TINY LIGHTS

GLOWWORMS

It was a dark and stormy night. I know, that is a trite beginning, but it was indeed. Rain was misting down silently covering brush, grass and trees with a blanket of droplets that sloshed on anything that jostled through. I was young, filled with childhood imaginings of monsters lurking in shadowy lairs.

It was decades ago I first spotted glow worms in the wet foliage. Sullen clouds blotted out the sunset, and there was no twilight. Trite or not, night fell. Suddenly. It was light, and then it was dark. My mission, and I had to accept it, was to find the cows and drive them to the barn for milking time. Other people's cows might come home, wagging their tails behind them, but ours sought shelter in the timber on the neighbors' property.

I knew the trails, and their hideouts. I also knew they would be in the deep gloom beneath the trees, where the snap of a twig slapped the silent night air like a rifle shot, and dripping water trudged along a fallen log like the relentless approach of who-knew-what.

I stopped at the edge of the grove of trees, and listened for any cow sounds. As I stood, turning my head to catch the faintest sound, a tiny light in the grass and leaves caught my attention. A few feet away, there was another, even brighter. Then, another, dimmer, but the same greenish glow, lights in the darkness that distracted the imaginings that caused my stomach to tie itself in knots.

My clothes were already soggy, so I knelt to see more closely the source of light. Pulling the blades of grass aside, I found a tiny worm-like bug. I picked it up and placed it in the palm of my hand. By its light, I could discern four glowing segments, two on each side of its back end. Their green luminescence reminded me of the spots on my Big Ben pocket watch that glowed in the dark after it had been exposed to light. In my distraction, I gathered nearly a dozen of the creatures. I had forgotten the cows, and the monsters, until I stumbled, but caught myself on a dead limb of a tree. The limb broke resoundingly. As I fell, the worms flew, and the grove exploded in a cacophony of grunts, snorts, thuds of flying hooves and crashes of breaking branches as the cows bolted from the grove, and stampeded toward the barn.

When I was older, and less prone to invent monsters in the night, I went on expeditions to gather glow worms. I put them in jars and tried to read by their light. That didn't work, so I set them free. The farm is decades in my rear view mirror now, but the memory of glow worms is a pleasant one, even from that first night when the tiniest bit of light lessened the fearfulness of darkness.

In our physical realm, light has that effect for those lost in the darkness. They gravitate toward light and the hope it offers. But in the spiritual realm, that is not always the case. 1 John 1:4 tells us that God is light. Light is His nature. Light speaks of His holiness, His purity. He is our opposite. In his gospel, John sets before us the stark reality of that contrast. In John 3:18-21, we find our Lord in conversation with Nicodemus. He uses this contrast of light and darkness symbolically, when He says: “He that believeth on him is not condemned; but he that believeth not [stands] condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved But he that doeth truth cometh to the light that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God.”

There is indeed a pervasive aversion to the light of God's holiness, an antipathy toward the light of His glory. In Romans 1:18, Paul notes this animosity: “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness...” The ESV uses the phrase “suppress the truth.”

There is no clearer picture of this than the earthly ministry of our Lord. He was hunted with deadly intent at His birth. The rightful king of Israel, He was condemned by His own people before Pilate, when they cried, “We have no king but Caesar!” Only a remnant had come to the light, drawn by the hope that was in Him. John says of Him in John 1:4, “In Him was life, and that life was the light of men.” Yet, from the manger-cradle to the cross, “He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” (Isa 53:3) Notice, the verse is couched in the present tense. Nothing has changed. In this sin-darkened, storm-battered world, the Light of the world is still despised and rejected.

As believers, we who were darkness have been made light in Christ, equipped with the light of the Gospel of grace, and set as light bearers in this dark place, to be used by God as beacons, as the lower lights of navigation, tiny lights that line up to direct the lost one to the Light of Life. We are, in truth, God's glow worms. Certainly, there are some who would step on us, crush us. But there are a few who, seeing the tiniest of lights, will be made aware by God's Holy Spirit of a greater Light, where there is salvation, deliverance, redemption, and hope. Let your light shine!

SINCERE

SNOWFLAKES

I recall awakening to twilight mornings when snow-laden clouds trudged across our fields unburdening themselves of thick, fleecy blankets. When they were finished, they would linger, admiring their handiwork. Fence posts wore slouching top hats, trees were wrapped in shawls of puffs and open work, and the fields themselves were vast expanses of unbroken whiteness. Sometimes two or three feet of snow would fall overnight, smoothing the uneven, covering the cluttered, burying everything. One night, tiny snowflakes sifted down like flour, burying the calves behind the barn under a three-foot thick quilt, so even on top that we had to kick through it, back and forth, until we booted the sleeping calves, dug them out, and carried them into the barn to huddle together and warm up. It was twenty below zero, and the biggest snowflakes were no more than a quarter of an inch across.

