Through the Lenses

Headed down the highway, I watched the hills grow taller as I draw nearer to them. Through a blue and white cloud speckled sky, the sun filtered down. Wearing my sunglasses, I can see shafts of light carved through the sky; faintly lighter than their surroundings. Flipping my sunglasses to rest on top of my head, the differentiated light beams disappear. Glasses on again, and the light beams show up again. The lenses serve as filters to let me see the world differently. It struck me how different lenses impact the way I interact with my world. Just by adding or removing my sunglasses, my entire perspective changed. I started to think, what lenses do I need to put on each day?

Do I put on a lens of love? Do I love my neighbors like I want to be loved? Do I give them the benefit-of-the-doubt? Do I seek out ways to encourage and support them? Love has so many meanings. I can love a thing, a person, a place, a choice, an action, etc… Even though the word is the same in the English language, it has many nuances to explain depth of feeling and commitment attached to each, and each are very different. Just to give two differing ends of the spectrum, I can love a song. It can encourage me, make housework a little more up-beat, or just help set a mood. But that song, as much as I love it, is normally a blip on the timeline of my life. It pops up here and there, but it’s not a constant choice to love. I can love people with a lifetime of love that is a binder through mountains and valleys. This is a constant choice to love. The words found in 1 Thessalonians 5:8 are strong, “But let us who are of the day be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love, and as a helmet the hope of salvation.”  A breastplate, worn by a Roman solider is an example of being covered to protect the chest and back. With two main pieces, this armor was shaped to the body. Hinged on one side, and then fastened by buckles, the breastplate was further connected with bands of metal or strips of leather, passing over the shoulders and tying in the front. Love is mentioned as armor; in battle faithfulness and love serve as needed protection; a strong word, both individually and within the body of Christ to create unity. Christ is the armor and the source of faith and love; I rely on him for the strength to love.
 

Do I put on a lens of joy? Joy is drawn from a deep well, one that is far greater than happiness. Do I depend on the strength which comes from reliance on the Lord? Do I let joy color my thoughts and actions as I go about my day? I have so many blessings, many more than I count; and I’m actually quite happy. This morning alone, I have laughed deep belly laughs with family, those that are so good for our bodies and spirits. Yet, I need to distinguish between happy and joy, as they tend to be used interchangeably at times – and yet are not the same. Joy is present when I am not happy. Joy is an unlikely load-bearer that supports so many other things. Joy brings strength and long-term perspective that sorrow and sin cannot take away, for they will pass away and joy remains! Joy has the unshakable tenacity of faith and the strength of love. That long-term joy is expressed in 1 Peter 1:8 as “inexpressible and glorious.” As I sit here in the morning sun, rocking on the porch swing, I try to think of how to describe joy. I think it is a little like trying to describe the sun. Imagine that you have never seen or felt the sun. I can give you a scientific and fact filled description that tells how our sun is a dwarf star. The facts will be true, but won’t start to explain the feel of the sun’s warmth, the power of its heat, or the brightness of its light. Joy is like these things; simple and complex. Joy’s long-term view makes me see that if joy is this great in a fallen world, how much greater will it be when I am one day with Jesus.

Do I put on a lens of peace? Peace, as a gift that the world cannot give, is a reliance on something much greater than my own abilities. Anytime people come together, each carries their own thoughts, preconceptions, ambitions, opinions, perspectives, and varying degrees of skill on how to express them. It can lead to a fragmented nightmare or a harmonious body working in concert. Working with all of the other lenses that have been mentioned before, and will be mentioned after, peace calls to rule my heart and mind every day. I get up, get dressed, let out the dogs, get coffee (a necessity for my brain to work), and start my day. I will have many minute and a few large choices throughout the day, where I can choose to be ruled in peace or not. I know what it feels like to have anxiety swelling in my ribs, restricting breathing and making thinking difficult. I recognize this feeling, this is not the peace of Christ I have been given. Actively taking hold of that gift, I reclaim the peace which “transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” This peace, described in Philippians 4:7 is a jewel that has such worth that the price can never be met, it is truly a gift. The peace of God is a clarifying light. It brings order to the soul and shows that fear is a mere shadow. Peace is the result of time with Jesus. Not only as my Heavenly Savior, but as one who has walked this earth, laughed and cried, made friends and enemies, loved, healed, fed, and gave His love to us as a faithful gift of life upon the cross with His death. His peace is truly unique, it is not dependent upon circumstances, people, or places. It only depends upon Him.

