Good Morning~

And I mean it is a right good morning. . . what a blessing to be back with you, dear ones! Thank you for your prayers; what a wacky, serious thing that cat scratch turned out to be--can you believe it? I'm almost good as new now though. God is good. . . in fact, that's just what I wanted to talk to you about.

Change of scenery in today's passage in Luke 8, as Jesus gets into a boat with His disciples, suggesting they cross to the other side of the lake. (We do well to remember that this 'lake' is also called the Sea of Galilee and its conditions could turn on a dime--quickly, kinda like a cat scratch, I guess). Jesus lays His head down for a probably long-overdue nap, and is fast asleep, when a storm overtakes the boat. The disciples are terrified as the boat takes on water, so they awaken Jesus to tell Him they are going down fast. No problem. Jesus 'rebukes' the storm, causing the wicked waves to stop, returning the lake to calm. He looks at His disciples then, and asks them a question, "Where is your faith?"

As is my usual bent, I read these four short verses many times, in several different translations, along with several commentaries as well. Each time I read a new passage, I ask for the Lord's inspiration, and often have 'aha' moments. This time was no different. . . as many times as I read it, Jesus' question leapt off the page of Scripture at me. "Where's your faith?" It is meant to be a probing question--in the middle of the storm, where is your faith? When the lake returns to calm, where is your faith? >>>Is Jesus asking them about the strength of their faith, or in whom they had faith, or both? I default to that which I know best--and since the thing I know about most is me--I ask myself those questions: How strong is my faith, and is my faith well placed? Further, I picture many of you reading these words, though they might not scream at you-- I came to the conclusion that you could answer that question--'where is your faith?' that is, if you would spend some time answering Jesus' question, as though it was posed directly to you, Eric Quinn, Phyllis Spivey. . . you could only answer by realizing that your faith is as strong as what you believe about the One in whom you have put your trust. The money in your pocket says, "In God we trust" (at least for now it does!), but is that true of you? I have chosen to put my trust in God, and I absolutely believe that God is good. . . that His heart toward me is good. . . all the time. I've settled myself on that count. So, when I am in a storm--well, actually, I'm just coming back into a calm port again--where is my faith, how is it? It is strong because who God is doesn't change when my circumstances do. I believe that God is infinitely good--His ways, though I don't always understand them; His heart, though I can't fully comprehend how He loves; His mind, though His thoughts will always be higher than my thoughts--flow from the heart of a loving, though just, God. Well then, nothing that befalls me in this life will shake my trust. I have chosen well in putting my trust in the God of the universe, the God of the Bible, and His righteous Son.

Speaking of our Lord, in crossing from one side of the lake to the other--we observe more than just a change of venue--Jesus exhibits more of who He is, showing His power over nature by calming the storm. We have seen Him demonstrate power over disease, demons, death, and now, nature. Who is this God? I'm reminded of a scene from The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe where the children are hearing for the first time of Aslan the Lion, the allegorical Christ figure of the book: "Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. Is he--quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."

"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver, "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else silly."

"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. "Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

And once again I think of A.W. Tozer, who said, "What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us." from The Knowledge of the Holy When we think rightly about God, our compass is sure. Tozer, taking it a little further, "were we able to extract from any man a complete answer to the question, 'What comes into your mind when you think about God?' We might predict with certainty the future of that man. " Our God is holy, wild, unpredictable. . .

People have settled for a God "on call," a God available for crises and fiascos, who does a bit of juggling with weather patterns and parking stalls but who otherwise remains unobtrusive as a chambermaid, tidying things up while you're at brunch, leaving a crisp sash of tissue around the lid of the toilet bowl to let you know all is in order. The problem, obviously is that this god--so kind, so shy, so tame--has nothing to do with the God of the Bible. . . . the God whose Spirit broods and dances, the God who topples entire empires, sometimes overnight, the God who reveals himself in the Christ who looks big men in the eye and says, "Follow me," and then walks away, not waiting for a reply. . . . the Lion of Judah is fierce, wild and good. from The Holy Wild by Mark Buchanan

And so I ask you--where is your faith? Some thinking may be in order.

So that you may know,

Christine