Category: Jesus

Advent, Christmas, Faith, Holiness, Jesus, Prayer, Scripture

The Author Takes the Lead – Advent Reflection, December 15th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week 2, Friday – December 15th

I, the Lord, your God, teach you what is for your good and lead you on the way you should go.

Isaiah 48:17

A fun author experience that I’ve occasionally had is when someone tells me what should have happened in my story, or what my characters should have done. I’m not talking about hearing a reader’s opinion on a story, which is a genuine thrill every time, or about receiving constructive feedback from a fellow writer or editor. I’m talking about when someone essentially declares that they know better how to tell the story. The story that only exists because I imagined it. The story that is filled with characters who are my own creations.

Fun might not be the right word for this experience, but there is something laughable about it.

I wonder if God laughs sometimes when I assume I know better how to carry out His story.

We’re not fictional characters, but we are created by an author. We are created by the author; the author of the universe and of each individual life that has ever existed.

My experiences of God aside, simple logic suggests that the creator of my life knows better than anyone how that life ought to play out. He knows how I will get through the crisis points and how I’ll be blessed through the twists and turns. He knows best because He knows me, His creation, best.

If I follow His pen rather than take the pen in my own hand, God will write me a greater story than anything I could aspire to create. He is my true author, the one who determines what is for my good and what is the way I should go.

All the messages, marketing, opinions and ideologies, as well as peers, superiors, friends, and family, and even my own thoughts… there are so many voices willing to tell me how it all should go. Some with good intentions and some with evil in their minds, these voices speak. They shout. They whisper. They overlap and contradict, bringing confusion in their wake. There is only one effective test to determine which voices should have any influence: how do they hold up alongside the voice of my Lord, the author of my life?

It takes practice to listen to Him first and above the others. I’m rebuilding the habit myself. The more time spent tuning in to Him though, the more recognizable His voice becomes. Increasingly often, I find I can pick up on that voice no matter the volume of the rest.

Lord, I pray the remaining days of Advent will be a season of listening for Your voice. You spoke the fullness of truth in the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Speak truth into my story. I submit to You as the author of the greatest story of all, the one that brought salvation.

Advent, Christmas, Jesus, Prayer, Scripture

Behold He Comes, the Shepherd King – Advent Reflection, December 10th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week 2, Sunday – December 10th

Here comes with power the Lord God, who rules by his strong arm; here is his reward with him, his recompense before him. Like a shepherd he feeds his flock; in his arms he gathers his lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and leading the ewes with care.

Isaiah 40:10-11

More than once in the Bible, it’s pointed out that human understanding is not the same as God’s understanding. His ways differ from our ways, and His wisdom far surpasses ours. One of the best representations of this truth, to my mind, is when I consider the contrasts within God’s nature.

God is the all powerful ruler of the universe. God is a gentle shepherd feeding His sheep.

God is the final judge of all. God is mercy.

God demands justice. God forgives.

And on and on.

Already I’ve defaulted to a limited understanding, for I call these contrasts… contradictions… incongruencies, and those are not words to describe the nature of God.

In God, I find perfect love. In perfect love, I find the harmonious coexistence of authority and judgement with patience and mercy. He is my king. He is my shepherd. When I try to confine God within the walls of my own flawed wisdom, these combinations are mind boggling. Impossible, even.

Thankfully, God cannot be confined. The limitations humanity struggles under – how to seek justice and how to be merciful, for instance – are not limitations to Him. It’s why I can trust Him with the justice I cannot achieve by my own efforts. It is how I can approach God with deep repentance and regret of my sins, and unshakeable confidence that He will welcome me into His loving arms.

Lord, help me to see myself and others in light of who You are, instead of the other way around. I entrust myself to Your judgement and Your mercy. I revere You and I joyfully run to You. Overshadow my wisdom with Yours, my king and my savior.

Advent, Catholicism, Christmas, Faith, Hope, Jesus, Love, Prayer, Scripture

Like Sheep, or Cows, or Humans – Advent Reflection, December 9th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week One, Saturday – December 9th

At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.

Matthew 9:36, NAB

Cows used to wander into our yard from the neighboring farm when I was growing up in Michigan. The cows escaped the grazing field’s fences a few times a year and clomped up the road to my parents’ property. Vehicles needed to avoid them, their hooves tore up our grass, and one even kicked a large, lovely dent in our car door. Oh, and they pooped. A lot.

It was messy and aggravating. Yet, I always felt a little sorry for those wandering cows. When the farmer showed up to herd them back home, usually with my dad’s assistance, I imagined the cows felt the cow version of relief, and that the familiar ground and boundaries of the farm brought a sense of safety. “This is where I belong. It is good to be here with you,” they’d say in the language of Moos as they gazed at the farmer with their big, dark eyes.

Maybe if Jesus hailed from the Midwest, the crowds of people would have reminded Him of cows without a farmer. No matter the livestock comparison though, Jesus looks on us the same way. He sees us break through boundaries that only exist for our wellbeing. He understands our curiosity and tendency to wander, and He is aware of the resulting wounds. Like a caring shepherd or farmer, He goes out to find us. He meets us not with anger and condemnation, but with compassion and wisdom.

I have a picture on my wall that says, “Dear one, you are not being condemned. You are being rescued.” I put it up while I was deep in the turmoil of changing my life. The changes couldn’t come without acknowledgement of the ways I’d chosen to walk away from God and the life I was meant to lead. With that acknowledgement came the great gift of forgiveness, yet I struggled every day with harsh judgment of myself. God had cast aside my sin as soon as I asked, but I still clung to it and let it slow down every step I was making toward Him.

Like Jesus looking at the crowd in the Gospel story, He looked on me with pity. Through times in prayer and reading God’s word, and through voices sent into my life to speak truth and share love, Jesus met me where I stood in the crowd. He and the ones He sent reached out to untangle my feet from the briars of sin and its aftermath. He saw me as worthy of rescuing, and for that I thank Him daily.

We’re all in the crowd. We’re all in need of our divine shepherd. In preparing for Christmas, let us prepare for the great celebration of our shepherd’s arrival. He comes to rescue. He comes to heal. He comes to love.

Advent, Catholicism, Christmas, Faith, Jesus, Love, Saints, Scripture

The Wonder of God’s Choice – Advent Reflection, December 8th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week One, Friday – December 8th

Brothers and sisters: Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavens, as he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him.

Ephesians 1:3-4, NAB

Say it about yourself.

This was advice I received once when I was struggling to see the promises of God as applicable to me. I felt like I was watching the goodness from a distance. I’m susceptible to reading and speaking of the marvelous love and works of God only in large scale, all-humanity terms. Doing so protects me from the vulnerability of the personal nature of divine love. In a contemplative vision of Jesus, St. Teresa of Avila once heard Him say that He would create the universe again just to hear her say that she loves Him. A love that deep is entirely personal and invites the vulnerable surrender of my heart to His. Since vulnerability scares the daylights out of me, I’m learning to look that fear in the face and say the truth about myself.

Blessed be the God and Father of my Lord Jesus Christ.

He has blessed me in Christ with every spiritual blessing.

He chose me in Him, before the foundation of the world.

He chose me. He chose me. I get stuck on that one (in a good way) and find it only makes sense from God’s perspective, not mine.

I wonder if Mary got stuck on it too. It’s easy enough to imagine. After the angel Gabriel’s declaration that she had found favor with God, she may have marveled, “He chose me.” With her massive act of faith in saying yes to God’s plans , she perhaps let it sink in – the honor of it all – with the thought, “He chose me.” And “He chose me” might have been the reassurance she rested upon while facing the questions of how and why and what was to come.

God didn’t choose me to be the mother of my Lord, but He did choose me to be who I am. He prepared the avenue for my existence from farther back than centuries of generations. He ordained the ways my life could build the Kingdom of God, if I say yes to His plans. The people I have the opportunity to love, God saw fit to make me the one to give that love. He placed in me the voice I carry and its potential to deliver truth, beauty, and goodness. He designed by His hand the spiritual gifts I could possess.

He chose Mary.

He chose Joseph.

He chose Peter.

He chose John.

He chose Paul.

He chose me.

He chose you.

From before the foundation of the world.

Say it about yourself: He chose me. I choose Him.

Advent, Catholicism, Faith, Jesus, Love, Prayer, Scripture

Build It on the Rock – Advent Reflection, December 7th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week One, Thursday – December 7th

Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.”

Matthew 7:24, NAB

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I did tell you!”

If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been in that argument, I’d pay all my bills in nickels. Of course, I’ve occupied both sides of it, and since it only ever happens between me and another imperfect person, I’ve been both in the right and in the wrong.

There is only one person with whom I could never possibly win this argument. I can picture it now… me standing beside Jesus on the edge of heaven while He speaks of my life in full truthfulness. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I’d exclaim. Jesus would give me that look that says, “Really?” and I’d know better than to continue.

How awful it feels when I’m on the “why didn’t you?” side of the debate. There is a feeling of helplessness when I realize I didn’t know what I needed to know. It’s compounded by the aspect of betrayal when I also discover that someone did know and didn’t tell me. No matter how minor or major the missing information, it stings each time.

God loves us too much to not tell us. He loves us too perfectly to leave us vulnerable to that unsettling experience. He is never negligent. He is not forgetful or subject to error. He gives us the truth in love and will not let us be caught unaware.

In speaking of the one who “listens to these words and acts on them,” the Lord sets the expectation. I read that passage and hear Jesus whispering in my heart.

Yes, the truth of the gospel should change things. You aren’t imagining it. My love really is what makes all the difference. And if it doesn’t make a difference, your house is on the sand.

The truth should prompt action. I don’t get to hear of God’s saving love for me and remain unchanged. At least, not if I want to meet the open gaze of my savior and say to him, “Lord, Lord,” as He leads me into the splendor of heaven.

There will be storms, with buffeting winds and waves, on the way there. Yet faith tells me I do not need to be afraid of any change God may lead me into. In listening to Him, I am equipped to build a storm-surviving house on the rock. His words are meant for me. The arrival of Jesus is not only the turning point for the individuals who encounter Him on the gospel pages, it is my turning point. It must be.

Lord, be my turning point. Be the cause of every change You desire to effect in me. May I listen and act, and stand upon You, my rock and my salvation.

Advent, Catholicism, Christmas, Faith, Jesus, Prayer, Scripture

This is the Lord for Whom We Looked – Advent Reflection, December 6th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week One, Wednesday – December 6th

On that day it will be said: “Behold our God, to whom we looked to save us! This is the Lord for whom we looked; let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us!”

Isaiah 25:9, NAB

As an avid fiction reader, I love a good dose of foreshadowing. That delicious moment comes, late in the story, when I see the pieces begin to fit together. I smile over how the author hinted along the way at what is coming to fruition now. It is a moment of true discovery, of “A-ha! That’s why the author did that earlier!”

Undoubtedly, this is the same reason one of my favorite things about the scriptures is the foreshadowing of the Old Testament being fulfilled by events in the New Testament. There are countless a-ha moments to enjoy.

In Isaiah 25:6-10, we hear of a day to come on the mountain of the Lord when God will satisfy His people with a great feast. Then, lo and behold, where do we find ourselves in the Gospel story in Matthew 15? Walking with Jesus up the mountain beside the Sea of Galilee.

He is followed by a great crowd of people. People wanting to hear his words and people in need of His healing. Jesus spends the day ministering to them, curing the ill and the broken. Already, there on the mountain with Jesus and His miracles, I can imagine cries of joy that echo Isaiah’s prophecy: “Behold our God! This is the Lord for whom we looked!”

Jesus wants His followers to be left with no doubt, so the story doesn’t end here. He knows the cracks the devil can make in the people’s faith. He knows the erosion that sin will inflict on their certainty. He also knows the prophecies of old.

Jesus sees their physical hunger, so He prepares a feast on that mountain. From a meager seven loaves of bread and a few fish, Jesus provides so much that thousands of people “all ate and were satisfied” (Matthew 15:37). God being a God of abundance, Jesus doesn’t even limit the feast to what would satisfy. He gave more, “seven baskets full,” and I expect many in the crowd understood then that the provision and satisfaction the Lord gives would not run out.

In a place much deeper than my reading preferences, I am roused to excitement by Jesus’s fulfillment of the Old Testament foreshadowing. What a feast He continues to provide for me and every person who draws near to Him! In God’s word preserved and proclaimed for all ages; in His church being the hands and feet of the savior until He returns; in His body and blood, broken and poured out and given “to the disciples, who in turn [give] them to the crowds” (Matthew 15:36); His provisions never run out along my way to the mountain of the Lord.

With every Advent season, I prepare to celebrate the day that Jesus arrived and began an entirely new era of fulfillment of God’s plans. When I open my Bible, gaze upon the cross, or kneel before the tabernacle and altar, I pray that my heart responds, “This is the Lord for whom we looked; let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us!”

Advent, Catholicism, Christmas, Faith, Hope, Jesus, Prayer, Scripture

A Home on the Holy Mountain – Advent Reflection, December 5th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week One, Tuesday – December 5th

The baby shall play by the cobra’s den, and the child shall lay his hand on the adder’s lair. There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the Lord, as water covers the sea.

Isaiah 11:8-9, NAB

I have a plethora of worries. It’s common for me to dub them concerns or apprehensions. I tell myself I’m only being aware and realistic. Most of the time though, I’m just plain old worrying. Much of it is tied to my children’s wellbeing, so you can be darn sure that if I saw my son or daughter traipsing anywhere near a cobra’s den, I’d be filled up with worry in a heartbeat. With that worry would come along anxiousness and a decent helping of stress.

As I write that, I realize how terribly often those words describe my state of mind. Worried, anxious, stressed, and over such a variety of matters. Maybe that is why Isaiah’s description of the peace in God’s kingdom has such a soothing appeal.

“There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain.”

Yes, please! Let me build my home there!

What is incredible about our loving God is He builds us a home there. He promises us a place in this kingdom of peace, justice, and full knowledge of the Lord. Does He stop there? No. He then comes and lives among us. He shows us by His own example how to love and pursue the kingdom of God.

Is that all? It is already so much. No, that is not all. He spells it out as simply as we need: “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). “And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also” (John 14:3). Then He bridges the gap between us and the kingdom – the gap of sin and death – and does so out of love alone.

When I consider how heavily my anxieties and fears sit upon my heart and exhaust my spirit, the freedom of living on His holy mountain seems like a dream. It is not a dream though. The Lord has made it a reality for me. For you. For each person I love. He wants me there with Him even more than I want to be there.

Many cultural messages attempt to claim that I can possess that desired home of perfect peace within this fallen world. Lord, guard my heart and mind against this fallacy. You are the way there. You are the truth of what peace awaits me in the eternal home you prepare. You are the life I will choose here until I reach the fullness of your kingdom.

Open the eyes of my soul to see the glimpses of that kingdom here and now, but keep my feet pointed toward your holy mountain.