Category Archives: Scripture

Hagar – A study in pain and joy

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Scripture

Journal 2003

I have a story to share if you care to listen. It might help you if you find yourself in a jam like I did. You see, I worked one time for a very wealthy man. Actually, I was his wife Sarah’s slave. It was traumatic at first, being separated from my home and family at such a tender age. Memories of Egypt still haunt me daily. It was hard getting used to new food, strange customs, and slavery. I cried aloud for the first week, and in my heart for the first year, but eventually I adjusted to the fact that I’d never see my mother again. After Dad died, we just couldn’t keep food on the table, and I offered to sell myself to some traders rather than become a further burden to my mom. Sometimes I regret the decision. Perhaps I should have stayed and helped take care of her.

Anyway, back to my story. As I was going to say, being a black slave woman to a wealthy family isn’t all bad. My mistress seemed to enjoy my company; I got all the food I could eat and the luxury of a place to lay my head at night in comfort and protection. Abram was a kind man, usually pretty fair, but sometimes I wondered about his relationship with my mistress.

I mean, take the time he claimed she was his sister. A half-truth for sure! But isn’t a half-truth the same as a whole lie? Even my mom taught me that! I’ll admit Sarah was gorgeous, even at her age. No wonder Abram was attracted to her, but sometimes I wonder what he saw in her. Ok, maybe that’s not entirely fair either. She did show me favor—probably because I kept my mouth shut and did what she told me without complaining. It was easier that way. Hmm. Maybe that’s how she felt. No way out, just give in. But I think if I’d been in her position, I would have stood my ground and refused to go along with the lie. But then, maybe that’s why he liked her—she kowtowed to him. On the other hand . . . but here I am getting ahead of myself again. I could tell you a lot about the inside scoop on them, but this is my story, so here’s what happened.

Sarah wanted a baby, and she wanted it BAD, but nothing was happening. By the time I came along, she was too old to have a child. The trouble was, she claimed that Abram had heard from his God that she was supposed to have gotten pregnant, and here she was well into menopause! I kinda felt sorry for her at this point. But then something snapped in her. She decided if SHE couldn’t have a baby, then she’d just have to get one another way. And that’s where I come in.

Now I have to tell you—Sarah may have been beautiful, but I was quite a looker myself! I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve got eyes. I saw the way the young men looked at me while I worked. Anyway, imagine my surprise the day Sarah pulled me aside and told me to wash carefully and put on my best robe. Then she gave me some of her most expensive oils to rub on my body. You should have seen my ebony skin shine! While another servant girl brushed out my long hair to begin the corn rows, Sarah informed me this was my wedding day!

Excuse me?! Now I know that slaves have no say in the matter, but couldn’t she have at least given me some warning? I hoped it was Ami, that handsome hunk of a sheep herder that brought the daily ration of meat to Sarah’s tent every morning. But get this—you’re not going to believe it—she finally informed me my new husband would be Abram himself! I nearly choked!

I’ll skip all the hairy scary details, but you can guess what happened. Before long I was pregnant with his kid. Now what? My mistress kept looking at me like I’d done something wrong. Like it was my fault! Who did she think she was? I didn’t ask for this. I must admit it was kinda neat carrying a child inside me, however, and really Abram had been nothing but gentle with me, albeit a little aloof. But I was still a slave. Not much had changed. I rather had hoped my status would be elevated somehow. I suspect the poor lady was jealous. Sigh. Served her right, I guess.

Anyway, I had to laugh the day Sarah claimed that Abram was “responsible for the wrong she was suffering.” Huh? The nerve of her! Claimed I was despising her. Pretty soon she was making my life so miserable, I decided the only choice was to run away, and so I did.

I slipped out in the night after the two of them were in bed and headed down the road to Shur. I knew if I could just make it to the spring in the desert, I’d be safe. Maybe sell myself to one of the traders there. After all, a pregnant slave is two for the price of one.

