Genesis Archives - Heather J Jonsson

May 12, 2020

Leah’s Anguish: Am I Loved?

The day Adam and Eve succumbed to Satan’s temptation, God’s Kingdom on earth was turned upside down. Since then, the halls of time have echoed with the treacherous dealing of the powerful against the weak. We walked this painful path early in Genesis with Hagar and Sarah. And even now, while none of us need to look far to hear the echoes of this oppressive sin, some of us need not look farther than our own front door.

Oppression has a sickening heartbeat. But, when we lock arms with the women who walked this path first, the women of Genesis, perhaps surprisingly we hear whispers of hope for our today.

The Bible describes Leah as a “hated” woman. Leah first appears in Scripture when, by means of deception and dishonesty, she was given in marriage to a man who did not want her. Used as a pawn by her father, and then hated by her husband, no doubt insecurities and shame must have rumbled like a freight train through her heart and mind. Her husband loved another, but had been tricked into marrying Leah.

Leah was stuck. Unloved. Despised. Rejected.

In a culture that prized women solely for the children they could bear, we catch a glimpse into Leah’s growing desperation for love and approval as she names her first three children.

Reuben: “For now my husband will love me.”

Simeon: “Because the Lord has heard that I am hated, He has given me this son also.”

Levi: “Now this time my husband will be attached to me.”

Rejection is a pit, a chasm deep and dark. A place that would leave the strongest among us feeling desperate. Desperate for love and attention. Desperate for acceptance and good standing. Desperate to not be the one hated. Desperation driven by rejection. The Bible records Leah as the first woman to ask the age old question that haunts the heart of every woman, “Am I loved?”

Perhaps you know the rotting despair of this question. Perhaps you have had a father who mistreated you, or a husband who rejected you. A boss who demeaned you, or a friend who maligned you. A church who shamed you, or a sister-in-Christ who betrayed you. If this is the case, then Leah’s story is your story.

As the fires of rejection burn, we come to realize that all we hoped would bring us love and worth is completely incapable of doing so. The raging fire drives us into the Presence of God, and there we find Jesus. Our Savior. At that moment, His sweet Presence ignites our praise.

Praise is the hinge that swings wide the door so that God’s sustaining grace floods in.

Listen to Leah as the hinges turn and she names her fourth child.

Judah: “This time I will praise the Lord.”

This is the thing, you don’t need to find your way out of shame and anguish to find your voice of praise. Leah was no more loved on the day she named Judah than on the day she named Simeon, “Now my husband will love me.” When our lives are miserable and disagreeable, praise reaffirms in our hearts all that is glorious and beautiful. Sometimes, the most beautiful praise ignites from the fierce heat of suffering.

If the fires are raging, and you feel unloved, despised, and rejected, follow the example of Leah. This time, praise the Lord. Stop singing the song of shame and surrender to the chorus of Praise. In the deepest valley, hear His songs of love wash over you, and open your weary heart to echo back His glory and beauty with increasing joy.

Praise will douse the fires of shame and rejection, but ignite the fires of beauty and glory. Read His Word, listen to worship, and spend time in fellowship. You will be reminded of you whose you are and who you are, Beloved of God!

The Lord your God is in your midst,

a mighty one who will save;

he will rejoice over you with gladness;

he will quiet you by his love;

he will exult over you with loud singing.

Zephaniah 3:17

April 15, 2020

When God Remembers

Over the past month, I have thought often about Noah, quarantined in a sense, swaying in the waves and bobbing like a cork upon the mighty seas. I wonder if Noah and his family had a hard time remembering what day it was. I wonder if the walls became boring, the chores monotonous and the seasickness overpowering. I wonder if they grieved for the loved ones lost in the flood, or as the drops of rain swirled into rising waves they moved from fear to deep sorrow. I wonder if they felt a lot like we feel now. For about a year, Noah and his family lived inside the tar pitch ark they called home.

