Serving Two Masters….

Attitude is everything.

The child climbed into the car’s back door, but refused to get in his car seat. Usually this wasn’t a problem, but this particular day he decided he wanted to stand right behind Dad, holding on to the head rest. “Sit down!” Dad raised his voice at this second warning. The look of rebellion on the child’s face told the father that it was not going to happen today. Is there anything that exerts more will power than a 3-year-old who doesn’t want to do something? His chin jutted out, and he stayed standing.

Dad put the car into park, got out, took hold of his son, and with necessary movements put him in the car seat, snapped the buckles and got back into the driver’s seat. As he pulled out of the parking space his son yelled, “I may be sittin’ down on the outside, but I’m still standin’ up on the inside!!”

It seems to meet that I’ve been standing up on the inside a lot lately. Christmas has come and gone (but will be here again soon, for sure), and I morph into Scrooge during that time. I fight the materialism with everything I am, but it does no good against all those sweet faces turned toward me. My attitude needs a major overhaul after the holidays. I probably wrote the same thing last year.

But in the midst of all the bad attitudes, the chaos, the trials (already!), the crises (already, note the plural!), and the hurt feelings, God spoke to my heart. Don’t ever underestimate the power of the Creator Who “spoke” the world into being (John 1). As I turned to my Bible this morning, I began reading and verses I’ve read hundreds of times “lit up.” That’s God, speaking.

These were the verses that were prepared for me to be reading , the next set of verses on a morning “ritual”—not one of those “put your finger in a passage and read it” type thing. But as I read the verses “You cannot serve two masters; for either you will … love the one and hate the other…You cannot serve God and [the world]. Matt. 6:24).” Years of teaching came across my mind, God and the world… God and money… and then suddenly God shone His light directly upon those verses into my heart, and I knew He was telling me these verses can go much deeper than what I have heard all my life, and how much I needed to hear Him alone.

You see, it’s been a struggling week, one of those Stress Level Ten weeks, one where I felt caught in a conflict between an adult child and my husband. Nothing–nothing!–comes between a momma and her child (or should) no matter how old they get. A momma bear and her cub is a great analogy. Another–which I experienced a lot of years ago–is a cow and her newborn calf. I have been torn, taking up the offense of my child, and mad (as only a wife can be) that my husband would have allowed this situation. But then, God spoke to my heart.

He turned the light bulb in my mind onto the passage, and I saw, a Mother cannot serve her adult child and her husband if there is conflict. It doesn’t matter who is right and who is wrong. The truth is, the situation is out of my control and I can’t make them both happy. I can’t change anything, can’t go back and re-do the offense, can’t “fix it.” But if I keep on with my warring attitude, I will end up “hating” one and “serving” the other. But that isn’t God’s best. He made us one in marriage, and to split that unity and go against my husband is wrong, and becomes sin, and He made my child “leave the parent” when they became one with their spouse. Yuk. Yikes. Double yikes.

I also saw that “two masters” could easily be me–with all my desires to control the situation, to control what had happened, to make everything okay again (because I hate confrontation, and disunity)–and my husband, who had done what he thought to be best in a situation where, he felt, there would be no winning. He knew ahead of time it was going to cause friction, and he wisely chose to do what was best for me, rather than for our child. I needed to CHOOSE to love him. Lesson Two.

Two masters, He spoke to my heart, is always a potential in a marriage: if you and your spouse are not dedicated to seeing that you are in agreement with discipline (one of the areas where the most combat is initiated), you are causing your child/children to choose which of you to “love/serve” and which to hate. Lesson Three.

This dredged up a long-ago illustration when we four–dad, mom, son, daughter–got in the car to leave church. Our son turned to me, asking if we could stop by the local ice cream shop and get cones. I said “No.” He got a tragic look on his face and said, “Mom! I didn’t mean to ask you, I meant to ask Dad!” We went. They had learned which questions to ask which parent. To food, I usually said no; Dad said yes. After this we also made (and stuck to) rule #783: if they asked one of us, the answer was set in stone (unless extenuating circumstances dictated otherwise), and they could not ask the other parent. Good rule, even for today.

Be sure you are not serving two masters: yourself and your spouse. Or, your child and your spouse. Or… anyone but God. Even then, you have to be vigilant that you do not present a second master to yourself. God only is the First and Last in our lives, and He only holds the keys to family unity, love and working out stressful problems when we look to Him to watch our backs. He alone is holy, praise His Name.

Has the situation gone away? No, but my attitude is adjusting, and I see both sides. I also have confessed, and am sorry for the “tantrum” I threw when I first found out. God is in control, I have no doubt at all about that, and my repentant heart can now be worked on. It will be okay. This hasn’t come to stay, but has “come–to pass.” I’ll be grateful when it’s passed!

WHAT ARE YOU TEACHING?

Oct25

The child could not have been more than seven or eight: an adorable looking boy, happy and having fun at the football game. He was obviously among family who loved him. I saw him take a big drink of a soda, and something made him laugh. It happens to all of us–young and old! We laugh, and the soda (or crackers, or food) explodes from our mouth with an intensity we can’t control! Which of us can say we’ve never done that? His family instantly laughed hysterically, and, observing the fiasco, I had to smile.

In the flash of a second, however, the man sitting in the next row in front of him–and a little bit lower, as football seats go–got some drink on the back of his head, and down his neck. With the speed of a striking snake he turned, jumped up, grabbed the drink out of the little boy’s hand, and stalked out of the seats, looking for all the world like he wanted to take revenge. It was so very humiliating for the family to be caught in such a situation in public, and so distressing for on-lookers to witness such a spectacle of rage. I wanted to grab the little guy, who instantly rolled himself into a ball and tried to hold big drops of tears back, and hug him until his little spirit was calmed. It couldn’t have been more than a teaspoon or tablesp00n of soda, but you would have thought the man got soaked. And the man had not even waited to see if it had been an accident.

Scripture poured into my mind as I watched: “Who can bear a broken spirit?” (Prov. 18:14), “A [seasoned Christian] is [should be] above reproach, self-controlled” (1 Tim. 3:2), and “The anger of man does NOT achieve the righteousness of God,” (James 1:20). From the interaction when the man returned after throwing out the drink, I realized he was the boy’s grandfather. My heart was literally breaking, for many reasons: the man had not asked what happened, and whether it was an accident, he didn’t give the little boy time to re-act, and he was providing an example of what a hair-trigger temper is all about, and what it means to display it. Worse, the child was the victim of an adult who should have–by the grandfather’s age–learned self-control. Somehow I got the impression that the child saw anger like this more times than he should have.

The man’s wife tried to talk to him; I could tell she was indicating that his attitude had hurt the child terribly, and that he needed to heal that “wounded” spirit. Okay, so I sound like any problem with a child is the child’s fault, and amends should be made immediately. Not so. But let’s face it, we all laugh at “slap-stick” humor–witness I Love Lucy! Had the grandfather laughed and wiped his neck, it would have created a tighter bond and a happy ending.

I watched the older man turn around and could not believe the words out of his mouth, which I could overhear: “YOU didn’t even say ‘I’m SORRY!'” Good grief, who had had time? The trigger was pulled before the child had his mouth closed! I felt sorry for the man’s wife. But even more, I was appalled at the “Blame Game” the man used. What?! He was blaming the child for HIS own lack of being a godly role model? Again, sometimes it’s a curse (but always a blessing) to know Scripture: “Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us” (Matt 6:14), or “How many times do I forgive my brother…” (Matt. 18:21) and more. Did I see anything Jesus said about them having to immediately–with the next breath–say “I’m sorry!”? No. You forgive immediately because it’s the right thing to do. And this wasn’t even a sin! Imagine that? Wonder how the man treats his enemies.

I reflected the next few hours on the scene I had witnessed. The child was having fun. He did something accidentally that, yes, should have had a “Grandpa, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!” but there had been no time. But he learned that it’s okay for a person who says he loves Jesus to instantly have a rage attack against a child; he learned it’s okay to do it in public; that it’s okay to blame the other person–because, after all, for goodness sake, they caused your rage. So the Bible must be wrong–anger is okay, because it was his grandpa; anger is okay but what if I make God mad? What will He do?

What a lesson in love. Is it any wonder the world calls us hypocrites? We talk the talk, but the instant our body or feelings get tramped on, we walk a walk Satan is proud of. I pray for this little boy, that he comes to realize anger is a choice that people make when they have no self-control, when they set themselves up with pride as if they themselves never make mistakes, so it’s okay to throw a stone. Especially at a little child. “Whoever offends one of these is [in danger of hell-fire]” (Matt. 18:6). I pray this little boy does not think God is like his grandfather, and think that God re-acts in anger when he has not meant to offend.

There’s not enough fun in life on the good days, let alone on the bad days. A child laughing in fun is a beautiful thing–and a merry heart does good like medicine (Prov. 17:22). Maybe that’s why so many of our children are on medicines in this age, you think?

The painting is by Drago Ivanisevic, copyrighted, and not able to be re-copied or painted. If you have questions, please contact me.

SHOW ME YOU LOVE ME….

Oct10

Walking into the ICU room, it took our breath away to see the man hooked to seemingly every machine the hospital had available for keeping someone alive. There was the breathing machine, inserted directly into his neck in the trachea, the filtration (dialysis), removing all the blood from his body, eliminating the fluid from the it, then putting the dry blood back into the body. The body responds by saying, “Hey! I have no fluid in this!” and goes into emergency mode, pulling fluid from arms, legs, hands–wherever it can, in order to keep the blood flowing and to keep his body from filling with fluid. The IV’s were providing some nourishment–not enough, but some. Because of the throat tube, he could not speak nor swallow–only small ice chips which could run down his throat were able to be in his mouth. Talking was not possible.

By the time we left, our hearts had been wrung to the point of despair. He is not an old man, being kept alive at the whim of family, but a virile, middle-aged man, whose thinking processes are alert and high. He is aware of everything said around him, and able to interact with lip movement. It was hard to learn to lip-read in an hour, but we did the best we could.

Everyone says, “Don’t keep me alive by machines!” In this case, it is necessary. The problem? The doctors aren’t sure. His breathing, when it stopped originally, caused the family to call 911, and the rest has been almost seven months in the hospital, trying to find a diagnosis.

When we got home, I began praying “fervently.” That means you recognize God is the only one Who can do anything and man’s wisdom is wholly reliant upon Him. I prayed for just ONE doctor who would go home at night, with the thought of this father, husband, son and brother not able to move, talk, or eat, and search every book known to man for an answer–but above all, one who would seek the Healer to give wisdom.

We went back a few days later, while the doctor was in, along with several other members of a team who were changing bags, adding medication, and doing everything in their power to help him. As the doctor was leaving, a member of his family stopped him to say, “He’s nervous about what you’ve been saying; can you explain to him?” The doctor stopped at the foot of the bed and in strong, direct words said, “Don’t worry–it’s all simple [what he had been doing and saying]! Everything is looking good,” and then he explained the medication, the numbers in the tests, and more. He exuded strength and knowledge. The patient took him at his word. When he left, the family member said to us, “He’s the best doctor we could have gotten. He told us he goes home at night, and has cried tears before God, asking for wisdom for what is wrong, and how to heal him.”

My mouth fell open as I told her that is exactly, to the letter, what I’ve been praying! God had shown me in one sentence that He had heard my prayer, and was answering that one. The rest? That everything will turn out the way we want it? I don’t know yet. But God does–and He will answer in His time, and in His way.

Do you think we’re the first people to cry out to God: “God, help me to believe You are here with me! Increase my faith! God, PLEASE, show me You love me!”? No. Does it help you to know that your deepest Valley of the Shadow is one that was walked by even King David himself, as well as countless others? In Psalm 86:16, 17, David cries out, “O, turn to me and have mercy on me! Give Your strength to Your servant and save the son of Your maidservant. Show me a sign for good, that those who hate me may see it and be ashamed, because You, Lord, have helped me and comforted me!” David was crying out, “God, show me You love me!”

David went through many trials–we don’t know if God showed up on this occasion, whatever it was, or if His answer was “wait,” or “no.” That’s where trust comes in. That is where faith gets proactive, and not pew-active. That’s where the rubber meets the road. Are you going to trust that whatever He does is right, or are you going to manipulate things so that it goes your way? It always comes back to a choice for us–sometimes so hard we want to throw a tantrum, and sometimes it shows us our heart.

May we all say, “Please, God, increase my faith! Increase my trust!”

IMPATIENCE: A LESSON IN JUDGING!

Apr20

Waking up, stretching, yawning… all of a sudden you ask yourself, “Where am I?!!” Then it all comes flooding back: the telephone call, the quick packing, the trip, and you’re waking in a motel room. You glance outside and see flowers. Everything looks beautiful. But something is missing. What is it? Then reality hits you: someone you loved has left the earth. You will leave here in a couple of days, and go back home, with only memories.

We’ve all gone through a similar experience, haven’t we? Perhaps not that, but close. I recall coming out of a Belk store many years ago (when my mind was sharp!!), and with all the Belk stores laid out the same, for a moment I had a true panic thought, ” What city am I in?!” Too much traveling, too much change, too quickly.

And so today I “wake up,” not having been asleep, but the fog from the concussion is leaving and I am able to function close to normal. Perhaps not at 100%, but enough that this page is now being written–the outcome of weeks when the mere thought was ‘too much.’ Been there? Overwhelmed by a thought of taking on a task? Yeah, me, too.

S0, congratulations! You are now back on track, you say. Who knows? Is there really a track? I know God showed me a lesson this morning, which is the first in weeks. Not that He hasn’t been there, just that I’ve been too far down to care. Does that shock you? Yes, Christians get there. Just like non-believers. Just like you, maybe.

And so God showed me a piece of my heart this morning: life has changed this year! Do you know there’s a “syndrome” for everything? Look up RHS–it’s a syndrome. I’m a victim. After a lifetime of being at home, raising kids, mowing yards, keeping the house clean, blah, blah, blah, my husband retired. (Retired Husband Syndrome). It should be RSS, because it can/is the same for husbands who have worked from home and then the wife retires. So far I have yet to meet someone who cannot relate, man or woman, when this happens. Love has nothing to do with it. Space has everything to do with it.

Suddenly, there’s someone in your space. You’ve been alone–or with kids–and were used to noises, and identified them mentally, and categorized them. Now it’s a new set of noises. There’s no “quiet time.” He says, “But I go to McDonald’s every morning for breakfast!” Sometimes he says he goes so he can have bacon, other times he says it’s to give me time when I’m by myself. Either way it’s the same, life is interrupted. Picky, picky, picky, you’re thinking. Your time will come. Believe me.

I notice so many changes, being with him constantly. He’s retired… that means no schedule, very few commitments, very few real responsibilities except of his own making. Yet his driving is beginning to create ulcers in my stomach. If someone is in front of him at the drive-thru window, move quickly. If the person at the red light doesn’t go, he fumes. Turn right on red, for crying out loud, it’s the rule in almost all states! I’d rather we took two cars.

I need to go to the post office; when? Who cares? Well, he just wants some idea. I don’t care, as long as it’s before 6 o’clock! Want to go to the gym? Sure? When? Who cares, you’re retired! No, Mr. Impatience wants a time. Why? I’m the one working!

He has taken over the grass cutting, which is good, since I began a hobby from home that has become a monster that is eating me alive. I want out. I dream of running away, but did it once and it created billions of problems I never want to see again. I dream of getting a job outside the home, but couldn’t make the pay I need. I just want out of my present dilemma and there are several ways it can happen. And so every day I beg God, please, let me out! I almost got out by death (that should have showed me right there He’s not ready for me), I’ll take terminal illness (would I really?), just GET ME OUT. And He hasn’t. Not yet. So my impatience grows and has become a tangible, breathing, living force in my life, driving down the joy, peace, and all that. All because I’ve gotten myself in a pickle I am helpless to get out of.

As I was pouring my first mug of coffee this morning, I suddenly saw my constant beseeching God to do something, and please, do it now, as the same type impatience my husband displays behind the wheel of the car. Other drivers are out of his control. My work is out of my control. He wants them to move NOW. I want God to fix my problem NOW. Don’t you hate it when God shows you your own heart? I do.

What to do? Everything. Confess that the things that are driving me up a wall with my husband are things that are in my own heart toward God. Realize my husband spent his whole life working for the money to let me stay home and raise kids–now he deserves his time. Trust God to move in a way that I will recognize is best when it happens. Trust Him that He has my back, and will give me strength. Trust Him that if He can SPEAK words–or THINK them–the world comes into being or a person is healed, then He can change my circumstances if it’s the best thing for me at this time. Trust—don’t fear. Perfect love casts out fear (I John 4:18), and FEAR IS TORMENT. Yikes, do we all know that?

Need encouragement? Go to http://www.trbc.org, and listen to the sermon for Sunday, April 19. Besides being a blessing on trust, you’ll hear Charles Billingsley sing “A Midnight Cry,” and yes, we’ll all be going home. Praise God–no more of this world’s garbage and impatience.

Father, You who loves me with a love I don’t understand, forgive my impatience as I beg You to lighten my load; give me strength for the race that is before me. Thank You for showing me that my impatience is no different than that of my husband, and no sin is greater than another–they’re all wrong in Your sight. Help me remember these lessons, Lord. And thank You for the resurrection power You’ve made available to all of us. Amen

Photo © Steve Sharp | Dreamstime Stock Photos

TURN DISAPPOINTMENT INTO HOPE!

Mar10

The fish were nibbling at our bait as we stood in the Gulf. Almost every morning at dawn you could find my son and me standing knee deep in the surf, holding our rods quietly. In our shirt pockets–yes, alive and wiggly–were extra minnows. My son had developed a great throw with the heavily-weighted circular minnow net, and we would stop at one of the small pools where the little fish gathered, and I would watch, enthralled, while he did the intricate toss that resulted in our bait for the morning! Now we stood, hoping some hungry Redfish or maybe a Black Drum would decide to grab our hook. We lived on the Gulf, and it was a quiet time we both enjoyed.

Our favorite hours, though, were when we could work in an occasional trip to the long fishing pier that was an hour away. The wooden pier seemed to stretch a mile out into the ocean, and we would always go with high hopes. The fish were plentiful but the probability of getting one up onto the pier–or close enough to scoop into the net–was slim. The big ones had gotten large by being smart! They wrapped around the pilings and we would generally lose “hook, line, and sinker,” as well as the fish!

My husband knew our son loved to fish, and promised to take him to Canada for salmon fishing when he was twelve. Twelve came and went, and no trip was made. Over the next few years it became obvious that this promise was not going to be fulfilled. As my husband said, “There are some promises which are made, but shouldn’t have been.”

Our son could have turned his back on his father, as that trip was something he had looked forward to for a very long time, but he didn’t. He came to realize that life does not always contain victories, and all too often things we hope for, plan for, or try to accomplish are a disappointment. You probably know people who have had one too many let-downs, and have given up on someone they love. Or perhaps someone has hurt them once too often, and they’ve erased the name from their list of trustworthy friends.

Have you ever thought about the night before Jesus was crucified? He was eating with His twelve closest friends–although Judas was not a friend, and you have to accept that His brothers were not there either. These men had watched Him perform miracle after miracle, and had every hope of Jesus doing some amazing action that would end the tyranny of Rome over Israel. They must have felt as though everything they had envisioned was about to become a shipwreck. In a way, it’s no wonder that a few hours from that time the disciples fled. They were confused, bewildered, and possibly even angry. Peter definitely so, as he became abusive in his denial when he cursed the girl who said he had been with Jesus.

If you had been in the room with Him, having all your hopes pinned to a good ending, would you have given up after He was buried the next evening? In a way, perhaps that is what you have done now. Perhaps life has handed you some pretty rotten fruit, and you feel you didn’t deserve it–and you know that Jesus could have prevented it from happening. Have you given up on Him?

Hopefully you are like my son, who trusted his dad even when a broken promise that meant so much was not carried through. Hopefully you have the kind of trust in Christ that can say, “I’m at a loss to explain why so much bad is happening, but I know this: He is my father, and He loves me. If this is going on, it is because His purposes are far greater than I can understand.” You see, we want to know the “whys.” We want to know what He’s thinking, and doing, and why He chooses us for the trials. We want life to be pretty perfect. And it isn’t.

Don’t give up on Him because things haven’t gone your way. Because, one day, when you look back at the long path you’ve traveled, you’ll see that He did not leave you for a moment. Even when you were rebellious, away from Him, and living in sin, He still loved you–and always will.

These last three weeks have been a journey that could so easily have ended in death, if you read the last post. My head is beginning to spin a little less frequently, and clearer thoughts are coming. But I never once walked through these days alone, nor did I ask Him why He allowed me to fall. You know why? Because I trust Him–that’s why.

Lord, thank You for loving me, especially when I’m so unlovely. Forgive me for failing You, for failing to keep promises of being the type person I should be. Thank You for never giving up on me, for carrying me when I can’t walk, and being faithful. Thank You for the scars in Your hands, Jesus–they mean You took my place in death. Amen

SHE DIDN’T FEEL A THING…

Feb20

The cops were gentle with the victim’s family, assuring them over and over that their daughter had not realized the impact was coming, and had, in fact, felt nothing. I listened, but could not comprehend. How could they know this was true? How did the girl not feel that moment of death? And how can they equate it to a “twinkling of an eye”?

Well, yesterday I found out that their words are actually true. No, that isn’t my car–for those of you who know me. And I’m not dead, by the grace of God. Apparently He isn’t finished with me yet. But what I didn’t know yesterday, I know today. And what “the twinkling of an eye” meant to me two days ago, has a different meaning now. And if it’s any comfort to you and to anyone you know who has been told that someone “did not feel anything,” they are right. And that should bring great comfort.

I was walking on a treadmill, something I’ve done hundreds of times before. And yes, plenty of times I’ve lost a second where I have to double-step in order to be sure I haven’t gone back too far. Nothing you haven’t done, if you’ve ever been on a treadmill. This is no horror story–it’s just how quickly life can change.

I was at 3.5 mph, finishing the first mile when the person next to me spoke to me, breaking my concentration. I was on the treadmill, walking, one nanno-second, and the next I was on my back, several feet away. I was told that my head impacting the concrete floor was so loud that almost everyone in the gym heard it, as it sounded like a bowling ball had hit the floor. And because I didn’t die, I felt pain. But the result could have been so different, and has been for so many people. Yet the incomprehensible thing to me was that there was no time factor between being on the treadmill and laying on the ground.

Later, in the hospital, I realized what the people who try to give comfort to families of victims actually mean: that the victim really didn’t feel anything, Had I died on impact, I wouldn’t have had any realization of doing so–I just would have been in the next life. One breath in this life, normal, the next breath no longer in this life. That was an amazing truth. And how long did it take? For sure, the “twinkling of an eye.” I don’t ever remember anything in my life happening with such “speed”–and no pun is intended. One breath I’m in one place, the next breath I’m in another. That’s how death will be.

This isn’t meant to be gory, depressing, or yukky. This is a piece of comfort that I can now offer to others who have had a loved one killed instantly, and who have carried a weight that their family member suffered. No, don’t add that weight to your shoulders, you already have enough hurt just from having lost them. But if the cops tell you they didn’t suffer, believe them. They didn’t.

For me, today, there is much suffering. I have a concussion that feels like my head is a beach ball, and turning my eyes hurts. The impact was so hard that rather than a gash, there were “explosions” where the skin erupted in several places, all bleeding with that uncanny way the head has of doing it so much worse than almost any other part of your body. The sound of the staple gun is something that may take a while to forget, but eventually it will fade! My head feels like I’m on a merry-go-round, going 100 mph if I change positions. But I’m alive, and will be fine. That’s a blessing I can’t ignore.

But there’s another lesson as well, of course, and that is that life can end that quickly. What if I hadn’t made my peace with God? When someone stands before Him, will anger, bitterness, unfairness, unbelief be a reason for God to excuse them? No, and you know it full well. And if you don’t believe, will that change things? No, of course not. Because what if you’re wrong? What if there is a God? What if He is holding you responsible? As I’ve said before, there are no parties in hell.

Don’t wait for a nanno-second to separate you from this world before you get things right, ok?

Father, thank You for sparing me yesterday. Thank You for the lesson learned so that others can be comforted about loved ones who were unaware of their transition. Help me make my days useful, please Lord, and not waste my time here. Amen

WIDENING MY PATH…

Feb13

The road was against the mountain on the left, but on the right it went down hundreds and hundreds of feet, with nothing to hold a car back from going over the edge. There was only room for one car, but Daddy still hugged the right hand side–more to scare me than because he had to. I sat as close to the door on the side toward the mountain as was possible, hoping to balance the car toward the mountain–just in case. I just knew that any second we would go over the edge, down those hundreds of feet to the ravine at the bottom, and never be heard from again.

Coming back was no less frightening. When Daddy’s business was finished, we would come down much faster than we had gone up. The turns were called “hairpin,” named after the quaint bent piece of thin metal that kept a woman’s hair in place. Daddy used to say it was because you could see the back of your car as your front was going around the curve. Like childbirth pains, you hardly were out of one curve before heading into the next one. Once he saw tire tracks going straight. He stopped the car and we got out, and–huddled together–looked over the edge. There, caught in trees way down the mountain, lay a large truck. Was the driver still alive? Could he have gotten out? We had no way of knowing. Telephones were just being invented, and one had to go into a town to send help.

Daddy wanted to teach me courage, I guess. It didn’t work. To this day West Virginia mountain roads scare me to death. They all had names: Dovel Holler, Piney Ridge, Boone’s Trail. But the narrow, winding roads were nothing compared to the footbridge that connected my Grandma’s house with Daddy’s sister. He would go across, then stand at the end, holding on to the (excuse for) sides. “Come on,” he would say; “you can make it!” I couldn’t. Fear took up residence inside me that made me break out into sweat. It was horrible. I could feel the bridge sway, and trying to stay away from the broken boards as I took a step was a challenge. Without a doubt he thought he was teaching me to trust him. I don’t know why the lessons didn’t take, but when I got older, I transferred the same lack of trust to God. I could have the faith that He had gone to a cross for me, but I didn’t know that He would have my back all the days of my life–even those that I messed up worse than anyone in my family had ever done before.

Somewhere along the line, one has to wrestle with the truth. I am constantly challenged to walk a footbridge with God at the other side saying “Come on, My child, I’m right here.” And I have to decide, if He’s big enough to speak the world into being, out of nothing, and big enough to speak life into existence, is He not big enough to honor His promises to care for me? But look what He let me go through, you say. You’re right. He did not make us puppets on a string, for where would be the quality in a relationship like that? He lets us sin if we choose, even though the consequences will be so big they may choke the life out of us. But He has promised so much more if we try to live as He desires us to. Did you know He will WIDEN THE PATH?

I would have been so much more confident if my daddy had said, “Sit right there while I make this road twice as wide!” Or, “Stay right there while I lay 2x6x8′ boards on this footbridge, so you don’t have to worry!” But he didn’t do that. But God does. II Samuel 22:37 tells me, “You enlarged my path under me, so my feet did not slip!” He is taking care of us, enlarging our paths, so that we don’t have to worry about falling! Awesome thought! The next time I think I cannot walk the path He has for me, like Daddy did, I will try to remember that MY God is capable of widening the path, so that I don’t have to worry about falling off. He just wants my trust, and desires that I know He will be there for me. Recognition of who He really is, and that He still cares for us, is an awesome, amazing, unfathomable concept to process with our finite minds! May we do so with confidence in His promises!

Father, I so often forget to consciously remember that You spoke the world into being, that You healed the sick, released the prisoners, and are still doing so today. Help me to trust You, to remember that You are not a man like us that we can figure out, order around, treat like a genii, but You are the God of the universe Who is trustworthy yet loving, just yet merciful, and waiting for us to call on You. Amen

REFLECTIONS OF REFLECTIONS!

Jan21

It was so easy to tell this was a house where Death had come. There were numerous cars lining the country driveway, most with out-of-state license plates. People were coming and going, obviously bringing food and seeking to help. The elderly man who had passed away was several states removed from the place of his birth.

Not long before the viewing on the evening before the funeral, the doorbell rang. On the stoop stood two middle-aged men, dressed nicely, wearing somber expressions. I looked at their faces, and immediately said “I don’t know who you are, but you are obviously near relatives of my father!” The resemblance was amazing, to be a generation removed.

It reminded me of a time when our youngest son was less than a year old. A visitor at church had dropped off his little daughter, and entered the sanctuary. After the service I heard someone greet him, and as he spoke, he added, “I don’t know anything about that baby boy in the nursery, but I can tell you, that was his father up in the choir!” He was right.

That type of comment makes one realize that as we go into the world, calling ourselves Christians, people look at us but do not know us at all. Yet when they see our face, can they tell that we belong to God? We should have such a close relationship to Him that it shows in our face. In Acts 4:13 Peter and John were preaching, and confounding many. Luke writes, “Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated and untrained men, they marveled. And they realized that they [Peter and John] had been with Jesus.” The association was obvious in their faces.

Proverbs 13:20 reminds us how important it is that we choose our friends carefully: “He who walks with wise men will be wise, But the companion of fools will be destroyed.” It is our testimony and our reputation that is at stake when we run with fools. God is not glorified, and Christ is not honored. One apple, the Bible says, will rot the whole bag! One potato, left in that plastic bag on the floor, will soon ruin the good potatoes that it touched.

This new year has hardly begun, but it’s not too late to get a relationship with God back where it should be. If you’re afraid to set the alarm, pray that God will wake you 15 minutes early, so you can read His word before leaving for work. And when He does, since you have prayed, get up, get your coffee or Coke, and spend some time with Him.

The biggest thrill of your life should be that you hear someone say, “That man has to be a Christian–he looks just like what I’ve imagined Jesus to look like!” Wouldn’t that be something wonderful?

Father, You truly are our father. When we’ve had earthly dads who have disappointed us, we have sometimes given those attributes to You. Or when things didn’t go the way we thought, we blamed You. Help us to see through the pain and troubled times that You are a constant companion, loving and kind, doing the best for us. Help us spend so much time talking to You, Father, that we begin to look like You. In Christ Jesus, Amen

EXAMS, TESTS & PRAYER!

Jan12

The books were right there, laying on top of the piano where I had left them the afternoon before when I arrived home from school. I distinctly remembered having every intention of studying, but then I pulled out the piano bench to learn “The Peer Gynt Suite” by Edvard Grieg! Where had my mind been?? SAT’s would start today! Of all evenings to have gotten a little extra cramming in, last night was the one! Trig was killing me, and physics was right behind it! Sigh. Why do some people have it so easy, while others have to work so hard for a C? Not fair! Picking the books by up, I headed out the door, already feeling the noose around my neck.

The classroom wasn’t crowded, so the teacher separated us in order to cut down on the ability to cheat. There were no cell phones in those days, and calculators or open books were not allowed in the room. Also, this teacher was a hawk: he didn’t miss an eyeball drifting sideways. I looked down at the paper, and the first problem might have been in Greek. Against the rules of the test (do each one in order), I went to the next–wow! Easy! So I zipped through the pages answering the ones I could, then going back to the ones that needed more brain time. Meanwhile, the brainy students were going one by one.

A month later the trigonometry teacher stepped into the English class and asked for attention. He gave the results of those who had scored highest in all areas. Then he stopped. “In Math, although I have no idea how she did it, considering she is failing trig, Sandy Day scored the highest.” Thank you, Mr. Whatever (his name is erased from my memory bank.) (Intentionally, probably). I knew right then I had figured out how to take tests: go quickly through the ones you know, then go back to the harder questions. Granted, there are probably rules that prohibit doing this now in the technological age, but at that time it worked well.

No one has to be a Rocket Scientist to know that life is full of tests. Only the naive think that when they get out of school, tests will be over! The test for your driver’s license, college classes, balancing checkbooks, having quarterly reviews at work, making the outgo and the income equal out–at least in some respects,–all of those and millions more are tests. It’s definitely not exaggerating to say that each day we have tests in some form or the other. If you have kids, you have testing. If you are married, you have testing.

Recently, I found a different test–one laid out in Scripture put there by the hand of God. I wasn’t looking for it, but this, still able to be called the being the beginning of a new year, is a good time to do a self-examination, or test. I was reading Psalm 15, and was immediately impacted by the question the psalmist asked in prayer: “God, who may dwell with You in Your holy place?” (My paraphrase). And then he gets his answer: anyone who lives a blameless life (wow, can anyone do that?); who walks in righteousness; who refuses to engage in conversation that is slandering to another person; who does not listen to gossip; who does not harm his neighbor; who speaks out against sin; who criticizes those who are committing the sin (that doesn’t go down well in this age of “tolerance,” does it?); who commends (and encourages) those who are faithfully following the Lord; who keeps a promise even if it ruins him; who does not extract the highest interest rate he can get by with, thereby putting a burden too heavy to bear on those he lends money to; who refuses to testify against an innocent person even if he is bribed heavily to do so—this man will stand firm forever. Whoa!! Those are the goals of someone who wants to serve God with his entire life. This obviously was not a test where one could say, “That one is easy, that one I’ll come back to, that one I’ll never figure out,” etc.!

It is easy to see that those are the standards of someone who must have a close and wonderful relationship with the Creator God! It is, as Paul writes in the book of Romans, the reason that the commandments point us to Jesus. Just looking at that list, and then seeing where you “test” out against each one of those attributes, tempts us to throw up our hands and quit trying. That’s why we need a Savior. If there were a chain with thick heavy links holding you to God, and each link was one of the commandments, or one of those characteristics in Psalm 15, how many would it take to break chain holding you to God? Only one. Someone had to pay the price for us, or no-one would be dwelling with God in that holy place!

Hallelujah, there was Someone who was able to pay that price, live up to the standard God had set, and then paid the debt that we could never pay. Yes, He lets us sin, and no, He doesn’t like it when we do. But if your child disobeys, and then is truly repentant, you are ready to forgive. So is God. Let’s try for a “Well done, good and faithful servant,” when we stand before Him, having passed His test!

O God, how we can relate to the psalmist as he cried out, “Who can abide with You?!” We see our failings–and I confess, Lord, that I am not always sorry the moment I fail You–and feel we can never be good enough. Then I realize how badly I need Your grace, and Your forgiveness. Help me–and others–draw near to You, so that You will draw near to us. Thank You for Your grace, Lord God, and for Jesus Christ. Amen

HOPEFUL OR HOPELESS?

Dec18

She was young, finishing high school, and so in love! Her boyfriend had joined the Armed Services, and she put her time in waiting for him to return. But while waiting, someone stepped in, and her mom told her she needed to marry. With dread, buckets of tears, with no skills for housekeeping, hygiene or parenting, she did as her mom said. When children came, she thought every act of defiance was because she was a bad mom. Finally, she broke. Not taking the children because she didn’t know how she would feed them, she left for a few days. But she was stopped from going back, and it was only one full day until she realized, bad mother or not, her kids were her life. One year, then two, passed. She couldn’t get her children back, and there was no hope. Jobs were scarce, and life was an endless tunnel of pain. Every child she saw was hers, and to see someone hurt a child was beyond pain. Finally, knowing life would always be this way, she bought two big bottles of sleeping pills and took them all, then laid down on her bed. The next morning she woke in ICU. Someone had found her. The nurse bustled over. “I see you’re awake! We lost you so many times last night, they were ready to give up!” What she thought was great news, made the girl go further into depression. When you’re on the bottom and can’t even control death, a new low comes into your life. That is hopelessness.

The pastor spoke quietly. “Everyone falls into one of two categories” he said. “You are either hopeful, or you are hopeless.” What a truth! Although most could only grasp the words on a superficial level, I knew there would be many in the huge congregation who understood exactly what he was saying. I knew of a woman who lived with such verbal abuse that I was amazed she had not turned to alcohol or drugs to kill the pain; another leads the life of wife to a womanizer, as the term is; another’s husband is so wrapped up in pornography that he allows his child to see it; and so many more horrific situations. Do you fall into any of these? Why does the victim stay? Because, although the life seems hopeless to us, there is a tiny flame inside that “hopes” a miracle will happen and they will some day escape.

On the other hand, there are families where everything seems to be great. The women lead useful, stay-at-home lives, caring for the children and home, and Dad brings home enough that the income covers the outgo, with some left. They have tons of hope! Where did the original road start? In their parents’ home? In their wise choices?

I know a girl who married someone who was Romeo and Sir Lancelot rolled into one! That is, until the morning of the marriage when he said, “I can’t go through with this.” Everyone figured “cold feet.” For over twenty years he has abused her verbally in front of the children, with words that no woman should have to hear. But she, like the girl in the opening true story, had no skills, and couldn’t take the children. Another young lady came to me to talk: she had married her “sweetheart” almost two years before. She is a Christian, and he supposedly was as well. However, when she came, she broke down as she admitted that the night of their marriage, he had rolled on his side and gone to sleep. In almost eighteen months, he had not consummated the marriage. There was no marriage, and I felt she had every right to get out. She did, and eventually married again. She and her pastor husband have two beautiful children, and I think of her often.

But there’s the flip side: the ones for whom no bell tolls, no tunnels end, and life is more than they can cope with. To end it seems so much the better, and they do.

Where, then, is the hope? We who know Jesus Christ as Lord know the scriptures that tell us He came to this world as a babe, because there was no other way to redeem lost mankind. He had to live among us, talk our language and live with us in order to reach us. And He did. He is the “hope of the world; the hope of all mankind; the hope of the Gentiles; the God of Hope” and many, many more! We have assurance that this life is temporary, that the trials here are because people prefer to choose their own way, rather than listen to the Creator God. He is our Hope, our Peace, and breaks every barrier down. No, life will not be a bed of roses–in fact, I can’t imagine more things more uncomfortable that laying in a bed of roses! Ouch! But neither can I imagine anymore a life where He will not take the useless and base things of this world, and turn them into something beautiful if we ask. The Bible tells us that He will give us “Beauty for ashes.” “The oil of joy for mourning.” How can one not “hope” with promises like that from the God whose promises have not failed yet? But you have to seek Him to find Him, and draw near to Him, so that He draws near to you. He will not force His presence where it is not wanted.

Hope for the Hopeless… He is!

Father, thank You for Your promise of hope for a fallen world. We cannot change our government, our parents, our intelligence, even our race or our appearance, but we can change the way we view You, view life, and we can hold fast to the way we trust You. You have promised wisdom to those who ask it, Lord, and for Christmas, I ask for wisdom to share the hope that lies within me–hope for a better tomorrow. Amen