RAHAB'S FAITH

There is one detail in Joshua 2, in the story about Rahab and the spies, that adds great excitement to an already exciting story. The tiny detail is this:

And she said, According unto your words, so be it. And she sent them away, and THEY DEPARTED: AND SHE BOUND THE SCARLET LINE IN THE WINDOW. (Joshua 2:21 -- Caps mine)

She had to wait approximately two weeks for the promised rescue to come to pass. Yet, she didn't give mental assent to the words of the spies, and planned to put the cord out of the window only when she saw the army approaching. Instead, she did it immediately. As soon as she helped the spies escape, she put the line in the window as a sign of her faith in their words.

With the type of fear that must have been rampant in Jericho at that time, she could have been in big trouble. The soldiers had already been to her house looking for the spies. They were watching the city both from within and from without, since the spies had to hide out in the hills for three days to avoid the searchers.

Scarlet, as we know, isn't a subdued color. Yet, Rahab had the courage and faith to put the cord out and leave it against the stone wall throughout the whole campaign against Jericho by Joshua and his forces.

She also had to tell her family about the impending attack and the cord, and persuade them to come to her place when the attack started -- trusting that none of them would let the secret slip or turn against her.

The hand of the Lord was over her, I'm sure. That would account for a great deal of the protection she received. However, the fact that she stepped out in faith, recognized God and His men for who they were, and prepared herself and her family from the very beginning, shows what type of person she was on the inside. No matter what kind of life she had been living, her integrity, courage and strength of character surfaced when they were needed.

OH, for the type of faith that Rahab had... to take God at His word and trust that what He has promised to do He is able to perform. Rom. 4:21

THE LORD IS MY ROCK

Ps. 18:1-2 [Amp.]

I love you fervently and devotedly,
O Lord, my Strength.

The Lord is my Rock, my Fortress,
and my Deliverer;
my God, my keen and firm Strength
in Whom I will trust and take refuge,
my Shield, and the Horn of my salvation,
my High Tower.

ENTERING THE IRON

Ps. 105:18 - His feet they hurt with fetters, he was laid in chains of iron and his soul entered into the iron. [AMP.]


Boy, do I identify with that!! Many tend to think that when Joseph was taken to Egypt as a slave, he moved through his trials and tribulations with a smile -- or, at the very least, quiet patience. The above verse seems to indicate he responded in much the same manner as Job -- except Job had age and experience on his side. It doesn't appear Joseph wailed and screamed his "poor mes" all over the prison...but became depressed and reflective. He probably felt abandoned and experienced a great void in his life...all the while knowing he HAD heard from God and that the promises WOULD come to pass--MUST come to pass.

It's one thing for iron to enter into our soul and another for our soul to enter into the iron. Iron entering our soul indicates external circumstances strangling, or trying to strangle, our "self." We still can maintain a sense of fight against the forces at our door. However, when our soul enters into the iron there is a definite sense of defeat; the inability to fight back. In the vernacular, it's a time to "roll over and play dead."

In most of my life there was always a fight; iron trying to enter into my soul. I was "tough", though; so the iron cut and scraped away the skin and even drew blood -- but the "fight" always was there to make up for the pain and despair. I may not have liked the circumstances that bit and tore, but I was not destroyed.

Then, in September, 1984, my soul entered into the iron. I still waited for the promise to be fulfilled. I still had a dim light on the inside of my heart that told me it would come to pass. Though there was such a large void in my soul, I had little will, little strength, to fight back. I knew the promise would come to pass -- but this time it would come to pass in God's time and without my help, my fighting. The pain wasn't even as intense as it sometimes was when the iron tried to enter my soul -- I was, in fact, largely numb, uncaring of the pain when it existed. But, beyond my normal life-system, my days were spent, hour by hour, at work and at home, in tears. A constant flood:Typing at my desk with tears falling on the papers; leaning on a sill in the Ladies Room, tears spraying onto the glass; hiding in an old stairway by the office, tears hitting the floor; tears falling into dishwater, sinking below the surface, and immediately becoming unrecognizable. The only time I avoided crying was when I was in front of my kids who were walking through this hard stretch with me. I wasn't able to never do it, though, and my son, 11 years old, occasionally saw it and with a compassionate heart, Steve sometimes snuggled up with me on the couch and held me and we cried quietly together, him for me, me for everything.