As the pandemic tightens its fierce grip, my heart has moved from bouts of anxiety to deep waves of sorrow. I am gripped with sadness as I hear the news of my friend’s family members who are either fighting for their lives, or lost their lives to this virus. I see photos of our medical warriors fighting on the front lines, risking their own health to fight for another. I sense the economic shift, and I know friends will lose jobs, not be able to pay mortgage, or go deeper into debt. Now, more than ever, a desperate world needs an anchor and a sorrow clad world needs hope. This is our moment!

Like rays of sun breaking through gray storm clouds, “God remembered Noah.”

God Remembered

God does not remember in the way that we remember, like the million times I lose my phone and cannot remember where I left it. For God, remember is not the opposite of forget.

Remember is the covenant language used to portray God’s faithful, merciful and sovereign actions towards His people for His covenant plan. This theme weaves its way through the beginnings of time. With Noah. Abraham. Rachel. Hannah. And then, Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist; and Mary, the mother of Jesus. God’s remembrance carries the beautiful understanding that God can turn the ship around in every single dire situation

Mary sang, “He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy.” (Luke 1:54)

While Zechariah prophesied, “For He has visited and redeemed His people…to show the mercy promised to our fathers and to remember His holy covenant.” (Luke 1:68,72)

God remembered Noah and God will remember us. Even as we sway in the uncertain waves, where our hearts sorrow and our souls ache, God will remember us. His covenant faithfulness has no end. He is never late. He owns absolute sovereignty. He holds the future in the palm of His hands. And He will always act in faithful mercy to His covenant people. Always.

This does not mean we will be spared the sorrow of this broken world. Noah bobbed in a boat for a year. Rachel agonized over infertility. Mary accepted her unwed pregnancy. John the Baptist died in Herod’s dungeon. And now, when our stomachs grow seasick and our hearts multiply with sorrow, how now should we live? As we wait for the rebirth of this broken world, where can we anchor our hope?

In our most desperate moments, we must remember the God who remembers. When storms avail and our ship dips into the waves, we can anchor our hope to His faithful promise to show mercy to His people. For God so loved, that He sent His beloved son to die on a cross and rescue you from sinking in hopelessness.

Perfect is His memory of the merciful covenant at the cross of Jesus. Trust that His mercies will rise as sure as the sun kissed raindrops brought forth the first rainbow, until the day He calls you home and glory resplendent is forever your gaze.

“Behold, a throne stood in heaven, with one seated on the throne…and around the throne was a rainbow that had the appearance of an emerald.” Revelations 4:3

March 31, 2020

Watering 10 Camels: A servant’s heart like Rebekah

This afternoon, after 2 of my children created another chocolate chip cookie disaster, I walked across my sugar-coated floor and surveyed the day’s damage. Clutter cozied into every corner. Dried muddy footprints lined the front hallway, and my goodness, the art box!

In a moment of desperation, I traded free reign of the art box for 2 hours of moderate quiet. I know for some moms this doesn’t seem too startling, but for me, the idea of a glitter and glue explosion is the stuff of nightmares. I operate a highly managed art box, solely giving rations based on academic needs.

Like you, my daily rhythms drastically changed. Like you, I feel overwhelmed and undermanned in my new Corona-induced roles. You are not alone!

I currently spend the majority of my day on the 3 main essentials: Homeschool Teacher. Cook. Mediator.

All else is simply non-essential. As the school clutter inevitably grows, my other visions for Spring are shoved aside. Mix in the fight against stress, fear and anxiety, and our new Corona-induced roles daunt us even more.

Overwhelmed by the heavy lift in our new reality, it is like we are all facing 10 Camels!

Walk with me back to Genesis for a moment.

Close to his death, Abraham instructed his servant to find a wife for his son, Isaac. Abraham forbade the servant to take a wife for Isaac from the Canaanites, but rather, to travel back to his family to find a mate for Isaac. The servant began his journey and took with him 10 camels.

This seems an obscure detail. You may have read this passage a thousand times and still missed it. However, the significance thunders into our reality today.

Loaded with all the essentials, the camels’ long, knobby legs lumbered their way towards Abraham’s homeland. It would be a long journey, but camels are equipped for long treks in the desert. Onward the servant went, away from Canaan and toward Abraham’s ancestral land.

And perhaps, while the servant bumped along on his camel, he pondered how to find the right wife for Abraham’s beloved son Isaac. She would have to be gracious and kind, hard-working, and a bit adventurous. The servant decided what he would do. He would go to the well at the time the young women of the village came to draw water. The woman who offered this travel-weary man a drink, and also offered to draw water for his camels, would be the one.

The servant prayed. The women began to arrive. Then, towards him walked Rebekah.

Did you know that a thirsty camel can drink about 30 gallons at one time?

If we do our math correctly, 30 Gallons x 10 Camels = 300 Gallons.

Assuming that Rebekah was a strong woman, she could carry about 5 gallons of water at one time. 300 Gallons/5 Gallons = 60 TRIPS.

Ancient wells were unlike the ones of the American Colonial days. There was no rope to pull up a bucket. Rebekah would walk down a few stairs, bend over to fill her jar, lift the heavy jar onto her shoulder, walk back up the stairs, and dump the water in the feeding trough. 60 TIMES!

Rebekah would have seen the 10 camels and known the heavy lifting required to water them. I’m not sure I would offer to do such a task for a strange man from a strange land!

But not Rebekah. She was ready and willing to do the heavy lifting. She saw the camels and offered to make the 60 trips to bring up water.

She had the heart of a servant, and she chose to act.

Coronavirus isolation measures are our 10 camels. This is our moment! Cloistered in close with our families. Mediating fights. Homeschooling. Cooking. Working from home, or not working at all. It is so much heavy lifting.

But I see you!

I see you working to relearn 7th grade math, wrestling with kids to complete their English assignment and manage their boredom. I see you nursing your babies in the middle of the night and making PB&J sandwiches with one hand while holding your crying baby in the other. I see you balancing work and kids, kids and work, and attempting to remain sane. I see you dressing in scrubs, masks, gloves, and goggles as you head into the ICU to serve. I see you reaching out in love to your elderly neighbors, delivering flowers and groceries, and calling to check on a grandma. I see you making more daily snacks than you usually do, cleaning the kitchen a million times, and mitigating screen-time like a pro. I see you reading a few extra picture books at night, tickling their toes and whispering your love.

Women across the ages have overcome unique challenges with the fortitude of a serving heart. You are marching in the ranks of heroes. I am so proud of you all! But mostly, God is proud of you. Well done, good and faithful servant.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” Hebrews 12:1

Listen to my teaching on this passage from Genesis 23-25, Watering 10 Camels: The Legacy of a Servant in https://heatherjjonsson.com/my-teaching/

March 2, 2020

As complicated as a knotted ball of yarn.

We nodded our heads in agreement as I put into words what she thought, “It it so complicated.” For two hours we walked with the bright Spring sun hitting our backs, propelling us forward. And we talked about everything under that Spring sun, the tenuous fallout from living in a broken world.

I looked back on the path our conversation had wandered, which weaved it’s way through family and stubborn children, divorce and the church, finances and risky moves. I saw a twisted ball of yarn, entangled and knotted. With so much heartbreak and suffering weighing down on our sin clad world, I was left with four simple words, “It is so complicated.”

Is there a way to untangle this ball of yarn? To find it’s knotted sinews and gently tease them apart? Is there a way to step out of a conversation like this to find that hope is the victor?

Sarah of Genesis lived a complicated life. She married her half-brother, Abraham, which came in handy when twice he deceived Kings to protect his own hide. These Kings, told by Abraham that Sarah was his sister, took Sarah as one of their wives, until they discovered the truth. Sarah was Abraham’s wife. With her husband, she left her family and home to live in tents all her living days. Much like modern camping, she packed and unpacked the pots and pans and clothes and tents and bed mats, time and again. Not only was her life dictated by the habits of movement, she was also infertile beyond childbearing age in a culture where children were a women’s crowning glory. And in bitterness, she abused Hagar her servant, who did bear her husband’s child.

It is so complicated.

Nearing the end of her days, when Sarah’s journey looked like a twisted and tangled ball of yarn, and her heart probably felt the same, she bitterly laughed at God’s pronouncement she would have a baby. Abraham announced the angels arrival, and Sarah stepped behind the coarse goat hair flap of her tent. Hidden within earshot, she heard the Lord say, “I will return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife shall have a son.”

However, Sarah could not rejoice. The pain of her life tied the sinews of her heart in knots. Instead of rejoicing, Sarah quietly laughed with bitterness. I do not blame her. Her life was complicated, marked by loss and grief and suffering. In Sarah’s shoes, I do not think I would fair much better.

Yet true to God’s promise, Sarah did conceive. For nine months she carried the baby in her womb. Like butterfly wings against her belly, her baby fluttered inside. She swelled and it became uncomfortable to sleep. With each sleepless night, she hugged her belly and felt the bitterness melt away. Yes, she whispered, “nothing is too hard for the Lord!”

Finally, the day arrived. Her water broke and her body contorted in pain, bringing forth her promised son.

“We will name him Isaac,” Abraham declared. “Isaac – He laughs – this is God’s name for our son.” Tucked inside a blanket and pressed again her breast, Sarah held the promise of God’s joyous laughter.

Ladies, listen. No matter the depth of complication, God’s sovereignty will always have the last laugh! Through bitterness and anger and confusion and complication, God is Victor! He is sovereign over the darkest parts of our story, the parts that leave our ball of yarn tangled and twisted. Because He reigns, we can take our knotted ball of yarn and hand it over to the God of the Possible.

Alongside the God of the Possible, we meet at our knotted mess and together begin to tease apart the strands. In prayer, we find our knots begin to loosen. With power from the God of the Possible, we take on the most complicated knots of bitterness, fear, anger and confusion, and allow them to give way to trust. Always trust.

God’s sovereignty lays straight the twisted ball of yarn. It is complicated. So trust Him, the one who softens our knots.

February 24, 2020

The God of Hagar, the God who sees.

Two weeks ago as I stepped forward to teach one of the hardest portions of scripture I have ever taught, I said the most honest words I could think of. “I don’t usually get nervous when I teach, but today I am shaking and my palms are sweating!”

In case you are not familiar with Genesis 19, it is the horrific scene of Sodom and Gomorrah. The one where Lot offers his two daughters to the men of the town, “to do as you like with them,” in place of the angelic guests the townsmen sought. Sin breeds dysfunction, from the day Eve and Adam disobeyed God, to the day Jesus returns to make all things new.

Genesis is chalk full of sin bred dysfunction. Particularly painful is the risky dealings of men corrupted. Glimpsing back to the beginnings of Genesis, we hear Lamech’s undertones of threat, “Adah and Zillah, listen to me; wives of Lamech, hear my words. I have killed a man for wounding me, a young man for injuring me.” (Genesis 4:23) Or the times Abraham lied about his wife in order to protect his own hide, while powerful kings took Sarah into their harem – TWICE. And lest we solely point the finger at men, women can be just as insidious. We are simply less likely to hold the power and strength.

Enter Hagar, servant of Sarah. (Genesis 16)

Sarah and Abraham were unable to have children, and they were advancing in years. Panicking, Sarah gave Hagar to Abraham, using Hagar as a way to gain children. Hagar conceived, and she “despised” Sarah. We do not know the exact reason why Hagar despised Sarah after she conceived. Perhaps the issue was her prideful heart. However, I would also like to suggest the distinct possibility Hagar did not want to be pregnant with Abraham’s child. She was not offered a choice whether to marry Abraham or not. As the embryo of life began to grow in her womb, resentment began to grow in her heart.

Sarah’s anger simmered against Hagar and the baby growing within, and she abused Hagar. Fleeing, Hagar ran into the wilderness.

