The Jesus Storybook Bible: Every Story Whispers His Name

But God saved the best for last. From the beginning, God had a shining dream in his heart. He would make people to share his Forever Happiness. They would be his children, and the world would be their perfect home.

So God breathed life into Adam and Eve. When they opened their eyes, the first thing they ever saw was God's face. And when God saw them he was like a new dad. "You look like me," he said. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever made!"

God loved them with all of his heart. And they were lovely because he loved them.

And Adam and Eve joined in the song of the stars and the streams and the wind in the trees, the wonderful song of love to the one who made them. Their hearts were filled with happiness. And nothing ever made them sad or lonely or sick or afraid.

God looked at everything he had made. "Perfect!" he said. And it was.

But all the stars and the mountains and oceans and galaxies and everything were nothing compared to how much God loved his children. He would move heaven and earth to be near them. Always. Whatever happened, whatever it cost him, he would always love them.

And so it was that the wonderful love story began...


This is a part of the creation story from The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones. Many of you reading have heard me talk about this book. It is amazing! I've often wondered how stories written for children can have such an impact on an adult too. The fatherly love and the abundant grace of God overflow from each page. Sometimes I think that a book like this is exactly what we American church people need--a focus not on what we should or shouldn't do but on the beautiful story God has written and is writing to win back the one He loves (His church--us--you and me).

Embracing Worry

I worry. I spend much of my time and energy worrying about things--many of which will never happen. I try not to worry. I try really hard, but it doesn't seem to work. As I was talking to a friend about this the other day, she asked "What would it be like for you to embrace your anxiety?" As I've thought about this, I have had some ideas that, if they are true, could be very freeing.

Embracing my anxiety would be allowing myself the freedom to worry. I'm not sure what that would do. My guess is that I would worry about something for a while and then eventually see that: 1) I started worrying for an irrational reason, and 2) if the things I am worrying about happen, then maybe God is just providing something else for me. For example I worry about my job. What if I don't do well enough at it? What if I don't work hard enough? What if I can't accomplish some of the things I'm given to do? (I've been trying to write an overview of the goat industry for months and it's just not coming together...wonder why?) Well, maybe I would lose my job. If that would happen then maybe God has another means of provision in mind for me. Maybe He would be nudging me toward something that's more in line with what I want to do anyway. That wouldn't be so bad.

I think that I'm scared to embrace anxiety because I don't want it to define me. I want who I am in Christ to define me. Right now worry feels like this huge river that I have to hold back. It's hard. I can't do it, and inevitably I let some water leak out. Each time I do the river gets closer and closer to gushing over me. So, naturally I get mad at myself for letting a little water out because with each trickle I get closer and closer to being washed away.

But maybe there's not a river. Maybe there are just a few trickles and after that the "river" would be dry. If that's true, I am exerting a whole lot of energy for nothing. I'm trying to hold back something that doesn't exist.

I think it comes back to the issue of trusting myself. If I were to embrace worrying, I would be trusing that God's mark on me runs deeper than my worrying does--that at my core I am not a worrier, I am a child of God (which means I trust Him as my father). I would be trusting that God is already in the deepest parts of my heart, even when it looks like nothing but ugliness is there. Can I believe that?

A Freight Train's Damage

Although I've lived in Kansas most of my life, I have never heard the foreboding freight train-like roar of an approaching tornado. Last week, however I was convinced that would change. A tornado that had started some 80 miles ago was approaching the town I live in. Despite being in the middle of Tornado Alley we seldom get hit. In fact I believe (if I remember what I heard correctly) that it has been 40-odd years since our town has seen a tornado. Since this tornado had already traveled 80 miles the chances that it would break up before it hit us were slim.

As we watched the storm coverage from the basement we started hearing reports of damage near our house--just blocks away. We moved to the hallway away from any windows and listened and waited. Nothing, except of course the pounding of rain and rumbles of thunder. But no freight train.

We all breathed a sigh of relief and ventured upstairs to see what there was to see. The damage reports were slow to start but soon became continuous. Flooding, limbs down, debris everywhere, entire homes destroyed, a car dealership badly hit, a hardware store leveled, and unconfirmed reports that it hit the college campus.

Since the reports were "unconfirmed" I didn't think much about showing up to work on campus the next day. After seeing a little of the damage I quickly decided that the reports were now confirmed and that the sheer power in a tornado is nothing to take lightly. I drove into my parking lot to find trees ripped up, light poles torn down, and a car overturned. As I explored the tornado's wake this surreal feeling came over me. How could something do so much damage so quickly?

I don't think I'll ever fully understand the wind's ability to bend and twist things. I found a tree and a light pole sitting by one another that were bent at the same angle. The window in my office was sucked out. (I know this because there were very few shards of glass in my office.) I realize that, being from Kansas, I should have a good idea of how this all works, but the power that is displayed in something like this is just amazing...breathtaking in its own way.

I use words like breathtaking and amazing because no one in my town was seriously injured in this storm. My home was not damaged. Its effect on me has been minimal. My tone would surely change if I had been more closely affected.

From the inside of the building where I work.

The tree is uprooted and the sign and stoplights are blown over.

A bent light pole.

Storm Clouds

I just heard on the radio that tonight we will have the worst storms since 1974. This brings many questions to my mind. How do they know that? Is what's happening in the atmosphere right now so telling that they can say we will have the worst storms in 34 years? That's a long time and a big claim. And what happened in 1974? (Obviously some big storms happened.)

It certainly feels like it's going to storm. It's overcast in the mid 80s with 40 mph wind. I was just noticing that as you walk outside you only see the underside of the leaves on the trees. This makes the trees have more of a grey tint to them. The grey trees juxtaposed with the the low-hanging dark clouds creates an ominous feeling. I feel small and insignifigant yet somehow excited to see whatever the storms will bring.