Do I put on a lens of kindness? Kindness seems to be a word that can be easily diluted, making it into something lesser than intended. Ephesians 2 tells me that it was a kindness of Jesus in bringing grace; a point I certainly won’t argue with. But this perspective deepens the meaning of kindness for me; kindness being sacrificial and selfless giving. Am I kind when asked to give of myself, my time, my talents, or my resources? Not to be pushed into unhealthy extremes, where I am left empty and unable to give; but in a manner to put my neighbors first. Do I seek to show them kindness in the little daily things and the big sacrificial things? My calendar seems to be ever-filling, my to-do list ever-growing. It is easy for me to become caught in the busy aspects of the day, and simply overlook how a few sentences in a conversation, a quick text, a phone call, a letter, a card, or just being there can change someone else’s day completely. We need these kindnesses, I need these kindnesses. A kindness I think of is a return from a very hard trip a few months ago. When I got home, a friend had not only taken care of the house and the dogs, she had given of herself and gone above and beyond. After the luggage was in and I collapsed on the couch, I noticed that floor had been swept, the windows washed, and food was waiting in the refrigerator. Little things are enormously impactful, when done in kindness. Grace can never be repaid, and it was a gift of kindness; a powerful lens indeed. 

Do I put on a lens of goodness? A missionary visited and spoke on that very subject, using Galatians 6:1-10 as his text. Goodness, like kindness, can be used in ways to make it less than its intended meaning. Doing good, do good, and share good; actions are paired with this word goodness. Printed hand in hand, moving me forward in action, goodness inspires change. This is not come-uppance piety. Goodness is truth, the light of Christ, and the salvation of grace. The lens of goodness propels me to action as I encounter people either in physical proximity or virtually across the globe in need of the Truth of Christ. Goodness is sharing what we have learned with each other, not making each one go-it-alone; how lonely would our world be. Goodness is sown for a rich harvest. When I work in my flower bed, I admit that as much as I enjoy planting and picking, I don’t love to weed. I firmly believe that one weeding a year should be sufficient for the entire growing season. Invariably, it takes quite a bit more sweat equity as those weeds keep coming back and the plants need tended. As we give goodness to others, the harvest can be slow in coming. It can be a discouraging process as the weeds try to choke out the fruit, the deer nibble on the stems, and the weather doesn’t cooperate. Just like in my flower bed, I cannot simply give up and walk away. Instead, I pull weeds again. I stake the plants, water the flowers, and put out something to discourage the deer. The effort is worth the work as I pause to enjoy the beauty of the blooms, the structure of the leaves, and the fragrance that perfumes the air. Over and over, this long-term view of goodness is needed as we invest in each other for the glory of God and their gain.  

Do I put on a lens of faithfulness? I have always been interested in medieval history, read the stories of chivalry and honor. But, faithfulness is more than being honor bound to a feudal lord for battle service. Faithfulness is choosing to lead the life Christ led me to lead, even when it is not the life I planned. Am I faithful to honor promises I have made? Am I faithful to continuously seek after Christ, to put him first in my whole life? This word faithful is a mountain of a word, it is so large that to scale it can be a worthy, but daunting, challenge. Faithfulness makes me careful what I attach promises or a handshake agreement to, whether it is of small or large consequence. The lack of faithfulness, the breaking of trust in a relationship, creates cracks that require immediate attention and repair. Without that, they will continue to grow, ever wide and deeper, causing severe damage. And yet, what an example is Jesus to me of faithfulness, as I have certainly broken his trust before. As the Master Builder, he not only rebuilds, but moves to restore; many times making that relationship better and stronger than it was previously. To me, one of the very best definitions of faithfulness is in 1 Thessalonians 5:24, where the word “will” is used. This is a definitive word. The verse states that not only is Jesus keeping faith, and can be trusted – but he will fulfill his promises. He is faithful when I am not, and continues to draw me back to a solid rock upon which the foundation of trust is built and is strong. 