In the morning sunlight, the fields were dazzling white, the very image of purity, an unspoiled expanse of soft silence. The sky stayed clear, and the temperature hovered around zero during the day, dropping to minus twenty at night for nearly two weeks. Through the process of sublimation, where ice changes to water vapor without melting, a hidden reality was revealed: Each snowflake has a dirty heart. That dazzling white blanket turned dingy gray, as its true character was revealed.

Snowflakes, like raindrops, are formed as water molecules condense around microscopic particles of dust, smoke, or some other solid contaminant in the atmosphere. In their myriad individuality, snowflakes share that common nature that is the source of their destruction. The contaminant that is the core of their being responds to their sunny surroundings, absorbing what it has to offer, and decaying the snowflake from within.

How like us! Every newborn baby is the most beautiful baby ever born, the very image of purity and innocence. Just ask the mother. But, you shouldn't ask mine! I was born in the era when mothers were anesthetized during the birth process. My mother awoke before the nurses had cleaned me up. She looked at me, and asked, “Is THAT my baby?” I've been traumatized ever since.

Oh, yes. The image of purity and innocence. Each baby is unique, yet shares a common nature. At birth, there is a core of selfish rebellion lurking, ready to respond to the glittering surroundings that entice, a core that reveals itself early on, spoiling the image. Sooner or later, every mother finds herself muttering my mother's question.

Scripture uses snow as a standard of purity in two ways. There are two perspectives, God's, and ours. God mentions this fact in 1 Sam 16:7: “But the Lord said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.” In his allegory entitles The Uncrowned King, Harold Bell Wright portrayed two royal brothers, giving them names that underscore this dichotomy: Seems-To-Be and Really-Is. Man indeed looks on the outside, and is easily impressed, easily attracted, and easily deceived. Discernment and wisdom allow a deeper perception, and those come only from God Himself. His Word, dwelling in a believer richly, is used by God's indwelling Spirit, first to reveal to that believer his own heart, and also to give a somewhat deeper understanding of what lies beneath the surface in others. As Hebrews 4:12 tells us, “For the Word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” In our limited abilities, our finite minds, and our sin-clouded understanding, we can never perceive things as God does. Thus, God gives a human perspective of His might work in our behalf, when in Isa 1:18 He says to His people, “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” As white as snow. The appearance. Seems-To-Be. Seen from the limited human point of view, the work of God will satisfy us.

God, however, is not satisfied with appearance. His work is never superficial. He inspired the psalmist David to underscore that holy demand of God for a heart-level perfection, when he wrote in Psalm 51:7: “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” Whiter than snow! What an anticipation! A heart-deep purity, accomplished by God who sees, God who knows, God who works to accomplish His glorious purpose, awaits us when we see our Savior face to face.

Snowfalls can be beautiful. When we see huge flakes settling thickly earthward, when we see the world around us wrapped in an undulating blanket of white, when we see the diamond-studded blanket shimmering in the sunlight, may we use it as a beautiful reminder of God's purifying work on Calvary's cross: the washing work of justification, the purging work of sanctification, and the purifying work of glorification. Clean before our Lord! Whiter than snow!

Our Wonder, His Glory

MARVELOUS TECHNICOLOR POINTER

Rainbow to the windward, foul fall the day...rainbow to the leeward, clouds fly away...

We marvel at rainbows. We strive to capture their beauty with palette and brush, with cameras of all sorts, with words, and we fail. The gossamer fabric floats in our vision, rigid yet fluid, fixed yet seemingly moving, appearing now near, now far, depending on the distance to the background. They are the fruit of contrasts: light in darkness, brilliance against drabness, sunshine through rain,

order out of chaos, hope in despair.

The heavenly Artist paints His ethereal wonders in many patterns. Once, we were in Las Vegas, watching a phenomenon in the desert sky. On a hot, clear summer day, a wisp of cirrus cloud would materialize, white against intense blue, suddenly blaze into a brushstroke of color, then vanish, dissolving into azure, as a wave settles back into the sea. In other settings, we have seen full arcs, partial rainbows, with only stubs of the two ends visible, and rainbow tops, with no lower portions at all. We have watched portions of rainbows expand to be full arcs that intensified in color, and added a paler, mirror image above, with the colors reversed.

