Mother’s love traverses Time and place and even Heaven’s boundary. Childhood sacred moments flicker, Silver on memory’s screen: Singing away tears— Oh how you loved your teddy bear; Reading me The Princess Bride to Chase away weeks of illness; Pictures from before I remember, Sleeping in your arms’ protection.
My own grown children still need Their mom and her Fierce, ferocious love that Knows no boundaries, Will never end. Sometimes she wishes she Could turn it off, But not really, she can’t. She carried them in a way No one else ever can. Not even me, and I Carried them a lot, these Monkeys on my back.
This is transcendent, these Angels rising from the ashes Of all that is broken and cruel, Sent to nurture us, To carry us through life On their shoulders. To love us through our unloveliness to Show the world the gem she sees.
Sunlight filters through a Break in the curtains, Carries away the baggage. I am left to remember, To cherish This sacred space, These mother’s arms, Where God himself once rested.
David K. Carpenter May 9, 2021 Happy Mother’s Day to Kristin, one of my favorite moms; In loving memory of my other two favorite moms: Nancy Carpenter and Patricia Little
This week I came across an article ranting about bad things Christians do or say and hurling damning generalizations at the lot of us. If I’m being transparent here (which, painfully, I feel called to be), I have to admit that I had a visceral, negative reaction to this when I scanned through it. I mean, I’m so tired of people focusing on the negatives of Christians and Christianity while ignoring the innumerable things done, great and small, in the name of Jesus for the benefit of the world in general and our cities and neighborhoods specifically. Aren’t you?
But…before I get you too fired up, let me fill you in briefly on where this journey has led me. Spoiler alert: it didn’t end with me posting an angry response, feeling vindicated by my witty yet scathing words.
So here’s the thing. After I went back through the list of 8 awful things Christians do or say, as I was formulating what I would say back, I heard this annoying voice in my head ask a couple questions: Well, is it true that Christians have done or said those things? Have you ever done or said things like this?
Ugh.
I really hate to call the voice of God annoying, but I think that’s what it was–God’s voice. I think God can take me referring to his voice as annoying since it often takes me being annoyed before I will learn and grow, and that’s what he wants from me.
Being honest (which, let’s face it, you might as well be when you’re talking to God!), I can’t really answer “no” to either of his questions. So now what?
I’d like to say I exercised self-control and didn’t write a witty yet scathing response. Well, I didn’t write any such response, but it would be disingenuous for me to refer to my restraint as “self-control”.
Hence the term: “Christ-control”, since he is really the one who saved me from myself.
This doesn’t mean that I have to be OK with the things said in the article I saw. It only means that I have to respond to hate and vitriol the way Jesus did–with love and prayers for the offender. I only have to live and interact with people in such a way that reflects his love for them, thereby glorifying his name.
Ugh. “Only“?
Doesn’t God know how hard it is to love people who don’t love me? But what about…?
Hmm. Well, yes, I guess he does. There are no “But what about”s in his Kingdom.
He never said it would be easy–he only promised he would there with us through it all. And he showed us the way.
Sunrise over Pikes Peak, Colorado Springs, CO – (c) Copyright 2021, by David K. Carpenter Photography
Right at the beginning of the Bible, when God is running around making the earth and stuff, one of the first things He does is place the sun and moon in the sky, dividing the way we will experience life into the 24-hour chunks we call days.
Autumn in Woodland Park, CO – (c) Copyright 2021, by David K. Carpenter Photography
Why do you suppose He did that? Was it some sort of arbitrary decision? (“Hmm, how long should we make a day? I know, let’s all 3 of us put our favorite number in a hat, and whichever number we pick…”)
Well, I don’t think it was random or arbitrary. God had a plan to create us, and He knew we would only be able to carry one day’s worth of burdens before we would need to rest and rejuvenate. He also intended that this rejuvenation would require us to turn to Him each and every day. This was His plan–that we would need Him for strength and nourishment, and He would freely give it, whenever we ask.
But only for one day.
There is abundant evidence of this throughout the Bible. He gave the Israelites manna to eat when they were wandering in the desert, but they could only gather enough for one day. When Jesus gave us an example of how to pray, he modeled the idea that we need to ask for sustenance every day:
“Today,” and “Daily bread”. Also, there are plenty of reminders that God helps us carry our burdens day after day–not in any bigger chunks than that. He gives us our strength in daily doses.
Sometimes life is a struggle, like a difficult workout. One good analogy is a local hike known as the Manitou Incline. It’s “only” about 1 mile, but it seems at times to be nearly vertical. There are railroad ties arranged as steps–about 2744 of them–enabling you to ascend about 2000 vertical feet in that “only a mile”. And keep in mind, you start at an elevation of 6500 feet (about 1300 feet higher than Denver) and end at an elevation of about 8590 feet. It takes “normal” people an hour or two to make it to the top, although the record for the fastest time up was set by Joseph Gray in 2015–he made it in 17 minutes and 45 seconds (I know, it makes you want to punch him…if only you could catch him!)
I have done this several times. No matter how fit I am, by the time I’m about 3/4 of the way to the top, it starts to feel like I’m not going to make it. The sun’s baking down on me, feeling light-headed, maybe a little dizzy, questioning my sanity… So then I start to make little deals with myself: I don’t have to make it to the top, I just have to go up one more step. When I do that, I find I have a little more left in me, so I repeat the deal.
Just one more step.
And then another and another. Next thing I know, I’m at the top.
That’s how God nourishes and strengthens us–He gives us just enough to get through this day, and no more.
When tomorrow becomes today, He’ll give us just enough strength to get through that one more day. And then one more after that.
But then again, we don’t need to worry about that day after that, at least not until it becomes today.
This is how we live in the moment, built on a foundation of trusting that God is enough, and He will provide. It’s how we live life well, walking with God, allowing Him to lead us through our darkest days and basking in His illumination of the brightest ones.
Golden Afternoon in Ouray, CO – (c) Copyright 2021, by David K. Carpenter Photography
At church today (and at the other services over the weekend), we welcomed 100 more new followers of Christ into God’s family through water baptisms. For some reason (probably something to do with God), a couple years ago, whenever people were being baptized, I would say this simple prayer for each person:
Father, let him/her be a light in the darkness.
Or even, more simply:
Another light in the darkness.
So there I was today during our baptisms, whispering that prayer for each person as they rose up out of the water, and tears started rolling down my cheeks. I don’t know where they came from. I mean, I didn’t know any of these new brothers and sisters in Christ. Why would tears flow today?
100 more lights in the darkness.
Candles in Notre Dame I – (c) Copyright 2021 by David K. Carpenter Photography, All Rights Reserved
Any one or all of the Holy Trinity could easily create enough light to illuminate the earth brighter than all the sports stadiums in the world combined. But they don’t. Instead they choose individuals to be their light in the darkness. You, me, your neighbor, that odd person at work, the lady ringing up your groceries.
We are, each one of us who call Jesus Lord and Savior, holding a dim, flickering candle.
We may not provide much light on our own–maybe just enough to illuminate the path for your child or parent or friend or sibling who is struggling.
But what about when our lights join together? Last weekend, for the Good Friday service, they gave each of us a candle and dimmed the lights. Even though we have a huge sanctuary, it set the place aglow when a thousand points of light combined together to overcome the darkness.
And when you put the 2.5 billion of us believers on the planet today together, we can and should shine light into the darkest corners of the world. That’s just the way God works. Looking around in the world today, it might be easy to think the evil one is winning–he seems to have control of so many famous individuals, so many countries and leaders, people lurking in the shadows thinking the light can’t reach them.
But this is how Love and Light will win: by each of us being enough Light in the darkness that there is no escaping it.
Candles in Notre Dame II – (c) Copyright 2021 by David K. Carpenter Photography, All Rights Reserved
OK, one last cool thing to mention, another little God coincidence that may not be a coincidence at all. The song the praise band was playing during the baptisms was “Way Maker.” And here are the lyrics for the chorus, which we reached just as the first new believer arose from the waters of baptism:
“Way maker, miracle worker, promise keeper, light in the darkness, my God, that is who you are.
From “Way Maker” (emphasis added), written by female Nigerian songwriter, Osinachi Okoro, stage name Sinach
We got to “light in the darkness” just as I was saying that prayer for the first new family member. I think that’s when the tears came, and I think I know who they came from.
After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.
There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.
The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.”
So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. “Greetings, ”he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”
Matthew 28:1-8 (NIV, emphasis added)
Jesus Christ has risen from the grave! We have not hoped in vain! A bright light beckons in the darkness, new life is there for the asking. Praise God, who makes all things new!
As recounted by the Apostle John, the last thing Jesus says on the cross before he dies is the Greek word tetelestai, which is commonly translated as, “It is finished” (John 19:30). What did he mean by this? That this terrible ordeal was finally over?
I don’t think so. His whole life had been pointing to the cross. This was not something to be over with in one horrible day.
(C) Copyright 2021 by David K. Carpenter Photography, All Rights Reserved
Jesus had previously clarified that nobody takes his life from him , but that he willingly lays it down (John 10:18). Similarly, here I doubt he would end his earthly life by saying something like, “OK, now that’s over.” Rather, I think he would mean something more like, “I did what I came here to do.”
And what is that, exactly? What did he come here to do?
Start a religion? Nope.
Give us a reason to feel special and better than those people? Nope.
Give us a rule book? Take away all our fun? Make us get a haircut or squirm when someone drinks or dances or plays cards? Not even close.
The Beautiful Exchange
Jesus came to offer us a great deal.
Early in this season of Lent, it occurred to me (and so I posted about it) that as we grow in deeper relationship with him, we shouldn’t focus on the paltry things we give up by choosing to follow him. Instead, we should focus on what Jesus freely gives us in return.
Nowhere is this beautiful exchange more starkly contrasting than in the sacrifice Jesus makes for us on Good Friday.
Evil can flow all too easily through the dark rivers of our hearts. But just like the priests with Joshua stepping into the Jordan river (Joshua chapter 3), Jesus puts one foot into those rivers of darkness and stops them from flowing.
Jesus takes the punishment we deserve for a lifetime of evil thoughts and actions. In return, he gives us life eternal in paradise.
Jesus takes the curses we’ve hurled at him and his sons and daughters, and gives us blessings in return.
Jesus takes our fear, uncertainty, and doubt. In exchange he gives us hope and peace and joy that should baffle those around us. He takes our burdens and gives us rest.
Jesus takes our grumbles and replaces them with gratitude.
(C) Copyright 2021 by David K. Carpenter Photography, All Rights Reserved
Consider the Cost
I can’t imagine why I ever thought it would cost me too much to follow Jesus. Look at how much it cost him to have me as a follower. Sitting at the foot of the cross, I can’t escape the fact that it cost him everything to pay my debt. But thanks to him, it is paid in full, now and forever.
Jesus is hanging out with his friends in Caesarea Philippi when he asks them, apropos of nothing, “Who do the people say the Son of Man is?” (Matthew 16:13, NIV)
They provide a variety of answers, so he turns the question directly to them.
“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”
Jesus, in Matthew 16:15, NIV
Now picture him leveling his gaze on you and asking you the same question.
“What about you, Dave? Who do you say I am?”
He continues, a bit more pointedly. “Who does your life say I am?”
Hmm. I have to think about that one, every dumb thing I did or said, just in the last week, flashing through my mind….
But just when the silence becomes awkward, he smiles, a twinkle in his eye. “Here’s who I say you are: my beloved, my friend. Someone I choose to give my life for.”
Oh my. What can you say to that? If you think deeply about it, does it change your answer to his questions?
“What about you, <your name here>? Who do you say I am?”
Palm Sunday
And so the journey
To the cross begins with
A choice:
You climb not on a
War horse, but an
Animal of peace. But really?
A donkey? This isn’t
What I expected. A god made in my image
Would win the war and save us all.
Ugh. Turn over this table
In my heart—disappointments, not
Meeting my expectations of You.
Disrupt wherever I hold fast to
Cheap imitation truths.
Take out the garbage—anything
Not from You.
Kill it on a cross, like I
Did to You, and will do again this Friday.
Break me, make me
To be what You expect from me.
Hosanna! God save me from
Myself,
You know I can’t do it on my own,
Even though I never stop trying.
David K. Carpenter
March 28, 2021
(c)Copyright 2021 David K. Carpenter, All Rights Reserved
(c) Copyright 2021 David K. Carpenter Photography, All Rights Reserved
As we head into Holy Week, we start off with the massive celebration commonly referred to as Palm Sunday. Getting caught up in the festivities, we might be tempted to think that Jesus could have enjoyed this moment of notoriety. After all, who wouldn’t like to be greeted upon their arrival into a new city with shouts of “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”?
However, Jesus knew exactly what was waiting for him on the other side of this triumphal entry…
Many of these same people would be standing by the side of the same road in 5 short days watching him drag his cross out of Jerusalem toward Skull Hill.
One of his disciples would sell him out for 30 pieces of silver. His closest friend would act like he didn’t know him.
Probably worst of all, he knew God himself would turn his back on him–the only thing he complains about throughout the entire ordeal we refer to as Good Friday.
He knew all this was going to happen before he even headed for Jerusalem one last time.
So why did he do it?
Because if he didn’t, he knew you and I would be eternally separated from God because of all those times we’ve screwed up. Someone had to pay the price for the sins of the world, and he knew it could only be him.
So he went.
I can’t think of a better way for someone to show me how much he loves me–for Jesus to lay down his life willingly for me so I can live; for God to allow the sacrifice of his only son so I can run into his arms instead. This is grace; it is Love in action.
I don’t mean to dampen the celebration that is Palm Sunday. I only suggest that we all take a moment amidst waving palm branches to ponder that Jesus’ sacrifice for you and for me began the moment he climbed onto the donkey’s back to begin his long ride into Jerusalem and toward the cross.
(c) 2021 David K. Carpenter Photography, All Rights Reserved
Master's Canvas - Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter 