Stretchmarks

Unsung Heroes

Our society is saturated with adoration and idolization of entertainers, sports figures and politicians—people we call our heroes.  Sadly, we are quick to dismantle the same folks when they show any weakness or frailty.   But what about those folks who live in your neighborhood—the ones you really know—the ones who love without condition?

There are many unsung heroes that live in my community—people who go above and beyond to demonstrate the Father’s heart for another soul.  These often shy, unsung heroes are not motivated by money or greed or ambition.  Most don’t want to be acknowledged for their expressions of love. They know a good investment when they see one and realize that one day—maybe a long time from now—there will be immeasurable dividends.

For decades, Jim’s wife has battled mental illness and yet he has remained faithful to his covenant with her.  He has known embarrassment, ridicule and loneliness…and still he loves.

Jane visits her brain-injured grandson in the nursing facility almost daily.  His room is decorated in his favorite team’s colors.  She wipes his drool and tells him funny stories; she understands his slurred speech when he responds to her.  It’s humbling to watch.

Betty has been married to her sweetie fifty-plus years.  Now this once vibrant man depends on her to move him from room to room.  They’ve developed a language all their own to signal for help.  They have learned love in all its forms.

On Sunday evenings, Arlene belts out Louise’s favorite hymns.   An audience of one…but maybe the angels sing along too!

Lucy cares for handicapped individuals; some have been in her tender care for years and are like family members.  She’s not embarrassed to bring them to family weddings.  Oh, to be loved like that!

Randy and his grandsons clean driveways and sidewalks for the widows on his street.  Dennis adds value and dignity to widows and orphans by providing heat in their homes.   That’s enough to warm the hardest heart!

Josh sends notes to encourage those on difficult journeys.  Sandy generously gives from her fixed income to strengthen another in hard times.  May God reward them openly.

On sleepless nights, alone in her apartment, Wanza prays for family and friends.  Only when she gets to heaven will she know the full impact of those whispered conversations with God.

Jack loves flower gardens; he plants hundreds of tulips and daffodils in his wooded yard.  The Creator’s heart is showcased right there in the woods and the sight makes my heart leap for joy!

Mike makes sure a fatherless child gets his share of pizza.  Joe shares his bountiful sweet corn harvest with friends and neighbors.  This equals sweet communion for soul and body.

Love is patient…love is kind…love always bears up…always trusts, always hopes, always endures…takes its delight in the truth.  1 Corinthians 13

Mary cheers for the football team even though her “not-so-perfect” child will never play.  David forgave the negligent driver for killing his loved one. 

Love is NOT…jealous, boastful, proud, rude or selfish, nor easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs, does not gloat over other people’s sins.  1 Corinthians 13

 

Let’s celebrate those unsung heroes in our neighborhoods who express the Father's heart by adding value and dignity to all our lives!

 

Waste Management

It’s the season to purge, organize, prioritize—also known as waste management of time, resources and relationships.  Resolutions?  Nah---I procrastinate too much to get around to those.  But there’s something about a clean slate—a new calendar, a new year and a fresh start that gives one hope. 

Purging requires one to throw out stuff--a painful task when one is a keeper--a source of stretch marks, if you will.  However, there are exceptions.

I opened my refrigerator door one recent Monday morning only to be reminded that I really am learning disabled.  Wouldn’t you think that a
Golden Buckeye Card carrier should have learned by now that everything under the sun has an expiration date?  It’s not that I don’t know, but my procrastination makes allowances for crud to grow in my life.

Crud—also known as mold, mildew and toxins contaminate food and people.  Why would an intelligent person allow such things?  Too busy?  Too lazy?  In denial?  I pondered this malady as I cleaned and detoxified the refrigerator. 

Wait a minute.  Waste not, want not, right?  I could just scrape off the mold and use what is left in the jar.  What’s the worst that could happen?  What if I just poured fresh milk into the clabbered milk?  Maybe that principle in Luke 5:37 applies: And no one puts new wine into old wineskins.  For the new wine would burst the wineskins, spilling the wine and ruining the skins.  The glass won’t burst but…oh, never mind. 

I muttered, "Dear Lord, what if I died and someone discovered this disgusting mess?"  What would they think?  That poor widow…she just gave up on life.  Maybe she didn't know that cleanliness is next to Godliness.  Maybe just one resolution...

I thought of relationships I have had in the past that grew toxic.  How did I let that happen?  Simply put--I ignored some of the basics of a healthy relationship.  There are needy folks that pretty much suck the life out of you.  Others are dumpsters looking for a convenient and safe environment to dump their garbage.  Only problem is, they ignore the NO DUMPING sign.  The inner voice yells, "Clean up needed in Land of Denial!"

Food and medicines have expiration dates that should not be ignored. Rancorous relationships should have expiration dates as well. King Solomon's Waste Management 101 is found in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.  Verses 1 & 6 relate to this subject: There is a right time to do things, a right time for everything on the earth… A right time to search and another to count your losses; a right time to hold on and another to let go.  (The Message)  

The beginning of this New Year is a great time to examine ourselves for toxicity and purge where needed. There is something quite appealing about clean vessels ready to be filled with good things and healthy relationships!

On My Father's Side--On My Mother's Side

Joseph and Mary were no different than other anxious young parents expecting their firstborn child.  No doubt they wondered who he would look like…would he be strong as Joseph?  Would this child be thoughtful like Mary?  Will he make a difference in this world?  And the nagging question: What if he isn’t “perfect”?

But there were differences.  Each was visited by an angel to confirm the identity of this precious bundle of joy, so they knew beforehand his name—Jesus, the Son of God.  Of course he’ll be perfect!  Prophets foretold his birth hundreds of years before this "Word became flesh and dwelled among us" happened.  Would he be like Elijah or Isaiah?  I imagine that even with this knowledge they had questions.  I know the angel said...but what about....?  What if he...?  What will we do when he wants to go off on his own?  

This precocious child, Jesus, knew who He was and what He was called to do.  The lyrics of this song written by Felicia Shifflet indicate His youthful knowledge of the difference between eternal and earthly matters.

On my Father’s Side—On My Mother’s Side

Just a young boy in the temple one day

Shared with the doctors; they were so amazed.

Never had they seen one so young speak so swift

They asked him many questions, conversation went like this…

What’s your name son?

On my mother’s side—my name is Jesus

On my father’s side—they call me Emmanuel

How old are you?

On my mother’s side—I’m now 12 years

On my father’s side—I’ve just always been

Where are you from?

On my mother’s side—I’m from Bethlehem

On my father’s side—It’s New Jerusalem

What’s your plan?

On my mother’s side—I’ll be crucified but…

On my father’s side—in three days I’ll arise

Bridge: He is the Son of God and yet the Son of Man

And I can’t help but wonder how Joseph must have felt

Thru an open door that day he heard his son reply.

He said, “You see, I’m the King of Kings on my father’s side.”

 

Jesus felt the tug-of-war between earthly and heavenly matters.  Don't you feel it as well? I believe it is because God, according to King Solomon, planted eternity in the human heart.

 Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.  Ecclesiastes 3:11 (NLT)

Joseph and Mary struggled to make sense of it all.  We cannot see the whole scope of God's work from beginning to end, but just like Joseph and Mary, we can trust that it will be accomplished.

That gnawing, empty place in your heart is meant to be filled by the Eternal One whose name is Jesus--on His mother's side.  On His Father's side, His name is Emmauel--God with us.   Now that's what I call a bundle of joy!

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Maggie was seated next to me in the backseat of the car as four of us headed to Susan’s retirement party.  As we meandered through the countryside we chit chatted about Susan's future plans and the great meal awaiting us at Ada’s Catering

Maggie ignored the chatter and flatly stated: “My mother died yesterday and I can’t think of one good memory of her!”  I was stunned.  “Not even one?” I asked.  “Not even one…” she declared. 

I could not imagine such a bereft childhood.  My first thought of my mother is laughter; she makes everyone laugh and is so fun.  She continued, “My mother was not a nice person.”  She gave no more explanation—just a seven word summary. 

We arrived at Ada's and the awkward silence ended when Nancy opened the door to the dining room.  Oh, the smell of delicious comfort food.  Out of our mouths came "Yum!"  Perhaps this would trigger a pleasant memory for Maggie.  No response.  Fifteen women talked non-stop during our family-style meal, but I could not get her statement out of my mind. 

I prodded “What about your father, Maggie?  What was he like?”  Her eyes danced.  “I loved my Daddy. He was the best.  We had this ritual on school days that was very special.”  “Well…tell me about it!” I begged as I savored my last bite of apple pie.

My father was a professor at the college in our town in Pennsylvania.  He walked to work—the same way I walked to school.  There was a rock wall on the way with a loose rock.  He would hide notes for me there and I would write notes to him and leave them in our secret spot.

I responded, “That is one of the dearest stories I’ve ever heard.  Do your children know this tale of love notes tucked between a rock and a hard place?”  No, I’ve never shared it.

“But you must share it!” I insisted.  “What kinds of things would he write to you?”

Sometimes he told me how much he loved me—you know—my red hair and freckles that looked hand-painted just for me.  He liked to watch me skip down the street when I thought no one was looking.  If I struggled at school he told me: Never give up.  I believe in you!

What kinds of things did you write to your Daddy?

I confided my secret crush on a cute boy in my class.  He didn’t scold me.  I loved that about him.  I told him what I dreamed of being when I grew up and he let me dream.  He watched me decorate my doll house so he realized I just might become an Interior Decorator.  He cushioned the sad part of me—the part that didn’t understand my mother.  It was his gift to me.

Maggie’s father was intentional about expressing love for his daughter.  He spent quality time to write the notes; his act of service found a place to hide the notes.  He wrote words of affirmation which she could physically touch and read again and again.  The five love languages (as described by Dr. Gary Chapman) combined to make the gift exchange.  Her Daddy was fluent in love languages!

Do you wrestle to give the perfect gift—especially words of affirmation?  It’s good to say I love you or I delight in you but those phrases hold little imagination.  The Hebrew language in the Old Testament offers lovely examples of specific expressions of love.

King David wrote in Psalm 139:17,18  How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them!  If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand.  When I awake, I am still with You.

