Practice What I Preach

It’s been a while since I’ve sat down to blog, but you are all under the same tyranny, I’m sure—the tyranny of the urgent. We have been in bible school this week, and while I love it, it does take time and preparation. And, of course, the preparation takes time, and we have to eat afterwards, and it’s late when we get home, etc., etc. (excuses, excuses)

Anyway, it’s my assignment to tell the bible story lesson at each session. The Rock Group, my young adults’ Sunday School Class, has or was volunteered to be the drama group portraying the lesson as I tell it. We have been teaching parables to the little people that are attending.

Sunday night, we studied the parable of the sower or maybe better named the parable of the 4 soils. Jesus told the story that a sower went out to sow a crop. Some seeds fell along the hard path which would not allow for any growth, but rather the birds came along and ate the seeds. The path was just the same as before getting the seeds.

Some seeds fell on rocky soil and sprang up quickly; but since the soil was so shallow, when heat came along, the plants with no roots quickly disintegrated. The soil was the same as before.

Some seeds fell among thorns and weeds and also sprang up, but they were quickly choked out since they could get no moisture or nutrients. The soil remained the same.

But some seeds fell on good soil. Roots went down and plants grew up and prospered, even 100 times as much as planted.

Jesus explained the parable. The seeds are God’s word and the soils are the hearts of the hearers. Some hearers’ hearts are hard and they do not retain any of the wisdom and quickly forget what they heard and stay the same. Some hearts are like the stony soil that have no depth, and when any hardships come, the words quickly die in them and the hearts remain the same. Some hearts are full of thorns like worries of life, busyness, and selfish desires, and when they hear, other thoughts are too strong and strangle the wisdom so they stay the same. But there are some hearts that listen to God’s word and seek to obey it and give it priority. Then the Word can multiply greatly.

I said all that to say that even though I was teaching that very lesson, my heart was leaning the way of the “busyness” of the thorns. I need to practice what I preach (be good soil).

Father's Day Portrait

Sunday was Father’s Day, and although it was a hectically busy time for our family, we were still planning to get together for a few hours, to eat our second try at smoked brisket and ribs, and to catch up on one another’s lives.

As the matriarch of this dynasty, I was, of course, eager to gather my chicks to see first hand that everyone was well (and as happy as could be expected). I should mention, too, that as matriarch, I carry the title of “Grandma Dear” to five grandchildren—ages 7 months through 7 years. Seeing them is certainly one of the leading sources of joy in such times.

Another lasting source of joy is the photos that occasionally happen when all the grandkids are together. Grandmothers love pictures, particularly whole-family portraits or pictures of their grandchildren all together. With such, Grandma Dear can keep the memory fresh in her mind and can enjoy it over and over.

Father’s Day would be a perfect opportunity to get such a photo. Babies grow so quickly and change so much that first year, that each new stage is almost like seeing a child traded in for a larger, more mobile model. Our two babies are like that—one is now sitting up with a little help and the other is crawling and almost walking. It was definitely time for a new group picture.

As we were beginning to finish up the smoked meat and fixings, I decided to “line up” the little ones and take THE picture. I put one in a walker, had the older three kneel down around the walker, and then have the almost-walking baby stand holding on to the walker and to the 7-year-old’s hand. How hard could this be?

The answer is “very.” I couldn’t get the older ones to stay put. The youngest in the walker began to cry. The almost-walking one took up the wail and in a flash, all were out of sorts—not a good thing for a memorable group picture. I pointed my camera and snap, I gave it my best shot.


Maybe Labor Day.

Disappointment & Opportunity Wasted

Well, I have to tell you, I am SO disappointed in myself. When I hear the term “follow your dreams,” I nod and acknowledge that I have a big dream to be a songwriter. I have written a few songs and lyrics for a musical based upon the Bible story of Ruth. My youngest (the musician) and I even submitted one to the American Idol song contest a couple of years ago (of course, we submitted in the last 10 minutes of the contest which was probably why it didn’t win).

Anyway, yesterday, I was in the perfect place with the perfect surroundings and had the perfect opportunity to write a song—one that would be enjoyed by thousands or millions and sung for many years to come. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that will most assuredly never ever again present itself. It was perfect and I was ready.

I was sitting on the campus of Belmont University on a street in Nashville, Tennessee (hours away from the small town where I live). There was no one around to distract me. The sun was shining, and a gentle breeze was blowing. I was ready. I had my notepad, my pen, and an intense desire to create. How many songs have been written on a street in Nashville? Thousands? Millions, maybe? So I was ready.

My program had taken a group of kids on a field trip to Nashville in a tour bus, and they were all off touring the university where so many famous people have graduated. This was my time! This was my gift. I was about to join the ranks of scores of other Nashville songwriters to have a song written in Music City. I was ready.