Used. Abused. Abandoned. But not forsaken.

The heart of God is always after the heart of the used, abused and abandoned. In the story of Hagar, God’s tender love is an oasis upon parched land. And light breaking through in the darkness.

The one who wastes away in the cruel heat of a desert land, is the one who thirsts the most. Perhaps this is why the interaction between God and Hagar is so precious. Hagar, used, abused and abandoned, is the only person in the Bible to give God a name. God found her in the wilderness and Hagar called Him, “You are a God of seeing. Truly here I have seen Him who looks after me.” (Genesis 16:13)

Seventeen years later, in another wilderness, Hagar wept as she placed her son under a bush to die. Like echoes upon a canyon, God called back to her the Name of her first wilderness experience. Haven’t we all needed this? Haven’t we all longed to hear the echoes of the God we know, but cannot see under the crushing weight of our burdens. Like a badge of honor, God proves Himself again; I am who you said I am.

While Hagar and Ishmael sat on the brink of death in the wilderness, the God of seeing visited her again. The God of seeing opened Hagar’s eyes to see a well and draw water for her son, Ishmael, who is rightly named God hears. The God of seeing called upon her to say, “Fear not, for God has heard.” (Genesis 21:17)

Like the consistency of the waves upon the shore, God’s steadfast and unchanging love fell upon Hagar’s heart, reassuring her that He is a God who sees and a God who hears. He came to their rescue.

He can and will come to your rescue too!

February 18, 2020

Boldness in a Beetle: Give me Faith when I Fear

Brother Andrew earned the nickname, “God’s Smuggler” from his years of smuggling Bibles through the Iron Curtain during the height of the Cold War. He filled his puttering blue Volkswagen Beetle with Bibles, driving through military borders to reach small underground churches in countries such as Poland, East Germany and the Soviet Union. These churches had no access to the greater Christian community, and they certainly had no access to God’s Word. Risking his own life for the sake of these brothers and sisters shackled by communism, Brother Andrew’s mission became, “wake up, strengthen what is and is about to die.” (Revelations 3:2)

I can place myself in the driver’s seat of his blue beetle full of stowed-away Bibles, slowly moving up the line towards military controlled border crossings. As the car idles, I begin to panic as I watch the military personnel order everyone out of the car in front of mine. All of their belongings are pulled out of their car. Methodically, the hubcaps are removed and then seats are hoisted out and the engine is searched. Wondering if I should turn around, my heart races. I fervently pray as fear wraps its spindly fingers around my mind.

“Lord, what am I going to do?” Brother Andrew prayed.

A daring answer came; place a few Bibles on your front seat. Testing his faith, and the God of His faith, Brother Andrew pulled a few Bibles out of the back and placed them on the seat. He trusted that boldness would be met with God’s provision.

As the car in front of him was reassembled, he shifted into gear and prayed, “When you were on earth, You made blind eyes see. Now, I pray, make seeing eyes blind.”

Brother Andrew handed the guard his passport. He silently prayed. He waited. Then he was motioned through. Surely something must be wrong! He inched forward, wondering if he was expected to pull over so his car could be searched. Looking in his rearview mirror he saw the guard begin a search of the car behind him. Relieved and emboldened, Brother Andrew drove into Poland with a car full of illegal Bibles.

I’ve read this story a few times over the years, and every single time I ask myself, would I have done this? Would I have been willing to sacrifice so much for the sake of God’s call, or would fear have had the last word and beat back my eagerness to serve?

In most likelihood, you and I will never be a Bible smuggler. But do we ever fear sacrificial hospitality, or a risky transition God has called us to, or fear of the impact of a rebellious child, or fear as our bills stack up, or fear of what lies on the other side of our heart wrenching grief?

We fear because we think we might lose; lose our lives, our reputation, our money, our time, our families. We fear loss because we lack faith. We lack faith because we don’t intimately know our Father, the God of Abraham, who brazenly told Abraham to sacrifice his very own beloved son, Isaac.

