Here I am, trying to continue my “Thankful Thursday” tradition (of one week). I am still, first and always, thankful for the Lord who is a very present help in trouble and for my family. I can’t seem to get past that.
I need to explain that by nature, I am a fixer. Most mothers are; maybe because from day one at home with the little bundle, we have to fix things. Baby cries, mom’s fixer nature kicks into action. That continues on until, well I haven’t found the place and time it stops yet, even though some of my babies have babies. I still hear a problem and my mind is off and running--thinking of options: you could do this, or you could say that, or let me handle those, etc.
I have been told more than once that they don’t want me to fix things; they just want me to listen. Oooh! Do you know how hard that is for a fixer? “You mean close my mouth and open my ears?” I can guess where the term “biting your tongue” came from. It came from a mother trying to shift gears from being a fixer to being a listener and an encourager.
Unfortunately, I have been further forced to leave the role of fixer because the problems now are far too big for me to fix. That is painful. Relationship issues, employment choices, housing problems, and the like are completely out of my hands. I can’t fix it! Do you know how that makes a fixer feel? I’ll tell you. TERRIBLE!!
I am so thankful to be a Christian for many reasons, but a huge reason is that little verse mentioned above. “Psalm 46:1 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” In other words, it helps so much to know that there is a far better fixer; there are far better hands. Natalie Grant sings a song about that very thing. “But there is hope when my faith runs out, ‘Cause I’m in better hands now.”
It goes on to say, ”I am strong all because of you. I stand in awe of every mountain that you move...I am safe from this moment on; and there’s no fear when the night comes around, I’m in better hands now.”
So, very often these days, I have to put away my “fixer” shingle and hang out my “truster” one. I just wish faith came a little more naturally. I’m somewhat concerned that I have worn down the golden floor in front of the throne of grace. I take my problems to God and leave them. Then, I turn around and go get them. Then I turn around and take them back, and then go get them, and take them, and go get them.
Wait, I might have an idea to fix that floor. . .
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Seeds or Weeds
I picked up my granddaughter, TaterTot, from preschool today and she wanted to hear the song “The Lord is my light and my salvation” repeatedly. It’s her current favorite. She just sat in her booster seat and sang it over and over and over. That was okay because I love to hear kids sing, particularly songs about the Lord. Those words will stay with her long after it’s no longer the favorite. I know that from personal experience because my own mind is stuffed full of song lyrics, sometimes just a little scrap and sometimes the whole song. On the positive side of that, most of the bible verses I know have come from singing scripture songs.
Now, I also have in my mind many lyrics of oldies. It’s not that they are valuable; I just can’t seem to forget them. It’s like my hard drive is cluttered and needs to be defragmented with many inconsequential memories permanently deleted. Then I would have room for the important new data that needs to be stored there.
I used to tell my students that they needed to take some hard courses and learn difficult procedures and facts in school, because in doing that they were building shelves that could later store important things. If they never did anything challenging, they wouldn’t exercise their brain. As I studied the brain later, I wasn’t too far off. All those little convolutions may actually be like shelves.
Much of our life is determined by what we have stored on those shelves. Some things we store on purpose (that’s called learning) and some just jump in there through our senses like our eyes or ears. That is why it is so important for all of us and particularly little ones not to “feed” our minds with junk. Some years ago we were in a musical about planting good seeds and learned that if we plant weeds in our minds, weeds are what we will harvest. Good seeds produce a good harvest.
I have seen some weeds (scenes in movies) that I would so much like to forget. But there must be a cosmic law that says, “The quickest way to forget something is to try to remember it, and the surest way to remember something is to try to forget it." I have tried to pull up those weeds from my mind, but they just won’t go. “Be careful little eyes what you see.”
Perhaps the reason violent crimes and ugly behavior have become so prevalent is that society feeds on them for entertainment. There are not many TV shows that offer good seeds. I don’t listen to a lot of popular music, but I am aware that much fits into the “weed” category. “Be careful little ears what you hear.”
Enough weedy stuff; I want to get back to good things we can store on our shelves. Solomon said, “My son, keep my words and store up my commands within you. Keep my commands and you will live; guard my teachings. . . write them on the tablet of your heart.”
I’m with TaterTot. Let’s sing that song over and over.
The Lord is my light and my salvation,—of whom shall I be afraid?
Now, I also have in my mind many lyrics of oldies. It’s not that they are valuable; I just can’t seem to forget them. It’s like my hard drive is cluttered and needs to be defragmented with many inconsequential memories permanently deleted. Then I would have room for the important new data that needs to be stored there.
I used to tell my students that they needed to take some hard courses and learn difficult procedures and facts in school, because in doing that they were building shelves that could later store important things. If they never did anything challenging, they wouldn’t exercise their brain. As I studied the brain later, I wasn’t too far off. All those little convolutions may actually be like shelves.
Much of our life is determined by what we have stored on those shelves. Some things we store on purpose (that’s called learning) and some just jump in there through our senses like our eyes or ears. That is why it is so important for all of us and particularly little ones not to “feed” our minds with junk. Some years ago we were in a musical about planting good seeds and learned that if we plant weeds in our minds, weeds are what we will harvest. Good seeds produce a good harvest.
I have seen some weeds (scenes in movies) that I would so much like to forget. But there must be a cosmic law that says, “The quickest way to forget something is to try to remember it, and the surest way to remember something is to try to forget it." I have tried to pull up those weeds from my mind, but they just won’t go. “Be careful little eyes what you see.”
Perhaps the reason violent crimes and ugly behavior have become so prevalent is that society feeds on them for entertainment. There are not many TV shows that offer good seeds. I don’t listen to a lot of popular music, but I am aware that much fits into the “weed” category. “Be careful little ears what you hear.”
Enough weedy stuff; I want to get back to good things we can store on our shelves. Solomon said, “My son, keep my words and store up my commands within you. Keep my commands and you will live; guard my teachings. . . write them on the tablet of your heart.”
I’m with TaterTot. Let’s sing that song over and over.
The Lord is my light and my salvation,—of whom shall I be afraid?
Monday, April 27, 2009
I Said So
It’s not easy being a parent. I’ve known that a long time, but I’m gaining further understanding with more experience. Today, I received one of those emails that people send to one another because it strikes a chord inside them (or perhaps because they just think it’s funny).
This one was “25 Things I Learned from my Mother,” and I laughed as I read it. Then, it hit me—I actually said many of those things. It reminded me of a Bill Cosby routine about the exchange between him as the father and his kids at bath and bed time. Why is Bill Cosby so funny? Some people are just funny, but it may also have to do with his understanding of common challenges that parents face and the even more common responses based upon exhaustion and frustration levels.
I was like many of the “modern” parents who originally believed that I could rationalize with my two-year-old with logic and kindness. Somewhere along the way, I found myself retreating to the more honest, “Because I’m the mom, and I said so.” If you are young and/or idealistic, you think that was a simpleminded, inadequate, and moronic answer which was totally ineffective in responding to an intelligent and responsible young person. However, after trying the modern way a few thousand times with four kids, I resorted to that much wiser answer—because I’m the mom, and I said so.
I realize that’s not an approach approved by the younger generation, but have you seen the results of modern child-rearing? Think about school shootings, drop-out rates, and unmannerly behaviors. Do you really think that a two- or eight- or twelve- or twenty-year-old is going to say (and I paraphrase Bill Cosby), “Why, thank you Mother Dear for your kind and wise words. I will be delighted to comply with your request now that I have full understanding of what you want and a realization that what you say is for my benefit.”
It’s easily understood why the current modern thinking would see “I said so” as archaic. Contemporary judgment seems to be in direct opposition to what Jesus said, "You will obey what I command,” and “I do exactly what my Father has commanded me.” Don’t you think one of the least favorite scriptures of kids is “Children, obey your parents”? Of course, as we grow up, we don’t like obeying God very much either. When we read or hear God’s instruction, we respond much like the above mentioned kids, stomp our little foot, and reply, “Why do I have to do that?”
I’m the Father, and I said so!
This one was “25 Things I Learned from my Mother,” and I laughed as I read it. Then, it hit me—I actually said many of those things. It reminded me of a Bill Cosby routine about the exchange between him as the father and his kids at bath and bed time. Why is Bill Cosby so funny? Some people are just funny, but it may also have to do with his understanding of common challenges that parents face and the even more common responses based upon exhaustion and frustration levels.
I was like many of the “modern” parents who originally believed that I could rationalize with my two-year-old with logic and kindness. Somewhere along the way, I found myself retreating to the more honest, “Because I’m the mom, and I said so.” If you are young and/or idealistic, you think that was a simpleminded, inadequate, and moronic answer which was totally ineffective in responding to an intelligent and responsible young person. However, after trying the modern way a few thousand times with four kids, I resorted to that much wiser answer—because I’m the mom, and I said so.
I realize that’s not an approach approved by the younger generation, but have you seen the results of modern child-rearing? Think about school shootings, drop-out rates, and unmannerly behaviors. Do you really think that a two- or eight- or twelve- or twenty-year-old is going to say (and I paraphrase Bill Cosby), “Why, thank you Mother Dear for your kind and wise words. I will be delighted to comply with your request now that I have full understanding of what you want and a realization that what you say is for my benefit.”
It’s easily understood why the current modern thinking would see “I said so” as archaic. Contemporary judgment seems to be in direct opposition to what Jesus said, "You will obey what I command,” and “I do exactly what my Father has commanded me.” Don’t you think one of the least favorite scriptures of kids is “Children, obey your parents”? Of course, as we grow up, we don’t like obeying God very much either. When we read or hear God’s instruction, we respond much like the above mentioned kids, stomp our little foot, and reply, “Why do I have to do that?”
I’m the Father, and I said so!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Hold the Lettuce
Greetings on the Lord’s Day, and a beautiful day it is. The wind is still strong, and I love to hear it blowing in the trees in the backyard. Since I was a little girl, I have always loved harmless wind and would take a blanket out to the porch swing, wrap up, and just sit, and swing, and listen. That’s one of my fondest childhood memories.
Continuing that memory, my husband and I have always enjoyed being on our front porch in an approaching thunderstorm and listening and feeling the wind and rain. We would scoot farther and farther down the porch to stay clear of the heavier rain. Our kids would often join us, and I think most of them still like to go outdoors and watch the rain and hear the wind.
Speaking of wind, I heard a funny story in Sunday School. Someone shared that he had taken a group of high school boys to a restaurant where there were college girls eating outside. The boys wanted to take their food outside, too, to a couple of tables next to the girls in the hope of impressing them. Unfortunately, one young man took a bite of his sandwich at the very moment a great gust of wind blew with the result that the lettuce covered in mayonnaise blew off his sandwich and over onto a girl’s back. Apologizing profusely, he no longer felt impressive. One of our other members commented that it gave new meaning to the words, “fast food.”
I began to wonder what it was about wind that I liked so much, and remembered that a bible teacher once explained that the word “wind” was the same word for “spirit” or “breath.” Remember when the day of Pentecost had come and a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where the disciples were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that came to rest on each of them. I always told the kids when I was teaching that the disciples looked like a birthday cake with candles that were lit—it was the birth of the church receiving the breath of life like Adam and like the early disciples.
You know, when the LORD God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, the man became a living being. Much later, following His resurrection, Jesus took a deep breath and breathed into them and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit."
Maybe that’s what I’m searching for when I hear the wind—a great move of the breath or spirit of God.
Continuing that memory, my husband and I have always enjoyed being on our front porch in an approaching thunderstorm and listening and feeling the wind and rain. We would scoot farther and farther down the porch to stay clear of the heavier rain. Our kids would often join us, and I think most of them still like to go outdoors and watch the rain and hear the wind.
Speaking of wind, I heard a funny story in Sunday School. Someone shared that he had taken a group of high school boys to a restaurant where there were college girls eating outside. The boys wanted to take their food outside, too, to a couple of tables next to the girls in the hope of impressing them. Unfortunately, one young man took a bite of his sandwich at the very moment a great gust of wind blew with the result that the lettuce covered in mayonnaise blew off his sandwich and over onto a girl’s back. Apologizing profusely, he no longer felt impressive. One of our other members commented that it gave new meaning to the words, “fast food.”
I began to wonder what it was about wind that I liked so much, and remembered that a bible teacher once explained that the word “wind” was the same word for “spirit” or “breath.” Remember when the day of Pentecost had come and a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where the disciples were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that came to rest on each of them. I always told the kids when I was teaching that the disciples looked like a birthday cake with candles that were lit—it was the birth of the church receiving the breath of life like Adam and like the early disciples.
You know, when the LORD God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, the man became a living being. Much later, following His resurrection, Jesus took a deep breath and breathed into them and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit."
Maybe that’s what I’m searching for when I hear the wind—a great move of the breath or spirit of God.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Voices
It happened again! I missed a day blogging. Sometimes my schedule just gets so crowded and, and . . . I know, excuses are like spoiled milk, they stink. Do you know how hard it is for me not to explain why I’m less than I expect of me?
You see, I have a secret. I think that you think that I am superwoman, super blogger, super Christian, super housekeeper, super wife, super mother, super grandmother, super cook, super this, and super that. When I see it in print, I realize how absurd it is. Even though I’m far from any of those things (and I actually realize that everyone knows that), I feel pressure to keep up the charade.
Why do I play with deceptions in my mind? My thoughts say that I’m a poor example of a Christian, mediocre wife, ineffective mother, second-rate grandmother, etc. Are those any more accurate? I remember someone saying “You’re not as good as you think you are, but you are not as bad as you’re afraid you are.” Even at my age, I’m just a work in progress, a sinner saved by grace.
Since I wrote last, a mother mentioned a concern about her young daughter talking to herself. My immediate response was that “We all do, just not necessarily out loud.” We live 24/7 in the empire of our minds with incessant communication called self talk. Wikipedia’s definition paraphrased of that is intrapersonal communication in which one becomes her own sender and receiver, and provides feedback to herself in an ongoing internal process. I find much of that internal exchange is negative.
Do many of those negative thoughts come from the kingdom of darkness? There’s a portion of a song about mentally fighting our Goliath’s called Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns, which says, “But the giant's calling out my name and he laughs at me, reminding me of all the times I've tried before and failed. The giant keeps on telling me, time and time again, 'Boy you'll never win! You’ll never win!'"
Fortunately, the song declares, “But the voice of truth tells me a different story,” and finishes with the best advice I have ever heard about self talk. So now, join with me and stand up and proclaim loudly,
“I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth.”
You see, I have a secret. I think that you think that I am superwoman, super blogger, super Christian, super housekeeper, super wife, super mother, super grandmother, super cook, super this, and super that. When I see it in print, I realize how absurd it is. Even though I’m far from any of those things (and I actually realize that everyone knows that), I feel pressure to keep up the charade.
Why do I play with deceptions in my mind? My thoughts say that I’m a poor example of a Christian, mediocre wife, ineffective mother, second-rate grandmother, etc. Are those any more accurate? I remember someone saying “You’re not as good as you think you are, but you are not as bad as you’re afraid you are.” Even at my age, I’m just a work in progress, a sinner saved by grace.
Since I wrote last, a mother mentioned a concern about her young daughter talking to herself. My immediate response was that “We all do, just not necessarily out loud.” We live 24/7 in the empire of our minds with incessant communication called self talk. Wikipedia’s definition paraphrased of that is intrapersonal communication in which one becomes her own sender and receiver, and provides feedback to herself in an ongoing internal process. I find much of that internal exchange is negative.
Do many of those negative thoughts come from the kingdom of darkness? There’s a portion of a song about mentally fighting our Goliath’s called Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns, which says, “But the giant's calling out my name and he laughs at me, reminding me of all the times I've tried before and failed. The giant keeps on telling me, time and time again, 'Boy you'll never win! You’ll never win!'"
Fortunately, the song declares, “But the voice of truth tells me a different story,” and finishes with the best advice I have ever heard about self talk. So now, join with me and stand up and proclaim loudly,
“I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth.”
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Received with Thanksgiving
Yesterday was my first time to participate in “Wordless Wednesday.” I don’t know who started it or why. I just saw it on Andrew’s blog; and you know us sheep, we just follow along, especially if we like the sheep ahead of us (and I really like Andy, uh, that is Andrew). Also, I have always applauded alliteration and try to use it as much as possible in my paltry pursuit of poem production (song writing). So I think I will go on with it today. It’s probably not original, but that’s all the more reason to follow. baa baa
I am going to do “Thankful Thursday” partly because they both start with “th”, partly because I think thankfulness is a crucial character condition, and partly because I didn’t have anything else particularly pressing on my plate. Although I have many more blessings than curses, It’s hard to know where to start—much harder than how to commence a complaint. That could be because I spend more time with the latter than the former. (Ya' think, DiNozzo?)
First, I’m thankful for the obvious: Jesus, my husband, my children and in-laws, my grandchildren, my sword, my health, my friends, my job and co-workers, my home, my car, my dining room table, and air-conditioning. Those are a given but I still don’t want to take any of them for granted. I really am thankful for them and could spend a hundred hours rehearsing how.
What else? I could make an extremely extensive enumeration of extras I have been blessed to experience.(heh, heh) In no particular order, I am thankful for trees with leaves that change colors, for songs that express what I’m feeling, for ebony Longaberger pottery, for oat cluster Cheerios, for a mind that still remembers many things (if not names), for a piano to play, for a newly-remodeled gorgeous bathroom, a king-sized bed, rain when needed and beautiful weather when not, vacations with family at the beach, Wendy, our new play gym, a large grassy lawn that has to be mowed too often, for bicycles and scooters and balls, squirrels that play in the backyard, and air-conditioning. (I know I said it twice). These are just the tip of the iceberg, but it’s a start for my first Thursday.
I Timothy 4 For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, because it is consecrated by the word of God and prayer.
Thank you, God
I am going to do “Thankful Thursday” partly because they both start with “th”, partly because I think thankfulness is a crucial character condition, and partly because I didn’t have anything else particularly pressing on my plate. Although I have many more blessings than curses, It’s hard to know where to start—much harder than how to commence a complaint. That could be because I spend more time with the latter than the former. (Ya' think, DiNozzo?)
First, I’m thankful for the obvious: Jesus, my husband, my children and in-laws, my grandchildren, my sword, my health, my friends, my job and co-workers, my home, my car, my dining room table, and air-conditioning. Those are a given but I still don’t want to take any of them for granted. I really am thankful for them and could spend a hundred hours rehearsing how.
What else? I could make an extremely extensive enumeration of extras I have been blessed to experience.(heh, heh) In no particular order, I am thankful for trees with leaves that change colors, for songs that express what I’m feeling, for ebony Longaberger pottery, for oat cluster Cheerios, for a mind that still remembers many things (if not names), for a piano to play, for a newly-remodeled gorgeous bathroom, a king-sized bed, rain when needed and beautiful weather when not, vacations with family at the beach, Wendy, our new play gym, a large grassy lawn that has to be mowed too often, for bicycles and scooters and balls, squirrels that play in the backyard, and air-conditioning. (I know I said it twice). These are just the tip of the iceberg, but it’s a start for my first Thursday.
I Timothy 4 For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, because it is consecrated by the word of God and prayer.
Thank you, God
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Watch!
I read in a friend’s note today that he heard that the world would be different tomorrow. I don’t know what that meant, and yet it is true every day. One day, houses stand with pretty flowers. The next day, all may be changed. I’m not a person who likes change. There is something comfortable about sameness, and I do like comfort. I want a mild temperature, shirts without tags, a certain genre/volume of music or silence, and to know the plan, especially the plan for the day. I'd also like to know the long-range plan.
I don’t think much about history, yet sometimes my gaze turns backward many centuries. Some countries have been in existence for thousands of years and some for a few. I consider all the far-reaching changes in those countries over human history. I think of the various empires: Babylonian, Persian, Greek, Roman, and German among others. They have risen and fallen. The United States has been here for less than 250 years, so we are relatively young. I wonder if we can last for thousands of years if Jesus waits.
The United States has been blessed as a nation I believe primarily because God was the Founder. Unfortunately, in less than 250 years, we have come to the place where we have moved away from Him. A few days after the attack of September 11, our leaders stood and sang “God Bless America.” Eight years later, our president reports that we are not a Christian nation. In Sunday School, we studied the book of Judges and learned the results of such choices.
So what kind of changes might we expect in our world? In our nation? I read today that the media reports that Christianity is no longer relevant. That media welcomed the Easter season with a funeral for ‘Christian America,’ and greeted the Christmas season by proclaiming it a holiday without Christ?
The blog I was reading then said that the day is soon coming when the percentage of true believing Christians in America will indeed drop by a tremendous amount. I was startled and bewildered to read that. Oh, surely not! I read on. . ."It won't be a decline of 50%, 60%, or even 70%. At the rapture, 100% of believers will turn up missing. And best of all, the decline won't take years to happen, it will occur in a blink of an eye." Then, I could agree with a smile.
I am reminded of Mark 13, No one knows that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come. It is like a man going away. . . and tells the one at the door to keep watch. Therefore, keep watch.
I don’t know how or what or when, but I do know who, so I’ll join Mark in exhorting, “I say to everyone: 'Watch'!”
I don’t think much about history, yet sometimes my gaze turns backward many centuries. Some countries have been in existence for thousands of years and some for a few. I consider all the far-reaching changes in those countries over human history. I think of the various empires: Babylonian, Persian, Greek, Roman, and German among others. They have risen and fallen. The United States has been here for less than 250 years, so we are relatively young. I wonder if we can last for thousands of years if Jesus waits.
The United States has been blessed as a nation I believe primarily because God was the Founder. Unfortunately, in less than 250 years, we have come to the place where we have moved away from Him. A few days after the attack of September 11, our leaders stood and sang “God Bless America.” Eight years later, our president reports that we are not a Christian nation. In Sunday School, we studied the book of Judges and learned the results of such choices.
So what kind of changes might we expect in our world? In our nation? I read today that the media reports that Christianity is no longer relevant. That media welcomed the Easter season with a funeral for ‘Christian America,’ and greeted the Christmas season by proclaiming it a holiday without Christ?
The blog I was reading then said that the day is soon coming when the percentage of true believing Christians in America will indeed drop by a tremendous amount. I was startled and bewildered to read that. Oh, surely not! I read on. . ."It won't be a decline of 50%, 60%, or even 70%. At the rapture, 100% of believers will turn up missing. And best of all, the decline won't take years to happen, it will occur in a blink of an eye." Then, I could agree with a smile.
I am reminded of Mark 13, No one knows that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come. It is like a man going away. . . and tells the one at the door to keep watch. Therefore, keep watch.
I don’t know how or what or when, but I do know who, so I’ll join Mark in exhorting, “I say to everyone: 'Watch'!”
Monday, April 20, 2009
A Vanishing Mist
This evening, we went to the funeral visitation of a man who in previous years was a wonderfully dear friend. We had shared some very treasured things and moments—we each had sons that were great friends, baseball teammates, and college roommates. Although the family had moved away a few years ago, the memories shared have kept them close to our hearts, regardless of the miles and the time span between.
It feels like our friend was too young to die, particularly since he was a few years younger than us. He was a special man to us—kind, personable, laughing, loving baseball, always happy to chat. We called him a “schmoozer” because he could talk so easily and freely to anyone. He gave his time and energy to serve on all kinds of boards and committees. He had a knack of running into important or interesting people, and soon they were his friends also.
Our friend was successful, prosperous, privileged. He was blessed with 2 children and with 4 young grandchildren (you have to be there to appreciate that) and had many years of living a wonderful life. He played some of the best golf courses, went on cruises with his family, and had season baseball tickets to his beloved Cardinals. But, in the end, all he had to take with him was his faith.
At a funeral home, I find myself face to face with priorities. I am reminded that we bring nothing into the world and take nothing out with us. Perhaps each of us should consider what we will leave behind. Were we a blessing to those around us? Did we show the way for others to find the path to eternal life? Did we help them when they needed help and encourage them when they needed an uplifting word?
I am also reminded of a verse in James 4, “You do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”
We are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. If we find a friend along the way, we are indeed blessed. We were blessed to know Dan.
It feels like our friend was too young to die, particularly since he was a few years younger than us. He was a special man to us—kind, personable, laughing, loving baseball, always happy to chat. We called him a “schmoozer” because he could talk so easily and freely to anyone. He gave his time and energy to serve on all kinds of boards and committees. He had a knack of running into important or interesting people, and soon they were his friends also.
Our friend was successful, prosperous, privileged. He was blessed with 2 children and with 4 young grandchildren (you have to be there to appreciate that) and had many years of living a wonderful life. He played some of the best golf courses, went on cruises with his family, and had season baseball tickets to his beloved Cardinals. But, in the end, all he had to take with him was his faith.
At a funeral home, I find myself face to face with priorities. I am reminded that we bring nothing into the world and take nothing out with us. Perhaps each of us should consider what we will leave behind. Were we a blessing to those around us? Did we show the way for others to find the path to eternal life? Did we help them when they needed help and encourage them when they needed an uplifting word?
I am also reminded of a verse in James 4, “You do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”
We are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. If we find a friend along the way, we are indeed blessed. We were blessed to know Dan.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Being Godly
I missed Saturday’s blogging time, but there was a good reason. I worked almost 17 hours. It was the first trip of the year for our program, and we did a lot. We met the kids between 7:30-8:00 am. The kids toured a part of the college, they boarded the bus, and we headed north. We picked up some more kids and left for a tour at EIU. We ate lunch at Arby’s and proceeded to another nearby college tour, a career talk at a nearby airport, a few games of bowling, and dinner at Ryan’s. We ended the day with a live musical theater production of Bye, Bye, Birdie and back home after midnight. Whew!
I was drained. However, the young members of the staff were more exhausted, so I felt better. Today, I’m trying to take it easy. My granddaughter asked why Grandpa and I were sitting in our recliners and dozing off. Quickly I answered her, “It’s the seventh day and we are following God’s lead. “Huh uh,” she sent back. So I explained how we like God had worked hard for the past six days and on the seventh day, He rested and so did we!
Tomorrow, I’ll try to be back with abstruse musings, but today considering it’s the seventh day, I’ll just be Godly.
I was drained. However, the young members of the staff were more exhausted, so I felt better. Today, I’m trying to take it easy. My granddaughter asked why Grandpa and I were sitting in our recliners and dozing off. Quickly I answered her, “It’s the seventh day and we are following God’s lead. “Huh uh,” she sent back. So I explained how we like God had worked hard for the past six days and on the seventh day, He rested and so did we!
Tomorrow, I’ll try to be back with abstruse musings, but today considering it’s the seventh day, I’ll just be Godly.
Friday, April 17, 2009
A Good Day
I am amazed, well surprised maybe. Since I am a bit cynical, I find myself astounded when things go well. Today I am thrilled because my staff and I went to a conference with several other programs like ours and the people there were so nice, knowledgeable, willing to share, and enthusiastic about their jobs. Now really, how many times do you come home from a meeting excited and eager to try what you learned? Some of this group had been together a few years ago, so I thought it would be fine; however, it was even better than I had envisioned.
Is that great or what! There are so often disappointments and/or mediocre happenings in my life that when something really good comes along, it just lifts my spirits and makes me smile. I know this was not a big thing in the great scheme of things, but it was an unanticipated blessing. That exposes a problem in me--being cynical. I find myself not expecting greatness. I often let past disappointments cloud my expectations, and those lowered expectations lead to lowered faith. In fact, the dictionary defines “cynical” as “unbelieving.” (Here is where I rebuke myself because I should know better.)
I know the scriptures teach that we are to fill our minds and meditate on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. I really don’t like admitting that I’ve not arrived. Well, that’s a better reason to keep practicing. One way to do that is to meditate on a verse, Ephesians 3:20 “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.”
All that being said, I had a very good day!
Is that great or what! There are so often disappointments and/or mediocre happenings in my life that when something really good comes along, it just lifts my spirits and makes me smile. I know this was not a big thing in the great scheme of things, but it was an unanticipated blessing. That exposes a problem in me--being cynical. I find myself not expecting greatness. I often let past disappointments cloud my expectations, and those lowered expectations lead to lowered faith. In fact, the dictionary defines “cynical” as “unbelieving.” (Here is where I rebuke myself because I should know better.)
I know the scriptures teach that we are to fill our minds and meditate on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. I really don’t like admitting that I’ve not arrived. Well, that’s a better reason to keep practicing. One way to do that is to meditate on a verse, Ephesians 3:20 “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.”
All that being said, I had a very good day!
Thursday, April 16, 2009
LIMS
I am convinced that one of the hardest things for a human to do is to care more about what someone else wants. I have watched people from the very young to the very old (not to mention looking in a mirror) and seen people adamant against one thing or another simply because it doesn’t please them. It is the, “If I don’t get my way, I’ll _____ (you fill in the blank)" mentality.
I remember being a small girl playing with girlfriends and inevitably one of us saying, “I’ll take my dolly and go home.” When I was a bit older and playing city softball, someone would say, “I’ll take my ball and go home.” We only had one ball, so that was a problem. I should mention when I say “city softball,” that doesn’t really describe our sandlot. I lived in a tiny town of about a hundred, and in the summer evenings, several people of various ages met at the school yard and played what we called scrub softball. That meant when a batter made an out, they went to the last place in the field and everyone else moved up one position. I’m sure we disagreed at times, but we needed the ball to stay.
I was at a meeting recently, and that mentality raised its ugly head. Someone said, “If you do that, I won’t be there.” Well, I rolled my eyes and sighed with righteous indignation for a minute or two. Then, I admitted to myself that I wanted to counter those words in exactly the same way. So, I had to repent again.
If there is any understanding to be found for our selfish attitudes, it might be that we are walking in the footsteps of Jesus’ chosen friends. In Mark 9, Jesus asked the twelve what they were quarreling about, “But they held their peace: for by the way they had disputed among themselves, who should be the greatest.” Luke gives two more instances of the same question—who matters most? Do you remember James and John’s mom coming to Jesus and asking if her sons could have the thrones next to his? Same old, same old—James, John, their mom, the other disciples, and me. LIMS (Looking in the mirror sighing).
I remember being a small girl playing with girlfriends and inevitably one of us saying, “I’ll take my dolly and go home.” When I was a bit older and playing city softball, someone would say, “I’ll take my ball and go home.” We only had one ball, so that was a problem. I should mention when I say “city softball,” that doesn’t really describe our sandlot. I lived in a tiny town of about a hundred, and in the summer evenings, several people of various ages met at the school yard and played what we called scrub softball. That meant when a batter made an out, they went to the last place in the field and everyone else moved up one position. I’m sure we disagreed at times, but we needed the ball to stay.
I was at a meeting recently, and that mentality raised its ugly head. Someone said, “If you do that, I won’t be there.” Well, I rolled my eyes and sighed with righteous indignation for a minute or two. Then, I admitted to myself that I wanted to counter those words in exactly the same way. So, I had to repent again.
If there is any understanding to be found for our selfish attitudes, it might be that we are walking in the footsteps of Jesus’ chosen friends. In Mark 9, Jesus asked the twelve what they were quarreling about, “But they held their peace: for by the way they had disputed among themselves, who should be the greatest.” Luke gives two more instances of the same question—who matters most? Do you remember James and John’s mom coming to Jesus and asking if her sons could have the thrones next to his? Same old, same old—James, John, their mom, the other disciples, and me. LIMS (Looking in the mirror sighing).
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Feeding our Faith
I just got home from a weekly church supper called Feed Your Faith and realize that there is just something about eating a meal with others that is very telling about that relationship. I find it wonderfully easy to eat with those that I love, even if they are three or four years old and my conversation goes something like this: “Sit down; Come on, try a bite of this; Sit down; I really think you will like that; Sit down; Please don’t blow into your straw; Sit down.” Okay, the meals are challenging, but I love them (both the kids and the meals).
Eating with a new pleasant person is also an amusing experience. We each try to use our best manners while seeking to engage in a getting-to-know-you conversation. Following such a meal, there is a degree of closeness that would not be there if we had just had a short meeting. I find that eating together often promotes a connection.
On the other side of the coin, it is difficult if not impossible for me to eat a meal with someone who elicits anger, annoyance, or downright dislike. I find it hard to swallow my food under those conditions. Maybe that’s where the term “hard to swallow” comes from. Fortunately, there aren’t too many people who affect me that way, or maybe I’m just not compelled to mingle with them at mealtime.
We just came through the Easter season and one of the major events saw Jesus in what we call the Last Supper. This was to be an enormously significant occasion as the new covenant was being established. Jesus was there with his best friends and even though thoughts of tomorrow were surely on his mind, he was with those he loved and could eat freely. Well, there was one glaring exception. While Judas had been a friend(?) for 3½ years and lived with him night and day, Jesus knew he was the betrayer. Judas left early and the meal was finished with singing a hymn.
You know, we call it the Last Supper, but when I think of that new covenant, we really we should call it the First Supper. Maybe someone like a da Vinci needs to paint a new masterpiece.
Eating with a new pleasant person is also an amusing experience. We each try to use our best manners while seeking to engage in a getting-to-know-you conversation. Following such a meal, there is a degree of closeness that would not be there if we had just had a short meeting. I find that eating together often promotes a connection.
On the other side of the coin, it is difficult if not impossible for me to eat a meal with someone who elicits anger, annoyance, or downright dislike. I find it hard to swallow my food under those conditions. Maybe that’s where the term “hard to swallow” comes from. Fortunately, there aren’t too many people who affect me that way, or maybe I’m just not compelled to mingle with them at mealtime.