Do I put on a lens of gentleness? I love this word, gentle. It is a soft word, and many have mistakenly perceived it as weak. Yet, a gentle touch can restore, a gentle word can change the tide of a life, and a gentle moment can create a safe harbor amidst the storms. Gentleness can sting, words spoken in love can still hurt. But the intent behind them is to build, encourage and restore; not to destroy and tear apart. Gentleness paired with a quiet spirit is described as something of unfading beauty in 1 Peter 3. In this particular case, it is a woman's attributes being described. Though this week I am happily skipping the make-up, as it would just melt off anyway, I certainly understand the desire being spoken of in 1 Peter to be thought of as beautiful and think every woman does. We choose clothing, our hair styles, shoes, jewelry and many accessories to accentuate our best features. Though I may wish on Monday morning I could go to work dressed in my sweat pants and a comfortable t-shirt, that is not how I want to be seen there. As Shakespeare says, “Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle’s compass come.” The sickle of time happens to us all as we continue our lives. The beauty of photo edits and editorials in the magazines changes as we age. Life and laugh lines are something to be proud of, but rarely touted as such. White hair, earned through a life well lived is not a disgrace. Yet, here is this unfading beauty, a gentle and quiet spirited woman. 

Do I put on a lens of self-control? Not controlling, or attempting to control others; but control over myself is the focus of this lens. Author Evelyn Christenson wrote a series of books to women focused on strengthening their prayer lives, one of which is called Lord, Change Me. Realizing that it is only herself that she could work to change, the focus of her prayers became those things that Christ wanted to change in her own life. Titus 1 and 2 covers quite a bit on the value of the older generation teaching the younger a variety of things, including self-control. To teach how to self-monitor and change actions, thoughts, and how we act on our emotions can be a valuable lesson. Ironically, by letting Christ change me, it can be an example and a change agent for someone else. My thoughts land on two-women, one who did not not display self-control and one who did. They both faced the same task, they both felt stressors at about the same point. One unleashed her stress in a torrent of angry words and general unpleasantness at whomever happened to be standing by at the time. People tended to either pull back and avoid being the object of misplaced wrath; or rather meanly, provoke the outburst just to watch and laugh. She appeared a fool. The other woman displayed self-control, choosing her words and reactions. She chose to be gently strong, handling issues with a measure of graceful leadership that both moved the project forward and cared for the people involved. She created an atmosphere of openness, where ideas were shared, and was very productive. Needless to say people love to work with her. We all face challenges and difficulties. I am not perfect and in a moment of stress or fatigue, I can lose control of my tongue, temper, or the moment in general. Relying on the self-control of Christ can provide me with the strength to make wise choices, keep good habits going, and extend grace to others when needed (especially because I will need it myself).  

It sounds as if I need multiple lenses to look through each day. I choose to look through the lenses of love, joy, peace, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. “Against such things there is no law.” These lenses color my world in a unique way, and change the way I interact with it.

Through All These Things in the Luggage

I laughed along at a radio commentary today stating that on the average women pack eight pair of shoes for a week-long trip. I then complimented myself for only packing four, plus of course the shoes I was currently wearing. Throwing some shirts, jeans, a dress, and all of the miscellaneous necessities (books of course included), into my luggage; bags were hauled out to the car for a trip to visit my very ill grandfather. Very ill, dangerously ill – the miles between home in Iowa and my family home/ grandparents’ home in Ohio stretch out much further than the miles marked off on the highway.

What happens upon arrival is that all of these bags have to be carried in. Knees unbend from their cramped space in the car, arms stretch up to their full range of motion overhead and then sweep down to grab the bags and take them to their designated areas. Wait a minute, did someone stuff bricks in here? I don’t remember this being this heavy when I left. The longer I carry the bag, the heavier it seems to get. Could it be carrying its own gravitational pull? Surely, the bulging seams and strained zipper are not signs of too much in the bag, the bag must have just gotten smaller. Right?

The what if worries are taking their toll this week as we search out information and try to mentally walk through every contingency plan. The thing about the what ifs are that they are disruptive to carry around, and do not add a lot of substantive value. Luke 12:27 states: “Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”

I know I am not alone in this bonanza of over packing preparedness. As the packing process is going on, the what-ifs very punctually show up and start asking questions. What if your feet are cold, maybe one extra pair of socks of the thicker variety would be good to have. What if you need to have mucky tennis shoes, shouldn’t you just toss them in? What ifs quickly move into the bags, shouldering out justifiable items.

I am a kitchen sink packer. Friends can confirm it. But hey – the weather might swing 50 degrees and then who will be toasty in her parka or nice and cool in her sundress? Someone else might forget something, I’ll pack that too – just in case I will be prepared. In my own defense, I didn’t bring a jacket, hat or gloves on this particular trip. It is nearly June and that might be overkill. Maybe…

I pack my bag trying to think of contingencies. I might need this sweatshirt – toss it in. Extra socks? Sure, those are always good to have around. Lotion, mascara, and of course the various chargers and computers and such. Water bottles and snacks for the road are loaded in the car and we set off. The trunk is full and my feet are cramped for space. Considering my normal packing habits, I thought that this was pretty good.

Sounds pretty easy – right? No? The thing is, I have to choose to leave the what if and to pack the prayer instead. I have to choose to dismiss the what if and instead pick up thanksgiving. I have to put down my way and pick up trust in the sovereignty of God. The kitchen sink is still packed, but it is from a different kitchen. This one doesn’t strain my bag with bulkiness and is lighter to carry. Put down those what ifs and pick up thankfulness, prayer, and supplication.

Wind Just For Me

Winter in Iowa this year means cold and snowy days, bookended with bright sunshine and bitterly cold wind. Winter does have its benefits when living near the Mississippi River, watching eagles travel the waterway in search of open fishing spots. Almost two weeks ago, the wind had kicked up; making my face freeze in moments, finger tingling and nose chilling whenever I stepped outside. Wind in these cold temperatures where you have to lean into it to move forward; it makes me want to curl up in a warm blanket, in the sun, next to the pot bellied stove with a blazing fire inside of it and a cup of hot coffee inside of me! Heading out for a dentist appointment I had to brave the wind. As I walked from the office to the car in my many winter layers, I was grumbling to myself about the wind. It stung me with gravels and tiny pieces of ice kicking up with the gusts; leaving me digging in my purse for sunglasses to shield my eyes against the incoming micro assaults. 

Walking quickly to get out of the cold, I saw an eagle weaving in and out of the buildings along the road next to the river. A young eagle with wings stretched out fully, twisted into tight turns and then dove toward the earth only to catch the next wind and rocket back up into the sky. Skimming from the tree lines to the ice covered river, and then ascending in wide slow circles, other eagles performed a ballet on the wind. They seemed to only hold themselves ready, moving in faith to catch the invisible wind and trust that it would be there.

Invisible wind and eagle trust; my own thoughts started to catch flight and ascend as well as I continued to feel the wind against my face. It still made my fingers and nose tingle and my face feel frozen and stung. The same invisible wind stinging me was sending the eagles up in acrobatics against rocketing plumes of air. I saw them reach higher and higher, and then dip into dives with agility a pilot would envy, only to move to the next column of air and rise again.  Invisible wind and soaring flights; a thought was hovering on the edge of my mind and slowly built throughout the day.

I am someone who likes a plan.  I have found I can run with changes, but I prefer to know what the end game is.  Okay – the end game and all of the steps along the way.  In detail – copious detail…. When change comes without any of these things, I feel more like I have been tipped into the open space with the eagles, only with no wings and no wind. The thought of invisible wind and eagles grew in my mind, uncurling and suddenly it was a full thought; that wind was for me! That wind that stung my face suddenly held all the promise of summer as I heard the still small voice come back to me.  “Do you not know?  Have you not heard? ...They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Winds in life have been stinging lately.  They have kicked up debris and flung them about, stinging my face and making everything so very cold.  Where is spring; where are the soft warm breezes?  Where is the comfort and ease from the gusts that will knock me over?  And then, leaning into those very gusts, cold and harsh, I find myself celebrating them!  The wind – it’s for me!  It is my reminder in the midst of these difficult cold days of eagles spiraling on pillars of invisible air, my reminder that they are not merely  catching hasty moments in the air – they are soaring!

