Northwoods Musings | Dave Paukner

Lead-Tipped Whip

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 17:05:00 +0000

There are times the publisher of a dictionary will include a picture alongside the definition for added clarity. Sometimes pictures make all the difference in understanding. Consider describing the color yellow to someone. I’ll bet that no one except a contributor to American Heritage Dictionary describes the color yellow as “one of the psychological primary hues, evoked in the normal observer by radiant energy of wavelength approximately 580 nanometers.” Rather, you would point to a ripe lemon, and say with confidence, “That’s yellow!”

Here is another picture:
Then Pilot had Jesus flogged with a lead-tipped whip. The soldiers wove a crown of thorns and put it on his head, and they put a purple robe on him. “Hail! King of the Jews!” they mocked, as they slapped him across his face. (John 19:1-3)

This verse has nothing to do with the color yellow or ripe lemons, and everything to do with being a picture to bring deeper understanding to a certain word, and more specifically a certain behavior I once proudly wielded with considerable skill.

The following is a synopsis of an on-going dialogue I have had with God.

Dave: After dealing with my cynical nature, You promised to address my sarcasm, but aren’t they the same thing?

God: No, they’re not the same thing. The two are often mistaken for each other, but cynicism is different from sarcasm. Sarcastic behavior and talk is what cynics use in an attempt to protect themselves. Remember that you developed a cynical nature in order to insulate yourself from being hurt by people you didn’t trust. Cynicism was the by-product of your intent to not to get hurt. Sarcasm was the means by which you attempted to avoid being hurt. Think about it; what did you do when your self-constructed safe zone was in danger of being violated?

Dave: I would send a warning shot across the proverbial bow. I would say something pretty snotty – something sarcastic to repel the attack – real or perceived. I let everyone know that I possessed a sharp tongue and I was very skilled at using it.

God: In other words, you would launch a pre-emptive strike with sarcasm before being hurt.

Dave: I did.

God: See, you used sarcasm to protect your cynical nature. You also used the laughter you received from your sardonic “wit” as a means to salve your wounded pride. There were times you used sarcasm in the form of satire, calling out an injustice, thinking you were doing something noble. So now I am giving you the picture of Jesus being flogged to draw your attention to the deeper meaning of the word sarcasm. The root meaning of sarcasm is found in the Greek word sarkasmos. It means, “To tear flesh.” Cynics view sarcasm as a necessary, witty, and noble tool. I see it as a vicious weapon designed for maximum carnage with little effort.

Dave: I didn’t want to see that it was as bad as that. I was really only interested in protecting myself. Pretty selfish, huh?

God: Right, and another thing. I want you to continue picturing, in your minds eye, the scene of Jesus being flogged. Now, take your gaze off of Christ and look in the eyes of those in the crowd. Look into the eyes of those who are laughing, and those who are recoiling in horror. Look into the eyes of those beating Him. I want you to see the damage being done to all of them - the very souls of the by-standers and perpetrators of such violence. You really need to see that sarcasm, just like a lead-tipped whip that tears flesh, is an indiscriminate violator. No one escapes being ripped, torn, and damaged in some fashion, and it is a patently false notion that a cynic is protected by sarcastic talk or behavior. Its nature is to tear. Ironically, the cynic winds up wounded also.

Dave: There is nothing good about it, is there?

God: There is absolutely nothing good about it; and just like cynicism, sarcasm has no place in the Kingdom. Oh and by the way, since you brought up the topic, have you noticed that since I have begun healing you from cynicism and teaching you to trust Me more, the sarcasm and its damage are being healed also?

Dave: I have. Thank You!

Friends, after this very difficult and deeply personal lesson, I can now point at a lead-tipped whip and confidently say, “That’s sarcasm! And it does not belong on the lips of God’s children.” I hope you can confidently say that too.

Grace to You.

Dave Paukner

The Inner Net

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 17:08:00 +0000

Jesus called out to them, “Come, follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people!” (Matthew 4:19)

Those first disciples left their nets at once and followed Him. That’s pretty amazing considering they left all they knew to follow Jesus into the unknown. That was the first of many accounts of where we see Jesus take the disciples out of their comfort zones.

They were in His presence when He healed on the Sabbath.
They had to have been confused.
They were there when He turned over the moneychanger’s tables in anger.
The disciples were more than likely nervous.
They saw Him talking to the Samaritan woman at the well – alone!
Scripture tells us the disciples were unnerved and shocked.
They were within earshot of His criticisms of the Pharisees.
The word “squirm” comes to mind.
They were on stormy and dangerous seas several times.
They felt outright fear in those boats.
Jesus washed the feet of His disciples.
He was met with protests.
The disciples were eyewitnesses to Jesus’ peaceful surrender of His life to unjust and wicked men.
They scattered, betrayed Him, and went back to their comfort zones!

Jesus is still calling out to His disciples (us) to follow Him. Some are called into some very uncomfortable places. They are called into poor, dangerous countries, into relationships with ungodly neighbors, and some are called to be a voice in a culture that mocks God! Yet there is one place that He invites each of His disciples into - a place that is far more uncomfortable, painful, and possibly more dangerous than any of the places we’ve read about or imagined. It is a place so scary that we often react as many of Jesus’ disciples did.

Many of His disciples said, “This is very hard to understand. How can anyone accept it?” (John 6:60)
At this point many of His disciples turned away and deserted Him. (John 6:66)

What is this place that Jesus calls us to follow Him into that causes so many to turn away?

That place is our own story – our inner world.

Jesus invites us deep into our own souls to see what needs to change. His invitation is found in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-12). Jesus beckons us to follow Him - look into our own lives and assess if we truly need Him, if we mourn our story, if we are humble about our story, and if we really hunger and thirst for a right relationship with God. He asks if our hearts are filled with mercy, purity, and peace. Jesus describes His inner world, and asks if ours matches His. He does not ask this for His benefit; He asks for ours.

It was the inner world of Jesus that compelled those first disciples to leave their nets and follow Him. It was His inner world that caught them – His inner net. It was because of His inner world that the disciples chose to follow Jesus into the depths of their own stories in order to learn about fishing for people. Likewise, I am being shown that if I want to follow Jesus and really learn to fish for people, I need to see that my inner world will never work for the fishing Jesus has called me to do. I need to leave my inner net behind and ask Jesus for a matching net. Per my request, He is rearranging my inner world and giving me a net that matches His. If you ask, He will bless you that way too.

Grace to You.

Dave Paukner

Romantic at Heart

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 17:02:00 +0000

And the One sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making all things new!” (Rev. 21:5a)

Depending on who you are, don’t get your hopes up or get worried that Northwoods Musings is going “chick flick.” It is not. Today’s title does not come from the notion that a romantic is one whose veins flow with Valentine sweets or has a lifetime subscription with Harlequin publishers. Rather, it comes from the true definition of romanticism, which is a longing for things to be the way they ought to be and not the way they are.

I am still in the early phases of a home remodeling project, where the intention is to change the way my home and surrounding woods look. After thirty years, neither house nor woods look anything like they did when this place was new. I have been carefully studying the inside and outside of my home looking for clues in order to get a better idea of what it was like originally. My mind wanders as I imagine the first owners of this house entertaining in the yard, kids running through lawns that are now densely forested woods, and animals grazing in pastures which are now thickets choked with scrubby brush and thorny bushes. I can picture the cows that once drank at a spring on the property - a spring now blocked with thirty years of leaves and other natural debris.

As pleasant as all of the imagining can be for me, it is still only an exercise in looking backward, not forward. And as much as I love my home today, there is something that gnaws at me for this house and property to become much more than it is right now or was thirty years ago. Within me is a crazy tension between being content and the feeling that there is something much better on its way. What’s more, this tension is no longer limited to my house remodeling; it has been manifested in pretty much every area of my life.

Let me explain. Today I am content with God’s blessings, yet my soul longs for something that I can’t quite describe. I’m beginning to understand that what I long for is what God is preparing and has yet to reveal. The world would define someone like me as a hopeless romantic. I know many of you have heard or used that term at one time or another. But I actually would define myself as a hopeful romantic. A hopeless romantic lives with only the longing. A hopeful romantic lives with the promise - and not just any promise. It is a promise made by God himself, the promise that all things will be new.