We just came through the Easter season and one of the major events saw Jesus in what we call the Last Supper. This was to be an enormously significant occasion as the new covenant was being established. Jesus was there with his best friends and even though thoughts of tomorrow were surely on his mind, he was with those he loved and could eat freely. Well, there was one glaring exception. While Judas had been a friend(?) for 3½ years and lived with him night and day, Jesus knew he was the betrayer. Judas left early and the meal was finished with singing a hymn.
You know, we call it the Last Supper, but when I think of that new covenant, we really we should call it the First Supper. Maybe someone like a da Vinci needs to paint a new masterpiece.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Look and Reach
Today was back to work after four wonderful days off. It’s hard to go back to the dailyness of an 8-hour day after a luxurious time of sleeping in, eating when hungry, watching a little TV, and staying up as late as desired. I have discovered a little-known fact that there is a direct relationship between the number of days off and the difficulty in going back to work. The longer the vacation, the less I want it to end. You know what I mean—Mondays are a little challenging after two days off, but going back the day after Christmas break is far more formidable.
I should not murmur, because I have a wonderful job. My position is to help teens improve their lives by thinking about education beyond high school. We help them get prepared for what’s ahead by thinking about their future early and developing a larger perspective. Our motto is “Looking Forward, Reaching Higher.” Kids have no idea how fast those years will go and how soon they will be going into a new land.
I wonder if heaven looks down at us and finds that we look a lot like those kids. It would seem that God wants us to look ahead and prepare. Hebrews 11 says by faith Abraham, when called to go, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. His people were living by faith, saw the promises, and welcomed them from a distance. They were looking for a better country, a heavenly one. They were “Looking Forward, Reaching Higher.”
It takes some concerted effort to prepare for our spiritual future, both here and later. We have the scriptures and the Holy Spirit to lead us much like my job does with our teens, often with similar results and similar excuses like:
1) I’ve got plenty of time to think about that later;
2) I’m not good at memorizing or learning from a book;
3) I’d rather just enjoy myself right here, right now;
4) I don’t know why you keep bugging me about preparing for the future;
5) I’ll just wing it if some problem comes up.
We are often like the people Peter describes “In the last days scoffers will come, scoffing and following their own evil desires. They will say, Where is this 'coming' he promised? Ever since our fathers died, everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation." We think life will just continue on as it is (just like high schoolers); but there will be a day also like high school when the time is up, robes are provided, books are opened, and evaluations made.
I’m sure of it! We should be “Looking Forward, Reaching Higher.”
I should not murmur, because I have a wonderful job. My position is to help teens improve their lives by thinking about education beyond high school. We help them get prepared for what’s ahead by thinking about their future early and developing a larger perspective. Our motto is “Looking Forward, Reaching Higher.” Kids have no idea how fast those years will go and how soon they will be going into a new land.
I wonder if heaven looks down at us and finds that we look a lot like those kids. It would seem that God wants us to look ahead and prepare. Hebrews 11 says by faith Abraham, when called to go, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. His people were living by faith, saw the promises, and welcomed them from a distance. They were looking for a better country, a heavenly one. They were “Looking Forward, Reaching Higher.”
It takes some concerted effort to prepare for our spiritual future, both here and later. We have the scriptures and the Holy Spirit to lead us much like my job does with our teens, often with similar results and similar excuses like:
1) I’ve got plenty of time to think about that later;
2) I’m not good at memorizing or learning from a book;
3) I’d rather just enjoy myself right here, right now;
4) I don’t know why you keep bugging me about preparing for the future;
5) I’ll just wing it if some problem comes up.
We are often like the people Peter describes “In the last days scoffers will come, scoffing and following their own evil desires. They will say, Where is this 'coming' he promised? Ever since our fathers died, everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation." We think life will just continue on as it is (just like high schoolers); but there will be a day also like high school when the time is up, robes are provided, books are opened, and evaluations made.
I’m sure of it! We should be “Looking Forward, Reaching Higher.”
Monday, April 13, 2009
Ouch, my neck!
Monday, the day after. What a fun day yesterday, celebrating Resurrection Day! The kids and grandkids were mostly home. It’s interesting how even in a crowd, two missing are so noticeable. The 4-year-old was running a fever when she got up. Her mother, who had fixed several dishes for dinner, dressed both girls in their Easter dresses (you have to be a mother to understand that), loaded the car, brought the 6-year-old to church to find us, took food to our house, and went back home with the younger. Since two pregnant sister-in-laws were coming, Jen wanted no chance of passing along any childhood illness. Even with the 2 missing, it was a grand celebration.
Today, I feel a little like the disciples in Acts 1:10 who had watched in awe as Jesus left planet earth in a cloud. They just stood there staring in space as he was going. I think I can imagine a thought common to them—what now? That was a wonderful ride, but what do we do now? It was an amazing time. Our friend, our leader, our savior was arrested, beaten, crucified, rose from the dead, appeared many times in the following days, and now this. He just went up into the sky in a cloud. (Picture a group of people with their mouths open hurting their necks looking up in the sky for a long time.)
For me, it was a wonderful weekend, re-thinking the crucifixion and glorious resurrection and singing exuberant praises to God for his Son. Now I sit here looking off in space, trying to write in my blog, and wondering “What now?”
For the disciples, there suddenly appeared a couple of guys in white that re-focused them, “Why do you stand here looking into the sky?” they said. I wonder how long those people would have just stood there without the angels who nudged them. Why were they just standing there looking at the past? There was work to be done in His kingdom. He said that all authority had been given to Him, so they were to go and He would go with them.
I don’t see any angels here in my too-quiet kitchen, but I can almost hear that question, “Why are you just sitting there looking at the past?” There’s a future to be lived. There are words to be written. There are things to be done in the kingdom.
It’s great to pause and enjoy the blessings, but it hurts your neck to just stand and stare at the sky.
Today, I feel a little like the disciples in Acts 1:10 who had watched in awe as Jesus left planet earth in a cloud. They just stood there staring in space as he was going. I think I can imagine a thought common to them—what now? That was a wonderful ride, but what do we do now? It was an amazing time. Our friend, our leader, our savior was arrested, beaten, crucified, rose from the dead, appeared many times in the following days, and now this. He just went up into the sky in a cloud. (Picture a group of people with their mouths open hurting their necks looking up in the sky for a long time.)
For me, it was a wonderful weekend, re-thinking the crucifixion and glorious resurrection and singing exuberant praises to God for his Son. Now I sit here looking off in space, trying to write in my blog, and wondering “What now?”
For the disciples, there suddenly appeared a couple of guys in white that re-focused them, “Why do you stand here looking into the sky?” they said. I wonder how long those people would have just stood there without the angels who nudged them. Why were they just standing there looking at the past? There was work to be done in His kingdom. He said that all authority had been given to Him, so they were to go and He would go with them.
I don’t see any angels here in my too-quiet kitchen, but I can almost hear that question, “Why are you just sitting there looking at the past?” There’s a future to be lived. There are words to be written. There are things to be done in the kingdom.
It’s great to pause and enjoy the blessings, but it hurts your neck to just stand and stare at the sky.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Open and Empty
The word “gospel” is from a word meaning “good spell” or “Glad tidings; especially, the good news concerning Christ.” When you think of the good news of Resurrection Day, the result is nothing less than “WOW!”
The darkness leading up to that morning was appalling. The very light of the world had been snuffed out and locked in a prison of death behind a huge stone guarded by a legion of soldiers. The men who could carry His message were hiding in darkness behind locked doors terrorized by what they had seen.
Women, whose love and compassion habitually outweigh their wisdom, would let nothing stop them from honoring their Lord, even if all they could do was to give him a respectful burial. It mattered not to them that it was politically and religiously unpopular and physically difficult or dangerous. (Remember that huge stone and un-friendly soldiers.) Still, as women do, they thought with their hearts rather than their heads.
But, it was so dark since Jesus was gone. The light of the world was gone. Hope was gone. God was gone. Hope was gone, yes, but love was still alive. Laying despair aside, they still loved and that love would not be denied or restrained by fear. They needed to see Him, to fulfill one final act of love even in death.
If there weren’t enough difficulties, they experienced an earthquake near the tomb. Isn’t that like God? The challenge was really the answer. I suppose the earth shook when the angel kicked the stone open. (At least, I would have kicked it, if I were that angel.)
Suddenly, good news! The grave was open and empty! The light of the world rose even brighter. Can you visualize the emotional shock those women felt? That was better than the Red Sea opening. They couldn’t stop smiling. I imagine that Jesus couldn’t stop smiling, either. I hope he has been smiling ever since. I also hope because of the love of his welcoming committee that morning, he will be eager to come back for the rest of us.
The darkness leading up to that morning was appalling. The very light of the world had been snuffed out and locked in a prison of death behind a huge stone guarded by a legion of soldiers. The men who could carry His message were hiding in darkness behind locked doors terrorized by what they had seen.
Women, whose love and compassion habitually outweigh their wisdom, would let nothing stop them from honoring their Lord, even if all they could do was to give him a respectful burial. It mattered not to them that it was politically and religiously unpopular and physically difficult or dangerous. (Remember that huge stone and un-friendly soldiers.) Still, as women do, they thought with their hearts rather than their heads.
But, it was so dark since Jesus was gone. The light of the world was gone. Hope was gone. God was gone. Hope was gone, yes, but love was still alive. Laying despair aside, they still loved and that love would not be denied or restrained by fear. They needed to see Him, to fulfill one final act of love even in death.
If there weren’t enough difficulties, they experienced an earthquake near the tomb. Isn’t that like God? The challenge was really the answer. I suppose the earth shook when the angel kicked the stone open. (At least, I would have kicked it, if I were that angel.)
Suddenly, good news! The grave was open and empty! The light of the world rose even brighter. Can you visualize the emotional shock those women felt? That was better than the Red Sea opening. They couldn’t stop smiling. I imagine that Jesus couldn’t stop smiling, either. I hope he has been smiling ever since. I also hope because of the love of his welcoming committee that morning, he will be eager to come back for the rest of us.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
It was Good
Tomorrow is Good Friday. As a child, I thought that was a strange title for the day that a man named Jesus, whose birth we had celebrated a few months earlier, was nailed to a cross to die. It always made me sad to think that the Son of God was treated so badly when he came to our world. Why should He have to be killed? That Friday did not seem to be at all “good.”
And then, I read the bible. I learned that the day Jesus died was extraordinarily “good”--certainly not in the short term; but in his dying and subsequent resurrection, he became the most powerful authority in the universe. In Matthew 28:18 we are told that Jesus said, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.”
I learned by studying Genesis that God gave great authority to Adam; it was then handed over to Lucifer, the serpent, until that transgression, that debt was paid. In order to maintain any relationship with sinful man, God needed to cover them with garments of skin. Now garments of skin are not like wool sheared off a sheep that can grow back. There’s only one way to get a leather coat. It requires the death and blood of an innocent animal. (Like donating for a ham and egg breakfast--which animal would you rather be to make a donation, pig or chicken?)
So that is history in a nutshell: (Step 1) transfer authority on earth from God to man; (Step 2) authority kidnapped by serpent from man through sin; and (Step 3) restore authority through a paid ransom of God’s own blood from the body of his son. But before we could ever understand the great price for that last step, a fuzzy picture of step three would be seen over and over again.
In Exodus, we see that God began Step 3 in a plan for a nation of people who shared a blood covenant. God himself instructed them for Passover--to take a lamb, paint its blood as a covering over their doorways, and eat its broken body for strength to leave the servitude of cruel masters. For thousands of years, including yesterday and today, April 8 and 9, in 2009, that nation is still celebrating Passover. They celebrate lambs being killed for them.
Tomorrow, as Jesus’ kingdom people, we will celebrate God’s lamb being killed for us. In case we are slow to catch on, John 1:29 tells us directly that Jesus was “the Lamb of God.” God’s lamb was killed following his Passover meal in which he established the “new covenant.” This covenant also has the blood and the broken body of the lamb. Are you getting the picture of communion? Good Friday was the culmination of Passover, and it was wonderfully good--by far the very best day that history had seen up to then. It was step three.
But God wasn’t finished. Three days later, Jesus became like Aaron’s rod that was dead but sprouted, budded, blossomed, and produced almonds. He arose and walked out of the tomb with a new, never-ending life. The ransom was paid and step three was completed.
Christmas was incredible when God personally came to planet earth; Good Friday was astonishing when God personally paid a ransom for you and me; and Resurrection Day or Easter was awesome as the great God of the universe personally crowned his son Jesus King of Kings and Lord of Lords! Hallelujah!! Happy Good Friday.
And then, I read the bible. I learned that the day Jesus died was extraordinarily “good”--certainly not in the short term; but in his dying and subsequent resurrection, he became the most powerful authority in the universe. In Matthew 28:18 we are told that Jesus said, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.”
I learned by studying Genesis that God gave great authority to Adam; it was then handed over to Lucifer, the serpent, until that transgression, that debt was paid. In order to maintain any relationship with sinful man, God needed to cover them with garments of skin. Now garments of skin are not like wool sheared off a sheep that can grow back. There’s only one way to get a leather coat. It requires the death and blood of an innocent animal. (Like donating for a ham and egg breakfast--which animal would you rather be to make a donation, pig or chicken?)
So that is history in a nutshell: (Step 1) transfer authority on earth from God to man; (Step 2) authority kidnapped by serpent from man through sin; and (Step 3) restore authority through a paid ransom of God’s own blood from the body of his son. But before we could ever understand the great price for that last step, a fuzzy picture of step three would be seen over and over again.
In Exodus, we see that God began Step 3 in a plan for a nation of people who shared a blood covenant. God himself instructed them for Passover--to take a lamb, paint its blood as a covering over their doorways, and eat its broken body for strength to leave the servitude of cruel masters. For thousands of years, including yesterday and today, April 8 and 9, in 2009, that nation is still celebrating Passover. They celebrate lambs being killed for them.
Tomorrow, as Jesus’ kingdom people, we will celebrate God’s lamb being killed for us. In case we are slow to catch on, John 1:29 tells us directly that Jesus was “the Lamb of God.” God’s lamb was killed following his Passover meal in which he established the “new covenant.” This covenant also has the blood and the broken body of the lamb. Are you getting the picture of communion? Good Friday was the culmination of Passover, and it was wonderfully good--by far the very best day that history had seen up to then. It was step three.
But God wasn’t finished. Three days later, Jesus became like Aaron’s rod that was dead but sprouted, budded, blossomed, and produced almonds. He arose and walked out of the tomb with a new, never-ending life. The ransom was paid and step three was completed.
Christmas was incredible when God personally came to planet earth; Good Friday was astonishing when God personally paid a ransom for you and me; and Resurrection Day or Easter was awesome as the great God of the universe personally crowned his son Jesus King of Kings and Lord of Lords! Hallelujah!! Happy Good Friday.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Sisters
The proverbial “they” say you never miss what you’ve never had. I disagree. I miss having a sister. From what I can tell, sisters tend to have a love/hate relationship, and it appears that there are various stages of sisterhood through life. I have observed what must be a cosmic law that sisters vacillate from being very close to all-out war.
I also did not have a father, but I did have a brother six years older; therefore, I was never recognized as someone of worth. I was relegated to the position of car-washer or flashlight holder. I don’t remember tender moments but rather being teased, chased, and blamed. He married and moved out before we ever had the chance to become somewhat equals, and then I was a quasi-only child.
I have watched several generations of sisters and most of the time felt envy (occasionally gratefulness). My aunts, as they grew older and lived far apart, loved to go shopping together to buy matching dresses for the family reunion. The bond between them was strong and visible regardless of the distance of their homes.
I have heard my younger daughter describe how reassuring it was to walk into high school her first day with her senior older sister. However, I also remember squabbles between those two, to the point of moving one out of their shared room just for some peace. Now, grown, they are close friends. In my two granddaughters, ages 6 and 4, I see the extremes, but also see that they love having a continual playmate. How enviable, never to feel alone!
I think of a pair of sisters in the bible--Martha the hostess and Mary the worshipper. Those differences also led to a huge squabble and then to the unthinkable--accusing Jesus, the Messiah, of not caring about her. “Martha, Martha” was his response. When I taught that bible story, I would have the class think of all the ways Jesus could have said her name. What was his tone? Whatever it was, he told her that Mary’s way was better; but he spoke in such a way that a couple of chapters later, Martha was still serving (rather than using the Carol response of just sitting down and letting them go hungry). He was and still is a great communicator.
I have been extravagantly blessed by so many people and things in my life that there really is no room for complaints. Yet, I would like to have had a sister.
I also did not have a father, but I did have a brother six years older; therefore, I was never recognized as someone of worth. I was relegated to the position of car-washer or flashlight holder. I don’t remember tender moments but rather being teased, chased, and blamed. He married and moved out before we ever had the chance to become somewhat equals, and then I was a quasi-only child.
