Of things spiritual

Do you have your Sauls?

2011-03-13T22:22:00.000-07:00

I have the books of Samuel in mp3 form. Been listening to them here and there over the last few weeks as I drive to and from work. Quite the drama of Saul versus David.

Saul is King. Saul is really bent on killing David, running Saul's men all over the place in pursuit of this dog David.

David is on the run. There's a time when he's living in one of the cities of his enemies, having convinced the enemy he's now on their side. At other times, he's living in various caves. Yep, he's not safe at home; there's not really a home for him.

At some of David's actions, I stare blankly with eyebrows raised, uncertain what to make of them (killing this person, that person, wiping out someone's flocks). If some of those details weren't there, I'd more readily side with David. But overall, when I compare the lives of Saul and David as conveyed in the scriptures, I'm rooting for David, flaws and all. His having God's blessing or approval or annointing is a key part of that. His being the underdog is a key part of that. (His father Jesse went through all of his other sons first as likely choices when Samuel went looking for God's next annointed king. His response strikes me like this: "Do I have another son? Yeah, if you must know, there's David. He's... he's out there with the sheep. Seriously? David?")

On two different occasions, Saul has camped with his men while in pursuit of David, and David has snuck in and taken something and then alerted Saul from a safe distance that he was right there and could've taken his life, but far be it from him to touch God's annointed. And, one of those beautiful things about Saul, Saul has a reality check and responds with some humility, responds with kindness to David for David's kindness. Things are all better, well, at least till the next day or so when Saul is back to hating and pursuing David.

Quite a band of men has joined David. Men in flight themselves because they're not in the best place in their lives; they're in debt or are criminals or something; they don't fit in back home, etc. Strikes me they're a bunch of guys who aren't keen on answering to authority. I suspect they're also well aware that David has won several victories on Saul's behalf yet Saul now chases David in order to kill him--they have to be aware of this unfairness. I would think that that partly motivates them to side with the underdog. (And they all go off together and kill sheep and stuff.) They're on David's side, they don't like Saul, they know Saul's after their Main Man David, they've witnessed firsthand how David has spared Saul's life. These are all reasons that they should want to destroy Saul, I think. They are specifically aligned with David who is most certainly specifically being pursued by Saul.

Saul dies, commits suicide rather than be killed by the enemy. Along comes some enemy of Saul's who takes his body, cuts off his head, and sticks his body up on some wall for all to see. Accordingly, the pursuit of David is over. Someone comes to David with this report, no doubt wanting to be the bringer of news that would bring some relief to David (and some reward for the messenger?).

I'd be thinking that David and his band of debtors and rebels would let out a huge cheer. David started his flight from Saul alone, I think. Later, folks started coming alongside him. He now has this big group of guys following him around, fighting various tribes, and they have families back home somewhere. Certainly, it's settling in for them that there will a new form of rest (between flock slaughters), that this mean King Saul is no longer pursuing them. What a relief!

Yet what is their response? David goes into mourning. His men go into mourning. At the heart of their mourning: King Saul has been God's annointed, and now he was dead. There isn't mention of parties. The text is about them mourning. ("What...?")

That's been a fascinating thing to ponder. I have Sauls in my life. What can I learn from this? Am I supposed to learn something from this?

King Saul was a fascinating character. Throughout his life, he prayed to God, asked God for direction, praised God for outcomes, etc. Though I wouldn't consider him a godly figure, I still see those earmarks of God awareness, of not forgetting God. I see that in my Sauls as well: folks who go to church, talk to God, do beautiful things in other places. Of course: I'm not fond of any unresolved issues or injustice, any unrelenting opposition, any false claims against me, any withholding of love. Yet, there's an example here via David. Mourning, of all things; mourning that one who God had annointed had died. I guess David's focus was not on the interpersonal nastiness but rather on God--ala, "May YOUR name be set apart as holy. May YOUR will be done, here on earth just like it is in your heavenly dwelling." That's not my natural perspective, not my automatic response. I need reminders like this to correct my course.