King Solomon wrote: Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm. For love is as strong as death, its jealousy as enduring as the grave. Love flashes like fire, the brightest kind of flame. Song of Solomon 8:6 (NLT)

I treasure this image of God’s love found in Isaiah 49:16.  Behold, I have indelibly imprinted (tattooed) a picture of you on the palm of each of my hands… (Amplified bible)

Who is on your Gift Exchange list?  Make your gift something memorable—even if it is tucked between a rock and a hard place!

 

 

 

What Does it Take to Feed a Family of Five?

It’s a simple question with a complex answer. 

Isaiah, almost five years old, was eating chicken strips with salsa, sour cream and shredded cheese.  “Is this chicken from a real chicken?” he asked.  “Yes it is!” I answered.  He looked surprised.  “And we can thank a cow for the sour cream and cheese you’re having too!” I announced.  That information was almost too much for him to handle.  His brain was processing as we began a discussion about how we get our food.  

The next week we were seated at his home with his sister, Elizabeth and parents, Jonathan and Emma.  He volunteered to ask God to bless the food prepared for us.  “Dear Jesus, thank you for this food.  Bless it to our bodies.  Amen.”

The food source dialogue began again.  “We have the rice farmer to thank for the brown rice.” I said.  He had helped me prepare honey baked chicken and corn bread muffins so he chimed in “And the chicken farmer!”  Then we really got down to basics and listed many people involved in this meal.

Someone grew spices—curry and mustard.

A beekeeper collected honey from the bees. 

A farmer grew chickens, providing meat and eggs.

Some grain farmers grew corn & wheat in our muffins.

A dairy farmer milked cows to provide milk and butter.

Vineyard growers provided grapes.

What about transportation?  Farmers and delivery trucks took the goods to market for us to buy.

Farm workers and migrant workers picked crops.

Someone designed and made packages for the food.

People designed advertising so that we could see what was available.

Daddy had to work at a job to make money to buy the food.

Someone printed the money for Mommy to use to buy groceries.

Daddy added, “What about the dishes and tableware?  A silversmith made tableware to use and potters made the dishes!”

Our list was getting really long and involved.  Should we begin the blessing again?  I looked down at the table.  “Oh, my!  This is the best one of all.  Your Daddy made this walnut table from wood grown on my grandpa’s farm.  Your Great Grandpa Smith and Papa Joe cut the wood so that Daddy could make the table.  Isn’t that amazing?”

Jonathan told him that he made the table at his Uncle Charlie’s house, using his tools and workroom.  The table is a family table in the truest sense of the word.

So what does it take to feed a family of five?  It takes a multitude of people with vision, skills and persistence in doing their jobs. 

During our sweet communion around the family table, we discovered how dependent we are on each other for our daily needs.  Asking God our Provider to bless our meal took on new meaning.  This was not just a simple weekday meal—it was a meal of Thanksgiving for all those involved in providing our food.

 

 

 

 We took this photo on a recent trip to a farm.

 

 

 

 

 Jonathan picking grapes as a young boy.

 

 

 

 

 

  We are grateful for farmers and gardeners who grow our food!

  

 

 

 

The family table

 

 

 

 

 

 Happy Thanksgiving to all...

and may you enjoy sweet communion as you gather around your family table!

 

 

 

He That Planteth a Tree is the Servant of God

He that planteth a tree is the servant of God; he provideth a kindness for many generations, and faces that he hath not seen shall bless him.   ~ Henry Van Dyke~

I live in central Ohio where trees are plentiful; hardwoods, pines and apple orchards supply beauty and bounty for us.  Relatives visiting from other states often remark about our tree-filled landscapes.  Each of our four seasons is marked with breath-taking beauty. 

 

 

 

Those who plant trees propagate hope and a future.  The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit.  ~Nelson Henderson~

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Wise folks considered the truth in this Welsh proverb and planted in hope of bumper crops of fruit: A seed hidden in the heart of an apple is an orchard invisible.  As an apple lover I am very grateful for their foresight.

In The Wisdom of the Sands, Antoine de Saint-Exupery wrote: The tree is more than first a seed, then a stem, then a living trunk, and then dead timber.  The tree is a slow, enduring force straining to win the sky.

John Muir wrote: I never saw a discontented tree.  They grip the ground as though they liked it, and though fast rooted they travel about as far as we do.  They go wandering forth in all directions with every wind, going and coming like ourselves, traveling with us around the sun two million miles a day, and through space heaven knows how fast and far!

Our world is chaotic at present and it comforts me to know that some things will remain constant as stated in Genesis 8:22.  “So long as the earth exists, sowing time and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, and day and night will not cease.” 

So whether you are a tree hugger, tree logger or somewhere in between, take an oxygen-rich breath and enjoy the beauty, bounty and life given in the trees.  Then...consider planting at least one tree for future generations. 

 

Circling the Drain

“There is a beginning and an ending for everything that is alive.  In between is living.”  Bryan Mellonie

I heard a comedian refer to some elderly folks, “Why they’re so old they’re circling the drain!”  That imagery made me laugh.  Watching it happen is another matter.  My mother recently fractured her pelvis and has been in a nursing center for rehabilitation.  While these centers offer needed assistance for families, it is definitely not good advertisement for the aging process.

During regular visits with her I have noticed many similarities between the beginning and ending of life.  Imaginary friends are common among infants and elderly folks.  Add to this: Toothless grins.  Diapers.  Bibs.  Caregivers.  Dependency. Babbling.  Lack of privacy.  Loss of dignity.  Icky food.  Repetitive routines.  Flash cards to test cognition.  Naps, nightmares and disrupted sleep.  Cries for help and tantrums. 

I watched group therapy one Friday afternoon as eight female patients in wheelchairs were placed in a circle.  Four physical  therapists threw in four colorful beach balls to begin their “play”.  They kicked and giggled at their feeble attempts; most seemed to enjoy the diversion and camaraderie.

Andy peeked in the room and asked to get in on the action.  He wore a Vietnam Veteran ball cap, sat erect and seemed intent on a mission.  I asked a therapist, “Isn’t he too old to be a Vietnam vet?”  Mary said, “We’re not sure but we think he is around eighty years old.  He must have been a career military man.  We do know that he flew helicopters and transported three different presidents of our country!” 

“That is amazing!” I answered.  Oh, how I would love to hear the stories trapped in his Alzheimer-ridden mind.  Just then he reached over and stroked Betty’s arm—the way a husband reaches for his wife just to be sure of her presence.  Kelly said, “You might remind him he’s married!”  Mary noted that his wife comes daily to visit but he seldom recognizes her.

That reminded me of another time I was caring for my aunt who lived in an Alzheimer’s unit.  Bob was always on the make and asked Shirley,  “Hey, baby, you want to bump bones?”  A staff member redirected him but he returned a few minutes later.  Shirley acknowledged his advances with extended arm as if he was royalty.  Some desires never wane!

Most in this group are temporary residents recovering from surgery, fractures or other chronic diseases.  Phillis, Linda and Robbie were tethered to oxygen tanks to ease their labored breathing.  Gladys had open heart surgery; Betty sported a new pace maker.  Darlene broke both feet in a fall.  Linda and Wanza (Mom) told funny stories to brighten the dismal atmosphere.  

The therapists watched sports on a flat screen TV and joked among themselves about daily life.  At a glance they seem detached but this is vital for survival in this line of work.  Mary admitted, “I like to work with this generation.  They’re kind and polite.  The next generation—the Baby Boomers—are demanding and selfish.  I don’t know if I can handle very much of their attitudes.” 

I looked around this circle and wondered… What kinds of dreams did they have as children?  Did they work at something they enjoyed?  Were they loved?  So many treasured stories exist in those minds—so much wisdom and experience.  But now vitality and vigor are drained.

Therapists changed games to work different muscles; they started to balk.  Mary prodded, “Just two more minutes.”  These precious souls in fragile bodies were wheeled back to their rooms, one by one.

Andy returned with a bright purple teddy bear--on another mission.  “Oh, no!  Ann has been at it again!” Joe remarks.   Ann, a.k.a. Robin Hood, is involved in redistribution of stuffed animals in the center.   Andy was the latest recipient of her good deeds.

In the living room Carl sat motionless for forty-five minutes.  Suddenly, he stretched his six-foot-four-inch frame straight up and yelled, “What the hell am I supposed to be doing?”  Many of us have wondered the same thing at some point in our lives.

I have incurred more stretch marks these last few weeks as I have witnessed those circling the drain of this temporary life.  I talked with my friend Cindy in the hall one morning--both of us struggle with the role reversals with our Moms. 

King David wrote: Your eyes could see me as an embryo, but in your book all my days were already written; my days had been shaped before any of them existed.  Psalm 139:16 Complete Jewish Bible

 

Infants arrive from heaven, fresh from the Father’s heart.  These patients may soon face their Maker and will see His heart.  Their failing minds and bodies seem ready; I pray their spirits are as well.  It must be a welcome possibility for those who believe!

Magnum Opus

 

 

 

A dewy spider web

spun in silence proclaims,

"I'm here by design!"

 


  

 

 I enjoy mornings in late summer...mornings filled with dewy wonders that appear like sparkling crystal on the grass and foliage.  

I was on my weather-beaten porch enjoying a mug of steaming coffee when I noticed the spider’s magnum opus covered in dew.  The intricate pattern of the web fascinated me.  How does a spider intuitively know to create this wonder?  I wondered…

 

I later discovered another magnum opus spun on the back of a lawn  chair.  More wonder… What plan exists for the spiders...or people?   

 

 

 

"There comes a special moment in everyone's life, a moment for which that person was born.  That special opportunity, when he seizes it, will fulfill his mission...in that moment he finds greatness.  It is his finest hour."  Winston Churchill

I believe that just like spiders, mankind is here by Divine design for specific purposes.  Do you know what magnum opus our Creator designed just for you?  Oh, the joy of discovery!

 

  

Marriage is Like Eating Beans...

Marriage is like eating beans…first the flavor, then the bang!                  ~Peruvian Proverb~

I laughed aloud when Pastor Pepe told me this when I was in Peru years ago.  It’s quite a visual picture of married life.  I’ve met some couples whose marriages give new meaning to the Big Bang Theory!

