Missing

What force can stop a mother bear when something comes between her and her cubs? 

What floods the heart when one of our children wanders out of sight? Will we not rest until we find them? Will we not be urgent in our search?

I was sitting cutting coupons when the small missing children section on the back of the ads caught my eye. A school photo of a little boy and his digitally aged photo next to it. He disappeared at 9 years old. He'd be 35 today, the same age as my husband. And they're still looking for him after 26 years. Someone hasn't given up the search. 

Do you think mothers resonated with Jesus when He said the Good Shepherd would leave the 99 sheep to find the missing 1 (Luke 15:4)? What's 1 sheep worth when you have 99 others to oversee? A mother might know if it were hers.

Jesus obviously knew. Afterall, they are His sheep. Not one is replaceable. Not one should be lost.

A handful of mama friends have had nightmarish dreams lately. Dreams where  their children are missing. The panic and anguish felt as if it were playing out in real life. In their dreams, some moms had to break down a barricaded door past an armed man to get to their child. Some had to search with no help or aid from anyone around them, people who could have taken up the search as well but were unconcerned, unmoved, annoyed. In my own dream I had to ask a person who didn't speak my language to help. And while some children in the dreams were found, they had been found in horrible situations, had been abused or were being abused when their mothers finally found them. Still other children were yet missing, the mothers still frantically searching as their dream ended. Their children had been snatched, had been hidden away, had vanished without a trace. Each mother's heart raced and ached as the dreams ended, shaken to their very core. 

While these dreams could be just excused as a terrible nightmare among any number of dreams, I believe The Lord is speaking to His Church. The kind of fierce determination a good mother has to keep and protect her children is God-breathed; that's His character. He's stirring the mothers, those who can't imagine losing any of their children, who will put up a fight and stop at nothing to get them back.

He knows this because He made us this way. And His children are missing. And He is not content to rest until He finds them and heals their wounds, calms their fears, restores their dignity and wraps them in His love. 

Begin with praying for your role in this as a mom. One of my mom friends who had one of the dreams I described was called out of the blue and given the scripture  "Listen, you women, to the words of the LORD; open your ears to what he has to say. Teach your daughters to wail; teach one another how to lament." (Jeremiah 9:20 NLT)

It's time we let loose the heart cry of God for His lost sons and daughters. His children are missing, and they are precious to Him. He desires that none should be lost (John 6:39).

“I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the countries where I have driven them and will bring them back to their pasture, where they will be fruitful and increase in number. I will place shepherds over them who will tend them, and they will no longer be afraid or terrified, nor will any be missing,” declares the Lord. (Jeremiah 23:3-4 NIV)

Do not be afraid, for I am with you; I will bring your children from the east and gather you from the west. I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’ and to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’ Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth— (Isaiah 43:5-6 NIV)

Showbread

A mom fully spent and overdrawn on energy and kindness with tears brimming her eyes is not how I imagined Christmas to go (wondering if Mary the Mother of Jesus felt this way also leading up to the birth of her son?...) After a particularly trying week my unworthiness was evident to those daily living with me. Most aware of it myself, the depth of my despair greatly increased; I could not stand my own presence. Not having a moment to process any worthwhile thought, I fed on the garbage my fed up mind could produce. Unworthiness and condemnation grew and overcame me. I was defeated.

The Lord was still speaking during this time, however. His faithfulness and gentleness never ceases. It astounds me. Had I gone to seek Him when He was speaking to me, I could've avoided the pit of despair I sank myself into.

He'd whisper one word to me over and over: Showbread...showbread...showbread...

I had heard that word before, I knew it had something to do with the Temple.  He'd whisper it while I was putting away the mounting laundry, while I was out running errands I didn't want to run, while I was hovering on tired legs over a full sink that reminded me of what a dirty mess I was. Showbread...

I'd love to say I dropped everything and ran to look up what the Lord was speaking to me so sweetly. But I pushed it aside along with everything else that mattered. The clean sweep of "distractions" left me lonelier and feeling more helpless than ever. 

How could I come before God in this Season of celebrating Him when I've done anything but celebrate Him? 

Still feeling guilt and shame, He whispers Showbread. So this time I go look. I can't ignore the whisper any longer and I'm intrigued. 

Here is what I found on www.the-tabernacle-place.com:

The table of showbread was a small table made of acacia wood and overlaid with pure gold. It measured 3 feet by 1.5 feet and was 2 feet, 3 inches high. It stood on the right side of the Holy Place across from the lampstand and held 12 loaves of bread, representing the 12 tribes of Israel. The priests baked the bread with fine flour and it remained on the table before the Lord for a week; every Sabbath day the priests would remove it and eat it in the Holy Place, then put fresh bread on the table. Only priests could eat the bread, and it could only be eaten in the Holy Place, because it was holy.

“Showbread” also was called “bread of the presence” because it was to be always in the Lord’s presence. The table and the bread were a picture of God’s willingness to fellowship and communion (literally speaking, sharing something in common) with man. It was like an invitation to share a meal, an extension of friendship. Eating together often is an act of fellowship. God was willing for man to enter into His presence to fellowship with Him, and this invitation was always open.

Jesus exemplified this when He ate with tax collectors, prostitutes and the sinners of Jewish society. But this was more than just a gesture of friendship on earth. Jesus came to call sinners to Him, make them right with God, so that they could enjoy everlasting fellowship with God.

“I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty. … Your forefathers ate the manna in the desert, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which a man may eat and not die.” (John 6:35, 49-50)

God so desires our fellowship that He was willing to come to earth from heaven as our “bread of life” to give eternal life to all those who would partake in it. At Jesus’ last Passover meal with His disciples, Jesus described Himself as bread again:

“While they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to his disciples, saying, ‘Take and eat; this is my body.’” (Matthew 26:26)

Jesus’ broken body is our only access to fellowship with God. Today, we celebrate the Lord’s Supper, or communion, to remember this important truth. And today, as in the day of Moses’ tabernacle, God still desires to have fellowship and sit down for a feast with His people.

“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelations 3:20)

I was in tears, as you can imagine, when I discovered what the Lord was wanting to show me. That He desires fellowship with me--always. He was my Showbread, that Bread of Life, so that I could commune with Him anytime. He made Himself the open invitation always before the Lord for me. My unworthiness had nothing to do with whether I could come to Him or not, because He took care of that on the cross. He made it apparent to all the world, not in a secret cove somewhere, but up on a hill scourged and naked showing all the world what He was willing to do so He could have me. 

So I come. With all my ugly and neediness, all my baggage--and it is not too much for Him. The invitation is always open for me to come. So I will run to the table where He offers Himself daily to be my Bread of Life in the presence of my Father. I am wanted here. 

There is a song that I've been singing lately by Audrey Assad called Lead Me On based on the 23 Psalm. It has all new meaning now that I understand what it all means. With raw abandon I sing it now with full assurance of its truth. 

You are my shepherd - there's nothing I shall want

Beside still waters You lead my spirit on

Your hand beside me no matter where I walk

Through darkest valley Your love is not far off.

And I will dwell in Your house forever 

Lead me on

I fear no evil, for You are with me

You set this table before my enemies

And You anoint me - You overflow my cup

And they will follow me, Your goodness and Your love.

And I will dwell in Your house forever 

Lead me on

Your rod and Your staff are a strange mercy

In a world where I'm not yet home.