The unusual displays have impressed us by their uniqueness. My wife and I have seen a rainbow fan, where the colors appeared to form a glorious bouquet that sprang from the horizon, and spread in both directions, forming a neat floral arrangement as it crowned the trees. We have seen rainbow sunsets, in which the clouds, rather than glowing with the usual gold fading to orange and red, shimmered in rainbow patches and layers. Intense sunlight bursting through pouring rain that fell from dark clouds one day produced a rainbow that looked like it had been folded and refolded, with reversed rainbows stacked together, seven high.

This most beautiful of the visual phenomena, a product of the laws of creation, has been secularized into a variety of cultural omens, a harbinger of luck or doom. Superstitious associations tied to the rainbow are found wherever it rains, from the most primitive culture to the most sophisticated. There is a reputed pot of gold at one end, and a black snake at the other. Reaching the end is the challenge. Rainbows, like mirages, are perceived relative to our point of view, specifically, to the position of our eyes. If we move, the rainbow moves. It is ever before us, but flees at our approach. Thus it becomes a symbol of futility, as in “chasing rainbows.”

In many cultures around the world, through many generations, the rainbow has been viewed as a bridge between the living and the dead, or between heaven and earth. From both a secular and religious point of view, the rainbow has been generalized into a symbol of hope or promise. It has even been highjacked to represent cultural ecumenicism, or the demand for acceptance of an unnatural life practice that God has called an abomination.

Even among believers, the rainbow has been demoted from its true context and meaning, to the nebulous hope and promise symbol. Let us return to its original context in Scripture. We are told little of the conditions of the world before the flood. We do know, both from direct statement in Scripture, and from inferences, that there were great changes that came with the judgment of the Flood of Noah's day. The Flood brought the advent of rain, and ended what appears to have been a vapor canopy that enveloped the Earth. It instituted the cycle of sunshine and rain that, when they combine under the conditions demanded by physics, will produce rainbows.

God said to Noah, “I have set My bow in the cloud, and it shall be a sign of a covenant between Me and the earth. And it will be when I gather the clouds on the earth, then the bow shall be seen in the clouds. And I will remember My covenant which is between Me and you, and every living soul in all flesh. And the waters shall not again become a flood to destroy all flesh. And the bow shall be in the clouds, and I shall see it, to remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living soul, in all flesh on the earth.” (Gen 9:13-16, LITV)

The context is judgment, and its aftermath. Eight souls had been preserved through the severe judgment of the global Flood that annihilated every breathing creature on the earth, except the remnant, both human and animal, God enclosed in the ark. But, when Noah and his family ventured out from the ark after the Flood, nothing had changed regarding humanity. Compare God's perspective both before and after the Flood:

“And Jehovah saw that the evil of man was great on the earth, and every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the day long.” (Gen 5:6, LITV)

and “...Jehovah said in His heart, I will never again curse the ground for the sake of man, because the imagination of the heart of man is evil from his youth. Yea, I will not again smite every living thing as I have done.” (Gen 8:21, LITV)

The heart of man was unchanged. The heart of rebellion against God and the sin nature of man went into the ark, and emerged unaltered by the experience of grace, to proliferate in self-willed arrogance.

In the proper context, the rainbow is seen, not as a general sign of promise, but a proclamation of mercy and grace pointing to the coming Savior, Jesus Christ. God's mercy withholds from us what we deserve. God said, “I know your heart is sinful. I will withhold the judgment you deserve.” God's grace gives us freely what we don't deserve. God said, “I will provide a sin-bearer. I will pour out My wrath on Him.” The sign of the rainbow pointed straight to Calvary. Man's heart, left unaltered, diminishes, rejects and replaces the things of God.

The apostle Paul wrote in Romans chapter 1, “ For the unseen things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things made, both His eternal power and Godhead, for them to be without excuse. Because knowing God, they did not glorify Him as God, nor were thankful. But they became vain in their reasonings, and their undiscerning heart was darkened. Professing to be wise, they became foolish and changed the glory of the incorruptible God into a likeness of an image of corruptible man, and of birds, and four-footed animals, and creeping things. Because of this, God gave them up to impurity in the lusts of their hearts, their bodies to be dishonored among themselves, who changed the truth of God into the lie, and worshiped and served the created thing more than the Creator, who is blessed forever. Amen.