I was out for a walk the other day, having just had a Saul nipping at my heels. I took verses with me to steer my thinking, the verses mentioned in the blog post just before this one. Those verses helped me again to strain to look the right direction: to God. I say strain because it is most definitely not a single moment where I just look toward God and am smiley and all's fixed and I've already forgotten what got me out on the walk. No, it's strain because it may only be 30 seconds before I'm back fomenting about whatever grievance and I have to shake my mental head to attempt to regrasp Who it is that I need to be looking to for my help, for my care, for my defense. I am to rest. I am to trust.

I doubt that David and his men mourned that the mean Saul guy was gone. I'm thinking that their mourning was over the tragedy of God's annointed gone bad. This world has gone bad. This isn't the best that God meant for. Mankind screwed it up. It's sad to lose loved ones. It's sad to lose enemies and never see resolution of losses. I don't know what all their mourning was about, but I think that a key part of it was out of respect for God, out of honoring God, out of conveying to God that they understood that things weren't the best that they should've been, and that the ideal was for all to follow God. They were God-centered in that gesture. That suprised me.

My Commander, if I choose

2011-01-19T16:37:00.000-08:00

I went for a walk today to work on making a much-needed mental shift and effort to connect with God and consider His Word.

Back in 2005, I typed up these verses and have kept them with me at work. I took them on my walk with me.

- Wait for the Lord. Be strong and take heart. I will see the goodness of the Lord.

- The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be still.

- In quietness and trust is your strength.

- The battle belongs to the Lord.

- Blessed is the man who puts his trust in the Lord.

- Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men.

- ...until you arrive in the place of rest the Lord will give to you.

- There is a full complete rest still waiting for the people of God.

- (a line from a gospel song) Will you trust me or will you fear?

Things that came to mind on my walk:

- My habit of late has not been to wait, nor to wait for the Lord, not to look to the Lord to fight for me.

- In some cases, I have denied that there is a battle. By my actions, I have aligned with and settled in with the enemy. While I should be viewing the enemy as my enemy and acting according to how God would have me deal with enemies, I have taken wrong sides.

- In recognizing a battle, I need to hold back and look to God. In contrast, I have been entering some battles with weapons of my choosing and with decisions of my own about how to go about the battle and for what ends. By my actions, I convey that I have not considered God as the Lord in this battle but am operating without the Lord. My agitation and fear are reminders that I'm not operating in quietness and trust in the Lord.

I've got work to do.

What's the purpose of observing a low point such as this? My thinking: those who are doing just fine don't need encouragement. Those in a slump sure need it more, sure need that ray of hope, that nudge in the right direction. Reflecting on my own nudge in the right direction--surely there is someone else out there who finds themself in a slump and thoughts like these may be timely. I'll be out of the slump. It's in that expectation that I write and encourage my fellow traveler.

A soul exercised

2009-09-21T00:04:00.000-07:00

I have created Google Earth markers for somewhere between 500 and 700 of the locations of photos on phoons.com (background). There are more than 4000 Phoons, so I have a loooong way to go.

Aha! It occurred to me that I have a file that contains the stories that accompany the photos. Those stories include the city information. What if I could bulk convert the city information into Google Earth markers? Sure, the markers would not be accurate; they'd just be central to each city; but at least I'd be creating markers in the general area and get closer to my goal far faster. And, so, I made a copy of the data file and began whittling it down to city details.

Fortunately, most of the city/story details in this file are in a very consistent form and I was able to bulk-convert most of the lines to city names in just a few minutes. The rest I'd have to read individually and hand-tweak to the form that I needed before I could convert the whole list to Google Earth markers.

I found I was typing "Portland, Oregon" a lot. I was encountering story after story written by my sister Jan. Her stories, written in a certain span of years, did not fit the pattern that cleaned up easily in the prior bulk conversion. And, so, now, here I was having to read story after story to trim down to city details. And I was being immersed in her journey with cancer: there were nurses and doctors who phooned at her request, fellow chemo patients who phooned (one lady boldly pulled her wig off to phoon with shiny scalp); family members phooned on an overpass between hospital buildings, Matt visited her in the hospital in the days before dating his future bride (Jan's daughter). Story after story. Wham, wham, wham. Jan, Jan, Jan.

