A little manna anyone?

Un-Veiled

The smoke from forest fires has blown in and out of western Montana for over a month now. There has been a haze in the air since the first fire ignited but some days the smoke is so heavy and foreboding that it makes me feel trapped, almost claustrophobic. Many of us that live through long winter months look forward to the vitamin D that the sunshine produces. It brings refreshment to our bodies and brightens our moods. The smoke covering has brought with it a wave of depression in some of my friends and we all long for the cool fall days and rains that will put the fires out.

I usually have a spectacular view of the Tobacco Root Mountains out the southern windows and on the deck. They are approximately 5 miles away. Today I can’t see them at all and the nearest fire, producing the smoke we are seeing, is about 60 miles or more away. Even though my view is hindered I saw a way to describe a spiritual truth.

Without knowledge and true faith in Christ many people live in a world that is somewhat hidden. Today, smoke disguises the view, just as the veil of unbelief does to spiritual eyes. Things are happening around us but there is a veil that keeps some from seeing. I prayed for the smoke to be lifted and imagined the view return. It’s a beautiful view of the tree covered mountains, blue skies, and a valley that is green and alive. I wish for my unbelieving family and friends to have their veil lifted so they can see the breathtaking truths that are just beyond it.

2 Corinthians 3:12-18 discusses the veil that once shrouded the glory of God from the Hebrew people because that glory would have been more than they could bear. It goes on to explain that the same veil remained because they refused to see the glory of who Christ was in the scriptures. In verse 15-16 Paul explained, “Even to this day, whenever Moses is read, a veil lies over their hearts, but whenever a person turns to the Lord, the veil is removed.” Paul gives credit to the sovereignty of God in removing the veil for any person that turns to the Lord.

The scriptures have become a part of my soul and I can’t see the world without seeing it through the lens of God’s word. I have a compassionate heart and when I see people I love struggle with some of the trials in life I can’t help but encourage them with scripture. To me, I am opening a flood gate of life-giving water, but to an unbelieving friend (or maybe one who is still at the early stages of knowledge and lacking faith) it seems like mumbo-jumbo or literary quotes that bring no real relief.

“We also speak these things, not in words taught by human wisdom, but in those taught by the Spirit, explaining spiritual things to spiritual people. But the unbeliever does not welcome what comes from God’s Spirit, because it is foolishness to him; he is not able to understand it since it is evaluated spiritually.” 1 Corinthians 2:13-14

At times like that I am utterly aware of the veil that keeps them from the truth. It’s like speaking a foreign language to someone and they can see your facial expression to understand the sentiment and yet they can’t make sense of the words you speak.

The veil lifted gradually for me and now I feel utterly blessed that God chose to reveal Himself and His word to me. How can this happen for you? It says that God removed the veil. Matthew 7:7-8 says, “Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And everyone who knocks the door will be opened.” Ask, seek, and knock my friend. God wants to reveal Himself to you. Open the scriptures and read, He tells you who He is.

May I tell you a story?

August in Michigan is usually pretty warm. The humidity that makes the air feel heavy also makes the temperature feel warmer than what the thermometer shows. The 1972 summer vacation was coming to a close and kids were using the days to wrap up their adventures before school started. August 18th was an ordinary day and it became the birthday of an ordinary girl. As she began to grow and develop a personality she received the nickname ‘Pigpen’ from her mother because she resembled the peanuts character who always moved in a cloud of dust. The hot summer days turned her into a walking dirt magnet. Pigpen was the youngest in her family and well loved. Her red-headed brother who was 3 years older loved her, but he also thought she was a pest and didn’t want her following him and his friends around.

Pigpen’s mother and father were both smokers. In those days smoking was fairly common and smoking in the house and restaurants was a lot more normal than it is today. Smoking took its toll on their family. The children and their father suffered a tremendous loss in 1979 as their mother lost a battle with lung cancer at the age of 42. Joe was left as a single parent to 4 children at the age of 46. Cherie, the oldest, was 22 and Holley was 19. They were positioned as automatic mother replacements for their much younger siblings. Joey was only 9 and Pigpen was 6 when their mother died. Can you imagine being any one of them? They all lost the same person but the effects of that loss on each is so different based on their relation to her, their age, and their new circumstance of life. This could really be five different stories but for now we will focus on Pigpen.

Pigpen’s family moved to a house on Nazareth Rd. just before her mother passed away. There was a little girl who lived right next door that was Pigpen’s age. Pigpen and Cynthia became best-est friends (I know best-est isn’t a real word but the two girls decided that their friendship was better than best, so they coined the term best-est). Pigpen and Cynthia spent the whole summer together. They rode bikes, played with their adventure people and Barbies, swam in Cynthia’s pool for hours and hours, played hopscotch, and baked cookies. There was never a dull moment when the two girls were together. Sometimes the whole neighborhood of kids gathered in the spare lot down the road to play kick-the-can, king on the mountain, freeze tag, or a good ole game of kickball. Everyone groaned when the street-lights came on because they were supposed to head home. The summers were like this every year of Pigpen’s childhood. They were fun and mostly spent close to home. There wasn’t a lot of funds or time for vacation with only a single Dad running the house and finances.

Our dirty little Pigpen ran around all summer barefooted, calloused from the hot pavement. She had long blonde hair that she parted in the middle and held back with a clip barrette on each side to keep it out of her sweaty little face. The consequence for Pigpen being around cigarette smoke her whole life was the stale aroma that accompanied her wherever she went. She was unaware of it at the time, but anyone that didn’t live in a smoking environment would have noticed. She was not a remarkable girl. Even as she grew-up she didn’t stand out in a crowd. She wasn’t musical, not gifted in academics, she wasn’t athletic, she couldn’t even do a cartwheel. She was loved but she certainly didn’t achieve accolades or gain attention, she wasn’t really special at all. Her senior year of high school required a speech class, she was so nervous to speak in front of people that she convinced her advisor to let her substitute that class for a writing class. She was a happy girl but wasn’t exceptional at anything, she wasn’t even good at getting in trouble.

The summer Pigpen was 8 Cynthia invited her to go to church camp for a week. Pigpen was excited to go and even though she thought it seemed incredibly expensive her Dad wrote the check and sent her on her way. They went to camp together for several years and made lots of memories. The camp they attended was on the beach of Lake Michigan and packed with games, swimming, singing and bible lessons. Pigpen stored a memory from one of the first nights of music and songs. The leader played the guitar and led the kids in a prayer. Pigpen closed her eyes and imagined herself sitting in the palm of this Jesus she was hearing about; he calmly swayed her back and forth as she prayed the prayer. Pigpen felt like she and Jesus were the only two left in the room and she invited Him into her heart. Pigpen’s life didn’t change much at that time and quite truthfully I don’t think she realized the gravity of the invitation she extended or to whom she was inviting (or why).

Cynthia’s parents were instrumental in the invitation to summer camp and their Christian lifestyle was a lesson to Pigpen. It was a lesson on faith, kindness, goodness and clean living. Unbeknownst to them they were role-models to the little girl who lived next door and their impact on her life was huge. They welcomed her into their smoke-free home despite her stale odor and never once turned up their nose.

As Pigpen grew and matured she left the house and got married. It was time to start a family. When Pigpen gave birth her first child, she remembered Cynthia’s family and knew a return to church was the only way to raise that baby girl. God remembered Pigpen, He remembered when she sat in His palm and asked Him into her heart. She had knocked at His door, she asked Him into relationship with her, and now she began to seek Him. He was delighted in Pigpen. Zephaniah 3:17 says, “He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will bring you quietness with His love. He will delight in you with shouts of joy.” He didn’t see an unremarkable girl. He saw a special girl that He created in her mother’s womb (Psalm 139). God opened the door and grabbed hold of that smelly little girl and called her his own; “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine,” Isaiah 43:1.

That girl is me! I am that smelly little pigpen. God doesn’t see through a veil. He sees clearly. He knows what and who He created. We are the ones who don’t see clearly. God’s word says that I don’t smell like an ashtray but the “fragrance of Christ.”

“But thanks be to God, who always puts us on display in Christ and through us spreads the aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place. For to God we are the fragrance of Christ among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.” 2 Corinthians 2:14-15

Lift your hands to the Lord! Even when you find your start in the dirt!

If I could only explain the magnitude of my thanksgiving to God for lifting the veil and letting me see who He is and what He has done. I am humbled before Him, and yet I run to Him daily. I have asked over and over, why me? Why did you choose that smelly little girl who isn’t really good at anything? A little girl that can’t speak in front of people because she’s afraid of being judged. A woman who lives in a tiny town in Montana, for heaven’s sake. A woman who is over-weight and easily persuaded to believe she isn’t beautiful. A woman who was divorced. A woman who doesn’t have it all together. Why did you lift the veil for me? Why me?

He loves me! And guess what? He loves you too! Ask, knock, seek! You will not be disappointed. The creator of the universe calls your name. You are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139, I could quote it for days so just look it up). The power of my emotion comes alive when I listen and sing some of my favorite worship songs. If you want to hear how my story feels look up the songs: “Living Hope” by Phil Wickham, and “Glorious Day” by Passion (and turn them up!).

Paul encouraged the Corinthian people with these words and I find encouragement from them as well.

“You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, recognized and read by everyone. It is clear that you are Christ’s letter, produced by us, not written with ink but with the Spirit of the living God—not on stone tablets but on tablets that are hearts of flesh,” 2 Corinthians 3:2-3.

Do you understand? The Corinthians were taught by Paul who was taught by Christ. They were letters of flesh and blood. Cynthia’s parents were Christ’s letter and I read them. Now I am Christ’s letter, not written with ink but by the Spirit of the living God. He lifted the veil for me so that you could see His light in me. Don’t look at me because you will only see the smelly little pigpen, but look for Christ who lives in me! Look for Christ. He will lift the veil. He will blow the smoke away. And you will see clearly.