But then BLAM! I had this incredible experience! Ever seen an angel? I hadn’t. Can’t even tell you how I knew it was an angel, but this was not the product of an overactive imagination. First, he asked me where I’d come from and where I was going. I told him I was running away from my mistress because she was mistreating me. Blew me away when he said I had to go back and submit to that woman! But somehow it seemed okay after he assured me that God had heard of my misery, and I was to bear a son. He even said to name him Ishmael (“God hears.”) Imagine that! I decided to name the place “Beer Lahai Roi” meaning “You are the God Who sees me.”

He told me some other stuff, too, about how Ishmael would turn out, and surprise surprise, that’s exactly what happened! Wow! That’s another reason I know he was an angel. Anyway, I agreed to go back to Sarah, and when Abram was 86 years old, I gave birth to Ishmael. You should have seen Abram’s face! He was ecstatic. But Sarah? Well, we’d stayed on uneasy terms, but I managed to keep my mouth shut. I just kept remembering the angel’s promise, and it kept me going.

Now I gotta skip a few years to get to the next part. Ishmael was about 14 years old when the miracle happened. Remember I told you about how Abram’s God had promised him a baby? Well, hold onto your hat—it actually happened! Really! It was weird seeing old Sarah getting bigger and bigger carrying that child. And I started to fret. If she carried this baby to full term, that meant my Ishmael could lose his favor with his father. Abram had grown to love Ishmael, and though my son was still a slave, he treated him almost like a son. Well, he WAS his son, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, my fears were soon realized. Isaac was doted on and pampered and made such a huge fuss of, it was nauseating. Things came to a head the day of the big party. Sarah was planning a feast for the day Isaac was weaned. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I opened my big mouth and told her to her face what I thought of her.

That did it. She went bawling to Abram and demanded he “do something about that slave woman and her son.” What could he do? He had to side with his wife and his real son. I knew he didn’t want to do it, and it really did distress him, but early the next morning, he slipped into my tent. He placed on my shoulder some food and a skin of water and sent us on our way.

Now I have to tell you, I hit a new low. First it was the grief of losing my dad; then the sorrow of leaving my mom and my country behind. Next, it was enduring slavery followed by being given in marriage to someone I didn’t love, only to be mistreated by his first wife. Putting up with that woman for 17 years was the biggest trial of my life. But being thrown out on my ear by the man who’d shown me kindness felt like the ultimate betrayal. What was I to do now? I was getting too old to be bought at full price, and if anyone saw Ishmael, we’d be separated for sure. We’d have to stay away from the trade routes.

My thoughts were driving me crazy. I didn’t pay attention to where we were going, but Ishmael didn’t seem too worried. He was free at last, he claimed. We walked and walked and walked in the desert until neither of us could take another step. Pretty soon our food ran out, and then our water. Shall I describe for you what it’s like to run out of water in the desert? It’s not a pretty sight. When I finally woke up to the fact that we couldn’t survive out there, it was too late. We didn’t have any energy left to make our way back. Ishmael had fainted with the heat. I dragged him to the only bush in the area and then crawled away from him so I wouldn’t have to watch him die. Talk about reaching the end of one’s rope!

I lay there panting and sobbing. What had I done to deserve this? How could I have handled myself differently? What had I done wrong? Where was that God that Abram claimed kept talking to him? I covered my ears. I could hear Ishmael sobbing, and I didn’t even have the energy to comfort him. I started to hallucinate. Terrified, I thought I saw an angel standing there. Was it time to die?

Then I heard, “What is the matter, Hagar? Don’t be afraid.” A feeling of strength began to spread through my body. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Go over and lift the boy up and take him by the hand, because God is going to make him into a great nation.” And then I swear on my father’s grave that this is what happened next. A well appeared right beside me. I quickly lowered my water skin and ran to give Ishmael a drink. He started to revive, sat up and hugged me. And the rest is history.

We made it to the next oasis, and there I found peace at last. Ishmael grew up to become a skilled desert archer. He’s a wild donkey of a man and at odds with everyone. He seems to be carrying a lot of anger in his heart over what happened to us. But me? I spend my days taking care of his little ones. Oh, did I forget to mention? I found a wife for him from guess where? Egypt, where else! My mom had something to do with that, but that’s another story.

And so, you see, when you think you’re done for, when life hands you what you don’t think you deserve, when you’re all alone or angry or sad, there’s a way out. “You are the God Who sees me.” Truly He does!

God’s Job

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Scripture

Journal 2017

I [Paul] planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase. So then neither he who plants is anything, nor he who waters, but God who gives the increase. (I Corinthians 3:5-9 NKJV)

Several days a week as a senior in high school, I bicycled through an industrial park to arrive at my first-ever job at an aerosol packaging plant. On the way home, I felt compelled to stop and share my faith with anyone who would listen. It was my duty to obey God’s command to fulfill the Great Commission, and I wanted no one’s blood on my head.

All my life I had heard guilt-grip preaching for not evangelizing, testifying, and making disciples. It was always about me, what I’d done or not done for the kingdom. And more often than not, it was driven by fleshly works—fear, pride, and “shoulds.”

I can plant, but I didn’t make the seed. I can water, but I didn’t make the rain. And I certainly have nothing to do with the plant bursting forth into life and growing.

I can hear the “buts” arising. If I hadn’t planted or watered, would there have been a chance for life to sprout?

I have one job in life and one only: love God with all my heart and love others. My responsibility ends where His command ends. He didn’t tell me personally to plant or to water. He told me to be an agent of healing. I cannot heal. But I can point people to Jesus and introduce them to the Healer.

“Each one will receive his own reward according to his own labor” (v. 8).

A 2024 Update: Questioning what we were taught in childhood is a healthy exercise, especially when life’s experiences don’t match those words. Throwing away every word, however, is not necessarily helpful. Evangelism and discipleship training is important, and we all must be ready to give a testimony for what God has done in our lives. My struggle to shed the shoulds, however, led me to a deeper understanding of how God wired me and what He has called me to do with my time here on earth.

A Genesis Parable, Part 2

Posted on by under Choices, God, Scripture

I got to thinking about all the fun God must have had creating the world, and I saw a visual of my three girls building a dollhouse together, placing it on their little blue table, and forming little people (LP) to inhabit the dollhouse. The miniature figures might resemble their creators, but they are a far cry from Sharon, Cindy, and Katie who tower over their creation. My girls are living, breathing, intricate beings. Their dolls are lifeless, crude in comparison, tiny. When the girls tire of moving the pieces around, they decide to breathe life into them. But no longer can they control and manipulate the Little People because now they have a mind of their own!

[Side note: When one of our clients asked God the heart-wrenching question, “Why did you let my perpetrator hurt me?” Jesus’ response was: “He had free will. But he could only do so much. I sent angels to protect you from further danger and keep you from death.”]

Part 2

One Little Person, head down, is about to step off the table ledge. So, the girls gently blow on the LP, and he looks up, notices the danger, and turns away. But another LP comes to the edge, ignores the breath above her, and in determination and stubbornness to overcome the “obstacle,” steps over the edge and into “eternal destruction.”

[Side note. One client asked, “Why was there a breach in the wall of protection at the mission boarding school?” (Other staff didn’t see or stop the abuse). Jesus’ chilling answer: “Someone failed to pray, and there was also someone failing to listen.”]

Another LP takes off running and is about to trip over a log. Cindy reaches down and quickly moves the log out of the way. But the person is oblivious to her benefactor’s deed and never looks up to give thanks or acknowledge her creators’ hands. Another LP, who is aware of the girls, looks up, recognizes the source of the rescue, and gives thanks.

