From the Thistle to the Peak

   

Photo by Timothy A. Gonsalves 2016

I had a dream in which I found myself face down in the dust, in a strange terrain that was sandy but overgrown with tiny, delicate flowers in a variety of colors, as if Van Gogh had shaken out his brushes over the ground. It reminded me of the Burren, a rocky plateau formation near the coast in western Ireland, home to many unique floral species growing in tiny crevices in the stone.

As I struggled to lift my head from the ground, I saw a thistle directly before me, its purple dome held erect by a thorny green stem. I focused on it for a moment, but my eyes were then drawn upward to the spectacular view before me – a craggy, gray pointed mountain with sun glinting off the snow-capped peak. I climbed onto my knees then stood up straight, arms outstretched as I breathed in the invigorating Alpine air.

I awoke still joyful in the epiphany of all things becoming new (2 Corinthians 5:17), in the transformation from groveling in the dirt to being uplifted as if to the very summit. I believe the dream was a reminder to change my perspective from the horizontal to the vertical, from the trials to the triumph, from the earthly to the heavenly.

The dream began with me prone in the dust, an extreme position of abasement with which Satan, that old serpent, was cursed when he successfully tempted Eve to disobey God (Genesis 3:14). Because of Adam and Eve’s transgression, the curse of sin has fallen on all mankind, and defines our journey unless and until we escape it by being born again (John 3:3-8).

Once we trust in the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:1-4) as the only Way to Heaven (John 14:6), we are freed from the penalty of sin, which is eternal death (Romans 6:23), and from the power of sin to control our thoughts, words and actions, through our new nature yielded to the Holy Spirit. One day in Heaven we will be freed from even the presence of sin, as our glorified bodies will sin no more (1 Corinthians 15:39-50).  

Just as God created man from the dust and breathed life into his nostrils (Genesis 2:7), so can He resurrect us from the pit of sin and death to heavenly places with Him, even in this worldly existence (Ephesians 1:3). While we still walk – or crawl, if need be – upon this earth, He consoles us with unexpected glimpses of beauty, like wildflowers piercing through barren rock in a vibrant palette of color.

Traditionally, the thistle is said to symbolize trials, or toughness, pain and aggression accompanying difficult life experiences. An old Spanish proverb states, “He that has a good harvest must be content with some thistles.”

Thistles were part of the curse sin brought on Adam, for God told him that he would have to endure hard labor tilling the soil for food, and that his harvest would be choked by thorns and thistles (Genesis 3:18). When Job claimed his innocence before God, he vowed that thistles could overrun his wheat field if he were lying (Job 31:40). Jesus explained that we could know a man’s heart by the fruit of his actions and character, for grapes do not come from thorns, nor figs come from thistles (Matthew 7:16).

On this earth, we have to contend with thorns and thistles in the midst of wildflowers and wheat harvest. The apostle Paul spoke of his “thorn in the flesh,” or affliction as a messenger of Satan that God used to keep him from being prideful (2 Corinthians 12:7). Being saved does not spare us from trials, but it gives us the endurance to go through them by following our Savior’s loving guidance.

In the parable of the sower, Jesus uses the illustration of good seed becoming unfruitful because it is choked by thorns, representing wealth as an idol that can hinder us from hearing and following God’s Word (Matthew 13:3-23).

As I look at the photo I chose for this blog post, I am struck by how the thistle head resembles the crown of thorns Jesus wore for us as He hung on the cross (Mark 15:17), suffering for us the pain we deserved as the penalty for our sin (2 Corinthians 5:21). The purple bloom is a fitting reminder of His royalty as King of Kings (Revelation 19:16) and divinity as Son of God (1 John 5:20), while the green stem calls to mind eternal life (Psalm 52:8; Jeremiah 17:8).

So the sacrifice of Lord Jesus Christ elevates all who trust in Him from the shame and death caused by sin to the hope (Titus 2:13; 1 Peter 1:3; Hebrews 6:19), victory and power of eternal life (1 Corinthians 15:57). In the dream, the brilliant white mountain peak represents the holiness and purity we receive not through any works or merit of our own (Ephesians 3:8-9), but only through the righteousness of Jesus Christ (Romans 4:22; James 2:23) that clothes us like a pristine wedding garment (Isaiah 61:10).

May we look up (Luke 21:28), keeping our focus on His perfection, beauty and holiness! May we experience His victory over our sin and death as He seats us in heavenly places with Him in this life and leads us to eternal life in the next! 

