Peace for the Journey | Elaine Olsen

on holding the suitcase…

May 26, 2010

“You hold the flowers, Elaine, I’ll handle the suitcase.”

This is what God wants me to know this day, nearly a year after he impressed it into my soul. It was the statement that led to this…

Most everything about the front cover of my book was intentionally planned.

The ripe wheat.
The evening sky.
The path with a bend in the road.
Trees in the distance, framing the scene.
Enough blue heaven to hold the title.
The kids… my kids.
The similar nature of their clothing.
The shadows they cast.
The holding of hands.
The look between them.
The beat-up suitcase.
My son carrying that suitcase.
The Gerber daisies.
My daughter carrying those daisies.

What I didn’t plan on back then was the outcome… the completed look… the finished product… the culminating portrait that paints a message all its own. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this cover releases the witness of at least a million or so; not because I had anything to do with it, but rather because God did. Long before the fifty-two reflections made their way into the interior, God had been working on the exterior. Only God can paint the eternal witness of a single moment. From his vantage point, he sees the bigger picture—the end result—and without hesitation, he picks up the paintbrush and works his truth into the mix.

I have no idea what God intends to do with this cover or with the written contents that reside within. I only know that the impression he put into my soul a year ago, is one that remains this day. It will remain for my children and their children, on down the line for generations to come. A worthy word for them and for all of us who are treading this earthly sod with a healthy respect for the temporal nature of the soil beneath our feet and for the season that lies ahead… the one just beyond the bend in our “down the road.”

“You hold the flowers, child, I’ll handle the suitcase.”

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light (Matt. 11:28-20).

I’ll handle the suitcase; you take charge of the flowers.

It’s all that God has assigned to us this day… the picking and the holding of his generous grace.

He can handle the wholly… holy… rest of it.

You’ve got a bigger picture, friends, and our Father can be trusted with the paintbrush. Believe him for it today, and thanks, Sheri, for the prompt. I needed it. As always…

peace for the journey,

settting the stage for the divine "yes"

May 23, 2010

“I appeal to you for my son, Onesimus, who became my son while I was in chains. Formerly he was useless to you, but now he has become useful both to you and to me. I am sending him—who is my very heart—back to you.” (Philemon 10-12).

I’m not going to lie to you… last week was a rough week. Some weeks are like that. I’ve come to expect them; certainly not enjoy them, ask for them, lay awake in hopeful anticipation of them, just expect them. It is the way of pilgrimage.

Some days walk with the rich reminder of everything that’s good and right and pure in this life. Some days walk with the reminder of the treacherous terrain that anchors beneath our feet, reminding us again of the chasm that exists between our flesh and our faith—our “now” and our “next.” My prayer is to never get stuck there, to stay mired in the frustration and emotion of it all, but instead, to believe beyond the earth’s current deceitfulness and to take hold of God’s promise of perspective—to see what he sees and to live the kingdom possibilities therein.

With God, there’s always a better day coming. Always. And today was that day for me.

This morning I did what I’ve been doing for the past several years. I walked into the Friendship Sunday School class and settled into my spot. It won’t be long before that spot belongs to someone else. These are precious days for my family and me. We’re down to the short rows of our time here, and while it might be easier to begin the slow fade from the presence of those I’ve come to dearly love (thus making the “cut” a bit easier when June 22nd arrives) it’s harder to stay away from them. They are my family, and these “ancients” who have so graciously invested their hearts and love into me over the past six years have left a kingdom imprint across my soul. Thus, I cling to them rather than retreat from their witness.

At the last moment, our regular teacher for the morning called in sick (is that allowed in church?), and as a “fill-in” for such occasions I made a quick review of the morning lesson via our quarterly. I grabbed my Who’s Who and Where’s Where in the Bible before heading out the door, fully expecting the Lord to show up despite my lack of preparation. Today’s text?

Philemon. Twenty-five verses of holy writ nestled in between Paul’s letters to Timothy and the book of Hebrews. A letter in the New Testament that is easily missed if one isn’t intent on finding it. A single page of witness written by the gracious hand of Paul—a letter to one of Paul’s earlier converts named Philemon on behalf of Onesimus (Philemon’s runaway slave who had recently been converted via Paul’s ministry during his confinement in a Roman prison cell).

There are so many angles to this story, so many lessons to be learned about forgiveness and love and the treatment of fellow human beings, especially those who are brothers and sisters in the faith. We’re not given many of the details in these twenty-five verses. We can’t even be certain regarding how Paul’s appeal worked itself out in the end, both for Philemon and for Onesimus. We can be certain that, in fact, there was a grand conclusion to the story, but we’ll have to wait for heaven to live the details. It’s a story I want to see replayed in living color, but until then, I’m left to my imagining. What moves me the most about this story is the profound witness of one man who was, not only chained to his prison cell, but who was more fervently chained to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Paul didn’t let his prison status confine his witness. He didn’t let his captivity define him. Instead, he took hold of those prison walls and shook their foundations with the revelatory truth of a wooden cross and an empty tomb and the gracious God who loved his people enough to make it all happen. It is told that prison officials learned to change Paul’s guards regularly because if they were with Paul for any length of time, they became believers. We have no way of verifying the authenticity of that story, but we certainly can authenticate the only God who is able to interject his grace and witness into the most dire of occasions, even penetrating through steel bars and cement blocks to make sure his grace isn’t missed. It happened for Onesimus, and therefore, these twenty-five verses of grace-filled endorsement from the hand of Paul.

Paul’s kindness toward Onesimus—his very heart—is what means the most to me about this story tonight. I’ll chew on the other lessons in the upcoming week, but today, Paul’s “backing up” of a sinner is what leads my heart toward stronger devotion and my thoughts toward a deeper pondering. What am I willing to do for those brothers and sisters in Christ who sit within arm’s reach of my personal influence?

Paul wrote a letter on behalf of Onesimus to his former slave-master, Philemon. In doing so, Paul set the stage for a positive outcome—not just for Onesimus but for the greater good, God’s kingdom of good. Paul used persuasive language, his tenacious passion for all things Jesus, and the unwavering truth of the Gospel, to plead his case for kingdom favor to be granted toward Onesimus. Paul set Philemon up for a divine “yes.” Paul made is easier for Philemon to do the right thing—God’s right thing. And while we don’t know the outcome of that set up, history does record that “…about fifty years later, a church leader named Ignatius wrote a letter to the church leader at Ephesus—Bishop Onesimus. Onesimus the former slave? Possibly.” [Stephen Miller, Who’s Who and Where’s Where in the Bible (Urichsville, OH: Barbour Publishing, 2004), 293.]

I like to imagine it. I like to think that the church back then “got it” better than we “get it” now. That they were willing to love beyond borders and social class and poverty status and ethnicity to “be the church” and to grow the kingdom in accordance with the lavish grace of the cross. That there was no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female (Gal. 5:8), but that all were considered worthy of the blood that was shed by God’s Son. That, in fact, when Onesimus delivered Paul’s letter to Philemon, the servants were called and the fattened calf was slaughtered and a party, unlike any seen before in Ephesus, was given in honor of the saint named Onesimus—the one who was once lost as a slave but who now was found as a brother.

That’s the way I hoped it happened back then. Even more so, I hope it is the way it happens right now. That I, like Paul, would be willing to…

be chained to the Gospel of Jesus Christ;
be fervently deliberate in the opening up of my heart and mouth regarding that Gospel;
be an advocate for those who are coming into the kingdom and who need a “set up” for a divine “yes” from someone else.

I want to stand in the corner of my brothers and sisters in Christ, despite the earthly barriers that sometime separate us, and campaign for their kingdom favor. Not because it makes me look good or because I’m after a bigger crown or because I desire the praise of humanity, but rather because my championing on their behalf speaks of the goodness of my Jesus and of his royal crown and of his praise for his created. He has done no less for each one of us. He has written a letter on our behalf to his Father, championing our hearts before the throne and calling us worthy of kingdom favor. Accordingly, how can we do any less?

There will be a few people within your arm’s reach this week who need the benefit of your “come-alongside” kind of grace, friends. Those who are weak in the faith and who deserve the witness of your love. For Paul it was his pen. For us, it will be other things. Our time, our prayers, our money, our intervention, our courage, our voices, our willingness to bend and to bow and to get our hands dirty when we’d much prefer the cleanliness of an upright posture. We need to relinquish our pens to the heart of Father God and to allow him to write his letter of commendation through us on behalf of his people. We are the advocates of a great kingdom and a great grace. We need to set the stage for a divine “yes” from those who’ve yet to follow-through on the practice of their preaching.

With God there’s always a better day coming, and that day is today. Not just for us, but for those who need the truth of a Father’s love. It comes in the form of our obedience to stand alongside them and lobby for the kingdom favor that is rightfully theirs because of the collective grace of the cross.

This is the witness of my Sunday morning walk to Sunday school. This is what I learned, and with that, I’ve turned a corner. The week ahead doesn’t look nearly as bleak as the one previously lived. This is the way of pilgrimage. To believe beyond the earth’s current deceitfulness and to take hold of God’s promise of perspective—to see what he sees and to live the kingdom possibilities therein.

Indeed, a better day. I knew it was coming. I pray such a “coming” for you this week. As always…

peace for the journey,

~elaine

PS: The winners of peace for the journey: in the pleasure of his company are Gladwell and Cindy @ Consider it All Joy. Please send me your snail mail, and I’ll get these to you ASAP. We’ll have another give-away in coming days, but for those of you who’ve yet to get a copy, ordering information is available by clicking here. Thank you for all of your support! Shalom.

one thing

May 19, 2010

{photo compliments of Shirley}

I asked God to reveal to me one thing about himself this morning during our quiet time. One thing that, perhaps, I’ve missed up to this point, or one thing that I needed brought to my remembrance… again.

Just one thing, for one thing was all that I needed to buoy me along through another day’s living and another day’s weariness. He gave me that one thing via a few verses I’ve read before. Perhaps they are familiar to you as well:

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you may also be where I am.” (John 14:1-3).

Prepare. The word “hetoimazo” in Greek meaning “to make the necessary preparations, get everything ready.” Further still… “drawn from the oriental custom of sending on before kings on their journeys persons to level the roads and make them passable.” (www.studylight.org)

Oriental custom or not, I think Jesus Christ set the standard in this matter. My God sent his Son ahead of me—heiress to a royal throne—to make level the road in front of me so that I might find my way home to him in order to receive the crown of righteousness that awaits my retrieval. I have royal blood running through my veins, and I have a King who has made the most extraordinary sacrifice on my behalf to insure that I be granted a room and a robe in his kingdom.

One thing.

And my heart is less troubled… my trust more secure.

How I love my Jesus more for giving me his “one thing” today.

It is enough.

He is enough.

Knowing God, and then out of that knowing, leading others to know the same. May you know him more today. As always…

peace for the journey,

PS: Winners for my book will be drawn with the next post. See details with the previous post.

the riches of knowing God…

May 17, 2010

{I love my kids… front yard PR!}

“What are you going to do with all your riches, Elaine, now that you’re famous?”

This was the question that assaulted me this morning when I walked through the doors of the church. It was said in jest with good intention, still and yet, it stuck with me.

All my riches.

How do I begin to measure the bounty that I have known at the hand of God, not just over the past couple of weeks, but the entirety of the past forty-four years? It’s an impossible endeavor to be sure, but one I’m trying to work my way through in this season of my life. We should all take time to pause in order to consistently contemplate our riches. It is the “way” of a grateful heart. And so today I’ve taken that occasion… spent some time reflecting and remembering the riches of God.

How well I remember a December day four years ago when my writing dreams were shattered by a publishing company that had held onto my first manuscript for nearly eight months. It was my first attempt at writing a book, a Bible study on the book of Nehemiah. I was certain it would “hit the mark” with publishers and, for a season, all seemed to be clicking along.

Until that day.

I received a courteous but succinct “pass” on my work, and I was crushed. I still remember my young son standing on the other side of a closed bedroom door, listening to my guttural weeping. Before long, I saw his tiny fingers reaching through the crack at the bottom, clutching in his hand two quarters. After opening the door to his generosity, I asked him regarding those two quarters. His reply?

“I’ll buy your book, mommy. Even if no one else wants to read it, I’ll buy it, and when I’m old enough to read, I’ll read it.”

That day was a turning point for me. My son’s two quarters sealed something in my heart… something I’d known for a long season, yet something I hadn’t allowed myself to believe.

My giftedness with the pen is fueled and maintained by my Father’s heart and kindness toward me. His willingness to use my feeble flesh for his kingdom purposes is far beyond my understanding and doesn’t compute with human reasoning. Still and yet, he allows me a measure of influence along these lines and, therefore, I must write for him alone. His approval is the only one that matters to me. Man’s opinion will come and go, mostly based on the bottom dollar and with a “what’s in it for me” attitude, but God’s opinion isn’t fleeting. It doesn’t come with an expiration date. My words leave a lasting impression upon his heart and in his world, and when those words write otherwise—when I am tempted to offer up a “flavoring” in keeping with trends and statistics and with “what’s selling”—then I forfeit a piece of my soul. The world becomes too important to me, and I lose focus of the truly satisfying and singularly focused passion of my heart…

Knowing God.

As a people in search of a meaningful identity, we spend a great deal of time exploring our “passions,” do we not? We invest our energies into discovering God’s calling upon our lives, God’s will for lives, wearing ourselves out with comparing our lives to that of “so and so” and wondering why his or her fruit is harvesting at a seemingly more rapid rate than ours. Why that person seems to be getting all the breaks while we languish in our desire to do something, be something, live something more than what we’re currently living. We make God’s “calling” regarding our lives a difficult embrace (something our market has hit upon as evidenced by the number of books, seminars, Bible studies written on the topic) when all the while, he keeps it pretty simple.

“Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.” (John 17:3).

Knowing God. It’s what I’m about. He’s my passion. He’s my calling. He’s my meaningful identity, and for the time that remains for me on this earth, my pen will write accordingly… about my knowing God and then from that knowing, leading others to know the same. Therefore, I no longer feel the need to chase after the approval of man. It’s nice when it arrives to validate my heart-felt rendering, like when…

My mother takes my book to Curves (her workout establishment) and witnesses other patrons reading the desk copy she’s left there for promotional purposes. When one of those patrons voices her approval by saying, “This is really good; how can I get a copy?”

Or when…

A friend I’ve never met face-to-face from the opposite side of the country sends me an e-mail to let me know she’s spent some time in the “desert” section of the book and that the reflection entitled “a turn toward the better” was just what she needed to hear… “These are words of life, dear heart. They are something one can weep over because of shared pain: different in specific, similar in cost. But more importantly these are fighting words for me. The journey ahead is unclear, but walk it I will. Not at all in the spirit of my own might but in the spirit of the blood of the resurrection bloom. These are words, unusual words, that excite to love and good works.”

Or when…

Another e-mail arrives from a former college friend telling me that a copy of my book (one that her dad insisted on her purchasing last week) arrived on her doorstep just twenty-four hours before he passed from his earthly pain into final heavenly glory and that her heart’s been stuck on pages 84-86, from the “peace in the suffering” section.

Or when…

A church friend makes her way to my side this morning to tell me that, while she knows she’s supposed to be taking her time to absorb each reflection, she couldn’t help but “read on” because, for her, it was like I was talking to her… like we were having a conversation over coffee.

Moments like that; validation that doesn’t necessarily come with the ratings of a New York Times’ best-seller, but validations that matter for all eternity. It stuns me and buoys me along in the journey of grace and for the continuing cultivation of the driving desire and goal of my heart…

Knowing God.

And so, this night I answer the question that assaulted my sensibilities this morning. What am I going to do with all my riches now that I’m famous?

Make God famous and continue to invest his riches into my heart and life so that my pen might flow freely for his good purposes and for his kingdom gain. All other endeavors of my well-intentioned plans fall prey to this one. Therefore, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart leave a lasting impression upon his heart and within the hearts of his people. To this end, I pray. I pray the same for you. As always…

Peace for the journey,

PS: Thank you, everyone, for your support over the last couple of weeks in regards to the promotion of my book. This week, I’ll be giving away another copy or two of my book to those of you who are willing to support me a bit further by contacting at least five people in your life who’ve yet to hear about “peace for the journey.” Perhaps someone in your e-mail address book, someone in your church, someone in your family, someone in your neighborhood. If you’d be willing to let at least five new people know about my book (and we’re operating on the honor system here), please let me know in the comment section. Please share the video link with your contacts, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdJDjiHzCQI or a link to this post announcing the book, https://www.peaceforthejourney.com/2010/05/peace-for-journey-in-pleasure-of-his.html. I’d be so very grateful for your kindness toward me and toward God’s kingdom agenda for my life. Shalom.

{to order, click Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Winepress}

"… live on"

May 12, 2010

{For you, friend, you know who you are.}

“… and yet we live on.” (2 Corinthians 6:9)

My right hand is aching this morning. Truth be known, it ached all night… a sharp twinge located in the center of my hand, just below my middle knuckle. I’ve felt it before. It flares up from time to time when my fingers and keyboard collide at a rapid, unrelenting rate. This has been one of those times for me… one of those weeks that has authored an unusual amount of connection between my fingertips and my computer. I don’t mind it much; I really don’t think about it often, especially while in mid-typing mode. But when the computer screen grows dim and the lights go out and my hands find their rest at my side, the pain sets in reminding me of an important truth regarding the call of Jesus Christ upon my life.

Kingdom work is sometimes flanked by the painful ache of a sacred obedience.

If we are Christians, if we dare to name ourselves with the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, then we are to be heartily invested in his kingdom business. We don’t get a pass when it comes to doing God’s work. Vocationally speaking, we may hold a variety of titles behind our names, but spiritually speaking, the only holding of our hearts that matters is the One who titles us as his. And when we get this—when we finally arrive at the place of realizing that all of our earthly endeavors are meant to be the fertile soil upon which the King sows his seed—then we readily accept the fullness of that calling, ills and aches included.

The Apostle Paul understood the strain between a painful ache and a sacred obedience. He willingly chose his “ache,” chaining himself to the Gospel of Jesus Christ and believing that every temporal pain of his flesh was achieving for him an eternal glory that far outweighed them all. At any point along the way, Paul could have chosen otherwise… could have freed himself from the physical and emotional misery that invaded his flesh. Instead, he persevered in great travail and suffering so that the church might know the culminating truth of the cross. So that the church would grow. So that you and I, some 2000 years down the road, might know what it is to “live on” despite the carnage and chaos going on around us and in us. But don’t take my word on it; take his…

“Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way:
in great endurance;
in troubles, hardships and distresses;
in beatings, imprisonments and riots;
in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger;
in purity, understanding, patience and kindness;
in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love;
in truthful speech and in the power of God;
with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left;
through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report;
genuine, yet regarded as impostors;
known, yet regarded as unknown;
dying, and yet we live on;
beaten, and yet not killed;
sorrowful, yet always rejoicing;
poor, yet making many rich;
having nothing, and yet possessing everything.” (2 Corinthians 4:4-10).

I’d never seen it before… Paul’s “live on.” When reading this familiar passage I’m tempted to stay mired in the pain of it all, in imagining how my own life fits into the litany of sufferings he vividly details in his letter to the church at Corinth. Yet it’s there… two simple words that admonished the readers back then and the readers right now to “live on.” To not stay entrenched in the ache of our sacred obedience to Jesus Christ, but to “live on” in spite of it. To press on to take hold of all of that for which Christ has taken hold of us. To keep putting one spiritual foot of faith in front of the other until we press through to victory and can realize, even as Paul realized, that we possess everything, even though the world labels our possession as nothing.

The painful ache of a sacred obedience.

Some of you are living your ache today. Some of you are all too familiar with Paul’s suffering because yours, at some level, mirrors his. You may not be locked in a prison cell or experiencing the physical trauma of a flogging, but I imagine there are many of you who feel the emotional and spiritual intensity of some chains and some wearing and tearing away of your flesh that feels comparable in their depth to Paul’s.

Some of you are expending a lot of your faith on behalf of God’s kingdom gain while seeing little results. Some of you are standing on the front lines of a tenacious, spiritual battle where the line is wearing thin and your reserves have run for cover leaving you alone to fight it through to victory. Some of you are tired; sleepless nights have claimed your good sense and the energy for a new day has long since been usurped by the previous night’s wandering of your mind. Some of you are hungry; a famine of soul is crying out for the bread of heaven, yet the manna seems to have missed your acreage during its morning dispensation. Some of you are working hard, enduring long, speaking truth, and loving lavishly; still and yet, the payoff seems minimal and our Father’s notice all the more. You feel “unknown” and as an “imposter” upon the soil beneath your feet.

I hear you. I feel you. I cannot fully understand what it’s like to be you, but like you, I, too, have known moments, days, and seasons of feeling the painful ache of a sacred obedience. I cannot perfectly aid your comprehension as it pertains to the questions and “whys” behind your struggle, but I can, like the Apostle Paul, give to you a couple of words that have carried me through a great many aches in my past.

Live on.

Don’t die mid-stream. Live on. Press through. Receive everything as if it were happening to our Lord Jesus Christ and then, live on. For of this I am certain… you are known by our Heavenly Father. He sees your sacred obedience and regards you and your faith as genuine in his eyes. If you remain faithful to live on in Jesus, despite the carnage going on around you, then there is nothing in your past, present, or future that will come to you that will be able to undercut the witness of God’s kingdom via your flesh. Nothing. You can live on because Christ lived on. So did Paul; so have countless, unnamed others who have gone before you, who will follow after you, and who, in this moment, stand beside you to cheer you on toward victory.

I am one of them, friends, and I need your encouragement today just as much as you need mine. We’re on the kingdom road together; it’s no mistake that we have found one another in this season of living. God intends for us to be here… to love one another in the strength and power of his Holy Spirit and to live on together until we move home to heaven. It is but a moment from now… a single breath that will transport us into our “next” where our living on will live on in living color and before the very face of God. Believing and fully trusting in that moment, friends, brings me rich perspective for every temporal ache I experience that is connected to God’s kingdom end. Even so I pray, Lord Jesus, keep me obedient.

Keep me obedient to live on. Keep my friends as well. Amen. So be it.

peace for the journey,