There was extra intensity to this because of the month and because of this weekend. It's September. Jan died two years ago this month. And Dan, once her husband, is here this weekend, visiting Mom and me with his new wife Denise. What a wonderful gal; what a fortunate man. Dan reminded me that he and his son A.J. had visited us some time in the last two years. I remember that visit as well as I don't remember most of elementary school, likely fallout from grief. What I remember as his last trip was him and Jan working in Mom's garage to help sort things. On their trip home, Jan's body went goofy and the emergency room folks x-rayed to find a bunch of big brain tumors that had seemed to give her no trouble in her days here. (A few days later, Jan wrote about it in her typical light-hearted, God-trusting style.) What dear people Dan and Denise are. I cried with joy at their wedding, rejoicing in God's provision for each of them. I grieved then and grieved this week at not yet "having my own." I wouldn't be surprised that I will forever have unresolved loss around my sister's life, my sister's dying, and my sister's death. I'm so glad to have had this time with Dan and Denise. The scatteredness of this paragraph is fortunately not representative of how I have handled this weekend. It has been a delight to love when it's time to love. There has been a considerable weight, too, and I have found that I have needed more sleep.

And here's this Phoon story activity that flooded my thinking with Jan and her gifts in the middle of her cancer. Well, I got to the point where I wasn't up for continuing to swim in those thoughts any more at the moment. Blogging seemed like a good outlet in this moment. I'm sure I'll be fine tomorrow.

Unsettled by Dad

2009-09-06T23:00:00.000-07:00

Four years since losing Dad. Last week, he and I walked around my house and talked about the different rooms. He magically pushed through a wall and led me into a room I had never seen before, beautifully furnished with old everything, like from a museum. After a bit, I awoke from the dream.

Whoa, that was powerful. There was a depth to it like I hadn't experienced in a long time. It was good to see him, good to remember that man I valued. Soon after, though, I felt the pain of missing him. The pain outweighed the good feeling in the dream. I was shaken for a couple of days.

Last night, I went to church service. As we made our way through the many songs that kicked off the service, I observed that the African American man directly ahead of me continued to receive hugs and hand grips from those nearby. As is our tradition there, midway into the service, singing continues and folks are invited to slip out of their seats and make their way to the front; some stand, some kneel. While there's nothing magical about the front of the church versus the back or even the inside of the building, it's definitely evidence of something big going on for your heart that you'd leave the comfort and anonymity of your seat, make people shift so you can get out of your aisle, and end up in front with a bunch of other folks. The man ahead of me slipped out to head forward. Two brothers slipped out and hung their hands on his shoulders as they joined him to the front. On his return, he got more hugs. Another guy discretely slipped a handful of tissues into this guy's hand.

I knew that "meet and greet" time was coming in the service when we'd have the chance to say hello to folks around us we don't know. I remember how bizarre and how emotional it was to go to church for the first time after Dad died. No one else feels your particular loss; many of them are just enjoying participating in the joyful-feeling, toe-tapping singing. "This is supposed to be joyful, right?" was part of the storm of thinking on that Sunday long ago. And as we now continued in joyful song, my heart grew heavy from thinking of what this young man was probably going through. What was it like for him to be in the middle of joyous singing? What would "meet and greet" time be like for him?

Meet and greet time arrived and folks rose to their feet to begin the dance of who to connect with first. I dropped my hand on his shoulder from behind, and he rotated around. I used our shaking hands to pull him closer. "People are lovin' on ya like you lost someone," I said with a straight look in his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "Who did you lose?" "My father just passed away," he said.

In hindsight, I'm a little embarrassed at my actions--were they more about me in the moment than about where he might be at?--but I was genuine then and emotionally I meant it for him: I pulled this stranger close, hugging him. I told him I was so sorry, that I understood because I'd lost my father. I tried to express my understanding of the significance. He relaxed into the hug and conveyed this was a huge loss for him.

Yeah, there was a beauty in seeing folks rally around this guy, offering loving words, hugs. And I remember now how beautiful it was to me in the weeks and months after losing Dad how love came from so many people, how people I didn't know very well told me of their love for Dad or of how he had touched their lives. I guess I just wanted to be part of that memory for this guy, to be part of the wave of love that he needs right now, even from strangers. Maybe I got it wrong; maybe I was out of place. But I'm thinking the benefit of my love outweighed any oddity in my reaching out. Hoping.

That was it. The service went on, and I met with other folks after the service.

