But there’s another place….a sweet spot in scripture to which we must go. This is the book of Zechariah, ironically positioned as the next-to-last chapter of the Old Testament, just before the New Testament begins. When the exile-born prophet shares his testimony, his intimate encounter with the Living God, it’s as though he stutters and stammers as to report all that he saw, heard, felt and smelled. He repeats himself three times in seven sentences, saying “among the myrtle trees.” The critic in me wants to take my red pen, mark out two of them and say, “Really, Zechariah? What kind of trees? Don’t repeat yourself. We heard you the first time!” But I think Zechariah deserves some credit for, number one: not passing out, number two: taking it all in so that he would be able to convey the message to others, and number three: actually becoming a big boy and stepping up to be God’s mouthpiece. Because, let’s face it, those last two would have many of us doubting what we saw and heard and fearing what people might think of us.
So, here we have this imperfect guy who has a heavenly encounter. I can only imagine how everything looked to Zechariah, having known only a life of banishment. How green, lush and 3-D those trees must have been! Keep in mind, myrtles in that time and region, were very different from what we know as Crepe Myrtles today. They were one of the largest trees, with their width growing equal to their height and, of course, those eye-catching, star-like blooms to boot. With their sweet scent and lush beauty, myrtle trees were foretold in restoration prophesies as growing in places of briars and thriving in desolate places – which was a sign of the Lord’s blessing on a cursed land (Isaiah 41:19/55:13). And these myrtles were just a symbol, a mere token, of the presence of Almighty God. They became a landmark of the places where God showed His overwhelming grace and His breathtaking faithfulness in the midst of the adulterous hearts of His people. They represented a place where God met His people right where they were: in the thick of hurt and healing, torn between fear and faith. He somehow, some way restored the deepest parts of their brokenness. Just as He did for them, He will do for us. Exactly what He offered to them, He offers to us. As Paul echoed, “Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine according to His power that is at work within us,” let us go….expectantly….among the myrtle trees.
Chapter 1
“You were running a good race. Who cut in on you to keep you from obeying the truth?” Galatians 5:7
“Man strays away into misery and pain, because he loses the sense of value and runs after the temporary and the trivial. He ignores the voice of God which warns and guides him from within; and he pays the penalty for his transgression.” — Sri Sathya Sai Baba
My husband always says, “I’m built for the fight, not for the run.” For you to get as much amusement out of that as we do, I must share a few things with you. First of all, he’s a police officer and both of those actions happen to fall within his job description. Secondly, he has a body frame comparable to….well, let’s not play the celebrity look-alike contest. A couple of his nicknames from friends are “Tank” and “Stump.” That should help to give you a mental picture. And, lastly, have you ever seen muscle mass contend with speed? It’s quite amusing. If not, think Looney Tunes: Abominable Snowman vs. Bugs Bunny.
And a little human physiology lesson here: Our bodies prepare us so that we can fight or run….or both. By gathering a lot of energy quickly, we are able to cope with threats to survival. This is known as the “fight or flight” mechanism. Whether it’s a scary movie you have volunteered yourself to watch or something unplanned such as an accident or tragic news, your body responds to it. Stress hormones are released, the heart beats stronger and faster, breathing becomes more rapid, metabolism kicks up and the larger muscles receive more oxygenated blood. Your response can be automatic as well, just like a reflex reaction.
I’ll share an example from my youth. It’s a little embarrassing for me, but a good example none-the-less. I was sitting at a red light one night. Like a typical sixteen-year-old, I was counting how much time I had left until my curfew and I would turn into a pumpkin. I realized that I was behind one of my fellow classmates, but he didn’t recognize me. In fact, he didn’t even see me behind his pickup truck…..until he backed into my car. Surprised and scared, I backed my little VW up, went around him, and drove home. (Not one of my better moments!) When I got home, I confessed the incident to my parents and received a tongue-lashing from my dad. Then off we went to make things right from my wrong decision. Thankfully, because my classmate was an honest guy with good parents, the experience didn’t become any more painful, and it all worked out. “What was I thinking? I didn’t do anything wrong! Why did I run? I should have just stayed put and called the police.” Those were a few of my thoughts in the aftermath of my escape from the situation. It’s easy to play Monday morning quarterback when you are able to stand back, look at the whole picture and think it out with no time constraints. But when it comes down to reacting quickly, we act as best as we know how using our experience and knowledge.
What can be said about our spiritual “fight or flight” response? In times when everything you know, trust and believe God for is tested – how do you react? For example, when you hit financial ruin – can you stand and believe that God works all things out for good for those who love Him? When you watch your sick child fight for his or her life – can you remain assured that God is in control? When you have been abused, neglected or abandoned – can you believe that God is a compassionate and loving God? Maybe your faith endures the fight for a certain amount of time, and then you find yourself running. Don’t worry, there’s a pretty good running club to join. Moses, one of the first members, ran out of guilt after killing an Egyptian. Fear kept him hidden for forty years. After experiencing victory against Jezebel, Elijah ran. In fear and exhaustion, he retreated thinking His luck with God was wearing out. Jonah, the president of our running club (mostly because of the whale incident), ran in disobedience to God. Because he felt the savage people of Nineveh were beyond redemption, he didn’t want to be God’s messenger of hope. And let’s not forget that the Israelites, in the days of Zechariah, had become a generation of runners. They had turned their backs, plugged their ears and hardened their hearts toward God.
There was a time when I grew faith and held onto it for the sake of my mother’s life. I can honestly say that it was the first incident in my sheltered life that required any faith at all and I felt sure that God would not disappoint my newfound confidence. When my mom was thirty-five, she had a mole removed in her doctor’s office. After a pathology report revealed it to be cancerous, she underwent surgery to ensure that all of the malignancy had been removed. Life picked up from there and moved on to what you would call normal for the next six years. Then, during my sophomore year of high school, she had some health issues and it was determined that the melanoma was back. It returned with a vengeance. I watched my mom’s health quickly deteriorate due to the rapidly growing cancer and the chemotherapy and radiation treatments she underwent to fight it.
At the age of forty-two, she dropped to a weight of eighty-five pounds, with visible tumors all over her body. Faith in God’s healing was the only thing that could save my mom from her failing body; nothing else was working. God was our only hope. I was with her on several occasions when she became unresponsive. The last time it happened was at the hospital. A nurse’s aide was also in the room, and she flipped the blue code switch. When they arrived, hospital staff members rushed me out so they could resuscitate my mom. I called several family members to come to the hospital and we paced outside the door praying, believing and trusting God for her healing. Nothing I heard and saw was positive, but I did not allow that to shake my faith. I prayed harder and cried out louder to God. After a very long attempt to revive her, the code was ended and she was pronounced dead.