Wake Up!
Wake Up!
“Wake up!” My mom would say from my bedroom doorway—just loud enough to do the job. “Sure,” I’d respond and turn over, very hopeful I could jump right back into the unfinished dream interrupted only seconds earlier. If I pretended it was Saturday there was a strong possibility sleep would return. Thoughts of the incredibly soft and comfy bed guaranteed great sleepy thoughts. Absent were any thoughts of actually getting up.
Mom’s second wakeup call was not so soft spoken. “Sure,” was the answer again but I didn’t like that voice. It came from downstairs this time; she wasn’t coming back up the stairs a second time. And it came with the exact time along with how many minutes I had before breakfast would be served. Failure to show promptly for breakfast carried swift consequences. The time was informative because I almost always knew I didn’t need that much time to be ready. How long did it take to brush my teeth and throw on some clothes? Annoyed I would pull the covers over my head and think perhaps a new dream would work because I’d already forgotten what I was originally dreaming.
Sometimes thoughts of not feeling well enough to get up and go to school morphed into imagined minor health complaints not bad enough to need a doctor. Before acting on the developing lie, I would probably get up. Not because I was incapable of feigning illness but because often my mother would send my little brother for the third wake up call. He knew no boundaries.
Some facsimilia of this morning ritual played out in my house five days a week. School was far from my favorite thing. Such a seemingly insignificant childhood memory may never have come back to me in its entirety, except I was reading God’s word yesterday in the Book of Revelation, Chapter 3 and He spoke, “Wake up!”
Good morning and wake up—not quite the same
First, I need to say there is no better way to start each day than showing up for “Good Morning, Lord!” time.” I set the alarm for this! Years ago, I discovered the rich exchange of communication with my Creator, my Father, my Abba, Jesus which is available to all of us. As a senior I’ve come to call it my manna because He provides the food, the nourishment for the day. He knows the exact manna I will need—supplied from His Word. Only He knows what the day will bring, so I sure want to begin with the best He has to offer. Time with Jesus. Some days the time is spent as He helps me process the unexpected stuff from yesterday. I lag. I also forget. I leak. But the time is always spent with Him in the Word and prayer.
The greater point
Back to yesterday while reading in Revelation 3:2-3. . . When I read, “I know your deeds. You have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up!” I knew the writer, the apostle John, was speaking to the church in Sardis but the sharp jab in my gut told me He was speaking to me in the moment. This was personal. Really? Dead is a heavy accusation. Thoughts immediately ratcheted back to my childhood wakeup scenario but then just as quickly returned to today. The voice of the Lord is not the voice my mother. While I love, love, love my mother, I mean no disrespect—there is just no comparison between the two. If He were speaking to me, I needed to understand how I was dead. He would show me what He meant. My prayers became requests as I turned back pages to a very familiar scripture:
Psalm 139:23-24.
Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.
Praying the scriptures began the needed dialogue with the Lord. Unconfessed sin freely bubbled up. Wake up! A sense of urgency was brewing. The Lord is long-suffering and His waiting is coming to an end. His people need to be on high alert, prepared and engaged in action. I’m one of His. My hands-off perspective of a culture doing a face-plant needed an about-face to see my own role in culture sickness. The Word tells me more about what is really happening right now than the news. We are nearing the return of Jesus! The news is reporting many of the signs that God’s word tells us to watch for and expect. I mean, if I knew for sure that Jesus would be returning in 30 days, what would I do differently? Wake up!
Exposed
While I resented the sleep interruption of Mom’s wakeup call, I would be a fool to resent this one. But wait, haven’t I been ignoring the gentler calls He has been making up until now? Guilty! I’ve known Jesus would return for my entire Christian journey but expectancy has certainly not been lodged in my frontal lobes until recently. I’d grown totally comfortable with all the soft things in my life, thanking the Lord for them every day. In fact, I’ve insulated myself with my own little reality.
Not trusting most news sources and very disturbed by what I do see and hear, I watch as little news as possible. I know it’s going to be bad, I just don’t want to hear it all the time. World news is war, war, war and leadership is scary, scary, scary. The growing threat of annihilating weapons is nearly unspeakable. Our culture is changing so rapidly, morality is disappearing, evil is justified everyday and renamed something good. Increasing violence casts a fearful aura over so much that has long been healthy and safe. What on earth can I do to change this sickening descent of the America I’ve known and loved and a growing worldwide pitch of eminent disaster? My own family has been infected. So, I have pulled the covers up over my head. My focus is my little family and my church. Hmmm. Would that be creating my own truth much like I see the culture doing—that I’m so quick to criticize and judge? Wake up!
The Lord was laying it out . . . I’ve been basking in His grace, resigned to an aging body that simply doesn’t do what it once did and will do even less tomorrow. I’m blessed with more health at this age than most so again I thank Him daily. Doing what I can to stay upright for as long as possible in a broken, fallen world. That’s it? That’s all I can do? A most uncomfortable shame rolled over me as the covers rolled back.
Expectations of me are less as I age so I move slower, meaning I’m having more and more days when I don’t spend more energy than I have to. Ooops! Not sure which of those came first. Whichever, this is all under the heading “Excuses to Bask in God’s Grace.” But there’s more. Telling myself that a senior is entitled to do more of my favorite things and less of my not favorite things. I’m entitled to postpone or simply forget them.
Focus
Who’s voice am I really listening to? Not the right one! Getting older this way has very little to do with being alive in Christ. Is it any wonder He needed to tell me to “Wake up!” I read on . . .”Strengthen what little remains, for even what is left is almost dead. I find that your actions do not meet the requirements of my God.” Goodness! I can see why!
There is no denying that my body is diminishing. However, far more important—my spirit has grown. I have changed dramatically from the person I was nearly fifty years ago. At the same time my spirit has never been stronger than it is today. Then it follows that I am also more useable for His purposes today than I’ve ever been. But not dead. My spirit cannot retire, or hide, or seek only the soft, comfortable, favorite things. Certainly not at such a critical time as now. I’ve been called. So has every Christian. We are equipped for the Lord’s calling. We need to wake up, hear His voice, peel back the covers, and go to work!
Goooo!
Let’s show up for breakfast on time every day. The manna is the Holy Starting Point in a believer’s day. Perhaps Psalm 139: 23-24 needs to be on our plate every morning. I’m not the only one who leaks, forgets, and still sins. Yesterday had some slippage that needs exposure, confession, and forgiveness. Our prayers need to begin in a humble place. The best prayers are inspired prayers— on our knees, submitted, yielded, and fully in His presence. It is an honor to pray to a Father who has promised us over 5,000 things in His word. He’s good for every one of them! I’m old enough to say I’m living proof but so are millions of others through the ages and today.
This Father of Promises sent His son to die for me. I can show up for Him. Meaning, wherever I am, I can pick up my cross and follow Him—wherever He leads. These troubled times mean we need extra portions of His strength, power, and love for our calling.
My time as a senior is running short. The time remaining before Jesus’ return is running short. Perhaps it’s not so hypothetical that He’s returning in 30 days. Just, what IF!?? We get one of these precious days at a time—so let’s make today count the most for Him. With a sense of urgency!
Are you awake?
And . . .
A Holy Kaleidoscope will not only show you why school was not my favorite thing, but you will learn much more about how priceless our brokenness is in the Lord’s hands. Though the book speaks of my brokenness, Annie’s story will lead you to see your own in a holy Light. Perhaps you will discover gems you overlooked. Perhaps you have brokenness that you are still holding tight. Or someone you know and love is very stuck. When we give the pieces to Jesus, life changes in incredible ways—promises fulfilled, joy experienced, we become more like Him.
While you are here, check out my late husband’s book, a verse-by-verse commentary on the Book of Revelation, Jesus in His Glory. Relevant to today? Oh yes!!!