This tension that I feel between being content and longing for something to be new is not a defect; it is a supernatural by-product of God conforming me into the image of Christ. Deep within the heart of our Lord Jesus is the very same desire for all things to be new – to be the way they ought to be. If that were not true, He would not have followed His promise (above) with these words:

“Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.” And He also said, “It is finished! I am the Alpha and Omega – the Beginning and the End.” (Rev. 21:5b-6a, emphasis mine)

It is His Spirit living within me that places, stirs, and excites the desire for the more, better, and new life; and it is His trustworthiness that enables me to wait. I can consider His promises a done deal – all things will be made new! I am also reminded that Jesus is preparing a place for me, and He’s coming back so that I will be with Him. Knowing this, I can enjoy what I have today, yet long to be with Him in that place. When that comes to pass, it will finally be the way it ought to be.

The Apostle Paul found a way through Christ to be content in all things, and the Apostle John prayed, “Amen! Come Lord Jesus!” So just like they were, I am a hopeful romantic at heart. I hope you are too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Grace to You

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 10:11:00 +0000

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. (1Thes. 5:28)

There are so many options and ways to close a letter. The way a letter is ended very much depends on whom the letter is addressed to, as well as the tone and content of the letter. A letter might end with one of the following traditional closings:

Sincerely,
Cordially,
Respectfully,
Truly yours,
Very truly yours,

Or a letter might be ended in a personal or very personal way. Regardless of which closing is ultimately used, I have come to understand that the way a letter is ended reveals much about the author. A carefully chosen closing also emphasizes and underscores all of the thoughts and ideas communicated in the body of the letter.

My awareness of the importance of closing a letter was heightened after studying the letters the Apostle Paul wrote to the early churches. Paul’s final greetings in most of his letters ended similarly to the verse quoted at the top of this musing. One day as I was preparing for a Bible study, the word grace at the end of each of those letters jumped off the pages; the Holy Spirit pierced my mind and heart. I could no longer skim and speed through the end of Paul’s letters as I had done so many times before. The word grace in Paul’s closings came alive and became a window into both Paul’s soul and mine. Paul understood deeply that all the words penned in his writings were made possible only by the amazing grace of God. He knew to his core that the ideas and thoughts in the letters were not his own, and it was with deepest humility, gratitude, and respect for both God and the churches that he wrote and sent the letters. Paul also knew that it was only by God’s grace that the readers would be able to receive what God wanted to teach them - what He wanted to live in each of the reader’s minds and hearts.

It is in that same spirit in which the Apostle Paul ended his letters that I end each of the musings. They each end with a short prayer for grace. It is a very powerful reminder to me that it is only by God’s grace that I continue to share “Northwoods Musings,” and that it is only by God’s grace that the musings can be meaningful to anyone who reads them, myself included.

This week, I pray that God’s grace (unmerited favor) comes alive in all of us in a new and exciting way.

Grace to you and to me too,

Dave Paukner

Perfect Fit

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 16:52:00 +0000

As I write this, my home is looking less and less like Christmas. The outside lights have been unplugged, and the nativity has been packed away. The presents from under the tree have made their way to shelves, dresser drawers, and closets; some gifts might even be going back to the store. In a few short days, all the evidence of the holiday season will be out of sight until next year.

In the process of packing away this recent holiday season, I discovered some “thing” and something about myself. The thing I found was a pair of pants packed away with the tags still on them. It was a present from many years ago - in fact, so many years ago that neither my wife nor I could remember the year or occasion the pants were received. Upon finding this unused “gift” from the past, I had to face the truth that I have left other gifts unused also. Many times over the years I have found shirts and pants in dresser drawers and storage totes, still in their original packaging.

I genuinely enjoyed receiving those gifts, and was equally delighted to unwrap each of them. But not all were put to use. Some, as I have already admitted, were stored away in “time capsule” fashion. Having said that, the uncomfortable question “Why?” comes to mind. The painfully honest answer is that as much as I loved receiving and opening the gifts, I wasn’t too thrilled with some of the gifts themselves – especially if they happened to be clothing. I liked my old wardrobe and rationalized that the new clothing wasn’t my style or that it didn’t fit. The former was mostly true; they weren’t my style. But as to the clothes not fitting, I never really knew - I didn’t even try them on.

In the midst of getting honest about my receiving, opening, and not wearing gifts from friends and family, God reminded me that this applies to His generosity as well. I am realizing that God, in every occasion, is always providing gifts to His children. This realization causes me to look for His gifts and ask the following questions: When I see His gifts, do I receive and open them? If I receive and open them, do I use His gifts, or more to the point, do I wear His gifts? I am compelled to ask this last question because God, through the Apostle Paul, exhorts us to be done with our old wardrobe and put on His new gift.

But now is the time to get rid of anger, rage, malicious behavior, slander, and dirty language. Don’t lie to each other, for you have stripped off your old sinful nature and all its wicked deeds. Put on your new nature, and be renewed as you learn to know your Creator and become like Him. (Col. 3:8-10, emphasis mine)

This new nature from God is an amazing gift. We are to receive it, open it, and put it on! If we do, more gifts come. We get renewed. We get to know Him. And as if that wasn’t enough, God teaches and transforms us to become like Him! This new nature that God has given me is not my style and has clashed with everything in my old “wardrobe.” That’s actually a really good thing, considering my former “style.” Better yet, when I put the new nature on, I find it is a perfect fit. You’ll find that too.

Happy New Year and Grace to You.

Dave Paukner

Baby Steps

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 17:43:00 +0000

I came naked from my mother’s womb, and I will be naked when I leave. (Job 1:20a)

At first blush this does not seem to be a verse one would think about at Christmastime, but these are the words that came to mind as I have been meditating on the birth of Jesus. Jesus did in fact come from Mary’s womb naked, and naked in every respect – physically, emotionally, and intellectually. Jesus divested Himself from every divine privilege and attribute He enjoyed in the safe harbor of the Holy Trinity.

Jesus did not put His divine power in His back pocket. He did not hide His abilities beneath a suit, hat and dark framed glasses like “Superman” trying to fit in and seem human. Jesus did not have a futuristic metal alloy skeletal system draped in flesh like the “Terminator” in order blend into humanity. He was fully human (flesh and bone-just like us) and fully God at the same time, but He left that divinity behind – out of reach. Jesus disrobed. He chose to be vulnerable – baby vulnerable in an evil world!

Jesus was no longer self-sufficient; He became physically dependent on His earthly parents, Joseph and Mary, for His well-being. Jesus needed to be fed, clothed, and changed. He chose a life of humility, servitude, and dependency. He was at humanity’s mercy without an escape clause. There were no cheat sheets, short cuts, or trained rescue crews standing by to pull Him out when things became dangerous.

Jesus was ALL IN!

More than just trusting Joseph and Mary, Jesus the Son trusted God the Father. He was obedient to the Father’s plan from start to finish – from baby steps all the way to sitting at the right hand of His Father. He lived dependent on our Heavenly Father for his protection and provision from incarnation - to crucifixion - to resurrection, and in every moment in between. Jesus came naked from the womb and died naked on a cross. He humbled Himself at birth and was humiliated in death. He poured out His life and suffered all of the indignities so we might have more and better life – better than we ever dreamed of.

So it is at Christmas that we ponder this great free gift of a poured out life in Christ. With blessed eyes we see the babe who would become a man acquainted with deepest sorrows, and if we listen closely with blessed ears this Christmas season, we will hear an invitation from Jesus to live the life He lived.

Jesus prayed to the Father:

I’m not asking you to take them out of the world, but to keep them safe from the evil one. They do not belong to this world any more than I do. Make them holy by your truth; teach them your word, which is truth. Just as you sent me into the world, I am sending them into the world. (John 17:15-18, emphasis mine)

It is a prayer that we live dependent - moment by moment - upon our Heavenly Father for our protection and provision. It is a prayer that we live ALL IN, trusting God just as Jesus did.

I am reminded that when Christ invited me to follow Him, it was an invitation to be “born” into a life that is dependent on God from beginning to end and all points in between. It is a life that starts with baby steps and leads all the way to glory. It is a life empowered by God’s Holy Spirit. Jesus has invited you into that very life too.

Merry Christmas and Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Someone You Should Know

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 15:53:00 +0000

This is the time of year when many media outlets and publications compile a list of celebrity memorials. It is an annual reminder of the who’s who that died in the previous twelve months. The lists are often crowded with persons of fame, fortune, or outrageous behavior. It is a list that I find oddly juxtaposed against the celebration of Christ’s birth - an event of incomprehensible humility. It is in that spirit of humility that I want to tell you about the passing of a friend – a dear friend who would never have made such a list.

