Kicking and Screaming

True story.  I took my 3 year old granddaughter to Hobby Lobby.  The intent was to buy her some 'good stuff' to occupy her time while her mama convalesced.  I needed to get some shingle clips for my mr man and we walked by the huge display of glass ornaments on our way to the Christmas light section.  She saw all those sparkling figurines and such as 'toys' and decided she was getting out of the cart to play.  
Grandma said "No, you must stay in the cart.  Those aren't toys."  She was getting out anyway, because she could.  I set her down and stated my claim to dominance again.  This produced a series of earsplitting screams.   I told her she must sit in the cart for us to buy the special things.  She began to scream her demands and throw a kicking, accusing, uncontrolled fit.  I'd watched other children do that to the various adults in their lives and I remembered their humiliation and the non-effect their pleas and placations produced, so I felt empowered.  
I told her that if she did not sit down and stop screaming we would leave the store without anything.  Much as I expected, she continued the screaming, kicking fit.  I smiled and nodded and people cleared the path.  I took her out of the cart and put it back in its place when we got to the front.  I carried her screaming out the door.  Suddenly she stopped screaming and began to beg. My reply was "Nope. . . . Too late. . . . Wrong gramma."  
As I put her into her car seat, she informed me that she was just having a bad day.  I smiled and said "Well, we may try this again another day and see if we can have a better day."  She argued on.  I smiled and drove home. 
About halfway home, she said "I'm so sad.  You should take me to McDonalds."  
I had to laugh -it was required.  I reiterated, "Wrong gramma."
This was the first day she and I had ever really spent together.  I've been around her before, but was always so busy that I didn't really have time to interact one on one.  We did stop at Brahms for a few things before going home.  And we did find some things to do at Gramma's house.  We watched movies and she helped feed the fish and the day passed quickly.
The next day after her mother was settled in, I said "Now, I need to go to the store.  Grandpa needs some shingle clips to hang the lights and I need to buy some stuff that we can do while you are here."
She informed me that she was having a much better day and that she would stay in the cart.  It was a fun shopping trip without demands or fits, even when we went through the Christmas section and passed the huge selection of sparkling glass ornaments.  I don't plan on writing a grand-parenting manual any time soon.  I don't think I'm all that, but I have learned some things in life.  Beside the fact that I have raised 5 daughters, I am an observer of success and failure alike.  I'm glad that she is so intelligent.  We had a good time.
But I have learned one thing from it all.  Toddlers and immature people will scream anything to get you to submit to their desires and agenda, no matter how illogical or even harmful.  I have watched them threaten and disrupt, gathering disdain or sympathy until someone stops catering to their irrational behavior.  Sometimes, we must set aside our moment for the greater good and future peace.  Sometimes the answer is so simple it alludes us in the chaos.  The key is to watch, to learn and to listen to a greater voice inside.

Faith and Trust

^{Romans 3:3 NIV}   What if some were unfaithful? Will their unfaithfulness nullify God’s faithfulness?

^{John 1: 4 AMP} In Him was Life, and the Life was the Light of men.

⁵ And the Light shines on in the darkness, for the darkness has never overpowered it [put it out or absorbed it or appropriated it, and is unreceptive to it].

Reading in Romans this morning –yes I’ve been stuck here for a very long time, but it is rich and begs comprehension- I wandered off on a side trail, though it is the truth of Paul’s discussion in that book that inspired my thought.

I grew up with parents that loved to camp.  By ‘camp’ I don’t mean a cottage in the woods, or even a pop-up or an RV in a cozy campground.  We did several weekend overnighters and holiday camps throughout the year.  But each summer, my parents would load enough food and equipment in our car, in later years in a panel van, to last our family of 6 two weeks.  We piled in with the dog and drove an hour or two into the rockies.  If it was late, I would crawl up into the window of that old car, put a blanket between me and the window’s cold and sleep mercifully until we reached our destination.

In the early years, we would spread out pallets of quilts under huge old spruce trees after cleaning off the rough dead branches from the lower trunk where the foliage had died off.  The denseness of the tree foliage would protect us from all but the worst rainstorms.  Often my dad would make us a lean to out of an old army tarp that smelled of treated canvas and years of use and storage –a smokey, musty, oily smell that I learned to appreciate somewhat.  This would protect our food prep and storage space from sap and bird droppings and give us a slight bit to huddle under against the frequent rains and occasional sleet.  Much of the living and cooking was done about a carefully crafted firepit.  Sometimes there were large ‘sitting’ rocks in the perimeter. Other times, we would place large old logs ‘round about for sitting.  Here we sang and ate and told and listened to stories until we were tucked in for the night under the trees.  Frequently I dosed off in my daddy’s arms and woke in my warm little nest in the morning.

Most mornings, we’d wake to the smell of breakfast cooking on the fire.  We’d fish or hike and explore during the days.  And then at night we’d have something warm to eat and drink and sit about again recounting the day’s fun and discoveries and then singing and telling stories until it was time to do it all again.

We lived that way for two weeks.  It is hard for my mind to reconcile with the spoiled commercial world that I now occupy.  The most curious part is how totally happy we were with the adventure.  But what has that to do with the issue of faithfulness or light?

Those family outings and sitting about that campfire in the cold Colorado nights had interesting similarities to the life of faith.  I’ll not hit on all of them here, but I will address the issue of interference and of faith vs. fear as it occurred to me this morning during my reading.

One of the most difficult arguments from those who have been wounded or wish to avoid the church and faith in general is that of unfaithfulness on the part of believers –most difficult, because it is most often true.  When you are the youngest in the family, and therefore the smallest, it is easy for others to block you from the warmth and light of the fire pit.  In a crisp Colorado air, where a passing cloud in the daytime can quickly make the warm earth frigid, nights are very cold.  Every bit of warmth is needed.  So just how should we handle people who interfere with our view of and connection to the light?  I don’t suppose they will ever go away –at least not on this earth.

Another issue is that of faith in the shadow of fear.  Camping in the mountains there was much to make you shiver besides the cold.  The wolves could be heard and the cows bawling because a calf had been taken by a wolf, bear, or mountain lion.  I knew calves.  I was smaller than they were.  There were lots of scary stories about.  And even if you ignore the natural predators, it’s a dangerous thing to run into an elk or moose in the dark.  I was taught early the stories that supported the deterring effect fire has on wild life.  My mom had lived for a time in the mountains when she was a girl and she always made sure there was a log smoldering safely in our camp site.  The fire literally never went out.  But when I found myself blocked away from the fire, fear would rage in young my mind.

But even as a young child I knew what to do.  My daddy was tall and he was strong.  He could lift me above the interference and the shadows.  He could put me on his shoulder where I believed I was safe.  Or he could hold me in his arms where his own protective warmth and mass made me know it was alright even if I could not see the light for a bit.

Yet I do understand not everyone has that picture or experience to use in the times when foolishness and evil become barriers to the light of God.  Yet God said he put the truth about himself into his creation.  When the sun is blocked, it remains true.  If immature believers block the light of God, He himself remains true and faithful.  It is not the believer who brings us light, but the Father.  Even when the shadow of the earth brings darkness, the light is faithful.  Even if we don’t really understand, the light is faithful.  And so His children can find his hand in the dark and He will lift them, in good time, to the light.  Faith is a gift; trust is a choice.

The Choice Revolution

People want me to join the whole ‘choice’ revolution: get behind things that I have not only been taught but believe in my spirit are wrong – sin if you will.  There is always someone who comments that their ‘sin’ is no more wrong than other sin such as gossip or judgmental condemnation.  Guess what.  You may offer me a choice of death by drowning, poison, disease, or even falling off a cliff.  But when it’s over, the truth is, the result is death.  If I take an overdose I will probably die or have medical problems the rest of my life.  If I jump off a bridge and live, it will be a physical and emotional disaster, etc, etc.

Spiritually, choosing to sin is destruction or disaster.  Yes, we all have our mistakes, our flaws and our failures, but that is a given.  Choosing to honor a mistake makes it no longer a mistake.  That applies to sin in general.  I choose life and I choose to pray for the redemption of those I love.  I will not choose to honor your sin any more than I choose to honor my own.  They all must pass under the blood of Christ and be washed away.  Choosing to honor sin is like choosing to take poison and expecting to live a normal, happy life and then getting mad at others or at God when you don’t get that result.

So you say I have no right to pass judgment on you.  I could not agree more.  But I do have a right to seek to have good judgment within myself.  And I am required to confess my own sin and not yours.  I am called to pray for and sometimes caution those God has given to me.  Yet you want me to say that ‘sin’ is every person’s private opinion.  I could not disagree more.  The definition of sin is in God’s mind and subject to God’s truth alone.  The law and the bible reveal sin as sin.  We can choose to discard that, but our rejection does not change God’s truth. 

Perhaps if we looked more closely at the reasons and the outcomes of our actions, we would find the definition of sin less confusing.  Perhaps if we seek a true relationship with our God and allow him to have the last word on sin, there will be no confusion at all.  But we all have our ‘want to’ when it comes to sin.  Paul said that a person was blessed if his heart did not condemn him in the freedoms he felt.  That same Paul said there were definite sins and God does not ‘humor’ them.  The wisdom is knowing in your own heart positively what is wrong and what is only a rule.  I think in a few –very few- instances that may be a personal thing. 

The apostles convened and gave this directive under the guidance of the Holy Spirit: abstain from things offered to idols, don’t drink blood, and avoid sexual immorality.  Other than that, we were to follow God with our whole heart and serve our brothers in Christ with humility.  Of course we can argue all day about what those things mean or we can take that as a directive for ourselves and begin to follow Christ.

It is in my nature –even my calling- to warn and caution people.  That does not make me a judgmental person.  Accept your own freedom if it truly is freedom but don’t destroy anyone else for it.  That caution is from the Bible.  If I warned you about traffic conditions, you might ignore me but you would not condemn me for doing that.  If I warned you about a safety issue, the same would be true.  But if I speak a warning about a spiritual issue, I have suddenly set my self as a self-righteous, condemning judge.  Why do that?  Enjoy your own freedom in Christ while you make your calling and chosen status before God certain.  And allow me the same right because sin is sin and grace is grace.

His name is Johnny

He’s a panhandler.  I don’t really know much about him from a personal standpoint, but I know inside.  I have seen his lack of honesty, his lack of integrity, his lack of social grace.  In the beginning, Johnny showed up occasionally and asked for us to hire him to do odd jobs.  My husband would put him to work and give him $20 or $50 bucks for very little ‘work’ very poorly done.  

One time we were getting ready to leave when he showed up.  My husband took him around back and showed him some trees that needed planting and where they needed to go.   He gave him the money and we went our way.  When we came back, Louis went to inspect the handiwork.  He came in and said, “You’ve got to see this.”  Johnny dug one big hole, and set a tree, pot and all, into the hole. 

Once he showed up with his sister and her children needing a fair amount of money.  I was redoing my front patio and cleaning out my sunroom for the seasonal change.  So my husband told them to move all the rocks and stack them on the driveway and then had them move all the plants from my sunroom out onto the parking pad.  That was a fiasco for the most part.  The kids were trying to move rocks that were too large for them, trying to throw rocks from the patio to the driveway.  One of the kids hit his mom with a rock.  They dropped and spilled the potted plants.  But they did clear most of the patio and sunroom and my husband finally told them they were done, gave them some money and sent them on their way. 

A couple of days later they all showed up again and needed money because Johnny burned himself while cooking breakfast and didn’t have enough for the antibiotics and pain prescription that they issued at the emergency room.  I had heard them arrive and watched them come up to the door from my study.  Neither seemed in pain or physically hampered in any way.  The arm had a dirty, badly applied gauze bandage which covered “the horrid wound.”  I agreed to give them a very small part of what they asked for just to get rid of them without vocalizing my doubts that the arm was doctored in an emergency room.  At that point, the sister began limping badly and stated that she had been injured the Saturday before working on our property and really needed to see a doctor herself.  I’m fairly non-confrontational up to a point.  That was the point that ended my compliant benevolence.  I told them to leave and if I saw them again, I would call the police and have them removed for trespassing.

Johnny had started showing up when Louis wasn’t home a year or so after we began ‘paying’ him to do odd jobs.  He needed money, he needed a ride, he was hungry.  That was a time when I was being tested and purified in my benevolent giving.  There were times when I sent him off with an excuse.  Other times I gave him money I didn’t really have to spare just to get rid of him.  I would give him a bottle of cold water on a hot day.  Once I gave him bus fare when he asked for cab fare because there is a bus stop close to my home.

I’ve always been a giver.  My father taught me to tithe my allowance as a child and it felt good.  When I began babysitting, I carefully calculated what I ‘owed’ God based on one tenth.  I will put a dollar or a hand full of coins in every red kettle I see at Christmas time.  I’ve had my heart strings pulled many times.  I married a man whose spiritual gift seems to be benevolence without reserve.  At times he has amazed me with wisdom and at times not so much.  But in the past several years, God has been changing the way I think of giving.  I am learning to ask.  I am learning to be honest when I don’t give.  I am learning to present the gift as God’s emissary.  Sometimes I give when I don’t want to.  Sometimes I am filled with joy at the opportunity.  Sometimes I am not released to give.  It’s not as hard as it sounds or at least as it sounded to me in the beginning.

I have learned that it is my obedience not the return or gratitude that makes giving make sense.  I have learned to turn loose of it when I turn loose of it.  I give because it is right at that moment in that instant.  Once I give it is no longer mine to do with.  If I have trusted God in my giving, I must also trust him with the outcome of my giving.

And so the other day I found myself looking through the glass in my door at Johnny.  His first word was “I have a job now,” and then he pointed out that he had even cleaned up and cut his hair.  I might have thought “So what?” because it was obvious he was here to beg.  But something inside felt proud that he cared to say that to me.  He went on with his story: “If I don’t pay $..... on my electric bill they’re going to shut it off.  I was able to pay most of it, but I have to have $30 more and I’ve gotten 12 dollars so far today.  Can I do something to earn at least part of it?  It has to be fast, because I have to get it paid today.”

I said “Wait here,” and walked into the house.  “Father?”  I questioned and received what I needed to know that quickly.  I pulled out two tens.  God said, “Give him 18.”  I hunted and came up with $18.

As I handed him the money, he said, “I get paid on Friday.  I will bring it back.”  I knew what my answer should be.

“Give it to someone else that really needs it.  It is a gift from God.  That’s how he wants it repaid.”  Johnny looked at me steadily for a minute or so, straight in the eye.  “Yes ma’am.  I will.”

I must leave the truth of what is done to the one who instructed me.  I know the whole ‘pay it forward’ concept, but this wasn’t really that at all.  Because as he walked away, I felt God saying, “When he learns to give, it will do him more good than anything he has ever received.”  And I knew God wasn’t just talking about a willingness to transfer money to another person’s hand.  I knew that what God was saying applied as much to me as to Johnny.  Learning to respond to the Father’s desire is far more beneficial than $18 in your hand when you need to pay a bill.  It is what makes you truly successful and blessed.

Dressing up to deceive a blind prophet.

In I Kings chapter 14 we have an interesting story.

At that time Abijah son of Jeroboam became ill, ² and Jeroboam said to his wife, “Go, disguise yourself, so you won’t be recognized as the wife of Jeroboam. Then go to Shiloh. Ahijah the prophet is there—the one who told me I would be king over this people. ³ Take ten loaves of bread with you, some cakes and a jar of honey, and go to him. He will tell you what will happen to the boy.” ⁴ So Jeroboam’s wife did what he said and went to Ahijah’s house in Shiloh.

So, reading this causes me some questions.  There are examples of people from other nations who brought gifts to prophets and they were amazing.  Yet Jeroboam says “Take him ten loaves of bread, some cakes and a jar of honey” –not a kings gift to a prophet for sure.  But many of the kings of Israel so disdained the messages of the prophets that gifts aren’t even recorded.  Was this part of the disguise, this gift she would bring?

Another question I considered is “Who was the gift meant to impress?”  Was its commonness meant to fool the prophet or perhaps she had so little confidence in his ‘word’ that it didn’t really matter; she just followed instructions.

Now Ahijah could not see; his sight was gone because of his age.  The irony of this statement grabs my mind.  Did Jeroboam not know that this prophet had gone blind?  Did he disguise his wife so that the prophet would be fooled into thinking she was a deserving commoner or did he disguise his wife so the people would not know he was consulting the prophet?

⁵ But the Lord had told Ahijah, “Jeroboam’s wife is coming to ask you about her son, for he is ill, and you are to give her such and such an answer. When she arrives, she will pretend to be someone else.”  This statement makes me think that the disguise was meant, at least partially, to trick Ahijah.  Did she suppose that the verdict might be kinder if she were not the king’s wife?  Perhaps she doubted that they would really receive ‘God’s message’ from this prophet.

⁶ So when Ahijah heard the sound of her footsteps at the door, he said, “Come in, wife of Jeroboam. Why this pretense? I have been sent to you with bad news.  The prophet went strait to the issue.  He also assures her that he has been sent to her.  I’m sure she thought it was the other way around, but things are often not what they appear to be.  I wonder if God had given him no message for her, if he would have even given her an audience, knowing she was the queen.  The track record for being treated well when giving these kind of messages was pretty dim.  Both Ahijah and Jeroboam had to run and hide when he gave Jeroboam the commission  to be king when he was an officer of Solomon’s court. 

Before he gave her the answer she came for, he gave her the history of Jeroboam’s rule.  ⁷Go, tell Jeroboam that this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘I raised you up from among the people and appointed you ruler over my people Israel. ⁸ I tore the kingdom away from the house of David and gave it to you, but you have not been like my servant David, who kept my commands and followed me with all his heart, doing only what was right in my eyes. ⁹ You have done more evil than all who lived before you. You have made for yourself other gods, idols made of metal; you have aroused my anger and turned your back on me.

¹⁰ “‘Because of this, I am going to bring disaster on the house of Jeroboam. I will cut off from Jeroboam every last male in Israel—slave or free.^[a] I will burn up the house of Jeroboam as one burns dung, until it is all gone. ¹¹ Dogs will eat those belonging to Jeroboam who die in the city, and the birds will feed on those who die in the country. The Lord has spoken!’

Then he turns his attention to the queen.  In a sense, his answer to her is compassionate, though he assures her that her son will die.  Yet he has already assured her that her son will die in his prophecy to Jeroboam.  But he gives this woman’s son a place of honor and respect in his death.  ¹² “As for you, go back home. When you set foot in your city, the boy will die. ¹³ All Israel will mourn for him and bury him. He is the only one belonging to Jeroboam who will be buried, because he is the only one in the house of Jeroboam in whom the Lord, the God of Israel, has found anything good.

The prophet also adds a sad note.  The rebellion Jeroboam introduced to Israel would cause them to be taken into slavery and scattered.  Jeroboam had a chance to lead the people of the nation back to God, but his doubts and fears caused him to lead them further away thinking that would secure him and his dynasty. ¹⁶ And he will give Israel up because of the sins Jeroboam has committed and has caused Israel to commit.”

¹⁷ Then Jeroboam’s wife got up and left and went to Tirzah. As soon as she stepped over the threshold of the house, the boy died. ¹⁸ They buried him, and all Israel mourned for him, as the Lord had said through his servant the prophet Ahijah.

The story is a sad one.  Why do we seek to deceive when we are consulting God?  Why does integrity and honesty not count in our approach to God?  Why do we receive a mandate or a promise from God and then foolishly submit it to human fear and reason?  Why to we pretend to be strong or capable when approaching our need before God?

What if our deceptions were immediately put on the table as in this story.  What if our white lies were dealt with as in the story of Ananias and Sapphira?  How would it change us to know we would be quickly and surely called on our pretense?

And I have recently had cause to ask myself another set of questions.  When I pray for others, am I open to the insight God wants to give me in my human blindness?  Or am I more concerned with how I appear?  When I bless, am I sensitive to the nature and plan of God?  Or do I say what is comfortable and acceptable in our society? When I give, am I content with the deception and disguise of those who need my hand or my words? Is it even possible to be God’s person in this age?  When is it no longer about us, but about the will, plan and voice of God?  Are we people of so little faith?  If so, how can we save our nation, our families, ourselves.  Or has this faith we claim simply become a dress up game?

I Choose to Forgive

I felt instructed to write about the recent injury to my heart by a former friend.  I say former, because since the episode she has avoided me almost entirely.  It reminds me of the movie  Out of Africa where a friend is talking about the man’s love for books and how another friend didn’t take care of a book he borrowed.  He had asked the man “So you would lose a friend over a book?” to which the reply came “No, but he did, didn’t he?”

I asked myself if I would lose a friend for the offense committed and came up with that answer.  “No.  But she did, didn’t she?”  This is not to say I will not be friendly or kind.  I will.  But history would indicate that the friendship is over.  If not, I shall be glad.

Writing it out in detail put the offense in perspective.  As I wrote, I assented to the wrongness of my former friend’s action and words.  It was just a fact.  I laid it out with all the frustration and malice I felt.  And then after the long expulsion I looked at it and wrote.  “I choose to forgive.”

And so without going through the entire story, I will give you some of my observances about forgiveness as it seemed to me based on both this recent event and some past events as well.  My hope is that you will gain some good thing that may help you through your own crisis of forgiveness in some part of your life.  Most of what follows is from the writing. 

I learned long ago that saying “I forgive,” is not a valid statement when it does not come from a process of mind and emotion, because the emotions will defeat the statement time and again until the mind brings a truthful resolution.  At that point, “I forgive,” means something different.  It means “In spite of the injustice, in spite of the right I may have to be angry and maintain ill will, I will let it go.  I will require no retribution or payment for the wrong committed.”

It has been over a month and I’m still angry when I think about it.  It hasn’t consumed my mind and emotions, but when I think about it I still feel enraged.  This writing is hopefully part of the healing process.  If I can logically submit my thoughts and emotions to the black and white of the written page, perhaps I can put it in perspective for forgiveness and healing. 

We made it through the day.  Life went on.  The pain of lost opportunity and incompetence have dulled.  But the sting of those words have not.  At some point, I felt I would need to confront her.  We had a campout coming up which it seemed would offer such an opportunity.  It did not. 

So, I have found myself in need of resolution.  In a perfect world, I would have an apology to precede my forgiveness.  That’s how the Bible says it should go.  “Leave your gift at the alter and go make it right with your brother –sister- and then come and offer your gift.” And yet I hear: “Forgive those who misuse you carelessly.”  So I will have no apology.

But I cannot wait on an apology.  To be conformed to the image of Christ, I may not continue without forgiving.  He said “Father, forgive them for they do not understand what they’ve done.”  And he said it while they were still doing it. 

And so I must look at the offense straight on with its sting and injustice and say “I will let it go.  I will require no retribution or payment for the wrong committed.  I choose to forgive.” 

It would be wonderful if I could say “Now I am free.  Now there is no more sting.”  But in reality, that just isn’t true.  It isn’t even possible.  Yet I know from past experience, that once forgiveness is granted, the sting, when it comes, will be taken with its wails to the Father and He will pick me up and sooth the pain and hold me to His heart again until it has passed.  Sometimes He will allow me to see a significance in the pain and a purpose in the offense.  Sometimes He will not.  But He will always be there in my need, in my pain.  I believe that is the only place where I am not required to follow Christ.  I will never be forsaken by my God.

So it is:  I choose to forgive.

There are those who say if you still hurt, if the act still makes you angry, you have not really forgiven.  I’m sorry, but that is just not so.  Harboring a grudge and feeling the pain of injustice are not the same thing.  There are some acts that can never be changed or undone.  They will always cause pain and anger –rightly so- while we walk on this earth.  We should never become ‘okay’ with some behaviors.  But to hold a grudge, to harbor malice, to be unforgiving is not in God’s plan for our life.  If someone gives your child drugs and that child becomes an addict and never finds the way out, you can forgive, but you will feel the sting of that action over and over.  You are not overcome by it, but it will hurt.  And if you have forgiven, you will take that hurt to the Father’s arms and walk out victorious though wounded.

True forgiveness does not make excuses for wrong or for God.  I’ve heard the most ridiculous statements about God applied to the horrendous acts of mankind.  God is righteous and true.  He cannot act outside of his love, truth, righteousness or mercy.  They are his very character.  But man can choose to commit stupid, thoughtless or even demented acts that go against everything God is.  Forgiveness must be applied knowing full well what the offense was and that it was wrong.  God does not do stupid, thoughtless, horrendous things but he does promise to work all things for our good.  That takes faith to accept without excuses or explanations. 

We must trust the character of God in order to forgive.  We must recognize the character of man while we forgive.  We are predestined to be conformed to the image of God’s son, our savior, Jesus Christ.  His forgiveness did not reduce the awfulness of sin, it removed the penalty of sin.  His death did not need explained to justify the character of God.  It considered fully the character of God. 

Knowing that the being he would create would rebel, knowing that the man he would create would be caught in that rebellion, God provided a way, a solution from the beginning.  His solution would satisfy every part of his character and offer mercy to all who were caught by the deceit of rebellion by the means of faith.  His solution would create a flawless kingdom, reclaimed from the ashes.  Forgiveness, justification, re-creation.

And so it is “I choose to forgive.”

A hole in my heart.

I have a hole in my heart, dug out by a thoughtless person who didn't even realize she was being thoughtless.   And yet, it simply uncovered a long term defect from a decades old injury that has plagued me often and crippled me at times.  

If it were a physical thing, they would assess it and see how life threatening it is and perhaps they would operate and close it up so that my physical heart would heal and function normally.  But for this emotional/spiritual wound, there is no procedure; yet it will need to be repaired and given space to heal.  I have begun the preliminary consultations with the great physician.

When I was a girl, I had a friend who had a hole in his heart.  He was weaker, less vital, paler than the other kids.  He tired easily.  But in all other ways, he was just one of the kids in our church.  In that day of waiting for medicine to develop and mature, -the early 60s- they were waiting for him to reach some stage or plateau before performing the operation which at that time was of itself life-threatening.  One day after an effort to keep up with the kids around him anyway, he died.  His heart could not take the strain.

Medical understanding has developed.  Procedures have been refined.  Open heart surgery is still open heart surgery, but I don't doubt that if he was a child today, his life would be spared.  Yet emotional and spiritual strength and injury have not advanced so far.

The recent injury was simply an irritation of the old wound.  And it must be opened and carefully repaired and then allowed to heal for the processes of living to be reasonable.  It's odd, but I had learned to live with the disability that the first wound caused.  I avoided certain things, I stuffed the anger and hurt away into boxes, gritted my teeth and then forced a smile to replace the grimace.

I had forgotten the hole in my heart.  But my heart had not.  Often my mind could not reconcile the anger and hurt that lay inside when some scene or action taken by another pricked at it.  I felt guilt for not handling life as though my heart were healthy.  There is a stigma attached to not being ‘normal’.  It is the stigma that killed my friend half a century ago.

Innocence bears a certain, yet sometimes faulty, protection.  Knowledge requires action.  Perhaps the recent injury, unkind as it was, was the mercy messenger to begin the process of healing.  And so it has begun.  I wish I could say it is done for we all want desperately to be whole, full functioning individuals.  But I am in the process and that is a better place than I was in before in spite of my loss of innocence, my fear and my pain.  I believe I shall be conformed to the image of God’s son.  It’s not an easy process at all, but it must be done and now is the time.

I hope to write one day and tell you it is finished and all the scars are healed.  I hope to run my own race with vigor.

The Lesson of Eutycus

 Can you fix what you break?

⁷ On the first day of the week we came together to break bread. Paul spoke to the people and, because he intended to leave the next day, kept on talking until midnight. ⁸ There were many lamps in the upstairs room where we were meeting. ⁹ Seated in a window was a young man named Eutychus, who was sinking into a deep sleep as Paul talked on and on. When he was sound asleep, he fell to the ground from the third story and was picked up dead. ¹⁰ Paul went down, threw himself on the young man and put his arms around him. “Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “He’s alive!” ¹¹ Then he went upstairs again and broke bread and ate. After talking until daylight, he left. ¹² The people took the young man home alive and were greatly comforted.

“I didn’t mean to break it.”  “Now that doesn’t really matter, does it?”  I’ve often had this exchange with my beloved granddaughter after a clumsy, inattentive moment brought some item into useless, irreparable pieces on the floor.  It is not meant to disparage or demean and she knows it.  The purpose of the statement has nothing to do with the broken item and she knows it.  We’ve discussed it before. 

Often, if I see her headed for one of those disasters, I will say “If you break it, will it matter that you didn’t mean to?”  It is an effort to bring her actions into the conscious realm and make her more aware of consequences for thoughtless behavior.  I hope it has an even greater long term effect than to protect my or her pretties from breakage.

Let me interject here that I am fully aware that things are not as important as people.  Nothing I have is as important to me as that blue-eyed wonder times 20.  My grandchildren are eternally precious to me.  For years my motto was “It’s only stuff!”  There is a reason why stuff loses value as soon as you buy it.  It is meant to be replaced.  But I saw a problem with thoughtless action and set out to do my part in making their world a better place.

Eutychus had no clue when he sat down in that 3rd story window that it could be the last night of his life.  I can’t blame him for dozing off.  I’m not good at sitting in one place and listening to even a television program without drifting off.  I carry a sketchbook so I can stay awake and listen in the church service.  But what if I knew it would be my last night on earth?  Well, I’d have a hard time sitting still for sure, but I wonder if I might just be a little more cautious of my actions.

Often we rush headlong into a discussion or a situation without giving thought to what we might ‘break’.  I had a horrid nightmare a few years back.  I was trying to help this young child who could not walk and nothing was working and I cut off the child's leg.  Standing there in horror at what I had just done, I said 'How am I going to fix this?"  It was a disturbing dream and I woke unsettled and full of questions.  In the end, I realized some profound truth in the considerations.  Among those concepts discovered was the question "Can we mend or heal in the event that we wound or destroy?"  Paul rushed down and covered the boy.  He took him up alive and people were comforted.  I imagine the boy didn’t sit back down in the window for the rest of Paul's discourse and it says the people in that crowd were ‘greatly comforted.’  But what impact do you suppose the event might have carried into the days ahead.

For me, each time I warn my granddaughter, it is a warning to myself: “Consider the outcome of your actions.”  I still make impulsive mistakes.  I still break things thoughtlessly, so does she.  Yet sometimes I hear her say to herself “Be careful,” or “Slow down,” and I wonder if in her mind the thinks “If I break it the fact that I didn’t mean to will not make it unbroken.”

Now, if we can carry that outside the realm of trinkets, toys and dishes.

A People at War

If we didn’t know better, we would say our country is at war.  Resources and services are threatened and withheld.  We are ordered to comply or suffer.  What does that sound like to you?  Invading kings would often withhold services.  They would not allow food or supplies in.  They would stop up the water sources and sanitation.

I got into a study this morning based on the reports and cries of the common man against our government.  With what are we being made to buy our society back?  Healthcare!  But so much more than that in reality.  Think about what they are saying and doing.  Think about what they are withholding from themselves.  Nothing.  They are not threatening their own income and savings and freedoms.  They are supposed to be our public servants, but they serve no man.  Our own insurance is being depleted and changed by their grand idea.  Their insurance is so expensive, we will have nothing left. 

They are set on redistributing the wealth, but what happens when they all but destroy our economy and no one but the government has any wealth.  Do you really think they have our best in mind?  Come on; think!  Look at the patterns.  Look at the present actions.  Are we really ready to ‘believe whatever they say just because ‘they’ say it and they have us in a bind?

It is bad enough that we are told “Your government will be shut down unless you comply.”  But the truth is this is a precedent that we cannot afford to set.  Are we to be held hostage every time there is a disagreement on our rights and freedoms?  Are we to be ‘shutdown’ unless we comply and give up our say?  Are we to become a government by the few, the powerful made so by puppeteers?  Are we ready to become a society subject to a ‘divine right’ ruler not seen since the French revolution?

Do not think they will not try to tell us how and what we may believe once they have told us what we may and may not say and do.  Do not think that they will not determine who we may be, what we may have and who our children may become if we allow that.

If you think I am overreacting, stop drinking your tea and start looking around.  This is not a video game that you can reset if you lose.

A wise king in Israel after being told the plan of attack said “Is there not a man of God that we can ask?”  Hmmmm.  Perhaps we must all become ‘men and women of God’ attuned to a different voice, led by a different ethic. Perhaps we should be ready to give an answer that makes sense and yet sometimes God's answers are based in a different kind of 'sense'.  Perhaps prayer and more are required of the people who really believe in God.  Perhaps it is time that we found out what we are called and equipped to do in our world.  If it is prayer, do it with sincerity.  If it is politics, do it with integrity.  If it is management, do it with fairness.  If it is revolution, do it with righteousness.

It is not time to complain, but it is time to evaluate.  It is not time to cry, but it is time to assess what we can do to retain what freedom we have left.  Wisdom must come forward.  People must be given hope and led forward.  I’m tired of the whining and sarcasm.  I want truth and action.  Who will bring it?  We must open our eyes, open our minds and get busy.  It will not be easy.  But we do have precedence if we are Children of God.

Mau-edge brings us togever

Mau-edge is what bwings us togever today.  That bwessed dweam above all dweams.

6 months of preparation, a church wedding, professional photographer, restaurant food, expensive cake, DJ, hall rented, 4 attendants on each side.

A quick decision, backyard wedding, photos snapped with a phone, homemade refreshments, a few friends and family gathered to celebrate at home, a single friend on each side.

So what is the real issue?  Both couples are happily married.  Neither is saddled with a wedding debt.  Both sets of parents are tired but proud of their children.  Both brides were beautifully attired.  Both grooms were enthralled with their beauties.

What will they remember?  What will they forget?  What will they endure?  How will they endure?  Mama and daddy pray for their happiness and success.  Mama and daddy pray for their happiness and success.

I am old.  It is evident in the pictures.  I wore myself out.  It is evident in the pictures.  I was personally unprepared.  It is evident in the pictures.  As I look at them, I see the joy and the love.  They are sweet; they are sad.  There are things that time, no doubt, will erase and other things time will amplify.  When you are a moving target, you can pull it off.  But the camera freezes action, moments, states of being, lumps, droops and disfiguration.  People think cameras don’t lie, but they do.  I see it all the time.  I teach people that when they are using photographs as resource.  So why could not the camera have lied just a little bit in my favor?

Looking though it now from 2 weeks out, there are winces.  But there are smiles.  I can overlook the bride’s mother for the love and joy that existed in about every corner.  I see the things that were missed or wrong.  I remember the scramble to get it in place and fixed.  I see the not quite.  But I see the so right.

It is all a part of the process, the human frailty, the divine provision.  The mind works to explain.  The heart works to accept.  Moments of anger or frustration are replaced with the sweetness.  Some things still incite emotional discomfort.  But hopefully even those will take their place in the good with time.

What was learned, in a practical sense, will probably never serve us well, for with the grace of God, there will never be a need.  I am old.  I shall never pass this way again.  I knew that going in.  I knew that coming out.  I don’t even know if I could have done it differently.  I don’t know that it really matters when all is considered. 

And yet it does teach us.  It reveals the sweet imperfection of our dreams; it shows us our inner flaws and failures.  It woos us to the Father of all.  It links us to age old questions.  It requires acceptance, humility, grace and a sense of humor.

Mau-edge is what bwings us togever today.  That bwessed dweam above all dweams.

If I were a rich . . er . . . woman

I have seen two or three documentaries and once even a short lived reality show about people who win the lottery or sweepstakes and the effects it has on their lives.  I’ve never really seen a good effect.  Yet, I must admit that all those stories had one thing in common.  A poor man or woman with no money management skills and great financial need won the ‘big one.’  Within a year in most cases, the person’s life was destroyed, he had as little or less than before and was much worse off because most of his family and friends had become his enemies.  One man I saw still had a stipend from it, but wouldn’t let the interviewer show his face or location.  He had to move away from his former home for his own physical and mental safety.  He was sad and frustrated by the way it turned out.

Many of those people were trying to sell the fancy ‘toys’ they bought to pay the bills generated from such.  They were clinging to the most ridiculous relics from their spending binge.  Eyes hollow, they faced their former conditions, but without the innocence and hope that they had before and often without friends and family.

As a young mother, most days I had barely enough to go around for each day.  My family did not go hungry, but life was hard and more than once I was humbled by the lack around me.  Yet, I was never one to live in a mental state of lack.  I made do and I found ways to get by.  I sewed; I painted; I taught private music lessons.  For a time I was hired on to teach art in a non accredited program from a good university.  Granted, I never turned it into a fortune and it required skill to stretch what I had to even be adequate.  But I made it happen and there was always enough –barely enough- but enough.

Yet I can remember hearing the tales of people who won those large amounts from sweeps and lotteries and thinking “If only I could win….”  How would it have changed my life and the life of my family?  One of my favorite musicals is “Fiddler on the Roof.”  And of course one of my favorite moments is when Tevea sings “If I were a rich man…”  The song strikes a chord, for who hasn’t dreamed of being free to have, free to go, free to help? 

My father always said “Life is a series of trades.  You trade your day, your energy, your ability, your life force for money which you then trade for food, clothing, entertainment, transportation.”  He always told me that money has no value except what it can be traded for.  He was solvent.  He did much good with his money.  He had what he needed for a life of adventure, love, dreams and joy.  He kept a portion, saved for the unexpected and he gave a good amount away.  To me, he was the ‘rich man’ everyone admired, yet by many standards he was not overly successful. 

My grandfather was a gentleman farmer.  He owned a huge herd of registered cattle, his own machinery, grew his own cattle feed and paid cash for everything he bought including the machinery and new cars.  Yet to know him, he was a simple man who worked hard and lived without finery.  His motto was learn what you need to know, work hard, plan well and wait as long as it takes.

I have asked myself how receiving a huge amount of money all at one time would change my life.  How would it change the relationships I have?  Would it destroy me?  When you ease into wealth, or fight your way in as some would say, you have opportunity to adjust to the having.  Those around you learn to adjust to your wealth as well.  They accept your right to give or not give them what they want.  I think one reason is that slowly acquired wealth changes your surroundings slowly.  It changes your circle of friends and acquaintances.

But wealth gained quickly seems to spur demands from other people.  If you walked into a windfall, why shouldn’t they.  If you didn’t go through the process of learn, plan, work and wait, why should they have to?  I think of Alfie P Doolittle saying “I touched everybody I knew, now everybody touches me.”  And “No. A fiver will be plenty, more than that and it makes you feel responsible.”  In the movie it makes us laugh.  In life, not so much.

So what if I gained a fortune over night?  I can say it would not change my life much, I’ve always thought I would just go on working and living simply, but would I?  We live a comfortable life in a livable home.  We have needs and bills and we juggle and prioritize to get it all done.  So I ask myself, is the reason I don’t have a fortune because I haven’t learned and disciplined myself to an adequate level?  Would simplicity still call me?  Would I be hated by family and friends in a short period of time?  Most of all, could I be trusted to listen to my God for when, how and how much?

If I were to receive a windfall fortune, what would my life be in a year?  In the end, it is a trade.  Money is still only worth what you can trade it for.  The Bible exhorts us to trade if for incorruptible wealth.  And the questions remain.

Just thinking.

Of Innocence and Ignorance

The cacophony ended and the four young men sighed in ignorant bliss.  I said “Well, let’s pray and then start again.”  I had taped the mock 'performance'; I knew.

The leader stood up and prayed, “Oh Lord, thank you for this group and for the opportunities you are giving us to reach the world for you.  Thank you for this awesome sound and for the parts each of us brings to the mic.”  I felt the pain that would follow.  I was embarrassed for the coming minutes, but I knew, as the arrogant excited prayer went on, what had to happen.  When the young men resounded with confident “Amen”s at the end of that ridiculous prayer I keyed up the tape.

The four of them sat in stunned amazement at the discord and foolish showmanship without skill.  At the end of the recording they sat with averted stares and heads down.  Finally one young man stood up, looked at the ceiling and without making eye contact, said “We have a lot of work to do.”

I had been assigned the task of bringing some music to a youth meeting and so I had pulled together this inexperienced quartet of teenage guys who had little training, but good potential.  I chose a popular contemporary Christian song that would be hard to mess up and we practiced well before presenting it to the group.  They were nervous and humble; they did a very good job and received a good amount of praise which they were, at first, convinced was undeserved.  Then they got the call.

The invite to do a half hour program at a slightly larger gathering was eagerly accepted by the ‘leader’ without any consultation or advice.  By the time he came to me, they already had the program worked out, including several little speeches and several rock star showmanship moments, and several challenging vocal pieces.  They were ready to take their place in the sun.  They were already playing with a stage name for their ‘group’ and marketing techniques.  I had a job ahead of me.

For a week, I worked with the individuals on parts and voice quality.  They really didn’t take it very seriously.  They were each more concerned with how they would strut on stage and how they would ‘handle’ their mic.  And to top it off, the lead time was not really what I could have desired.  And so we met early that Saturday to go over the program.  While their antics were humorous, I knew the humor would not extend into any performance, so I suggested we do a serious run through of the program start to finish and tape it so we could see how it flowed.  It didn't.

The result was sobering and the next week consisted of some pretty intense practice.  In the end, they discarded the marketing strategies and the stage antics and ended up doing a pretty good job.  They did parts of it for our church and were duly appreciated.  But the inflated egos from the first performance were excluded in their loss of innocence.  Life happened and the ‘group’ broke apart in various cycles of teenage drama, though they did remain friends.

There is a precious, humorous innocence that covers the beginning of about any new venture.  Unsure we work and worry and trust and extend.  We pray because we understand how badly we need it.  Our insecurities drive our humility and faith.  All the hard work pays us dividends of praise and encouragement and we begin to think ourselves to possess a certain invulnerability.  I’ve seen it play out many times.  We become rock stars.  We get market fever.   Pride goes before a fall.  After the fall, we summon our courage, examine our direction and pick ourselves back up having lost the pure innocence of our beginning, but becoming more fitted for true service.

I Believe in Prayer

 I believe in praying for things.  I believe it is right and pleasing to God when we ask him to heal, to provide, to redeem.  During Jesus’ life, he healed every person who asked.  The only need he didn’t meet was the one that was not requested.  He even brought money out of a fish’s mouth when Peter was concerned about the temple tax.  Of course, he talked it out with him first. 

 I believe in praying when the need arises, when the trouble comes, when the sickness overtakes us.  I believe that God is honored when we ask and receive.  I think he is glorified whether or not we are grateful, though he does require a grateful heart in return.  That is valuable topic in its own right, but not today’s topic.

 I have often asked God the hard questions when I prayed and did not receive the expected end.  I try to do so with a willing and respectful heart.  And so I have asked of late.  Prayers that my mind said “This should be given,’ have resulted is agony while others have been answered speedily.  There is always the question “Why?” scattered among the tears.  Last week was one of those as our world said  “Farewell” to a sweet young mother of 20 years with an adorable baby girl.

  Yet today, I heard the answer in my spirit and my mind raced for a bit along side the One who gives wisdom and comfort.  I was reminded that there were 2 thieves at the crucifixion of Jesus.  One angrily yelled “Get me out of this!”  I realized that 90% of my prayer life consists of my insistence that God do something with my situation.  I want him to get me or someone I care about out of some difficulty often created through rebellion or foolish behavior.  Sometimes this is not the case, but more often it is.  Jesus had no reply to that thief's prayer.

 The other thief cried out “Take me with you.”  He had faith that the moment was not the end.  And he wanted to follow and be with this messiah who was dying in humble triumph.  Jesus answered “Today.”

I was already aware that there are prayers that do not coincide with truth.  Jesus did have the power to refuse death.  But he chose it for our redemption.  That was the truth of his mission, his destiny.  He could not choose otherwise and be true.  And so when  truth will not agree to get us out of the situation we are in, do we have the faith to ask Him to keep us close, to take us with him even through death?  Can we believe He really knows?  Can we accept the love that says “No” when our heart is breaking and our world is being undermined?  Can we lay aside the clichés and admit we do not know but we must trust?  A good cliché sounds so much better than a gut wrenching cry.

 I recall a prayer I prayed, or rather yelled, in pain for my daughter.  I cried; I begged; I insisted.  I did feel that God was near, but the heavens might as well have been bronze.  In retrospect, I can see the beautiful, confident woman I know today was a result of that unanswered prayer.  My prayer had no knowledge though it was full of passion.  I am still praying for a resolution of that issue.  But I am confident that my God had this in his heart all along and at the right time in the right way, he will bring the right answer.  His ear was not deaf; His hand was not weak; His arm was not short.  But truth had to be truth.

 So, why does a young mother, having resolved the eternal questions, have to die when so many were praying for a different result?  I will offer no excuse.  I will use no cliché.  I will simply say “I don’t understand but I trust that He ‘took her with Him’ on His glorious plan.”  I will believe that He will work all things for her and her family’s good whether or not I see it.  I will show love when I have the chance and pray for grace if any words are needed.  When I cannot see, I must trust.  And when another need is evident, I shall pray with passion believing.