Invisible wind and my invisible God; they can both cause stings as I am lifted higher and higher on invisible mountains to new heights.  Let me lift up and stretch out my wings and soar. 

Why do you complain, Jacob?
Why do you say, Israel,"My way is hidden from the Lord; my cause is disregarded by my God”?
Do you not know?Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God,the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary     and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary,and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. 

They will soar on wings like eagles; 

they will run and not grow weary,    

they will walk and not be faint.

Isaiah 40: 27-31

A Collective Breath

Christmas Eve is here!  Complete with snow on the ground, making the White Christmas I sing about happily true this year.  The presents are wrapped with brightly colored paper, completed with sparkly shiny bows.  Cards expressing Christmas wishes to all are nearly ready to be given (my theory is that as long as they go out before the New Year it’s all good).  Soon, the house will be filled with the smell of Christmas Eve chili, lemon pie and a mixture of other goodies; complimented by the sounds of children, friends and family. 

The special time of Christmas is not something that is made up of all these wonderful things, though these are exceptionally lovely things to include.  It is a yearly instance where the world seems to take a collective breath and inhale the sweet newness of an infant in a manger; the feeling we get when we hold a tiny new life that is only minutes, days or weeks old.  Thrust into our arms, the baby’s weight is slight, but it fills us with the weight of love and responsibility. 

The pause of peace that occurs around this time of year is reflected in traditions, spontaneous declarations and heartbreakingly wistful wants of peace throughout history and the world.  The town of Turku, Finland, has declared a Christmas peace since the Middle Ages.  The holly and mistletoe, respectively the kissing plant and the plant of peace, are reminiscent of the kiss of peace monarchs would give and receive from their nobles.  The old history of many carols can be traced to the need of peace that only this new life a baby could bring.  In much more modern history, a desire for peace came out again in the Civil War, even amidst Christmas day skirmishes.  The soldiers’ hearts craved that peace should be the order of the day and reflected it in their letters and songs.  After the capture of Savannah, some northern soldiers delivered several wagons full of food and other supplies to the people who were caught in a land desolated by a bitter war.  In World War I, an impromptu peace broke out in several places as men in opposing trenches exchanged songs, a few gifts, and rallied their impromptu football (a.k.a soccer) teams with cheering, ringing foreign sounds of peace through no-man’s-land.  Much more recent is in war-torn Nigeria; a few Muslim and Christian neighbors have declared this very Christmas a time of peace to celebrate together. 

Beyond the kindness to strangers we many witness at this time, these days have a convention of people drawing in a breath and catching in a singular air of the divine.  I think it is more than just sweet traditions and customs that has brought about these singular moments that we know of, and the thousands we do not know of.  I think it is the celebration of an earthly birth of a heavenly king.  The peace our minds and bodies crave catch a whisper from the spirit, quiet amongst the sounds of wrapping, caroling, sledding, shopping, visiting, and cooking; barely heard and yet keenly felt.  It is the whisper that offers peace, the peace of the spirit.  The peace we have so long wanted is rested in our arms as a new born baby, Jesus.  The emptiness in the longing is filled with the hope of peace.  But, I think that it is not just the baby that impacts in such a tremendous way, it is the man as well.  The man that died for us, died for us out of love and returned to us out of love, to offer peace. 

In the hectic moments the next few days presents, I wish you a merry and peace filled Christmas.  That you will draw in a breath and catch a faint hint of the smell of a new baby in a manger, of a man on a cross, of the promise of peace in love. 

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
 I heard the bells on Christmas day
 Their old familiar carols play,
 And wild and sweet the words repeat
 Of peace on earth, good will to men.

 I thought how, as the day had come,
 The belfries of all Christendom
 Had rolled along th'unbroken song
 Of peace on earth, good will to men.

 And in despair I bowed my head:
 'There is no peace on earth,' I said
 'For hate is strong, and mocks the song
 Of peace on earth, good will to men.'

 Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
 'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
 The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
 With peace on earth, good will to men.'

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

   

  

Anthem of Joy

The Christmas musical And On Earth, Peace has finished.  Months of practice, planning, rehearsal, and preparation culminated into two nights of performance.  Then, it is over and we are left with stories, memories, and the tunes stuck in our head.

The musical score, each song that has been practiced over and over (and over) are hushed now from the formal performance.  But, these anthems of praise, anthems of joy, are not merely the music written for the performance.  It is the laughter and giggles, and at time chortles and guffaws, that have filled the stage – these are a theme in the anthem of joy.  Each of the carefully prepared devotions, led and given with leading questions are pointing out phrases.  The whip of flags provides a soft rhythm in the song; while the practices and performance of the angel color guard continue to add a momentum of building tempos.  The sound of little shepherd feet running to their places is a percussive vibrato accented by the quiet counterpoint of a whisper of wheelchairs and walkers and feet spilled with candlelight.  The hands on the sound board, the lights, and computer are all subtle in movement.  But, they are such an important part of the musical line, part of the joyous hymn.  A new baby’s sleepy sigh, a touch point in a phrase that is complex with many parts melding into time changes and key change, rings out into the smallness of the rafters and the largeness of the heart.  It is sensed in the feet of children dancing on their parents’ laps without conscious thought, simply with the need to join the celebration.  Whispered instructions from flashlight wielding stage crews add a new instrumental line; one so subtle that many do not notice, unless it would suddenly not be there.  The audience reaches out to meet the joy, and shares it back with applause, smiles, and warm wishes.

The music comes to a silence, but the anthem of joy does not end.  This time is merely another change of pace before moving to a new musical line.  Another key change, a new bridge, and a series of fermatas, then pause for breath before speed finds its new metronomic pace.  The anthem continues in the well wishes of Christmas, the wide-eyed wonder of the child who can twirl and experience wonder in helping place the nativity.  It is experienced in the feel of the clean crisp quietness belonging to the first snow.  The smells of cookies delivered to neighbors strike gentle glissandos, while the delivery of a blanket to one who is cold heralds joy like a perfectly struck chime.  Bells break in as Christmas carolers visit others.  Shared meals with harmony, dissonance, and resolution revolve in the bond of family.  Delicate soprano notes play as little ones don costumes and take their places on stages to win hearts and steal shows.  New chords are tried as new memories are made and old familiar chords blend in with sweet traditions.

The program ends, And On Earth, Peace.  The lights have come back on, and people eventually filtered back out into the dark and snowy night. But, the anthem of joy does not end.  It is the eternal anthem of the joy of the Lord, one of complexity and styles that has stretched for thousands of years of music.  And yet, though with different instrumental focuses, the same theme repeats.  Come, join in the anthem, it is the joy of the Lord.

Not Forgotten

Not Forgotten – the victims of the day.

Not Forgotten – the rescuers who ran toward danger

Not Forgotten – the prayer vigils that broke down barriers

Not Forgotten – unlikely heroes who displayed selflessness

Not Forgotten – crumbled steel, clouds of dust, debris fields

Not Forgotten – loss of innocence in looking at any and all airplane flying overhead

Not Forgotten – kindness of neighbors

Not Forgotten – where I was that day

Not Forgotten – the days of strife that followed

Not Forgotten – more sacrifice from those in uniform, and their families and friends that love them

Not Forgotten – leadership in terrible circumstances

Not Forgotten – integrity and honor as hands extended to help

Not Forgotten – many prayers for peace, forgiveness, and for those most directly impacted to retain hope

Not Forgotten – changing laws, terror alerts, new fears

Not Forgotten – structures created by ingenuity, built by strong hands, staffed with those going about their normal day, and their absence

Not Forgotten – a field that became a memorial for an act of selflessness

Not Forgotten – new dreams, new structures, new growth in that field

Not Forgotten – a new day, not that this whole threat is over, but that we can stand, in hands linked in prayer and strength to cry out with one voice

