Sermon on the Mount

 

I do not want to have a bad attitude about church, really I don’t.

Although I may not know exactly what it is that I am hoping to find within the four walls of a church; I do know what I am not looking to find.  

Since our move to Alaska two short months ago, the lens with which I view my own little world in regard to church and church people has changed.

Each week our family enters the doors of different churches in an attempt to feel whatever it is you are supposed to feel when you know that you belong somewhere; each week we leave without receiving as little as a “hello.”

In between Sunday’s, I have made it my ambition to hike a mountain at least twice each week.  What started out as simply a venue with my sister to be outdoors and achieve an incredible workout has turned out to be so much more.

My experiences on our challenging hikes continues to make me wonder if perhaps church is happening in an unexpected place such as a mountain.  It’s confusing for a lifetime church-going girl such as me to understand that the sermons I am receiving on the Mount are happening in spite of the fact that I do not look like a church-going girl ought to look.

How can it be that when I am at my most vulnerable, bent over with my hands on my legs whilst gasping for breath, a complete stranger is willing to speak to me?  There is no small talk, no pretense, and no concern for whether the other person may or may not like me.

I am muddy, sweaty, and loaded down with water bottles, protein bars, and bear spray.  

The conversations we have carried with different hikers met along the narrow trail of the mountain have varied from joking, to serious conversations, to warnings about what we have encountered along the trail that would be most beneficial to share with one another.  We don’t know each other, yet we care.  Chances are we will never see these individuals again during our hikes; yet our encounters remain rich and energizing.

Yesterday my sister commented that she is at peace on the mountain.  She didn’t need to explain what she meant, (not that she could have since we were both doubled over panting for oxygen), I fully understood.

There is no room for ego or false identity when standing as a tiny dot on a majestic mountain.  Respect for God and for His creation is not a necessary discussion but rather a given.   

Wanting to feel noticed or important is a silly notion from somewhere in the past.  God’s majesty and splendor are ever-present; each step is holy ground.  As you rise above the clouds to view life from a higher elevation, troubles lie somewhere at the bottom of the mountain, small and forgotten.

Each time we exit the mountain, we are refreshed and at peace regardless our personal circumstances. 

Matthew chapter five through chapter seven is Jesus’ longest sermon and it happens to be given up on a mountainside; the ever-famous “Sermon on the Mount.”  He speaks of us, His children, being salt and light.  He shares the beatitudes, speaks about murder, adultery, divorce, revenge, loving our enemies, giving to the needy.  He also teaches us how to pray, how to fast, how to not worry, how to not judge, and so much more.

Everything we need to know to live as Christ-followers is given to us on the Sermon on the Mount.  Maybe we need to learn how to take the sermon from the mountain and into the four walls of the church.  Just a thought.

I will remain ever hopeful that our family will find a church that fits who we are and what we represent.  

However,  in the meantime I will continue to grow and learn and love and be at peace somewhere on the trails on a mountain in Alaska.. 

Stay the Course...

Sheila Cote

Joppa

I have been zigzagging through the Bible today in an attempt to find a scripture that best describes what I am feeling.  It’s one of those times that I know my search will not leave me disappointed.

As it turns out, what I am searching for isn’t a scripture or a story—it is a place.

Today the gnawing I am feeling within resonates with a little town on the southwest coast of Palestine in the territory of Dan which became a primary port of Jerusalem during the reign of Solomon: Joppa.

As we study the history of a place, oftentimes the findings cause a place that we have never visited nor laid eyes upon to feel as “known” to us as the landscapes of our own little towns.

It was from the port of Joppa that Jonah “took ship to flee from the presence of the Lord” (Jonah 1:3).

Ironically, it was also in Joppa at the house of Simon the tanner, by the sea-side, Peter resided many days.  It was there, on the house-top, where he prayed and God spoke to him in a vision. (Acts 9:36-43)

Interesting that one man is running from God and another man is running to God in the same port of Joppa. 

If you and I are as alike as I think we are; we must agree that we are both of these men.  One day we are running from God and the next we are on our knees longing to be as close to Him as possible.  

