The visible world points to the invisible — God loves irony.

I grew up in a non-denominational church, of full-gospel variety. We believed in salvation through the blood of Jesus, water baptism by immersion, liberty in the Holy Spirit, healing—yes—even speaking in tongues. I saw miracles as a child and learned at a tender age that God answered prayer; but most of all, I grew to love the Lord and God’s people through my education and experiences in that safe harbor of Calvary Temple Church in Denver, Colorado.

You could say our church movement is a form of Protestantism, although we don’t really think of ourselves as Protestant. Most true disciples of Jesus don’t like the typical cloakes of religion fashioned today; we resist labels and names. We major on relationship with God through His only Son and all the fullness of life that encompasses.

We do believe in being committed to a body of like-minded believers. Some attend big churches or small congregations. Some have only gatherings in their homes. There are many varieties, practices, and forms with the same foundations of salvation and similar doctrine. Our movement thrives today; there is an independence and freedom that fosters growth. This is good and bad. The good is very good, and the bad, well, it’s really rotten. The off-brand kinds of “freedom” are dangerous. They can turn dark and suck the life out. Even worse, they lead to death.

My husband and I concentrate on reaching the Jew with the Good News of salvation. God called us to this. We believe the worst form of anti-Semitism is to withhold the knowledge of salvation to God’s chosen people. I could fill pages about this, but the point I want to make here is that the Church is beginning to embrace its Jewish roots. They are receiving the elder brother, the Jew and Messianic Jewish believers. They are learning about and embracing all things Jewish.

Yes, extreme, weird doctrines have sprung from this early movement; but there is a remnant in the Church that is the real deal and flourishing. Yeshua breaks the wall of partition between Jew and Gentile, and there is a true place of unity.

There are also a lot of Jewish believers in Jesus or Yeshua around the globe. It is estimated there are over 20,000 in Israel alone! Imagine that? They are hated and misunderstood — persecuted and feared. The good news is that they are maturing and increasing in number. And they are unstoppable.

As the Messianic Jewish body grows, there is much interest from the Gentile churches. Everywhere we go, people ask about how to keep the Jewish Sabbath, how to keep the Jewish holidays in their homes. Not as legalistic measures to reach or secure God’s favor or forgiveness but to enrich the experience of walking with and knowing our Redeemer. Yeshua was and is from the offspring of King David. He lived as a Jew and His teachings are rooted in Jewish thought and customs.

As Gentile Christians, our faith grows fuller and deeper and broader when we have a bit of the Jewish context. So we teach on it and encourage it in our own lives and those around us. This hunger is growing in the Church.

But there is another root that is of great value although almost despised and forgotten. It is the place of our beginnings derived from the historical Church. The foundation, from which we spring today, although we are not mainstream, has security and strength because of many victorious, brave, and stouthearted Church fathers, both Catholic and Protestant.

A Church history timeline can be divided into four sections: Early, Imperial, Medieval, and Modern. Men from each period, sometimes mystics of the faith, forged vastly important foundations of theology—prayerfully and methodically, often sacrificially.

Although some have proven to be heretical and not applicable to us, we stand on the solid rock of truth these men of old expounded upon through the ages. Sadly, many grew anti-Semitic like Martin Luther. But this does not invalidate their contributions to the broad and deep river of belief in Jesus and the power of His cross in which we flow.

Now in my sixties, I am drawn more to the depth and richness we have received from the historical Churches, more grateful and curious about these foundations. I have developed a hunger for Church liturgy, and great Church music. My walk with God now demands a different style.

Hear me. This new me does not render the Charismatic or Revival Church movements as null and void. I love high worship and the sweet movement of the Holy Spirit among worshippers. God has promised to inhabit the praises of His people. There is nothing like it. High praise and worship feed my spirit.

But I am also finding I can worship in depth and truth through already written, theologically prescribed liturgy. I love Jewish liturgy or daily and holiday prayers — found in their prayer book, the Siddur. The root of this Hebrew word is “to put in order.” I love that! Although the prayers do not come from my head, they ring in my heart. Although they have been written from another hand and come through another spirit, I found joy and strength in repeating their words, even the same ones over and over.

How about the simple prayer of thanksgiving over the Sabbath bread on Erev Shabbat meal, “Blessed are you O Lord our God, King of the universe, who has created bread from the ground.”

Gentiles bless the food. Jewish people bless the God who creates the food! Each word has meaning and richness, and I never tire in repeating them. The truth bores through the hardness of my heart when I am attentive and fills it up with light and strength for another day.

How about the Mourners’ Kaddish or prayer repeated by Jewish grieving around the globe for centuries taken from Ezekiel 28:23.

Magnified and sanctified be God’s great name in the world which He has created according to His will. May He establish His kingdom soon, in our lifetime.

Let us say: Amen.

May His great name be praised to all eternity.

Hallowed and honored, extolled and exalted, adored and acclaimed be the name of the Holy One, though He is above all the praises, hymns, and songs of adoration which men can utter. Let us say: Amen.

May God grant abundant peace and life to us and to all Israel. Let us say: Amen.

May He who ordains harmony in the universe grant peace to us and to all Israel. Let us say: Amen.

Here Jews are mourning the dead, but this prayer honors the living God and lifts your outlook up and above the grief. I love that. It radiates hope.

I have a beautiful story about how God changed my heart toward the Catholics once while in Rome. I harbored very ill feelings about them. You will find it here. After that experience changed me, I have explored some Catholic liturgy and prayer books as well — not as a way to God but as an avenue of new expression that deepens my own prayers and communion.

Here’s one taken from the Catholic daily prayer book. This is to obtain graces necessary for salvation. Honestly, I had never thought about needing grace to receive salvation. I may not agree with every thought: but in general, I find this prayer takes me to a greater understanding in receiving the gift of salvation that I had never considered.

Eternal Father, Thy Son has promised that Thou wilt grant us all the graces which we ask Thee for in His name. In the name, therefore, and by the merits of Jesus Christ, I ask the following graces for myself and for all mankind: And first, I pray Thee to give me a lively faith in all that the church teaches me. Enlighten me also, that I may know the vanity of the goods of this world, and the immensity of the Infinite Good that Thou art; make me also see the deformity of the sins I have committed, that I may humble myself and detest them as I ought; and, on the other hand, show me how worthy Thou art, by reason of Thy goodness, that I should love Thee with all my heart. Make me know also the love Thou has borne me, that from this day forward I may try to be grateful for so much goodness. Secondly, give me a firm confidence in Thy mercy of receiving the pardon of my sins, holy perseverance, and, finally, the glory of paradise, through the merits of Jesus Christ… 

 Thirdly, give me a great love toward Thee, which shall detach me from the love of this world and of myself, so that I may love other none but Thee, and that I may neither do nor desire anything else but what is for Thy glory.

 These are things I know and feel deeply and want to pray. Things that my faith is built upon. These are meditations that have become prayers for relationship with Jesus. Without these thoughts, I don’t think my spirit would go in that direction. I tend to consider myself and my immediate world in prayer. Maybe a few other requests that cross my path.

Now please know I am not advocating prayer to Mary or any Catholic belief system that is contrary to the foundations of faith upon which I stand. But these liturgical prayers written and offered by saints of old have great merit for my communion, daily.

Otherwise I find that my prayer life tends to spiral into selfishness. You know — to the great scripture about God giving us the desires of our hearts. And I can go back there in prayer many times a day. These liturgical prayers actually help me to focus on the one true thing in life that matters: Knowing Him and making Him known. It is good to concentrate on the depth and sacrifice of His gift offered instead of my list, which may or may not be noble.

I find comfort and communion in those prescribed prayers of others, yes; the ones that maybe made the original Protestants protest and break free from from the hold of the Catholic Church. Of course, I am not mocking this. God will not stand idolatry in any fashion.

But the saints who penned the ancient, liturgical prayers and verses, both Christian and Jewish, carried a passion for God that ignites a spark in me to carry the same torch in a dark world. Liturgy brightens my lamp. It puts “in order” my speech toward God and lets my faith grow in fertile soil. It guards against the destruction of the little foxes of narcissism; and in this day of great self absorption in and outside the church, life needs to be put in order, even our prayers.

Sixteen years ago, my family and I pulled up stakes from the land of Uncle Sam to replant and become rooted in Ukraine for a season. Our sending church entrusted us with pioneering a two-year Bible school for Messianic Jewish believers.

My husband and I were in our 40s. It was a huge undertaking in mid-life!

We had spent the last decade plus as pastors and leaders — very involved and committed in our home church. We served with an amazing staff of elders and had grown very close over the years. There was a tearing that happened when we were sent out. Although it was painful for both those who commissioned us to go and we who left, I don’t believe it was unusual. That’s what happens when you are in covenant relationships with others. It hurts when some are called away to do something important for the kingdom of God.

Despite the pain of leaving, we left in strength. We were serving and loving our lives, enjoying the American dream — that is the American dream from the worldview of believers and disciples of Jesus. He was first and foremost without compromise, but we still enjoyed the “fat of the land” so amply available in the western material world.

When I say we left in strength, I don’t mean we had arrived or were uber mature or spiritual. I don’t mean we didn’t have problems or areas of weaknesses. We were common believers whom God called to serve the body of Messiah in a church. We gave our lives to the Lord and each other, and we tried to be examples of our Lord’s sacrifices and commandments.

Sure, we made plenty of mistakes as ministers of the gospel, and we enjoyed a few triumphs as well. We prayed and planned and waited on God. And He led us through hills and valleys. A few things were resolved in life — and the main one being — we were on a road of knowing God  and making Him known to the world. There was no turning back.

Maybe it is not always true, but in general church leaders hold the place of being the strongest links in the chain — because they rise to the challenge of pouring themselves out before God and man, representing the Lord to the people and the people to Him. Often we were only a half a step ahead of the flock, depending on God for every move. We prayed for vision and played a part in making it known. Those were glorious days of growing as a team, worshipping together, and reflecting the Lord on earth.

Suddenly when our family arrived in Ukraine, I found myself as not the strongest in the chain but the weakest. I went from being at the head to becoming the tail — on the bottom.

In my mid-forties, changes in culture, language, weather, and protocol overwhelmed me. Ukraine experienced the coldest winter in 25 years our first few months there. Our accommodations were meager and insufficiently winterized. It was freezing. The food was strange. I came to teach, but found that I must become a learner in order to survive — much less teach!

This was old-fashioned culture shock, and it was typical. But for some strange reason, I didn’t expect I would have to endure much since I had lived in Israel for three years on a kibbutz in my early 20s. I had studied Hebrew, learned a new culture and job and had done it quite successfully. I lived in difficult circumstances there too — in a wooden shack and took showers in a public bathhouse. We used a public outhouse! I conducted my work day in another language, and I became a leader and instructed others in Hebrew!

I had mistakenly thought I had paid my “cultural” dues.

In the early 1990′s, Communism had just fallen and the former Soviet Union struggled to become a free-enterprising democracy. Those were years of  birth pains and suffering, much different from life under Lenin, Stalin, or Kruchev.

Communism had stripped the Soviets of their belief in God and trust in religious systems, whether Jew or Gentile. The vacuum of fallen government and struggling democracy made the people very hungry for faith, and more specifically God in the form of Jesus Christ. Those were glorious days of spiritual strides as we joined the ranks of numerous teams that flooded into the former Soviet Union preaching the gospel. Thousands came to Jesus and needed to be fed and discipled.

I remember those days as the most difficult of my life and the most rewarding. Each night my husband and I would fall into bed utterly exhausted, often bewildered by the culture, challenges, and problems yet joyful that we decided to go — even in mid-life with the unpaved, uncharted road of pioneering ahead of us wound into the difficult unknown.

We began the first Bible school in a fishing village 90 kilometers outside Odessa, Ukraine, in a Communist indoctrination youth camp. Much to our amazement, twenty-five eager students showed up. Another couple and their three boys joined the effort, so we were two families — four adults putting effort into pioneering the first Messianic Jewish Bible school.

Of the four, I was the weakest link. The cultural adjustments bothered me the most. I was shocked at my own reactions, even embarrassed. And… the battle seemed too intense, more suited for someone younger and energetic. The cold bothered me. Russian seemed much harder to learn than Hebrew. The people seemed like aliens, and they looked at us as if we WERE the aliens. In the small fishing village of the coast of the Black Sea, Myaki, some had never seen foreigners, much less Americans from the West.

I wanted to go home — even before our container arrived with all our worldly goods! We went days without heat, fuel, gas, often without water. We couldn’t even take hot baths and were reduced to old-fashioned Soviet washing machines! We hung our clothes on the line and they froze or soured before they dried. It was a real test of endurance, and I wanted to give up.

I was supposed to home school our daughter and couldn’t, because I was too emotionally distraught. She ran wild with the other three boys in the field everyday, carefree and happy to spend life playing instead of studying. I was losing ground and couldn’t get a grip.

I did give up at least once a day. My husband grew weary too, but he didn’t give up like me. Among the four, I was the quitter.

But I learned something vital. Although I was the weakest link, my contribution still became valuable. The others still needed me. God had still called me and felt I COULD handle this. I couldn’t give up. And in spite of myself, I stayed and pressed by taking painful, small steps. I continued to plant, sow, and water in the cold, off-the-beaten lentil patch in Ukraine, where God had place us. He brought a harvest beyond belief.

Now the MJBI has Bible schools in many nations, with Holocaust feeding and outreach programs, congregations, and humanitarian aid works. I can’t take credit, because I was the weakest link in all the plowing and pioneering, but God brought harvest anyway.

Life is funny. One day you can be the strongest in the chain of your calling or career or just everyday living and suddenly find yourself the weakest and ready to give it all up. The lesson is not to glory in your strength when you are on top, not to despise the weak —  rather remember your own limitations in times past. It is a sign of true strength and maturity to bear the weakness of others and see their value when they are not up to par or on your level. It is the best leaders who help the weak with patience and faith.

I am glad the other three had compassion on me in my weakness, urging me onward.

In weakness or strength, the work belongs to the Lord of the harvest. He will not share His glory with any man, lest we think our strength has won the victory.

And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness. Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me” (I Corinthians 12:9).

Bright pansy faces straining their heads to the sun, cheerfully cheering me homeward.

I posted a photo of it on FaceBook and received some requests for the recipe, so I am posting it now on my blog.

What is different about this pie is most coconut cream pies or cream and custard pies in general are made and thickened in a sauce pan and then added to an already-baked crust with a meringue or whipping cream topping added just before serving.

I didn’t want to take the time to do this, so I read a few recipes and took the basic idea from other custard-type pies baked in the oven like buttermilk, chess, or pumpkin pies and came up with this one for coconut-cream filling.

It is all cooked and thickened in the oven by adding eggs, corn starch, and sweetened coconut flakes. It is very hassle-free and quick, even quicker than making Jell-O vanilla pudding for the custard, which is considered a huge corner-cutter in making a cream pie (also not nearly as good!).

Here’s the recipe:

Coconut Cream Pie

1 cup unsweetened coconut milk

1 cup almond milk

2/3 cup sugar

1/4 cup cornstarch

five egg yolks

1/2 cup sweetened, shredded coconut (Reserve 2-3 tablespoons for garnish, lightly toast if desired or keep plain.)

2 tsp vanilla extract

one unbaked pie crust for a nine-inch regular pie pan (not deep dish).

Directions:

Separate yolks from egg whites and put yolks in a small bowl and beat until blended and creamy. In larger bowl, add all other ingredients together (not coconut flakes and vanilla extract) including beaten yolks and cornstarch. Mix well and then whisk by hand until the mixture is blended well and smooth with no lumps from the cornstarch. Add the vanilla extract and coconut flakes and stir. Quickly transfer to unbaked pie dough in a 9-inch, regular pie dish.

Bake on 350 F for 45-60 minutes or until crust is golden and custard filling is firm.

Let cool completely. Just before serving cover the top with whipping cream or Cool Whip. To garnish, reserve a little shredded coconut to sprinkle on the whipping cream, either lightly toasted or plain. Serves 6.

Winter’s bloom withers, and the hope of spring hides under filigree frost while logs sing in the fire.

Awaiting

Earth writhes

under an ancient curse

awaiting the glorious

kiss of new life

unfurled — green leaf,

fragrant bloom,

and sweet fruit,

hiding under winter’s

beautiful barren branches–

so severe,

so filigreed.

I am resolute in 2012 to read more, write more, relax more, research something new, rejoice in family and friends more, and return to my heavenly Father to say thank you again and again. Oh, and I really want to learn to play some ragtime piano pieces! I have a new book!

Morning on the Sea of Galilee.

Stepping over the threshold of 2012 is like standing before a big door and not knowing what is on the other side. It is about 99% joyful anticipation and one percent dread of the unknown. How many hills and valleys stretch before us? Faith must arise in our hearts as we journey through the weeks and months before we actually comprehend what steps the pathway will take.

Let me share something with you I read this morning from Mark 6: 39-44. This is the story of Jesus feeding the multitudes with five loaves and two fish.

The disciples stood before a hungry crowd on the hills surrounding the Sea of Galilee. It had been a long day of ministry and teaching. They yearned to fade away into the evening with the Master, but the people stayed and pressed closer to Jesus and the twelve as the sun began to set.

In that moment of exhaustion and need to retreat, our Lord asked the impossible of them . He instructed the disciples to feed the multitude. The scripture tells us it was about 5,000 people.

“The Message” translation says the disciples responded like this: “Are you serious? You want us to go spend a fortune on food for their supper?” Jesus ignored their faithlessness and worldly reasoning and pressed on with a plan, and I gleaned so much from what He did:

1)    Jesus asked the crowd to sit in groups. –This act of organization prepared the masses to receive and allowed them to rest peacefully as they waited.

2)    Jesus called for the resources available, and He blessed the God of heaven for the two fish and five loaves. –Jesus thanked the Lord for what was already provided, although it was laughably little compared to the need.

3)    Jesus broke the bread.  –He demonstrated diligence and resourcefulness with what was provided, and He pressed on to feed the hungry people with what was at hand.

4)    The disciples passed the bread to the crowd. –They showed generosity and not stinginess with the little.

5)    God miraculously multiplied the food. There was enough for all with 12 baskets left over!

I have always believed that God wants to answer my prayers with abundance in every area, financially and otherwise. And I have kept my hope and heart open to the miracle of receiving 12 baskets leftover. In other words, I have believed God wanted to answer my prayers in big ways that would produce much fruitfulness.

But it seems I have had the cart before the horse. I have prayed and believed God would send the over-provision or surplus or I might even call it the “million dollars” that would thrust me over the top to do His will.

By focusing on the super abundance of the 12 baskets leftover, I missed the fact that God starts with five loaves of bread and two fish — an impossible and insufficient amount to do the job… to feed the 5,000! This is where the miracle takes place — in the ridiculousness of the insufficiency. As the disciples prepared the people to receive, thanked the Lord for what was provided, broke and distributed it, suddenly it multiplied. No one knows how except the Lord.

And it grew and grew until there were 12 baskets leftover. I have been focusing on the big and not the small, actually thinking God was not answering my prayer as He promised. The truth is that many times in life my husband and I stood at the point of insufficiency, and God has multiplied and multiplied so there has been plenty and more than plenty.

God doesn’t answer your prayer for ample provision immediately with twelve baskets leftover. He begins first with the insufficient five loaves and two fish and thousands of hungry people. He offers you the choice to receive it with gratitude and administrate it faithfully, although it is ridiculously small compared to the need.

The rest will be history — another miracle on the shores of the Galilee with 12 baskets leftover. That’s the kind of year I feel 2012 will be for those who faithfully steward what is set before them.

That is God’s way.

The opportunities before us in 2012 are great, but I am in reality about the material resources currently available. We need a miracle, and we know the Miracle Worker!  The Bible truth from Mark has strengthened my faith as I look to God to increase what we have. I must take diligence with stewarding it faithfully, and I must continue to be generous as I look to God alone to multiply.

I am sure you feel the same as you peer into the unknown components of the year in a season of economic downturn. Two factors are clear: There are many pressing needs and limited resources on paper. You need a miracle too! Let us lift our eyes together to God above who will supply all our needs according to His riches in heaven, just like He did on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.

Let not winter come in winter. Why should cold, suffering, and barrenness be twice born?

Pray that your flight takes place not in winter, nor on the Sabbath. ~Matthew 24:20