The Whole Gospel and Nothing But The Gospel

Recently I have saturated my mind with some very old sermons written by some awesome gentlemen. They are probably all part of that "great cloud of witnesses" now. VERY old sermons. They proclaim the gospel in ways that I never hear today. "Sin" is a well worn word on their lips. The cross is the central theme of every proclamation. And it's not a "mamby pamby" Christianity. It's an overcoming, conquering faith that inspires belief and hope.

It's not a partial gospel either. It is as if in a 20 minute sermon, the whole gospel and nothing but the gospel rings forth, like a bell sounding a warning, yet bells of celebration. I read a particular sermon from John 3, Nicodemus' encounter with Jesus. I got all "christmasy". No, really! I did.

Seems as a christian, when someone mentions John 3:16, there's an inner moan; a heart betrayal that says it's so simple, it's trite. But here is the thing: it's in the context of verse 10. "Jesus answered and said to him, 'Are you the teacher of Israel and do not understand these things?'" We're so smart, we're stupid. Our so-called maturity blinds us to the fullness of the gospel.

I read through the chapter and thought about the sermon. There's an acknowledgement of God being greater than us.
There's an ultimatum: No kingdom unless you are born again.
And not just any kind of birth, but birth in the Spirit.
Listen to this cool statement (this is why I got all christmasy). "No one has ascended into heaven, but He who descended from heaven: the Son of Man." And so the King of all Kings condescends to become a baby. As sure as His birth, was His death. "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up." Why? LOVE. For God so loved... And as sure as His birth and His death, was His ascension. A resurrection of power that shook hell and opened heaven for those who believe. And a glorious ascension back to the right hand of the Father.

So for those who believe, the Holy Spirit condescends to live in us, the residence of the gospel of His grace. I find irony in Nicodemus' name. As the wise men who came to Jesus at his birth with gifts of frankincense and myrrh, we see the wise man Nicodemus bringing myrrh in preparation for Jesus' burial. Kind of hint that Nicodemus believed. Truly jolly ole Saint Nic. :)


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Christmas Poem

With childlike faith I scribbled my note

and sealed it with a kiss.

All red and green with

wishes and dreams,

I mailed to Santa my list.

Each Christmas came and with it gifts,

some sought and some not.

Tin doll house,

a “Timey Tell” doll,

some loved;  some that time forgot.

With each breath held and gift opened

this secret hope did yearn:

that I had been

good enough to get

the gifts I’d tried to earn.

Not just Santa I wanted to please,

but  the dad behind the beard.

To gain a nod,

a smile at best,

my sweetest prize from year to year.

With childlike faith I received a note,

a book signed in love.

All red and black,

truth front to back,

a promise from Father above.

And on that day He came with gifts

that by His Son’s blood He’d bought.

Garments of salvation,

faith, fruit, and life,

love and plans beyond my thought.

These gifts He freely gave to me,

and yet I still did yearn

to be the child

good enough to keep

these gifts I never could earn.

I sweated and worked hard to please

the Presence behind the present.

To gain a nod,

a smile at best,

through works of flesh and conscience.

By works and strife – myself betrayed,

for I could not get it right.

In frustrated angst,

in pride I tried

to tame myself by self’s might.

And then like Christmas morn’ again,

with childlike faith could see

I held a beautiful, long unopened  gift

now revealed in me:  freedom’s  key.

For in the Gift of God’s sweet Son

comes the fullness of His grace

to fill me up,

to set me free

to walk in God’s rest of faith.

Joy spilling forth from deep within,

this Gift in me aptly fit

to be my strength,

my crown, my all,

all year long my Christmas Spirit.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Come Thou Fount

     If you haven't read "The Appointment" from last week, this might be a bit weird. So, if you have a few minutes, I'd suggest taking a look at last week's blog. Thanks!

     Why this song? Sometimes when God puts something in me, it doesn't come out the same way it got in. [grin] This may be one of those times, so hang with me.

     Hang around me for any length of time and the scripture that will most pour out of my mouth is 2 Peter 1:3. It says that God's "divine power has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness through the true knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and excellence." In Christ, I am blessed with every spiritual blessing. He has indeed, by the indwelling Holy Spirit, given me all that I need to live a godly life, an abundant life. He is the fountain of living water that endues us with every blessing... "Come Thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing Thy grace."

     As this song washed over me in the car that day, I seemed to understand afresh that my appropriation of His blessings and of the power to do His will... comes by grace through faith. It's a never-ending, ever-flowing stream of grace and mercy. The roar of the fountain calls us to unabashed adoration and praise. "Streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise. Teach me some melodious sonnet sung by flaming tongues above."

     And this stream of grace and mercy comes from the mountain of God, "praise the mount - I'm fixed upon it - mount of Thy redeeming love." Straight from the cross, His love and grace flow down to us. I was thinking about when Jon and I are in a public place. When I don't know anyone (at least not well), I fix my eyes on Jon and I am comforted by his love for me. And my adoration for him seems to swell. He becomes a source for my need. So it is with the love of God. When I've fixed my eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of my faith, I am assured of my belovedness and comforted in the heat of life by His love and grace.
"Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by Thy help I'm come." Thus far the Lord has helped me. If you read the "crutches" blog, I need not expound. Each Ebenezer is a reminder to me that I am not alone; that this particular journey is where I'm being led, not aimless wanderings on trails that lead to nowhere. Being a former "people pleaser", and as one who does amazing mental gymnastics to be able to say "former", I've been known to worry more about what other people think about where God is leading me rather than just walking the walk with God for the pleasure of His company. Silly, I know. Those outside the window of my life right now might think I took a path to a dead end. I could see how they might think that. But if there were a roadsign at this place I stand, I believe it would read "yield". And I'm yielding (albeit with some difficulty) because thus far, the Lord has helped me. And thus far He has led me. Truly it is for the pleasure of His company that I follow and it is His good pleasure to lead. "And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home."

     "Jesus sought me when a stranger, wand'ring from the fold of God. He, to rescue me from danger, interposed His precious blood." I love that word: interposed. I double checked the meaning (okay - so I'm a geek). It means "to bring to bear between two parties; to put between or in the way of." Christ, my redeemer, stands between God and me. His precious blood interposed, brought to bear, on my sin to reconcile me with my God.

     And what a debt I owe to Jesus, who is grace and truth! "O to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be!" The word that God put in my spirit in that spiritual brat moment came straight from this line of song. "What does it mean to be constrained as a debtor to His grace daily?" In my heart rang this verse: "You have been severed from Christ, you who are seeking to be justified by law; you have fallen from grace." (Galatians 5:4) How easily deceived I can be - thinking that I could be saved by grace yet sanctified by works. It's not something I do consciously. Sort of like sweeping the floor, filling the bucket, pouring in the cleaner, and remembering you don't have a mop. I start out well, but I'm powerless in the middle of it. Without His grace, I'm power poor. In my own self-effort, I cut myself off from Christ and fall far from His grace. Picture yourself trapped on a cliff. There's a rope anchored above. You are tied into the rope. Someone is lifting you to the top of the mountain by the rope. For a moment you're stopped, suspended between the start and the finish. You take out your knife, cut the rope, drop painfully to the ledge and, scraped and bruised, begin the long climb on your own. You have fallen from grace; you haven't trusted in the salvation (which includes sanctification) that lifts you to the heights of Jesus' righteousness. We are debtors, constrained daily by the bonds of grace, compelled to trust in the righteousness of Christ and in the goodness of God to bring us safely to Himself. Every moment of self-trust is a knife that severs the bonds of His grace. "Let Thy goodness, like a fetter (a chain, shackle, rope), bind my wand'ring heart to Thee." [It certainly does wander every now and then.] What truth will keep me chained? God is good. God is good to me. God's plan is good for me.

     "Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love. Here's my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above." And my heart sings, "Amen!"

     Amazing what a spiritual brat can receive, even in the midst of a less than holy fit, if she'll just grab hold of the rope.

Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

The Appointment

      God seems to make appointments for us. We show up on time, not even knowing that the moment was on the calendar. We are unaware of its significance until we are in the middle of it. I had such an appointment recently, not knowing that my moment began a year ago or so.

     On my last trip to Oklahoma, a friend of mine had given me some music CD’s she had put together. They were her favorites. To be honest, they got laid aside when I got home. I don’t know why. I just set them on the shelf and they got moved and removed. Removed from the shelf and removed from my mind. [Frankly, my mind is more easily dusted.]

     I was readying for a trip to my brother’s house in Ohio. I like to fill the console of my car with my favorite music. While hunting them down, I ran across the misplaced CD’s and mixed them in with my choices. And I hit the road.

      I’m one of Father’s little spiritual brats. I readily admit it. Not proud of it, but it is what it is. I also take very literally the word that says, “Come boldly before the throne of grace.” Boldly means “to speak your mind.” And, because I’ve never been one to be belligerent with others, I seize opportunities to be a brat before the Lord. I’m a tattler… and a whiner. Somehow alone time in the car liberates me to this sort of tomfoolery. I know that I am supposed to have a holy fear toward God, but in my intimate times of desperation, this concept escapes me.

     Of late, I’ve been in sort of a “forced” solitude. Whether the season of my life, or God’s deliberate removal of those things that distract me, solitude has felt like a prison. I was sharing with God that I feel cut off; removed from the rest of the body of Christ. And God has also been disturbingly silent. It’s not been unusual for God to drop an occasional word down into my spirit. That seems to have stopped. I’ve had ears to hear, but He hasn’t seemed inclined to speak to me. Whether you term it a wilderness experience, or whether you think it is the reward of disobedience, it still bites. So, because I often think that I am powerful enough to force God to do my will [please note the wincing grin on my face], I turned off the radio in the car and demanded in my brattiest tone for God to speak to me. I told Him I just needed Him to “drop a word” into my spirit so that I know that He’s still speaking to me and that I can still hear Him. I told him that I wasn’t going to turn the radio back on until He did. [Which I’m sure made Him rush to the edge of heaven in a panic!] Sarcasm aside, I sat in silence for quite some time. Ten minutes feels like an eternity when you’re throwing a fit.
In the eternal quiet of my 10 minutes, I began singing. The tune was “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing”. I only knew a few of the words. But for some reason, the song felt significant, like my answer was in it somewhere. Almost as if God had waited for the strong wind, the earthquake, and the fire to be done [see 1 Kings 19), and the gentle blowing came through the song. I didn’t instantly recognize it. In fact, I got frustrated and gave up. I reached over and picked up one of the CD’s that my friend had given me. The speakers blared with the raspy voice of David Crowder calling for the crowd to sing a hymn with him. “Come Thou fount of every blessing; tune my heart to sing Thy praise…” The voice washed over me as if it were God Himself. And the gentle blowing of His Spirit whispered “this is your answer, child. Now just stop and know that I am enough.” I had to pull the car over for a few minutes. Gentle humbling forces compulsory reverence.

     I sat in awe that God put into motion October 24th, 2008 sometime in 2007. That’s bizarre, isn’t it? Even more incredible is the fact that God loves me enough to move in and through my life that intimately. He even puts CD’s on hold for the moment they are most needed. He knew in advance that I would be right here, in this frustrating place, and He knew that I would be griping. If He purposes moments like this in my life… He purposes them in yours as well. His grace and mercy blows my mind.
So… why that particular song? Next blog…


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Gems N More

I'm about to begin a discourse that's liable to make it fully known what many have privately surmised: the girl is bizarre.
I have the privilege of living near the D.C. area. Sometimes it still blows me away that I, within the space of 2 hours, can be on the mall of the Nation's capital. Despite my nomadic upbringing, I've always considered Oklahoma to be home and never dreamed I'd be sitting on this side of the continent. I recently took a day trip with my son (Luke) and his friend. I am the designated tour guide (a role that I love) and we toured the American Art Museum as well as the Museum of Natural History.

So Luke and friend headed off to the IMAX theatre. I headed to the "gems and minerals" exhibit. Sounds thrilling, doesn't it? Oh, I didn't bypass the "jewel" section and the "Hope Diamond". :) But I am utterly fascinated by gems in their original forms. Before I headed there, I took a second look at a passage of scripture that makes my imagination bug out.

"The material of the wall was jasper; and the city was pure gold, like clear glass. The foundation stones of the city wall were adorned with every kind of precious stone. The first foundation stone was jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, chalcedony; the fourth, emerald; the fifth, sardonyx; the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolite; the eighth, beryl; the ninth, topaz; the tenth, chrysoprase; the eleventh, jacinth; the twelfth, amethyst."

Maybe that does absolutely nothing for you, but I looked for those "precious stones" in the museum. I saw the raw material of someday polished gems. My experience that day was nothing less than worship. Not of the stones themselves, but of a God who sees into the depths of the earth. I wondered at the day that He created it. We look at the earth in greens and browns. But God paints from the pallet of deepest blues, richest reds, brightest yellows and greens, clearest pinks and purples, every hue imaginable in every depth from transparent to darkest ebony. And He does it in the depths of the earth... in secret.

I went from window to window, "rock" to "rock", overwhelmed with the diversity and imagination of a God who would form something so awe-inspiring without the "ahhhhh" of an audience. Instead, we drill and dig. We mine for them... hidden treasures of beauty and value.

I've no words to describe the rush in my spirit. I didn't have words that day. But something did happen. I had an overwhelming response in my heart, a compulsion that started deep within and wanted to flow right out of my fingers. I had an overwhelming desire to applaud. It was unbearable.
I looked around. I was surrounded by unsuspecting people, including "guards". Stoics walking around making certain that no one misbehaved. And there I was... wanting to call for applause. Wanting to scream "HE DESERVES YOUR PRAISE... ADORE YOUR CREATOR... ARE YOU NOT AMAZED AT HIS WONDERS?"

I regret that I let my sensibilities stifle my compulsory worship. Instead of all out applause, I put my hands in front of me and silently clapped for the Creator of the Universe and whispered, "Praise You, Most High! Praise You, my Creator! Aren't You just the most beautiful One! I adore You. Thank You." And so it went. My hands clapping together so that no one could hear but the ear of the Most High God. If someone caught a glimpse of me, they might of thought I had an irritating little habit or tic. They might of thought "that girl needs a friend... look at her talking to herself." But that was all the restraint I could muster. And now I sort of wish I had been absolutely looney for Him. Sometimes it's important to be foolish.

I've thought about that moment a lot this week. And God has built upon the worship to teach me. Sometimes it's the hidden places that He does His most astonishing works of beauty. It's in the seemingly insignificant seasons and places that His creativity flourishes. I wonder... in those disconnected times of our lives when we feel forgotten and unvalued, when we feel our loneliest, when dreams are dying and time is barely moving... is God dealing with the infrastructure? Is He reaching into the depths of who we are and fashioning something to be dug up later. Something of beauty. Something beyond beautiful. Something that, when it's revealed in us for others to finally see, they will stare wide-eyed and say "Oh, look at His wonders!" His wonders in us. His glory in us. In those times is He fashioning worth and deepest hues of character, transforming a rock into a jewel? A jewel that will eventually be unearthed to the glory of His name in us.
I marveled at His word. Just a few verses after the ones quoted above (Revelation 21:18-20), verses 23 and 24 say this: "And the city has no need of the sun or of the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God has illumined it, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it." The Son shines on us and we bring His glory into the kingdom.

You should have seen the way those "rocks" sparkled. Awesome. (Applause, applause, applause!)


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Going For the Silver

I watched the women’s gymnastics last night (2008 Olympics). I loved gymnastics as a kid. I was average. I could do a mean walk-over and my splits were nothing to scoff at. But I watch with jaw-dropped awe at the skill of these women.

I’ve never been much for competition either. I don’t like the whole “stone in the stomach” feeling, either for myself or for anyone else. And that’s what I felt last night. Alicia was ready. She prepared. She had done that routine countless times and nailed it countless times. And her mount on the beam was no easy feat! (No pun intended!) It’s not natural to hit a board, spring into the air, somersault and land solid on a 4” wide beam. She paced and was forced to wait for much too long before her trial came. Her team was praying. Her team was counting on her score. Gold was attainable. In fact, it was probable.

One fall. That’s all it took. And it simply snowballed from there. I watched her finish her routine with a stone-faced look of resolve. She had trouble lifting her eyes to look in the faces of her team and audience. I saw her kneel, hands in a praying position. Don’t know if she was praying as much as she was regretting. She had one more event and she was encouraged to “forget it” and move to the next one.

Another event. Another fall. A huge step out of bounds.

You could visibly see the shame taking its ground in her countenance. The heaviness of it looked unbearable to me. I wondered at her composure. My heart broke for her. Oddly, my empathy wasn’t really because of her “failure”. I certainly know what it means to fail. I certainly know the feeling of public humiliation. I’m no stranger to public shame and self-condemnation.

No, what struck me with sadness was that she didn’t have permission to celebrate. Something wonderful happened last night. The US Women’s Gymnastics Team won a Silver Medal. Alicia one a silver medal. And deservedly. Alicia just had a bad day yesterday. And on her bad day, she received a silver reward.

I’m not an unusually profound person. But I thought of a scripture at the end of China’s celebration, and by the way, those little girls were astounding! Silvr and gold have I none, but such as I have give I thee. I thought Alicia could enjoy this night if she could, in this very moment -  right now, receive what only One has to offer: grace. Like the wrap put tightly on her leg for added support, grace would wrap her heart and hold her. It doesn’t really help to say “shake it off, forget about it, you can’t change it anyway, move on”. I’ve heard all those before. Haven’t you? And were you able? I‘m really not. The more I try to forget, the more I stress over it. The more I try to rationalize and convince myself that the unchangeable is in the past, the more I focus on “what ifs” and the bigger the tizzy I get into. The more I try to move on, the more my engine stalls. No, willing a frame of mind just doesn’t seem to do it.

But grace… grace says, “accept it.”  It says, “hold this moment in your heart even though it hurts.” And most importantly, grace says, “Now, this is the truth; yes, that happened, but YOU are what I cherish! YOU are valuable! More valuable than gold and  more valuable than the silver that hangs around your neck. YOU are loved and known and fully received, not your performance. Grace says, “maybe next time, maybe not; either way, I love you.”

I thought about my “Alicia moments” last night. I recalled those nights where I could only focus on the gold that was lost. Though the grace was offered, I couldn’t open my hands to receive it. The shame seemed more appropriate, I guess. It’s our just reward for poor performance’ especially when our poor performance plays out in a public forum.

But now, as I look back at huge failures that have finally felt the deep-heat rub of God’s grace, I’m able to humbly accept them as part of my own eternal Olympic experience. They don’t have even the wince of shame anymore. They are what they are, and I still hold the silver from them. There’s a hard-earned reward that comes with failures finally owned. Don’t hear much from the silver medal winners. Not a whole lot of boasting goin’ on with them. Maybe it’s the bitter-sweetness of winning in the losing.

Makes me want to open my hands though. Open my hands and receive the grace of God for this day and the quiet little failures no one “ooooohhhhhed” over. The private races where I’ve come short of the gold. The private races where really, truth be known, I didn’t medal at all. I’m thrilled that God isn’t counting the medals around my neck. He’s more apt to count the scrapes and scars on my knees. It’s a comfort to a beloved stumbling eternal Olympian.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Crutch Free... Just Me... Oh Gee...

**I believe that God sometimes peels truths like an onion for us. Though we know them, we know them more deeply, and more deeply, and more deeply... this testimony is one of those.

We have lots of wonderful changes happening in our household. Luke is entering college. Jonathon is moving on campus and in the middle of wedding plans. There's excitement. There's stress. There's intense joy. There's fear. These are the things in life that most of us await with hopeful anticipation, me included.

Yet yesterday I was overwhelmed by a wave of loneliness, or maybe something deeper. An old familiar feeling of being in something so big that you're not known. Insignificance. I saw the last year and a half in a fast rewind. Moments with God where I knew He was asking me to let go of something. A leadership role, a teaching role, another leadership role, a job, material security, a daughter (who moved out of state), home security, another teaching role, a fellowship, sons... areas in my life that I invested in. Plowed and seeded. Areas that I found some sense of satisfaction, purpose, value. Significance.

So I'm mulling... and I get this picture. There I am with a golf bag. [No, I'm not a golfer, but I play one on Wii. :)]
Forgive the digression. There I am with a golf bag. A heavy one. It is filled with crutches. Picture them labeled with all of the aforementioned things I was asked to let go of. And I'm walking alongside Jesus. He says to me, "Child, you're stumbling." I say, "Oh, right..." and I grab a crutch out of the bag and try walking on the rocky terrain still carrying my crutches. There is this huge desire in my heart to please the one I'm walking with. I'm doing my best to keep up. After all, He invited me to walk with Him and to serve Him. In fact, most of these things were gifts from Him in the first place. They are not sins. They are places of service, relationships of value, needs God faithfully met... focal points of my heart.

So I pull out my crutch, that focal point that keeps me busy or helps me to feel needed or makes me feel valued, and walk alongside Jesus with a "watch me... aren't you pleased... how am I doing...aren't you proud?" I've systematically watched God remove each crutch from under my arm as if to say, "try the next one, Child. You're still stumbling." I put my weight on each one of those things in hopes that they would make me walk upright, make me walk with my head up... in hopes that I would somehow be the special one in His sight and maybe in the sight of others.

The truth is: nothing makes us feel that grand sense of significance for long. We might get so good with our crutch that we gain some applause in ministry. We might actually get good enough that others may choose to follow us. We might gain value from being the hub, the one others come to for advice. Even the crutch of busyness or a career or family fun can help for awhile. Eventually, none of them make us walk whole and upright. We're reallly just stumbling under the load of 3 feet rather than 2.

In my picture, I get down to the very last crutch... and God asks for it too. I'm standing exhausted with an empty golf bag and nothing left to fill it. Just me and Jesus. I stop and set the bag to the side of the path and continue to walk next to Him. He says to me, "Your stumbling..." At this point, I'm left with nothing to do, no focal point to take my mind off my stumbling. No focal point to rationalize my stumbling. No focal point to be the silver bullet that will finally make me significant. Empty handed.

And I could see His face. "Your stumbling..." wasn't said with anger or disappointment. It was meant only as an observation... only to help me to see my own state. It was a mere fact. I can see the compassion in His face... "Denise, your stumbling..."

The last crutch gone I felt despairing, done with... shelved. How can I walk on when I've nothing to do for Him (no bag to carry)and no way to keep from stumbling (no crutch - no heart focal point to make me signficant)?

The scene in my mind went to a man running. He had just done mighty things in the name of God. He was afraid. He was alone. He found a juniper tree, sat down, begged to die, and went to sleep. And God said to Elijah, "Arise and eat."
And He had prepared for Him a meal, gave Him more rest, and the next day again said to him, "Arise and eat. You'll need strength for the journey." I wondered about him. Did the big thing he did "for God" not fill Him up either? Had his heart focused on the call instead of the Caller like mine has so often done? Where were his crutches? Had he just used his last one? "Arise and eat." And He gave him bread and water. He gave him Himself, the Bread of Life and Living Water. And His Presence was to be enough to strengthen him for the journey.

Yesterday as I stood there in His presence, I realized that the removal of my crutches was God's mercy to me. With each one pulled from my hand, my Lord was saying, "I love you, child, but this is not why...You're important to me child, but this isn't the reason... You matter to Me, but not because of this..." I stood there with nothing... just me... oh gee. I sunk to my knees and realized I'm a beloved stumbler. I realized that walking with Him is to be for the pleasure of His company. And I had His presence near me all along. What makes any of us subconsciously pursue the attention of God? What makes us beg quietly in our spirit with everything that we do: "Oh God, please notice me"? We have never gone unnoticed.

Humbly stationed on my knees, aware of all my frailty, aware of the insanity from which I finally woke, His word pierced my heart.

"...but He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness. All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful [crutch removal can be a bumber], but sorrowful [sometimes to the point that you find yourself under a juniper tree]. Yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness. Therefore [Denise], strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble [yep, your a stumbler], and make straight paths for your feet, so that the limb which is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed."

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy laden, 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."

And then finally, "Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in the presence of His glory blameless with great joy..."

"You're stumbling." "Oh, right..." And then deep within my heart I heard the appropriate response. "Nevertheless You, Lord, are continually with me; You have taken hold of my right hand. With Your counsel You will guide me and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, but You are the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Your nearness is my good. I will make You my refuge so I can tell of all of Your works along the way."

I think I actually heard Him say to me: "Denise, You matter to me. If I never let you lead, teach, serve, or do for Me ever again... will my love for You and My presence, My company, be enough?"

Crutch free... just me... oh gee. I still matter to Him.
And besides You, I desire nothing on earth, Lord.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Sporting A Toe Tag

BLAM Jonathon! [Thats my #1Son - does anyone else have Charlie Chan running through their grey matter?] I was right and you, Jonathon, were _______ (humbly fill in the blank). I wasn’t fooling! Toe tags are real. Checked it out on Wikipedia! Used to tie to the big toe of a corpse for identification. (FYI it’s no longer done that way.) Sorry to those of you who just tuned in so let me fill you in.

We heard a fabulous message by a local pastor this Sunday. It was called CSI: Crime of Passion. Instead of focusing on the death of Christ, his emphasis was on the death we each died with Christ. As a reminder, he handed out tags with Galatians 2:20 written on them. “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me.” I shared with Jonathon (after the message because I know proper church etiquette.  Don’t be so shocked!) that I am keeping mine as it is my spiritual toe tag. He asked, “What’s a toe tag?” I defined. He defied. And thus this blog!

BLAM again! I just like mimicking #1Son. My toe tag is a simple reminder that the old is dead and that Christ now lives in me. A simple reminder to believe and to live as risen. Indeed!
That’s the tough part, isn’t it? Believing I am in Him in the moment that my flesh says “I”, “me”, “my”, “my rights”, “my wants”, I’m sure I speak for some of us (trying to play fair) that we often forget that we wear the marks of a cross and that we have died to sin, that sin no longer has mastery over us. Though it certainly seems to have a voice in this body of mine, I need not heed it. It’s “not the boss of me.” And so I bear my toe tag.  It is the mark of an old identity that no longer remains, that was killed in the agony of the passion of Christ. Jesus put to death for my crime; the old self put to death for His joy. Certainly not a fair exchange.

Since I can’tt really walk around with the tag tied to my big toe (though I fancy Ezekiel would have done it!), I’ve tied it to my writing bag (if you know me, I need not explain). It is not just a reminder (shame on me for ever needing one) of my death to sin, but a reminder for me to daily live to walk fully by faith in the grace and power of His Spirit.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

"EDeniser" Stones

1 Samuel 7:12 says, "Then Samuel took a stone and set it between Mizpah and Shen, and named it Ebenezer, saying, 'Thus far the LORD has helped me.'"

I've been concentrating on some verses about grace. A friend of mine said something recently that stung - I appreciate the mark it left. She said "I don't see the praise of the glory of His grace on you." I don't think she meant "never", but her words went down deep. With the freedom that I have received in Christ, it felt like a really low blow. But God used it to help me to see my recent state with His eyes.

Has God put His finger on something that needs to be changed in you? Have you attempted to change it? Put all your energy toward changing it? But still you find yourself right back in the same place, dealing with the same old thing, wondering why your best efforts have failed again.

Evan H. Hopkins cited a work called "Practical Mistakes" in one of his books. In "Practical Mistakes", the writer says this: "I saw that hitherto, if not in theory at least in practice, I had had one way of obtaining forgiveness of sins and another for overcoming indwelling sin and seeking to please God. The former was sought by believing, the latter by painful effort. Between the two ways there was all the difference of faith and works. But I was now convinced, by repreated failures made after solemn resolutions backed up by determined effort, that I had no more power to restrain my thoughts from evil than when destitute of the grace of God...The reason of defeat now appeared to be, not the want of effort, but the want of faith. The frequent experience of failure made failure a frequent expectation and experience. Hence, in addition to the mistake in thinking that greater holiness could, in some way, be obtained by striving, I had sometimes fallen into the error of imagining that this life of conflict and conscious failure must continue until the end. Instead of aiming at sinning not, I endeavored merely to sin as little as possible..."

I think this man's dilemma is more the rule than the rarity for most people. Saved by grace through faith, but trying to sanctify ourselves. Our flesh wants our own righteousness to be the champion. But we are only the trophies of His grace - we are the proof of His victory.

I've been accused of being quite intense in my pursuit of God. There is much evidence to convict me on that point. My most intense times have also born the most fruit. It's part of who I am to be an intense seeker; but I find that as of late, I have been an intense striver. God puts his finger on something; I strive to fix it. I look back on a trail of stones erected in memory of my own self effort. My own "EDeniser" stones: Thus far Denise has helped me. The result has not been the conquering of sin, but rather exhaustion and frustration. I have a latin phrase that moves across my computer screen when it is resting. It is: nisi dominus frustra. "Without God, frustration."

The key to the problem is simply in apprehending the grace of God. Sin is no longer master over me because I am not striving to make myself righteous, but I am under grace (and already declared righteous). [See Romans 6:14] Grace is no longer grace when I work to make myself right before God. [See Romans 11:6] When I seek to make myself righteous, I fail to appropriate God's grace and I "sever" myself from Him becoming ineffective, idle. [see Galatians 5:4]

Galatians 2:20-21 says this: I have been crucified (I have died) with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh (in this body) I live by faith (not by works or striving) in the Son of God, who loved (loves) me and gave Himself up for me. I do not nullify (abolish or displace) the grace of God, for if righteousness comes through the Law (or if I try to be righteous on my own in my own way), then Christ died needlessly.

Every time I set up my "EDeniser" stone and sing "I Did It My Way", I am nullifying the grace of God, severing myself from Him, refusing His grace for my need. Sounds harsh? How does one live to the praise of the glory of His grace when she doesn't rely on His grace? His grace is the fullness of Christ in us, our hope of glory. 1 Corinthians 15:10 keeps playing in my head as a prayer. "By Your grace, Lord, I am what I am. Your grace upon me, Christ in me, did not prove to be fruitless; but I labored even more than all of them - not me though, but Your grace, You, in me." Intensity? Yep. But the intensity of desperation. The intensity that forces me to cry out for help from the only One who gives grace to help in our time of need. I've got to learn to focus my intensity on kicking over the EDeniser stones and embracing my own ineptness, believing with a whole heart that I cannot deliver myself from my own sin... ever.
It's only then that I cry out for the grace of God and His power and victory come... to the praise of the glory of His grace.

Oswald Chambers said, "We must get sick unto death of ourselves, until there is no longer any surprise at anything God can tell us about ourselves. There is only one place where we are right, and that is in Christ." [My Utmost for His Highest, June 21]

Today I choose by faith to set aside my own self efforts to lay hold of the grace of Christ; to set up a stone today that says, "Ebenezer: thus far the Lord has helped me." And maybe this evening another one... thus far the Lord has helped me. And maybe tomorrow another one... thus far the Lord has helped me. "For of His fullness we have all received, and grace upon grace." Good-bye EDeniser. Hello Ebenezer for thus far, the LORD has helped me.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

The C&O Encounter

I got up this morning with every intention of an orderly, disciplined day. I had a few errands to run. But there was this unction in my heart, as if the Lord was saying, "Come walk with Me." I took Him literally and drove to the canal to walk.

Without going into details, God and I were chatting about some current struggles I've been having. I had walked quite a distance... my breathing was faster and my feet were moving slower. I could hear faint talking behind me and knew there were some men coming up from behind. When they got close, they greeted me.

And then a God moment began. I had just been listening to a cd in my car by John Ortberg entitled Scripture, The Church, & Women. He talked about the tenderness of Jesus toward women and how He values them. These men introduced themselves as pastors at a local church and asked if they could pray for me. They couldn't have known, and in that short time I couldn't have told them everything, but I was having an Emmaus moment. I simply told them I was tired and, in not so many words, that my focus lately has been on serving rather than worshiping. God was saying "come to Me, child" over and over this morning.

These past few weeks, as my ear has been more acutely tuned to God, I realize my exhaustion has come from my striving to hang on to what God has said to let go of. In an effort to let go, I've been frantically searching for other ways to fill the loss. That's exhausting too. God doesn't make it this hard... I have felt shelved - somehow unimportant. I've kept a hold of a few things in order to not feel discarded. Shall I just shout: RED FLAG...RED FLAG...RED FLAG!!!! Jeepers.

So back to the story at hand... I was asking some really tough questions of my heart this morning. I was confessing my insecurities to God and repenting of my pride. And then I said these words: "Lord, the cry of my heart, as selfish as it is, is to matter to You and to others. There's pride in there and yet there is a genuine desire to serve You whole heartedly. Help me to know that I matter to You and let that be enough so I can rest." And then two pastors show up beside me and ask if they can pray for me.

They couldn't know, but Father was saying to me... "Denise, you matter to me. I sent two Pastors to pray over you this morning. Two men to be the Jesus who values women; two men who know what it's like to be tired and to be refreshed; two men that know what it means to "be" as much as to "do". For awhile I thought what God was saying was, "You have to let go of the old, to embrace the new that I have set before you." And that is true to a degree. But after these men met with me this morning, I realized what He's been saying to me is really this: "You have to let go of the old. And you can't take hold of the new until you first take hold of Me. Come to Me." The hope of my calling is Him and is in Him. These faithful men affirmed a wayward heart this morning.

I gave them my web address. I hope they visit if only to see they mattered to me and we matter to Him.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

What Do You Seek?

Recently my eyes fell upon this question in John 1. Jesus turned and saw Andrew and another disciple following him. He asked them, "What do you seek?" Their answer reminds me of a couple of kids trying to be cool. "Rabbi, where are you staying?" I can almost see Jesus grin as He says, "Come, and you will see."

I don't really know that there was anything more intended in His answer to them. But when I read this passage, I hear something different than just the plain words.

Maybe "where are you staying?" is simply code for "We just want to know You - could we spend the day with You?" I don't think Jesus uses some code, but I know He hears our hearts over our mouths. Wonder if He heard what I heard today... "we just want to know you." And I wonder if He thought to Himself, "I've chosen you so that you may know and believe Me and understand that I am God." Oh, I know... pure speculation. Just makes me smile to think about it.

But let's take the speculation a little further. Hear Jesus audible response to them. "Come, and you will see." Wonder if His internal voice was saying, "Oh, yeah, you'll see - the blind will certainly see." Seekers eventually see.

What do you seek? Seek first His kingdom... seek first His righteousness...seek Me and you will find Me when you seek Me with all your heart. He is the prize of the seeker.

What a day that must have been for Andrew! He left there and went to find Peter and told him "We have found the Christ!" Seekers find. Or really... maybe seekers are found.

WHO do you seek?


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Daffodils and Cold Feet

My feet are freezing! It's supposed to be "spring" and my feet haven't caught up. From where I sit, I can see the first buds of the tulip tree in my backyard. (I love that tree - it told me today that it misses it's hammock - *hint to that man of mine...) The sun is out, the daffodils are thrilled (the ones in the backyard), and it's really lovely... and quite deceptive. Like I said, my feet are freezing!

All the signs point to spring. Outward indications of something yet to come. My soul is like that sometimes. All the indications on the outside crying out "new", but inside cold and hard. I hate that, don't you? I strive to let the inside be what's on the outside - hypocrisy is cancerous. But when we're cold on the inside, we like others to think that "spring" has come because it's supposed to be here.

All the scriptures that leap off the page of late seem to have gardening terms in them. Cracks me up because I kill everything green I'm responsible for. I killed a cactus because I didn't water it - ever. That's just one of many confessions of "planticide" I could make. Getting back to the point... I recently did a workshop at a local ladies retreat. I had to laugh. Their theme was "How Does Your Garden Grow?" After my teaching time, I was fortunate to attend someone elses workshop - a friend of mine had brought some plants from the plant farm she manages. I was dumbfounded at the info she carries between her ears. Reminded me of a doctor - "You have viral rhinitis." What the heck is that? "A cold." I was told that my "narcissus" in the front yard are stretching and that is why near the end of the day they are falling forward like they're top heavy. Daffodils. (I promise I'm getting to a point... hang in there with me.)

There are a few different versions of the fable of "Narcissus". One of them is about a man who loved himself so much and thought himself so beautiful that he sat at a pool of water, staring at his reflection, until he faded away and became a flower - a daffodil. Narcissistic Narcissus. (For fun say that one 5x's fast!) Another fable says he stared so long at his reflection that he was drawn forward and drowned. My friend Tammy says that daffodils need full sunlight. If they don't get it, they will stretch for it. That's why my narcissus is falling face down.

And finally the point. Cold feet - cold heart. What is the problem? Why does the ground of our heart get so cold and hard? There are any number of reasons, but I just want to bring up one. Maybe we've been staring at our own reflection too long. Maybe we get so "me" focused that we fall into the pool of our own self-worship and drown. Maybe we just fade away and the ground we were meant to thrive in becomes a frozen wasteland.

I submit that daffodils should always be called daffodils. They had a name change for a reason. They've learned not to dwell on self. Rather when they get cold, they stretch toward the sun for warmth and nourishment. What's the remedy for a heart that longs for spring, but seems to cling to winter? Stretch, child! Stretch! Turn your face toward the Son and stretch until the light of His face warms you. We may have to stretch until we fall face down, but when morning comes, the full light of the Son will cause us to stand.

And like the daffodils in the backyard that seem to "thrill", even in the coldsnaps, we'll have pliable, warm soil to grow in. What's inside will be seen on the outside. Spring without the cold feet.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Inquiring Minds

We have a feast every Sunday at our house at 4:00 pm. Lots of meat... lots of fruit... Everyone arrives hungry and everyone leaves full. And everyone comes back the next Sunday with a longing for a repeat.

Sundays at 4:00 is our small group. It was started by an inquisition. Jonathon had reached the ethereal realm between sunday school pabulum and seminary steak. He had a host of questions and couldn't find a balanced meal to satisfy. Apparently he wasn't the only one.

I don't know what made me or even Jonathon think that I was up to the task. Their questions are beyond me. The answers further still. I sensed an urgency in him and the others that tugged so severely at me that, without obeying my screaming inadequacies, I agreed to lead. We've covered some of the huge foundation blocks of faith: origin of sin, slavery of sin, sovereignty of God, election, justification and imputation, Spiritual gifts, etc. And then one of the young men in our group proposed a topic: prayer. When asked "why prayer?", he responded with a question: "If God knows what we need and has a plan for us, won't He work out His plan without us asking? Why ask?" It's not a new question, but an ever perplexing one. I agreed it was a wonderful topic... and then discussions began. No one realized how much the topic of prayer can be so wrapped up in the sovereignty of God and the free will of man.

I bring this up because these "kids" have reminded me of something crucial. We really need to know not only what we believe, but why we believe it. We need to have a smart faith, not a blind one. As I've prepared to lead them, my goal has been not so much to preach, but to guide. In doing that, I've examined and reexamined my own belief system. I found a few blocks that were a tad askew. Sometimes we believe what we are taught without using the plumbline of Scripture. Sometimes we believe a doctrine because it's the more comfortable one. Some of the truths in God's word unsettle us and we choose to simplify God rather than magnify His mystery.

I'm not afraid to say "I don't know" or "I'm not sure". Sometimes my sons view that as a "copout", but it's not a copout when your "I don't know" is based upon an already ardent search for truth. I can stand in what may look like a "gray" area to some, but to me it is black and white: This is holy ground, a mystery, and I can trust Him anyway. Maybe that's where I stand in prayer. My prayers tug at the heart of God. God is sovereign and has a plan. God demands that I have faith, that I believe Him. God still knows what I need before I ask. God says sometimes I have not because I ask not. God says sometimes I ask with wrong motives. God says that we receive all that we ask in His name. It's all true all at once. That's not gray. It's truth. And it's mysteriously wonderful. "I don't know" and yet, "I know."

I continue to seek God about the things I don't understand. I am by design a student of the word - God wired me that way. I love the taste of fresh bread and cool gulps of living water. And occasionally I get a "brain freeze." But as we're feasting Sunday nights, I pray that God will satisfy their soul with His word and never satisfy their godly curiosity. I pray they will know what they believe and stand ready to proclaim both by the word and in their experience, why they believe what they believe. And more than all of that, they'll proclaim with boldness WHO they believe and why they believe Him.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Blinded by Love

I've been walking with Jesus through the gospels for a few days. As we were leaving Jericho, we were followed by a large crowd and there were a couple of blind guys screaming "Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!" Can't you just hear the crowd "shooshing" them? Everyone wants a "piece" of Jesus and the blind duo were cramping their style. Surely Jesus wouldn't want to waste His time. But stand with me next to Him and hear what He yells back: "What do you want Me to do for you?" I can see Him moving through the crowd as He calls to them, coming closer and closer to them. Maybe they can't see Him standing in front of them - makes me grin to think they may have continued to yell... "Lord, we want our eyes to be opened." [Did the Son of God fall back a bit and laugh?]Can you see Jesus' face? All they want is to see. Scripture says "moved with compassion, Jesus touched..." His own compassion moves His hand. Bet that crowd got a little quiet. At the sight of His face, bet those boys started smilin', yellin', and leapin' and then followin'.

"What do you want Me to do for you?" Can you hear it? That sweet voice of your God asking of you such a sweet question. My answer: More of You. I just want to know Him and love Him more. I think I may have yelled that need to Him on several occasions when I was frustrated with my walk and felt like I might be failing Him. Blind to what is ultimately the truth: Jesus would never withhold Himself or His love from me. Of course He wants me to know Him more, to love Him more. Moved with compassion even in those intense moments with Him, His hand reaches out to unblind the eyes of my heart. I can know Him more now. I can love Him more now. I need only open my unblinded eyes and see His face and follow.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

My Dads...

I would wager my dad is the only one on his block with a carpeted garage. Genius has its idiosyncrasies. Filled with woodworking tools and saws, lumber and "kindling", the sweet aroma of sawdust hangs in the air often accompanied by a visiting sneeze. My dad is a master craftsman, a man of excellence in his field: carpentry. I've witnessed his planning method. Coffee cup in hand, he stares in the direction of the work, the "nothing into something" mind machinations in gear, seeing every step before it is begun. With purpose in mind, he meticulously plans every facet of his creation determining time, material, and cost.
Masterpieces aren't produced by happenstance. Inventions may begin by a "banana peel" moment, but masterpieces are premeditated. As awed as I am by my dad's craftsmanship, I am more awed by Almighty Father, the Master Craftsman. Ephesians 2:10 says "For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." The greek word for 'workmanship' is poiema, meaning "that which is made." Take a glance at the word and we see the word 'poem'. A 'poietes' is a worker, performer, doer or poet. God is the poet; we are the poems. God is the worker; we are His workmanship. God is the Master Craftsman, and we are His masterpieces. Consider with me the awesome implications of such a truth!

First, God has a divine design and purpose for each one of us. I love the words penned by Paul: "But when God, who set me apart from birth and called me by His grace, was pleased to reveal His Son in me so that I might preach Him among the Gentiles..." (Galatians 1:15-16a). I was 26 years old when I began to follow Jesus Christ. Many times in the last 18 years, I've had a case of the "if onlys". If only I hadn't... if only I could go back... if only He would have saved me sooner. God has since convinced me that He was "pleased to reveal His Son in me" on November 8, 1988. From before the foundation of the world, God has ordained the spiritual birthday of each of His children. He was not too late in calling us and it is not too late for Him to accomplish His purpose in us. For those of us that are repeatedly stunned that God would choose us at all, Scripture assures that we are no less chosen than Paul. "For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight." (Ephesians 1:4) Handpicked by God to be His children, each of us is a peculiar design for a unique plan for just this hour.

God has also chosen the material for each one of His masterpieces. My dad doesn't begin a job until he has all of the materials that he needs. He inspects each piece of lumber for defects. Is this piece bowed, cupped, twisted, crooked? No, this one is straight. Is there any rot? Is it too green? Are there any knots or cracks? No, this one is perfect. And so it goes. But God has an unusual criterion for the raw materials of His workmanship. Are you defective? Are your ways bowed and twisted and crooked? Yes. Do you have the decay of sin within? Yes. Do you have some stubborn knots and broken places in your heart? Yes. Are you green - new, but willing to bend? Yes. You are perfect material! "But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions - it is by grace you have been saved." (Ephesians 2:4-5) God is the Master of taking the old yuck and creating something entirely new. He does not select us because of our goodness. He does not choose us because He needs us. He chooses us because He wants us. Who can comprehend such love?

God has counted the cost of His masterpieces. He paid the highest price for what would seem to us to be the worst material! "You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly." (Romans 5:6) Because of His great love for us, we are told "in Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and underststanding." (Ephesians 1:7-8) God, seeing the depth of our sin and impotence, weighed the cost of our redemption. Thankfully God has a more merciful scale than many of us. Had the price been one of my sons weighed against the sins of mankind, I wouldn't have been so benevolent. God didn't wear holy blinders either. He knew He would get what He paid for. God paid an unfathomable price to purchase you and me - bought from the "as is" shelf at a cost beyond our worth. In those times we believe we have no worth, God would beg to differ.

God chooses just the right tools to produce His workmanship. Shoe heels are not made to hammer nails. (Yes, I know this from experience.) Using the wrong tool for a job can have unpleasant results. More energy is exerted, time and materials are wasted and we can end up with an impaled broken shoe. God's tools are efficient, effective, and eternal. He uses the most effective circumstance or person at the most efficient time to achieve His eternal result. Granted, it doesn't always seem that way from our temporal perspective. Our tendency is to major on the "whys". Why did this happen to me? Why now? Why this way? Why not my way? We attempt to take away the hammer from God in hopes that we can show Him a better method of building. Be assured, not one blow of His hammer is wasted. From the normal frustrations of our day-to-day to the immense tragedies that we face, God is intimately involved in our transformation. We won't spend one moment longer under the sander than needed, but He loves us too much to leave us chained to our own ways. We can know that everything in our lives, both good and bad, is purposeful in His hands.

Every masterpiece God creates has a purpose. Look again at Ephesians 2:10. "For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them." My father built a cradle for my first child. All three of my children had their first dreams in it. My dad is never more pleased with his work than when he sees it being used. It served its purpose and has a special place in our home. (Grace, our family dog, now climbs in it for her evening nap!) With every touch of the Master's hand, with every surrendered heart in His loving hold, we are formed into a vessel for His use. "If a man cleanses himself from the latter, he will be an instrument for noble purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work." (2 Timothy 2:21) Father is pleased when we walk in the works He purposed for us. To be all that He created us to be is the ultimate compliment to our Master. As we yield ourselves to Him, operating in the gifts that He has perfectly placed within us, serving others in the love He has placed in our hearts, Father can say, "This is My beloved in whom I am well-pleased." He delights in our willingness to be useful to Him, yielded and obedient masterpieces of honor.

And finally, God always finishes what He starts. "Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Philippians 1:6) With a certainty, God will see to it that the purpose He has marked out for each of us is completed. He is not a divine antique dealer. He doesn't sentence His masterpieces to a dusty shelf. They are precious, valuable, irreplaceable possessions that never outlive their use. To be a completed work doesn't mean we're "done"; it means that we are fulfilling the purpose for which we were designed. Like my skillfully crafted cradle, completion means leaving a legacy of loving service. We are proof of His divine handiwork. My heart leaps to see the joy in my dad's face (although somewhat understated - try to imagine a John Wayne kind of joy and you get the picture) when the job is finished. With simple satisfaction and just the hint of a boast, he points and says "I did that." At the return of the seventy that Jesus sent out to minister, Jesus, full of joy through the Holy Spirit, spoke these words: "I praise You, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because You have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was Your good pleasure." The word 'joy' does not give the moment justice. It is a word that expresses inward triumph and exceeding exaltation and rejoicing, probably with an outward expression. Jesus was excited that they "got it"! They triumphed in the will of God, and more than that, they were changed by it. Let this be an "aha!" moment. The Master takes great joy in our victorious service to Him.

When we are the masterpiece He created us to be, we bring Him glory. "But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere a fragrance of the knowledge of Him." (2 Corinthians 2:14) We are God's workmanship created in Christ Jesus. We are His trophies and all accolades belong to Him. It isn't the trophy that takes a bow, but the one who holds it. God wants us to know the hope of our calling and to be who He created us to be. He will see that the job gets done. He lovingly chose us, chastens us, and changes us. Can you smell the holy sawdust? It is the sweet fragrance of God at work on His masterpieces, each unique and of immeasurable value. I can almost see Jesus. His eyes are steadied on His workmanship, you and me. Elbowing the angel next to Him, He says, "do you see that workmanship?" And then our Master Craftsman grins and says with a laugh, "I did that!"


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy