Month: March 2012

I sing with my speech kids nearly every day. The rhythm and rhyme reach different parts of their brains and help most of them grasp new concepts more easily. We rap vocabulary words and definitions, tap out syllables (re-frig-er-a-tor), and sing goofy songs about plants and animals or how much we like sandwiches. One of my favorite ditties is a little poem written by Rose Fyleman called “Singing Time”. I made up a tune to it and taught it to my kiddos. It goes like this:

“I wake in the morning early/And always the very first thing/I poke out my head/I sit up in bed/And I sing, and I sing, and I sing.”

My little guys love the song, but to tell you the truth, when I wake in the morning early and poke out my head, my natural response is not to burst forth in a (scratchy, morning voice) melody. My first reaction is to moan, and to moan, and to moan. That’s why my alarm is set to play Robert Lowry’s beautiful hymn “How Can I Keep From Singing?” in a version sung by James Loynes. These are the words to the first two verses:

“My life flows on in endless song/Above earth’s lamentation/I hear the sweet, tho’ far-off hymn/That hails a new creation;/Thro’ all the tumult and the strife/I hear the music ringing;/It finds an echo in my soul,/How can I keep from singing?

“What tho’ my joys and comforts die?/The Lord my Saviour liveth;/What tho’ the darkness gather round?/Songs in the night he giveth./No storm can shake my inmost calm/While to that Refuge clinging;/Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,/How can I keep from singing?”

Since I have a gradual alarm, in which the volume increases slowly over a couple minutes, I usually awaken in the middle of the second verse, so my first conscious thought most days is that Christ is Lord of heaven and earth. What an amazing truth to think of right as I start off – he is Lord of today! He is Lord of the joy I will face, of the challenges, of the expected, of the unexpected. He is sovereign over all.

With him on my mind, how CAN I keep from singing (even with that rusty voice)?

“It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes.” Psalm 119:71

My favorite miracle in the Bible is where Jesus heals the man with the withered hand. It’s a story that’s found in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and almost every time I read it, I get a little chill. That’s because I can see in my mind this man stretching out his shriveled up, paralyzed right hand and “wham!” – It’s as whole as his left hand. What awe and joy he must have felt! I find myself stretching out my arm, just imagining . . . just . . . imagining.

I once heard a speaker describe trials, and she stated that there are two different kinds, those that are devastating, and those that cause inconvenience. A withered hand is an inconvenience. I know because I have one. I was born with mild cerebral palsy, resulting in weakness and minor paralysis on my left side. I walk with a limp, I have terrible balance (ask my roommate who likes to watch me tip over at the slightest bump), but the most obvious feature of my CP is my weak little “goofy part”, aka my left hand. It doesn’t do most of what I want it to do, and sometimes it gets in the way.

When I was small, I would ask my mom why I was the way I was. “Why didn’t God make me normal?” I’d say after a frustrating day when I couldn’t climb the monkey bars, or a particularly painful physical therapy session. Now I kind of wonder why it wasn’t worse; why my brain injury is an inconvenience for me, but not devastating. I’ve come to recognize that God’s finger didn’t slip when he “knit me together in my mother’s womb” (Psalm 139:13).

I believe he allowed oxygen flow to be obstructed from my developing brain (in part, at least) so that I would carry in my body the constant lifelong reminder that I am not sufficient to handle my problems. Before I was born, God knew me. He knew my personality, he knew my sinful tendencies, he knew how super-independent and self-confident I can get. So in his divine wisdom and grace, he afflicted me.

It is a gentle affliction in the grand scheme of things. I lead a nearly perfectly normal life. I work, play touch football, drive, tie my shoes. I am not bound to a wheelchair or a bed. I am not in pain. In a world full of those who suffer far worse, I know I am blessed.

As Paul was given a thorn in the flesh, and Jacob’s hip was touched by God so that he limped for the rest of his life, so my Father nudges me through my physical weakness, reminding me of my need to rely on him. I shudder to think what my life would be like without my disability. Good grief, I’m prideful and self-reliant enough as it is; what would I be with a more normal body? God knows. And if a healthy, whole brain would have brought him more glory in my life, I no doubt would have had one. But he decided a weaker body would be best.

And that’s why, after thirty-one years of living with this gentle affliction, I can echo the Psalmist in all truthfulness, “It is good“.

2 Corinthians 12:9 “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

Psalm 27:4 “One thing I have desired of the LORD, that will I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD, and to inquire in His temple.”

Although I’ve known him for a long time, in reading through the Gospels recently, I found myself discovering anew the Jesus who fills their pages. Over the past months I’ve watched this Man walk and talk, love, preach, heal, die for my sins, and rise again. The word that keeps coming to my mind to describe him is “beautiful”. In our culture, that word is not often used of grown men, but the Psalmist spoke of “the beauty of the LORD”, and I think it perfectly describes God Incarnate as he is revealed in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. He is unlike any other man that we have known. I am awed by his wisdom, enthralled by his miracles, touched by his tenderness, amazed by his grace. He always knew what to say, what to do, and exactly when and how. He walked through this earthly life gracefully and completely unspoiled by the sinful world around him. And he did it for us. Such stunning love captures my heart.

Is he not beautiful?

Luke 7:48-50 “Then He said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’ And those who sat at the table with Him began to say to themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’ Then He said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.’”

Luke 8:48 “And He said to her, ‘Daughter, be of good cheer; your faith has made you well. Go in peace.’”

Romans 5:1 “Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ,”

Philippians 4:6-7 “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”

I love the connection between faith and peace. Jesus could have told those two women in Luke, “Go in joy”, or “Go in love”, but he said, “Go in peace”. They had trusted in the correct Object, the Son of God, and this always leads to peace, first peace with God, and then the peace of God.

When I rested alone in the work of Jesus Christ, who died in my place on the cross and rose again, I was immediately accepted by God in his Son. God’s wrath no longer hangs over my head; I am his child and we are at peace. I am justified, declared righteous, in his sight.

That initial faith for my eternal salvation paves the way for the peace of God to rule in my heart moment by moment. I have a choice to trust in Jesus Christ every second of the day, to believe he is all-sufficient – to know that his grace and power are enough to handle my life. When I am trusting in an alternative object, whether it be me or some other person, there is anxiety, discontentment, and strife. When I am relying on my Savior, there is ALWAYS peace, a tranquility of heart due to confidence in the One who took care of my biggest problem – sin – on the cross, and who is capable of taking care of anything I face. That peace indeed “surpasses all understanding”, no matter what difficulties and trials are swirling around me.