I could almost burst into the song that our youngest sang at a state talent competition from the musical, Jeckyll and Hyde,

♫ “This is the moment! This is the day,
When I send all my doubts and demons
On their way!
Every endeavor, I have made - ever -
Is coming into play,
Is here and now - today!

This is the moment, This is the time,
When the momentum and the moment
Are in rhyme!

Give me this moment
This precious chance
I'll gather up my past
And make some sense at last!

This is the moment, When all I've done -
All the dreaming, Scheming and screaming, become one!
This is the day - See it sparkle and shine,
When all I've lived for becomes mine!

This is the moment - My final test -
Destiny beckoned, I never reckoned second best!
When I look back, I will always recall,
Moment for moment,
This was the moment,
The greatest moment Of them all!”

Wow, what a great song!! Now it was my turn; I was ready. I tapped my pen on the notepad and began to write. I stopped, tapped my pen again, and waited. NOTHING! I GOT NOTHING! I jotted down a few words, crossed them out, jotted again, changed a word here and there, tore out the page, and tossed it.

For some time I sat there, pen in hand, READY. And I sat. And tapped. And sat. And tapped. As I look at the words of the song above, this was not the moment.

Solar Systems

Wouldn’t it be enlightening to sit on a cloud above our small area of the globe and, for a little while, view the complexity of the lives of the people there? Each is like a unique little solar system with a variety of people revolving around it and circumstances moving across it. Even a bit of understanding of another’s world can go a long way in understanding that person.

I confess that often I get so focused upon my own world that I forget or neglect to give thought to others. Still, I’ve noticed that I may meet a friend and find her smiling and pleasant one day; yet, a few days later, may find her downcast. “Moody,” I conclude (self-righteously).

Oh, I know people may be moody because of hormone levels, lack of caffeine, no Mountain Dew, or maybe for no obvious reason other than getting up on the wrong side of the bed (whatever that means). More likely, however, is that circumstances of storms, droughts, or meteor showers have attacked their world.

Women do not have a corner on the moodiness market. The male species, too, has storms and droughts in their worlds, although they seem to hide the source a little more (almost to a fault). Occasionally, they may unknowingly offer a few words that give a clue to their secret inner fears.

Moods, both male and female are, I believe, the visible manifestation of the mind, which just happens to be the place where our daily battleground is located. That in no way makes the battleground less real. Unfortunately, I rarely recognize that reality. Instead, I see my battlefield “out there” in my outer space. It is, however, in my inner space within the confines of my mind where I rehearse the “what if” and the “I remember” and the “it’s never going to get any better” thoughts.

When another’s world collides with mine, that person immediately steps into the role of my enemy on my mental battlefield. I replay the incidents or words over and over in my mind, arming myself for a battle. Phrases like “I should have said…” or “who do they think…” fill my mind while I prepare for a fight (or a pity party).

I wish I could just as quickly remember that scriptures teach my “struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the…powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil…”

Those powers of darkness so cleverly disguise themselves that I allow anger, resentment, envy, and hurt feelings against some person to take center stage. Quickly, I arm myself to fight the wrong enemy and begin to defend my world, not from the actual forces that seek to destroy it, but from the puppet used by the real enemy.

On a more positive note, the scriptures also teach that “times of refreshing may come from the Lord.” Those times, also evident in the mind, present wonderful times of rest, strengthening, preparation, and a break from moodiness. Don’t you love times of peace in your world? Don’t you love to see someone else’s world experience that refreshing?

In intimate conversations lately, I have sat on a cloud and had glimpses of friends’ worlds and their battlegrounds. Each one has a variety of persons like planets circling their world. Some add strength to their universe while others drain strength from it. I have learned of storms afflicting their world, as well as droughts and quakes. I have had a peek at their times of refreshing. From those glimpses, I have gained understanding—of them and of me.

♫ “Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus going on before.
Christ, the royal Master, leads against the foe;
Forward into battle see his banners go!
Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus going on before.”

Free Indeed?

Last Saturday, the program I work for took a group of middle school kids to St. Louis for the day. We do field trips in the summer so our participants can see and experience life beyond our small, rural world and can “look forward and reach higher” (our motto).

As part of that trip, we attended a live musical theater called “Big River.” It was the story of Huckleberry Finn told in music. I learned that the music was written by Roger Miller (if you know that name, you are telling your age).

If you remember, the classic novel was set around the Mississippi River before the Civil War and dealt with the issue of slavery. It was difficult for me to mentally resolve that since only a few decades earlier, our young country had declared that, “all men are created EQUAL, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, LIBERTY, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Yet, a terrible civil war was looming over a part of the country living in opposition to what it had declared. People were treating men, women, and children as property to be bought and sold.

The musical allowed us to step into the shoes of characters and feel a bit of their life challenges. I don’t pretend to be conversant with literary meaning, but I came away realizing that there were different kinds of slavery portrayed. Some were based upon race; some were based upon life circumstances beyond one’s control; and some were based upon one’s own life choices.

Big Jim was a slave in chains, sold and torn from his family. Big Jim was willing to risk everything to be free. Huck was a slave in unseen chains that came from a difficult childhood with an drunken, abusive father and with a society that rejected the result of that childhood. I don’t believe Huck realized he wasn’t free. A couple of other characters were slaves to a sleazy lifestyle they had chosen for themselves, and they had no interest in being free from it.

I am aware that we all watch life through our own particular filters, and my filters seek to see a larger picture. From the musical, I see that just like our young country, which declared a belief in liberty for all and yet were living the opposite, countries and individuals today declare one thing yet live another. Politicians declare, but once elected often fail to deliver on those declarations. Also, it seems that we as a nation, although declaring our dependence upon our God at the beginning, are seeking to disavow that declaration.

While most of us know nothing of the horrendous life of slavery, I do see that, in a sense, we all wear chains of one kind or another from the past. Some we have put upon ourselves through bad choices and some were thrust upon us by circumstances beyond our control. I am so thankful for Jesus’ words when He said he had been sent “to proclaim freedom.” Also, he promised, “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” John 8:36

May we all be free indeed!

♫ I have lived in the darkness for so long
I am waitin' for the light to shine
Far beyond horizons I have seen
Beyond the things I've been
Beyond the dreams I've dreamed
Are the things I've done
In fact each and every one
Are the way that I was taught to run

I am waitin' for the light to shine
I am waitin' for the light to shine
I have lived in the darkness for so long
I'm waitin' for the light to shine. ♫
Roger Miller from "Big River"

Deer Me!

Today had a most peculiar start. I headed for work as usual and made my way across town. As I turned onto the asphalt road that leads to the parking lot at the college where I work, I saw an SUV that looked much like one belonging to a co-worker in my office. It was stopped oddly on the wrong side of the road.

First my thought was that my friend had stopped to talk to me. I rolled my window down, but when I saw the driver, it was a young woman I did not know. I started to drive on, but there was this thing lying unmoving in the middle of my side of the road.

It looked like a large furry spotted rabbit, and I immediately surmised that it had been hit and killed by one of the various vehicles arriving before me. I made sure my car straddled the dead animal as I did not want to do any further damage.

The unknown driver of the other car (now right beside me) was waving frantically for me to stop. I did. Then she was wildly gestured as though to say back up in a hurry. I did.

By now, she was out of her car and asking what I thought we should do. I looked at her blankly. She went over to the animal; and it moved—it lifted its head. It was not the head of a rabbit; it was the head of a newborn fawn. We looked at each other in disbelief. The fawn made no attempt to escape. The young woman standing there looked helplessly to me, the older and wiser one (not that I had any idea what to do). Then, she gently poked the little deer. There was no response, just a trusting look from the beautiful eyes of the helpless baby—you know that pitiful look little fawns have.

After a few moments, she stooped down, picked up the baby, and laid it in the grassy area beside the road. We both realized it had no chance for life lying helpless in the middle of the road, but she was far more courageous than me. I kept watching the grove of trees and heavy undergrowth just past the grassy area for a sign of mother deer which I thought might be angry. I don’t know what I planned to do if mama came charging (maybe move my car in front of her), but I kept watch anyway trying to be of some help.

Neither the young woman nor I knew what to do next or who to contact. After a few minutes of pondering, we both needed to get to work; and we drove away, leaving the infant safely in the grass out of harm’s way.

Once in the office, I told my story and realized that the baby had been born right there on the road minutes before—after the others in the office had driven by. They began to brainstorm about whom they could call for help. One pointed out that mama deer might not have anything to do with a baby that was touched and that carried a human scent.

So how does the story end? I don’t know. A young man (an animal lover) came by and offered to care for it as he sought to contact the proper persons. Without some care and nourishment, the helpless newborn would surely die.

On the positive side of this incident, I understand that the fawn was helpless and needed a savior. Isn’t that a picture of us? We think we can take care of ourselves; but the situation is that we, too, are every bit as helpless and in dire need of a savior.

And, Jesus saw us in our dire need, stooped down, picked us up, and “made us to lie down in green pastures.” Otherwise, we, like that newborn fawn, would certainly perish.

On the negative side, I feel a bit like the priest and Levite in Luke 10:31-32, who were willing to pass by the man, bloody and beaten, lying on the road. Fortunately, others were more Good Samaritans than me. Just when I think I am becoming mature in the Lord, He reminds me that I am a sheep, dumb and in dire need of a shepherd.