Much of Alice Marler’s story was well behind her when I first met her about ten years ago, so I do not profess to know all about her life. That is a privilege left to her husband, children, and in-laws. There are, however, some details that I am uniquely qualified to share with you, and share I will.

God introduced Alice into my story at the tail end of a dark spiritual season in my life. I had not been to church in three years, yet there I was standing outside her Sunday school room dropping off my two youngest children. By “dropping off,” I mean I peeled them off of their mother’s legs, pushed them through the door, and quickly shut the door behind them. Later when the service was over, my two children did not want to leave! I remember Alice laughing and saying, “I love your kids. Oh, and I love you too.” She meant it, and much to my surprise I believed her. It felt safe to be in church. I looked forward to seeing her on Sundays because I could see in her eyes that she was genuinely glad to see my family and I. We weren’t some God-project to her. We were real people, and she had an authentic affection for us. It was an unconditional affection that I hadn’t felt in a church setting in a long, long time! God, through Alice, made it clear that First Church was to be our church home in that new season of our lives.

I am reminded of Alice when I read the following scripture:

Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good. Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight with each other. (Romans 12:9-10, emphasis mine)

Over the years I watched Alice delight in a whole host of people, even as her health failed. I saw her hold tightly to what is good. Even as she lay in a hospital bed, unable to communicate with her family and friends, I am convinced (because God told me) that she was praying for her family, friends, and the church.

It is a daunting task to write a resume, an even more difficult task to write a tribute. There is much about Alice that I would like you to know, and fitting words and descriptions are lacking. I want people to know that this side of eternity is poorer because she was called home, and not because she was famous, wealthy, or behaved outrageously – she wasn’t and didn’t. I want you to know about her because she was a person who loved well; Alice Marler loved with the love of Christ.

That kind of love made my family and me different. That kind of love will make you different too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

A Hard Right Turn

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 16:16:00 +0000

“Anyone with ears to hear should listen and understand. Then He added, “Pay close attention to what you hear. The closer you listen, the more understanding you will be given – and you will receive even more. To those who listen to my teaching, more understanding will be given. But for those who are not listening, even what little understanding they have will be taken away from them.” (Mark 4:23-25)

Jesus’ instruction to his disciples to pay attention reminds me of an episode I had with my dog several years ago. Our newly adopted dog loved going for walks in the woods with my wife and I. The trails we frequented were very private, so we let the dog accompany us without a leash. At first our Border Collie, named Madison, would stay near us; but not long into each walk she would race well ahead of us - well beyond eyesight and earshot. The woods were large with many winding and intersecting trails. Her unfamiliarity with it all could have gotten her hopelessly lost or hurt. A nice quiet stroll through the woods was often interrupted with my shouts and whistles for the dog to come back. More often than not, I would find her before she would find me. We wanted the dog to enjoy the great outdoors, but her pattern of running ahead and getting lost needed to be broken.

I spoke with the dog trainer who had previously been very helpful in explaining the nuances of the breed to me. He explained that Border Collies work off of both visual and voice commands, and that I needed to work on getting and keeping the dog’s attention by using both. He suggested that before the dog dashed off out of eyesight and earshot, that I should abruptly change direction and announce in a normal volume and tone what direction I would be walking. He assured me that after practicing this method the dog’s range would tighten and her attentiveness would increase.

The first few times I tried this, it had become obvious that the dog was assuming where I would be headed based on what seemed to be a pattern of mine. I would walk out to the usual starting trail and then to the next, and so on, just like I had done many times before. My walk was predictable – dog predictable. The dog had become attentive to my pattern rather than being attentive to my hand and voice commands. In time, the method of abruptly changing directions in combination with the voice commands began to pay off. The dog started to stay in close proximity and began to look more frequently for commands from me. We both enjoyed the walks much more.

In those times that I was actively working on changing my dog’s inattentiveness, I began recognizing that I had behaved in a similar way with God. I noticed there were some seasons in my life where I had made assumptions about where God was headed based on where I had been with Him previously. I had not been paying close attention to Him; I had not been paying any attention to Him at all. I had been doing God-work, only God didn’t direct me to do any of it. I assumed that was what He wanted me to do; but in my “walk” with God, He abruptly changed directions.

God took what seemed to be a hard right turn, and as a result it became obvious to me that I had not been paying close attention to Him. Those were dark, pain-filled, and confusing seasons, but out of them I began to see He wanted me to pay attention - close attention - to Him. I was not supposed to extrapolate a pattern based on where He and I had been, and I was certainly not to head out on my own based on where I assumed we might be headed. It is a bad pattern that God is breaking in my life. He wants to have enjoyable walks with me. He wants to have enjoyable walks with you too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Wash, Rinse, and Repeat

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 11:57:00 +0000

I recently watched a video of a random group of people answering the question, “What do you think of church?” There was one person in particular that made what might be a lasting impression on me. He was a tattoo artist who didn’t hold back in regard to his thoughts on church. In fact, he was blunt enough that parts of his answer were censored with the familiar “bleep.” He made the charge that church is all about brainwashing, and he wanted to make it absolutely clear (and he did) that he wanted nothing to do with church. It seemed that as soon as the word “brainwashing” passed his lips, his angry tone erupted into a seething hate. He became agitated and his body tensed up - he was spittin’ mad. His interview was over. He answered the question.

It was apparent that brainwashing was a very bad thing by his standards. If by popular understanding it means having your mind taken over and becoming a mind-less robot, then who wouldn’t push back or even become indignant about such a crime? A mind is supposed to be free; isn’t that an inalienable right?

I was reminded of a children’s story about a young boy whose mind is filled with hate, anger and prejudice by the adults in his life. The simple line drawings accompanying the text depicted an innocent face being contorted under the great weight of all the garbage that was poured and packed into his head. Over time, the child’s smile was transformed into a permanent expression of anger and pain, similar to the one I witnessed on the tattoo artist’s face. By popular understanding the little boy and the artist were more than likely victims of “brainwashing.” I find it odd that our culture uses such a term for an act of defilement and polluting. Why don’t we just get honest and call it “braindirtied” or “brainstaining?”

I was also reminded of the following scripture:

For husbands, this means love your wives just as Christ loves the church. He gave his life for her to make her holy and clean, washed by the cleansing of God’s word. He did this to present her to himself as a glorious church without a spot or wrinkle or any other blemish. Instead, she will be holy and without fault. (Ephesians 5:25-27, emphasis mine)

So, the tattoo artist was unwittingly correct. Jesus is washing us – brain and mind included. But instead of making us mindless, non-thinking automatons, He is making us new persons and changing the way we think by removing the accumulation of filth, dirt, and stains that has built up in our minds by way of our sins, choices, and circumstances.

Don’t copy the behaviors and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect. (Romans 12:2)

If this is God’s idea of brainwashing, then all I have to say is, “Wash, rinse and repeat.” I think you’ll say the same thing too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Afraid of the Dark

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 16:52:00 +0000

Your word is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path. (Psalm 119:105)

As a young boy, I was afraid of the dark so I avoided dark places. Problem solved! Not really. My train set and my dad’s workshop were in the windowless basement of my grandmother’s place of business. If I wanted to run the old “Lionel” or build something with the shop tools, I would brave the steep steps to the basement and systematically turn on every light – even in the out-of-sight spaces. As long as every light was on, I could relax. When I finished doing whatever it was that inspired me to go to the “dungeon” in the first place, a different routine would ensue. I would run with Olympian speed through the maze of dank and musty spaces, in an equally methodical way, flicking switches and pulling chains that turned the lights off. With a racing heart and labored breathing, I would hurtle myself up the stairs, hit the last switch and slam the basement door behind me.

The basement door led straight into the midst of my grandmother’s tavern, so on many occasions, a young frenzied boy (me) would “pop” out of the dark into the light. On nearly as many occasions, my grandmother’s customers would sneer, snicker, and ask in a shaming tone, “Why are you so afraid of the dark?” Answering their question in my thoughts, the most obvious answer was, “There’s scary and ugly stuff in the dark. I could get hurt in the dark!”

My fear of the dark diminished as I grew older, and verses such as the one above gave me comfort. A lamp for my feet and a light for my path would make navigating in a spiritually dark world much safer. Problem solved! Not really. God did something I didn’t expect. God’s lamp exposed another spiritually dark place.

You light a lamp for me. The Lord, my God, lights up my darkness. (Psalm 18:28, emphasis mine)

God’s lamp was no longer just aimed at the darkness that was around my feet; it was trained straight at the darkness within me – the darkness in my heart.

The Lord’s light penetrates the human spirit, exposing every hidden motive. (Proverbs 20:27)

God revealed that as I grew older, my fear of the dark hadn’t just diminished; I had actually started to embrace and look for relief in the dark. Knowing He was right, another unexpected thing was revealed. I was afraid to look at my own heart. I was afraid to look at how ugly and damaged my heart had become.

The boy who was afraid of the dark had become an adult who was afraid of the light. I was afraid that God would snicker and sneer at me, and in my thoughts, I wanted Him to turn off the light. Then (not to imply that it happened quickly, because it did not) I began to see God’s heart in the light as well. There was no condemnation in God’s heart - just love and concern. Because of His love, it was safe to look at my sick heart.

I aroused you under the apple tree, where your mother gave you birth, where in great pain she delivered you. Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal over your arm. For love is as strong as death, its jealousy as enduring as the grave. Love flashes like fire, the brightest kind of flame. (Song of Songs 8:5b-6, emphasis mine)

Our Heavenly Father’s brightest light and love are indistinguishable. It is not His light that I need to fear; that is where I will be made well. In His light, I see safety and healing. I do not see any sneering or snickering. God has been teaching me that I need to fear the spiritual darkness, similar to the way I was afraid of the dark as a young boy.

There is scary and ugly stuff in the dark. Without fail, I will get hurt there. You’ll get hurt there too.

Grace to you.

David Paukner

Deny-Deny-Deny

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 11:11:00 +0000

Peter said, “Lord, I am ready to go to prison with you, and even die with you.” But Jesus said, “Peter, let me tell you something. The rooster will not crow tomorrow morning until you have denied three times that you even know me.” (Luke 22:33-34)

Not long after Jesus spoke those words, Peter denied knowing Jesus three times - and in near rapid-fire fashion, I might add. (Read Luke 22:54-62) How in the world could Peter have denied knowing Jesus - not just once, but three times!? After all, Peter saw Jesus perform miraculous healings time and again. He watched Him multiply fishes and loaves, calm stormy seas, and raise Lazarus from the dead. Peter declared Jesus to be the Messiah, the Son of the Living God, and later saw Him transfigured!

If you are like me, you have probably shaken your head in bewilderment and wondered how Peter, after being so sincere in his zeal to follow Jesus, could deny Him. The following dialogue is a synopsis of promptings and conversations I have had with God over the past several months, along with my thoughts on a passage of Scripture - Matthew 7:1-5:

Dave: God, what was the deal with Peter?

God: Peter had a speck in his eye.

Dave: A speck?

God: Yes a speck, and it caused a great deal of pain for both he and I. Do I need to remind you of how much pain a speck in the eye can cause?

Dave: No.

God: No? Is it because the plank in your eye is a constant reminder of that pain?

Dave: The plank in my eye?

God: Yeah, the plank that you have carefully hewn much of your life. You can call it a plank, a beam, or a log; in this instance I call it cynicism.

Dave: I thought we were talking about Peter.

God: Not anymore! Dave, I’m talking about you now. So pay attention. The cynical nature you have crafted over the years as a means to insulate yourself from being hurt by people spilled over into our relationship a long time ago. I find that I need to remind you that cynicism is denying the sincerity of someone’s motives or actions. You have done that with Me.

Dave: I have?

God: Remember when I told you that I take care of you?

Dave: Of course, I do. I even tell people about it.

God: Over the years, your picture and definition of being taken care of has never lined up with mine. You never questioned that you heard the promise; but you have denied my actions in and over your life as taking care of you, and you have questioned my sincerity. What about the time I needed to prompt you to pray for a miracle in your life because you didn’t believe I would perform one? You were willing to settle for far less and denied my sincere promise of wanting to bless you. Or more recently, you questioned my desire to do a supernatural specific healing in your life. What were you thinking when you heard what I was planning to do?

Dave: I thought it was theatrical and overly dramatic.

God: Again you denied the sincerity of my motives.

Dave: I guess I have denied You three times too.

God: Three times? Since I do not lie, I won’t say that I’ve lost count, because I haven’t. Let me just say that it has been many, many, many times that the “plank” of cynicism has led you to deny me. It has caused you and I a great deal of pain. I want you to let go of cynicism and believe my words, motives, and actions. I desire to teach you that honesty, truthfulness, and genuineness are the order of the day in the Kingdom, and cynicism has no place in your life.

Dave: I’m really sorry for being cynical, especially with You.

God: I know. Sometime soon, you and I are going to talk about your skepticism and sarcasm.

Dave: I sincerely believe You.

Friends, I hope you sincerely believe Him too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Beloved

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Wed, 22 Oct 2008 15:57:00 +0000

After his baptism, Jesus came up out of the water, the heavens were opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and settling on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my dearly loved Son, who brings me great joy.” (Matthew 3:16-17)

As I read those verses recently, I thought about how awesome it would have been to be present in that moment. Wouldn’t it have been cool to hear the voice of God as He introduced His beloved son Jesus to the world? At some point in between the wondering and questioning, the still small voice of God spoke and said, “This is how I see you now. This is how I see all my children now.”

Out of that revelation I have processed the concrete truth, not just the abstract idea, that I bring great joy to the Creator of the universe. The very same One who brings everything into existence out of nothing, through His voice and Word, has called me a dearly loved (beloved) child of His. My spirit has moved from believing I heard those words to believing the words I heard, and more importantly, believing the Father who spoke those words.

I also believe that the accuser will come to me and attempt to plant doubts. That’s what the evil one does. His oldest questions, first asked in the Garden of Eden, will be pulled out of his bag of crud. Maybe they will get dusted off, maybe not; but the questions will come none-the-less, and they are these:

Did God really say that? Do you believe Him? (my paraphrase from Genesis 3:1-4)

To which, in the power of the Holy Spirit, I will reply, “Yes! I am dearly loved of God and I bring him great joy. I do not always understand how I bring Him joy or why He loves me, but He most certainly said it and I believe God! That settles it for me. Now get out of here, Satan!”

Beloved, that is how God now sees those who are in Christ, and that is how our joy-filled Father introduces His children to the world. That makes me smile. I hope you’re smiling too.

Grace to you.

David Paukner

A Good Gift

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Wed, 15 Oct 2008 15:44:00 +0000

But now you must be holy in everything you do, just as God who chose you is holy. For the scriptures say, “You must be holy, because I am holy.” (1 Peter 1:15-16)

I have wrestled with these verses for years because I had the misunderstanding that God had the expectation that it was within my ability to be holy. Whether I read the verse or I heard it being read aloud, I placed an emphasis on the “YOU MUST” part. I was disheartened about it all since I knew that I couldn’t be holy. No matter how badly I wanted to be or hard I willed it to be, being holy was impossible for me. Being holy was as improbable for me as it was for me to keep God’s law perfectly. I failed before I even got started. Part of me was fine with that because I didn’t want to be a “holy roller” anyway, and people who are “holier than thou” aren’t very attractive either. So I just resigned myself to living in God’s grace, and that would be enough for me. The amazing thing was that it wasn’t acceptable to God that I would settle for less than what He desired for the both of us.

God spoke to me and said, “Just because I said you must, doesn’t mean that you can.” God continued saying, “I am holy. In fact, I am Holy, Holy, Holy, and I want you to know that my desire is to be with you always. In order for that to happen, you too, must be holy. I know, as you know, that you can’t be holy of your own accord. That’s one of the many reasons why I gave you the gift of my Holy Spirit. The gift of holiness (made possible through Christ’s sacrifice) was not meant for you to seem or to act superior to others. Its only purpose is so that you and I can be together in everything you do. It is so you and I can be one. I love you that much!”

Holiness - just like salvation, grace, and faith - is a good gift from our Heavenly Father. It is a good gift meant to be accepted, opened, and enjoyed. I had never thought of it that way before. I’m glad God cleared that up for me. I hope He has cleared that up for you too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Skunks, Ticks, and Crabgrass

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 15:46:00 +0000

Skunks are the new raccoons. It used to be that every road in the county was littered with what used to be a raccoon in one form or another. Lately though, the local highways and by-ways have been decorated with skunks, or more accurately, what used to be a skunk. This past summer the evening air was giving hints that the skunk population was growing, but I had hoped my nose was sending false alarms. I hadn’t seen a skunk in the wild for about six years, but their increased presence became undeniable after noticing the striped lane markings were more than just white paint. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but a skunk/vehicle collision sets off a chemical chain reaction that turns the normally bad scent of a skunk into a weapon of mass di-stink-tion. The resultant carnage is so offensive that even the bottom-feeders wait weeks before going to dine and dash. That’s gross!

And speaking of gross, let’s consider the tick - wood or deer - you take your pick. Both were more abundant this past year than in all my previous years here combined. I thought the cold evenings we’ve recently been experiencing would be the end of them, but I was wrong. Just yesterday while petting the dog, my hand brushed over several large raisins stuck in her fur – only they weren’t raisins. They were a couple of ticks two sips away from bursting. That’s nasty! If you’re still reading and wondering what I did after my discovery, I reminded the kids they needed to brush the dog, waited for the groans of disgust, and then went to pull crabgrass out of the lawn.

Crabgrass is an ugly and destructive weed that spreads out from a very small root structure, robbing the adjacent grass of light and water. I wound up pulling and popping out the crabgrass by hand, because the name-brand crabgrass killer I applied to the lawn (twice) had acted more as a fertilizer. The resultant crop of weeds threatened to undo most of the lawn I had just planted this past spring.

After several wheelbarrows of weeds had been pulled, I started to wonder if crabgrass was skunk food, or if there was any link between the weeds and the ticks, or the ticks and the skunks. I wondered what was going on that there were so many skunks, ticks, and weeds this year. Were there really more than usual, or was I just noticing them more because I had somehow become fixated on them? It was a little bit of both.

There is no doubt that there were more noxious pests and weeds this year than in years past, and the more I set my sights on them, the more they seemed to increase. My visual acuity for spying skunks, ticks, and crabgrass grew by the day. I could spot a tick on a skunk eating crabgrass two hundred yards away. It was as if they and their ilk were everywhere and would soon overrun the world. That’s a wee bit dramatic, I know; but the point is that amidst the beauty of dancing trees, alongside the splendor-filled fields, and beneath the glory of the rising and setting sun, ugliness is seen as well. Seeing the contrast between beauty and ugliness with our natural eyes is often startling and unpleasant, but the contrast between the two is even more startling when it involves God-blessed vision.

One might think that God-blessed eyes only see the good, sacred, and holy; but when God gives spiritual sight to His children, we still see everything. If we think that God-blessed vision involves “rose-colored” corrective lenses, we will be startled, frightened, and even confused by what we see. Eyes that really see do not just see the majesty of God. They also see the raw, unadulterated, and ugly nature of our enemy and ourselves. When God blesses our eyes, He removes the “blinders” and “filters” that are on them, and we not only begin to see with clarity and high definition – we begin to see much more of reality than was previously possible. We begin to see the world through the eyes of God. We start to see beauty as He sees beauty, and we start to see ugliness as He sees it. We increasingly see the contrast between our heavenly Father and the evil one, and yes, between our heavenly Father and ourselves.

Given that God does not prevent us from seeing true evil and ugliness, it is important to know that He doesn’t require or want us to dwell on it. Instead, God calls us to fix our new eyes on Christ and things that are in heaven.

And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. (Phil. 4:8)

Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven, where Christ sits in the place of honor at God’s right hand. Think about things of heaven, not the things of earth. (Col. 3:1-2)

So now when I see ugly or evil through my God-blessed eyes, I just take it for what it is – ugly, really ugly. It offends me, frightens me, and angers me, yet at the same time I’m learning that God has many purposes in letting me see ugly and evil. More importantly, I’m learning to not fixate on it but to focus on Him instead. When I focus on God, I learn that He sees it as well, skunks, ticks, crabgrass, and all; and He has it under control. I hope you learn that from Him too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 12:02:00 +0000

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. (Genesis 1:1)

These were the words that were on my mind as I leaned back in my chair yesterday evening and gazed at an abundance of stars in the sky. The same words were on my mind as I drove my son to school this morning. We both admired a stunning sunrise. An orange glow hovered just above the tree tops as the fog was burning off the fields. And then on my way back from the mailbox later in the morning, the same words filled my thoughts as I watched the forest dance with the autumn breeze. Stirred by the beauty of it all, I told God I was impressed and filled with awe and wonder.

His Spirit directed my thoughts to the following verses in the Book of Job:

God stretches the northern sky over empty space and hangs the earth on nothing. He wraps the rain in His thick clouds, and the clouds don’t burst with the weight. He covers the face of the moon, shrouding it with clouds. He created the horizon when He separated the waters; He set the boundary between day and night. The foundations of heaven tremble; they shudder at His rebuke. By His power the sea grew calm. By His skill He crushed the great sea monster. His Spirit made the heavens beautiful, and His power pierced the gliding serpent. These are just the beginning of all that He does, merely a whisper of His power. Who, then, can comprehend the thunder of His power? (Job 26:7-14)

After reading those verses, it was as if God had just told me, “Dave, thanks, but you ain’t seen nothin’ yet!” Friends, He just told you that too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Ethnic Food

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 17:46:00 +0000

In our “world market” society, we are no longer bound to eat what we can grow locally. We can eat a wide variety of different foods and dishes from cultures and regions all over the world. Not far from the doors of our homes are markets and restaurants selling and serving ingredients and meals from a variety of different cultures. Are you hungry for Italian food? How about African, Mexican or Greek food? What about Asian and all of its sub-groups – Chinese, Japanese, Korean, etc.? Let’s not leave out European and Middle-eastern foods; they’re tasty and readily available also.

No matter which people-group or subgroup you choose, every culture has some staple food and spice combination that is unique and identifying to itself. The basic food or foods around which all the local recipes evolved were those foods that were readily produced or commonly found in abundance where each group of people established their original communities. If a group of people lived by the sea, fish was a large part of their diet; likewise, if a community “put down roots” in a region where the climate and soil were conducive to agriculture, then breads and noodles became a central part of their meals. Depending on the fertility of the region, various local oils, and spices were combined with the regional staples creating the distinct flavors and recipes we now commonly label as “foreign” or ethnic food.

Did you know that there is also a distinct and flavorful food found in the Kingdom of God? Jesus talked about it as He taught His disciples about prayer (Luke 11:1-13). In what is commonly known as the Lord’s prayer, Jesus told us to ask our heavenly Father for the food we need each day, or as it is more traditionally translated, to ask for our daily bread. Normally this is taken to mean physical food, which our heavenly Father does provide. Thank you, Lord! However, Jesus pointed to a greater need and provision for the disciples (us) in His teaching. In verses eleven through thirteen, Jesus compares food given to children by earthly fathers, with the Holy Spirit given to us by our heavenly Father. The inference is that the Holy Spirit is food; it is the food we need - our daily bread! The Holy Spirit is the sustenance, the food, and the fuel in the Kingdom of God. The Holy Spirit fills the body of believers with a banquet of distinct and unique flavors.

In the “world market,” the Christian community has true “foreign” food. God has made it so that the different people-groups no longer need to feed upon their worldly grown food alone. Through Christ, our heavenly Father’s unique and wonderful Kingdom meal is available to everyone, but before I can go “selling and serving” His supernatural ethnic food to the nations, I need to first ask for it myself and fill up on it daily. I find that really savory. I hope you do too.

Bon Appetit and Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Partial Credit

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 15:39:00 +0000

Goose eggs are fine if you are whipping up an omelet, but they are not a welcome sight on an engineering exam. The large zero written next to an answer on my exam was quite startling to me, since I had been confident that I had aced that test. Pouring over that particular question once again, I could not find any reason for the low mark. The methodology I had used to arrive at the answer was correct, so I decided to make an appointment with the professor in order to discuss his grading.

The professor was meticulous, fastidious, and very intimidating; and as I waited to be called into his office, none of that mattered. I was sure he had made an honest mistake during the wee hours of the morning while grading the exams, and he would no doubt make the necessary corrections as soon as he had the chance to see my paper again. For some reason I had expected his demeanor to be more affable in person, but I was wrong. He was even gruffer in his professorial cubicle than in front of the class. He knew the reason for my visit, and he did not appreciate the notion that I thought he had made a mistake.