But the favorite Little Person of all three girls is “Dolly.” She not only knows that K & C and S exist and are involved in her life in the dollhouse, but she lifts their arms for hugs when the girls gently pick her up and hold her and cuddle and rock her. She responds to their love, and the girls giggle and smile with pleasure.

[Do I delight in my Savior? Does He delight in me?]

Photo by Polesie Toys on Pexels.com

Was Paul Codependent?

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Scripture

Journal 2017

I call God as my witness . . . that it was in order to spare you that I did not return to Corinth. (2 Corinthians 1:23-2:4 NIV)

If the Apostle Paul had shown up in my counseling office, I wonder what I would have said to him? He says he chose not to return to Corinth “in order to spare them.” But it sounds more like he was protecting his heart. He claims he stayed away from the Corinthians out of love for them, but in the same breath he admits: So I made up my mind that I would not make another painful visit to you. For if I grieve you, who is left to make me glad but you whom I have grieved? In psychological jargon, we’d say this was a codependent statement.

This giant in the faith, who faced torture and rejection and beatings and jail time and hardships and the burden of fulfilling God’s call on his life had triggers a-plenty. Why am I surprised? In other passages, he freely admits his short-comings, inadequacies, struggles, and fears.

I’ve been taught that Paul’s writings were inspired (not doubting that) but I think most of my life I’ve also been taught that, as a result, everything he states is truth. But was Paul being true to his own heart? Was he really staying away because he loved the Corinthians . . . or was he protecting his own pain? We don’t know of course. We only know his words.

Now . . . maybe it was wisdom to stay away—why go where he’d be rejected? But that never stopped Paul before. Why does it bother me to think that Paul MIGHT be triggered? Or does it bother me that I’m questioning his heart?

All Scripture is inspired, but not all Scripture is instruction. Sometimes it’s history. II Corinthians is a letter—it records what Paul wrote to a specific group of believers in a specific time period. It was instruction to THEM.

Here’s where discernment is necessary. How do we know what was divine doctrine vs. a reflection on local culture? Who gets to decide? Some sects of Christianity wear hats or head coverings. They want to obey the Scriptures in all things. But others believe wearing a head covering was a cultural issue and doesn’t make one spiritual.

What about instructions to Timothy? Qualifications for a pastor preclude women being in leadership (or do they?) Is that God-ordained or cultural? Who gets to decide? If we release all outward show or behavior as a non-issue and listen only to the heart, does that answer the question: it’s not whether male or female is in charge but where the heart is? [NOTE: check out Bill Rudd’s book Should Women Be Pastors or Leaders in the Church? Very insightful!]

I’ve been taught the New Testament as law and less about heart. Rules to follow instead of relationship. Does that make everyone a law unto themselves? Where do we draw the line between biblical mandate and godly principle?

Apparently the Corinthians were living in sin, full of factions, and accusatory of Paul being boastful, having no authority, and being a burden to them. Much of this letter is self-defense on Paul’s part. He ranges from sarcasm to humility.

We (or I) have placed Paul on a high pedestal of sainthood, like he could do no wrong after his conversion. He’s earned our respect for his position, perseverance, and persecution. But I’ve never heard anyone preach about his character flaws. Paul’s defensive self is in full battle gear in this letter. You can feel the anger and hurt from the Corinthians’ false accusations. Does my respect for Paul slip just a little as I read this letter? Or should I excuse and defend him for what he says?

Should Paul have defended his position as an Apostle? Did he have a right to confront the Corinthians about their sin? Of course. But Paul was not perfect. His choleric nature is showing. I’m curious if his letter convicted them or shamed them or made them dig their heels in even deeper?

What would this letter have sounded like if Paul had dealt with his hurt before responding? Would it have had the same impact on the Corinthians? Self-defense can be idolatry. It is substituting self for God. But does God forgive us? Of course! Our sin is under the blood. But there is a better way—let God be our defense. God can use my hurts and my defenses to accomplish His perfect will. But if I have a choice (and I do), I’d choose His defense over mine and healing of the hurt over carrying the wound around in my heart.

