What's in a Name?

Heritage is a strange thing. We look in the mirror, and we see our father’s nose, and mother’s eyes. But, what about the deeper things? I have being thinking about my own inheritance from my father. He died twelve years ago; yet, it was not until this week that I could articulate more fully the gifts that he bequeathed to me. That I could do so was only a work of the Heavenly Father and Holy Spirit.

The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." Romans 8:15

 

The Lord has been speaking to me about the spirit of adoption; I call it the spirit of belonging, knowing that one is a daughter or son. The key to this heavenly adoption hinges on an earthly reality: are we our parents’ children? Do we respect and honor them? We learn how to be children in our parents’ household … or not. If not, we will struggle with trusting God to be a perfect Father. We will struggle with the act of submitting to being a child.

 I found it difficult to understand how to honor a father, long-deceased; a necessary step, but daunting, nonetheless.  My father was no more perfect than anyone else’s; he struggled during his life with illness, addictions, and other problems, but God showed me that much of what I take for granted about who I am- the good in me came from my father.

I had an astonishing dad, not in the traditional sense. I lived in a home that valued history. He barely finished high school, but could have taken on any history professor at Harvard on the topics of American presidency and wars.

He loved to cook, and we watched chefs prepare meals. Something, I am sure not too many African-American dads did in the 1980s with their kids. While my mother baked from a recipe, he baked from scratch, often improvising.  Something,  that I still do this day as I cook and bake for over 100 people at the YWAM base.

He also had a lovely singing voice. The fact that I know Marty Robbins, Sam Cooke, Aretha Franklin, Elvis Presley, Bobbie Blue Bland, Janis Joplin, and Johnny Cash is thanks to him. He introduced  me to gospel, rock, folk, early country, blues, and soul. Later, as I studied music, I would add jazz, classical, and international musicians to those genres.

He was a great athletic. He was invited to play professional baseball with a Houston-based team.  Personally, for over decade, I have taught at YMCA, Curves, and other establishments as a fitness instructor. I have been an enthusiastic bicyclist for twenty-five years.

He was preacher although I am not sure how good of a pastor he made.  My handling of the word of God takes its roots from both my mom and dad. I have preaching since I was 18 years old, but devouring the word of God even before then.

He authentically loved children and fathered orphans. I have worked with children since my teens ; I began ministering to see them protected and loved. Through him, I met and learned about other cultures. His life crossed religious, ethnic, racial, and socio-economic lines. My first travels were with him in the car delivering albums to buyers. I have since traveled to over thirty countries. Now, I am in South Africa working with girls who live in impoverished areas because of him.

Much of who I am is because of him today.

When we think of the gifts our fathers give us sometimes we don’t really see clearly until God shines a light. What our are idiosyncrasies? What sets us apart? If you don’t understand or know who you are, think about your father.

Fathered,
MJ

 

"Up, Abba, Up"

Regrets, Naomi had plenty of them. "If only" haunted her every thought. If she had never left Bethlehem would she still be a wife and mother or even a grandmother. But, what good would these questions and regrets get her? Look, her feet have already brought her back to the town of her birth: "So the two women went on until they came to Bethlehem. When they arrived in Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them, and the women exclaimed, “Can this be Naomi?”  (Ruth 1:19-20).When they arrive in town, everyone gathers around them. I am sure Naomi was quite anxious at being seen. I am sure she wanted to be  invisible- not be seen. Naomi seems like a person who tends to retreat from others, especially when she has been hurt. In fact, at times,  she just simply wants to give up on relationships. Being hurt, she simply  does not "want to come out and play." 
Have you ever seen an infant intent on climbing  into a mom's lap or literally climb the dad's leg to get in his arms?   I am like that child. I want up, now Abba. I don't want to be with others. I just I want my Abba.  But, in the end, Abba  tells me, "Down, Mella, down."  My Abba says,"Iron sharpens iron" (Proverbs 27:17). God does not want me stunted, so like the gifted and talented student who will benefit more from public school than homeschooling, I am sent out into the germy, complicated world of real-life with all my fears and inadequacies, but with the companion of the Holy Spirit holding tightly my hand and a whole company of mighty angels.