The rainbow we admire is a victim of what Paul described. Diminished from its rightful understanding, it is distorted into a mere human perception. The mind that cannot receive the things of God adapts and distorts perceptions to a Godless realm, and rejects anything outside that self-fashioned construct. The mind that casually acknowledges God but keeps Him distantly peripheral diminishes His personal involvement and impact in life. The mind that is renewed by the Spirit's application of the Word, whose understanding is opened by the Spirit to receive the truths of God, sees Him in His greatness and glory in those glimpses He gives in small things, in quiet reminders He tucks into creation.

Can two people see the same rainbow? No. Each is uniquely blessed, because the rainbow is perceived by the eyes that behold it. To see the same rainbow, the eyes of the two people would have to occupy the same location simultaneously. Can we see the same rainbow as God sees? If we are His, He by His Spirit indwells us. As we abide in Him, and His Word abides in us, we see from His perspective. Note that glorious statement in what God said to Noah regarding the rainbow: “...And the bow shall be in the cloud, and I shall see it, and remember...” mercy, grace, redemption, salvation...Jesus.

We recently saw a quiet, glorious reminder that God would draw all eyes to see and understand His gracious heart. We were on our way to church. The morning sun blazed behind us. Before us loomed a dark cloud bank. Rain began to sprinkle, and then to pour down. As the rain increased, the brilliance of the rainbow did, too. As we rounded a bend in the highway, we saw an effect I cannot explain. From the rainbow's end over the bay, a straight, narrow, vertical beam of rainbow pointed skyward. As high as we were able to look, it went straight into the heavens, a rainbow laser pointer, drawing our eyes and minds to things above, and not to things on the earth.

Bright Glory

ILLUMINED STONES

The old home where I spent most of my early years was a pioneer homestead. The house was a rambling accumulation of add-ons to the original cabin, and we could trace the development by the various window styles, and the quality of the glass. The front door, which we seldom used, had six small panes, one of which was cracked when we moved in, and stayed that way for several years.

My dad, who had been a hard-rock and placer miner during the Great Depression, changed his focus to rockhounding in his later years. Using a diamond-edged rock saw, he would slice open various specimens he brought home. He always anticipated that first cut, when he sliced a new stone, wondering what inner beauty would be revealed. Those that were especially colorful, or patterned, and translucent, he sliced thinly, sometimes as little as a sixteenth of an inch thick, sometimes as much as an eighth or more. He would take out the slice of stone, reset the saw to cut the next, and then stand gazing through the back-lighted slab, delighting in the beauty God had hidden in the rock. On sunny days, he would gather a handful of slabs and use the bright light of the sun to back-light the slices, revealing rich beauty with God's light that the light bulbs could not show.

The slices of different rocks held almost a full spectrum of color. Brazilian banded agates, or coconut agates, were patterned with concentric stripes, that looked like layers of caramel, shading from chocolate brown to honey tone to pale yellow as you looked toward the center. Mexican lace agates were baroque slices of intricate stripes and swirls and eyelets of color from red and pink to orange and yellow, with occasional touches of blue and green. Aventurine was a gritty light green, and rhodochrosite an intense pink. Petrified wood showed rings or bands, depending on which way it was cut. Obsidian glowed a smoky gray, sometimes banded, sometimes not.

Dad decided to replace that broken pane in the front door with a sun catcher pane of his own making. He cast pieces of stone in clear resin, with a sprinkling of tiny garnets in between giving a pale purple tint to the panel. Once in place, the new window was more to look at than to look through. Even on rainy days, daylight through the patterns of stone was eye candy.

That idea of light through stone took several forms. Dad made rock coffee tables that had a translucent top, thin panels arranged below, and a fluorescent lamp to light the whole thing. He and Mom would sit in the late evenings with all the lights out except the rock table, and, gazing at a beauty that declared God's glory, each would be lost in thoughts, memories or dreams.

Stones have a warm beauty when light passes through them. Though lovely, agates are cloudy at best. They filter the light, diminishing its radiance. Some stones, the ones we call precious, rather than semiprecious, are clear, and the clearer, the better. Stone cutters spend hours studying portions of a crystal, seeking that portion that has no fractures, no impurities, and no inclusions. Those are the rarest of the rare. Diamonds, emeralds, rubies and more, when perfect, are not only rare and valuable, but small. Tiny fragments of the earth, treasured for their beauty and rarity, they whisper of God's love of beauty, and of things to come.

