Will Preach for Cupcakes

One morning last summer, Allen and I discussed the various errands to be done and whether I should attempt any of them. My stamina was even more limited then than it is now, but his job required a great many hours of overtime just then, and he was weary and grim. Still, he said he'd take care of them all over the weekend.

There was, however, one errand I had omitted from the list. I wanted cupcakes to photograph for the blog's first birthday, and I wanted to choose them myself.

When he left for work, I looked at a new local bakery's Web site to see their hours, knowing that with temperatures starting the day near 90F, I needed to get out and back in a hurry. To my relief, they opened at eight.

I dressed and headed that way. As I drove, I pondered Ann Voskamp's invitation to write about forgiveness for the Walk with Him Wednesday community that week. Was that the answer to my prayers of late for an open door to witness to someone of Christ? Should I write about God's forgiveness? In the background, Alistair Begg preached about the foolishness of the gospel, apparently on a text from 1 Corinthians. Yes, that was how I should approach Wednesday's post. God's forgiveness through the cross of Christ.

That settled, I parked the car and entered the bakery. The manager was coaching a young Asian woman, apparently a new hire. They both looked up, and she greeted me enthusiastically. He boxed up the cupcakes I selected and answered my inquiry about a yummy-looking bar cookie (of which the girl eagerly offered a sample).

She then asked if I was on the way to work. I said no, I was going home after this.

"You already finished your work??!!"

'Well, no, not exactly. Just trying to get errands done and get home before the heat got too bad.'

"So what kind of work do you do?"

'I, well, I...' What is it I do exactly? 'I... write.'

"I knew it! You just look like a writer. What do you write?"

'When I am healthy, I write business documents,' I told her, 'but it has been a hard year with a chronic illness flaring up, so right now I write on my blog only.'

"What kind of blog?"

'I'm a Christian, so I write devotional pieces about Christian ideas and what God is teaching me through my health problems.'

The girl asked for my card, and I gave it to her with the blog address. I learned her name, but here I'll call her Buttercream. It was not clear to me whether she wanted the contact information because of the business writing or the blog, so I asked her if she was a Christian too, if that was why she wanted my contact details.

"My friends are Christian, but I am not. My background is Buddhist, but I really think everyone finds their own truth." Oh.

"What about you? What do you think?" Oh!

My heart raced. God was answering my prayer for an open door, and He was answering it right now. Words, Lord. I need Your words.

'Well, I... Christians..." Deep breath, girl. In. Out.

'Christianity is a little different from some of the other world religions in that we believe--the Bible teaches--that there is really only one truth, absolute truth, or what you could call True Truth.' (Thank you, Francis Schaeffer, for that phrase.)

She's nodding, attention locked in. Her boss has excused himself to the back room. No one else is in the shop, so I continue.

'The Bible teaches that there is only one true God, but we aren't smart enough or good enough to find out about Him on our own. We need Him to reveal Himself to us.

'We see some things about Him in the world around us. Nature tells us how powerful He is and that He is eternal. He lives forever. Left to itself, the world should be winding down and falling apart, so there has to be something, Someone, beyond what we see to keep everything continuing on.'

"Yes! I think so too!! There has to be something keeping all this going!"

The back room is still quiet. No more customers have arrived. Full speed ahead then.

'But the greatest way He has revealed Himself to us is in the historic person Jesus Christ. He was God and man, so His life showed us what God is like. Jesus went around teaching and working miracles and healing people. Even more than that, He lived a perfect life. The Bible tells us God is pure and holy, and if we want to be His friends we have to measure up to that standard, too. Only, none of us do. We all mess up and fall short of His perfection.

'Jesus never did, though. He's the only person in all of time who never messed up. He loved us so much that He died on a cross like the worst kind of criminal to pay the penalty we deserved for our wrongdoings so we could be God's friends.

'Because He did that for us, all that's left for us to do is believe in Him, to trust that what He did is enough. If we do that, however, our lives will start to change and look like His life because He comes to live in the hearts of those who believe in Him.  We still stumble and get it wrong a lot, but we live better than before because He changes us from the inside out.

'When Christians die, then they will be completely like Jesus and not weighed down by sin anymore. For a Christian, death is actually a good thing, because then we will be like Jesus and be with Him forever.