Eventually, God opens Naomi's eyes to her blessing: “The LORD bless [Boaz]!” Naomi said to her daughter-in-law: “He has not stopped showing his kindness to the living and the dead.” She added, “That man is our close relative; he is one of our guardian-redeemers.” (Ruth 2:20).  Is she the dead or she is being resurrected? At this point of the story, the jury is still out. Will Naomi embrace God's provision for new life or stay stuck in her pain and misery? After praise literally explodes from Naomi's lips for the provision of Boaz, she then blesses Ruth, whom she now calls daughter: Naomi said to Ruth her daughter-in-law, “It will be good for you, my daughter, to go with the women who work for him, because in someone else’s field you might be harmed”  (Ruth 2. 22). She begins to think of Ruth and not just herself.

Finally, Naomi becomes an active agent in her future; she moves from victim to victor; oppressed to champion. She gets her eyes off her loss and lack and embraces the concerns of Ruth.She declares, “My daughter, I must find a home for you, where you will be well provided for.  (Ruth 3:2).  Now Boaz, with whose women you have worked, is a relative of ours.  Naomi becomes an agent of God's grace and unknown to her, her own salvation: Then Naomi said, “Wait, my daughter, until you find out what happens. For the man will not rest until the matter is settled today”  (Ruth 3:18). Ruth follows Naomi's instructions. After Ruth and Boaz marry, Naomi is not forgotten. God restored her life: "Then Naomi took the child in her arms and cared for him.  The women living there said, “Naomi has a son!” And they named him Obed. He was the father of Jesse, the father of David" (Ruth 4:16-17). Her faith is resurrected.

So, I am sure you are wondering what happened to that little girl I spoke of earlier. As God unclings her limbs from his waist, pulling her gently one arm at a time from her death grip around his neck where she has climbed and made a perch, she finally walks quietly down the path where Y'Shua is waiting. She hopes to meet you there someday.

Signing off,

M.J.

The Big Empty Chair

The big chair is comfy, but empty
waiting for me to sit there
beside You

You have being waiting

for me

for hours, days, weeks,

and even years

Waiting for me to see
how much You love me
Collecting all
my tears in Your bottle
Are they all not in
Your book?
(Psalm 56:8)

We cuddle together
in the comfy chair
I rest between
Your shoulders (Deut. 33:12)

How can I know someone?  The answer is simple: by spending time with him or her; by involving this friend in all aspects of my life. I know God in the same way.   I can hear of someone's adventures with this special person, but it is all second-hand-  all the information I have about a special friend comes from sources outside of me. In the same way, another believer's testimony of Jesus working in her life, her Bible study, or worship, can never take the place of my own. I would never try to live vicariously through another's relationship in the natural. So why do I do that in the spiritual? Why do I think hearing the preacher, letting the worship team sing, or reading someone's else inductive Bible study will take the place of my own intimate seeking of Christ?

Would we marry someone we did not know intimately, first-hand? Would seeing a picture, hearing the beloved's voice on CD or DVD, or only experiencing him/her through a social-network suffice? Really?   Having just a social-network relationship can only be superficial at best: how many intimate and personal things do we place on such sites? In the same way, coming to church and experiencing Christ only in the context of a crowd can be shallow.  I need one-on-one time with my Beloved. I need to look in His eyes to really know Him and see myself reflected back in truth.

We all know those folks who feel love is limited to one's birthday and Valentines- showy and somehow just a bit fake because it lacks real substance. Yet, am I like the lover who pours out affection on my Beloved only on Easter and Christmas?   Real love is first sacrificial, patient, kind, gentle, full of good fruit, does not boast, keeps no record of wrongs, not easily offended- that stuff  (I Corinthians 13).

My step-father has a saying, "Let your walk catch up with your talk."   There is a place for prophecy, but let's not forget the present reality. Yes, "He who began a good work in [me] will carry it on the completion until the day of Christ Jesus" (Phil.1:6). Yet, I must address the reality of my present relationship with Christ and move toward where Jesus wants me to be. Sometimes, we go stuck on a prophecy and forget the in-between- the literal working out of our salvation (Philippians 2:12-16).

How serious am I?  Have I left my first love? I am lukewarm only fit to be spit out of  Jesus' mouth (Revelations 3:15-16). I need to focus on adoration and not only service. That's the rub. The Martha syndrome- balancing Mary and Martha takes work. So before I get up to wipe noses or clean feet, to feed the hungry, I find the empty chair and sit with my Beloved.


Signing off,
M.J.