Feeling God’s Presence

You have searched me, Lord, and You know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise; You perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue You, Lord, know it completely.
You hem me in behind and before, and You lay Your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from Your Spirit?  Where can I flee from Your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to You; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to You.

For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are Your thoughts, God!  How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—when I awake, I am still with You.

If only You, God, would slay the wicked!  Away from me, you who are bloodthirsty!
They speak of You with evil intent; Your adversaries misuse Your name.
Do I not hate those who hate You, Lord, and abhor those who are in rebellion against You?
I have nothing but hatred for them; I count them my enemies.
Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

Psalm 139

Greetings from my home base in Milan!

I had a very nice visit at my new part-time home in North Carolina—a great visit with family and friends, a good rest, and the opportunity to connect with new friends.  Each day I pray for divine appointments, both for myself and for the missionaries and pastors that I pray for daily.  Many of these new friends are the direct result of those divine appointments.

In one of my first encounters back home in Milan a man at a local church asked me to pray for him to “feel the presence of God.”  Of course, this made me extremely sad.  If he’s a believer, then he’s already got the presence of God—always.  It made me wonder if he’s being discipled at all because he should know that.  Unfortunately, because this was actually during the church service, I didn’t have time or the opportunity to explain all this to him or to his leaders, but instead just had a moment to pray, which I did.  I prayed that he would come to understand the omnipresence of God that has never left him and never will leave him.  Afterward, he left before I could explain anything.

This is sadly typical of the Church (the universal Body of Christ) in Italy.  They get hooked on that wonderful feeling of God’s presence, but have little understanding of God, Himself.  None of us “feels” God’s presence all the time.  That’s where faith is so important.  Faith is based on facts, not on feelings.  We must believe that He is right here with us at all times and through all circumstances.  Sometimes it feels like our prayers echo back off the ceiling unheard.  I have felt this especially in the midst of depression.  Read Psalm 139 to understand what the facts are.  Psalm 139 is an assurance not just of God’s presence, but of His intimate knowledge of each of us—especially believers.  He hears our prayers even before the words are formed on our lips.  More than that, Romans 8:26-27 tells us that the Holy Spirit searches our heart and intercedes (prays) for us according to God’s will.

If you are suffering from depression or otherwise not feeling God’s presence, read Psalm 139—in fact, read it aloud daily—and take comfort from it.  “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31).  If God is on your side, that’s all you need to live a victorious life!

My Troublesome Self

Friends, when life gets really difficult, don’t jump to the conclusion that God isn’t on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refining process, with glory just around the corner.  1 Peter 4:12-13

Greetings from Asheville, North Carolina!

Asheville is up in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and Bellavista, Mom’s retirement residence, is built into the side of a hill.  Because of its placement in the hillside, parking is frequently an issue, especially during holidays when family members come to visit.

When I’m in the US, I live here at Bellavista with Mom, which is a very good arrangement for both of us.  There are a lot of nice people at Bellavista.  In fact, the majority of the people here are very nice, indeed, and Mom and I are friends with almost all of them.  But there are also a few cranks.

One in particular is always crabbing at me for this or that.  Yesterday he accosted me in the dining room and told me: “You parked in my parking place!  You’re young and healthy, and you should park at the top of the hill and leave these parking places for the people who don’t get around so well.”

The management has said again and again that there are no assigned parking spaces here, and of course, I hadn’t parked in a handicapped space.  I often drive Mom’s car, but I never park in a handicapped space if she is not in the car with me.  Plus this man walks without assistance, not even a cane, so mobility is not the real issue for him.  But rather than point that out to him, I just said, “Sorry, I didn’t know that it was your space.”

This man’s crankiness is famous throughout Bellavista.  Mom and another friend sat at a table by the fireplace in the dining room once, and he told her: “We always sit here.”  Knowing that there are no assigned tables, Mom smiled and said, “Well, have a seat!”  That, of course, made him furious and he went to sit at another table

When I told her about the parking thing, Mom went and asked the director for clarification.  The director confirmed that there are no assigned parking spaces, but that priority goes to residents—of which I am one.  Mom turned to me and said: “We’re not moving the car!”  So the car stayed where it was, close to the front door, overnight.

When I woke up this morning, my spirit spoke to me about what Jesus would do in this situation.  I knew:  Jesus would have parked at the top of the hill to begin with, being always considerate of others.  But I don’t want it to look like I’m catering to his bossy demands.  I knew that I should immediately move the car, but I didn’t want him to get that parking spot, hoping that someone else would get it, instead.

As I struggled with myself, I realized that the problem isn’t the cranky old man.  The problem is me.  Two years ago when I was back in Milan after a three year absence, I quickly became reacquainted with how rude people in the big city can be.  In particular, it seemed like more and more people were pushing to get onto buses and subway cars, without first letting passengers get off.  So I started gently pushing people out of my way when they tried to get on while I was getting off, grumbling to myself all the while.  Then the Holy Spirit told me: “It’s not your job to teach people manners.  You need to be an Ambassador of Christ, even in these situations.”

Remembering that lesson from Milan, I realized that it’s also not my job to teach manners to this man, but to be an Ambassador of Christ.  And what that means is to die to self.  The trouble with self is that I’ve lived with myself for such a long time.  I like myself.  I like getting my own way.  But getting my own way is often in direct conflict with obedience.

Obedience requires that I die to myself, pick up my cross daily and follow Jesus Christ.  I’ve been a Christian for 45 years, and I still struggle with selfish desires.  After all these years, I know that self dies hard.  Self dies one of those opera deaths—you know, the kind that keeps singing for another ten minutes, flopping and flailing about on the stage.  And just when you think it’s really dead, it comes back for an encore and another ten minute song.