(Photo by Roman Bintang on Unsplash)

Lot went out and spoke to his sons-in-law, who were pledged to marry his daughters. He said, “Hurry and get out of this place, because the Lord is about to destroy the city!” But his sons-in-law thought he was joking. With the coming of dawn, the angels urged Lot, saying, “Hurry! Take your wife and your two daughters who are here, or you will be swept away when the city is punished.” When he hesitated, the men grasped his hand and the hands of his wife and of his two daughters and led them safely out of the city, for the Lord was merciful to them. As soon as they had brought them out, one of them said, “Flee for your lives! Don’t look back, and don’t stop anywhere in the plain! Flee to the mountains or you will be swept away!” By the time Lot reached Zoar, the sun had risen over the land. Then the Lord rained down burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah—from the Lord out of the heavens. Thus he overthrew those cities and the entire plain, destroying all those living in the cities—and also the vegetation in the land. But Lot’s wife looked back, and she became a pillar of salt. Genesis 19:14-17, 23-26

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Lot’s wife. I’ve been trying to imagine myself in the midst of all the sin she was surrounded by and the feelings of anxiousness I might feel. I would want out, and fast. I would want my family protected from all of that.

God, with his amazing mercy, allowed them to leave the land before he destroyed it. This was it! This was her chance to flee, to take her family to a better place. What relief. She was given one command, “Don’t look back.”  Seems easy enough, right? I mean it was horrible there, I’m free to leave and rescue my family, so why in the world would I look back?

Yet, as she was leaving the land, human nature was more than she could bear. She turned and looked back.

Why? I have several assumptions… We can never really know, because she was turned into a pillar of salt, so no one can get her thoughts. There was no interview to be had because, well, she wasn’t able to speak. My mind could only imagine a few reasons why she may have looked back.

Maybe she was afraid of the unknown. What she was living in was horrible, yet she knew it. She knew what to expect, and she may have gotten comfortable with the sin around her.

Maybe she was afraid for the people left there.

Maybe she made relationships and she didn’t want harm to come to them.

Maybe she was hoping God would change his mind and give them one more chance.

Maybe Satan said to her, much as he did to Jesus, “Did God really say he would destroy them?”

Whatever the reason was, I’ve often thought about how many times in this life I’ve looked back.

There are times in my life when I’ve wondered if I made right decisions, questioned myself when I knew I had heard God, looked back and wondered why I took that new position or why I moved to a certain place. Was it me making those decisions? If God spoke to me and told me to do these things, would I have trials? Would it be this hard?

Friend, we have to make the decision today to stop looking back. He never said everything would be easy if we followed him. In fact, he said we would encounter trials along the way, but to consider that Joy because our faith would be stronger. Whatever you hear the Lord telling you to do today, do it. Don’t look back. Even when you are tempted to question, keep your eyes focused on Christ and the prize laid before you. Don’t be a pillar of salt, be salt and light to the world. Keep moving forward with Christ in the lead.

Jesus replied, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” Luke 9:62

There’s a hymn I like. I like the words “I love to tell the story….something, something” I forget the rest but then I hum the tune. I like it because the words resonate with me. I do indeed love to tell a story. I love to hear a good story too.

Once in the third grade I learned another name for story was yarn. I underlined that vocabulary word, yarn, put a dash out beside it and defined it as a narrative of adventures, or in other words, a fabulously told story. I’d already had much experience with such things. I come from a long line of yarn spinners, and by the time 3rd grade rolled around and provided me another name for a story, my love of one had already been declared.

My Aunt Sis, yep that’s a thing, an Aunt Sis, a for real person, who can spin a yarn better than most. She filled my 9-year-old ears with tales of the poor Hinkle children barefoot and stair-stepped playing for hours in the woods. She told of me about adventures long since passed and mostly forgotten, adventures that’d’ve even made Huck Finn jealous. I reckon the love of a good story comes from deep within the roots of who I am.

Part of a good story is the teller. The narrator of the story has the power to make or break it. I practiced my yarn skills growing up and to this day when my story gets a little heavy on insignificant details, a little long on the verbiage my mama will often, in an exasperated tone say “For the love!!! Land this baby!!” That means, I’ve talked too long and it’s time to wrap it up. Sometimes I can hear her in my head when I am posting on the Facebook, writing out a Blog post, recounting my day, any number of storytelling mediums. I can hear her saying the same “For the Love! Land this one already.” I’ve just a mind to do that.

There is a particular Storyteller who happens to be one of my favorites. I love how he carefully weaves his words together to produce such an accurate picture I can almost smell those biscuits his mama cooks or feel the air of the Alabama mountains. Unlike another one of my favorites, I’ve never met this guy. He’d likely say, “Amy Martin who?” unless of course he coincidentally knew one of the other 900 Amy Martins in the state of Alabama.

He regularly writes for 2 of my favorite periodicals. I asked mama just the other day if she’d gotten her latest edition of the issue to which she holds a subscription. His writings require trips to the library for me to catch up on his wordsmithing publications. However there is one, that like many Southerners, my Mama holds a subscription. She reads it and places it on the coffee table knowing I’ll make my way there to read it. I will often head to her house, make myself a Pepsi on ice, settle in my favorite chair, flip to the next to last page of the newest issue and find his article. We meet regularly, the Author and I, having settled in for a one-sided conversation with an old friend. It is a few moments every month I truly enjoy.

So when recently I inquired about the location of her latest issue to my dismay she said, “No, I let my subscription run out.”

I debated going to library or even the dreaded Big Store of Confusion to see what my friend had to say for the month. But as it would happen, after a drive in a torrential downpour, peering through foggy windows and a safe arrival 10 minutes late for an appointment, I looked on the waiting room table and there he sat, as if he were waiting for me to come in from the rain. In that long-awaited issue, He talked of New Orleans and beads and hotdogs. I mused at his statement about the men in Dr Seuss hats, “because you couldn’t get snockered enough for a Dr. Seuss hat, even if you had not grown up Congregational Holiness.” The King must’ve known when he prompted its placement on a table, I needed it desperately. A little something just for me. It was in fact, a reminder that the King knows the little things and the big things and is concerned with the details of my life.

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. Psalm 139:1-4

To the mom whose kids are grown and gone and you’re now caregiver for your sweetheart of many years – God sees you!

To the mom who is bleary-eyed and greasy-haired and in the midst of a cluttered house nursing a sick baby – God sees you!

To the mom who is a mother at heart but not physically a mother yet and desperately yearns to be – God sees you!

To the mom of the addict that leaves you fearful to hope, struggling to maintain your faith, and desperate for relief – God sees you!

To the mom of a child put in your care because his own biological mom isn’t allowed to have him right now, who puts in hours of prayer and caring and playing and guiding – God sees you!

To the Spiritual mother of many tender souls, who has a purpose greater than you realize – God sees you!

To the mom whose heart is torn, spirit is beaten down, and fears abound every single night – God sees you!

To the mom of a chaotic houseful, running here and yon and burning the midnight oil – God sees you!

To the mom of a child that struggles with physical, mental, or emotional trials that make your life seem anything but “normal” – God sees you!

To the mom of a grown woman who you worry and fret and pray over, longing for her to come fully into God’s purpose for her life – God sees you!

To the mom who feels abandoned, unseen, forgotten – God sees you!

To the single mom doing it all with a tired body, a tight budget and no real help – God sees you!

To the mom of a rosy pink newborn who finds herself overflowing with joy, but also with doubts and fears she’d never imagined having – God sees you!

To the mom waiting to adopt – longing and choosing and knowing that she is Yours, but waiting for the red tape to make it real – God sees you!

To the mom to many, the matriarch of the family who has seen many changes and ups and downs through the years – God sees you!

To the mom who is on her knees every morning for that wandering, lost child that you fear will never turn back to his heavenly Father – God sees you!

To the mom of teens trying to trust enough, be protective enough, sleep enough, guide them enough, be patient enough… God sees you!

To the mom of that child who has cut you off from a relationship with them and leaves you with more questions thatn answers – God sees you!

To the mom of preteens in the midst of a whirl of emotions that can turn on a dime, and a whirl of technology that you can’t seem to keep up with and protect them from – God sees you!

To the mom outcast, or with an outcast child, grieving for loss and friendship – God sees you!

To the mom watching your child slowly die, feeling all hope draining away as life is draining away. – God sees you!

He sees you.

He knows you.

He loves you.

Jesus loves you.

Yes, you!

“She [Hagar] gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: ‘You are the God who sees me,’  for she said, ‘I have now seen the One who sees me.’ ” Genesis 16:13

“Since ancient times no one has seen, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any god besides You, who acts on behalf of those who wait for Him.” Isaiah 64:4

“He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all – how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things?” Romans 8:32

I have been following the blog of a little girl named Lavendar for about and year and a half now. Lavendar was born with a condition called Trisomy 13. I have read posts written by her mom as she chronicles life with this little blessing. One of the first posts I read detailed the first meetings with the doctors as they discussed the baby’s life and what her prognosis would be. Lavendar’s mom and dad were told that she was “incompatible with life.” Imagine hearing those words describing your baby.

