Reconnecting to My Childhood.

Because of the internet I found a friend, one with whom I played as a little girl. We played with our dolls, we invented games about being mommies, teachers – and Dale Evans – Roy Rogers’ faithful friend; we shared meals, birthday parties, neighbors, games, dolls . . . she knew people who are now just blessed memories to me. Somewhere along the line, though, we went different ways and lost track of each other – almost fifty years ago!

A lot of water goes under a bridge in that amount of time. A lot of buried treasure, too. But with a few clicks of a mouse, I can go back and think about people and places that all contributed a bit to who I am today. Imprecise recollections surfaced these past few days – stirring memories, creating questions about  “what if . . .?”

Born to parents who lived through the depression and several wars, I grew up with an older brother in a modestly prosperous community, Stoneleigh, adjacent to a bustling city, Baltimore. Neighbors, playmates, teachers, aunts, uncles, cousins, lifeguards, shopkeepers, crushes: How did these dear people, whose stories I will never fully know, influence me? Or, I, them?  I never stopped to think as I rushed ahead toward the life I have now, not mindful of how lovely parts of  each day was.

Oh! How I understand Emily Gibb’s aching question to the Stage Manager in Our Town: “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?—every, every minute?”

For all the better choices I might have made, I am glad to be where I am just now – humbled that I am where I am – just for today – free to enjoy what I never deserved. And could never had earned even if I never made a bad decision.

. . . GOD is sheer mercy and grace; not easily angered, he's rich in love.
He doesn't endlessly nag and scold, nor hold grudges forever.

He doesn't treat us as our sins deserve, nor pay us back in full for our wrongs.

As high as heaven is over the earth, so strong is his love to those who fear him.

 And as far as sunrise is from sunset, he has separated us from our sins. . . (Ps 103:8-12 from THE MESSAGE)

A Faulty Faucet

Eleven o’clock on a Saturday night  is not the easiest time to find a willing, competent plumber – but we tried a referral, one whose recorded message promised a call-back in a few minutes.   

The hot water in our shower would not shut off last night – in a newly remodeled bathroom. We had installed new fixtures, but some of the stems upon which the bright and shiny brass and porcelain knobs rested were old – indeed, worn out.  The stems were not visible. A crack caused a screw to slip, and a washer fell off, meaning no matter which direction I turned the knob, hot water pulsed through. And no turn-off was readily apparent – meaning the only cut off was in the adjacent alley, under a manhole, close to the fence. Douglas bundled up, for the temperature had dropped to 27 degrees, and valiantly stopped the flow of water.

While he struggled to cut off the water, I quickly filled up a water jug, prepared the morning  coffee, and filled the bathtub so we might flush the toilets. And we settled down awaiting a jingle on the phone. By 12:45 A.M., we gave up and went to bed. At 8:00 A.M. the plumber called, set an appointment, and came, discovering the problem, and fixing it with some new stems and washers.

The simple motion, turning off a faucet, was thwarted. A good thing, hot water, became scalding and harmful because of an aging piece of hardware, hidden from view finally wore out. And one faulty faucet meant shutting down all running water. No running water changes a lot -- stopping many things, anything that I had not made provision for before the water ceased to flow. 

Christ said water was to flow out of me – living water. (John 7:38-39) But sometimes, what comes out of my heart and mouth is as unsafe as that scalding hot water, and the cause may be as  unanticipated as that corroded faucet stem – that cracked under heat and persistent turning. Intemperate speech can also shut down all kinds of things as surely as Doug shut off the water to the house. Unfortunately there is no advance preparation for such a debacle the way I provided for the inconvenience of no running water.  I have scalded other people with my tongue. The only provision I have is that there is a Balm. (Jeremiah 8:22)

The plumber replaced the damaged pieces, turned the water back on, and now the shower turns on and off again – the water’s temperature easily moderated because he reset the temperature on the water heater. What comes from me also can be moderated, though I can’t see or know the stuff in my heart. My heart “. . .  is hopelessly dark and deceitful, a puzzle that no one can figure out.” ( Jeremiah 17:9  from THE MESSAGE )

Grace rests the gauge on my emotions when I remember these things and act:

    God did not die and leave me in charge. “You grab a mad dog by the ears when you butt into a quarrel that's none of your business.” (Proverbs 26:17 from THE MESSAGE )

    God gave me Scripture to get at the corroded corners in my heart and soul. “Who can discern his lapses and errors? Clear me from hidden [and unconscious] faults.” (Psalm 19:12 AMP)

    God has a purpose in my speech. “ When she speaks she has something worthwhile to     say, and she always says it kindly.( Proverbs 31:26 from THE MESSAGE )

"[S]he who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, 'From [her] innermost being shall flow rivers of living water.'"  (John 7:38-39)

Cold Water In Loving Cups:

A Ministry?


Cable news succeeds in outlining, describing and reiterating what Paul observed: the days are evil  – These are desperate times! (Ephesians 5:16) And the times affect the very people who create them. (John 13:34, Matthew 5:44) Paul saw his generation and described ours:


        . . . People knew God perfectly well, but when they didn't treat him like God, refusing to worship him, they trivialized themselves into silliness and confusion so that there was neither sense nor direction left in their lives. They pretended to know it all, but were illiterate regarding life . . .   Refusing to know God, they soon didn't know how to be human either — women didn't know how to be women, men didn't know how to be men. Sexually confused, they abused and defiled one another, women with women, men with men — all lust, no love . . .  And it's not as if they don't know better. They know perfectly well they're spitting in God's face. And they don't care — worse, they hand out prizes to those who do the worst things best! (Romans 1:18-32 from THE MESSAGE )

People who believe God live in the midst of people who do not believe in Him, and our charge is to love each other and nonbelievers with love. How do I do I do this?

First, remember that but for God’s grace – and the loving forbearance of several Christians – I might be far worse than the Romans Paul described. Second, ask for a heart that loves – and a will that serves; neither one is second-nature to me. Third, put away the fire hose. I am learning offering cold water in loving cups is one way  –  though I used to think a fire hose of hot water was one way to quench the "opposition." Fourth pray for Christians who are visible – that they are transparent and effective witnesses of Jesus the Christ.


Finally, I found this e-mail from Peacemaker Ministries quite helpful on how to reconcile, live at peace, among and with “enemies.”

    Don't Drop Your Weapons!


    Paul also understood that God has given us divine weapons to use in our quest for peace. These weapons include Scripture, prayer, truth, righteousness, the gospel, faith, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control (Eph. 6:10-18; Gal. 5:22-23). To many people, these resources and qualities seem feeble and useless when dealing with "real" problems. Yet these are the very weapons Jesus used to defeat Satan and to conquer the world (e.g., Matt. 4:1-11; 11:28-30; John 14:15-17). Since Jesus chose to use these weapons instead of resorting to worldly weapons, we should do the same.

    (Adapted from The Peacemaker: A Biblical Guide to Resolving Personal Conflict by Ken Sande, Updated Edition (Grand Rapids, Baker Books, 2003) p. 248)


    Food for Thought

    What weapons do you tend to use when you are in a conflict?

    When we finally decide to reconcile with an enemy, we sometimes approach them with an attitude of "dropping our weapons.” But Jesus never calls us to be unarmed or passive among our enemies. To the contrary, he calls us to lay down our ineffective worldly weapons (like defensiveness, anger, self-justification, and gossip) in order to take up the truly heavy artillery (like love, peace, patience, kindness, and self-control). Take time today to read Romans 12:14-21 and resolve to take up again the weapons for which the Lord sacrificed so much to equip you.


Romans 12:14-21


    Bless those who persecute you; bless and curse not.

    Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.

    Be of the same mind toward one another; do not be haughty in mind, but associate with the lowly. Do not be wise in your own estimation.

    Never pay back evil for evil to anyone. Respect what is right in the sight of all men.

    If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men.

    Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is Mine, I will repay," says the Lord.

     "But if your enemy is hungry, feed him, and if he is thirsty, give him a drink; for in so doing you will heap burning coals upon his head."

    Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (NASB)

An`Estate Sale --

My friend spied an estate sale and passed on the address.  Estate sales are always on my way; so, I stopped; I parked on the same street that had obliged me a few Saturdays previously when another estate sale loomed. Approaching the house, I saw through large windows many good, but gently worn treasures in with everyday stuff – and so it was in each room. Alas, nothing for me.

 Leaving the house, a guard greeted me – testifying to the remaining valuables: sterling silver, a full length mink, rugs, books on collecting porcelain and silver, amongst costume jewelry, old appliances  – and half full bottles of cleaning and yard sprays, marked fifty cents. I looked up and saw a broken window pane in a dormer; the paint was pealing; looking around, I saw the yard was overgrown. In the driveway, people had removed the seats in their van to accommodate their find: a sofa with good bones and timeworn upholstery

Because of the economy, her home may be remodeled instead of demolished – and all her things, the care of which surely occupied a large portion of her resources – time, money, and thoughts – will have new homes – or molder landfills. What we work so hard for, becomes another’s property – for a season or two; where is that from in  Ecclesiastes?

A woman’s life sorted, tagged and on sale – not a thing that bore witness to a man’s presence. Who was she? Where is she? Did she have people to love, and love her? Did someone help her at the end of her stay in home?

Well, dear anonymous and elegant lady – thank you for letting me see your treasures. I hope for all the pleasure they gave you, loving hearts gave you more – and that you were loved and that you loved.

A Familiar Lonesome Wail

I remember the first time I heard the sound of a train – I was a small child visiting my grandmother in Jonesville, South Carolina. The tracks were several miles from her home.  Though trains ran throughout the day, I only heard them in the morning and evening. But, that wail intrigued me – I had seen pictures of passenger trains, and distant sounds kindled day dreams. My grandmother’s house still stands – does a child dream when she or he hears a distant wail?

The next time I heard a train’s horn, I was a junior at the University of Maryland – our apartment was literally right by the tracks. The landlord said we’d get used to it; he was  right. After the first couple of days I rarely heard it. I had no time for dreams.

But now, that distant wail – haunting and familiar – is clearly discernible at our new house! As I sat down with coffee, it greeted me – having said a goodnight before I retired. I have time for  musing – Does  that train wend its way east and north through South Carolina, and Jonesville, onto College Park, perhaps then chugging into Grand Central?  Another train now passes.  This is no way to get a morning’s housework done!

Coming to Terms with Time

Some birthdays are difficult to celebrate, for they bring an awareness of aging – a daunting prospect with all that attends!  I heartily concur with another woman’s thoughts:
   

    Come, thieving time, take what you must,
    Quickness to move, to hear, to see,
    When dust gathers near to dust,
    Such diminutions need must be,
    But leave, O leave, exempt from plunder,
    My sense of humor, curiosity, and wonder.

(An anonymous poem, from a 93-year-old  lady, given to her pastor in Washington DC church)

But a sense of humor, curiosity, and wonder aren’t always enough if facing  infirmity, loneliness  and death.

The first time I ever thought much about how old I was getting, I was staring at my reflection in a mirror - in Quito Ecuador - on my 23rd birthday; it dawned on me (finally) I was an adult – but the choices I had been making were not so wise. I had some decisions  to make, not fully realizing that growing up meant growing old.  That was the only birthday that literally troubled  me. Plenty of other times have given me pause to reflect on how quickly my life was passing – but not another birthday – so far.

About twenty-three years later, was one such time as I stood in the autumn sunlight of our dressing area, stunned by the realization that  “middle aged” was no longer an apt description of my age and stage. How it came to me was doing the math . . . doubling my age that afternoon I figured that put me well beyond what even Moses said was a reasonable  prospect of longevity. (Psalm 90:10) 

Another twenty years, or so, has passed since that epiphany – decades that brought all kinds of changes – the least of which has been aging: people whose lives I often took for granted died; new relationships have been forged – I have another “son” and “daughter” – gifts of grandchildren who will outlive me, God willing. Changes that seemed unthinkable have come to pass – wars, uncertainty, and a “normlessness”– anomie – that I thought only described post World War I; “unshakeable” foundations shook.  

When I first thought about growing older, I assumed I had time, time to dream and live those dreams out – time to make a difference  – I would make a major contribution to my world. And I would be very different from other women I knew! Twenty three years passed and  my ideas about what to contribute had changed; my desire to be so different has mellowed. Another couple of decades zipped by, and imagining the future is not as pleasurable as remembering how far God has brought me; I miss the women, my mother, family and friends, all from whom I wanted to be so different. And that sense of humor, curiosity, and wonder doesn’t overcome pain, loneliness and fear.

I read Isaiah 46:3-5 and am comforted by God, who is the God of my gray hairs – an important promise for one who decided to retire Miss Clairol.

“When my skin sags and my bones get brittle, GOD is rock-firm and faithful.”(Psalm 73:26 from THE MESSAGE ) 

Grateful for each day, then – even as my get up and go . . . diminishes . . . even with increasing limitations, I can with laughter, curiosity and wonder, pray: 

    . . . And even when I am old and gray, O God, do not forsake me,
    Until I declare Thy strength to this generation, Thy power to all who are to come.
    (Psalm 71:18)

    . . . Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.
 Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me.
 Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit.
 Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you.
 Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness.
 O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. . .  (Psalm 51:10-15)

My Window Now Faces South . . .

In our new home, because of my desk’s situation, the morning sky’s light is different – I face south. The light is gentler – in our former home, I faced east in the morning — but I rarely sat at my desk; I enjoyed reading and writing on the screened porch, (weather permitting) an exposure also protected from the sun. So, the light feels somewhat familiar.  

On either side of the desk are books, photos and tiny treasures, some that chronicle thirty-seven years together: some wedding gifts, many we collected. I added to the collection a Maryland memento. Saturday, while yard-sailing, (or, in Dallas, estate-yachting) I found a small Delft ginger jar, inscribed  Maryland – interesting to speculate what the connection was.

Were they transplants, too?

Texas is full of transplants! Business people whose companies relocated; Latin American and African immigrants, university and medical students – quadruple the mix since Douglas left in the 1960's. Many folks here, when asked if they are natives, reply, “No, but I got here as quick as I could.”  I genuinely like Texans – natives and transplants – everybody who have so graciously opened their hearts to us.  But I have never been more aware of being a Marylander – even a Baltimorean, though most of my life I’ve spent in the Annapolis area! What’s that about? I wasn’t so conscious of that when I lived in DC. 

Of course, this surprising tie to my provenance is like Doug’s. One evening as we walked, he remarked on the sunset – brilliant blue melting into orangery-purples – and I realized maybe he’d been missing the memory of how the sun looks – rising or setting.

Sunshine!

Yesterday and today have been glorious, cool and sunny in Dallas – after days of   showers and storms – downpours that have replenished water supplies.

Last Monday, as we readied boxes and bags for the Tuesday move, we worried about the weather – the clouds parted and the movers from Maryland and Texas converged –depositing the bits and pieces of our lives: the living room rug that I saw first in my husband’s bachelor pad was unrolled,  and the memories of our children playing, crawling and toddling spilled out.

Many open-hearted friends and family pitched in – with concrete, kind help – bringing food, muscle power and encouragement. By Thursday night – because of all their help – we could find our way around the house, and our son and his wife flew in – through the crazy weather – and we had a fun time – content to leave the chaos. Friday night the Texas family and friends entertained them and us.

Saying good-bye after breakfast this morning was hard – the feelings  reminded me of the Sunday we left our son at his college: for years I knew the day was coming – yet was somehow surprised that time did not simply stop.

. . . Time, like an ever rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day . . . 

But just for today I remember the kindness of so many and the love of the best kids a mom and dad could have, and God who made such a wideness in His mercy it found out me.

Stuff

Another move looms . . . Less than forty-eight hours until we settle in to our next home . . . Boxes, empty cabinets, empty walls – and rooms that echo slightly because the curtains are at the cleaners. Yep, I've moved a bunch . . .

My first move -- just a couple of suitcases: I left  Baltimore for Ocean City – to work for the summer before moving to a college dorm, then, into two different apartments in the same building, before I moved two more times around the College Park area – acquiring stuff, discarding stuff –  never having enough of what the next living space required.

Next, I moved into an apartment near the zoo in DC; within a year I moved onto Capitol Hill, NE. From there I moved to Ecuador for a year – moving around the country, twice.  Illness and revolution sent me back to South Carolina, with little more than what I had in a suitcase to recover before returning to DC – the outskirts of Capitol Hill, this time in SE. Then I moved to Georgetown . . . from whence I married and moved to Annapolis. I left most all my stuff for others to use.

In Annapolis, we moved seven times in twenty-four years; we accumulated stuff.  Lots of it was other people’s downsizing. God gave us children, and our stuff really multiplied! The moves became more complicated – and we needed storage lockers.

We’ve moved three times so far in Texas, each time acquiring stuff – and now we are fixing to move the fourth time. We have let go of a great deal of stuff; photographs remind of us of our real treasures: people and places.  An assortment of images, freezing in time people, who are no longer precious babies, toddlers – or teens; of people who now know what is on the other side of this life; rooms we loved in, argued and cried in; holidays, vacations – I see the colors, smell the smells and hear their voices. They all go with me -- 

So, I am  used to moving . . . and the sadness and excitement that fill the minutes and hours of moving day.   Forty-eight hours until we settle into our next home . . . Boxes, empty cabinets, empty walls – and rooms that echo slightly because the curtains are at the cleaners. And in the upcoming abode – the scenario is the same . . . packing up, sorting, tossing, saving for another time to dispose of, . . . my life is still in moving boxes?

Social Justice

Tonight we had dinner with some interesting folks – about 500! WORLD Magazine held a  dinner honoring Christians who are offering hope and compassion to hurting hearts without government help. They spotlighted three groups, from among many:

Crossover Ministry (www.crossoverministry.org) – Clinics offering healthcare, education and medicine to poor people in Richmond Virginia.
   
Snappin’ Ministries (www.snappin.org) – ministering to families with special needs children.
   

Forgiven Ministry (www.forgivenministry.org) helping reconcile children with their parents who are incarcerated.

Prior to the dinner we attended one of three seminars: Offering Hope to the Poor through Social Justice, with Marvin Olasky (editor of WORLD) and Stephen Tavani (Founder of WOW International – http://www.wowjam.com ). Both men are deeply committed to social justice – but not the way contemporary politicians and social engineers promote it.

The political left thinks social justice must needs not simply level all playing fields – they want  "From each according to his abilities, to each according to his need." The political right too often stumbles into social Darwinism – let the poor die off. The Bible teaches that justice separate the guilty from the innocent; (social) justice is always accompanied with righteousness – these are the foundation of God’s throne – and must be the core of how we serve the poor and hopeless.

Mr. Tavani believes if the Gospel is true and works in the worst places, it is true and works anywhere. To that end, he and enormous corps of volunteers go into tough communities with everything from free cold water, bicycle repair, hair cuts, manicures, food, family photographs, games and shoes. He and his volunteers escort a small number of folk at a time into a tent, and fit each with  free name-brand athletic shoes – after bathing the feet of those they serve.  Is it any wonder they draw crowds?   And to those crowds, he offers the Gospel of salvation, as he and his volunteers meet real needs. They believe doing is more important than saying. 

Mr. Olasky believes this as well, citing the difference between the ancient Romans and Christians hospitality. The Romans were hospitable to those who could do them some good; the Christians entertained those who could never repay. (Luke 14:12-14) He speculated that one reason Christianity may have caught on was not so much the teaching, but the practice by which Christians shared and risked their lives to serve.

It was quite an evening! 

Cause of Damage: Unidentifiable?

Moisture has been a problem in our little house, especially since it was vacant for almost two years.  We can see these problems because of the unusually rainy fall.  So, we’ve replaced the gutters and down spouts and we’ve installed a French drain whose conduit to the curb seems to be working. But we found old damage – damage that had been covered up by carpet for over twenty years.  Our contractor  noticed a little rotted wood under a window.

Fearing more moisture problems  or termites we asked the floor refinisher to investigate, and we called in the pest control folks, in an abundance of caution. The workman thought it was just old moisture damage; but, the manager of the pest control company came himself to ensure they had not overlooked anything in the initial inspection and treatment. He clambered around the crawl space and pronounced it free of termite damage. Then, he recommended an extra treatment, no charge, in case the culprits were carpenter ants, who eat damp wood.

Sin remains a problem in my life, though I confess Christ has paid my debt in full; I take steps to battle it – winning many battles, and losing some painful ones. Sometimes “religion”  gets laid over the losses, covering old wounds, the way that carpet covered rotted wood.

My Carpenter, Christ, (Mark 6:3) is in the business of removing covering – especially “religious”  coverings.  What we are discovering is the vestige of sin’s damage; like those floor planks that need ripping out and replacing – the damage needs replacing. But, with what?

I still have the memories, fears, and faithlessness. Frankly, it’s easier to replace rotten wood than live with the fallout of  rebellion – mine and others.    

Though the world has seeped into my heart as relentlessly as moisture accumulates under a pier and beam home and its passions gnaw at me as determinedly as termites or carpenter ants, yet I hesitate to act; I won’t act out of the same abundance of caution I did for our home. Too often I am embarrassed to call out for help, anticipating other Christians’ rejection or derision. Worse, I doubt God cares, or, can help.

Is that what I would tell someone, though, who asked me for spiritual aid and comfort? “ Don’t bother me – or God; I don’t care and neither will He?”

No! I’d urge you to pray – I’d read you Scripture – I’d pray for you! Why is it easier, then, to tell you what to do, than to hear the Gospel for myself?

Maybe because asking God to help me shows just how feeble I am. Asking God shows me Who really is in charge; Confessing His Sovereign rule is one thing; living it is quite another. I don’t mind asking for help I can pay for – I resist anything that underscores how poor  I am.

Today, Mr. Spurgeon commented on Lamentations 3:41, "Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens." He zapped me – identifying the cause of damage:

    The act of prayer teaches us our unworthiness, which is a very salutary lesson for such proud beings as we are. If God gave us favours without constraining us to pray for them we should never know how poor we are, but a true prayer is an inventory of wants, a catalogue of necessities, a revelation of hidden poverty. While it is an application to divine wealth, it is a confession of human emptiness. The most healthy state of a Christian is to be always empty in self and constantly depending upon the Lord for supplies; to be always poor in self and rich in Jesus; weak as water personally, but mighty through God to do great exploits; and hence the use of prayer, because, while it adores God, it lays the creature where it should be, in the very dust.

And there’s always so much dust during any worthwhile remodeling! (Romans 8:29-31)

Eve’s Problem – and Mine

When the woman saw that the tree was good for power, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desirable to make one wise, she took from its fruit and ate; and she gave also to her husband with her, and he ate. (Genesis 3:6)

Eve was created to be in the very place I would enjoy: the delight of her husband, living in a glorious garden with no pests, and no laundry. Yet, when offered a taste of something God proscribed, that’s the very thing she went for – fruit from the tree of knowledge because it looked tasty –  and would make her wise. In fairness to Eve, the serpent deceived her, challenging her to question what God said. (1 Timothy 2:14)

Where I live isn’t excellent in every way – as was the garden where Eve first lived. (Genesis 1:31) I live in the aftermath of their free choice. But, it’s way more pleasant than what Eve encountered when she and her husband were driven from the Garden.  In fact, I enjoy many of its fruits; I am grateful for its bounty. But, too often I can be as complacent as Eve was, not stretching, as she might have, for the fruit from the tree of life. (Genesis 2:9) And so when I hear the question, “Did God say  . . . ?” I can slide into doubt if God really said what He said. If He didn’t, then maybe I can be in charge and do what pleases me?

At the root of my doubt is disobedience – mine or someone else’s. I will not do what I should do, and I embrace what I should not. Or, I stumble into doubt because another Christian sinned. The thought, “God can’t be real if He let’s this go on,” flits by, and sometimes I invite it in for a chat, plunging myself into dark waters. 

Though presented with a powerful deception, could not Eve have asked Adam about challenge, or, God? My question goes beyond what Scripture teaches – but it is a life line in the watery darkness of doubts. But, I must look away from the temptation and search for God. Longing to enjoy pleasure, and to be wise, I am so like Eve, unless I look beyond my sin, or the sin of someone else. And when all I can see is failure – it’s hard!

The tree of life was not hidden from Eve and Adam – nor, is it hidden from me because of the Scriptures.

    Wisdom . . . a tree of life to those who take hold of her,
    And happy are all who hold her fast. (Proverbs 3:18) 

Christ is not hiding from me. He is as close as I permit; like Peter, though,  I can’t always handle the closeness.   . . .  "Master, leave. I'm a sinner and can't handle this holiness. Leave me to myself." (Luke 5:8   THE MESSAGE ) And left to myself, I am hopeless! (Romans 7:24) Fortunately Christ never left Peter, nor forsook him, and so I have hope. (Romans 7:25- 8: 39)  

    God, God, save me! I'm in over my head,
    Quicksand under me, swamp water over me; I'm going down for the third time.
    I'm hoarse from calling for help, Bleary-eyed from searching the sky for God.
    (Psalm 69:1-3 from THE MESSAGE )

My hope: 

I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. (Philipian 3:12 from THE MESSAGE )


Now, let me get on with the laundry.

Follow-up on Granite Countertops

I have enjoyed the fall out conversations from my discovery that granite countertops may pose health risks. Some  granites have been reported to have higher radioactivity – perhaps creating a link to cancers. But, lo, and behold, I learned the science is not so definite and the warning may be tied to advertising wars: the countertop competitors may have magnified the scientific details. And this from the man who gave me the great deal.

One says there is a threat; another says the threat is without proof; which do I believe? If death, even a terrible death like cancer, is the result of acting on a seemingly innocent decision, what then?

My religion teaches that my days are numbered and known by my Creator; my Savior comforts me, assuring me worry will not add a thing to my life. (Psalm 139:16; Matthew 6:27) My Redeemer promises I will see Him, even after my skin is destroyed. (Job 19:25-27; John 11:25)

But,  my Friend asks me, as He asked Martha: “Do you believe this? " (John 11: 26) 

Martha confessed her faith, called her sister, and finally let the burial stone be rolled away, demonstrating her belief. (John 11:27-41)  My circumstances are not so dramatic as Martha’s, but, the Lord Jesus’ question remains. He wants to know if I believe He is the Life, the Conqueror of death and my Deliverer from its snares? Alas, it is a question I struggle with, even as I answer “Yes!”

We are remodeling a house that may well be around after we are not; we made improvements – granite countertops – which were formed and will endure after we die. Until Christ returns, this material world will outlast us. Yet, the life God promises me is more real than the granite, and will endure His fire –

My flesh argues; my heart replies – my hope defends and delivers me:

     "LORD, make me to know my end, And what is the extent of my days, Let me know how transient I am.

     "Behold, Thou hast made my days as hand breadths, And my lifetime as nothing in Thy sight, Surely every man at his best is a mere breath. Selah.

    "Surely every man walks about as a phantom; Surely they make an uproar for nothing; He amasses riches, and does not know who will gather them.

    "And now, Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in Thee.

    "Deliver me from all my transgressions; Make me not the reproach of the foolish.
    (Psalm 39:4-8)

And deliver me from my own foolishness – please.

Should I Start Smoking Again?

I quit my three-pack a day smoking habit thirty-nine years ago this Labor Day. This morning I discovered I may have introduced a potential carcinogen into our lives that is almost as deadly as smoking.

So, what have I done?  I put granite counter tops in our kitchen and bath.

The voguish folk tell me granite is good choice; science, though, has issued  a warning. Today, surfing the net,  I discovered that my economical, valuable solution  may pose a health risk comparable to smoking! Wikipedia says:

    “. . . Granite is a natural source of radiation, like most natural stones. However, some granites have been reported to have higher radioactivity thereby raising some concerns about their safety . . .     Radon gas poses significant health concerns, and is the #2 cause of lung cancer in the US behind smoking . . . ” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Granite)

Something “natural” might be deadly?

Do we have, courtesy of Wikipedia, unexpected support for statements in Genesis 3 that the Fall was deeper and wider than we can imagine? That it distorted nature?  Builders, salesmen and scientists may disagree. But, I believe Scripture is right in saying that what God created as good, now groans under His curse. (Genesis 1:10, 3:17; Romans 8:22)   And what we promote as not just OK, but useful and cost-effective – see cigarette advertising before the Surgeon General’s report – may not be so fashionable, or wise. “. . .  What the world calls smart, God calls stupid. It's written in Scripture, He exposes the chicanery of the chic.” (1 Corinthians 3:19 from THE MESSAGE )

So when I am in my refurbished kitchen, preparing meals on a “natural” surface, I will be slightly disquieted, wondering if my penny-wise trendiness was so smart. I just hope they give me as much pleasure as the long pull on a Benson & Hedges I still dream about taking.

The Remodeling This Far

Getting situated in our “new” home has been a series of starts, stops, and holding patterns. Buying our bungalow took almost three months of negotiations, and this in a down real estate market! Though the little house presented well, we understood it needed some repairs just to maintain its charm. So, we decided to address the problems before moving in. 

Planning and pricing  the remodeling work took another six weeks. The contractor kept saying he likes getting the work figured out beforehand as much as possible, so the sure-to-come glitches will be less likely to derail us.

The remodeling started slowly after Labor Day, picked up steam and last week roared along with roofers, foundation workers, carpenters, electricians, and painters. Promptly, they tore out rotting wood, redirected water from the foundation, upgraded wiring and discovered gas leaks. One of the genuine delights of the remodeling has been seeing so many craftsmen, whose full names I don’t know, who are equally thoughtful, careful, diligent and creative.  Even so, we have had those glitches: a sub measured the kitchen and bath counter tops incorrectly.

At first, I thought it might not matter, but waiting an extra ten days to two weeks for the new counter tops didn’t set well with the contractor who had scheduled the remaining work for back splashes, appliance installation, attic insulation, and floor refinishing.  His careful preplanning kept me from accepting a delay, and he directed me to a faster and more cost-efficient alternative.

Do  any of these daily adventures compare to remodeling of my heart without over spiritualizing the analogies? Just as remodeling sites are usually  messy, even when the workmen daily tidy up, I seem messy, even as I confess and repent. There have been spiritual fits and starts right along with real changes. I have misunderstood, miscalculated and misconceived God’s resources and my need. Worse, I have dallied on my inner remodeling site, putting off what I was supposed to be doing, preferring other work. And I have tripped up others by my faults.

While I am a new creature – by grace through faith – I remain a work in progress. God, the Builder has worked a unique plan, one that overcomes “glitches.”

    When someone becomes a Christian, [s]he becomes a brand-new person inside. [S]he is not the same anymore. A new life has begun! (2 Corinthians 5:17 TLB)

    . . .  For God is at work within you, helping you want to obey him, and then helping you do what he wants. (Philippians 2:12-13 TLB)
   
    'For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the LORD,' plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. (Jeremiah 29:11  NASB)

Lord, I believe; Help Thou my unbelief!

A Painful Ebenezer: Talking to a Computer

This week the pressures of overseeing our humble  remodeling effort have kept me moving, and in the past two days anger has swept over me, almost drowning me in emotional “in-bursts” and out bursts. What robbed me of my composure is one too many conversations with a mechanical voice.  Before I could speak to a person, I had to answer a computer’s questions; sometimes I lost track of the choices and had to start over; sometimes I heard way too much elevator music; once the computer hung up on me, and then my cell phone started ringing with a computer-generated notification of an appointment. Surely, I could maintain my composure simply conveying information to a machine?

Alas, not.

What I have thought and what I have said this week has been neither wise nor kind.  (Proverbs 31:26) And this week we began a study of Dr. Paul Tripp’s book, War of Words. Does God have a sense of humor or what?

Dr. Tripp described the purpose of words, using Proverbs 18:21 in a pointed paraphrase: Words kill, words give life; they're either poison or fruit — you choose. (From THE MESSAGE ) God gave us words so we could, among other things, solve problems. (Can you imagine ordering phone service without using words?)

I had several problems this week – arranging work, ordering services and getting information – but how I chose to use my words, spoken and unvoiced, brought a bitter harvest. No computer held a gun to my head, demanding I think or speak rudely; I chose, either to think, or to say unkind, unwise words. More than once, I yelled  – at  a computer – to make a point; worse, I used words as if no one else could hear, souring my tone when a real, live person finally came on line.

So, how far have I come this week? (1 Samuel 7:12) I am learning again, Someone listens, and He hears even my unspoken words.

“May my spoken words and unspoken thoughts be pleasing even to you, O Lord my Rock and my Redeemer  ” – even when I am answering a computer’s questions. Let me use Your gift of  words so I might be prepared to speak with wisdom and winsomeness to the next person you place in my path. (Psalm 19:14 TLB)

All rather ironic given my comments on Rep. Wilson , huh?

So Far Around the Bend, I Missed the Curve.

Coming into the house, chatting on my cell, I dump my purse on the steps, and start searching for my cell phone so I can be sure and plug it in. I mean for almost two minutes I searched those pockets madly while keeping up a conversation on the missing phone.

What does this mean?

Current Events – Saying You Are Sorry to All the People You Offended.

When Representative  Joe Wilson  responded to the President’s assertion that illegal aliens would not be entitled to health care, he shouted, “You lie!” This assertion offended the President, the Congress, his South Carolinian constituents, and me. He apologized to President Obama who graciously accepted it. However on a news program Representative Wilson declared his refusal to apologize to anyone else and cited his civility.

The U.S. House of Representatives sit because of the shed blood of millions of Americans. I hope Rep Wilson will take the next step and apologize setting a concrete example of civility

Christ warned his followers that if you even suspect someone has something against you, make it right. (Matthew 5:23-25) It’s good advice for all of us – regardless of religion.

If I blow it, onlookers are sometimes as wounded as the person who was the brunt of my frustration. Taking the time to think about what I said and whom I may have harmed is time well spent; and having the courage to ask forgiveness from all whom I offend  – without inserting excuses – is part and parcel of being blessed by God. (Matthew 5:9)

Seven A's of Confession (From Peacemaker Ministries)
 
As God opens your eyes to see how you have sinned against others, he simultaneously offers you a way to find freedom from your past wrongs. It is called confession. Many people have never experienced this freedom because they have never learned how to confess their wrongs honestly and unconditionally. Instead, they use words like these: "I'm sorry if I hurt you." "Let's just forget the past." "I suppose I could have done a better job." "I guess it's not all your fault." These token statements rarely trigger genuine forgiveness and reconciliation. If you really want to make peace, ask God to help you breathe grace by humbly and thoroughly admitting your wrongs. One way to do this is to use the Seven A's.

   1. Address everyone involved (All those whom you affected)
   2. Avoid if, but, and maybe (Do not try to excuse your wrongs)
   3. Admit specifically (Both attitudes and actions)
   4. Acknowledge the hurt (Express sorrow for hurting someone)
   5. Accept the consequences (Such as making restitution)
   6. Alter your behavior (Change your attitudes and actions)
   7. Ask for forgiveness

See Matthew 7:3-5; 1 John 1:8-9; Proverbs 28:13.

The Cost of Ownership

Time lost is too rarely realized as an irreplaceable gem until it is long gone from its setting.  A downside of our recent yard sale was the growing awareness that managing my stuff foreclosed being with people: no time to dally over coffee, take a long walk, shoot the breeze, or ask a question. No, I had to be about hauling, sorting, discarding, keeping, selling repositories of my memories, while the most valuable commodity I had – time with folks I love – slid away.  A hidden price of my treasures cost me time with my husband, a conversation with my daughter; the cost kept me from listening to my son, watching my grandchildren, and calling a friend. If I had known this unseen but real cost of all the possessions –  slated for disposal – would I have been so ready to buy? 

A Yard Sale Ebenezer

This time last week we faced an enormous task: emptying a 10x10 storage locker, moving it to our former home, sorting, pricing and preparing for a yard sale, scheduled for the same day a hurricane was due to visit Maryland. Now, the day before, when flying up from TX, we enjoyed a smooth flight – with an empty seat on our row! Then we relaxed with kids and grand-kids, girding our loins so to speak for the “reveal” day.

So, Thursday a week ago, we rented a truck, and began unpacking the contents of the storage locker; what did not go home, went into a locker one-fourth the size.  Two friends pitched in; our daughter-in-law gave up her last days of summer vacation before beginning a new academic semester and joined the insanity wholeheartedly: loading, moving, unloading. Then, our daughter and son-in-law’s living room and porch became a mountain of Smith clutter. And the sorting began: this stays, this goes, this is trash; the “this” was a pile of priceless pieces of a long and happy marriage.

Friday dawned – the sorting continued while the pricing began. What’s realistic? What’s not? We had some help from an antique dealer who gave us a few bottom lines, and educated us: some stuff we thought was valuable were just decorator pieces; some stuff we thought was knock-offs were the real deal. Throughout the run-up to the sale, we tended a busy three-year-old and eighteen months-old who doesn’t know how to walk; he runs! Our daughter-in-law brought crafts and kept some semblance of quiet.  We worked until 10:30 P.M.; my daughter, taking the occasion to purge her “collection” worked until midnight! Projections of bad weather the day of sale slowly became firmer.  Did we have a fall-back plan if rain was a reality on Saturday? No.

Saturday, the big day began at 6:00 A.M. We awoke to a  humid morning, hints of sun shining through clouds; our son-in–law had secured tables for us, so we  quickly began transferring the inside on my daughter’s home to the front lawn. Buyers showed up at 7:15 – before we finished unpacking. The cloudy skies were a mercy; the humidity was not.  Sell, sell, sell – you offer, we deal – that was my mind set, closing my mind to the memories. That is, until one yard-sailor demanded how badly I wanted to get rid of a carpenter’s chest? I preferred consigning it. By one we had loaded up the truck and deposited what was not sold to the Salvation Army. Our unsold books went to the A.A.U.W.  And nary a rain shower!

Then,  we collapsed – taking a long nap!

Was such an effort worth it? Money -wise, we made some. But it wasn’t the money that made Thursday, Friday and Saturday worth it. (Next time I have the urge to purge, my “junque” goes to Salvation Army directly!)  What made these three days great for me was the people who helped and those who came to the sale – the helpers’ time, kindness and strength were invaluable. And those who came to sale, some shared genuine compassion, understanding what it means to “downsize.”  We also got to see friends we hadn’t seen in many years, who promised to give our stuff good homes.

Some of the lessons of the last week  are still percolating – but, given all the possible problems, I know God heard the  prayers for us – His kindness was overwhelming! From giving us many loving, helping hands, re-routing the rain, to having a good time with kids and grand kids – to getting rid of stuff we can no longer use, God is surely kind.