Last week, before I had that dream, I emailed the church and asked if I could help out in any way in their upcoming Grief Share program for those facing losses of all sorts. Interesting that I had these two events since then. They intensified my awareness that there's loss all around us. Loss goes on. We need to share in the journey. Will that guy be in the group? 'twill be interesting to see.

Scott and Joanne: what I'll remember

2008-02-23T14:56:00.000-08:00

An image is etched in my mind because of the story you told of your lives. You went to China for a Summer to teach English and share your lives. The Chinese students were eager to get this higher quality of English on their resumes yet had no idea what treat was in store for them.

Quickly they were drawn to you. You were no ordinary teachers. Scott, you conveyed facts and principles, and you surprised and delighted them with grand expressions and acts, even silliness. Joanne, you covered them with the love of a mother. Their prejudices and assumptions about Americans were shattered as they came to know--to experience--the love and friendship that you had for each other and that you extended to them.

The thing that stands out most, the thing that continues to echo in my mind after all these year after your trip and your telling the story, was your discussion with them about relational love. You drew a zigzag diagram illustrating a common problem: people in relationships where the attraction and interest declines and, instead of hanging in their, the parties go look for new excitement. The graph rises! But it shows the same descent until those parties part to find new relationships, and so the up and down continues. A common pattern. A socially-accepted pattern. But such relationships missed out on developing true love. If I remember right, you sketched a zigzag of your own relationship--you acknowledged pits you experienced in life--yet you reflected on how your commitment led to a graph that worked its way back up, as mutual love won out over personal satisfaction.

No doubt, I heard parts of the story wrong and have come up with the wrong details here. But what sticks in my mind is that you were in a place in your lives to be able to convey that story and you did convey that story, and not only to them but indirectly to me. And since then I have gotten to see you live it out in so many ways.

Scott, it is with excellence that you have lived that out. Joanne, it is with excellence that you have lived that out. Oh my gosh--that is exactly what a family needs to see and experience and have etched into their minds. Scott, you crafted a message and presented it to your fellow church goers. I was silenced as you laid out your stark journey of this last year for you and for Joanne. This excellence of living--it was obvious throughout your story as you spoke lovingly of Joanne and of those who have cared and will care for each of you.

And, as I said, these are the things that last for us! It is these kinds of things that I recall about Dad and about Jan, examples of love, humility, kindness, wisdom... In your living right, you have created this precious gift for us in the years to come.

I love you,

John

Miss ya, Jan

2007-09-29T23:59:00.000-07:00

Articles by Jan: Dear Helen A Divine Wrestling Match

There are a handful of conversations with my sister that I'll never forget.

While her cancer took her body down from 2000 to now, I witnessed the opposite in her spirit: a beautiful transformation, a great growth. I'd known the phrase "the God of Abraham" all my life. Because of the work of God that I saw her life in these last years, this phrase because rich in meaning to me: "the God of Jan." I wanted what I saw in her life. I want what I saw in her life. These were deeply personal things for me, not something I could easily express to her. But I was able to a couple of times in the last couple of years. I won't forget this phrase.

While awaiting a surgery, she called family members from the hospital. It was hard for me to speak up in a time that might turn out to be my last conversation with her yet easy for me to choose the words that were of great significance to me: "Jan, I'm so proud of you." And I heard the controlled tears in her pointed response, "I'm so proud of you, too." I won't forget that. I'll see you again," I said. I could hear her smile in her response: "Yes, I'll see you again."

A few weeks ago, Jan's husband called Mom from the hospital. Jan was alert, and it was an opportunity for Jan and Mom to connect. Mom called me in and handed the phone over to me. To my surprise, I heard Jan's cheerful voice. What would I talk about in this precious yet awkward opportunity? Looking out the window, I saw the beautiful flowers in Mom's garden and recalled Jan's enjoyment of beautiful gardens. I described to her the dark blue lobelia under the lavender cosmos. I heard sounds of satisfaction. I "complained" about Mom not letting me move the orange tiger lilies out of the section of garden that was otherwise pinks, lavenders and blue. Her response was a sort of chuckle. I couldn't really understand what she said after that. I told her that I loved her and that I knew she loved me.

Today, she's free. That's one of several things that I envy about her.

When I try some new combination of herbs and spices and hit on a winner, I'll hurt that I can't share my experience with her, the gourmet cook in our family. When I learn something new about flowers or groom the garden into a cluttered palette of colors, I'll hurt that I can't share those details with her, one who worked her garden with her husband as often as possible. I'll miss that I can't talk with her when I'm in a tough spot, I'll miss the embrace of her words of kindness, her words of strength when life brought challenges, her words of wisdom that might include rebuke, her prayers for my well-being.

Oh to be able to share my new creations, my music, my art with her, one who always encouraged me on, one who always exuded life, even when I called at some crazy late hour when I "decided" that her body probably wasn't letting her sleep anyway. Her longings for what I longed for will echo in my soul.

I only got to watch remotely as the God of Jan loved those who were around her... fellow chemo patients poured out their hearts, nurses poured out their hearts, families from church poured out their hearts to this one who had grown in compassion and insight for the great good of so many others.

With great honor I will be known as "Jan's brother." Jan, I'm so proud of you.

...but be transformed by the renewing of your mind

2007-03-16T01:54:00.000-07:00

A week ago, I listened to a message in which the speaker slipped in this advice: don't ask people what they think I should do in my situation but instead ask people what God's word says God says I should do. A fascinating insight. Recently, I've sought out advice, received unsolicited advice, shot from the hip, myself...and wavered between trust and turmoil as I hope for my head and heart to stop spinning. I have not been good about seeking out God's advice.

My sister Jan sent me an email tonight. She didn't really offer any of her own specific thoughts; mainly just these verses. Wow. How fitting. How calming, cleansing; convicting, correcting, quieting. I am encouraged to be reminded that even the fire is of benefit when I'm continuing to be crafted by God. I got God's advice, and it was good.

I want you to experience peace in the midst of your storm, too. And so I pass on the encouragement that was passed on to me.

John,

Verses that God gave me for you...