He motioned to me to begin my argument for a higher score. So using a new number two pencil as a pointer (I dared not use my index finger), I proceeded to show him, step by step, that my method and logic for solving the problem were flawless. As the tip of my pencil rested on the answer, I felt that I had just hit a home run. I looked up so I could bask in the glory of watching his head nod in the affirmative. Instead, I saw his eyes roll back, and his head move from side to side with ever-increasing speed and force. His body language was accompanied by the following words, “You started your answer with the wrong data!” My heart sank, my mouth dried, and my eyes became affixed to the first step in my solution. He was right! I had used the wrong value from a book of a million numbers to begin solving the problem. My method and logic were correct, but the answer was based on incorrect data and thus it was wrong!

I began to argue for partial credit, since everything but the beginning and the end of the problem was correct. Mid-way through my dry mouthed pleading, he cut me off. Sternly he said, “An error like this could hurt or kill someone. If you would like to continue arguing, I’ll start deducting points from the other problems on the test.” While pointing toward the door with his index finger, he continued saying, “I suggest you leave while you are ahead.” I mumbled a thank you and left his office with no additional points, but with this invaluable lesson:

Logic and flawless methodology in the absence of correct data is dangerous.

I have recently read some articles focused on thinking, logic, methodology, and intellectual tradition in the church. They presented the idea that the church has been neglectful, timid, or even hostile toward critical thinking and intellect. In one book review a person is quoted as saying, “The church is perishing today through the lack of thinking, not through an excess of it.” I suspect that if the authors of those certain articles would make an appointment with God to discuss the matter in greater detail, they might have an experience similar to the one I had with my engineering professor.

After laying out their argument for the importance of critical thinking, intellectual tradition, and the role these play in the church, God would tell them that He himself enjoys and values critical thinking, logic, flawless methodology, and intellectual tradition as much as they do, especially since He is the source of it. He would remind them that regardless of the intelligence of their words, no matter how clever their arguments and lofty their thoughts might be, not starting in the proper place would lead them further into dangerous territory. God would then point His finger, not at the exit door, but toward Jesus. He would tell them that unless the starting point is in Jesus, they have started with the wrong value, only to end with a wrong answer – an error like that could hurt or even kill someone’s soul! They would not get partial credit, but hopefully they would have learned the following lesson:

Critical thinking, logic, methodology, and intellectual tradition in the absence of the TRUTH are dangerous!

Jesus is the way, the truth and the life (John14: 6). The fear of the Lord is the foundation of true knowledge (Proverbs 1:7). Jesus initiates and perfects our faith. (Hebrews 12:2). Jesus is the first and the last. (Revelation 1:17).

The correct solution begins and ends with Jesus, and the results are guaranteed by God. Knowing this, I don’t have to be concerned with partial credit. I hope you know that too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Withered

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 13:33:00 +0000

My long driveway is proving to be quite an interesting and unexpected classroom. I have started noticing that the subtle progression of summer to fall has begun. Yes, it’s that time of the year here in the woods, when deep shades of green begin to give way to varying hues of orange, red, yellow, gold, and brown. The leaves that proudly held their places in the trees all summer long are now being coaxed from their perches by cooler and cooler evenings. There is no sadness in any of this. On the contrary, there is a muffled exuberance in the forest which, in only a matter of a month, will burst all day long with colors that are generally reserved for sunrise and sunset. It is an art exhibit, painted by God each and every year. I am enjoying my front row seat.

As the woods give up their summer garment, all sorts of critters are exposed. I can hear and even see some of them now as they are busy foraging for the upcoming winter. As much as I enjoy summer and fall, I do look forward to winter’s arrival; I enjoy its uniqueness and purpose in God’s ever-inventive and surprising cycle of seasons. In God’s time the winter will yield to spring, a time of new life and color. Spring will be then be pushed aside by summer, and just at the right time the branches of the forest will once again be used in the Creator’s autumnal pageant. Sort of.

As it turns out, not all of the branches will be back for next year’s display.

About three weeks ago, I started pruning back some of the trees and bushes that grow along the driveway. What I thought would be a day’s work became several days work. I pruned and then cleared as I went. On my way back up to the house one day, I pruned several branches from some bush that produces inedible berries. Instead of clearing what I pruned, I just left it there with the intention of piling it up with the rest of the clippings later.

The following day on my walk to get the mail, I noticed the “berry” branches I had pruned. They lay near the bush they had once been attached to; they were still full of color and berries. Intrigued by this, I decided to see how long they would look fresh. Day after day those clippings remained healthy looking with dark green leaves and bright red berries, almost as if they never needed the bush they were a part of in the first place. Two weeks later though, I noticed that the leaves began to wilt ever so slightly. A week after that, the branches had looked like what I had expected to see originally; I finally saw dried leaves, twigs, and shriveled berries testifying to the reality of being separated from their source of life. They were withered and lifeless. Whatever willpower, momentum, or sheer determination they contained, it was not enough. It was only a matter of a few weeks before the consequences of their separation became visibly evident. The truth is, even though they had the appearance that they were healthy apart from the main branches, they began to starve as soon as they were removed from the bush. For them, death was an unpleasant inevitability. They will not be back for next year’s parade of colors. Instead, they will be burned some time this winter.

My observation of those branches along the driveway parallels a truth in my life. Jesus speaks of this truth plainly in the 15th chapter of the Gospel of John. He is the true vine and source of real life, and I am one of the branches. I must stay connected to Him. Apart from Him, I might have the appearance of being normal, vibrant and full of life, but I would be starving to death, both physically and spiritually. My willpower, my momentum, or my own sheer determination would sustain me only briefly. In human time, I might last years or even decades. In relation to eternity, it would be frighteningly fleeting. Not only that, my so called “life” would be one moment after another gasping for air, water, and purpose. I would have no hope.

The reality is, apart from Jesus, I can do nothing; and in the end I would wind up just like those branches along my driveway. I might look good for awhile, but in no time at all I would become withered and die. You would too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Father Knows Best

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 16:33:00 +0000

Several years ago at a church I used to attend, I was privileged to have been asked to offer a corporate prayer in the Sunday services. Leading up to that weekend, I spent the better part of my days with God, seeking what He wanted me to pray. Following church that day, a prominent ministry leader made a point of finding me to tell me, “Your prayer was too short! The pastor should have asked my dad to pray. My dad knows how to pray.” My reply to her was even more compact than the prayer. I asked her, “Did you hear what I prayed?” Her lips said, “Yes,” but her body language gave away that she thought it was a bad prayer.

Looking back on that experience, I realize that I had, in fact, asked my Dad for the words to pray, and my Dad (Abba, Father) knows how to pray! That morning I didn’t speak pompous religious words and phrases at great length; I spoke the words God gave me for that appointed time. They were His power filled words. It was a prayer for God to cause us to lay our burdens down at His feet as an act of worship, and not as an act of desperation. God was not only faithful to give the words of prayer; He was also faithful to answer the prayer – lives were changed.

I asked God to give me words to speak today, and these are the words He gave me:

Speak Lord, I’m listening. Take me beyond just recognizing your voice God, and give me the ability to truly listen to your words.

This prayer is a short one also, and if they were my words it would probably be a bad prayer. However, these are the words God gave me to share. I’m expecting them to change my life. I’m expecting them to change your life too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Whose Love is it Anyway?

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 16:15:00 +0000

At a recent parade, I was informed that it was cool to be a Christian. A float that approached had a large banner from front to back that declared, “ IT’S COOL TO BE A CHRISTIAN.” That struck me as odd because as long as I’ve been a Christian, I have never thought of my walk with God as being cool – counter-cultural, maybe – but never cool. Some people walking alongside the float carried posters with the word “COOL” on them. Even with the slight breeze I felt as I sat in the shade on a hot summer afternoon, I still didn’t feel cool. Then I noticed that the hand-held posters had more writing revealing “COOL” as an acronym for – Carrying Out Our Love. Can I be honest with you? It turned me off, and I didn’t find any of them cool. I was Cringing Over Others Love.

I really had to ask myself why other Christian brothers and sisters declaring their love for others would make me cringe? After all, isn’t that one of the most important commandments? Aren’t we supposed to love our neighbors? The answer is yes; we are not only supposed to love the Lord our God with all of our heart, with all of our soul, and with all our mind, but we are supposed to love our neighbors as ourselves also. So I had to ask myself, “Isn’t that what they were doing? Weren’t they just loving others? What was my problem?”

My problem is that their love, our love, and my love is human, and human love - if we can even call it love - is born in the human heart. God tells us plainly and without reservation that the human heart is the most deceitful of all things and desperately wicked. It is so bad that only God can really understand the depths of its deception (Jeremiah 17:9-10). Love birthed in the human heart is naturally self-centered. It is a covering for fear and pride; its goal is self-aggrandizement, self-preservation, and self-appeasement.

Natural love, which is:
their love,
our love,
and my love,
is wholly and utterly incapable of loving others.

If not natural love, then what kind of love is God talking about when He commands us to love others? Jesus explained it to His disciples at the Last Supper. In the upper room He gave them, as well as us, a new commandment. He said, “Love each other.” (What? That doesn’t sound new at all, does it?) However, He then went much further and said, “Just as I have loved you, you should love each other.” Jesus commands us to love each other with His love, not with our love. The love He is talking about is the love that is born in the Father’s heart, not ours. It will be proof that we are His disciples when we are carrying out His love (John 13: 34-35). The love that Christ modeled to us from the Father’s heart is perfect and without deception. It has no ulterior motive, and it is freely given so that it can be carried to others.

God’s supernatural and perfect love for others is a gift of the Holy Spirit (Col. 1:8). This reminds me that the love I have for others is a good gift from God, and that any love for others from my human heart is a deception. It is only with God’s love that I can love obediently. It is only His love that truly and unconditionally loves others. So before I pen any of my own “clever” acronyms about my Christian walk, regardless of how “good” my intentions might be, I need to ask myself, “Whose love is it anyway?” I hope you ask yourself beforehand too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Forty-five Candles

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 16:41:00 +0000

A mother holds a newborn close to her side and gazes at her child with awe, wonder, and thanksgiving. She is bonding with the child she had waited quite some time to hold. The moment is special because in her not-so-distant past she feared she could not have a child. All of those thoughts that haunted her are washed away, replaced with thoughts now directed toward her and her family’s future. Flooded with emotion, she prays. She thanks God for His generosity and faithfulness. Filled with the knowledge that her child will not be able to prevail under his own strength, she slowly lifts the child toward heaven and asks for God’s protection, and dedicates her son to the Lord that he would be used as God sees fit.

Though the scene described above has many similar details to the account of Hannah (1 Samuel 1 & 2), it is not. This story took place 45 years ago today in what was, at that time, a modern medical facility. Against the conventional wisdom of the era, the young mother was prompted to entrust her child first to God and then to the doctors. Soon after the mother prayed, her infant son was taken to a large nursery with many other children, and the new mom went to sleep with the assurance that God would be faithful to her prayer and protect her child.

Maybe by now you have figured out that I’m the child in the story, and that today I’m 45 years old. To some of you that seems ancient, and all I can say is, “Wait, your time will come.” If you happen to think that 45 is young from your perspective, all I can say is, “You are incredibly brilliant, wise, gifted, and above all else, honest!” Speaking of honesty, I know that a birthday cake with 45 lit candles looks more like a multiple alarm fire at a wax factory than like a dessert, but I’m looking forward to it because it’s fun. I’ve also been somewhat contemplative about this birthday. In many ways I’m surprised that I’ve been blessed with so many birthdays, considering some of the bad choices I’ve made over the years. But then I’m not surprised, because God has indeed been faithful to my mom’s prayer on my first day.

Lately, and especially today, God has reminded me of a passage from the Gospel of John involving Jesus and a breakfast at the seashore (John 21:1-14). There is a seemingly small detail in the story that stands out quite boldly to me today. Jesus is sitting by a fire of coals with fish and bread already laid on it when the disciples meet him at the shore after a night of fishing. It takes time for good coals to develop for a cooking fire – the implication is that Jesus has been there for some time preparing a meal and watching over the disciples. Though they reverted to their old life of commercial fishing (a bad choice), Jesus was there all along with the intent of feeding and taking care of those who were His. Even though the disciples were unaware of His presence while they fished unsuccessfully, He was aware of their presence and their hunger. Right now I am humbled by His faithfulness and overwhelmed at how little I comprehend His generosity; because not only was Jesus at the shore for those first disciples, He has also been at the figurative seashore of each of my bad choices, waiting for me to recognize Him and waiting to feed me, correct me, and use me.

Today, knowing that God stirred my mom to pray for me in my first hour, it is hard to miss that the prayer He placed in her heart was the best birthday gift I have ever received and the best gift she could ever give. So today, as I prepare to blow out forty-five candles, my wish and prayer is that you recognize Christ on whatever shore you find yourself. I pray that you eat the best meal you have ever had, with Jesus, at a fire that He lit long before you were born, and that He use you in His most extraordinary way. Even if today isn’t your birthday - Happy Birthday to you too!

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Be Still

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 12:18:00 +0000

This last week God was quiet in my life – not inactive or uninvolved – just quiet. I noticed the quiet after a friend encouraged me to continue listening to the still small voice of God. I’m glad for that encouragement, because at times I can misinterpret “quietness” for inactivity or disinterest. God is always at work holding all creation together, so I’m confessing that He used the quiet to once again speak the words Be still and know that I am God into my life. It is a simple message that, when obeyed, radically changes a person’s life.

I’m sensing today that God is actually calling all of us to be still and know that He is God. If you find yourself in the fire, be still. If it seems you are not doing much, or God is not using you, be still. If you sense that you are in His presence, yet you do not hear His voice, be still.

If you find that you have difficulty being still at times (just as I do), ask and God will provide you the strength you need to withstand the heat, the patience you need in your season of preparation, and the ability to hear Him in the quiet moments of your life. It is in the stillness that we are blessed with being refined, prepared for His service, and protected in His presence. Better yet, we are also blessed with knowing Him deeper and more intimately. God is so serious about this that He will give you an entire church to stand by your side as you are refined, He will place people in your life to help you live through and enjoy your season of preparation, and He will give you a friend to remind you to hear His still small voice too.

As always, Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Morning Coffee

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 10:19:00 +0000

I’m not much of a coffee drinker, though I do enjoy about a dozen cups per year. One of my earliest forays into the coffee world involved industrial strength coffee from a construction site breakfast wagon. After my first sip, I spent the rest of that morning discreetly pouring half of the cup of “mud” onto the ground. If memory serves me right, that spot became an instant parking lot. The reason I even had a cup of coffee that morning was because I was told that it was just part of the whole construction site routine. Everyone had to have a cup of morning coffee; you weren’t a man if you abstained. To this day, I strongly suspect there were only a few who liked the coffee, but rather most everyone, if not all, enjoyed the storytelling that accompanied the routine of breakfast wagon coffee.

This morning, I went to coffee and sat around a table with family and visited for an hour or so. I drank two of my twelve cups of coffee for the year, and heard some fun stories. As much as everyone jokes about the coffee, it was good, but again, it’s not really the coffee that brings everyone together – it’s not even the donuts and cookies. It’s the visiting that makes morning coffee fun. The stories shared over coffee give me a little more insight into the storyteller – I get to know them better. I find out more about what they like and what they don’t like; their stories and how they are told reveals details about what makes each person tick. I learn about what they value, or how their values might have changed over time, or even what might have changed those values. It seems that as long as the coffee is brewing, there are stories percolating, and both are poured liberally.

For a little over a year now, I have had virtual morning coffee with a whole host of people through the “Northwoods Musings” devotional and blog. I have enjoyed it very much, though lately I have found myself longing for something, and that something is your stories. Sharing your story might be difficult for you - just like drinking my first cup of construction site coffee was - but that coffee was much more than an early morning eye-opener. It was an invitation into a fellowship that greatly increased my knowledge of the people who worked in the construction trades. It was a knowledge that still serves me well today in my practice of architecture. Morning coffee opened up opportunities I never knew existed. Just as “coffee” opens up opportunities for sharing stories, stories open up opportunities to share our lives.