I have read many posts but for some reason those words “incompatible with life” have stayed with me. God has used these words to show me that this is exactly what satan seeks to render each and every believer as we seek to follow God. For every step forward we take, satan schemes to pull us backward and tries to convince us that we are not worthy of the life God has given us. God has a plan and a purpose for each of our lives and gave His son freely so that we might not only have life but that we might have abundant life. Christ came so that you and I could live our lives in the freedom that salvation brings. No condemnation for past mistakes, no condemnation for future mistakes, but freedom. If satan can convince you and I that we are “incompatible” with this life, this abundant life, he has paralyzed us in our Christian walk.

The blog posts chronicling Lavendar’s life are so encouraging. Her mom is a constant source of joy and is so quick to see each obstacle they have faced as an opportunity to move forward, to seek the joy in her situation and even though her little girl may not be free of the tubes and monitors that her condition brings, she is content. She speaks frequently of the struggles they face but there is an undertone of gratitude in each post. It reminds each time I read them to find the joy, the contentment in knowing that this life and all the struggles we face is just a vapor compared to the peace that is to come. True peace comes when our hearts and minds are stayed on him and He is our joy. Circumstances change but God never does. He is constant even when I waver, He is faithful even when I am not. One day sin and sorrow will give way to worship and praise and the thought of shedding a tear will not even enter our minds!

I am thankful for a God who saw me for what I could be and not what I was. He looked beyond the scars and the hurt and said “this one is worth saving”. He saw my heart as a place He could reside! He looks at you and me and sees a life that He can use! Life that is in tune with His heart and ready to be used for His glory!!

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.” Jeremiah 1:5

“My word that goes out from my mouth:  It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”        Isaiah 55:11

She comes from a long line of art lovers.

Her Daddy, Mama, and Grandmother are each artists in their own right.

She loves to draw and it is the form of communication where she is most at ease. I’ve learned much about her from studying those drawings. Sketchbook after sketchbook filled with telling information. She has aptly named them journals. Every week since she was in about the 3rd grade we have attended weekly Bible Study. Since we began, our Bible Study journey our Bible Study day looks a tad different.

It starts on the Tuesday night before with “Set Up” and finishes on Wednesday evening as I collapse into a jello-like heap on the sofa. Wednesday night supper is always referred to as “Brain dead food” because I am so brain-dead I can not even think clearly sometimes. Studying the King’s Word in-depth has been real good medicine in my life and I am thankful that it is readily available for me and my Modern Day Bethany Three.

But, I ain’t even gonna lie, there have been times I’ve wondered if any of them even absorb anything. If the days of “doing their homework” isn’t just a check off on the day to avoid the wrath of Mama and teacher and going to the aforementioned Bible Study isn’t just a time to see their friends. Recently, after a social skills inspired game of Apples to Apples I instituted mandatory quiet time. Charlotte positioned herself into our sunroom. When she emerged she had independently completed a most complicated adult Bible Study lesson. Evidently she was able to recall the answer to a question I had about a particular something from a previous week, and in answering had begun to draw what in her mind’s eye was the answer.

I was in awe of the detail. The special Priestly Garments, even when we studied it, the details amazed me, perhaps it is because I don’t always see the details. A few weeks prior, we studied the covering of the priest, his role and all that surrounded his duties. We noted how all of that was a word picture of what was to come and we Martins decided we were glad we were living in the time of Grace, the time after Messiah. When we no longer needed “ginger cows” aka a red heifer to be purified.

We giggled when we thought about how Daddy would look dressed as a Priest or how mad I might be if I weren’t one and couldn’t talk to God directly. We rolled when we decided Shelton wouldn’t so much mind the smell of it all and how gross so many of the duties were. We’d concluded Shelton could in fact, be the only one of us that could’ve carried out the duties without losing his sacrificial blessed lunch.

The conversations we’ve had as a result of studying together are some of my most treasured, that I’ve tucked away in my mama heart. None of which we would’ve had if we weren’t studying the same thing. I love that in her illustration, Charlotte made light of a dreadful situation, that despite the obvious presence in the desert and the constant whining of the Israelites, there was still joy and silliness she found. I’ve said often, throughout that year’s Journey from the Red Sea to the Jordan River, that I totally can identify with Moses and even the Lord. I know what it’s like to make a trip with a bunch of ungrateful, whiny kids, and I can sympathize. The Martin 3 usually look at me blankly and don’t say anything.

Truth is I’m one of the whiniest ones and no doubt the King thinks the same about me. It is to Him I am thankful for opening the door of His Word for us Martins, for easing the trip through the desert place, for giving me glimpses into how He works in the life of the Martins, and for the reminder that He concerns Himself with the details.

Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light on my path. Psalm 119:105

In the future, when your son asks you, ‘What does this mean?’   Exodus 13:14a

As a child sitting on a pew, I remember watching the tears fall gently down my mother’s face as she held the small cracker and the little plastic cup of purple grape juice in her slender hands. I looked intently into her face, leaned into her ear, and asked her why she was crying. I was concerned, and curious. She told me because of the meaning…all that it meant, the implication of those two little things, and all they represented. How they were a reminder of all Jesus had done, and all He was going to do.

In all honesty, I do not remember her exact words that day in church. I cannot recall the precise description or the heart-felt explanation of her tears. However, I can tell you this: I was never the same. The bread and the cup became so sacred, so precious, such a treasure from then on. I longed to experience what she was experiencing in that moment.

Now, as a mother myself, it’s rare that I take the bread and the cup without tears falling down my face. The treasure of the moment stirs a joy deep in my soul. And, it is also my turn to look into a concerned little face, with whispering lips, and lean my ear toward a curious child…asking, “What does this mean?” And just as my mother did all those years ago, I tell my child how by the “strength of His hand, the LORD” has done marvelous things.

As they were eating, Jesus took bread, blessed and broke it,

gave it to the disciples,

and said, “Take and eat it; this is my body.”

Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks,

he gave it to them and said, “Drink from it, all of you.

For this is my blood of the covenant,

which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

Matthew 26:26-28

Although I’ve experienced one Passover Seder, I remember very little about the details of what was on the Passover Table that last time Jesus sat with his closest followers just hours before his betrayal by Judas and subsequent trial, scourging, and ultimately his crucifixion. However, there are two items I will never forget: the Bread and the Final Cup.

If my memory is correct, during the meal, the middle of a stack of three unleavened pieces of bread is taken and broken as it is passed and shared. Jesus said, “This is my body.” The disciples were the first to hear this new line in the Seder script, this revelation that had been concealed for hundreds of years was now unveiled to them, and would become so utterly tangible in the days to follow. The unleavened bread cracks and snaps in the hands of those at the table. His body would be broken for them – and for us. This symbolic meal, a foreshadowing in ages passed would be fulfilled, lived out, and demonstrated in living, vibrant colors in the days, hours ahead. No longer would the symbol be a veiled-foreshadow, but forevermore, a completed fulfillment of all the Law, all the requirements, an accomplished work, and a bright vantage point of view of our final redemption and salvation. The breaking of the bread at the table that night would be part of the forever confirmation that Jesus Himself was the Yes and Amen to all the promises of God.

I’m confident there is no way the disciples would or could have grasped in the moment everything that was actually happening; but as you and I can now sit and read the account of this holy meal, do we see the significance? Can we grasp the gravity of the moment? Holy Spirit, enlighten our minds.

Hallelujah.

After the bread, next comes the cup of that deep-red liquid from the crushed fruit of the vine. The color of the communion grape juice has always been a favorite of mine. The combination of the red, purple, almost black and blue holds such depth in that little plastic cup I hold between my fingers at my church pew.

When Jesus lifts the cup and declares it to be His blood of the New Covenant, I can’t help but wonder if Abraham and Moses were leaning off the front porch of Heaven, recounting in their own minds the impact of that cup, the impact of a New Covenant, the significance of a New Covenant with the Covenant-keeping God, and the stark realization that there is no covenant made without the shedding of blood.

Although the words of the Seder script in this portion I cannot recall, there is one line in the Holy Scripture that catches my attention every time I hear it. There’s this one thing Jesus says that draws such a strong reaction from my heart every time I take the cup that I almost cannot contain my emotion…

He looks at his disciples and says,

I will not drink this again until I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom. (Matthew 26:29)

Let that sink in.

Jesus is about to face the most intense, horrifying, grueling, strain of physical and spiritual agony and punishment; and yet He’s already talking about the victory that lies on the other side. He’s already talking about the banquet. He’s already talking about the true end of the story. He’s already looking beyond the betrayal. He’s already smiling past the beating. He’s already over the isolation He will experience. He’s already forgiven and finished the task. He’s already thinking past the grave. He’s already casting the vision for a new earth…the old will just not be there.

In that moment, He is preparing them for a kingdom mindset.

In that moment, He is training them for kingdom work.

In that moment, He is giving them victory for a battle yet to be fought.

In that moment, He is the Yes and Amen of all the Promises of God.

Anticipating that cup.

Do this in remembrance of Me.  1 Corinthians 11:24-25