So, here’s a question: if someone wrongs me, should I confront them? Do I need to? Or can I deal with my hurt and overlook the wrong done? If I’m at peace, my motive for the confrontation changes. Then it becomes not about protecting my pain but about what is best for the other person.

It’s really hard to be reasonable when one is triggered. So how does it look to others when MY triggers show? Do they offer me grace? I hope so. And, in turn, may I be gracious when I see others triggered. I guess I can cut Paul some slack if he’s a little codependent.

Do Right!

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Scripture

Journal 2017

How do I respond when someone is furious with me—especially when I know I have made the right decision?

Amaziah, King of Judah (the Southern Kingdom), hired 100,000 soldiers from Israel (the Northern Kingdom), to help him fight a war (II Chronicles 25:6-10).

But a man of God told King Amaziah he needed to let the mercenaries go, for God was not with the Northern Kingdom, and “If they go with you, you’ll lose the battle.”

“But what about the 100 talents I already paid them?” the king asked.

“Not to worry,” said the man of God. “God is able to more than make it up to you.” And so Amaziah dismissed these soldiers.

Surprisingly, the mercenaries “were furious with Judah and went home in a great rage.” They’d be paid whether they fought or not, so what was the big deal? Apparently they’d lose out on the percentages from the spoils. So, in retaliation, they “raided towns belonging to Judah . . . and they killed three thousand people and carried off great quantities of plunder” (v.13).

But Amaziah stood his ground and stayed on God’s side. Good for him! No codependence there! He obeyed God in spite of man’s response.

BUT the story doesn’t end well.

Sadly, Amaziah brought home idols among the spoils of war and began to worship them. And God was furious. (I think I’d rather have man furious at me than God!)

Next, God sent a prophet to Amaziah to tell him to quit it, but Amaziah told him to shut up or he’d kill him. And so, the prophet shut up—after this one last warning: “God will destroy you.”

Now for some reason, Amaziah invited Joash (the Northern king), to join him on the battlefield, but Joash scoffed: “Your victory over the enemy has gone to your head! Stay in your palace!”

Verse 20 (NET) intrigues me: “But Amaziah did not heed the warning [why did he obey God the first time, but not the second?], for God wanted to hand them over to Joash because they followed the gods of Edom.”

God WANTED Amaziah to go to war with the Edomites (enemies) and He WANTED Amaziah to go to war with Israel (fellow Jews), but for different reasons—one to destroy and one to be destroyed. God’s choice versus man’s choice. Check and checkmate.

Sometimes God uses man to accomplish His purposes. He could have simply killed Amaziah on the spot, but He used his bad choice in order to get the job done.

This story is an amazing illustration of Romans 8:28. God will make everything right in the end, somehow weaving in man’s choices for good or for ill to accomplish His purposes. But I’d rather do right, every time!

Casting Crowns

Posted on by under Scripture

Journal 2017

The idea of us casting crowns at Jesus’ feet has always disturbed me a little. My visual is of God handing me a reward for a job well done (like a piece of candy for doing a chore or a trophy for winning a race), but as soon as He gives me this prize, I have to hand it right back again and not get to keep it!

I realize how skewed this childhood picture is in my mind. First of all, in the book of Revelation, the ones doing the casting are the 24 elders. Somehow the church has generalized this to all believers. And second, the crown, I believe, is not a reward but a position. Giving someone else a crown signifies yielding authority to someone else.

I get to keep the reward that I earned. I always thought I was a bad Christian for not wanting to give Jesus my earned crown. Silly me.

Grandma and Jackson

Making Decisions While Triggered

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Scripture

Journal 2017

I’ve learned the hard way, it’s never wise to do or say something while I’m triggered. Inevitably, the words come out harsher than planned, and I make poor decisions, making matters worse. The consequences for my reactions sometimes lead to further bad choices. What a mess to clean up!

After the 12 Israelite spies returned from the land of Canaan, 10 of the spies were triggered. And in their fearful emotions, they made some foolish statements: Wouldn’t it be better for us to return to Egypt? Let’s appoint a leader and return to Egypt. (Numbers 14:3-4) Are they crazy! Leave the protection of their God? Return to the Pharoah who hates them? They’re out of their minds—literally—with fear.

Upon hearing of their punishment from God (to wander in the desert for 40 years), the 10 spies decided to go out on their own and attack the scary Amalakites. They left camp without the Lord’s direction—and perished. How foolish!

What would have happened if they had worked through their fear before opening their mouths to Moses? No wandering in the desert for 40 years. No trail of decaying bodies. And yet . . . God was able to turn even their triggers into something good. God’s will cannot be thwarted.

You are free to choose; you are not free to choose the consequences of your choices. (Samuel Thomas)

Why Do Godly Men Differ?

Posted on by under Choices, Scripture

Journal 2017

Acts chapter 15 records controversy, conflict, disputes, and confusion between the Apostles, the Pharisees, the Gentiles, and the church elders. They debated the need for circumcision, rules for the Gentiles, and John Mark’s role in service. How could there be disagreement when they had the same Holy Spirit to teach them? We’re not talking different temperaments here or even systems or culture. Truth is truth . . . or is it? Either Gentiles needed to be circumcised or they didn’t. Does this mean that one person or group was not hearing correctly from God? Does it mean that Paul and Barnabas were triggered? Who wasn’t listening to God?

I think struggle is necessary for growth. I feel inner conflict all the time, and if I don’t take the time to connect with God, I can come up with some strange conclusions. But maybe we are like plants. God sows different seeds, and our beauty is in our diversity.

Feasting and Fasting

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Peace, Scripture

2009 Journal.

Once more as we stuff the turkey, open the can of cranberry sauce, and bake the pies, I wonder if this Thanksgiving feast is a waste of our money. Could we not choose to eat simply and give that money to the poor? Do I need to feel guilty over our indulgence? Christmas can also be tricky. Should we give all our gifts to charity? Always? No, I don’t think so. Should we spend all on ourselves? Again, no, that wouldn’t be right either. Somewhere there’s a balance.

There is a time and place for feasting as well as fasting. God commanded and scheduled Jewish feast days. In Luke 6, Jesus is caught attending a party, a feast, and His disciples are accused of not fasting like the Pharisees.

When you’re celebrating a wedding, you don’t skimp on the cake and wine. You feast. Later you may need to pull in your belt, but this isn’t the time. As long as the bride and groom are with you, you have a good time. When the groom is gone, the fasting can begin. (From The Message)

We need permission to feast.

We need persistence to fast.

Hiding Who We Are

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Inner Healing, Motherhood, Peace, Scripture

Journal 2017

In the Good Friday service tonight, I saw a visual of a thin waif. As we partook of the elements of communion, I shared them with her and she revived.

“Who is this, Lord?” I asked.

“She’s the young mom you were, trying to raise your daughters, mistakes and all. You’ve not been kind to that self.”

And as we sang, I helped the waif nail her shame, chains, and guilt, regrets, disappointments and should-haves to the cross, and I forgave her for being “less than.”

Looking back, I wonder how different I would have been as a wife and mom had I known then what I know now. I would have stayed more present, rather than hiding my true self. I kept her safe and hidden for almost 20 years, and another 10 before she fully came back to life.

I can hide parts of my heart from myself or from others or even try to hide them from God. But God knows each part intimately and wants connection with each one.

Check out these verses on hiddenness.

Times are not hidden from the Almighty (Job 24:1 KJV).

Thou desirest truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom (Psalm 51:6 KJV).

And God who knows the heart . . . (Acts 15:8 ESV).

Reflection of myself, 1978