No, they are not forgotten.  And those who survive them and have attempted piece their lives back together are also not forgotten.  I remember where I was that day, the feelings of confusion, shock, and horror.  I remember the pride in those who responded, working to the point of exhaustion over and over to save lives.  I remember prayers for those I love in uniform, for their safety and care while they were going about their duties.  I remember the terror alerts that came out, the color coding system that seemed would become part of our daily world for a while.  Such a cry of pride in those who serve came out, making me also feel pride for those celebrating our responders.  We must not forget the horror of that day.  Nor, the kindness, ingenuity, strength, heroism, selflessness, and genuine love displayed in the days following. 

Countdown

   In just a few hours, the Discovery STS-133 will launch from its pad at Kennedy, and start its mission in space. What an amazing experience that must be, to feel the great engines lift you aloft and then the pressure gradually build until you are released into an environment of micro-gravity. The clock is already counting down; the anticipation must be building in Mission Control even now.

   I would love to be there, in that room, watching it all happen. Feeling the energy in the room, ebbing and flowing as processes are followed. People start gathering, sitting in the stands with binoculars and cameras at the ready watching the clock count down. They will feel the compression and shock of the air as the gases mix and combust. The sound will vibrate the inner ear as the eye watches the orbiter being carried away from the gravitational pull of the earth.
   How amazing it is that such a thing received so much of its early constructive knowledge in warfare. Early parents of rocketry found themselves gaining experience during the World Wars, as the instruments rained down terrible experiences on the population below. That beautiful orbiter, the External Tank, and Solid Rocket Boosters, they are an instrument of peace and exploration. We have just started understanding space, it’s mysteries and complexities, and something of terror gave birth to something of beauty.

Skid Strips

   There is a beautiful marble piece outside of the door, worn smooth with many shoe falls. It’s really a great piece of stone, but every time it got wet – it got really slippery. So, a thin ice film or just a little cover of moisture, and that beautiful stone becomes a polished stone that might as well have an oil covering. So, every time I would walk on it when it was wet, it required some fancy footwork – or a little bit of ice skating. Then, one day I walked there, and outside the door on the marble, there were black skid strips. I had a moment where I was just a little sad. Such beautiful marble and now covered in thick black lines. Then, I stepped over it and was very glad about the safety that was now there.

   There are other things in life that appear beautiful. But when you actually step over to examine it more closely, you find your feet slipping out from under you and the beauty changes to danger. It’s at that moment, those big thick strips are such a comfort and safety. Footing becomes firm, the door opens, and instead of doing a face plant against the threshold, I can actually step across it.
   When a danger presents itself, when a trouble starts it’s sing song of worry and dread, when fear works its way in slowly and subtly – look for the thick black skid strips. Look for the thick black skid strips in the Bible, in the Word of God, as you seek out the truths and peace He offers. There is nothing quite like it.

Yarn Knots

   I have a beautiful round ball of a red soft wool yarn. It wasn’t in such an orderly ball until recently as it had turned from a large spiral of yarn into a collection of knots within knots. It was hidden in the yarn bag because it was such a mess. As I started untwisting it and working through the knots, I found out that it was going to take a while. Take the ball of yarn through the four strands, then loop it back through three others. Undo the twist of two pieces that are then twisted under and over and around two other pieces. Yes, it took a while. But, slowly, the knots grew smaller and the ball of yarn orderly and wrapped grew larger.

   Knots in our lives can work in much the same way. We realize that the knots are suddenly growing out of control. Where did they come from? My first inclination might be to stick it bag into the yarn bag, don’t address it and hope that somehow it just becomes orderly on its own. And well, that didn’t work at all… So, the yarn has be taken out, the knots or problems must be examined and looked at. Then, slowly one twist at a time the knot is examined and a decision is made as to which way movement is needed to undo the knot. It takes time and effort to undo the knots and problems of our lives, whether on a personal level, locally, statewide, nationally, or globally. We cannot just place them in the yarn bag and hope that they fix themselves.
   Be brave, be strong, seek God’s peace and wisdom – take a deep breath and pull the yarn out of the bag.

Stranger

I have moved seven times, over four states. That is plenty of times for me to grow a strong dislike for moving boxes and moving companies and moving in general. Each location held challenges, unique opportunities, difficulties, and potential. Some of the places were fairly easy to adjust to and others were much more difficult. But, overall I have had my fair share of days when I felt like a stranger and an outsider in the midst of people who belonged and fit.
“To God’s elect, strangers in the world, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia….” (1 Peter 1:1). To the strangers, here we have this addressed to the strangers, those who don’t quite fit in the world around them. But, why are they strangers? I would imagine that many of them grew up and lived their entire lives in that area.
Stranger danger, it’s what we teach children in order to help them recognize the difference between friend and foe. If God’s children, or elect, are strangers in the world, then we must be designed to be at home with each other or within the body of Christ.
As a stranger, as a migrant of sorts in new communities, it can be a lonely thing. Not just getting lost trying to find new grocery stores, but needing the fellowship of the family of friends. But, Peter did not stop with acknowledging the strangers in the world, instead he goes on by saying “…who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and sprinkling by his blood,” (1 Peter 1:2). I don’t want to go into the difficult theology here, but want to point out one thing.
The words through, for, and by. Let me say it this way, “…who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and sprinkling by his blood,” (1 Peter 1:2). Through sanctification or growth in grace through Jesus is provided. This is a promise that the Holy Spirit will work with us through these things for growth. What is the purpose of this growth? To obey and be saved. Obedience to Jesus is to be a Christ follower, listening to and acting in such a way that we are obeying what Jesus tells us to do. Sprinkling by his blood, forget the arguments of sprinkle versus dunk and go to the next word, by. This is not sprinkled by the water sprinkler, garden hose, or shower. This is a sprinkling by the blood of Christ, the blood that saves us from our sins. So, a stranger is acknowledged as such, a stranger to the world. Separated out by the work of the Holy Spirit, obedience to Jesus, and being saved by his blood.
Fellow strangers, don’t forget the next part. “Grace and peace be yours in abundance,” (1 Peter 1:2).

Ignorance is Bliss?

Ignorance can sometimes be a difficult thing to take. It can lead to the what ifs in life that are hard to quiet. At other times, you wish you really didn’t know the upcoming details. It can be a frightening thing.



Jesus and the disciples were on the Mount of Olives. The disciples came to Jesus and wanted to know what to expect. They were cautioned to continue seeking truth, enjoined to rest in God’s peace. But, then there came a moment when the ignorance was stripped away somewhat. The words they heard were dire, terrible, and very frightening. I think I would have been tempted to stick fingers in my ears at this point, sing very loudly at the top of my lungs, shut my eyes, and spin in circles – trying to block out the words which were coming.


“You will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of me. At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and the each other, and many false prophets will appear and deceive many people. Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold…”(Matthew 24:9-12).


Yes, most definitely fingers in ears, singing loudly, eyes, shut, and spinning! Then, it gets worse. “When you see standing in the holy place, ‘the abomination that causes desolation,’ spoken of through the prophet Daniel – let the reader understand – then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. Let no one on the roof on his house go down to take anything out of the house. Let no one in the field go back to get his cloak. How dreadful it will be in these days for pregnant women and nursing mothers! Pray that your flight will not take place in winter or on the Sabbath. For then there will be great distress, unequaled from the beginning of the world until now – and never to be equaled again. If those days had not been cut short, no one would survive, but for the sake of the elect those days will be shortened. At that time if anyone says to you, ‘Look, here is the Christ!’ or, ‘There he is!’ do not believe it. For false Christs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and miracles to deceive even the elect – if that were possible. See, I have told you ahead of time,” ((Matthew 24:15-25).


Nah nah nah nah nah (hands are in ears, spinning is occurring, and eyes are shut)!


Is there any good news? Yes! The disciples were not left without hope. Instead, “he who stands firm to the end will be saved. And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come,” (Matthew 24: 13-14).
Maybe I can take the hands out of my ears after-all. I think I will keep my eyes shut still for right now.