Just like Judas

This morning's Sunday School lesson was difficult for me. I was portraying Judas Iscariot, the betrayer of Jesus. I screamed and yelled as I voiced his frustrations. Three years, wasted! Following a Messiah who refused to act! Who gathered no army! Who would never take the reigns from Rome! Judas, who determined the only way to get his way was to betray Him. Who ate bread that Christ Himself dipped in wine, and then left to rat Him out. Who took 30 pieces of silver and gave them God.

I became Judas, who fell to the ground with the others when Jesus merely spoke His name. Judas, who watched Him captured, tortured, and killed. Judas, whose heart was blackened by lies, by greedy desires, and by a betrayal that could never be undone. Judas, whose master plan unraveled as the Master that he'd served slowly died.

As I finished my skit, I fled the room just as I imagine Judas might have. Running from the scene, the sin, the Savior. I finally sat on the cold concrete floor, crying. The reality of my own sin, my lies, my many betrayals stung me. I am Judas, the betrayer. I am the one who sold God to Satan for the sake of my own ambitions. I am just like him...

Except for hope. I sat there, knowing how much I deserve hatred. Knowing how impossible it is to undo my sin. And knowing that God Himself sees it all. He sees me and He knows...O the things He knows. I felt the whole weight of darkness, the darkness that must have pressed in on Judas, pressing down on me too. Except for hope. The hope of Easter which reminds me that death doesn't conquer, that God triumphs over betrayal. That He loves. He heals. He forgives.

Today in my lesson, I felt the whole horror of that Good Friday as I saw myself in the role of the villian. Then these words in Romans came to my mind. They seeped like a salve into my soul. I am so blessed that for me, even though so much of me is just like Judas, every day is Easter. I pray that it will be true for you, too.

"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

For the law of the Spirit of life in Jesus Christ

has set you free from the law of sin and death."

--Romans 8:1-2

Priceless

No Mere Man

The night of betrayal

Silent and still

As Jesus knelt praying

for the Father's will

.

His friends and followers

Asleep by the trees

While sweatdrops and teardrops

Accompanied pleas

.

Then clatter and horror

A cohort from Rome

Quickens the darkness

They rise with a groan

.

The betrayer at hand

Gives the kiss of death

The angels of God

Must be holding their breath

.

The Creator and Savior

Asks "Whom do you seek?"

Knowing the answer

Before they even speak.

.

"The Nazarene" is the shout

And then comes His reply

"You have found him," says Jesus

"It is I"

.

In the man named Jesus

What they'd sought and found

They did not even know

Til they fell to the ground

.

They had come before

The great I AM

Though dressed only in robes

In the form of a man

.

And felled by the power

In just His name

Those soldiers were stunned

And gasped in pain

.

It must have been minutes

Until they could rise

It must have been murder

That light in their eyes

.

For they bound Him and took Him

To an illegal trial

And they had to have known

The entire while

.

That a simple "I am"

From a mere man is naught

That He had to be God

And He chose to be caught

.

That for their very own souls

He willingly walked

Away from that hill

And went to the cross

.

And it pierces my heart

How He died on that tree

Like the soldiers I fall

When He says "I am He"

.

For there is no other name

with power to save

He was no mere man

Who our sins forgave

***

"And there is salvation in no one else;

for there is no other name under heaven

that has been given among men

by which we must be saved."

--Acts 4:12

Uninspired

Kid birthday pictures. Grocery shopping. Pineapple salsa. Green chino curtains.

These are the sorts of things that occupy my mind and time. Well, those and destroying the kitchen cupboards while attempting to spruce them up by changing the drawer pulls. Who knew chipboard was so fragile? My husband is NOT going to be happy.

In the midst of the million and one details of the day, I am finding it a challenge to channel any creativity at all. What in the world is worth mention in my mundane life? At the moment, nothing newsworthy springs to mind.

Except maybe spring itself. The tulips are showing a bit today. That little spark of green amid the mud and muck speaks hope into my winter-weary heart. But today I can't even find a paragraph for the tulips. A line is my limit.

Laundry machine buzzing. Baby crying. Dog whining. Dirty dishes waiting.

Always some sort of obligation pending. I feel like my words have been pressed out, leaving me like a dried olive husk. The richness of their oil is sauteeing the peppers for the pineapple salsa, but nothing remains within me to season my story.

House Fire

Ever been asked that question "If your house was on fire, and everyone was out safe, what three things would you rescue?" I have, and I've always given what I thought were well-considered answers. Photos of my kids, the bookshelf my grandpa built, my Bible. Well, the past two months have taught me this: I was wrong.

Somewhere around Christmas time, I lost my wedding rings. Now, this would be a tragedy for any wife, but I was in particular angst since the wedding bands my husband and I wear also belonged to my grandparents. These small gold circles already represent 50 years of commitment, love and honor. Add to those the 8 that we have worn them, and you have almost 60 years of history wrapped up in these rings. And I lost them.