'Does that make sense?'

"Yes. You should have a book club."

Now I'm confused. 'For, like, Christian books, so you can learn more about this, or what?'

"No, just any kind of book. Or a writing seminar. You explain very clearly."

'Well, I'll think about it. Thank you for saying that.'

"We could have it at your house. Potluck. Easy. You know, if not too much work for you."

'I'll consider it and come back and let you know. You work here every day?'

"Monday through Friday. And I study ESL." She named a local university.

It was a week before I found time to write all this down, and by that time I didn't remember quite how I closed the conversation and left. Shook hands? Very nice to meet her? I don't recall.

Why did I skip from natural revelation to Jesus? Why skip Easter? Why didn't I ask her where she was from or what she was majoring in? Why didn't I ask her if she wanted to trust Christ?

But I didn't. And I didn't have a Bible with me to give her. When I returned home, I found one, bagged it up, and set it in the back of the car, at the ready for the next time I saw her. Then I prayed for her to come to know God through Jesus.

So far, there hasn't been a next time. By the time I returned to the bakery, it had closed. Buttercream has my contact information, but I only knew where she worked. The Bible still rides around behind the driver's seat of our car, waiting for an opportunity. Buttercream is still on my prayer list. Maybe I'll meet her someday, and we'll laugh about how much I got wrong and left out, and the language and cultural differences won't matter anymore.

For now, all I can do is pray for her, offer the opportunity back to the Lord with what I made of it and what I didn't, and ask Him to smother it with grace, grace like frosting on those cupcakes.

"Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone" (Colossians 4:5-6, NIV1984).

Chauffeur Surprise

Last week our pastor mentioned, in a sermon on family, that a secular study has found that the thing teenagers most want from their parents is time. That surprised me, because I never remember my dad lacking time for me.

It seems we spent a lot of that time together in the car: driving to his office in the summers when I worked with him, driving to and from ballet and piano lessons, and of course driving on family vacations. Sometimes we listened to Barbra Streisand or Man of La Mancha; sometimes we talked about books or school; sometimes we talked about nothing in particular.

He was willing to be interrupted when he was in his spot on the sofa paying bills, and we didn't hesitate to call him for help when one of my sisters got the stapler stuck to her hand.

He did not shrink from hitting the tennis courts with me nearly every evening of the semester I took tennis for physical education. He was a tennis champion. I was trying to hit the ball accurately enough to pass the class. It must have been exasperating for him, but he kept coming out with me, and at least it was time together. (He coached me into a B for the class. I still enjoy watching the game but have not stepped onto a court since. He fared better with my sisters in the athletic department.)

He also has a knack for making us feel special. At the end of my senior year of high school, the generous parent of one of my Sunday school students gave me a pair of orchestra seats to see West Side Story at the music hall. With two sisters and one seat to fill, I invited my best friend from those years, and we decided to make an evening of it, dress up in formals, and dine at a fancy restaurant.

Dad was smart enough not to let us drive ourselves around Big D alone late at night, so he said he would drive us.  He left work early, but instead of his Chrysler LeBaron, this Lincoln Continental was in our driveway:

He wanted to chauffeur us properly in a limousine, but this was the closest he could rent.

Like a proper driver, he went to my friend's door, walked her out to the car, and helped her in. He took us to the restaurant, ate his own sack lunch in the car, drove us to the musical, and waited (probably with a book) until time to drive us home. I think Mom accompanied him to keep him company, but I don't remember for certain, probably due to the pretend glass barrier between the front and back seats.

These photos lay in a box I recently sorted, and the memories made me smile as a typical example of the thoughtfulness of my dad and how well he has cared for us.

In the last two decades, he has also lavished that care and attention on children in local apartment complexes, orphans across the ocean, and the staff and congregation where he serves as deacon in a painful season of transition.

My dad is a gift from God, and it was a gift to spend the afternoon with him yesterday. It has never been difficult for me to understand the Father-love of God because of the way my dad loves me, and for that I'm so very grateful. If you did not know that kind of love from your earthly father, may the Lord dazzle you with His healing love and delight. Your Father is very fond of you.

The LORD is compassionate and gracious,

slow to anger and rich in faithful love. 

He will not always accuse us

or be angry forever. 