No one knows this better than God. He encourages believers to be ready to give reasons for our Christian hope (1 Peter 3:15b). The “reasons” we have are born in the stories that make up our lives. They are testimonies for those who are not walking with Christ, and they are encouragements to those already walking with Him. The apostle Paul was uplifted and filled with joy at the news of what God had been doing in the lives of the believers in the early church (Colossians 1:3-5). I have no doubt that God is active in each of your lives, and that He is conforming you into the image of Christ, so I’m extending an open invitation for you to share what God has been doing in your life. It’s a way for me to get to know you better - after all, we are family. So stop me if you see me, drop a note, send an email, or pick up a phone and call. Hearing about what God has been doing with you, and through you, will be good for me. It will be good for you too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Inside Out and Backwards

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 20:18:00 +0000

I spent the better part of last week working on one of my lower level bedrooms - it was my small version of “Extreme Home Makeover.” Water, leaking in through a foundation crack, had caused a fair amount of rot, requiring part of a wall to be re-built. The carpet padding also needed to be replaced after having gone through numerous wet-dry cycles. I knew before I started that the work was not going to be limited to just the wall and flooring. As long as I was going to have to paint the repaired wall, I might as well paint the ceiling; and if I was painting the ceiling, I should remove the ceiling speaker that has never worked, and so on and so on. I had all the material I needed except for the carpet padding, which I planned on buying later while the freshly painted ceiling dried. While prepping to paint, I turned my t-shirt inside out in case paint splattered on it. When the painting was done, I cleaned up the paint roller and I was off to the store.

In the carpeting department at the local “Lumber-rama,” an employee noticed me intently looking for something, so he approached and asked, “Can I help you?” I turned around and told him I was looking for carpet padding. He asked, “What thickness?” I hadn’t brought a sample piece, and at that moment my mind went blank and I couldn’t answer. As I stood there trying to figure out what thickness of padding I needed, I noticed that the guy helping me had a strange look on his face. I called home and asked my daughter to run out to the garage and measure the thickness of the old padding, then I small-talked with the carpet guy while we waited for her to relay the answer. She did well, and once I knew the thickness needed, two younger employees lowered the roll of goods from the tallest shelf in the store. I thanked them all and carted my padding through the store. I said hello to everyone I passed along the way, and finally a big thanks to the cashier who rang up my purchase.

I was grateful that my daughter was able to help, so when I got home I thanked her. But instead of her saying “You’re welcome,” she just gave me a funny look, and in an incredulous tone asked, “Did you go to the store looking like that?” I normally don’t wear a baseball cap, but this time I did. Was it the hat? Laughing, she said, “Not your hat - it’s your shirt! It’s inside out and backwards!” I looked down at the dark t-shirt I was wearing, and the white tag gleamed brilliantly under my chin – my shirt was indeed inside out and backwards. I had forgotten to switch it around when I went to the store! Now, all of the strange looks I had received as I greeted people made perfect sense. As I looked in a mirror, the white tag against the dark shirt reminded me of a cleric’s collar, but there are no cleric’s collars with printed washing and care instructions on them. It was just goofy. I couldn’t help but bust out laughing as well.

A week later, I’m still laughing, but I do wish I had been clued in about my shirt. Something that still sticks in my mind regarding my “fashion statement” is that no one I encountered said anything to me about it. I walked through a large store and passed dozens of people and no one said, “What’s with the shirt?” Is it because there’s a well accepted practice of not pointing things out to people, (especially weirdoes who wear their shirts inside out and backwards)? Or is it just that we’ve all become accustomed to non-traditional fashion statements - to each their own, right? Most probably it boiled down to a lack of familiarity; no doubt it would be uncomfortable for each of us to point out such fashion misdeeds to someone we didn’t know. In truth, all of the above come into play in a situation such as I had. Hopefully, if some one I knew had seen me, he would have gently and humbly told me my shirt was inside out and backwards.

God knows the truth of it better than any of us. Spiritually speaking, that’s why He directs us to look out for each other and for the truth. “Dear brothers and sisters, if another believer is overcome by sin, you who are godly should gently and humbly help that person back onto the right path. And be careful not to fall into the same temptation yourself.” (Gal. 6:1)

It is not God’s intention that we become “fashion” police, but it is His intention that we care and love each other enough that we would not ignore it if we notice a brother or sister in Christ walking off the path of obedience. He also tells us to be careful not to become accustomed to non-traditional “fashions,” making it difficult to know what the path of obedience actually looks like and walking off of it ourselves. So, if you see me walking around inside out and backwards, off the path of obedience, I hope you will gently and humbly tell me. God and I want you to do that. I hope you want that too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner

Costume Party

noreply@blogger.com (Marc Harter) — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 16:37:00 +0000

The kids’ aisle in a novelty shop from my childhood seemed to stretch out as far as the horizon, and its shelves seemed to touch the sky. The aisle was packed with box after box of the most marvelous costumes. The artwork on each box was so impressive and realistic that I was convinced that there were real cowboys, pirates, and astronauts in those boxes. Well not really, but more like the contents were going to transform me into an actual cowboy, pirate, or astronaut. It was terribly difficult deciding which person I wanted to be or which personality I wanted to portray. Picking out a Halloween costume was serious business. My costume would say a lot about me. After I would make my choice, I couldn’t wait to get home and pop the box open.

Each year I would snap the tape that held the top of the box and pull the top off, but instead of laughing with delight, I would let out a big sigh. The contents of the box never, and I mean never, lived up to the hype of the artwork on the box. Inside was a cheap plastic mask with an even cheaper and flimsier elastic band. The mask was paired with a large, thin plastic apron vaguely resembling the apparel of the character portrayed in the artwork. On Halloween, instead of riding through the neighborhood like a cowboy, or swashbuckling the asphalt sea like Blackbeard the Pirate, or floating weightlessly from house to house like Neil Armstrong, I fumbled, bumbled, and stumbled around wearing what looked like a giant lobster bib and a painted plastic mask.

Ironically, the mask designed to keep people from “seeing” me actually prevented me from seeing other people and most everything else. The mask had two very small peepholes for vision. They were so small they didn’t allow any peripheral vision at all, and whatever was straight ahead was just barely observable. Negotiating the sidewalk and crossing streets was incredibly dangerous. In addition to the peepholes, there was an equally small hole in the mask for breathing. The breathing hole was similarly obstructive. It was too small to allow an appropriate amount of fresh air in and way too small to let the exhausted air from my lungs escape. After breathing back in stale air and bumping into cars and lampposts, I would be forced to lift the mask so I could see and breathe. I held out as long as I could so my disguise wouldn’t be compromised. The joke was always on me. That mask and plastic apron in no way, shape, or form hid my identity from anyone. I wasn’t a cowboy, pirate, or astronaut to them. I was Dave in a silly lobster bib costume. After a few years of that, I learned why adults spent more on better, more elaborate costumes for their parties.

I thought back at how dangerous my kids costume was, but I’ve seen that adult costumes can be equally - if not more - dangerous. As each person approaches adulthood, they find themselves in an imaginary costume shop deciding who they want to be when they grow up. As a young adult, I tried on several different “costumes” and kept the ones that brought the most attention and success. I put on a persona that concealed the real me, and in the process (just like the kids costume) obstructed the real world. People could not see me, and I could not see them. Their reactions and praises for “costumed” Dave made me wonder if they would ever like the “real” Dave. I wondered if I liked the “real” Dave. I wouldn’t dare remove the mask. But the problem with leaving the mask on was the same as with the cheap plastic mask; it made it difficult to breathe. In a spiritual sense, I was filling my lungs with recycled stale air.

“You let the world, which doesn’t know the first thing about living, tell you how to live. You filled your lungs with polluted unbelief and then exhaled disobedience. We all did it, all of us doing what we felt like doing, when we felt like doing it, all of us in the same boat.” (Ephesians 2:2-3, The Message)

…all of us at the same costume party wearing a cheap mask that wouldn’t allow us to be seen, see, or breathe - doing what the “world” expected of us. The sad, funny part of it all is that though we couldn’t see each other, we were so totally exposed to God. We were just a bunch of kids bumbling, fumbling, and stumbling through life in lousy plastic aprons and masks, desperately in need of fresh air. He knew who we were, and we looked plain silly being everything but who He intended us to be. God is serious about us living out the lives He intends for us. He does not want us encouraging each other to put on costumes. Rather, He wants us to encourage each other to discover who He has made us to be.

“Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it.” (Proverbs 22:6)

It is an invitation to a party where people can be seen, see, and breathe fresh air. I’m invited, and you are too.

Grace to you.

Dave Paukner