I had recently put them on a chain around my neck. Pregnancies and arthritis have made it impossible to wear them on the intended finger, and although I can wear them on my pinky early in the day, by evening my hands are swollen so much that the rings cut off my circulation despite their relocation to the smallest digit. So, I decided the best and safest thing was to put them on chain so I wouldn't need to remove them and possibly misplace them. It was right after this decision that they went missing.

I mean, MISSING. I searched in the couch cushions, under the kids beds, in the laundry, behind and under every piece of furniture. I vacuumed the vents in case they had fallen down a register. I scoured my entire house. The lint trap in the dryer, the toy box, the top of the fridge. I prayed for my rings to return. After weeks of ineffective efforts, and bursting into tears every time a Kay Jeweler commercial came on, I began to wonder if they had been stolen. I was SURE I knew right where I had put that chain the last time I had taken it off...it would have been an easy target just hanging there.

You can't put a price on a person, but if you measured my value in money it couldn't be more than the diamond my husband gave me when he proposed. It is by far the most expensive thing I have ever actually owned (since our house, of course, is still technically owned by the bank). And although love is even more impossible to price than a person, I truly think that these wedding bands represent more heartache, and happiness, sacrifice and joy than any other objects we possess. Other than my children, they are the greatest gifts I have ever been given. And they were gone. Absolutely GONE.

Recently, my sweet spouse snaked the drains in the bathroom. The sinks have gone from slow flow to no flow in the past few months, and I have been on him to fix them. I confess to a secret hope that somehow inside one of the P-traps, there would be my rings. Well, they weren't there, but in the midst of handling this task on his honey-do list, he decided to make it a personal mission to find the rings. And, he did. Hidden in a cracked tile under the sinks...where, mind you, I had looked before. I don't even care that they weren't there when I cleaned in there a month ago, or a week ago, or three days ago. All that matters is that they are back. Around my neck. Where they have been non-stop for three days. I can't bring myself to take them off.

If my house was on fire, and I could rescue three things...two would be my rings. The past two months have taught me that God knows what He's saying when he tells us "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." I never saw before how truly connected my heart was to my wedding rings. They are simply symbols, true. I didn't mourn their material value. I ached at the thought that so much history and love, such a real and physical reminder of it, was absent from my hand. God has given me the example of my Grandparents, their enduring love and faithfulness to one another, and to marriage itself. God has given me a husband who loves me so much he once poured out all his worldly wealth and put it on my finger. I missed them so much that I was just as excited to get them from him this second time as I was the first.

My third item? I dare not guess. God has blessed me with so many, many good things. I'm not sure I'd know what to choose anymore. I have discovered, though, that I need to pay closer attention to the things that hold my heart, to be sure my treasure is in the right place. How about you?

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy, and thieves break in and steal.

But store up for yourselves treasure in heaven where moth and rust do not destroy and thieves do not break in and steal.

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Matthew 6:19-21

Game of Life

Have you ever felt that your life was just not going as planned? That perhaps you missed an essential turn, or stumbled over one too many bad decisions on your course? This week, I feel like a failure at the game of life.

Literally. See, the local pharmacy has been hosting a "Game of Life" promotional for the past month and a half. Similar to a well-known fast food chain who offers "Monopoly" it was a simple matter of collecting tickets, pasting them on a gameboard and gloating over a new kitchen, a 10,000 dollar room makeover, or a cash prize. Woohoo!

I began buying all of my diapers (in my case, a significant expenditure) at said pharmacy. I began buying my bottle liners, and panty liners and eye liners there. I must confess their little promotional game worked well--for THEM. I collected my tickets faithfully, sped home, and slapped them on my game board. I accumulated 34 tickets. Unfortunately, I netted a whopping ZERO prizes.

In nearly every category, I am one shy of the win. No matter the 250,000 mortage or the $20 gift card, I lose by one ticket. One. Ticket. I must say that this mirrors my real life in a depressingly familiar way. It seems I am perpetually one payment late on the bills, one car shy in the drive, one month overdue for a date, one McFlurry too many to succeed at self-control, and one pound from losing a pound.

It takes a minute, and a little work, to remind myself that the pharmacy doesn't get to decide who the winners in life are. My missing tickets have become, I think, a distraction from the one thing that should most define me. My reminder came from the Holy One Himself:

"There is one body and one Spirit, just as also you were called in one hope of your calling;

one Lord, one faith, one baptism,

one God and Father of all who is over all, and through all and in all

but to each one of us grace was given according to the measure of Christ's gift"

--Ephesian 4:4-7

If I have been given grace according to the measure of Christ's gift, why am I whining about not winning a Wii? I may have missed out on a 2010 G37 Convertible Infiniti...but by God's grace I have won the prize of eternity! Woohoo!