I didn't give up--so the fight against the iron in the past held me in good stead. I'd never given up before; I wouldn't give up then. I would mother and work and "church" and hang out with dear, caring friends, and do all the normal things as any walking, waking person did...and someday I would want to live again, simply because I WANTED to -- not because I HAD to. Someday my soul would exit the iron -- when God healed me sufficiently, or the promise came to pass. But until then...

I "lived and moved and had my being"
IN THE IRON.

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The crying stopped, suddenly, in late April, 1985. A month later, the iron shattered into tiny, dust-sized bits and blew out of me when God dropped Dave -- a loving, caring, giving man -- into my life. The pain no longer had control, healing poured through my body, soul, and spirit.

Joy became the winner then.

Still is.

HALLELUJAH!!

CURTIS... MY FIRST RESPONDER FRIEND

The following is a portion of a post from June 28, 2010. As you will see, this is how I met Curtis and what I learned about him. Afterwards, you will learn more.

On April 10th, an unseasonably warm Sunday afternoon, approximately 50 of us First Responders arrived from various parts of town. We stood on the sidewalk directly where the shooting had occurred. Standing next to me, holding my hand, was a worn-out, old-looking Black man. This was his first F.R. time.

When we finished praying, I shook hands with him and asked his name. It is Curtis. We walked and talked for a couple minutes and I offered him a ride home.

During the 3-minute drive he shared his story with me. Curtis had been on crack and other drugs for most of his life. He is 52, has been in prison 8 times. Curtis has been “clean” for a year and lives at a Christian rehab house. He is thankful he was in prison so often .... he believes if he had not been behind bars, time after time, he would have been dead through murder or O.D. He is one grateful man.

We have become friends. In this short time, his body appears more solid, his face exhumes more light, and,when we meet, he always hugs me and tells me he’s "doin' good."

How many times would any of us say we were grateful for prison, thankful that it was the right place to be at the right time?

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Late yesterday afternoon, I went to a murder site. A man, 47 years old, named Anthony, had been chased by a young man and shot and killed while running through a back yard. This was the 6th murder this year, so it's always disappointing to have to take that time, but we do it.

When I parked in a local post office lot, I saw a man who was using a tri-pod walking cane, having a hard time getting through snow stacked next to the sidewalk. Then I thought, "Isn't that Curtis?" I hadn't seen him for several months, and, since life changes, I couldn't be absolutely sure. When I climbed out of the car, I said, "Hi." Then he turned to me and grinned and I knew it truly was him. But over the past nearly-two years that we've known each other, I'd certainly never seen him with a cane and struggling with and shuffling his left leg.

When I reached him, and we started to walk to the murder prayer site, I hooked our arms together so we could walk slowly and solidly, make it easier for him. I asked him what had happened. This is it:

On January 4th, he had been up the street near this site visiting his Mom. When he left, walking down the block heading for a Bible study, a car came by and the guys inside started shooting at a house. When he saw them nearby, and knew the risk he had, he tossed himself under a car. They saw him do this, and as they were driving past the car, they aimed under it. He was shot in the leg, twice. He is in physical therapy and doing better, but it's going to take a while before he can really walk again.

After the prayer time, we walked back to the parking lot. Before he left with his rehab pastor, he said he'd like to go to lunch with me some day, and said, "I'll pay." [I know he doesn't have much money, if any, so B.K. or McD. will be more than sufficient.] That is very nice. My husband approves of my friendships, so that's not an issue. [One of my goals is to have the men meet. I'm sure Dave can bless Curtis, and maybe the other way around, too.]

Other bits:

1) Curtis knew the man, Anthony, who was murdered. Christian seed may well have been planted in Anthony's heart; the results aren't known.

2) a Middle-School boy was brought to the prayer site. Mason is 12 to 14, and is a grandson of Anthony. It was amazing to see people pray over him and speak very clearly to him about how he can serve the Lord and help to turn this evil around in that part of town.

3) Curtis' son was shot not long ago. 9 bullets, 7 in front, 2 in back... and survived. Curtis is hoping his son will realize that the Lord has His hand protecting him.

In spite of the fact that it's connected to murder, First Responders groups always have joy in the mix. We really do care for each other and, in spite of the reason, we welcome our time together, sharing the Word, encouraging the pastors and "servants", pouring forth love.

Yesterday... cold, cloudy, windy, blah!... was even more a blessing for me than usual. I...saw...Curtis! I know he's still struggling at times with all those decades of addiction and years and years in prison, but he has a soft and caring heart. And he's alive when that shooting that so badly wounded his leg could so easily have ended his life.

I feel so blessed to have another "brother" and it's always... ALWAYS...good to see him.

MY PHURBA

Word Carnival ... "Disappoint"
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Until today, I had other "disappoint" focuses: teeth pulled last Thursday after a couple years of fighting my body and fussing about it, putting it off, scared; the yucky flu hitting on Friday; an increasingly reduced energy level that's been kicking my tail since about a year ago and interferes more often from letting me be out and about. Annoying, and, yes, disappointing.

And then yesterday, when I saw my dear Phurba at the baby-dedication event, my heart just faded. It's been sad ever since.

I've known Phurba for 1-1/2 years. He's about 25; has had seizure brain-tumor problems since he was 8. When his parents came from Nepal, a year ago last Fall, it was anticipated that the tumor-issue would be addressed soon, since we have great hospitals. When I first met him shortly after their arrival, he entered my heart. For some reason, when he saw me, he'd smile. Sometimes he would reach out and grab my hand.

He had the surgery last Spring on Thursday, April 7th. One of my huge blessings was that when he became conscious Saturday morning the first thing he said, in Nepali, was, "Where's Joanne?" His brother, Bijay, called me, I hopped into the car and whipped down to the hospital. When I reached ICU, he was "out" again. He was released a few days later. A couple times the doctors seemed to be very pleased, convinced life was going to change for him.

As understandably as possible, he had left Buddhism and come to the Lord. On May 29th, with a number of his family members, he was baptized. What a joyful day!


Last Summer, Phurba's brother, Sai, asked me to help about 15 family and friends go to our city's great zoo. He asked me to drive my van and lead two other cars across town. We were crammed with kids, parents, and grandparents. What was funny? I was the tallest of the large group, and only non-Asian member. To make sure they could see me when we were moving around, I wore my pink sparkly ball cap.

Phurba spent the whole day with me, holding my hand, him yanking me one direction, me pulling him the other. Both of us laughing. Sai and I took him with us on the Skyfari chairlift. We were a little concerned about his dizziness and his fear... if he wanted off while flying over trees, we'd be in real trouble. We did it, anyway; we put him between us, tightly. Oh, and he DID have fun. He'd point down at the giraffes, the birds, and monkeys and hippos and laugh. Sai and I laughed, too.

The last event was eating ice cream. It was a mess with a number of them, especially one family that had just arrived from Nepal a couple days earlier, and had not been ice cream eaters. And, for the whole group, eating ice cream cones outside in the heat was not what any of them had previously experienced. Phurba got it all over him. And, again, we all laughed.

Life has changed. He had lost weight by this summer; he has lost much more. He is pale. Dizziness is almost constant. He can't eat much and he vomits frequently. He sleeps a lot. My blessing? When I walk in their front door and he sees me, he often runs staggery across the living room and throws his arms around me... and laughs. When his family has me sit down near their dining room table, he often comes over and sits cross-legged on the floor right in front of me so he can watch me. He speaks almost NO English.. can count a bit, can say "hi", and can say "Love". I know fewer than 10 of their Nepali words. So, Phurba and I can't say any more words than those very few.

But we do love each other. Nothing else counts.

My heart of disappointment is simply what I described about Phurba's present life. Thin, pale, dizzy -- not improving at all; gradually becoming worse.

I had no idea when the Lord began to drop these many Bhutanese people into my life almost 2 years ago that I would be so in love, so filled with joy so often, laughing so much, and rarely...very rarely...so disappointed.

I must rely on one of my mottoes: God is BIGGER!! I know that the worst that can happen is that when we are both in heaven, Phurba and I will spend time together ... and we'll talk, really TALK... and we will LAUGH!

GAPING, WAITING, EXPECTING

There’s a gaping hole in my soul –
Big enough to drive a truck through.

It’s not a fearful emptiness –
No reason for panic

But anticipating, breathless

waiting, waiting, waiting

Nose-pressed-to-the-window

EXPECTATION

for God

HIMSELF

to enter in

MARANATHA!

This is not spiritually-focused teaching, intensely grabbing hearts and spirits, presenting new poems or stories. Nope. Just a grateful, joyful, smile-oriented moment to share. Here goes.

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GOD IS BIGGER!! That has become one of my main mottoes. I would have wanted to know it back in those years. God began then to plant the “BIG” seed. I’m very grateful.

I was married on Christmas Eve, 1968. In April, 1969, my husband and I left Tacoma, WA, and ended up in the San Mateo/Redwood City region of the S.F., CA, Bay area, where he had been born and lived through his teens. He wanted to go back, hoping to restore serious family situations involving him. He wanted to develop a good relationship with his Dad. It had never happened before. It didn't again.

Physically and emotionally the 5 years I was there were pretty scary... in fact, exceptionally frightening on nearly every possible facet.

Except One. One BIG one.

I had been a Christian for exactly 3 years when we headed south. During those 5 years in California, God dropped, spiritually, a Mom and Dad, several sisters and brothers, and good friends into my life. He put me in churches and Bible studies and home group get-togethers. These fed my heart, grew my spirit, gave me hope. Protected me.

After all these years, there's one event I always remember and feel so blessed to have been in the "right place at the right time".

In 1972, a friend and I attended a home Bible study in Palo Alto. Went occasionally, but didn't always like to go; the teacher seemed to always be talking about Leviticus 23, which I thought was boring, and he tended to holler at the 50 of us... YES, 50 in one large living room.

This evening, after I settled in, I saw 4 hippie-looking guys sitting on the floor, a couple with guitars. Obviously, visitors. After the evening prayer was over, they were introduced. They were a singing group connected to what was called the Jesus Movement. [Keith Green, Barry Maguire, 2nd Chapter of Acts are famous members.] The guys said they'd been very involved with drugs, still had court time and might be in jail, but had come to the Lord and were attending Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa. And, for now, as they could, they were traveling around California to sing.

Then they did. Several songs. And I fell in love with them... and, by the way, their group was named "Love Song". The main leader was/is Chuck Girard. I've admired him ever since.

They later came to Redwood City and gave concerts. Always free. Since I had no money, it was a big heart feeder that I could go.

In May, 1974, my 2 kids and I escaped to Omaha. I never heard or saw Love Song again. And always missed that blessed time.

Through it all, my favorite song was Maranatha! I hadn't been able to track it down over these years. Then, yesterday, I suddenly thought of the song and wondered, "What about Youtube? Has it finally shown up there?"

And it had! So, for the first time in 38 years, I listened to it last evening ... over and over and over.

Now, no, it isn't the best lyrical song ever written. And, yes, too repetitious. But, especially then, in our world view and our Christian walk, it focused on the return of our Lord and our need to prepare for that world-wide, eternal event. It was a very important then.


Still is.

Enjoy and rejoice! on Youtube.