Friday, April 27, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Self-Discovery
I learned something about myself today—I am into trouble
avoidance.
It all began this morning at our weekly ladies’ prayer
group. I love this group. Many have known each other for 30+ years and have
shared births and deaths and laughter and tears.
To understand this epiphany, there are two things you
need to know. First, my family owns a restaurant. It is a neat place where
people meet and eat, where several pastors come for coffee and personal study,
and where our prayer group meets on Thursday mornings.
Secondly, this week a murder trial is starting. While that
may be a ho-hum daily occurrence in a city, that’s not so in our town. I don’t personally know any of the people
involved, but some have a reputation of not being the prayer meetin’ type.
Now I must also explain that our restaurant shares a
parking lot in the back with the sheriff’s department/jail and with the court
house. Ordinarily, that’s a comforting thing when we close at night.
However, this morning as I parked in the back for prayer
group, three state policemen were standing waiting nearby amid many cars. I
looked around realizing that I was parked on the very path between the jail and
the courthouse where those involved in the trial would be walking at any
minute. I skulked quickly across the parking lot and hurried into the back
kitchen door, hoping I would not be accosted or shot.
As the prayer
group ladies gathered, one mentioned that she was so disappointed that she was
not chosen for jury duty. Two others indicated they planned to go to the
courthouse and watch the trial. I almost collapsed in laughter as I described
my cloak-and-dagger trip across the parking lot.
I shared a college memory of the late 60’s when campus riots
were breaking out across the country. That spring at SIU, every evening a
growing crowd of protesters would gather at the Moo & Cackle near our
apartment and protest. I found the mob scene alarming, and insisted that we
stay inside. Not so our older retired neighbors. They sat out in lawn chairs enjoying
the fray.
It very much seemed that the college scene was repeated
today in the parking lot, and I decided it was time for me to stop hiding,
stand up, and walk like a man (or a wo-man). I opened the back kitchen door, I
stepped out into the sunshine, and I walked nonchalantly to my car. I never
looked cautiously to the right or left. Good for me! (well, it was the middle
of the morning and no one was anywhere in sight).
And tomorrow? Well, we’ll see. . . Isaiah 41:10
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Too Much Paper
As I sit at the desk and look around, I am appalled by the
amount of paper surrounding me. Honestly, I would think the post office would
be making money hand over fist with all the paper they deliver to our house.
Day after day, we get catalogues, credit card invitations, requests for money,
and, of course, bills.
You would expect that retired people would be exempt from
all that, er well that junk. In the years when I was working, I did need more
clothes than now or so I thought. I tried not to have just my Monday outfit,
Tuesday outfit, etc. Earlier in my life, I knew what day it was by looking down
and checking my duds, but now not so much. I have plenty of leftovers in my
closet to throw on.
My farmer also does not need more clothes as he wears a
makeshift uniform every day—jeans, t-shirt, and flannel shirt—less if it’s hot
and more if it’s cold. Layers! That’s his motto, plus a jacket or two in the
truck (our farm is about 35 miles from our house, so he has to be prepared).
I said all that to say, we don’t need catalogues every
week or two full of the latest fashions. Seriously? I generally dispose of them
pretty quickly or glance through them to make sure farmer and I aren’t dressing
out of a different century. On second thought, maybe we are.
But the paper continues to stack up. On the desk, we have
an expandable file folder filled with folders and papers for each of us about
retirement, insurance, and social security. Don’t even think there is anything
easy about any of those. I’m curious to know if someone somewhere thinks they can
confuse any post-middle aged people who are over, oh I don’t know, over 55 or
60 or 65. Perhaps those someones think they can do or say anything and we won’t
understand it. They may be right.
Of this I am sure—if I look over any scrap of paper, deem
it unimportant, and throw it away, we will need it desperately tomorrow. Sigh
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
New Life
Spring 2012 is one that will go down as a double-portion-new-life spring for us. On Wednesday, February 15, the word came that our younger sons’ wife would be delivering our granddaughter that day. The baby’s birth brought our total to six—three girls and three boys. We hadn’t had a grandchild in pink for seven years. You might say we had had the “blues” (certainly not the sad kind).
Two months later to the day, on Sunday, April 15, the temporary tie between grandsons and granddaughters was broken. We had received word that our older son’s wife was beginning labor with grandchild #seven. My husband and I went to Sunday School expecting any moment to receive the call to come to the hospital. I was teaching the Rock Group on the book of Job—not a light-hearted topic for sure. No frantic call came, so we enjoyed our learning and fellowship with our respective classes.
Afterwards, we set off for the nearby hospital. Often I find myself frustrated and impatient with God when life isn’t lived on my schedule. Doesn’t He understand how important it is that plans work out according to our agenda? No! But this time, He really came through in the timing department.
As it was Sunday, the maternity section of the hospital was deserted. That proved to be a huge blessing for us and for the hospital. The two families involved have become very close over the eight years of the young couple’s marriage, and the two families are also very close to each other. That’s a fun way of saying we all go to whatever anyone is celebrating.
The daughter-in-law giving birth has two grown sisters and our son has a brother and two sisters plus spouses and children. Between the two families, there are 8 lively kids under the age of 10 and all were present in the waiting room along with aunts, uncles, moms, and dads. It was what you might call “controlled chaos.” We won’t include the other newborn as she was a quiet, smiling addition to the crowd, but the 7 other young ones are all, as I said, lively.
New baby did not come as quickly as we expected, so there were several hours of the 7 kids anxiously waiting. Since it was a weekend, all were able to be off school or work, and because of the timing, the little mob did not bother anyone. They took a walk outdoors around the exterior and played some lawn games, always keeping one eye out for the moment when the new cousin would come into their world.
Then came a sign from behind the double doors—the nurse flashed a thumbs-up and we knew he was here. The little fellow, just shy of 8 pounds announced his arrival to the cheers of the mob waiting for the good news.
Thank you so much, Lord, for your schedule for the birth. Given the size, the ages, and the volume of the welcoming committee, it was perfect!
Two months later to the day, on Sunday, April 15, the temporary tie between grandsons and granddaughters was broken. We had received word that our older son’s wife was beginning labor with grandchild #seven. My husband and I went to Sunday School expecting any moment to receive the call to come to the hospital. I was teaching the Rock Group on the book of Job—not a light-hearted topic for sure. No frantic call came, so we enjoyed our learning and fellowship with our respective classes.
Afterwards, we set off for the nearby hospital. Often I find myself frustrated and impatient with God when life isn’t lived on my schedule. Doesn’t He understand how important it is that plans work out according to our agenda? No! But this time, He really came through in the timing department.
As it was Sunday, the maternity section of the hospital was deserted. That proved to be a huge blessing for us and for the hospital. The two families involved have become very close over the eight years of the young couple’s marriage, and the two families are also very close to each other. That’s a fun way of saying we all go to whatever anyone is celebrating.
The daughter-in-law giving birth has two grown sisters and our son has a brother and two sisters plus spouses and children. Between the two families, there are 8 lively kids under the age of 10 and all were present in the waiting room along with aunts, uncles, moms, and dads. It was what you might call “controlled chaos.” We won’t include the other newborn as she was a quiet, smiling addition to the crowd, but the 7 other young ones are all, as I said, lively.
New baby did not come as quickly as we expected, so there were several hours of the 7 kids anxiously waiting. Since it was a weekend, all were able to be off school or work, and because of the timing, the little mob did not bother anyone. They took a walk outdoors around the exterior and played some lawn games, always keeping one eye out for the moment when the new cousin would come into their world.
Then came a sign from behind the double doors—the nurse flashed a thumbs-up and we knew he was here. The little fellow, just shy of 8 pounds announced his arrival to the cheers of the mob waiting for the good news.
Thank you so much, Lord, for your schedule for the birth. Given the size, the ages, and the volume of the welcoming committee, it was perfect!
Saturday, April 14, 2012
The Y Chromosome
The official Easter season has come and gone, but I can’t get the resurrection out of my mind. That was the most astonishing occurrence in all of human history, second only to a virgin birth 33 years earlier.
It would appear that a virgin birth meant no Y chromosome was passed from a human father to a son, yet Jesus was definitely born a “boy.” Somehow God reproduced His miracle of the first Adam’s blood in the last Adam (that’s what Jesus is called in Corinthians).
Admittedly, I‘m a bit lost in this particular scripture, but since I believe it to be so crucial in understanding God’s plan for us, I tried reading it in The Message bible. I Corinthians 15:45-48 “The First Adam received life, the Last Adam is a life-giving Spirit…The First Man was made out of earth, and people since then are earthy; the Second Man was made out of heaven, and people now can be heavenly…”
Back to that X chromosome thing—if Jesus had lived during the NCIS or CSI era, they would check his blood type and seek to match his DNA for paternity identification. Whom would it show to be his father? How would present-day forensic scientists explain it?
The first Adam had to be covered with animal blood (skins-Genesis 3:21) and sin demanded continual sacrifices of blood for a relationship with God. Yet, those sacrifices could never remove sin, but cover it until the next sacrifice.
However, the last Adam—Jesus, sacrificed his own blood (the blood that God Himself created and deposited in the borrowed womb). Hebrews 2 says about Jesus, “Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity…he had to be made like them, fully human in every way…” Did you notice that “flesh and blood”?
“Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God” (I Cor. 15:50) but “flesh and bones” can. Jesus demonstrated his flesh and bones in Luke 24:39, and we know Jesus not only inherited the kingdom of God, but sits on the throne with the Father.
Jesus’ torn flesh was the bridge between God and humanity, but it was his blood, all of it, that paid the price for humanity’s sin. In seeming defeat, when his blood was gone, his life was gone and his body died. Leviticus 17:11 explains that “the life of a creature is in the blood…”
However, hallelujah, the borrowed tomb could not keep captive the flesh and bones (Luke 24:39 above) and Jesus in victory walked out, leaving the linen cloths. When Adam sinned, he lost his heavenly covering and found himself naked—when the last Adam (Jesus) arose, he was covered and clothed from heaven.
This is too big and too important to be relegated to a once a year holiday. In communion, we are told to remember Jesus’ death; daily, we should rejoice at his resurrection!
It would appear that a virgin birth meant no Y chromosome was passed from a human father to a son, yet Jesus was definitely born a “boy.” Somehow God reproduced His miracle of the first Adam’s blood in the last Adam (that’s what Jesus is called in Corinthians).
Admittedly, I‘m a bit lost in this particular scripture, but since I believe it to be so crucial in understanding God’s plan for us, I tried reading it in The Message bible. I Corinthians 15:45-48 “The First Adam received life, the Last Adam is a life-giving Spirit…The First Man was made out of earth, and people since then are earthy; the Second Man was made out of heaven, and people now can be heavenly…”
Back to that X chromosome thing—if Jesus had lived during the NCIS or CSI era, they would check his blood type and seek to match his DNA for paternity identification. Whom would it show to be his father? How would present-day forensic scientists explain it?
The first Adam had to be covered with animal blood (skins-Genesis 3:21) and sin demanded continual sacrifices of blood for a relationship with God. Yet, those sacrifices could never remove sin, but cover it until the next sacrifice.
However, the last Adam—Jesus, sacrificed his own blood (the blood that God Himself created and deposited in the borrowed womb). Hebrews 2 says about Jesus, “Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity…he had to be made like them, fully human in every way…” Did you notice that “flesh and blood”?
“Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God” (I Cor. 15:50) but “flesh and bones” can. Jesus demonstrated his flesh and bones in Luke 24:39, and we know Jesus not only inherited the kingdom of God, but sits on the throne with the Father.
Jesus’ torn flesh was the bridge between God and humanity, but it was his blood, all of it, that paid the price for humanity’s sin. In seeming defeat, when his blood was gone, his life was gone and his body died. Leviticus 17:11 explains that “the life of a creature is in the blood…”
However, hallelujah, the borrowed tomb could not keep captive the flesh and bones (Luke 24:39 above) and Jesus in victory walked out, leaving the linen cloths. When Adam sinned, he lost his heavenly covering and found himself naked—when the last Adam (Jesus) arose, he was covered and clothed from heaven.
This is too big and too important to be relegated to a once a year holiday. In communion, we are told to remember Jesus’ death; daily, we should rejoice at his resurrection!
♫ “Arise, My love.
Arise, My love.
The grave no longer
has a hold on you
No more death's sting
No more suffering
Arise...Arise...my love. ♫
NewSong
Monday, April 9, 2012
Generosity
My husband and I eat out frequently simply because it’s faster and has easy cleanup. I suppose there is no question about the healthfulness of fast food compared to homemade, but still we are so often in a hurry—life in this high-speed generation.
We do, however, seldom eat at a Chinese restaurant because my husband’s stomach complains when he overdoes fried foods and usually his willpower (or won’tpower) is challenged there.
I said all that to say that since Grandpa was off to the farm today, my daughter and two granddaughters invited me for Chinese for lunch on their day off of school. That sounded fun!
We ate and talked and laughed. Finally, as happens in Chinese restaurants, our waitress brought our bill and a fortune cookie for each of us. Now, I generally don’t do well in the fortune cookie realm. The last time I had been there, my fortune cookie told me that my judgment was off and I would have to rely on my friends. Does that sound like a “fortune”? Doesn’t the very word assure something desirable? If I were a fortune cookie maker, I would include some wonderful (even though empty) promises.
Well, today I let the others choose first and then slowly and reluctantly broke my cookie open. I began to read, “An alien of some sort will be appearing to you shortly!” Trying to be a comfort, my daughter speculated that it might be about an angel. You have to admit, that’s a better thought than a little green Martian.
We gathered our things to leave and as we stopped to pay our bill, a woman in line ahead of us was lamenting that her fortune cookie was empty. “Here, take mine!” I offered.
We do, however, seldom eat at a Chinese restaurant because my husband’s stomach complains when he overdoes fried foods and usually his willpower (or won’tpower) is challenged there.
I said all that to say that since Grandpa was off to the farm today, my daughter and two granddaughters invited me for Chinese for lunch on their day off of school. That sounded fun!
We ate and talked and laughed. Finally, as happens in Chinese restaurants, our waitress brought our bill and a fortune cookie for each of us. Now, I generally don’t do well in the fortune cookie realm. The last time I had been there, my fortune cookie told me that my judgment was off and I would have to rely on my friends. Does that sound like a “fortune”? Doesn’t the very word assure something desirable? If I were a fortune cookie maker, I would include some wonderful (even though empty) promises.
Well, today I let the others choose first and then slowly and reluctantly broke my cookie open. I began to read, “An alien of some sort will be appearing to you shortly!” Trying to be a comfort, my daughter speculated that it might be about an angel. You have to admit, that’s a better thought than a little green Martian.
We gathered our things to leave and as we stopped to pay our bill, a woman in line ahead of us was lamenting that her fortune cookie was empty. “Here, take mine!” I offered.
♫ Many things about tomorrow
I don’t seem to understand
But I know Who holds tomorrow
And I know who holds my hand. ♫
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Open and Empty
This is a repost from April 11, 2009--and it's still true in 2012!
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 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.
♫ Lord I lift your name on high
Lord I love to sing your praises
I'm so glad you are in my life
I'm so glad you came to save us.
You came from heaven to earth,
to show the way
From the earth to the cross,
my debt to pay
From the cross to the grave,
From the grave to the sky
Lord I lift your name on high. ♫
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Blood Money
It’s almost Good Friday and Easter again! Over the years, new little faces have appeared at our table while wrinkled faces are missing, having gone to a better place where they wait for the family to reassemble.
I love to celebrate holidays, especially Christmas and Easter, even though political correctness has sought to stamp out those words with “winter break” and “spring break”.
Further, if political correctness doesn’t completely eradicate the two holidays, then a secular society adds a replacement strategy—Santa and the Easter Bunny. That’s an extremely effective strategy as it appeals to kids’ (and adults’) self-seeking desires. Words like “Praise you Lord for your birth, death, and resurrection” are easily replaced by “Gimmee, gimmee.”
It has been easy to create an entitlement attitude in young people. Look around. What do you see? I see a society that is the result of generations of “gimmee.” I see kids with so many toys they can’t walk through their house still express expectations of new stuff for every holiday. I see adults with so many toys in their houses and garages that their cars have to sit outside.
Have we, like Judas, for a few shiny baubles sold the very Lord who loved us and gave us the greatest gift?
Acts 4:10-12 states, “It is by the NAME of Jesus Christ of Nazareth…there is NO OTHER NAME under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.” Not the name of “spring break,” not Santa Claus, not the Easter Bunny.
Some years ago, I heard a song that I thought commented on the greed patrol led by Judas Iscariot. I changed a few words to protect the, well, whatever.
I love to celebrate holidays, especially Christmas and Easter, even though political correctness has sought to stamp out those words with “winter break” and “spring break”.
Further, if political correctness doesn’t completely eradicate the two holidays, then a secular society adds a replacement strategy—Santa and the Easter Bunny. That’s an extremely effective strategy as it appeals to kids’ (and adults’) self-seeking desires. Words like “Praise you Lord for your birth, death, and resurrection” are easily replaced by “Gimmee, gimmee.”
It has been easy to create an entitlement attitude in young people. Look around. What do you see? I see a society that is the result of generations of “gimmee.” I see kids with so many toys they can’t walk through their house still express expectations of new stuff for every holiday. I see adults with so many toys in their houses and garages that their cars have to sit outside.
Have we, like Judas, for a few shiny baubles sold the very Lord who loved us and gave us the greatest gift?
Acts 4:10-12 states, “It is by the NAME of Jesus Christ of Nazareth…there is NO OTHER NAME under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.” Not the name of “spring break,” not Santa Claus, not the Easter Bunny.
Some years ago, I heard a song that I thought commented on the greed patrol led by Judas Iscariot. I changed a few words to protect the, well, whatever.
♫ Hey there, friend Judas
That’s what I used to call you
They tell me you want me
But I hear they’ve got you
They made you an offer
Of a bag full of silver
Paid you some money
To sell them my blood.
You say, it’s not about me
And it’s not about you
Or the good and the bad times
We’ve both been through
When the lines between brothers
And justice have changed
You do what you've got to
You can't walk away
I wonder what would have happened
If you’d seen it plain
That I was the hero
Would things be the same
I would have traded
My life for your own life
I came to pay
The debt in your place.
Blood money, that’s what they call it
But money for blood,
That’s no fair exchange
Blood money bought and then sold you
Your conscious is all you
Can take to your grave. ♫
Borrowed from Jon Bon Jovi
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
