Ryan's Ramblings

a glance at god

 

The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one-of-a-kind glory, like Father, like Son, generous inside and out, true from start to finish.

(John 1:14, MSG)

 

It was my privilege over the past four years to teach university students in the content area of teacher training and education. My classes met early (8:00 a.m.) each day, and before launching into the learning objective, I would kick off the session with a glance at God.

Since most college students consider 8:00 a.m. to be a most “un-godly” hour, I quickly realized that I needed to be brief and creative with my devotional thoughts. Because of this, the glance at God was realized in various ways:  a brief meditation on Scripture, thinking and talking about a quote, reflecting on poetry and even . . . watching music videos.

There was one video that I showed each semester that never failed to elicit a response from the students. After class, or via email, I would hear things like: “Thanks for sharing that video,” “I needed that,” “That helped me,” and “I heard from God this morning.”

The music video (below) is a good one. It addresses how we are inclined to see the flaws in ourselves and the world around us through a lens of failure, regret, disillusion, struggle, disappointment and loss, and yet God sees things, and us, differently.

Through His love, grace, and the cross of Christ, we are flawless. He wants our attention and is always available—early morning, late at night, all day, every day.

Give God a glance today. You might hear from Him—even through a music video.

 

 

Autumn Hope . . . a poem

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Autumn Hope

by Ryan M. Roberts

Autumn leaves flame out as they make their descent 

through the cool harvest air.

Their brilliant colors wane under foot;

    broken and crushed into the darkening earth below.

Yet even in death they yield a harvest.

Hidden in winter depths, their embers glow;

waiting,

    fueling hope,

expectant for the spark of new life.

 

- Isaiah 55:8-9 -

all in, all the time — one long obedient response

Yesterday I slipped away from school for a couple of hours and attended and participated in Volney Johnson’s funeral. It was a grand occasion, celebrating a life well-lived and remembering an amazing man for the Lord. He lived for 95 years. He was a man of prayer and loving boldness in sharing the Lord with those around him.

As his granddaughters stood and shared memories about him in the memorial service, I heard a recurring theme:

"Grandpa was all in, all the time. He was at our games, teaching us to do things, working with us on chores, always present—physically and relationally, spending time, giving attention, speaking life."

I guess the adage is true,

that "children, and grandchildren, spell love, t-i-m-e."

What a powerful testimony his life was. What a challenge and inspiration it is to me. With thoughts of Volney on my mind this morning, I was captured by these words in Ps. 119: 28-32, MSG,

[Dear God}

. . . build me up again by your Word.

Barricade the road that goes Nowhere;

grace me with your clear revelation.

 

I grasp and cling to whatever you tell me . . .

 

I’ll run the course you lay out for me . . .

just show me how.

 

[Help me to] stay the course . . .

my whole life one long, obedient response.

Volney’s life, although not influential and powerful from the standpoint of the world, was and is, a shining star in God’s economy. He ran the course for Jesus, his whole life one long, obedient response.

God help me.

I thank God for Volney Johnson.

do the math, the "new" math

Lately,  my journey finds me standing in front of Fifth Graders teaching things like Social Studies, Reading, Science, Writing and the “new Math.”

This morning I awoke with story problems on my mind that needed solving—they were life problems, not Math problems.  But then in my Bible reading this morning I encountered both life and Math problems too . . . and I found the answer.

Many times over the last few weeks I have said to my students, “Please show your work and share and discuss the results with your neighbor.”

So, here you go, this is how I did the work and where I found the answer:

Man as such is smoke,

    woman as such, a mirage.

Put them together, they’re nothing;

    two times nothing is nothing.

 

And a windfall, if it comes—

    don’t make too much of it.

 

God said this once and for all;

    how many times

Have I heard it repeated?

    “Strength comes

Straight from God.” (Psalm 62:9-11, MSG)

 Where is my hope and help? Is it in men, women, institutions, programs and people? Yes—at times those things are significant and helpful, but also temporal. They are real for a moment, and then gone.

What about a windfall, easy money, the big break? Surely, therein is the answer? Nope. It’s all nice, but not the answer. (Remember 2008?)

. . . two times nothing is nothing.

The psalmist has done the Math and has found a different solution—strength, help, and life, come “Straight from God.”

We are so inclined to look elsewhere; to rely on opportunities, to hopefully “win the lottery,” but in the end our grasping and clutching hands are left empty. We try to move the numbers around, change up our routines and tweak the formula, but as Aslan says, “There is no other stream.”

Where is your hope when the numbers don’t add up?

Do the math, the “new” math.

Look to the One that leaves the 99 for the 1, multiplies 7 loaves and 2 fish into a meal for thousands, and gives the life of His 1 and only son for the world (billions).

Life, like Math, is full of problems to be solved. Where are you looking for help and answers?

“Strength comes straight from God.” (Ps. 62:11, MSG)

all in for God . . . or not — you choose

Joshua 24:14-15, NIV

“Now fear the Lord and serve him with all faithfulness. Throw away the gods your ancestors worshiped beyond the Euphrates River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”

***

In my journey through the Bible this year I read the last chapter of the book of Joshua the other day and was surprised again (and again, and again, and again) at how the people of Israel received so much help and care from the Lord and yet, they continued to abide self-centeredness and other gods in their lives. Sadly, those fickle folks sound a lot like the guy staring back at me from the mirror each morning.

In chapter 24 I find Joshua at the end of his journey, on the doorstep of death, and his last words to the nation of Israel were: either go all in for God or get out—choose now. The choice he offered Israel so long ago is the same choice that he offers to the man in the mirror today.

Whom will you fear? . . . and subsequently serve?

The term “fear” in this case is the giving of reverence, power, influence and attention to someone or something in our lives. What we fear demands, and usually gets, our attention. Fear calls the shots.

Joshua tells fearful Israel—the nation of people that he had just led into the Promised Land (the unknown)—that he and his family were all in for the one and only, Almighty God. Yes, times were tough, challenges were innumerable, confusion was rampant and fear, in all its forms, was clamoring for their attention (a reaction), but Joshua and his clan were going to “choose” their response and that choice was to fear, revere and serve the Lord in their hearts and lives.

Every morning that I am privileged to get out of bed and gaze at myself in the mirror (yipes) I am confronted with fear. But beyond the bald spots, gray hair, wrinkles, stiff joints, worries, obligations and responsibilities, I have a choice, "Whom or what will I fear, and subsequently serve today?"

My answer is Jesus Christ.

How about you? You choose.

In Memory of Tom Cuffe (my father-in-law)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.

(1 Thessalonians 4:13-14, NIV)

On Wednesday, June 6, 2018, my father-in-law, Tom Cuffe, went to live with Jesus. Notice, I didn’t say to “be with Jesus,” because for the thirty-one years that I have known Tom he has been with Jesus, following him faithfully every day of his life.

This morning, Tom’s kids found the following quote written in his handwriting on the inside cover of his well-worn Bible:

You are writing each day a letter to men, take care that the writing is true. For the only gospel some men will read is the gospel according to you.

                                           –Author Unknown

I know from observation that Tom took this quote to heart. He loved well his wife, children, grandchildren, family, friends, strangers, enemies and even . . . son-in-laws.

He lived by the Ten Commandments and by the law of Love that emanates from the “Old Rugged Cross” of Jesus Christ.  

As the family gathered around Tom’s bed last night and cried at his passing, I just know that he heard from the Lord these words,

“Tom when I read over the letter of your life, it looks a lot like Jesus. Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

The picture above is one I took a couple of years ago as Tom made his way into one of his favorite places, The Cedars, in Glacier Park, Montana. Looking at it now it causes me to think of Tom making his entrance into Heaven, but on this side of things I see through a glass darkly.

In light of Jesus, the one who died and rose again, the picture I took transforms: the trees explode in beauty and give Tom a standing ovation upon his entrance into Heaven, the walker he leans upon falls away, his back straightens and his wobbly totter is traded for the smooth and lively step that he is known for when dancing with Carol, his bride of sixty years.

Surrounded by friends and family, Dina's father passed away at 9:20 p.m. yesterday. He was my father-in-law. I already miss his coy little smile and the twinkle in his eye.

We all miss him, and we grieve his passing, but not as those who have no hope.

“I can’t believe that I am graduating in just a few days. It went so fast.”

 

This moment contains all moments.

     ―C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

 

 

 

The other day I taught my final Senior Seminar class of the semester. With the end of the school year in sight it is interesting to hear college students say things like, “I can’t believe that my student teaching experience is almost over,” or “I can’t believe that I am graduating in just a few days. It went so fast." 

It went so fast? Really?

Student teaching generally comes at the end of an Education Major’s college experience and is sixteen grueling weeks of early mornings and late nights, scores of assignments and hundreds of lesson plans. It is the culmination of the four-year experience that is known as college.