God uses those very gemstones we value to express to us what He treasures. Consider the breastplate Aaron wore as high priest of Israel. In Exodus chapter 28, we find God giving Moses instructions for the stonework of the breastplate, including twelve precious and semiprecious stones. Each stone was to be engraved like a signet with the name of one of the tribes of Israel. These stones, large enough to be so inscribed, set in gold, would have been beautiful in the sunlight. They were to be worn over the heart of the one God had selected as the intermediary between Himself and His own, a position of love and compassion. The two onyx stones on the shoulders of the high priest has six names on each, carried in a position of strength and power. Both were vital. God's love and compassion for His own, operating with His strength and power. Love and compassion without strength and power is weak and ineffectual, while strength and power without love and compassion is cold and hard. Remember what God said of the attire of the high priest. They were to be , according to Exodus 28:2, “for glory and for beauty.” The holy glory of strength and power, and the beauty of love and compassion.

King David gathered materials for the building of the temple in Jerusalem, preparing them for his son Solomon, who would do the actual building. In 1 Chronicles 29:2, David writes, “Now I have prepared with all my might for the house of my God the gold for things to be made of gold, and the silver for things of silver, and the brass for things of brass, the iron for things of iron, and wood for the things of wood; onyx stones, and stones to be set, glistering stones, and of divers colors, and all manner of precious stones...” In 2 Chronicles 3:6, Solomon records that he “...garnished the house with precious stones for beauty.” Overlaid with gold, and garnished with precious stones, that temple was a sight to stir the heart and spirit of the worshiper, again adorned for glory and for beauty, reminders of the greatness of God.

The breastplate and the temple, for all their splendor, were but dull earthbound reminders of the glory to be revealed. We have seen the gemstone chips that men admire, covet, and hoard. But, in the light of the glory to come, they are nothing.

Look at the description of the New Jerusalem that will be the eternal dwelling of the Bride of Christ, the body of believers in Revelation chapter 21. In verse 11, John sees the holy city, “Having the glory of God: and her light was like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal...” The jasper stones my dad sliced were blood red, but opaque. No light passed through those slices. The holy Jerusalem is resplendent with the glory of God.

In verses 19 and 20 detail the foundations of the wall: “And the foundations of the wall of the city were garnished with all manner of precious stones. The first foundation was jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, a chalcedony [agate]; the fourth, an emerald; the fifth, sardonyx [onyx]; the sixth, sardius [carnelian]; the seventh, chrysolite;, the eighth, beryl; the ninth, a topaz; the tenth, a chrysophrase; the eleventh, a jacinth; the twelfth, an amethyst.” Gems of many colors, and of immense proportions forming the foundation of the city, and the walls, and the gold of the streets are all said to be clear as crystal, denoting their absolute purity. Enormous single pearls, shimmeringly iridescent yet translucent, are the gates. Perfect transparency that, while refracting the light of glory, cast no shadows.

Our finite minds are unable to picture such beauty, and that is only the setting for the beauty of the Lord Himself. The blood-red walls with shimmering gates; foundations of red and green, deep blue and purple, orange, yellow, and white; the gold, everywhere, gold, all illuminated by our God and by the Lamb. Look at verse 23: “And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.” The entire city, fifteen hundred miles long, wide and high, lit up from within by the very glory that blinded the apostle Paul on the Damascus road, the glory of the presence that clung to Moses' face when he came down from the presence of God. We in our mortality cannot comprehend eternal glory. The radiant outshining will illumine the new Earth, and the inhabitants of it, as we see in verse 24. Perfect beauty, perfect purity, perfect holiness, and the warm glow of perfect love will flood the new heavens. God's love-gift to His Son, the Church, the perfect Bride, will dwell forever with the Bridegroom in His Father's house, the New Jerusalem. God's chosen earthly people, Israel, inhabiting the new Earth, will walk in the radiance of His glory.

Heart's Desire

SKUNKED!

Lolly was an Australian Shepherd we acquired when she was two years old, and by that time, some of her habits were well established. She was a red tricolor, and true to that color variety, she was assertive, bossy, and at times, aggressive. She disdained play, and instinctively attempted to herd her charges, which were usually my wife and me. She would circle us, bumping us together with her shoulder, nudging us on the back of the knee to speed us up, cutting close in front of us to slow us down, but always, endlessly circling us. When we got a second Aussie, Lolly added her to her flock.

Rabbits were her endless challenge. The brush bunnies would venture out from the salal thicket that borders our property, but not very far. When Lolly spotted one of them, she inevitably took off to add it to her flock, sometimes in a sprint, other times bounding like a blacktail deer. The bunny would dash to the mouth of its tunnel, pause until Lolly was close, and then vanish. A dozen times a day, she tried, and always failed. She added ground squirrels to the list to be rounded up, but gave up on the pine squirrels. Those stray animals became an obsession to her. Rabbits and squirrels were to be rounded into the bunched flock; feral cats and other dogs, threats to her charges, were to be run off. She demanded, in no uncertain terms, that they leave her territory.

Obsessions can turn on us. Lolly discovered that one twilight when she saw a flash of movement in the shadows. Her response was immediate pursuit. The trouble was, she caught this one. We heard a yelp, and heard, before we could see, Lolly dashing toward us, diving every few steps to scrub her face in the grass. The breeze announced her victim-turned-victor as a skunk, and a very potent one at that. Fortunately for us, we had trained Lolly to go to her kennel on command. Our voices blended in a sharp, “Lolly! Kennel...NOW! Kennel!” The command penetrated her suffering, and thankfully, she responded without contacting us. She did, however leave a pungent contrail in the evening air.

Lolly received a concentrated blast of skunk juice full in her face, with her mouth and eyes wide open. For some odd reason, the bunnies and squirrels enjoyed unprecedented freedom thereafter. Cats, too. Other dogs were still intruders to be chased away, but one white vinegar bath was all she wanted...or, perhaps it was the sample the white-striped perfume-kitty gave her. She got far more than she wanted, like a dog I had years ago, who chased and caught a slow-moving porcupine.

How like us those dogs of mine! We set our goals, listing the things, the accomplishments, the experiences and desires that we will pursue. We chase endlessly those things that stay just out of reach. We envy others that have the very things we pursue. Worse, we beg God to let us reach those goals that we deem so desirable. David, in Psalm 106:15-16, in reviewing Israel's history, brings up a reality that gives us a stern warning: “[They] lusted exceedingly...and He gave them their request, but brought leanness to their soul.”

Imagine the scene: Millions of people in the desert, kept by God's miraculous provision of food and water where there were neither, and they were not satisfied. I picture a mob of 1960's style protestors, complete with placards, obstructionists on a sit-in, chanting, “We want meat! We want meat!” That account shows up in Numbers chapter 11. They got meat. Picture quail piled in and around the camp a day's journey in every direction. I've hunted quail. More to the point, I've cleaned quail. There is not much meat on one of those little birds, but lots of feathers, skin and innards. Moses records in Numbers chapter 11, that they stood up all day and all night cleaning quail, and he who gathered least gathered the equivalent of 800 gallons. Whether or not that was the volume of cleaned quail, or uncleaned, there were still a couple of problems that they had to deal with somehow. With millions of people cleaning quail, there would be an immense accumulation of waste, and quail entrails stink when they are fresh, which they would not be for long. Add to that the fact that there was not a refrigerator among them. Thirty days of quail eating surely made them long for manna once more!

We can chuckle over their foolishness, but, when we look in the mirror of God's word, we discover we all too often walk in their covetous sandals. We want what we want, and we want it now. Therein lies the trouble. Our focus is on self, and our own desires and purposes. James puts it this way in Jas 4:3: “Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that you may consume it upon your lusts.” We present God with a contract, pointing out where He is to sign, where He is to initial, and when we expect delivery. But our demands are for the things of this world, whose values and goals are not godly. 1 John 2:16 tells us clearly that the things on the horizontal plane, the flesh-focused “...lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life [are] not of the Father, but [are] of the world.” Pleasure, possessions, and prestige look so desirable, but are so enslaving. Pleasure is for the moment, and when it is gone, it leaves an endless hunger for something more. Possessions entice with the desire to have, then the satisfaction of having gives way to the fear of losing. Prestige is transient, dependent on fickle admirers, and when it passes, it leaves emptiness.

Contrast the flesh-centered things of the world, with the eternal thing above, that should hold our attention, our affection, and our desire. They are ours in Christ, and Christ-focused desires are ours for the asking. In the fifteenth chapter of John's gospel, our Lord speaks of an enduring relationship with His own, using the image of the vine and the branches. The life-union of the believer with the Lord Jesus comes with an endless flow of blessing, not of worldly treasure, but of that which is of eternal value. Our Lord laid out the foundation of that blessing, and its scope. In John 15:7, He said, “If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will and it shall be done unto you.” And in verse 16, He added a requirement, when He said, “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father, in My name, he may give it you.” Note: ask...in My name. That does not mean laying out our demands, and then adding, “in Jesus' name...” Instead, “in My name” means that what we ask is consistent with all that He is, consistent with His purposes. How can we know that is true of what we ask? “If ye abide in Me, and my words abide in you...” The Spirit of God applies the Word of God to the heart of the man or woman of God. The Word of God reveals the heart of God. When we ask that which is in the Word, we ask that which is consistent with the very character of Jesus Christ. There is no disappointment then, no leanness, no shame, no stink

Candlesticks

LIGHT WITHIN

Tide tables are paper guess-timations trying to give us a schedule of events in the long-running competition that involves the tug-of-war between the sun and the moon, as they tussle over the water in the ocean, with the clock and calendar serving as officials. A broad spectrum of beach-going spectators search that program, timing their activities to the numbers. There are some who want to catch the highest of the high tides. Others watch for the lowest of the lows. Minus tides cause several groups to be drawn into the solar-lunar struggle.

Timing is everything. Clam diggers want to be on the beach two hours before low tide, to take advantage of the ever-new search areas revealed by receding waters. So do agate hunters. Agate hunters, being true rock hounds, add another facet to the timing of their arrival at the hunting ground. The closer to sunrise or sunset is to the super-low minus tide is, the more excited the pebble pickers get.

I heard decades ago of the motivating phenomenon that drives agate seekers. At first, I questioned the idea, but, having experienced it myself, I can no longer doubt. At the right angle of sunlight, agates appear to glow, either in the rising or setting sun. Translucent reds, oranges, yellows and whites, in the light of the sun, they appear to have an inner radiance, though it is not their own. Even on a rocky beach, or a beach gravel bar, surrounded by thousands of plain old rocks, the glow draws the knowledgeable rock hound to the treasure. The unenlightened seekers wander to and fro, finding an occasional agate, while the one who looks for the light gathers abundantly during the brief window of opportunity.

Those translucent stones have a warm beauty when light passes through them. Some rockhounds take large agates, drill holes in them, build a base with a light bulb, and set the agate aglow with the light in its heart. The color of the stone depends on the mineral make-up of the rock. Carnelian ranges from red to orange, while agates shade from yellow to white, pale blues and greens. The variations in thickness, banding and inclusions govern the brightness and mottling of the lighted stone lamp.

Often, agates come encrusted in a matrix, the residue of their origin. Sometimes the crust is acquired, sometimes it is native. If the abrading action of sand and surf has not scoured away the opaque wrappings, the artist must grind it away, and polish the stone to reveal its uncluttered personality. Whether free-form baroque, or carefully shaped, we discover a uniqueness, an unmatched individuality

in each stone, much like that which we observe in snowflakes and fingerprints. But, it is the light shining from within that gives a warm, compelling attractiveness to the stone lamp.

Believers are like those agates. To the degree that a believer is translucent, the light of the Son gives an inner radiance that does not have its origin in the one who glows. As with the agates, so many factors must be in alignment. Translucence is vital. The light must not be hidden. “Let your light so shine before men, that they will see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”

Using himself as the illustration, the apostle Paul gives us an insight into the working of the Heavenly Lampmaker that is true of every believer. In Gal 1:15-16, we read, “But when it pleased God...To reveal his Son in me...” Paul had just enumerated his fleshly merits in his life apart from Christ, merits seemingly good, admired and honored by his peers, but found to be dark, worthless encrustations enshrouding a hard, self-glorifying heart. In His own time, God took Paul from the gravel bar of humanity, opened that hard heart, and placed within the Light of His Son, and of His Word. As He scoured away the crust of self and worldly values and aspirations, the glorious Light shined through the personality of Paul that was being purged of self, being purified and perfected into Christ-likeness by the Spirit of God.

That is the work of God in each of us, mentioned in Phil 1:6: “Being confident of this very thing, that He which has begun a good work in you, will perform it until the Day of Jesus Christ.” We are here as light bearers, but Christ is the Light. It is the Spirit's ministry to reveal Christ in us. In John 15:26, as our Lord was revealing the work of the coming Comforter in the believers, He said, “But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, He shall testify of Me. And ye also shall bear witness...” Again, in John 16:14, speaking again of the work of the indwelling Spirit, Jesus said, “He shall glorify Me...” Lightbearers. Lampstands. As with the lampstands of old, we are not the lamp. We are not the fuel. We are not the flame. We serve only as the chosen means to display His glory that radiates from within, from the heart He has chosen as His abode.

Through our unique personalities, He radiates His characteristics found in Gal 5:22-23: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance...” Choose any one of these graces, and the one you see will be manifested through the personality of each believer differently, with varying intensities and impacts. Joy will be bubbly exuberance in one, and a quiet smile in another. Gentleness in one will embrace the suffering; in another, the young; and in another, the erring. In each case, the character of Christ, the Christ-life, radiating from the core of the believer, is used by God to draw others to the light that is Christ. Thus, we are encouraged to be “...ready always to give an answer to every man who asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you...” in 1 Pet 3:15, and both the hope and the reason are found in the first part of that verse. It is the Light within. “But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts...” The light within that illumines the believer in a compellingly attractive way is the indwelling Spirit of God, revealing the indwelling Son of God, and applying through the life, behaviors and words of the believer the richly indwelling word of God. We are indeed lightbearers in a dark world, where we glow with the glory of His presence muted within us by our earthly being. But, in His presence, we will shine with the radiance of His unveiled glory. John writes those richly assuring words in 1 John 3:2: “Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when He shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.” His own, His treasured, cherished, chosen vessels now, to be used in this life and in this world for the veiled display of His glory. In His presence, we shall be partakers of His radiant glory!

DO NOT CROSS

BOUNDARIES

We are drawn to the edge of the continent. There is a magnetic attraction that entices us to the seaside, whether it is sandy or rocky. Even the high cliffs towering above the ocean draw us to gaze seaward from their higher vantage point. We watch, mesmerized, the surging, sighing summer surf, walk or lie beside its calming lullaby. We stand in awe of the explosive roar of the pounding waves of a winter storm, as the ocean vents its fury against the rocky cliffs and sandy dunes alike. So it has been for a hundred generations, and more.

We find the seashore in many scriptural passages set forth representing boundaries. In Jeremiah's day, it was used as a reprimand for God's people. In Jer 5:22, we read, “Fear ye Me not? saith the Lord: will ye not tremble at my presence, which have placed the sand for the bound of the sea by a perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it: and though the waves thereof toss themselves, yet can they not prevail; though they roar, yet can they not pass over it?” The rainbow was attached to a promise not to destroy the world again with water, when Noah and his family came out of the ark. The forces of judgment of the flood had changed the face of the earth. God drew new boundaries for the sea, as He drew new boundaries for the habitations of men. Deut 32:8.

Physical boundaries, yes. But spiritual as well. Our Lord often sat on the seashore as he taught the multitude, or in a boat just offshore, symbolizing a dividing line, a behavioral boundary, a lifestyle borderline. That is a direct challenge to our fleshly nature. In our Adamic heritage, we are prone to push against limitations. We demand that boundary lines be moved to accommodate our wishes, pleasures and willful cravings. As we stand by the sea gazing at the horizon line wondering what lies beyond, so we flock to the bounds of righteousness, longing for what lies beyond.

The waves of the sea do indeed toss themselves, and with what power! Crashing relentlessly against the cliffs, they break rocks free. They grind the rocks to sand, and then day by day, storm by storm, they rearrange the sand. But, the boundary remains.

Scripture does, however, reveal the impact of the rebellion within our hearts on the planet we occupy. God's word to Adam was, “...cursed is the ground for thy sake...” Gen 3:17 The ground is cursed because of you, because of your choice to go your own way. Indeed, the Apostle Paul reveals the scope of that curse, when in Romans 8:22 we read, “For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.” All creation suffers under the curse of sin. The earth is pictured as pain-wracked, and from time to time, the writhing earth shudders, disturbing the sea. At that point, the waves really toss themselves, venturing outside their usual limits. Those limits cannot be crossed without tragic results, as tsunamis have shown. The earth quakes, the sea stretches relentlessly to the boundary of the inundation zone, sweeping it clear of usurpers, then returns to its own level, leaving destruction in its wake.

Interestingly, scripture also uses the sea as a symbol of humanity. The image of mankind being compassed about by God by behavioral boundaries that parallel that of the sea. We rage and foam against the limits, but, when we cross over, the result is misery and destruction.Oh, that we would learn the boundaries that God's love has established for our good, and, by His Spirit's leading, appropriate them for our own.

For believers, the boundary of our habitation is Christ Himself, the One who speaks peace to the raging sea. He brings an incredible calm to our spirit. Winds of circumstances about us may rage, and we may groan along with the earth for deliverance, but the Master of the waters of quietness gives an eternal peace that transcends both time and human comprehension. Paul, in 2 Cor 4:16-18, sets things in perspective for believers: “For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward is renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

Gazing across the boundary? Wondering about what might be on the other side? Paul fixes our focus in Col 3:1-2: “If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth.” Want to gaze into Glory? Gaze into the Word!