This constant game of tug-o-war ensues within our own Joppa, which by definition means “beautiful.”

It was in Joppa where Peter got down on his knees and prayed for a woman named Tabitha who had died.  Tabitha was raised from the dead.  Because of this miracle many people in Joppa believed in the Lord.  Beautiful indeed, this place called Joppa.

God captured the people of Joppa’s attention by breathing life into what was dead.  

As if raising a woman from the dead wasn’t enough, the vision God revealed to Peter when he was in a trance praying on the rooftop was a game changer.  God showed Peter that He does not show favoritism.  Up until this moment Peter had thought the message of God was for Jews, not Gentiles.  However, “while Peter was still speaking the Holy Spirit came on all who heard the message…the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles” (Acts 10:44-45)

Turns out Joppa is a place where all live, Jew or Gentile, saved or unsaved.  

In Joppa, we can choose to run from God or we can choose to fall on our knees and pray to God.  We can speak life into what is dead and believe for miracles; and we can speak up when God says speak.  We can embrace each other, even when we don’t look alike.  We can acknowledge that God created us all in His image and granted each one of us repentance unto life. 

If we choose the path of the defeated, we can also look at our lives in Joppa as messy and hopeless.

My prayer today is that we choose the path of Peter and drop to our knees as we trust our Maker in our own “beautiful” place called Joppa.   

Stay the Course...

Sheila Cote'

Mountains

On the mountaintop I hear Him; His voice echoes in the winds

He gently breezes past me, dancing over rocks and bends.

In the valley He is near me whispering with each weary step;

“Do not be anxious; do not worry, for I know all that lies ahead.

As you labor on this mountain don’t forget to look around,

There is beauty in the journey; there is much joy to be found.

As you stumble over tree roots on the narrow winding trail

Out of breath and out of hope may My joy help you travail.

Dip your hand into the brook where icy mountain waters flow

Drink from the pureness of My beauty and your countenance will glow.

It is My desire to keep you, to refresh and to renew

You can accept Me or reject Me; the choice is up to you.

I will not force Myself upon you; you may walk near or far away

Though my heart longs to embrace you, the choice is yours to stay.

No judgment do I harbor, though your heart is hard as stone

I will tarry on this mountain, you will never be alone.

As you climb above the tree line, your foot unsteady on the shale

Ever pressing through the weather, through the rain, the sleet and hail

I will keep your foothold steady, I will cover and protect

Nothing shall touch My Beloved though you resist, though you deflect.

When at last you reach My mountaintop; My beauty to behold,

I will reveal to you new things, priceless treasures to unfold.

Close your eyes, find My rest, allow My winds to dance upon your face

Learn to trust Me fully, cling tightly to My grace.

The world whispers in your ear, you are forced to make a choice

To listen to the god of lies or to tune your ear to hear My voice.

Draw near to Me, I will draw near to you; seek Me with all your heart and soul.

I shall be found by you when you seek Me; may My love be your greatest goal.

Whether on the mountain top or in the valley low

Both places hold my favor--when you are rooted in Me 

You will flourish and grow.

Take My hand; I’ll guide your steps

For indeed the path is rugged,

I am God, I am Creator—

You are My Beloved.” 

Stay the Course...

Sheila Cote'

How Did This Happen?

(Less than two months ago our daughter was married in our back yard in Adrian, MI.  Many of you have experienced giving a child away in marriage, if not yet --you will one day..  I wrote this letter to our daughter and read it to her and our new son-in-law at their wedding reception.)

I’m guessing that right now Sarah is saying to herself, “Oh no, my mamma wrote something about me—please don’t let it be embarrassing!”

I had to—there are things that must be said!

The other day as I was driving around town doing errands, the question popped into my mind, “How did this happen?”

We’ve all heard countless times how quickly the years go; how in the blink of an eye the circle of life runs its course.  

It’s true that just a few blinks ago we found out that we were expecting our first baby—a boy is what we were told.  As you can all clearly see; they were mistaken.  Sarah Jessica made her entrance into the world.  “How did this happen?” I thought as I awkwardly held her bobbling head wondering how to care for a little girl who expected me to understand baby language.  Don’t get me wrong, I knew how IT had happened; what I didn’t know was what to do with the little bundle who counted on her mama and daddy for her very existence. 

As parents, we did a lot of things wrong.  I couldn’t make her like the things that I liked even though I tried really hard.  She was artistic and musical and loved painting her nails, making her hair pretty and playing with makeup.  I made her run track, and play softball.  The softball helmet messed up her gorgeous hair, the softball glove ruined her nails and the dust from the field got her pretty red sneakers all dirty.  “How did this happen?” I thought to myself from the bleachers as I wondered why she wasn’t having the time of her life.

In spite of me, Sarah continued to grow into her own self.  We became more than mother and daughter, we became friends.  She was so different from me and yet in some instances so much like me that I eventually learned how to embrace the beauty of my child. Sarah’s uniqueness somehow lay in the way she made choices to not match the crowd, to draw lines in the sand of morality and to be a quiet giant for the God of the universe who had captured her heart from an early age.

“How did this happen?” I silently prayed as we dropped her off in Dallas Texas to attend Christ For The Nations so she could pursue her desire to become a missionary.  I couldn’t have been more proud yet my heart was torn as our family of five drove away from Dallas with one of our seats empty. 

As months turned into one year and then into two years, the girl who stubbornly proclaimed that she would not date while at college began to call home to share news of a “boy” who was different from anyone she had ever met.  His name was Billy (just kidding--his name was Jachin)! 

Naturally, I did what any mother would do; I found an excuse to fly to Dallas to see if I could stop the madness before it was too late!  

Something strange happened that weekend.  My husband and I met Jachin’s parents and we fell in love with them.  Russell and Nylece were a breath of fresh air to us and our hearts were at peace.  

Soon Jachin called Jesse to ask for permission to start dating our daughter.  My heart rejoiced and my heart ached.  I blinked a few times and Jachin once again called my husband, only this time he was asking for our daughter’s hand in marriage.  “How did this happen?” I asked as I stuck my ear next to Jesse’s ear so I wouldn’t miss any of the conversation!  I’m really not one to meddle.

The entire above story has led us to this moment here today, right now.  As I behold my beautiful daughter and her HUSBAND (wow.) I can clearly see that God has brought us all together to honor this moment in time.  It’s as if the world has slowed down for just a second so that we can pause and celebrate the One who is never too soon and never too late in His gift of matchmaking.  So although we celebrate Sarah and Jachin today, we honor God for His incredible goodness and for His purpose in joining these two lives together.

Take in the beauty of this day and hold it always close to your hearts.  The world is no respecter of marriage.  Each new day presents us with choices and opportunities.  Some choices will bring you closer to each other and some will create space between you.  Chose always that which brings you closer, even if the other choice glitters more brightly.  Even if the whole world tells you to turn left; if your spouse tells you to turn right, I pray you will turn right.  If one of you feels that you have failed, I pray the other will whisper into his or her ear, “you are not a failure.” 

I pray that the bumps in the road will deepen your faith in God and strengthen the core of your marriage.  I pray that you will never assume anything and that the words you speak to one another of life and encouragement will far outweigh the words spoken in anger.  I pray that if there is one thing you have learned from watching me and your dad’s marriage (and Jachin-your parent’s marriage), it would be that it is not how easy the journey or how difficult the journey, but rather that the journey is traversed together.

Mostly, I pray that you will both always, at all times, keep your eyes on God.  It is only who He says you are that matters and only what He asks you to do with your lives that count.  Remember this-- especially when things don’t make sense and you are staring at each other asking, “How did this happen?”

And finally, in answer to my own question of “How did this happen?” I do not know, but I am so very thankful that it did.

I know I speak on behalf of my own husband and on behalf of Russell and Nylece when I say, “We believe in you, we support you and we love you Mr. and Mrs. Jachin Putnam.”

Stay the Course...

Sheila Cote