I have watched several generations of sisters and most of the time felt envy (occasionally gratefulness). My aunts, as they grew older and lived far apart, loved to go shopping together to buy matching dresses for the family reunion. The bond between them was strong and visible regardless of the distance of their homes.
I have heard my younger daughter describe how reassuring it was to walk into high school her first day with her senior older sister. However, I also remember squabbles between those two, to the point of moving one out of their shared room just for some peace. Now, grown, they are close friends. In my two granddaughters, ages 6 and 4, I see the extremes, but also see that they love having a continual playmate. How enviable, never to feel alone!
I think of a pair of sisters in the bible--Martha the hostess and Mary the worshipper. Those differences also led to a huge squabble and then to the unthinkable--accusing Jesus, the Messiah, of not caring about her. “Martha, Martha” was his response. When I taught that bible story, I would have the class think of all the ways Jesus could have said her name. What was his tone? Whatever it was, he told her that Mary’s way was better; but he spoke in such a way that a couple of chapters later, Martha was still serving (rather than using the Carol response of just sitting down and letting them go hungry). He was and still is a great communicator.
I have been extravagantly blessed by so many people and things in my life that there really is no room for complaints. Yet, I would like to have had a sister.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Can You Hear Me
There are so many thoughts competing for attention today as I sit down to write in my blog journal. Sometimes I have much clarity in my thought life and can jump on my soapbox to declare the word of Carol; but at other times, there are numerous whispers, pointing out issues of notice or concern. Some are happy, some are actions to be taken, and some are nagging dreads that hover over in the section of my mind that is reserved for worrying. Those last ones are like little black blobs that have some direct connection to an area in my stomach; and as they rise up, I feel them physically.
My son, a pastor, is preaching a series of sermons on prayer called “Can You Hear Me Now?” As I think about that effective TV commercial, I agree that it is a fabulous question about prayer. Whenever life is going along smoothly, I don’t ask the question. My feelings (which are always reliable--not) suggest that God must be hearing me and surely goodness and mercy are truly following me just like in Psalm 23.
But when the little black blobs rumble, the question immediately manifests, “Can you hear me now? Are you there? Anyone?” I am keenly aware that worrying is not on the God-approved list of activities as ten times in the New Testament, we are told not to. How about if I reframe it and call it “anxiety” rather than worry? Nope, still not on the approved list--Philippians 4:6 “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”
Okay, I can make my requests about those black blobs, but they are out of my control. God, can you hear me now? Is there anything I can do to bring you around to my way of thinking? Can I badger you? Can I make a deal? Can I threaten? Can I twist your mighty arm to convince you? I can just hear you saying, “You’re kidding, right?” And, I guess I am, but those thoughts are there and very real, especially when I am afraid. Oh, I didn’t want to use that word. I didn’t want to call it “fear.” That sounds so much like un-faith. Sigh! And there we are, back in the Gethsemane garden choosing “my will” or “thy will” and apprehensive that it won’t be “my will.” It all comes down to that.
“I have de-ci-ded to follow. . .” as the song says; so, all there is to do is finish the commercial. “Can you hear me now? Good!”
My son, a pastor, is preaching a series of sermons on prayer called “Can You Hear Me Now?” As I think about that effective TV commercial, I agree that it is a fabulous question about prayer. Whenever life is going along smoothly, I don’t ask the question. My feelings (which are always reliable--not) suggest that God must be hearing me and surely goodness and mercy are truly following me just like in Psalm 23.
But when the little black blobs rumble, the question immediately manifests, “Can you hear me now? Are you there? Anyone?” I am keenly aware that worrying is not on the God-approved list of activities as ten times in the New Testament, we are told not to. How about if I reframe it and call it “anxiety” rather than worry? Nope, still not on the approved list--Philippians 4:6 “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”
Okay, I can make my requests about those black blobs, but they are out of my control. God, can you hear me now? Is there anything I can do to bring you around to my way of thinking? Can I badger you? Can I make a deal? Can I threaten? Can I twist your mighty arm to convince you? I can just hear you saying, “You’re kidding, right?” And, I guess I am, but those thoughts are there and very real, especially when I am afraid. Oh, I didn’t want to use that word. I didn’t want to call it “fear.” That sounds so much like un-faith. Sigh! And there we are, back in the Gethsemane garden choosing “my will” or “thy will” and apprehensive that it won’t be “my will.” It all comes down to that.
“I have de-ci-ded to follow. . .” as the song says; so, all there is to do is finish the commercial. “Can you hear me now? Good!”
Monday, April 6, 2009
Cookies
A smiling lady came into my office today and offered me a little plastic bag of homemade cookies. In the bag was a friendly little note stating “Jesus is alive and came to set us free from sin.” The cookies were wonderful, and so unexpected. I don’t know who she was or where she came from. She appeared, gave me the gift, said “God bless you,” and then disappeared.
What a feeling it left inside me, and I am still amazed at that gift. Some one or ones took the time to plan, bake cookies, sort them, put them into little bags, prepare a little gospel note, and deliver them to our offices. I am humbled by their benevolence.
Yesterday, in the Rock Group Sunday School class, we watched a part of a video made from the book of Matthew--the part showing the trial, beating, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus. One little scene particularly spoke to me. It said that from the 6th hour to the 9th hour darkness came over the land. Then, Jesus cried out to God in a loud voice to ask why He was forsaken. (Don’t you think God had to turn his face away from our sins that his Son carried on his body?)
Anyway, I was drawn to the statement that when Jesus cried out, someone standing there immediately ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a stick, and offered it to Jesus to drink. That someone went against everyone else there in choosing to help Jesus. That one couldn’t change the circumstances. He couldn’t do everything. But, he could do something!
Just like the lady who visited our offices today--she couldn’t do everything to spread the gospel to our world or even our town. She couldn’t do everything. But, she could do something. Would people be receptive to her? Would they frown, criticize, and reject her? Maybe, but she could do something.
What if each of us did something?
What a feeling it left inside me, and I am still amazed at that gift. Some one or ones took the time to plan, bake cookies, sort them, put them into little bags, prepare a little gospel note, and deliver them to our offices. I am humbled by their benevolence.
Yesterday, in the Rock Group Sunday School class, we watched a part of a video made from the book of Matthew--the part showing the trial, beating, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus. One little scene particularly spoke to me. It said that from the 6th hour to the 9th hour darkness came over the land. Then, Jesus cried out to God in a loud voice to ask why He was forsaken. (Don’t you think God had to turn his face away from our sins that his Son carried on his body?)
Anyway, I was drawn to the statement that when Jesus cried out, someone standing there immediately ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a stick, and offered it to Jesus to drink. That someone went against everyone else there in choosing to help Jesus. That one couldn’t change the circumstances. He couldn’t do everything. But, he could do something!
Just like the lady who visited our offices today--she couldn’t do everything to spread the gospel to our world or even our town. She couldn’t do everything. But, she could do something. Would people be receptive to her? Would they frown, criticize, and reject her? Maybe, but she could do something.
What if each of us did something?
Saturday, April 4, 2009
2 Crowns
Tomorrow is Palm Sunday. These words bring vivid memories of children walking down aisles of churches waving palm branches and singing at the top of their lungs, “Hosanna, to the son of David.” Hosanna is a “shout of fervent and worshipful praise.” It’s an inspirational word to say, or shout, or sing. “Hosanna to the King.” Try it!
Looking beyond that, it is a paramount example of human flakiness. One day the crowd was shouting “Hosanna” to King Jesus, waving palm branches and welcoming him as he came to Jerusalem; and a few days later, the same crowd was clamoring “Crucify” to a prisoner between two thieves. The crowd kept in their hands two crowns—a royal crown and a crown of thorns. How is that possible? How could intelligent persons be so fickle, so irresolute? I would never be guilty of that. Yeah right, me and Peter!
Or, would I? Do I carry two? Do I carry Palm Sunday crowns every Sunday? Do I put on my best, paint a smile to hide a frowning heart, and say churchy words for an hour to others who are likewise prepared? Do I hold up a shiny royal crown and sing loudly, “Majesty, worship His Majesty,” and leave, pleased that I have satisfied the minimum weekly requirements of a Christian? Then, do I spend the rest of the week brandishing an ugly crown of thorns, dispensing unkind judgments on this neighbor or that co-worker or even my children.
So what was happening on that Palm Sunday in the great celebration? The people had enormous expectations for their new king. Bible Gateway.com (one of my favorite sites) says Hosanna in those times meant, “Save now.” That’s what they sought—a powerful king to save now, to deliver them from the tyranny of their troubles today. They weren’t looking for an eternal king to love and serve with all their hearts.