Four years . . . and it went so fast?

Completing student teaching and graduating from college are significant occasions in life, hurdles to clear and milestones to achieve.  They represent those challenges that exist as big, scary, anxiety-laden question marks, that in the moment, we just want to “get through” or “be done with.”

But then suddenly, much to our surprise, they are just that . . . done.

When the goal is achieved and the challenge is behind us, we are left with the experience, the fun, the friendships, the memories—and the sense that it all went so fast.

It is times like these that resonate with the psalmist’s ominous words, “Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath!” (Ps. 39:5, ESV)

A mere breath? Is there really such a thing? A breath is a small, brief and passing event, but oh so important.

Google says that the average person takes 24,000 breaths per day.  That is a lot of breaths, surely more than enough, you would think. But try holding your breath for a minute and you soon realize that every breath counts.

Breaths happen quickly, numerously and without notice. But the brief second that a breath takes does not lessen its value or importance.

Much like breaths in the midst of breathing, the moments of life, albeit meaningful, slip away subtly, silently and unnoticed. Our adventures, struggles, experiences, emotions and relationships are nuanced through things like perspective and hindsight and then meld and morph into a nostalgic longing we refer to as, “the good old days.”

Its ironic, but even the young long for the good old days. Andy, from The Office, says it well, “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.”

Regardless of whether it happened last month, last year, or a decade ago—as we reflect back on those good old days, we find ourselves saying of life, “It went so fast.”

It is here that we experience a mix of melancholy and regret—a feeling that something significant happened and yet, we missed it.

But we didn’t miss it, we lived it. Or did we?

This quandary leads me to the prayer of Moses in Psalm 90. In vs. 10 he reflects back on his life and says,

The length of our days is seventy years—

or eighty, if we have the strength;

yet their span is but trouble and sorrow,

for they quickly pass, and we fly away.

His words are startling. Moses spent forty years shepherding goats in anonymity and then another forty years wandering the desert with God’s people. Over his 120 year life span, he was a prince, a leader, a prophet and a deliverer. He was married, had children and grandchildren, took a stand against evil, stood on Holy ground, and walked and talked with God.

Moses lived a long, full and storied life, and yet we find him looking back with a sigh saying, “Wow, it went so fast.”

If he felt that way, what hope do we have?

But then, two verses later (vs. 12), we find in Moses’s prayer the answer to this dilemma,

Teach us to number our days aright,

that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

What does it mean to “gain a heart of wisdom”?

Wisdom comes from God. It is the good, helpful, guiding, life-giving way to act, think and live. It is God’s mind and the Holy Spirit’s prompting in our being and doing. It’s the way to live well, appreciate what matters most and take nothing for granted—not even a single breath.

Maybe gaining a “heart of wisdom” is liken to knowing you are in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.

And how do we gain this heart of wisdom?

Moses prays, “Teach us to number our days aright”.

To “number our days” is to recognize the immense value in the current moment. Upon this writing, the calendar tells me that today’s date is Wednesday, May 2, 2018. This date on the calendar is so much more than a number. There has never been a May 2, 2018, and there never will be again. Yesterday (the past) is gone and there is no guarantee of tomorrow (the future).  Today (the present) is all each of us have, and another word for present, is gift. Each day is a gift.

God holds the gift of a day in high esteem. So much so that He initiates each one with hope, forgiveness and love. His mercies are new every morning and are as breathtaking and life-giving as a sunrise. God gives us sustenance for each day’s journey. He feeds our body and soul with “daily” bread—with Jesus, who is our “hidden manna” (Rev. 2:17). And as we journey, God goes with us. On the path of life, we are to rely upon God and the Holy Spirit, moving and breathing in us, as we live every minute of the day.

David Roper says, “Time flies and so do we.” This is a hard truth that should cause us to live mindfully and carefully.

To “number our days aright” is to live them well and with purpose, and that begins with loving God and loving those around us. When we do this we can savor those moments, relationships and experiences that fly by so quickly.

Days and breaths are too numerous to count, but both are so important. Don't wish them away or waste them. Number them aright, not by counting them, but rather, by making them count.

For you can be sure that the day, the event, the challenge, the goal, the dream, and even the four-year college experience, will be over and done with before you know it, and you will find yourself saying,

“I can’t believe that I am graduating in just a few days. It went so fast.”

 

A dried up creek bed or a river of living water—which will I be?

 

You are the look on Christ’s face. You are the tone of his voice. You are the touch of his hands. —Paul Tripp.

 

 

 

The phrase, “as undependable as intermittent streams,” jumped out at me from my daily Bible reading.  Actually, it did more than jump. 

It described me.

The line comes from the center of Job 6:14-17 (NIV) where Job is responding to the way he is being treated by those around him, most notably, his “friends.”

A despairing man should have the devotion of his friends,

   even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.

But my brothers are as undependable as intermittent streams,

    as the streams that overflow

when darkened by thawing ice

    and swollen with melting snow,

but that stop flowing in the dry season,

    and in the heat vanish from their channels.

Job is struggling. He has endured great loss and disappointment in life. He is in the depths of despair, so much so that he is engaging in the unthinkable—he is questioning and doubting God.

Right or wrong, Job is in need. He doesn’t want answers, guidance, correction, sympathy, pity, or opinion from those around him. All he wants and needs is a little kindness.

But Job’s friends are fickle. In season they gush and out of season they sear.  At Job’s point of need they are nothing but undependable, dried up streams.

And like I said, this described me.

Kindness is an exception in our world today. It is so extraordinary that movies are being made about it (e.g., Same Kind of Different as Me and Wonder). Why is it such an anomaly? Why is it so hard for us to exude? Why is kindness the last thing on our minds and in our hearts as we go about life?

The news feeds are full of finger-pointing, finding fault, assigning blame and . . . being right.  In the midst of it all, kindness is scarce. Being right is good, and doing right is even better, but how we get there is most important.

Being right and doing right should never be realized through pride, sarcasm, a mean-sprit, a judgmental attitude or a harsh word. And if by chance we are right, it does not necessitate that we also “make a point,” and a strong one at that.

Even when it comes to the things of God, things that we feel strongly about, the gravitas of an issue never supersedes a kind response and interaction with another. In instances of correction and discipline it is feared that kindness will be misconstrued as a condoning of the undesired choices or behaviors, but this is a lie. Kindness is never out of place.

Christians can be right, but if we are not kind, we are wrong.       

                                —Sean Palmer, Unarmed Empire

Kindness emanates from the very heart of God. It is listed as a fruit of the Spirit—one of the key characteristics and evidences of God in this world. It is a means by which God calls people unto salvation.

“God's kindness is meant to lead you to repentance” (Romans 2:4, ESV).

Kindness is what we see in the life of Jesus as he touches lepers, welcomes sinners and loves the unlovely. Even on the cross, in the face of extreme injustice, kindness imbues Jesus’ words, “Father forgive them . . .”

Kindness is a choice, but after years of falling short, I realize that I can’t do it on my own. I need help with this dried up stream that is my heart. So, I look to Jesus, who says,

“Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” (John 7:38, ESV)

A dried up creek bed or a river of living water—which will I be? The difference is life-changing and is made manifest through kindness. If God’s kindness leads us to repentance what might my kindness do?

As a Christ-follower, I am an ambassador. I am the look on Christ’s face, the tone of his voice and the touch of his hand to the world around me. No amount of brow beating, guilt, coercion or shaming will turn a wayward heart, but God’s kindness calls us all home. So what am I to do? 

I will pray for God’s help and heed the words of Henry James,

Three things in human life are important: the first is to be kind; the second is to be kind; and the third is to be kind.

I want this to describe me.

He Is

Andrew Peterson, one of my favorite artists (musician, writer), is coming out with a new album in a few days and the first early release track is titled, "Is He Worthy?" It is drawn from the context of Revelation 5 where at the end (or the beginning?) of all things, all of creation is asking, "Where is the hope?" "In whom do we trust?" "Who is able to save us?" "Who is worthy?"

In music and beautiful lyric Peterson answers these questions:

Is anyone worthy?

Is anyone whole?

Is anyone able to break the seal and open the scroll?

The Lion of Judah, who conquered the grave;

He is David's root and the Lamb who died to ransom the slave.

Is He worthy?

Is He worthy of all blessing and honor and glory?

Is He worthy of this?

He is.

Below is a video of Andrew Peterson singing, "Is He Worthy?"

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today is Leona Roberts' 70th birthday!

To her friends and family she is a fun, crazy, beautiful, passionate, hilarious, talented, caring person who is a joy, a hoot, a gift and a blessing to all.

She is a lady filled with lots of love and compassion for the world around her.  Her love is strong for her Lord, her husband, her kids, her grandkids, her cats and her shoes.

Today we celebrate her!

Happy Birthday Mom. 

I thank God for your life, your love and your faith in God.