israel. Somehow Naomi’s and Elimelech’s hopelessness reaches through the pages of time and pricks at my heart.

Will time paint the same picture of me it was painting of Naomi? Will the seasons of my discouragement rename me? I pray not. Though named Naomi, My Delight, somewhere within her journey Naomi renames herself with a reflection of her soul...Mara, Bitterness. Whether life’s circumstances had brought her to this place, or her inner-spirit’s bleakness painted this view of her life, her pain is real. Just as real as the season of my own pain. But God holds out a promise for my heart. A promise held in the naming that was mine before a single foundations of the world was laid down.

Scripture tells me that my own name is Naomi ... I hear the Ever-Existing Eternal One, the Lord My Righteousness calling me My Delight. It doesn’t matter the brush with which I try to name myself, God knows me as the Delight of His heart. Oh, what place of joy, what place of refreshment. And what unfathomable love of God that will not allow ‘bitterness’ to remain, but will bring my soul’s Ruth to restore my knowledge that God has named me for Himself ... named me My Delight.
Ruth 1


© 4 April 5, 2005

That I Would Be Cling-Free Free

...but Ruth clung to her...Ruth 1:14




It is so easy to rush by this picture and miss its message. We don’t cling much these days. In fact, we’re encouraged to buy Cling-Free products designed to make our life easier, less interrupted by what we want to disregard....cast off....cast out.

But Ruth, Ruth shows us a heart so tuned to God that she chases after, grabs hold, and won’t let go. Clings with such tenacity that to attempt to break the embrace breaks a heart.
As a parent God may have allowed you a glimpse of what true clinging is all about. Reflect back to that moment, picturing again, what unfolded when you needed to leave your toddler. It hadn’t happened before, and hopefully it didn’t happen again. But this time, this time you had carried your child in your arms and were now passing them into the care of another. Or maybe they had walked by your side, but then your child turned, saw you were about to leave, and ran at you, threw their body around yours so tightly, so profoundly, you couldn’t move away. Not even a hair’s breadth. You were stunned to discover the power of their grip, the determination of their heart. If you’ve experienced a moment like I’m describing, you know what I’m talking about. A breaking of a heart, or maybe two hearts, was what it took to separate you from your child’s embrace.

This is the picture of Ruth’s clinging to Naomi. This should be the picture of me and Jesus...of you and Jesus. I don’t think we know how to cling anymore. We’ve been immersed in the world’s cling-free substance and find laying hold of God, let alone clinging fast to Him, a near impossibility.

May God put the cling back into our touch! May we refuse to release our embrace on Love. May we hold so fast to Him that wherever He goes we are part of the going.



© 4 April 2005 DeAnna Brooks

That I Would Be Cling-Free Free

...but Ruth clung to her...Ruth 1:14




It is so easy to rush by this picture and miss its message. We don’t cling much these days. In fact, we’re encouraged to buy Cling-Free products designed to make our life easier, less interrupted by what we want to disregard....cast off....cast out.

But Ruth, Ruth shows us a heart so tuned to God that she chases after, grabs hold, and won’t let go. Clings with such tenacity that to attempt to break the embrace breaks a heart.
As a parent God may have allowed you a glimpse of what true clinging is all about. Reflect back to that moment, picturing again, what unfolded when you needed to leave your toddler. It hadn’t happened before, and hopefully it didn’t happen again. But this time, this time you had carried your child in your arms and were now passing them into the care of another. Or maybe they had walked by your side, but then your child turned, saw you were about to leave, and ran at you, threw their body around yours so tightly, so profoundly, you couldn’t move away. Not even a hair’s breadth. You were stunned to discover the power of their grip, the determination of their heart. If you’ve experienced a moment like I’m describing, you know what I’m talking about. A breaking of a heart, or maybe two hearts, was what it took to separate you from your child’s embrace.

This is the picture of Ruth’s clinging to Naomi. This should be the picture of me and Jesus...of you and Jesus. I don’t think we know how to cling anymore. We’ve been immersed in the world’s cling-free substance and find laying hold of God, let alone clinging fast to Him, a near impossibility.

May God put the cling back into our touch! May we refuse to release our embrace on Love. May we hold so fast to Him that wherever He goes we are part of the going.



© 4 April 2005 DeAnna Brooks

MIDNIGHT VIGIL

…That same night the LORD said to him (Gideon)…
(Judges 6:25)


God never wastes anything! Not the opportunity to redeem our choices, nor the revelations of an element of His Godhood we had not seen before. Neither does God waste those precious times of our obedience. I don’t need to look beyond the words above to see that truth.

Gideon, a prisoner to his circumstances, a prisoner to the image of a God Gideon defines by those circumstances, suddenly finds himself confronted with GOD, showing Himself to be so much more. Jehovah, the God who IS with him; the God who reveals Himself as peace in a land, in a life, that knows anything but peace. And Gideon lays hold of this truth, takes it in to himself, uses it to define a clearer picture in His heart of the God he’s called to worship and obey. Without being told, Gideon proclaims the lesson heard and believed by building an altar he names The Lord Is Peace. And God takes Gideon, that same night, at his moment of confession, and stretches him…..spiritually…..stretches him in the arena of faith.

Immediately, with Gideon’s confession made, God calls him to act upon it. To tear down all the evidences around him of a faithless people. Not just in his own personal life. He is called to step beyond. God, not a God of compromise, will not share His place with other gods, other places of worship. They must be destroyed, torn down, all evidence of their existence removed.

If we see nothing else in the beginning of Gideon’s faith-walk, we learn the core of faith, of obedience. Faith is not passive, it’s active! It demands response. God having declared Himself with Gideon basically says to Gideon, “Now that you say you believe Me, prove it! And God asks Gideon to start in his own house, in his own neighborhood. It was the perfect test for Gideon, and God knew it. For God knew what lay ahead in His plans for Gideon, and if Gideon couldn’t trust Him now, how could he ever face what lay down the road?

I love Gideon! Surrounded by Hebrews having forgotten God, having adapted to the ways of the word, fully embracing them, what God asked of Gideon could hardly have been more significant. Like Jesus, Gideon had to arrive at the point he could fully say, “Into your hands I commit my life. I trust You to be with me wherever You ask me to walk.” He believed, but I can just hear him saying, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”

So Gideon obeyed, in the veil of the night!

Can’t you see it, that baby step? Faithful, but tottering. With each swing of faith’s axe, however, Gideon’s boldness grew. As the oxen’s throats were cut and the offerings, of self and blood, laid out before God, Gideon’s sense of God’s very presence with him grew stronger and stronger. That’s what obedience does.

Something tells me that until that night Gideon lived a life of timidity. The town’s people certainly didn’t fear him, for they didn’t hesitate to demand his death when they discovered his actions destroyed their idols. But his father, watching Gideon now, hearing what his son had done, realized something far more significant than toppled poles and broken altars had occurred during the hours of the night. His son stood before him, transformed. A new man with whom Baal, and all his minions of darkness, could not contend…a man the Spirit of the LORD had come upon.

The same, yesterday, today, and forever … The LORD is Peace. His message has not changed, nor His promise. And the footprints of obedience yesterday wear the same shoe-leather today. Even if it begins with a tottering step in the cloak of the night, by the time the dawn appears, our footsteps will be bold and power-filled, for in obedience His presence remains with us. And we are transformed!

© 3 April 2005
DeAnna L. Brooks