Step-by-step Abraham walked in faith towards the sacrifice. At dawn’s first light, Abraham cut the wood and packed his bags to trek towards the mountain. On the third day, Abraham told his servants he would worship and return with the boy. With his knife in hand, Abraham reassured his son God would provide for Himself a lamb. With resolute faith, Abraham trusted the God of future provision. Abraham took each step of faith because He knew the God of future provision. In the end, God provided the lamb and Abraham named the place, “THE LORD WILL PROVIDE.” (Genesis 22:14)

My friends, Fear is always defeated by Faith in the God of future provisions.

Yes, this side of heaven the sacrifice may be great. Your heart may break a million times over. But sacrifice means you will always find the undeniable presence of the God of Provision. He has already secured this victory on the cross, so He wins. Every. Single. Time. Fear not, His Presence is always our surplus!

Today, beat back your fear with faith in the God of future provision. At the end of our days, we will say with Brother Andrew, “In the years of living this life of faith, I have never known God’s care to fail.”

(To read more about the life and ministry of Brother Andrew, I highly recommend both God’s Smuggler and Light Force.)

February 10, 2020

Faithfulness is our Best Yes

Do you remember the Choose Your Own Adventure books from our childhood? I used to spend many summer days curled up on my beach towel with the sun splashing about me, engrossed in choosing the adventure of the main character. I loved weaving the plot, maneuvering around obstacles and life and death situations. I longed to chose the best path for their journey, finding happiness when I brought the character safely to the end.

Yet, in most ways, our life is not a choose your own adventure. While we do measure and weigh massive decisions in the scales of our minds, and then execute these decisions, more often than not we are Sovereignly handed our adventure, without a say in it at all.

I was diagnosed with a liver disease early on in my first pregnancy. Over time my liver slowly shut down due to the pregnancy hormones, as the liver bile backed up in my blood. At night I lay awake itching my ankles and feet until I was cut and bleeding. Clothes felt unbearable. I pushed my air conditioning down to 60F and wrapped myself in a cotton sheet when I needed to make dinner. Slowly I turned yellow. Confused at God’s sovereignty, I wondered why my body would rebel, fighting against the exciting next step of our journey.

Our stories are never identical, but stories always rhyme. Like me, I’m certain God’s sovereignty has left you confused at times. Like me, I’m sure you have found yourself standing in the swirl of an adventure you never chose, while you wondered at it’s rebellious nature.

Unfaithful spouses. Infertility. Tragic accidents. Jobs lost. Defiant children. Premature deaths. Miscarriages. Tragic diagnoses. The list goes on and on.

Abraham and Sarah (Genesis 12-25) are heralded as hero’s of the faith, yet it is clear that God’s sovereignty left them confused also. Called out from his home and away from his people, God reiterated His promises to Abraham time and time again. Look to the stars in the heavens, so many shall your offspring be. Kings and nations will come from you. Your people will possess this land. However, this was not the reality on the ground! Sarah was infertile until she was 90, and then she bore only one child, Isaac. They wandered in tents as sojourners in the promised land, possessing only their burial plots upon their death. And perhaps most brazen, God asked Abraham to sacrifice his only son, Isaac. Can you imagine the confusion Abraham felt?

Yet…

Abraham and Sarah were faithful; not perfect, mind you, but faithful. They drew near to the One they considered faithful to them and trusted His Word. Assured of the hope they held in the Almighty God, the God who holds the power to bring life and to bring death, they walked forward in obedience. Walking in faith proved to be their best yes, even when the landscape of the future looked daunting and unnerving.

In the same way, our best yes is always faithfulness in the smallest details of our journey. Sometimes the promises of God fly in the face of our present circumstances. Sometimes confusion settles deep into our hearts. But, like Abraham and Sarah, take the first step of faithfulness, and then the next step and then the next, until you look back and see a trail of faithful obedient steps that led you directly to your Father’s heart. You cannot always choose your next adventure, but you can choose to live faithfully in the adventure God gave you.

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