So what gives marriage its flavor?  What causes the bang?

In the Book of Common Prayers, traditional vows and prayers give some clues of the positives and negatives of life—flavor versus bang.

 To have and to hold: I met a sweet couple recently who have been married seventy plus years.  I asked, “What’s your secret?”  They grinned at each other and she replied, “We still like each other!”  That’s as sweet as wedding cake.

For better: this might include friendship, straightforward  communication, fun, children, grandchildren, satisfying work,  spiritual growth,  vacations, family pets, humor and memories.

For worse: discord (euphemistic term), prodigal children, separation or tragedies of every description can cause much bang in a relationship.  “It’s the couples who learn to weather life’s storms who come to feel love in all its forms.”  ~Meron Reinhart~

In sickness: this may include physical, mental, emotional or spiritual sickness.  Any of these can cause stress and lots of bang.  Joe and I were unprepared for one of the side-effects of a terminal illness—PRESSURE in the marriage.  That was a troubling discovery and we soon realized we needed some Divine help.

In health: what a wonderful gift from the Giver of Life.  O, to enjoy it more and not take health for granted.

For richer: it’s a relative term—and we had no richer relatives.  Richness is not measured only in money but in relationships.  Proverbs 15:17 reads: A bowl of vegetables with someone you love is better than steak with someone you hate.

For poorer: many couples have faced this big bang.  There are thousands navigating this path right now with job losses and major economic changes.  Couples may develop emotional stretch marks during turbulent, head-banging seasons of change and adjustment.

To love and to cherish: a lovely Laguna Pueblo prayer describes this well.  “I add my breath to your breath that our days may be long on the earth.  That the days of our people may be long, that we shall be as one person, that we may finish our road together.”  That’s what I call flavor!

Until we are parted by death: It’s good we don’t know the full impact of this portion of the vows.  What constitutes a "long enough" marriage?  That probably depends on the couple.  I visited a widow who had been married sixty-seven years.  I commented, “Wow!  That’s a long time.”  She quickly added, “Not long enough!”  

Joe and I had the “D” discussion before he died.  We reflected on our forty plus years of marriage and realized there was sweet, sweet flavor and considerable bang.  My most cherished memory is when we looked at one another and truthfully said, “I’ve never been unfaithful to you!” 

Our wedding anniversary is almost here again and it’s bittersweet.  I plan to celebrate by attending an afternoon wedding to support another couple full of hope, dreams and desires.  I will pray they enjoy a flavorful marriage with minimum bang.  Hope is a wonderful thing!

 

 

Scripts Illustrated

I have illustrated scriptures for my grandchildren for more than a decade.  Children enjoy getting real mail so I regularly send them cards with photos or graphics that explain a simple truth.   Imagine their delight when I use a photo of them!  Here are a few examples for you to enjoy. 

 

 

Be imitators of God, as beloved children, and walk in love.  Ephesisans 5:1,2

 

 

 

 

 No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no one’s heart has imagined all the things God has prepared for those who love Him. 1 Corinthians 2:9

 

 

 

 

If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.  Romans 12:18

 

 

 

 

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb.  Psalm 139:13

This is my granddaughter, Savannah, who should arrive in September.  I'm excited to meet her!

 

 

 

We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost.  We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way.  And God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong, on him, on him.  Isaiah 53:6 (Message)

 

 He who trusts in his riches will fall, but the righteous will flourish like foliage.  Proverbs 11:28 NKJV

 

 

 

As long as the earth remains, there will be planting and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night.  Genesis 8:22

 

 

 
Can two people walk together without agreeing on the  direction? Amos 3:3       

Aunt Lois (87) Mom (89) 

 

 

 

 

Behold, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth I tell you of them.  Isaiah 42:9 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your word is a lamp before my feet and a light for my journey.  Psalm 119:105 (CEB)

 

 

 

 

 

Now it’s your turn…get out those cameras and look for new ways to bring life to the simple truths found in God’s word.  Make your own compilation of Scripts Illustrated and leave a lasting heritage for generations to come!

The Reverend

The very mention of a high school class reunion can make one’s stomach knot.  Why are so many held back in school?  Literally—held back in the defining portion of our young lives called “school”?

Some hold these truths to be self-evident—all those nicknames and labels put on us in our youth.  You don’t think so?  Just open up your yearbook and begin to reminisce—or wince.  We still define one another by what’s written and photographed as records of our young lives.

Oh my goodness!  I forgot about so-and-so.  Don’t you remember when he picked his nose…and ate the boogers?  Yeah, it was in the fifth grade...or was it the tenth?  Now that girl was fast—everybody knew it.  What a nerd!  All he ever did was read books.  Yes, he was quite the jock back in the day.  Et cetera, et cetera and so forth…

But what is the rest of the story?

What about those who were late bloomers—the ones no one thought would succeed at anything?  Did those cute little cheerleaders keep their figures?  Are the jocks now walking with artificial knees?  And the wall-flowers?  Wow!  Some of them turned into beauties.

Name tags help at these functions, but somehow the Spirit of Pinocchio shows up in a grandiose way.  WOW, you haven’t changed a bit!  Really?  And you still know how to spin a tale…

Okay, I confess.  I feel a little smug when I see the cutesy girl from high school that is now full-figured.  But payday came to me as well.  I hated you in Spanish III.  You always were the teacher’s pet…  Get over it!  Peer pressure can last a lifetime.

Class reunions provide an opportunity to see how lives have changed—for better or for worse—in sickness and in health—till death do us part.  I have had my share of emotional stretch marks at a reunion.  Thankfully these occasions seem to grow sweeter with time and everyone is grateful to be alive and well. 

Joe never attended a high school reunion; actually he never was formally invited, but he would not have gone.  He didn’t want to face some of his painful memories or the still open wound caused by something written in his yearbook; but he graciously accompanied me to several of mine.  I wanted his classmates to see the amazing transformation in his life--but he declined.

On a hot summer day in 1979, he had a "Godwink" reunion that made up for missing the official events.  We walked the grounds of Ha Ha Tonka State Park in Camdenton, Missouri,  just prior to the official dedication of this land. 

Joe was given his official name tag as a participant in the ceremony.  He never liked to be called “Reverend” and lo and behold, this name tag read: The Reverend Joe Blevins.  Oh, my! 

We met a couple on the path he knew from high school and they all immediately recognized one another.  The woman’s eyes darted from his name tag: The Reverend Joe Blevins back to his face.  Her stunned expression told the full story.  How could this be?  Is this the Joey that I knew back in Vandalia?  The Reverend?  Well, I’ll be damned, uh, I mean-- darned!

They knew him as a party boy and one who never applied himself in academics.  He was about to take center stage, seated with Governor Joe Teasdale and Chief of the Osage Indian Nation, Sylvester J. Tinker, and several other local participants.  I reveled in that moment.

As I watched this scenario, a scripture came to mind: "Here it is again, the Great Reversal: many of the first ending up last, and the last first."  Matthew 20:16 (Message Bible) How sweet it is!

Are you stuck with an image from your school days?  There is hope for all those held back in school.  Transformation is a good thing!

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For more information about Ha Ha Tonka State Park go to www.mostateparks.com It's a beautiful and historic place to visit!

 

Vintage America

I have visited several countries and lived outside these boundaries and I can say with certainty: I am grateful to live in the United States of America—with all her flaws and strengths—in this appointed time in history.

Saint Paul wrote in Acts 17:26 these words: From one man He made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and He marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands

Woodie Guthrie  set these words to music:

This land is your land, this land is my land,

From California to the New York Island,

From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters,

This land was made for you and me..

Visionaries: courageous men and women left their native lands and dared to pursue change to establish a “more perfect union”.  We are indebted to these visionaries who established this land for you and me.

Vast: this is a vast and magnificent nation from “sea to shining sea” as described by Katherine I. Bates & Samuel A. Ward song America the Beautiful.

O beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain

For purple mountain majesties about the fruited plain!

America!  America!  God shed His grace on thee

And crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea.

Variety: our country has been labeled the “melting pot of the world” because of the hundreds of nationalities who choose to make this their home.   They come from every tribe and tongue in pursuit of freedom in the land of opportunity.    Their skin colors resemble porcelain, mahogany, ebony and goldenrod--the masses woven together like a quilt of humanity.  This patriotic folk song by Don Raye and Al Jacobs, (verse two) becomes their mantra:

This is my country, land of my choice;

This is my country, hear my proud voice.

Vocations: one of our unalienable rights is the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness.  Most citizens exercise this right and pursue vocations with great ingenuity, hoping to realize the “American dream”.

Voice: another of our privileges in this great country is the right to vote and voice our opinions.  We may protest, agree or agree to disagree in this process.  Samuel F. Smith & Henry Carey wrote this in verses three and four of America:

Let music swell the breeze, and ring from all the trees

Sweet freedom’s song;

Let moral tongues awake; let all that breathe partake;

Let rocks their silence break, the sound prolong.

Veterans: as free citizens of this great country, we are forever indebted to those courageous men and women who have fought and still fight to defend and protect us from harm.   The Star-Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key gives insight to this in verse two:

O thus be it ever, when free men shall stand between their loved homes and the war’s desolation!

Blest with vict’ry and peace, may the heav’n rescued land praise the Pow’r that hath made and preserved us a nation!

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just; and this be our motto: “In God is our trust!”

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave! 

Vacancy: our WELCOME mat remains-- open to all who choose to live in this great country.  A portion of Emma Lazarus’ famous sonnet The New Colossus states our philosophy well:

“Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

On this July 4^th holiday, folks will march in parades and enjoy picnics and fireworks.  As citizens we will celebrate our freedom and remember why we love our country. 

Vow: the ending of This is My Country states my sentiments about this great nation.

 

 

 

I pledge thee my allegiance, America, the bold

For this is my country to have and to hold.

 

 

Under the Influence

How many of you have been “under the influence”?  I have, but it had nothing to do with alcohol levels in my bloodstream.  Recently I have been under the influence of three amazing women and I’d like to highlight their stories.  First is Coach Cate Dill from Sudbury, Massachusetts.

I met Coach Cate on a windy spring day when she stopped in our village for a lunch break at Taste of Country deli on Main Street.  She traveled via train from Boston, Massachusetts  to California and began her bicycle trek from Santa Barbara in February. Cate spoke to thousands of students in schools along the way to raise awareness about fitness.  That’s pretty impressive, especially to a non-athlete like me. 

Cate is a motivator, author and physical education teacher (on leave of absence).  Her mission: Making America fit—one person at a time.  I was most interested in her stories about people she met along the way: what surprised her most?  Cate found most people are generous and kind; many offered directions and some opened their homes for lodging and meals or let her catch up on laundry duties.

“Have you noticed a difference in mindsets as you talk to folks in different states?” I wondered.  “Oh, yes.  Definitely.  And the women in the Midwest want to know if I’m ‘packing’ (a weapon),” she chuckled.  

I asked, “What is the biggest challenge for students?”  “It’s the breakdown of the family,” she responded.  The book she was reading spoke of “kinship” throughout the story.  We discussed the lack of kinship in our current society.  She, too, grew up in a small town where kinship was key—you couldn’t get away with much as a kid because someone would squeal and tell your folks! 

I am thankful for dedicated teachers like Cate and the multitudes “under the influence” of Coach Cate.  She is writing a book to describe this spiritual journey across America; I look forward to reading her account.  

Now—meet the extraordinary Lucy Lutz.  One amazing story after another was told at her memorial service last week.  She was a poet, singer/songwriter and minister for many years.  Her relatives and friends talked of her wealthy investments.   She didn’t just spend time with folks—she invested in them, one at a time.  In her eighties she would go to McDonald’s and hang out…and wait to speak a kind word to somebody or pray for someone going through a rough time.  No retirement for Lucy!  As long as she had breath in her ninety plus years, she shared joy with others.

An Amish family sang some of her favorite hymns in German and English.  Her children and spouses sang; her grandchildren sang—sweet melodies and beautiful harmony.  They sang her favorite composition: Faith, Hope and Charity.  What a treat!

The last one who spoke made an amazing statement: Do you realize that in this chapel tonight, not one of us is a blood relative of Lucy’s?  I was stunned.  Lucy had no biological children; only three adopted daughters.  Her spiritual children number in the hundreds if not more—all “under the influence” of this gracious woman.

My friend, Gail Lyall, is a woman who has nurtured countless children.  She is director of The Children’s Connection in Knox County and does a phenomenal job.  Last month she asked me to talk to students about Grief/Loss in the after-school programs she oversees.

These kids adore her and look forward to her visits.  Gail takes an interest in each child and boosts his/her confidence.  They giggle and proudly show her artwork and writings. 

Non-Profit organizations are challenged during economic downturns but Gail and her team  find creative ways to improve the program and to make sure these students get the best possible attention.  She is impacting our children one at a time and giving them hope for the future.  I’m so pleased that these precious youth are “under the influence” of Gail!

I salute Coach Cate, Lucy Lutz and Gail Lyall!  Hundreds are pleased to have been “under the influence” of your lives. 

Happy Mother’s Day!

 

For complete information go to these websites.

To read Cate’s story go to http://www.letsgetmovingamerica.com

To learn more about The Children’s Connection go to http://childrensconnection.org

Taste of Country Deli information is availabe at http://www.tasteofcountrydeli.com

Public Demonstrations

We see the handwritten signs, raging tempers and unrestrained complaint on the nightly news around the world—public demonstrations of every kind--mostly negative outbursts.  Many protest injustices of society.  Some wave flags; others burn them.   Passionate beliefs are made public—no more secret alliances.

In view of the Pacific Ocean in Lima, Peru is Parque del Amor.  Amidst this breath-taking vista is an enormous statue of two lovers.  You cannot miss it.  Some passersby blush at the sight; some smile that knowing smile.  It’s a declaration of the physical unabashed affection of lovers. 

In high school we used a three letter abbreviation—PDA--Public Demonstration of Affection.  Fair warnings sounded, “PDA in the hall!” to alert young lovers of one’s presence.  Those were awkward moments…passion of a different kind.

Public demonstrations do not always get intended results but the possibility of effecting change is compelling.  Centuries ago one man was compelled to change the hearts of mankind by love; our world has never been the same.

His truth-speaking life addressed injustices of society.  He loved when others hated.  He healed the broken hearted; he was an advocate for the poor, the widows and the fatherless.  He multiplied food and fed the hungry.  He forgave the prostitutes and touched the untouchables.   He confounded the religious bigots and shared meals with tax collectors.

He demonstrated power over the raging sea and cooked fish for his disciples.  He turned water into wine at a wedding feast.  He healed blind eyes and raised the dead.  He washed the feet of His disciples and accepted a woman’s tears to wash His own.  He wept.   He incited controversy and mankind plotted to kill Him. 

This relentless love culminated at His crucifixion on the cross at the Place of a Skull on the outskirts of Jerusalem.  This public demonstration of the furious love from the heart of God intersected with the heart of man at the cross. 

He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person's failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him.   John 3:17,18  (Message Bible)

He nailed those opposing Him according to Colossians 2:15.   In this way, He disarmed the spiritual rulers and authorities.  He shamed them publicly by His victory over them on the cross.

The atmosphere was charged with supernatural presence.  Onlookers were stunned as tombs emptied and the dead came to life.  The veil of the temple was torn in two and the sun was eclipsed for a few hours.  This was no ordinary day!  They buried Him and believed that would be the end of His story.  They were wrong.

His name is JESUS and He took Public Demonstration of Affection to the extreme for you and me!  Based on biblical accounts, the story doesn’t end there.  Godfrey Birtill’s lyrics explain it well in Very God.

A covenant keeping, death defeating,

Life redeeming, sinner receiving, God!  Very God!

The only Advocate, so compassionate,

Love that’s measureless,

Life that’s limitless, God!  Very God!

He's unchangeable, inexhaustible, depths unsearchable,

Gift unspeakable, God!

He’s unchangeable, inexhaustible, God!

The Father’s radiance, learned obedience,

Always excellent, my magnificent God!  Very God!

The highest authority, earth or heavenly,

Greatness, humility, King of glory, God!  Very God!

Jesus crucified, Jesus is alive, Jesus reigning high,

Jesus, Light of Light, God!

        Very God of Very God who was and is

and is to come!

This outrageous display of boundless love provokes a response of acceptance or rejection.  What will be your response?

 

Strike up the Band!

Children are refreshing to me.  I enjoy their enthusiasm for life and their zest for learning.  Once in awhile I get to be in on one of their “aha” moments.  That’s icing on the cake in my books. 

My granddaughter, Montana, started playing clarinet in the fifth grade band a couple of years ago.  She was excited to learn to read music and make some not-so-squeaky sounds as she played.  I picked her up from school one spring afternoon and asked, “How was your day?”  “Good…” she responded.  I prodded a little more.

“You had band today, right?  Did you learn any new notes?”  “It was okay.”  Long pause…

“Oh, Grammer.  I almost forgot.  Today in band—we all hit our note at the same time and it was the most a-MAZ-ing sound!”  I thought to myself: She gets it!  She really gets it.  She sees the whole picture. 

I could not resist this teachable moment so I explained that Creator God made each of us to do specific things.  When each of us does what he or she is designed to do, a beautiful rhythm and melody is played in our lives every day. 

I was anxious to tell her band instructor what she discovered in her class.  She commented, “That’s great.  Some students never grasp that concept!”   

A few weeks ago she and her sister Mycah stayed overnight with me.   She looked for some simple music at my piano and asked, “Now, are these notes the same as what I play on the sax?”  “Yes, they are,” I said.  Her eyes lit up and she threw her hand in the air.   “YES!  Then I can play this!”  This new "strike up the band" revelation enlarged her understanding of music.

Montana then proceeded to teach Mycah what she just learned.  It didn't go well; impatience and different maturity levels caused some discord.

Her sight-reading skills have increased and she switched instruments.  Now she plays alto saxophone in the seventh grade band and in a jazz ensemble with seventh and eighth students.  Recently I attended their Winter Concert and heard these budding musicians give a remarkable performance.

I was seated near the stage and the feet of the students were almost at eye-level.  I noticed dozens of feet tapping out the rhythms; some used their left foot while others preferred their right foot.  Synchronized foot-tapping seventh and eighth grade students added visual interest to their performance.

We all hit our note at the same time…

It sometimes takes a miracle even for grown-ups to have such unity.   Whether we play in a band, work together as a team, flow together as a family, come together as a community or unite among nations--harmony is the most a-MAZ-ing sound! 

It reminds me of the popular '70s song with the line: I'd like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony...

King David of the Old Testament had similar thoughts: How wonderful and pleasant it is when brothers live together in harmony. 

Psalm 133:1

 

Down by the Riverside

 

The whole world seems to be in chaos of some sort.  Political upheavals dominate the news as nation rises against nation.  Earthquakes, storms and floods of epic proportions have gripped countries and provoked fear in many people.  How does one find hope in the midst of the storms and challenges of life?  The best-selling book of all times has the answer for such dilemmas--down by the riverside!

Jeremiah 17:8 (The Message)

 ^7-8"But blessed is the man who trusts me, God,
   the woman who sticks with God.
They're like trees replanted in Eden,
   putting down roots near the rivers—
Never a worry through the hottest of summers,
   never dropping a leaf,
Serene and calm through droughts,
   bearing fresh fruit every season.

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 Additional encouragement is found in Isaiah 33:6

And He will be the stability of your times; a wealth of salvation, wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the Lord is his treasure.

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Sixteen Ounces of Life-Giving Blood

My blood identifies my uniqueness…reveals hidden things I might not know about deficiencies and lets physicians know what is needed to attain optimal health.  I am amazed that sixteen ounces of life-giving blood transfused from one human to another can perpetuate the sanctity of life.  It’s a miracle!

Why is it so easy to dismiss everyday miracles?  Perhaps because I have become numb to their existence. Simple things like seeing the sunrise, tasting homemade bread, hearing a child laugh, smelling the earth after a spring rain or feeling the bite of a mosquito sucking my blood are all miracles.  These are ordinary happenings I cannot replicate but are mine to experience.

My friend Gail told me that Debbie, her best friend since kindergarten, needed four points of blood in reserve before she has liver surgery.  “I need to find four donors that I know and trust whose blood type is compatible,” Gail said. 

It had been forty years since I gave my one and only pint.  “I’ll give a pint,” I offered.  “I’m O positive so that shouldn’t be a problem.”  “Oh my gosh!  You’re a universal donor.  That’s great.  You would really do that?” she asked.  “I would be happy to do that to help Debbie,” I said.  My friend Marilyn also volunteered at the midnight hour.

Upon arrival at the Red Cross Center I quickly realized the process had changed dramatically.   The screening began with required reading—a lot of reading.   There was a long list of detailed questions about travel outside the USA, medications and sexual behaviors.  My iodine levels were checked.  Monika remarked, “Your level is a-MAZ-ing!”  Is all of this necessary?  Yes, it is necessary to prevent contaminated blood donations.

Marilyn is a veteran blood donor so she wasn’t put off by all the red tape required.  The nurse began taking her blood a few minutes before me.  My blood-thirsty nurse prepped my arm and declared “You were born to give blood!”  Yea, that’s probably what you tell all the patients.

“Just a little sting. I’ll try not to hurt you,” she assured me as she inserted the needle.  My blood offering began to flow into the container quickly.  Marilyn noticed and declared, “You better not beat me!”  I did…4:57 was my time.  Not too shabby.  No dizziness.  No weakness.  The nurse informed me, “You can give again on March 7^th.  Will you come back?”  I’ll think about it.

I bragged on Facebook about my little episode and discovered I have some “bloody” friends.  One man has given 10 gallons; another has donated 65 gallons.  That is phenomenal generosity!   Another chance for a healthy life exists for someone just because a compassionate human being offered to partake in this transfer of health. 

I don’t want to lose childlike wonder in the ordinary yet sacred happenings of everyday life.  May I never forget that sixteen ounces of precious life-giving blood is sacred.   I believe in the sanctity of life more than ever!

The Write Stuff

Fifty years from now...would someone delight in reading what you've written in a note, an email, on Facebook or a text message?  I can only imagine what avenues of communication will be available even a decade from now.  But will our words offer wisdom?  Counsel?  Humor?  Comfort?  Disgust?

I have one precious Christmas gift from my childhood--an autograph book.  It's a miracle I have it since our family moved out of the country and back again.  My mother is not sentimental and so none of us have much from our childhood.

Autograph books were popular for young girls in 1959.  I talked with a friend today and she has two from that era.  Mine contains an amazing compilation of entries from people living in Ohio, Kentucky and Grand Cayman Island.  I brought this leather book with me to the states when we were on furlough in 1960.  Several pastors, missionaries, teachers, friends and family wrote popular rhymes of the day; the contents range from silly to sublime.

There are multiple entries of the most popular rhyme of the day: I love you little, I love you big, I love you like a little pig.  My sister, Becky, wrote one in cursive and one in printing. The grown-ups wrote more profound verses.  The beautiful handwriting of some entries is a treasure, especially those of family members.

We lived opposite Sea View Hotel in Grand Cayman and we met interesting people from the USA.  Dr. Garry Myers, founder of Highlights for Children, vacationed there and we got to play with his children.  His daughter Patsy made a cute entry.  A few months after that her parents were killed in an airplane crash over New York City.

 
My Grandpa Burson wrote: Dare to be right, dare to be true, success will be yours whatever you do.

My father's advice:

There will be a lot of foolishness, there will be a lot of fun

There will be some seriousness, there will be some goodly puns

But the thing you'll value most of all in this little book of rhymes

Is the thought of those you've loved with whom you've had good times.

Mom wrote: When this life is over and on earth no more you trod; may your name in gold be written on the autograph of God.

Two friends wrote: I wish you much, I wish you plenty, I wish you a husband before you're twenty.  Their wish came true because I married at age eighteen.

My brother's entries would embarrass him; hormones rage at age 16.

Teachers from Cayman High School quoted inspiring verses by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and Shakespeare.

"Aunt" Olga Adams inscribed a prayer for me: Dear Father, help me to choose my friends wisely so that I may be with others who love you as I do, and help me to be a good friend, too.  Amen.  She added this: Ecclesiastes 12:1  Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.

"Uncle" Harvey wrote: It was real good to be in Cayman with you and your family again; hope to see you again sometime--when the boat comes.  May God bless you, and we look forward to the day that you become a Christian too.

I am certain that those who autographed my little book never dreamed I would blog about their offerings fifty years later.  Many of these dear ones are deceased yet their words remain.  What we speak and write has an effect, sometimes decades later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A loving note from spiritual grandparents--Grandpa & Grandma Taylor...

 

 

What kinds of "write stuff" will remain fifty years from now?  How will it be kept?  I pray that folks will still hand-write notes that encourage and inspire others--the write stuff.

Do you own an autograph book or treasure some special notes?  Take some time to read them again and savor the investment someone made in your life.

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Click on each photo to enlarge and read more entries.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Generous Like God

I want to be generous like God.  I wrote it on an index card as my declaration.  In the car I spoke it aloud to my mother as we talked about hard times and having to cut out some things during the holidays.  I said, “I don’t want to have a begrudging attitude about giving.  I want to be generous with whatever I have…like God.”   

Twenty minutes later I arrived home and walked into my kitchen and gasped.  A significant amount of my beautifully prepared goodies were missing.  WHAT?  Where’s Ben?  Surely he didn’t eat them all.

He walked into the room and heard generous amounts of shouting.  I was furious.  “What did you do with my goodies?  I made those specifically to take with me this evening to give to friends.  I set aside things for you to take to your pastors.  Why didn’t you tell me you needed more to give away?  I don’t have time to make any more before tonight.  How could you…“

He explained, “I took some to the neighbors and to some people at the gas station…  I’ll go to the neighbors and bring some back.  They’re not home yet.”

“No, you won’t do that, but where did you leave them?  How will they know who they’re from?”  I shouted.  Then I noticed the black marker.  Oh, dear Jesus, help me!

 Rachel, you said you wanted to be generous like Me.  You said that less than thirty minutes ago.  So…You were listening, eh?  That still small voice boomed in my head.  Okay, fine.  So I’m not feeling that generous.  I’d at least like a say in the matter. 

Ben retreated to his room to escape any further generosity on my part.  Who could blame him?  I calmed down and decided to ask his forgiveness.  He beat me to it.  He came out and apologized for not asking first.  I told him that I had just said I wanted to be generous and I reacted badly.  He was the generous one with a big heart.  We both laughed and realized we have some growing to do.

I haven’t changed my mind—I want to have a generous heart like God.  When I consider His gift list, I am speechless.  He is an extravagant giver who lavishes love on all who will receive His gift of love.

Imagine God’s gift list: children, widows, orphans, lonely and forgotten ones, outcasts and the unlovely, mentally and physically handicapped ones, mentally ill and chronically ill souls; homosexuals, idolaters, fornicators, adulterers, murderers, liars, gluttons, abusers and the abused; thieves and ragamuffins of every sort.

His intense love includes people of all beliefs or with no faith—Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Humanists, Atheists and Agnostics and everyone in between.

He refuses no one.  His generous heart does not give selectively and His motives are pure.  He accepts the risk of rejection but gives the best He has to offer. 

“God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways so that you’re ready for anything and everything, more than just ready to do what needs to be done.  As one psalmist puts it,

He throws caution to the winds, giving to the needy in reckless abandon.  His right-living, right-giving ways never run out, never wear out. 

This most generous God who gives seed to the farmer that becomes bread for your meals is more than extravagant with you.  He gives you something you can then give away, which grows into full-formed lives, robust in God, wealthy in every way, so that you can be generous in every way, producing with us great praise to God.”  (2 Corinthians 9:8-11 Message Bible)

His most precious gift, Jesus, came wrapped in swaddling clothes—not an extravagant visual presentation.  He gets high marks for the announcement though: a heavenly host appeared to announce His arrival.  That’s pretty hard to upstage!

May our hearts become generous in every way as we embrace the gift He has lavished on us in the person of Jesus.

Merry Christmas!

 

Ninety Lust-Filled Minutes in the City

I knew better but what’s a lonely widow to do?  I was within a few miles of a major city and I decided I had time for a quickie.  I mused: It’s the city—who will recognize me?   Maybe I’ll go exotic this time.  Not much time—not much money...

 I entered the World Market to check out the offerings: eye candy to satisfy every taste.  Seduction began slowly but escalated quickly, sending my lust-o-meter off the charts.  I breathed deeply and asked myself: Can I live without this?  What do I really want?  I hate feeling vulnerable (especially in a public area), so I comforted myself by purchasing three bags of English candy. 

I went to the car and nibbled on cold French fries while I took some time to think.  Maybe… Yes, I’m going to try a different setting.  Just one more try.  Same thing happened.  Sensory overload.  Creativity, imagination and marketing genius was magnificent in that place too!  I made a careful choice and decided to flee my not-so-youthful lusts, disgusted that I gave in to the marketing ploys of the world. 

There are three guaranteed marketing strategies that exist and these began in the Garden of Eden.  The cunning serpent pulled out his best schemes to tempt Adam and Eve and it has worked for thousands of years. 

Strategy 1: appeal to the eyes

Strategy 2: appeal to the flesh/senses

Strategy 3: appeal to pride and ego

Eve saw that the forbidden fruit was beautiful (eyes). She recognized that it was good for food (satisfied the flesh).  To become as wise as God appealed to her pride.  The first two humans were hooked and snookered by the cunning ways of the serpent.   Not much has changed. 

I can buy “age-defying” makeup—I still age—but I can look good in the process.   The slogans assault our intelligence but we succumb.  Advertisements during sportscasts are particularly geared to appeal to our senses and lack of good sense.  Liquor and beautiful women go hand-in-hand.  Sometimes—but folks who abuse alcohol and women and children are not part of the marketing “hook”.

Perfumes, jewelry and clothing ads assure us we will be sexy and desirable and a loving relationship with another "hottie" will result.  The bait is endless!

The source of genius marketing schemes: “For the world offers only a craving for physical pleasure, a craving for everything we see, and pride in our achievements and possessions.  These are not from the Father, but are from this world.”  1 John 2:16 

The appeal to spend more—save more ensnares many.  But it’s on sale!  It’s marked down 60, 75 percent off!    This type of marketing appeals to our selfish nature: I’ll stock up for next year…I could make that…I could sure use that…I want that…I want it NOW!  Some define lust as “I want what I want, when I want it and I want it NOW!  We justify our impulsive spending and a different kind of “hoardom” begins.

Help is available for lustful shoppers.  Here are several tips:

• Stay away from the shopping malls as much as possible.  Online shopping is equally hazardous.
• Reduce your intake of advertising via ad inserts and other media.
• Don’t watch programming targeted to your spending weaknesses.
• Limit your magazine reading or anything that causes you to “crave” more.

The ultimate solution is found in 1 Corinthians 10:13: But remember that the temptations that come into your life are no different from what others experience.  And God is faithful.  He will keep the temptation from becoming so strong that you can’t stand up against it.  When you are tempted, he will show you a way out so that you will not give in to it.”  It’s good to know I’m not alone in this!

Confessional: I don’t need everything I see that appeals to my eyes, temporarily satisfies my flesh or boosts my ego.  There is a plan of escape!

 

What Gift Would Make You Squeal in Delight?

What gift would make you squeal in delight?  When someone opens your gift do they squeal and say, “I always wanted this…”  How about: “You remembered!”  Maybe someone said, “Oh…you shouldn’t have!”  They meant it—because they really didn’t like it.

At our elementary school they sponsor a Secret Santa day when kids can shop for simple gifts for their family.  Most items range in price from fifty-cents to a dollar and a grown-up wraps the gifts.  A few years ago, Mycah was so excited when I dropped her off at school on THE day because she already had ideas for gifts, especially one for her sister.

I picked them up after school and she was smiling ear-to-ear.  She got into the van and began telling Montana, “You’re going to LOVE what I got for you.  I mean it.  You’re gonna scream when you see it!”  She could wait no longer and handed Montana her carefully chosen gift. 

Montana ripped open the gift and screamed, “Mycah, I LOVE you!  Thank you!”  You gotta love childlike faith and joy!  She gave me a necklace that said:  I love Grandma!

I wore it proudly—until it was too badly tarnished; but it has a special place in my heart and my jewelry box.

Mycah discovered the joy of giving as she chose what she knew her big sister would love.  That’s part of the secret of giving the perfect gift—listening and observing what another person likes or dislikes.

Something seems to be missing these days in gift exchanges.  Maybe because it’s just that—an exchange—a business transaction.  I’ll give you a gift card for your favorite place and you give me one for mine.  Boring!  I’ve never turned down a gift card because they are practical and useful, but what kind of gift makes you “ooh and ahh”? 

I can only speak for myself, but the gifts that bring me delight are ones that required some thought by the giver.  The giver listened when I mentioned a certain interest or something I admired. 

 

My sister Lisa had a huge bean pot I admired on several occasions.  One Christmas she had drawn my name and was eager to watch me open her gift.  She gave me the bean pot—the really big bean pot that is unusual. Unbelievable!

 

 

 

 

My sister Deborah gave me the very first basket she made—that’s a sacrificial gift that touches my heart.  These were perfect gifts that required some listening and sacrifice.

 

Years ago I wanted to give a little gift to a widow who was struggling with life.  She had lost motivation and interest in most everything.  I didn’t have money to purchase anything so I went to my pantry and asked the Lord for an idea.  He nudged me to give her the jar of gourmet mustard.  What?  Suppose she doesn’t like mustard?  There is a certain vulnerability that exists in giving gifts.  I attached a simple note: Yes, you can still cut the mustard!

She beamed when she opened it and said, “I LOVE mustard.  Thanks for the note, I really needed to hear that.” 

I learned a humbling lesson many years ago when my giving backfired.  We attended a large church for several years before Joe was asked to become an Associate Pastor.  A few weeks into this new position, the leaders announced that pantry items would be collected for a needy family.  I searched my pantry for some spare items to donate.

I happily unloaded some items that were not the best quality and thought to myself: This family will be grateful just to have some food!  Imagine my surprise when I discovered we were the “needy family” and this was given in appreciation for our ministry to the church!  Now I give the best that I can afford because you certainly do reap what you sow.

Give some thought to your gift-giving and just maybe you’ll hear someone squeal in delight, “Oh, I LOVE you!  Thank you…it’s perfect!”

 

 

 

But I Don't Wanna Rejoice!

You want me to rejoice?   But I don’t wanna rejoice…I wanna weep!  Romans 12:15 states: Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.  It’s a “grumpy” verse and I don’t always comply.  Sometimes envy, jealousy or indifference rear their “bad selves” and I want to ignore our Creator’s plea to fellowship and share in all things, in all seasons.

When one’s heart is aching, counting blessings helps but it doesn’t take away the pain.  When one is rejoicing, it’s sometimes difficult to share the joy when aware of others who are suffering hardships.  So what’s a person to do?  It’s Thanksgiving Day in America—a time to feast with friends and family and count blessings.  Some are rejoicing and some are weeping.   Is it possible to do both?

A couple of days ago I was anxious to leave the frenzied holiday shopping atmosphere my mom, my son and I had just experienced.  I felt a bit weepy when I noticed the Salvation Army bell ringer stationed at the exit door.  Drats, I already put away my money and I’m not digging for it.  I avoided eye contact with him and noticed an elderly woman I hadn’t seen in many years sitting on a bench.  I approached her and asked, “Are you Mary?”  She didn’t recognize me—no wonder--it had been fourteen years since I visited in her home after her husband’s death.

She is well-educated and delightful; I mentioned several things I recalled from that visit.  Her sad face turned to delight.  Mary said, “I can’t believe you remember all of this after 14 years.  This is such a blessing to me today!”  It was a huge blessing to me also.  Some people leave a powerful impression on our lives and she is one of those dear ones.

I started to move on and the middle-aged bell ringer interrupted, “I’m sorry, but I’ve been listening to this conversation.  I heard you tell her that you are a widow now too.  My wife died a year ago in April.  It’s really hard, isn’t it?”  I agreed.  I was amazed that he chose to man the donation bucket but he said he wants to go on with life…to find hope again.  This brief encounter with these precious ones helped me think outside my world.   

Holidays are difficult times for many reasons and I feel added pressure by the overlapping of seasons (promoted by greed, in my opinion).  I want to shout, “Could we please enjoy one season at a time?”  Neither will happen! 

I think about the cycles of weeping and rejoicing and I consider the following:

Some have an empty place at the table; some have added another place setting to welcome children and new in-laws and friends.

Some have plenty to eat and throw excesses away; some have empty plates.

Some are employed; some are not and fear they will lose their homes etc.

Some families are filled with laughter and fun; some folks sit alone and forgotten.

Some live afraid; some take courage and press on anyway.

Some are physically incarcerated; some are prisoners in their own minds.

Some are far from home protecting our liberties; some stray and remain estranged.

Some know this may be their last holiday with loved ones and they live life fully; some live as though they will never die and neglect the importance of living and loving fully.

Life is a series of seasons and emotional “stretchmarks” where each of us gets our turn in the rejoicing and weeping cycle.   I pray that you will have the grace to enjoy your blessings but be able to weep with those who are going through unbearable trials.  

The quickest route to being thankful is to leave one’s “navel” base and engage in something besides self.  It’s time to give thanks!

 “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

(I Thessalonians 5:18)

What Do You Want On Your Tombstone?

 

What do you want on your tombstone?  That question is part of the advertising slogan for Tombstone Pizza.  It’s a legitimate question.

My interest in obituaries, eulogies and epitaphs began when I worked with our local hospice.  These brief sentences and paragraphs contain interesting information (sometimes falsehoods) and at the very least, some exaggeration, which summarizes one’s life on earth. 

   
An epitaph is defined as a memorial inscription on a monument.  These don’t seem to be commonplace anymore—replaced with laser photos of the deceased or the family farm or business and interests of the loved one.  Here are a few epitaphs on tombstones of some famous folks:

 

George Washington-- Looking into the portals of eternity teaches that the brotherhood of man is inspired by God's word; then all prejudice of race vanishes away.

 

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier--Here Rests in Honored Glory an American Soldier Known but to God

 Carrie Amelia Nation--She hath done what she could.

 Henry Ward Beecher: He Thinketh No Evil

 Emily Dickinson—Called  Back

 Anne and Charles Lindbergh--...If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea… (Taken from Psalm 139)

 Dean Martin-- Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime

 Ralph Waldo Emerson-- The passive master lent his hand, to the vast Soul which o'er him planned.

I drove through a couple local cemeteries to look at tombstones and found only one significant epitaph: Katherine B.—Mother, Jeweler, Artist 

 On a bereavement visit with an Appalachian woman she told me she had finally bought Harry’s head rock.  It took me a minute to figure out that she meant his headstone.  Headstones and tombstones bear interesting names and facts; sizes and style vary as much as the ones who died and the cultural background of families.

 I have thought about folks in the bible and wondered what might have been written on their tombstones.  I came up with the following based on what was spoken of them in scripture.

Noah—He did all that God commanded him. (Genesis 6:22)

 Joseph—God meant everything in my life for good. (Genesis 50:20)

 Moses—Friend of God (Exodus 33:11)

Jezebel--They went out to bury her, but there was nothing left of her but skull, feet, and hands. (2Kings 9:36)

Esther—She found favor in the sight of the King. (Esther 5:2)

 Job—The Lord blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning. (Job 42:12)

Daniel—Out of them all, not one was like Daniel. (Daniel 1:19)

John the Baptist—Among those born of women, there has not arisen one greater. (John 11:11)

Judas—Betrayer (Mark 14:10)

Dorcas—She abounded with deeds of kindness and charity.  (Acts 9:36)

Multiple options are available for Jesus’ tomb.  Here are a few examples:

 Jesus--My Kingdom is not of this world. (John 18:36)

 Jesus--Blessed are they who did not see, and yet believed.  (John 20:29b)

 Jesus--Father forgive them, for they know not what they’re doing.  (Luke 23:34)

 Jesus--If you love Me, keep My commandments.  (John 14:15)

 Jesus--I go to prepare a place for you.  (John 14:2)

 My all-time favorite epitaph for Jesus—I’LL BE BACK!  (John 14:3)

 

What simple sentence sums up your life?  What do you want on your tombstone?  You might want to give it some thought before you R.I.P.

 

How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow?  Your life is like the morning fog--it's here a little while, then it's gone.  James 4:14 (NLT)

 

Don't Give Up The Fight!

Hearing your commander shout, “Don’t give up the fight!” can set a soldier on edge when worn down with mental and physical fatigue.  Our military personnel have a clear goal that spurs them on: Freedom.  Do whatever it takes to protect our freedom as a country.    

On a recent trip to Florida I was impressed with memorials to our veterans I saw in Alabama and Milton, Florida.  These walls of tribute to our military reminded me of something that happened in 1988 when my GI Joe, my father and I traveled to Washington D.C. for a prayer rally on the mall.

Almost 500,000 believers gathered from many tribes and nations to pray for freedom to endure in America.  Our purpose and the lines of spiritual warfare rang out: Don’t give up the fight!

After a few hours we left the crowd to see some of the historic landmarks nearby.  I was very interested in visiting the Vietnam Memorial; Joe was hesitant to face the raw emotion it might stir in him.

As we approached the statue of three young GIs ready for battle, I recalled fear…the pain of separation and loneliness I endured as a nineteen-year-old newlywed thousands of miles from my sweetheart.  I remembered the pride I felt in seeing him in his military uniform…sending and receiving mushy love letters…and the joyous day of his return.

While I struggled with these emotions, a young boy faced the statue.  He was admiring the weapons to the extent that he reached out and stroked the M-16 rifle.  Visions of Rambo conquering all danced in his eyes, unaware of the risks and cost of battle.  My GI Joe came near.  He was familiar with the scars of war—loss of innocence, the stench of death and fearful sounds forever etched in his mind.

A woman passed by repeating her mantra, “What a waste. Never again.  It’s not worth it!”  Her sentiments irked me.  Soon I felt stinging tears and silently thanked God we had come through that battle.  Daddy looked on in silence.

Slowly we moved to the wall—a massive black granite wall engraved with the names of 58,220 men and women who died serving in Vietnam.  Some visitors made pencil rubbings of loved ones names; some stroked familiar names as though they were touching that loved one in person.  Others left notes, photographs, ID tags, crosses and flowers.  Many sobbed.  It was an emotional collage of healing in every stage.  We stood in awe…and walked away in silence.

As we rejoined the prayer rally, I realized this scene had spiritual implications as well. 

The young boy represented the new Christian ready for battle.  He knew little of the risks ahead, yet he was willing and somewhat zealous to fight.  My GI Joe gave credence to those weary and scarred from the battles of life, yet hopeful of better days.

My father, a spiritual veteran, knew the cost of being a Christian soldier—weariness, sorrows, joys and victories encountered in over 50 years of ministry as pastor and missionary.  Struggles and risks were his companions.  If you asked him, “Is it worth it?” he would have replied: YES!  Our victory comes through the cross of Jesus.

The woman (naysayer) represented our enemy, Satan.  He is eager to distract our efforts, continually telling us the cost is too high.  The granite wall represented the Lamb’s Book of Life inscribed with the names of those faithful saints who have died and are cheering us on.

When you are tempted to quit because the battle is too fierce—look to the Cross of Jesus, our symbol of freedom.  Don’t give up the fight!

Thank the military veterans you know but don’t forget the spiritual veterans either.  They have all paid the price so that we might enjoy our freedom.

Photos taken in northern Alabama: granite memorial with etching of three GIs like the statue in Washington D.C.

The Vietnam Memorial with names of soldiers from Alabama who died serving in Vietnam.

   

 

Cross photo: Church of the Holy Spirit in Gambier, Ohio.  (Jonathan Blevins photo)
                                                                          

High Fives

To celebrate victories and simple accomplishments we often say, "High fives!" and hands are extended in the air and slapped together.

Ordinary people do extraordinary things every day.  Here are a few basic examples of ordinary tasks that can be done with amazing results deserving of "high fives".

• Skillfully play a musical instrument to soothe spirits, bring joy or perhaps evoke change in the world.
• Write or paint to inspire, to make someone laugh, weep or gain new perspective.
• Plant gardens or raise animals to feed the hungry.
• Grow beautiful trees, plants and flowers to glorify our Creator.
• Teach a skill and impart knowledge to another.
• Bind up wounds and offer healing.
• Defend the helpless and provide protection and freedom.
• Sew garments to clothe the needy.
• Extend hands in greeting and offer fellowship.
• Anoint the sick with oil to pray for healing and speak a blessing.

There are many examples in scripture of those who used their hands in simple obedience with extraordinary outcomes.  Here are a few to consider:

• Abraham tied his son Isaac on the altar and offered him as a sacrifice to God.
• Noah built an ark with his hands to prepare for a flood when it had not yet rained on the earth.
• David selected five smooth stones, put one in his sling and slew the giant Goliath.
• Moses stretched forth his staff and the Red Sea parted so the Israelites could cross on dry land.
• Miriam played the tambourine and led the maidens in victorious dance.
• Skilled women embroidered curtains for the tabernacle.
• Dorcas hand-sewed garments for the saints.
• The Good Samaritan bound up the wounds of a stranger and provided for his care.

Jesus demonstrated some powerful things with His hands as well.

• He honed his skills as a carpenter while working with his father Joseph.
• Jesus combined clay of the earth with his own spittle then applied it to a blind man's eyes so sight could be restored.
• He made a scourge of cords and drove the moneychangers out of the temple.
• He touched lepers and the unclean and watched as their bodies became whole again.
• He embraced children and blessed them.
• Jesus blessed five loaves of bread and two fishes to feed at least 5,000 people.
• He washed the soiled feet of his disciples, humbling Himself as a servant.
• His hands were pierced for our iniquities.

Isaiah 49:16a reads: "I have engraved you on the palms of My hands."

That's great news to all the people of the earth--deserving of a minimum of 6,000,000,000 "high fives"!

 

    
          

Top: Sisters--Raena and Angelina, share some joy before the church service began.

Right:Les and Rebecca have many reasons to "high five" and celebrate their seventy-something years of life.

Below: Noah loves his new headgear he received for his 5th birthday and shares a "high five" with his dad, Matthew.

 

Joy in the Mourning

I am not one of those morning people who wakes up chatty and cheerful. But I am now a mourning person.  So where's the joy?

The last eighteen months have come and gone with little evidence of dramatic change. There have been bad days—good days—and once in a great while—fantastic days. Joy kind of snuck in there recently.

I can't put my finger on it, exactly, but recently I felt joy again—right in the midst of my grief and mourning. It startled me. Was it an illusion or the real thing?

Our local street fair was in progress—The Tomato Show in Fredericktown. These events should just be called Homecomings because friendships are rekindled as folks walk the street enjoying Elephant Ears, Funnel Cakes, french fries doused in vinegar and more satisfying savory foods. Kids screamed on amusement rides and bingo players scanned their cards in the tent. Carnival chaos at its best.

It was an unplanned afternoon with my three sons and families—only the four youngest grandchildren could come along—all under age four. I realized that this was the first time since my sons were young that we had all done this together. Inexplicable  joy burst inside me like I have not known in several years.  It was strange and wonderful!

Last year I walked through the crowds avoiding eye contact with some. It was the first time without Joe at the big event. Success meant not breaking down in a puddle of tears in the crowd so I limited my time spent there.

 

 

I watched my treasures ride the carousel for the first time—sheer joy! Isaiah shared his ice cream with cousin Isabella. It was pure sweetness to watch! For too long it's been unbearable to watch grandparents with their grandchildren; the pain was too raw, the wound too deep. This time I smiled as I watched aging couples savor the squeals of children at play. Progress...

I entered three photos for judging in the photography contest. My confidence got a boost when I won first place and fifth place ribbons. This winning photo of a weathered porch depicts a life of stretchmarks compared to fresh flowers and life. When wounds begin to heal, a scar forms—evidence of the wound and proof of healing. This captures my life right now.

Can joy and mourning co-exist? I believe they can and do. I saw some folks at the street fair who are staring at death, job losses, deaths of loved ones and selling the family farm. I ache for them. I saw a newlywed couple (both of them lost spouses) happy and joyful again. I felt hope... Just for the record--I am not planning another marriage.

Will I continue to feel pain and sadness? Certainly. I realize I may still wake up in the middle of the night and feel panicked because I am alone. Each new season stirs up that loss, but it is less intense. I breathe easier...

Several years ago my sister Deborah gave me a figurine of a chubby ballerina. It makes me smile just to look at it. I have read this scripture many times...and wondered if its truly a possibility. Though my wound is still tender, a scab has formed and healing is taking place...little by little.  My gracious God has faithfully walked beside me, inviting me to embrace life again.

 

 You did it: you changed my wild lament into whirling dance; you ripped off my black mourning band and decked me with wildflowers.

I'm about to burst with song; I can't keep quiet about you. God, my God, I can't thank you enough.

Psalm 30:11,12 (Message Bible)

 

 

I gotta go practice my pirouette for the “Joy in the Mourning" dance.

 

 

HE IS

 

The names describing Jesus are many and diverse. There is something about His character that appeals to each one of us. Jesus transcends all barriers, all cultures. Jesus is all things to all people.

To the doubter He's I AM.

To the zoologist He's the Lion, the Lamb.

To the astronomer He's the Morning Star.

To the gardener He's the Rose of Sharon, Lily of the Valley, True Vine, Branch.

To the builder He's the Chief Cornerstone, the Carpenter's Son.

To the electrician He's the Light of the World, Father of Lights.

To the fisherman He's the Fisher of Men.

To the farmer He's the Good Shepherd.

To the merchant He's Redeemer.

To the orator He's the Word.

To the genealogist He's the Root of David, Seed of Abraham.

To the psychologist He's Wonderful Counselor.

To the reporter He's Good News.

To the prisoner He's Deliverer.

To the student He's Teacher, Rabbi.

To the navigator, traveler-- He's the Way.

To the intellectual He's the Omniscient One.

To the nurse, doctor--He's the Great Physician.

To the refugee He's a Fortress.

To the early riser He's Dayspring (early dawn).

To the slave He's Master.

To the artist, musician--He's Creator.

To the preacher He's Prophet.

To the athlete He's the Beginning and the End, First and Last, the Alpha and Omega.

To the baker, the hungry--He's the Bread of Life.

To the liar He's the Truth.

To the orphan He's Father, Everlasting Father.

To the lawyer He's Mediator, Advocate, Lawgiver, Messenger of the Covenant, Witness, Righteous Judge.

To the sick He's the Healer.

To the mourner He's the Comforter.

To the geologist He's the Rock of Ages.

To the fearful He's Emmanuel, Omnipresent One.

To the destitute He's Jehovah Jireh, the Provider.

To the poor He's Heir of All Things.

To the weak He's the Mighty God, Omnipotent One.

To the thirsty He's the Living Water.

To the wounded He's the Balm of Gilead.

To the unclean He's the Holy One.

To the church He's High Priest, The Shepherd and Bishop of our souls.

To those dead to sin He's the Resurrection and the Life. ©1994

Rachel Blevins

Faithing Reality

 

Yes, I know...faithing is not a real word and I don't speak with a lisp. I woke up a few days ago with this phrase in my head and I got to thinking...

Disciples of Jesus are sometimes confronted with crisis and the age-old questions surface. What happens when our prayers aren't answered? Or, the reality of it, what happens when our prayers aren't answered the way we wanted them to be answered?

The litany of questions begins. Didn't I have faith? Did I not have enough? What did I do wrong? Is God punishing me for bad things I've done? Am I not good enough? Ad infinitum...

The reality is that we don't always get our way even when we've done things well. We have faith. We exercise that faith. And still the unthinkable happens. But so-and-so said that he/she would be healed. It's easy to torment ourselves with this ping-pong match of the mind.

We embrace faith, but it is necessary to look at reality as well. This tightrope walk is never easy and some fall and never get up again.   Sad, but true.

During my years in hospice work, I encountered several patients who believed strongly in divine healing. One young mother was adamant that she would be healed; so adamant, that she refused to sign legal documents on the house and car she jointly owned with her husband. She chose not to talk to her teenage children about the possibility of her death and she died grimacing and angry.  Her children were bitter for a long time.

My friend Barb walked her journey differently. She “faithed reality”. She longed to return to her home for the last few days and she was granted that desire. Barb said, “I want to go home...but I think I'm going to my other home (heaven).” I asked her to clarify and she continued, “I just want to be in my home. I realize I may die, but I will continue to pray for a miracle.” She prepared her children before she died.

There was such a contrast in the outcome of these two believers. Both had faith and trust in God's ability to heal. One was bitter; one was not. One prepared her family; one did not.

Someone asked me recently, “Do you think that if you're praying for a healing miracle you should still prepare for death?” The simple answer is: yes, we should prepare for death. We prepare for most everything else in life—we have auto insurance in case of accident and injuries. We have healthcare insurance if we have physical needs. We purchase life insurance “just in case” we die! Why do we avoid speaking about death and preparing for it? It's very uncomfortable and depressing!

Faithing reality does not mean there is lack of faith—at least that's my opinion. I have prayed for precious loved ones to be healed and they were not and the questions persisted. Will I continue to pray for those that need a miracle? YES!

Not getting the results I want does not change who God is or what He can do. I don't understand the way things unfold in life but I have found God to be trustworthy.

The questions surfaced again this week for thousands of folks who knew and loved Dr. John W. Watson.  We prayed, we believed and we waited for the miracle. This precious pastor's life impacted thousands around the world and we will miss him terribly.

Now we faith reality of a different sort.. He lives on in eternity and we embrace faith to live in reality without his physical presence and encouragement. It won't be easy but it is possible.

We will have questions and suppositions... We will pull together as a faith family and lend support to one another. This will stretch us further in our faith walk. Dr. John was all about “stretching” ones!

A Country Bumpkin's Taxi Ride

 

I live in rural Ohio where Amish buggies pass by my house every day. I can count the number of times I have taken a taxi on one hand that is missing two fingers. My first taxi ride was in Honolulu, Hawaii and the second was in Lima, Peru.  Both were memorable, but do not compare to the taxi ride in Long Beach, California.

I had been in Southern California helping my sister care for her ill husband and now it was time to return home. I had an early flight and no one was available to take me to Long Beach airport. Ugh! I dreaded the thought of calling Yellow Cab taxi service.

I imagined all sorts of scenarios... What if the driver decided to take me somewhere else? Suppose this person harmed me and disposed of my country-to-the-core body? What if he doesn't speak English? That was a real possibility in this city! I was gripped with fear of the unknown and my wild imagination.

It was dark at 5:30 a.m. A short "beep" outside signaled the taxi's arrival.  I said a tearful goodbye to my sister and brother-in-law and headed for the street, pulling my luggage behind me. My heart began to pound in my chest. A tall, dark and handsome man got out to take my luggage. “Good morning!” he greeted in his thick African accent.

He opened the door for me and I stepped inside.  Wow! It was like entering a peaceful, holy place. Okay, so far so good. He asked, “You're going to Santa Ana, yes?” Oh, dear God. “No, I need to go to Long Beach airport.” “Sorry... I was told you're going to Santa Ana.  I will take you to right place,” he said and sped off.   Please, God, let this be okay. 

I was calmed by the familiar praise and worship music he played. The medley began with I could sing of Your love forever (Sonicflood) followed by Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path (Amy Grant). I teared up. I was so afraid--and for nothing!

I commented, “I like your choice of music. Are you a Christian?” He responded, “Oh, yes ma'am. Are you?” “Yes I am. My husband and I are in ministry in Ohio.”

"Did you come here for vacation?” he asked. “No, I have been here to help care for my ill brother-in-law. He needs a miracle,” I replied. “Then we will pray for a miracle!” he declared as he thrust his hand in the air.

The music continued—Our God is an awesome God...(Rich Mullins) and What a Mighty God We Serve. As we approached the entrance to the airport, My Life is in You Lord(Marty Nystrom) resounded in this Yellow Cab turned sanctuary.  I jotted down the titles so I would never forget this moment.

 

Yes, my life is in You, Lord, I mused.  I felt deeply comforted and loved by my heavenly Father for watching over this country bumpkin in such an unusual way.

 

He unloaded my luggage and I gave him taxi fare plus tip. He thanked me and looked me in the eye as if looking into my soul. I waited...and watched him pull away. I thought to myself I think he just might have been an angel. 

 

My Photo: Signal Hill overlooking Long Beach, California

Senior Citizens Shack Up Too!

 

We picked up our reserved tickets at the Franciscan Center of Lourdes College in Sylvania, Ohio to hear a lecture by Wm. Paul Young, author of the fictional (and controversial) novel, The Shack. Those waiting in line were older than I expected.

The lecture was slated for 1:00 p.m. and many folks are at work, but where were the college students?  At least ninety percent of the theater style auditorium was filled with people over age sixty; the remaining ones were high school students from the Toledo area. I was surprised.  Why are so many senior citizens “shacking” up?

I asked a young man seated in front of us if he was a student there. “No, I just came to check this place out. I moved to this area recently and don't know much about the school,” he offered. So I asked if he liked The Shack. He smiled and said, “You know, there are not too many books I've ever read that I can say changed my life—but this one did.” He revealed that what struck him most was that this novel clearly showed that it's all about relationships—with God and with each other—it's not about laws and rules, but about relationships. He is a wise young man.

Paul Young is an engaging speaker and had us laughing much of the time. The story behind the success of this novel is astounding and, by his own admission, definitely a “God thing”. I kept wondering why it appealed to so many older people. I think I found some answers.

    
  
The majority of those in the audience have carried a lot of baggage—lifetimes of hurts and pains, many of which have been kept secret. Paul Young articulated what pain (the “great sadness”) and forgiveness look and feel like. There is identification with other hurts and wounds...and validation that these wounds are deep and real. The good news of forgiveness and healing comes as refreshment to weary souls.

One of many stories he told involved an elderly Australian man who called him and began to sob. It took six phone calls during a twelve hour period for this man to finally express his gratitude for the message in The Shack. He found solace through reading this "think outside the box" story and shares it with others. Paul joked that his PR guy in Australia is this eighty-five year old unemployed man—and it's working!

I had a flashback to a bereavement visit with an elderly woman after her husband died. She began to reminisce about her early married life.  Eva cried when she told of miscarried twins. She shook her finger at me and sobbed, “What did they do with my babies? I don't know what they did with my babies!” She had never shared this segment of her secret sorrow with anyone. Unbelievable. I had no magical words of comfort so I let her vent until she exposed all that had been stuffed away in her heart for fifty years.

Six people asked questions at the end of the lecture.  One woman commented that her friends told her, "That book is damn heretical!"  She wanted to know how he dealt with all the controversy.  He responded, "I welcome it! 

 

A beautiful young woman stood at the microphone and spoke to Paul, thanking him for the book. What she divulged next caused a communal gasp.  “In 2008, my brother was kidnapped and held for ransom...then he was murdered...” We can't recall her question but noted that her outward persona gave no indication of her personal torment.

 

“Every man has his secret sorrow which the world knows not. And oft times he is thought to be cold when he's really only sad.” ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~

 

I remember a sweet note we received from a grateful family: Thank you all for the wounderful work you do!  Wonderful was misspelled, but it fully explains what ministry is all about--caring for wounded souls.

Paul describes our hurts as unique to us--as unique as our DNA.  The amazing  discovery portrayed in this novel is that there is access to "Papa" and a healing balm found in forgiveness available to everyone. “Wounderful” news!

 

If you are among those who have not read this fictional novel, I challenge you to do so.  According to the author, most of those who protest its contents have never even read the book.  I plan to read my autographed copy a second time.