This Palm Sunday, what am I looking for? Let me check my hands to see if I carry two crowns. The Gospel of Luke asks, “When King Jesus comes back, will he find faith on the earth?" Will he?
Looking beyond that, it is a paramount example of human flakiness. One day the crowd was shouting “Hosanna” to King Jesus, waving palm branches and welcoming him as he came to Jerusalem; and a few days later, the same crowd was clamoring “Crucify” to a prisoner between two thieves. The crowd kept in their hands two crowns—a royal crown and a crown of thorns. How is that possible? How could intelligent persons be so fickle, so irresolute? I would never be guilty of that. Yeah right, me and Peter!
Or, would I? Do I carry two? Do I carry Palm Sunday crowns every Sunday? Do I put on my best, paint a smile to hide a frowning heart, and say churchy words for an hour to others who are likewise prepared? Do I hold up a shiny royal crown and sing loudly, “Majesty, worship His Majesty,” and leave, pleased that I have satisfied the minimum weekly requirements of a Christian? Then, do I spend the rest of the week brandishing an ugly crown of thorns, dispensing unkind judgments on this neighbor or that co-worker or even my children.
So what was happening on that Palm Sunday in the great celebration? The people had enormous expectations for their new king. Bible Gateway.com (one of my favorite sites) says Hosanna in those times meant, “Save now.” That’s what they sought—a powerful king to save now, to deliver them from the tyranny of their troubles today. They weren’t looking for an eternal king to love and serve with all their hearts.
This Palm Sunday, what am I looking for? Let me check my hands to see if I carry two crowns. The Gospel of Luke asks, “When King Jesus comes back, will he find faith on the earth?" Will he?
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Rain Issues
Several times today I checked the computer weather radar. I have done that for years for a couple of reasons. First, being a farmer’s wife requires it. Secondly, baseball and softball games and practices also rise and fall with weather. Don’t assume that the official rain watcher always wants it not to rain. It is “timing” that decides whether to pray for clear skies or rain.
For the farming thing, see if you can follow this: in the late winter we want it to rain to get the underground water table up. Then, in spring, we want it not to rain so we can get the seeds planted in optimally dry soil and the plants will send the roots deep. Then, we want it to rain just the right amount to allow the seeds to spring up and grow. We want it not to rain too much or the seeds will drown or rot. But, we need it to rain about an inch a week through June, July, and August. Then we want it not to rain, so we can get into dry fields to harvest the grain without making ruts in them. Then, we want it to rain to get the water table up.
Now, for the ball things; we want it not to rain so we can practice on the diamonds. Then, if we have too many games in a row, we want it to rain because our pitchers need rest. Then we want it not to rain so we can play. We want it to rain to keep the grass green and the dust down, but not too close to game time.
Thinking beyond those, it occurs to me just how critical water is. Our bodies are about 60% water, and much of our lives, health, hygiene, and environment totally rest on our water supply. How do we react to a small lack of water? What if it is a great lack such as a drought? I remember studying about the “dust bowl” of the 1930’s and famines in Africa. I remember reading that Elijah told King Ahab it would not rain for 3 ½ years and it didn’t.
A couple of other scriptures come to mind. As the deer pants for water, so my soul pants for you, O God. And, blessed are those who thirst for righteousness. Do I seek God with the same intensity and passion as I seek a drink when really, really thirsty?
Tonight I have a mixture of issues--baseball needs rest and softball needs to practice. I need to go get a drink and pray for rain on one field and not the other. Sigh!
For the farming thing, see if you can follow this: in the late winter we want it to rain to get the underground water table up. Then, in spring, we want it not to rain so we can get the seeds planted in optimally dry soil and the plants will send the roots deep. Then, we want it to rain just the right amount to allow the seeds to spring up and grow. We want it not to rain too much or the seeds will drown or rot. But, we need it to rain about an inch a week through June, July, and August. Then we want it not to rain, so we can get into dry fields to harvest the grain without making ruts in them. Then, we want it to rain to get the water table up.
Now, for the ball things; we want it not to rain so we can practice on the diamonds. Then, if we have too many games in a row, we want it to rain because our pitchers need rest. Then we want it not to rain so we can play. We want it to rain to keep the grass green and the dust down, but not too close to game time.
Thinking beyond those, it occurs to me just how critical water is. Our bodies are about 60% water, and much of our lives, health, hygiene, and environment totally rest on our water supply. How do we react to a small lack of water? What if it is a great lack such as a drought? I remember studying about the “dust bowl” of the 1930’s and famines in Africa. I remember reading that Elijah told King Ahab it would not rain for 3 ½ years and it didn’t.
A couple of other scriptures come to mind. As the deer pants for water, so my soul pants for you, O God. And, blessed are those who thirst for righteousness. Do I seek God with the same intensity and passion as I seek a drink when really, really thirsty?
Tonight I have a mixture of issues--baseball needs rest and softball needs to practice. I need to go get a drink and pray for rain on one field and not the other. Sigh!
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Psalm 91:1
Some years ago, my Sunday School class was studying one of my favorites--Psalm 91. If you haven’t read it lately, pick up your sword, turn to the very middle, and you should be in Psalms. Find number 91. It starts so gently. It begins with a choice, “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High.” Where you choose to dwell is up to you. You either dwell under the Lordship of the Most High or you don’t. “Dwell” speaks to me of a place of living, sleeping, eating, spending time.
Some people just visit the Most High; some on Sunday mornings, some on Christmas or Easter, and some for weddings or funerals. They may intend to move their dwelling over there later when they are older and finished with the “I did it my way.”(Sorry, I drifted into a Frank Sinatra/Elvis song).
But for me, there are too many hard spots in life just to visit. I need to dwell there, night and day. My life, like everyone, has ups and downs. “Sometimes ups outnumber the downs, but not in Nottingham.” (More drifting; this time to Disney’s Robin Hood). Anyway, my life has brought enough downs that I need the Most High to help. Sometimes it’s my friends that are having downs; sometimes it’s my family running into a down; and sometimes, it’s me. In any case, I need to be close enough to the Most High so that I can send up an SOS. However, I do want to say that my friends, family, and I all have had some wonderful ups, and I want to be close enough to the Most High to say, “Thank you.”
Sometimes, I just like to go to the throne and do what Psalm 91 says next, “. . .rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” Say it with me slowly, “r- e-s-t.” Do you get tired and weary, too? And hot? Resting in that shadow makes me think of the Israelites wandering through the hot desert while being shielded by a cloud of protection from the heat. Years ago, I went to a baseball tournament in a nearby town on a very hot day. There was no cloud of protection; no shadow; no shade; no wind. There was also no rest. But this verse is the opposite of that and makes me think of sitting under a palm tree enjoying a cool, gentle breeze off the ocean. Now that’s what I call r-e-s-t!
Speaking of rest, I think I’ll go do that. I’ll tell you the “rest” of the story later.
Some people just visit the Most High; some on Sunday mornings, some on Christmas or Easter, and some for weddings or funerals. They may intend to move their dwelling over there later when they are older and finished with the “I did it my way.”(Sorry, I drifted into a Frank Sinatra/Elvis song).
But for me, there are too many hard spots in life just to visit. I need to dwell there, night and day. My life, like everyone, has ups and downs. “Sometimes ups outnumber the downs, but not in Nottingham.” (More drifting; this time to Disney’s Robin Hood). Anyway, my life has brought enough downs that I need the Most High to help. Sometimes it’s my friends that are having downs; sometimes it’s my family running into a down; and sometimes, it’s me. In any case, I need to be close enough to the Most High so that I can send up an SOS. However, I do want to say that my friends, family, and I all have had some wonderful ups, and I want to be close enough to the Most High to say, “Thank you.”
Sometimes, I just like to go to the throne and do what Psalm 91 says next, “. . .rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” Say it with me slowly, “r- e-s-t.” Do you get tired and weary, too? And hot? Resting in that shadow makes me think of the Israelites wandering through the hot desert while being shielded by a cloud of protection from the heat. Years ago, I went to a baseball tournament in a nearby town on a very hot day. There was no cloud of protection; no shadow; no shade; no wind. There was also no rest. But this verse is the opposite of that and makes me think of sitting under a palm tree enjoying a cool, gentle breeze off the ocean. Now that’s what I call r-e-s-t!
Speaking of rest, I think I’ll go do that. I’ll tell you the “rest” of the story later.
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