© 2022 Laurie Collett

 

 

When Prayer Becomes Worry

The apostle Paul told us to be anxious about nothing, but to pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17; Philippians 4:6). Why, then, did I find recently that my prayer time on occasion left me with a feeling of unrest, rather than the peace that passes all understanding? (Philippians 4:7)

My husband and I were blessed with the unique opportunity to dance as soloists with the Spectacular Senior Follies in Dallas, an amazing, high-caliber, professional level show featuring a cast of more than one hundred talented, seasoned entertainers over age 55. 

There were five performances in Dallas at the Charles Eisemann Performing Arts Center, a beautiful venue seating more than 1500 people.

God brought together all the arrangements, working all things together for our good (Romans 8:28), and we were delighted with the hospitality and professionalism of all those involved in the show. Our early rehearsals had gone well, with much enthusiasm and support from the directors and cast, and we were blessed to know that many in the cast were praying for us.

We were thrilled by the experience of dancing our choreography to a live band and an amazing Christian vocalist who brought new expression and meaning to the song, “You Light Up My Life,” with her unique, powerful, and Spirit-anointed interpretation.

But our first rehearsal at the Eisemann was a disaster. The floor surface, space, lighting, and music were all accommodating to our dancing; our bodies were in good shape and well prepared; and we were well rehearsed, with no reason for mental distress. Yet our balance, timing and connection were off to the point that we missed many moves ordinarily done with ease and consistency.

Our confidence being shaken, we turned to the Lord in prayer even more fervently than before. I felt like I was wrestling with God in prayer (Genesis 32:22-32). I found my prayers focused on God’s Word that without Him, we can do nothing (John 15:5), and that thought reverberated through my prayers so much that I feared it had become a vain repetition (Matthew 6:7).

Even worse, I wondered if constantly voicing my fears in prayer would result in a self-fulfilling prophecy, just as Job admitted that the thing he greatly feared had come to pass (Job 3:25). Yet I knew that with God, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26), and I longed to yield to His Holy Spirit, to be an empty vessel He could use to His glory (Romans 9:21; 2 Timothy 2:21).

Our next rehearsal and first two shows went well, yet I still felt that something was missing. I kept fretting over being able to do nothing without Him. One of the cast members had encouraging words about our dance ministry and told us of his approach to praise and worship. He compared it to floating weightless in outer space, lifted up by Him to heavenly places (Ephesians 1:3; 2:6) where there is no pressure, only the blessing of being filled with praise to Him (Psalm 71:8; Philippians 1:11).

Suddenly I realized why my prayers had turned more to worry than to praise, and why my dancing lacked the inspiration I sought. I was obsessing over being able to do nothing without God, and all the while God was saying, “This is true, but you are not without Me. Fear not, for I am with you!” (Matthew 28:20)

As our friend in the cast reminded us, and as we read in his book that he gave us, we have God the Father above us (Ephesians 4:6); Jesus the Son is Emmanuel, or God with us (Matthew 1:23); and the Holy Spirit is within every believer (2 Corinthians 1:22; Ephesians 1:13; 4:30). We have the mind of Christ (1 Corinthians 2:16; Philippians 2:5), and He will never leave nor forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). He will answer our prayers exceeding abundantly beyond what we could ask, imagine or think (Ephesians 3:20).

I felt that God was grieved (Ephesians 4:30) by my apprehension and worry, which actually represent the sin of unbelief (Mark 9:24). His Word commands us to pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17), and to be anxious about nothing, but to bring all our requests to Him in prayer (Philippians 4:6). Giving thanks and praise in our prayer, knowing that He knows what we need before we even ask Him (Matthew 6:8), should remove all anxiety. His perfect love casts out our fear (1 John 4:18).

Without faith, it is impossible to please Him (Hebrews 11:6). He has given us richly all things to enjoy (1 Timothy 6:17), and He wants us to share in His great joy and rejoicing over us (Zephaniah 3:17) by expressing our joy in the Lord (Nehemiah 8:10; Psalm 27:6; 32:11; 35:9). This reminder allowed us to let go in our dancing, to yield completely to His guidance (Romans 6:13), and to experience our dance as worship and praise to His glory (Psalm 149:3; 150:4) and not as a performance that we had to control or manipulate.

For the remaining three performances we felt transported to heavenly places in Him (Ephesians 1:3; 2:6), and we pray that the audience was moved closer to Him also. Many who approached us afterwards had a tear in their eye or spoke of watching us dance as being a spiritual experience. One of the cast who viewed our dance from the wings said he felt as if I had gone into a trance and become like an angel, used by God to communicate His message.

In our flesh we can do no good thing (Romans 7:18), but with God, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26). May we yield to Him, praise and worship Him in every word and deed, and let Him use us mightily to His glory!  

© 2015 Laurie Collett