He has not dealt with us as our sins deserve

or repaid us according to our offenses.

For as high as the heavens are above the earth,

so great is His faithful love

toward those who fear Him.

Psalm 103:8-11, HCSB

More gifts from God last week:
successful wrist surgery for Mom
an afternoon on the sofa with her, watching her favorite musical
a preliminary diagnosis of my foot pain as the beginnings of a stress fracture
2.5 extra pounds of walking boot on my right leg for a few weeks
a car and extra stamina to spend an evening and a morning seeking a shoe for the other foot that doesn't make my back hurt
opportunities to testify of God's goodness to two of the store employees in that long morning
permission to discontinue my blood pressure medication (possibly a result of the other recent medication change)
book talk with sister and dad
protection from hail and damaging weather
suppers I didn't have to plan or prepare for 5 of the last 6 nights
new phone I'm slowly learning to use
a lovely seafood date with my beloved
his wise counsel and insight
sermon on one of my favorite Old Testament narratives (2 Chron. 20)
an afternoon with my dad
my husband the grill-master
our heavenly Father, the source of every good and perfect gift
(#6384-6400)

Three Keys to Happiness {Psalm 84}

How lovely is Your dwelling place,

Lord of Hosts. 

I long and yearn

for the courts of the Lord;

my heart and flesh cry out for the living God.

Even a sparrow finds a home,

and a swallow, a nest for herself

where she places her young—

near Your altars, Lord of Hosts,

my King and my God.

Psalm 84:1-3, HCSB

Our house sparrows enjoying the suet

1. Dwell in praise and God's presence (v.4):

How happy are those who reside in Your house,

who praise You continually. 

2. Find strength in Him to keep journeying on, even through the valley of weeping (v.6), toward our true Home (v.5):

Happy are the people whose strength is in You,
whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.

3. Put your trust in the LORD of hosts (v.12):

Happy is the person who trusts in You,
Lord of Hosts!

Lord, You define happiness so differently from the world around us, from the flesh within us. Raise our eyes toward You in praise. Fix our hearts on following You, no matter what. Grow our trust in You. You are the fountain of all happiness. Grant us grace to receive the joy You offer this day, through Jesus our truest joy. Amen.


This week I have heard God whispering love to me in such specific, tailor-made ways. All thanks and praise to Him for His goodness and gifts:
~this prayer which calls me by name just now
~Corrie ten Boom quotes: "There is nothing too great for God's power; there is nothing too small for His love," and "God has no problems, only plans. There is never panic in heaven."
~her testimony of how God brought her a handkerchief for her cold in the concentration camp, just moments after her sister prayed for one
~encouraging card and note at perfect time
~text and photo message from dear friend
~my friend Courtney's beautiful artwork incorporating poems from here
~new dishwasher, so quiet and effective
~2.5" of rain and an unseasonably cool June day
~new gutters carrying the runoff away from the house (their first test passed)
~happy hour at the frozen yogurt shop near A's office
~lunch with Mom and Dad
~virtual vacation through their travel photos
~a friend's shared song lyrics that spoke to my heart
~the power of a well-told story
~Ebony's tail thumping happily in his sleep
~laughing at the young cardinal who is still figuring out the feeding tray and sometimes comes up with a seed all over her face

~arrangements for surgery Tuesday to repair Mom's broken wrist have come together quickly after discovery that the bones moved
~my cancer survivor friend's good CT results
~more beans, tomatoes, and blackberries from the garden
(gratitude journal, #6265-6283)

"Jesus Doeth All Things Well"

From time to time, usually when my pain spikes and I can't pinpoint any particular misbehavior on my part which caused it, the what ifs attack. What if the doctor has misdiagnosed my pain? What if the long diagnostic delay has made this permanent? What if the medicines are more harm than help?

A friend and new breast cancer survivor tells me she thinks these anxieties come with the territory of prolonged or chronic illness. For her, every new twinge could be the first warning that the cancer has returned. For both of us, some of these questions are legitimate areas of further medical investigation.

For that reason, two weeks ago I sought a second opinion on a key aspect of my care. Our conversation and the wide variety of tests ordered seem to corroborate some of my concerns, particularly the one about the accuracy of a key element of my medical history.

This raises a new sort of what if, one I had swept under the rug of my thoughts until now. Really, I don't know anything for certain until all the test results are in and the doctor herself interprets them to me. It is still in the realm of possibility, however, that the primary diagnosis which has guided medical decisions for a decade will be revised or even replaced.

That said, I do already know that my what ifs are generally neither helpful nor faithful. If God is sovereign and loving, as the Bible teaches and I believe, no illness or physician error, if that should prove the case, can touch me without His permission. If He has permitted difficulty, it is for my good, for the building up of the body of Christ, and for His glory. He is trustworthy.

Sometimes when the what ifs attack, testimony from someone who has already walked a similar path can penetrate my troubled emotions better than abstract truth. The dominance of narrative in the Spirit-breathed Scriptures makes me think God designed us this way. One day recently, American hymnist Fanny Crosby's witness out of her lifelong blindness provided the help I needed.

Before Fanny Crosby had reached two months of age, a common cold resulted in permanent blindness when a newcomer to the town treated her in the stead of the regular family physician, who was unavailable at the time. The stranger turned out to be an impostor without any medical training whatever and left town, never to be heard from again.

Concerning this tragedy, Miss Crosby wrote, "In more than eighty-five years, I have not for a moment felt a spark of resentment against him, for I have always believed from my youth up that the good Lord, in His infinite mercy, by this means consecrated me to the work that I am still permitted to do" (Smith and Carlson, Favorite Women Hymn Writers, 32).

What work was that? Teaching at a school for the blind in New York City, becoming the first woman to speak before Congress, befriending Presidents, writing a prodigious quantity of poems and later hymns, and serving the poor. "Indefatigable" comes to mind when I read of her life.

On another note, also from Miss Crosby, these words on prayer also strengthened feeble knees to persist in intercession whether or not I can see any results:

In one of her last messages, she said, "God will answer your prayers better than you think. Of course, one will not always get exactly what he has asked for. . . .  We all have sorrows and disappointments, but one must never forget that, if commended to God, they will issue in good. . . .  His own solution is far better than any we could conceive" (Ibid., 37). 

One of my favorites of her very many hymns is the following one on God's guidance throughout our lives. For some reason, I have never sung it in church that I recall but made its acquaintance instead through the Rich Mullins recording from The World As Best As I Remember It, Vol. 2. (See below for a link to listen on YouTube.) Whether the hymn is new or familiar to you, I pray that you find Miss Crosby's words still speak to your particular need and what ifs today. Jesus doeth all things well, friend. Let's remember how He has done so for us and share our stories with each other.

All the way my Savior leads me;
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy,
Who through life has been my Guide?
Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,
Here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well;
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well.

All the way my Savior leads me,
Cheers each winding path I tread;
Gives me grace for every trial,
Feeds me with the living Bread.
Though my weary steps may falter,
And my soul athirst may be,
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see;
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see.

All the way my Savior leads me
O the fullness of His love!
Perfect rest to me is promised
In my Father’s house above.
When my spirit, clothed immortal,
Wings its flight to realms of day
This my song through endless ages—
Jesus led me all the way;
This my song through endless ages—
Jesus led me all the way.

[If you are reading this in a feed reader or email, you may need to visit the crumbs blog directly to view the video.]

The book cited in the quotes provided most of the information here. The remainder comes from the documentary The Fanny Crosby Story, available to rent and stream at Amazon or for purchase as a DVD at Christianbook.com if it is not available at your local church's library.

The Lord of Hosts

Did we in our own strength confide,

Our striving would be losing;

Were not the right Man on our side,

The man of God's own choosing:

Dost ask who that may be?

Christ Jesus, it is He;

Lord Sabaoth, His name,

From age to age the same,

And He must win the battle.

~Martin Luther, English translation by Frederick H. Hedge

When we sang these words from Luther's martial hymn, "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God," in church yesterday, the name of God in this second verse captured my attention. "Lord Sabaoth, His name": does this line hold any meaning for contemporary Christian disciples? For me, the answer is a decided affirmative.

"Sabaoth" is a phonetic approximation of a Hebrew term which appears more than 500 times in the Old Testament. Approximately 300 of those occurrences combine it with YHWH, the covenant name by which God revealed Himself to Moses before Israel's deliverance from Egyptian bondage. Traditionally, the combination YHWH Sabaoth has been rendered in English Bibles as "LORD of hosts," although the popular NIV translation usually renders it "LORD Almighty."

That "of hosts" part, the Sabaoth in the name, refers to the vast angelic armies ("hosts") Scripture teaches are invisibly engaged in serving "those who will inherit salvation" (Hebrews 1:14). Joshua received a glimpse into this spiritual battle (Josh. 5:13-15), as did Daniel (Daniel 10) and Elisha's servant (2 Kings 6:11-17).

"LORD of hosts," then, depicts the one true, living God as the commander of the heavenly armies. It is a military title, evoking the warrior God the children of Israel praised after the Red Sea crossing (Exodus 15:3). Even James and Paul employ this title, transliterating it from the Hebrew just as Luther does in his hymn (Romans 9:29; James 5:4).The Lord Jesus Himself appears in this role in Revelation 19:11-16, where John writes this:

I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and makes war.  His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God. The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean. Out of his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. “He will rule them with an iron scepter.” He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written:

king of kings and lord of lords.

What has this to do with us? We are not engaged in armed conquest of the Promised Land. Perhaps this imagery even offends our pacifist sensibilities. Sometimes this facet of God's character honestly makes me uncomfortable. Considering God as Father, Bridegroom, or Shepherd feels more cozy and consoling, yet even in Psalm 23, David takes comfort in the Lord's rod and staff, means not only of leading the sheep but also of defending them against deadly predators.


Why would the revelation that Yahweh our God is commander-in-chief of mighty, invisible heavenly armies be a comfort to David or to us?


When we are besieged by seemingly unrelenting trials and afflictions, wave after wave of difficult and sorrowful circumstances, it steadies us to know

The Lord of Hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our stronghold (Psalm 46:7, HCSB).

When beset by fears, doubts, and temptations, it comforts me to know that the battle to take every thought captive is not only mine, but God's:

The  Lord of Hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our stronghold (Psalm 46:7, HCSB).

When bullied by the wealthy and powerful,

The  Lord of Hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our stronghold (Psalm 46:7, HCSB).

When beleaguered by poverty, imprisonment, or even death because of faith in Christ, it sustains hope to know the enemies of the gospel do not have the final word but that vindication is coming:

The  Lord of Hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our stronghold (Psalm 46:7, HCSB).

The strong God of the Bible is no less so today. If enemies material or immaterial overwhelm you, dear crumble, take heart: you are not facing this battle alone. Far from it! If you are a child of this warrior God through faith in Christ Jesus, how will He leave you undefended?

If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things? Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us" (Romans 8:31-32, 35, 37, NASB).

 Did we in our own strength confide,

Our striving would be losing;

Were not the right Man on our side,

The man of God's own choosing:

Dost ask who that may be?

Christ Jesus, it is He;

Lord Sabaoth, His name,

From age to age the same,

And He must win the battle.

Lord God of hosts, we praise you for your great might. It humbles us to the dust to consider that You promise to assert Your power on our behalf, in our defense. Some days we are especially conscious that we need a fierce warrior. Thank You that You will not let us down. When our enemies and temptations seem too much to bear and we are grasshoppers in their sight, help us believe that You, the Commander of angelic armies, have no difficulty overcoming them. We ask Your protection and defense against whatever assails us today. O Lord God of hosts, hear our prayer in Your mercy, for Jesus's sake. Amen.

Thanks be to God

for revealing Himself in the Bible,

for His whole character, even or especially the parts that stretch my trust,

for fighting our battles,

for giving us sure refuge,

for the confidence that nothing can in the end defeat Jesus, the Faithful and True King of Kings,

for the battles that open us up to experience this part of God's character,

for new light on old hymns,

for the profound theology we sing in them,

for a relatively quiet week,

for lab tests trickling in, exposing how much I still have to learn about my own health,

for my mom's broken wrist not requiring surgery,

for celebrating a friend's daughter's wedding from afar and sharing another friend's sorrows,

for new gutters to match A's beautiful paint job on the house,

for no less grace and might available for this week ahead than the week behind,

for the LORD of hosts with us, the God of Jacob our stronghold.

(from the gratitude list, #6200-6214)

sharing in community with Ann, Laura, Michelle, and Jen today: