Monthly Archives: December 2014

"One thing I do, forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead." Philippians 3:13

At the end of a year various magazines publish their "best of" and "worst of" articles. The best movie, book, song, etc. I enjoy these editions because they are a good way to remember and reflect.

The same things occur on a personal level. The close of a year is always a time of reflection, for leafing through the pages of another chapter of life. We sing auld lang syne and pledge to hold fast to the good and cherish the family and friends that have blessed us. The end of the year is a nostalgic time, and we wrap ourselves in the blanket of a warm memories.

But not always. The end of the year can be a bitter time of reflection. Old memories rise up like ghosts to haunt the conscience. Failures return with their mocking parade. Every sin, though forgiven, revisits with undiminished bitterness. The pain of a loss, though pushed away a thousand times, is still a raw wound. At the end of the year, you may find it very hard to leave the burdens behind. And worse, this deep regret may not stab only at the end of the year. It happens daily for many of us.

Paul penned a great phrase for dealing with burdens and looking ahead with optimism. "Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead." That sentence is a key to successful living. The delicate art of letting go and pressing ahead enables you to walk lightly and have joy in life. I'll spend the next few weeks dealing with facets of letting go and pressing ahead.

Letting go means leaving behind the guilt, remorse, or regret for past decisions and experiences. Few burdens weigh us down more than the excess baggage of "if only." Like a seasoned traveler, you must learn to pack lightly. For the road of life you need to leave behind soul-breaking burdens. God did not create us to carry such loads.

You have made countless decisions this past year. Some of those decisions have been very good; some may have been disastrous. It seems to be a part of human nature to dwell on the bad. "If only I had done this, or if only I had not done that." You can remain forever in a mental court of appeals reviewing past decisions, condemning yourself for not having done better, condemning others for the harm they did you. We all tend to do this.

Robert Frost's lines come to mind. "I shall be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." What a courageous thought! He took the road less traveled by. We encourage one another, "don't go with crowd, take the road less traveled." Good! Wonderful!

But why do you suppose Frost was "telling this with a sigh?" Because after choosing one road, that choice always makes the difference, and facing the difficulties of that path will make anyone wonder about the road not taken. That road will sometimes seem to contain all that we sought and failed to find on the road we have taken. And so we feel sad and melancholy because we have taken a path that apparently has denied us the happiness we always sought. Another poet put it this way, "of all the sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, "it might have been." Many people trap themselves in the endless cycle of "if only."

So how does God want us to move forward? The first step in letting go is accepting your fallibility. You're human. You make mistakes, great and small. Accept that.

The Bible contains a great deal about our tendency to spiritual failure not because God wants to grind us down like some morbid Baptist preacher, but because He won't remove what we keep holding on to. Confession is not a short-cut to prison. It is actually the way out of the prison we construct through pride, self-pity, and self-centeredness.

You have to fill in the blank. I am _______. What's in the blank? For me, one thorn is my addiction. I am an alcoholic. Filling in that blank was at first enormously difficult, and I resisted it nearly to death. But filling in the blank allowed God's grace to come into my life. Now, one day at a time, that addiction no longer rules my life. I have many other blanks, and I'm still learning to accept each one so that God can begin His work of grace.

Here's the question you have to deal with: are you willing to fill in the blank and admit to God what He already knows?

A dozen thorns line the stem on which a beautiful rose sits enshrined. In your life, each of those thorns represents a blank. Fill it in. Admit what's there. Begin to deal with each one honestly. Only through the pain of our human frailty do we learn that God's grace is sufficient, for His power is made perfect in weakness.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

December 28, 2014

"'And you shall call His name Emmanuel,' which means, 'God with us.'" Matthew 1:23

When our children were young and at home (Oh, the bliss of the empty nest!!!) Leslie and I maintained a "policy for scared kids in the middle of the night" that worked for all those years. If one of the children has a nightmare they can come in our room and go to sleep in a sleeping bag we keep on the floor next to our bed.

Historically, Lauren was on my side, Gregory on Leslie's. I commend this policy to all couples with young children for the simple reason that it keeps the kids out of your bed. If you let them in you have a hard time getting them out. Also if they are in bed with you then you will probably not sleep. A child in bed thrashes around like a giant squid in its death throes.

One night, when Gregory was about five, I heard him thumping his way down the hall to come into our room. Being a light sleeper I always heard those midnight incursions. Leslie, who sleeps guiltlessly, snoozed through most any distraction. I watched Gregory go around the foot of our bed and get in the sleeping bag. It must have been a very bad dream for I heard him the next few minutes whimpering softly, tossing and turning. Finally, I got up, went around and lay down beside him.

He quietly told me that he had had a bad dream, but he didn't want to talk about it. I decided to give him a good dose of a sound homily and so called upon a fine Old Testament text to quiet his fears. "When I am afraid I will trust in you" (Ps. 56:3). I explained thoroughly that God was here and he would take care of any bad dreams. A prayer closed our time together, though when I said amen I noticed that he was still praying quietly. I got up and went back to my side of the bed.

Perhaps five minutes later I saw his silhouette rise from the other side. He whispered,
"Daddy? Daddy!" I replied, "what's the matter buddy?" His simple answer was, "it's not working!"

You have to admire this theological honesty. God had made a promise, Greg had prayed, he still felt scared. Ergo, it's not working. Once again I got up, uncertain now of how to handle this midnight crisis of faith. As I lay down again beside him I did find the words that would help him. "No, Gregory, it is working. God sent me to be here with you right now." I stayed about ten minutes until I heard the gentle rhythm of sleep, got up and went back to bed. He needed me more than he needed words.

We have all had these midnight crises. Often they extend into the waking hours and persist for weeks, months or even years. We yearn for comfort. God's answer was to send, not more words, but to send His Son who, according to the angel of the Lord, shall be called Emmanuel. Matthew helpfully translates this for us, God with us.

During this season of the year I pray that you will sense the presence and peace of Christ in a very real way. He is with you. He is ready to take your burdens because he cares for you. He longs to give you his joy. He is there. So relax in the rhythms of His grace. You are not alone. Go back to sleep.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

December 21, 2014

"While you have the light, believe in the light, that you may become children of light." John 12:36

Light is a cardinal theme in the Gospel of John. He introduces the word early and returns to it often. The Light is Jesus Himself, who was with God and was God from the very beginning, created the world, and then came into it (1:5). The words of Jesus, "I am the Light of the world" (9:5) are found only in John. We find more "light" in John's gospel than any other.

Advent is a time to celebrate The Light. We remember and joyously welcome again the good news of Jesus' birth. We sing of it, decorate our homes and sanctuaries in honor of it. Christmas surrounds us! The Light has come.

Yet we also sense the shadows. They are around us and often in us. Any proper spiritual exercise during Advent requires both embracing what is good and letting go of what is bad. We cannot celebrate The Light fully unless we become aware of, and turn away from, the darkness and night that are a part of every one of us.

That is where Henri Nouwen's prayer comes in. Nouwen was one of my favorite authors. He died in 1996, but his influence continues strongly through works like The Return of the Prodigal. He also battled depression and became through it A Wounded Healer.

He penned the following prayer, and I wanted you to have it to use during Advent. It is a prayer that invites you to discern all forms of the shadows with you, and turn clearly and more completely to The Light of Christ.

Lord Jesus,
Master of both the light and the darkness, send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.
We who have so much to do, seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.
We who are anxious over many things, look forward to your coming among us.
We who are blessed in so many ways, long for the complete joy of your kingdom.
We whose hearts are heavy, seek the joy of your presence.
We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.
To you we say, "Come Lord Jesus!"

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

December 13, 2014

"Do not fear to take Mary as your wife." Matthew 1:20

Has everything in your life turned out the way you expected? If you're honest the answer is a resounding NO! It's curious to me, however, that in spite of the ridiculous notion that everything should turn out as we expect, most of the time we're still surprised, hurt, or angry when it doesn't.

The theme of this Second Sunday of Advent is peace, and in many traditions we light The Bethlehem Candle. Peace. Bethlehem. An odd combination. At the birth of Jesus that little town of Bethlehem was hardly at peace. It was overcrowded with angry people who had to come to be counted in a census.

Also in the crowd was a desperate young couple, the man trying feverishly to find a place off the streets, and preferably under a roof, where his betrothed could give birth to their son. They settled for a cave-like stall and laid the baby in a feed trough. No one expects that kind of life.

Least of all Joseph. Mary certainly had some major adjustments to make. It's not every day you get a visit from an angel and learn that you're going to be the mother of God. But I would argue that Joseph had the most to overcome.

The life he expected was as a carpenter in a small, poor, but surviving Galilean village. He learned his trade, took a fancy to a simple girl named Mary, and become betrothed to her. This was the typical, expected life he had planned for.

Then Mary informed him she was pregnant and gave an incomprehensible explanation. Now at that point the only thing Joseph knew for sure was that the baby was not his. Life had taken a turn, and the expected course was to divorce her, which he planned to do.

Then another turn. An angel appeared to him in a dream saying that her story was true, and he should still marry her. Then another turn. As the due date drew close, they had to hit the road for Bethlehem. Can you imagine being near your 40^th week, bouncing along an unpaved road, on a donkey? Not what either of them expected.

Let's just go through the rest of the unexpected turns quickly: baby born in a barn, shepherds gathering, wisemen arriving, Herod threatening, extended sabbatical in Egypt, multiple angelic visions, return to Nazareth, and finally, raise the Son of God.

The turns in your life may not be of biblical proportions, but they have sometimes so twisted you around that you can't remember the path you were aiming for. This past year alone may have left tire tracks on your soul. You arrive at the second week of Advent with anything but peace.

The absence of a blessing, in this case peace, merely highlights our need for it. We must guard against falling for the trap that the absence of peace equals the impossibility of peace. Don't give up hope!

Peace can be ours when we accept hardships as the pathway to peace. Apparently Joseph did that. Now I'm certain he often shook his head at the mind-boggling way his life was turning out, but he apparently had a simple trust that no problem he faced was greater than God's steady hand of providence.

I have a good friend who, with his wife, has gone through an extended series of difficult turns in his life. One of the lowest points was in 2011 when he had to forfeit his house. They had to be out by 9:00 one morning, so they packed, stored, and tossed everything they owned. They cleaned their empty house one last time. But before they left, they went into the attic, and on a rafter wrote a simple testimony. It read, "Gregg and Kim 2011. They lost their house, but not their faith."

That kind of creed survives any turn. You can work your way through most changes, but often you just trust your way through. And that will bring you peace.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

December 7, 2014