Genesis 50:20 As far as I am concerned, God turned into good what man meant for evil.
Exodus 4:10-12 But Moses pleaded with the Lord, "I am not a good speaker. I never have been and am clumsy with words." The Lord replied, "Who makes mouths, who makes people so they can speak or not, hear or not, see or not see? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go and do as I have told you. I will help you speak well, and I will tell you what to say."
Numbers 23:19 God is not a man that He should lie. He is not a human, that He should change His mind. Has He ever spoken and failed to act? Has He ever promised and not carried it through?
Deuteronomy 6:4 You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your strength.
Deuteronomy 32:39 See now that I, I am He, and there is no god besides Me; it is I who put to death and give life. I have wounded, and it is I who heal; and there is no one who can deliver from My hand.
1 Chronicles 4:9,10 Jabez prayed to the Lord. "Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territories! Please be with me in all that I do, and keep me from all trouble and pain-–keep me from causing pain too." And God answered his request.
2 Chronicles 7:14 If My people, who are called by My name, will humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, the I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sins and heal their land.
2 Chronicles 31:21 Hezekiah sought God wholeheartedly. As a result he was very successful.
2 Chronicles 32:7,8 Be strong and courageous. We have the Lord our God to help us and to fight our battles for us!
Job 23:10 But He knows where I am going. And when He has tested me like gold in a fire, He will pronounce me innocent.
Job 38:1 Then the Lord answered Job from [in the midst of] the storm.
Psalm 9:9,10 The Lord is a shelter for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. Those who know Your name trust in You, for You, O Lord, have never abandoned anyone who searches for You.
Psalm 19:13,14 Keep me from deliberate sins! Don't let them control me. Then I will be free of guilt and innocent of great sin. May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to You, O Lord, my rock and redeemer.
Ps. 25:15 My eyes are always looking to the Lord for help; for He alone can rescue me from the traps of my enemies.
Ps. 27:1 The Lord is my light and my salvation—so why should I be afraid? The Lord protects me from danger—so why should I tremble?
Ps. 27:11 Teach me how to live, O Lord. Lead me along the path of honesty, for my enemies are waiting for me to fall.
Ps. 27:13 Yet I am confident that I will see the Lord's goodness while I am here in the land of the living.
Ps. 32:7 You are my hiding place; You protect me from trouble. You surround me with songs of victory.
Ps. 34 Read ALL of it.
Ps. 37:3-5 Trust in the Lord and do good. Then you will live safely in the land and prosper. Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you your heart's desires. Commit everything you do to the Lord, trust Him and He will help you.
Ps. 62:11,12 God has spoken plainly, and I have heard it many times: Power, O God, belongs to you. Unfailing love, O Lord, is Yours.
Ps. 119:67,68,71 I used to wander off until You disciplined me--but now I closely follow your word. You are good and do only good...teach me Your principles. The suffering you sent was good for me, for it taught me to pay attention to Your principles.
Ps. 119:105 Your Word is a lamp for my feet and a light for my path.
Psalm 139 Read ALL of it...especially verse%2023 and%2024.
Proverbs 3:5,6 Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will direct your paths.
Proverbs 15:1,4,14,22 A gentle answer turns away wrath, but harsh words stir up anger. Gentle words bring life and health. A wise person is hungry for truth, while the fool feeds on trash. Plans go wrong for lack of advice—many counselors bring success.
Prov. 17:28 Even fools are thought to be wise when they keep silent: when they keep their mouths shut, they seem intelligent.
Prov. 18:17 Any story sounds true until someone tells the other side [sets the record straight].
Prov. 18:21 Those who love to talk will experience the consequences, for the tongue can kill or nourish life.
Prov. 25:8,21,22,24 Don't be in a hurry to go to court. You might go down before your neighbors in shameful defeat. So discuss the matter with them privately. Don't tell anyone else, or others may accuse you of gossip. Then you will never regain your good reputation. If your enemies are hungry, give them food to eat. If they are thirsty, give them water to drink. You will heap burning coals on their heads, and the Lord will reward you.
Prov. 26:4,5 When arguing with fools, don't answer their foolish arguments, or you will become as foolish as they are.
Prov. 28:13 People who cover over their sins will not prosper. But if they confess and forsake them, they will receive mercy.
Prov. 29:1,20 Whoever stubbornly refuse to accept criticism will suddenly be broken beyond repair. There is more hope for a fool than for someone who speaks without thinking.
Ecclesiastes 4:9,10,12 Two people can accomplish more than twice as much as one; they get a better return for their labor. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back to back and conquer.
Isaiah 43:1,2 The Lord who created you says, "Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name. You are mine. When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you."
Isaiah 43:19 "For I am about to do a brand-new thing," says the Lord. See I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness for my people to come home. I will create rivers for them in the desert."
Isaiah 54:17 But in that day, no weapon turned against you will succeed. And everyone who tells lies in court will be brought to justice. The servants of the Lord enjoy these benefits; their vindication will come from me. I the Lord have spoken.
Isaiah 55:8,9 My thoughts are completely different from yours, says the Lord. And My ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts higher than yours.
Jeremiah 1:4 I knew you before I formed you in your mother's womb. Before you were born I set you apart and appointed you as my spokesman to the world.
Jeremiah 17:14 O Lord, You alone can heal me: You alone can save. My praises are for You alone.
Jeremiah 29:11-13 For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for Me in earnest, you will find Me when you seek me. I will be found by you.
Jer. 32:17 O Sovereign Lord, You have made the heavens and earth by your great power. Nothing is too hard for You.
Lamentations 3:22 The unfailing love of the Lord never ends. By His mercies we have been kept from complete destruction. Great is His faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh each day.
Lamentations 3:55-58 I called upon You from deep within the well, and You heard me! You listened to my pleading; You heard my weeping. You came at my despairing cry and told me... Do not fear! Lord You are my lawyer! Plead my case! Be my judge, and prove me right.
Habakkuk 1:5 The Lord replied, "Watch and be astounded at what I will do! For I am doing something in your own day, something you wouldn't believe even if someone told you about it."
John 8:31,36 Jesus said, "You are truly my disciples if you keep obeying my teachings. And you will know the truth and the truth will set you free. If the Son sets you free, you will indeed be free."
Romans 8:28,38 And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purposes for them. And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from His love. Death can't and life can't.
I Corinthians 13:4-7 Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. Love does not demand its own way. Love is not irritable, and it keeps no record of when it has been wronged. It is never glad about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
Galatians 5:22 When the Holy Spirit controls our lives, He will produce this kind of fruit in us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
Ephesians 4:31,32 [These behaviors grieve the Holy Spirit] so get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander... Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.
Ephesians 6:10-18 Be strong with the Lord's mighty power. Put on all of God's armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all the strategies and tricks of the Devil. ... Use every piece of God's armor to resist the enemy, so that after the battle you will still be standing firm. Stand your ground, putting on the sturdy belt of truth and the body armor of God's righteousness. For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News. In every battle you will need your faith as your shield to stop the fiery arrows aimed at you by Satan. Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. Pray at all times and on all occasions in the power of the Holy Spirit.
Philippians 2:13,14 For God is working in you, giving you the desire to obey Him and the power to do what pleases Him. In everything you do, stay away from complaining and arguing, so that no one can speak a word of blame against you.
Philippians 4:4–8 Always be full of joy in the Lord. Let everyone see that you are considerate in all you do. Don't worry about anything—instead pray about everything. Tell God what you need and don't forget to thank Him for His answers. If you do this you will experience God's peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus. Fix your thoughts on what is true and honorable and right. Think about things that are pure and lovely and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.
Phil. 4:13 For I can do everything with the help of Christ who gives me the strength I need.
Colossians 3:12,13 Since God chose you to be the holy people whom HE loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. You must make allowance for each other's faults and forgive the person who offends you. Remember the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.

Love,
Jan

I look to you for guidance,
deliverance and strength
In the midst of all my troubles
~ I will wait for you ~

I am confident that I will see
Your goodness in my heart
I will wait for you, O Lord
~ I will wait for you ~

Wait for the Lord
Be strong and take heart
I will see the goodness of
the Lord

Wait for the Lord
Be strong and take heart
I will see the goodness of
the Lord

A toast to God, and fun with lasers

2007-02-27T23:00:00.000-08:00

[No profound points to be made here. Keep moving. Nothing to see here. Unless you just need a story to read.]

A month ago, a number of departments went offsite for an afternoon of relaxing with hors d'oeuvres (correct pronunciation: "horse doovers") and games of bocce ball. Those who arrived early received raffle tickets, and I, rare winner of anything, won a bottle of Gruet champagne and a group "Oooo..." I don't recognize the name, so I don't know if it's good or not--but hey! I won something!

As I left the event, I heard a clicking with the speed of my front wheel, akin to a playing card stuck into a bike wheel by a kid. I grew concerned that the transmission I'd paid for a few years ago was starting to fail. The sound went away after a few miles.

Two nights ago near an intersection, I punched the gas and then heard heard new, loud grinding sounds. "Whoa!" Transmission. The sound went away when gears shifted as I picked up speed. I nursed the car home, doing what I could to avoid stopping and being in first gear again. Whew, made it home.

The good news in the back of my mind was that the transmission might still be under warranty. The bad news was that I didn't know where the warranty paperwork was. Over the months, I had accumulated and not processed a bunch of items mailed to me. "Accumulated" should not be interpreted as "in one single place." Same for paperwork such as the warranty. Was it in one of the boxes in the house? in the garage? Was it in my car?

I inhaled and started poking through some of the boxes and piles. I continually asked God, "Please help me find it..." But soon I grew discouraged--I was dealing with my tangled web and also thinking about "what was the point of asking God?" It was easy in my discouragement to say that the majority of my prayers went unanswered over the years. I went away and eventually returned to poke some more and then get discouraged again.

Later, I sat down in the recliner and picked up a book I'd recently started. I came to a section where the author talked about God not answering because we're not asking for the right things. He prodded us to ask God what it is that we really need to be praying about in our lives.

I'm reminded of a message I listened to about praying. The speaker pointed out how so many of us might characterize our last year's worth of prayers as praying for little stuff--help me find a parking spot, help Billy on his exam, help me as I present the slides at the department meeting--little stuff that really would probably just work itself out anyway. The speaker challenged us to think and pray so hugely differently. I remember how eye opening that was for me and how it got me praying different that night. To start listening to that message, click here and click one of the links next to 1/7/7's message called Asking Big (I like the "f" icon choice...it plays the video version).

So, I stopped and, in my pain, expressed to God that I wanted help, I wanted to know what I should be praying about, that I hurt from not knowing. It wasn't about warranties or tax season. It was about life in general. That done, I moved on to the next chapter. In it, the author laid out a couple of things that he said he observed as key underlying problems for many who keep wrestling with life, key failures of people to grasp and deal with two key principles. I think that was a key answer I needed. (And I think the author knew it was probably the answer for many who were reading the book.) That was on my mind through the next day.

Still, my heart ached from thinking I pray about various things and then see either no result or facing yet another loss. And when I got up the next morning, here were a bunch of emails announcing that a bunch of my stocks had been automatically sold in my account for $0 each. Ugh. Another mess to straighten out. I ached for connection with God, for something I could point to and say, by golly, God heard me, or God blessed me in that, even just that one thing.

Mom and I went out to dinner. Talking about the things above helped lighten my load; and it enabled me to inhale and try praying again, something I haven't really wanted to do much of. I wanted to shift gears and re-reach out to God as an acknowledgement that that's right to do and acknowledgement that he's never left me, never stopped hearing me. I interrupted Mom to say I wanted to pray and wanted her to join with me. I told God how I wanted to find that paperwork, and if God wouldn't provide that, would he help the transmission guy find some paperwork that could help out, or would God show me whatever way could help me get this covered by warranty.

Back at Mom's place, Mom generously offered to help sort envelopes and paperwork with me. It didn't take very long to get through the collection...and we didn't find the warranty. However, there was now one pile of stock paperwork. That was GREAT because I knew I had to gather all of that at some point for tax season. And I found a call to jury duty which I had overlooked. Not great! The jury summons noted that failure to appear could lead to a $1000 fine and several days in jail. Ugh. More stress as I waited for 8 am to arrive.

After sorting paperwork, I had a pile of paper which I tossed in the fireplace. Smoke spilled into the room, setting off the ear-piercing alarms in each room. Mom scrambled to open windows and doors and I scrambled to yank 9V batteries. Sigh. All windows and doors open. It's raining out. It's cold outside. We're standing outside the garage to avoid breathing the smoke as it clears.

Well, there was the opportunity to look in another place of my car for the warranty. And soon I found it. "Yay! There it is!" Mom added the tongue-in-cheek line, "Yep, it's always in the last place you look for it!" We hugged, knowing the relief that represented for me, and recalling our discussion about all of this. She expressed what was on my heart, too: thanks to God. Sure, this might've been one of those things that would have "just worked itself out" in whatever form and at whatever expense, but, still, it was nice to get a break, get a bit of relief in the string of stresses.

In this moment of relief and of some tiredness from the day's and evening's activities, Mom said, "How about a glass of wine?" which we didn't have. Ah, but I had the unopened bottle of Gruet. "Ah, we'll have to get some special glasses for that," she said, as she grabbed some dark green goblets that bear zero resemblance to these or these. We planted ourselves on a bench on the front porch in the cold and I poured a couple of glasses. I also brought out a laser pointer I'd bought for my entertainment the day before as a replacement for one I'd had for years and broke.

There are two things you must take with you on your next trip to a fish store: a mirror and a laser pen. You'll soon discover which fish think the light is food and chase it all over the tank and which fish could care less. The mirror is great for oscars and octopi who are territorial. Oscars will fan their fins and open their mouths. An octopus at an aquarium stayed crammed in a corner as onlookers grew bored and left. With a couple seconds of mirror facing the octopus, it quickly emerged from its lair and moved to the other side of the tank. A smug, satisfied smile for me, as I got to see the octopus that others missed.

We picked up our glasses. "To God," Mom said, and we clinked glasses. I appreciated the sentiment, as unusual as it was to "toast God." We'd found the warranty. We'd consolidated the tax info. I'd made the house difficult to breathe in. I might have to pay some fine regarding jury duty.

I handed her the laser pen and said, "Hey, see if you can find the reflector on that gray car way down the street there." And so we had fun for the next 20 minutes, pointing it at different things (license plates reeeeally light up), talking about how various reflectors are designed, pointing it at new stuff, laughing and talking together. It was good champagne, a good laser pen, and good company, and a relief to have found the warranty card and have the rest of my mess far more organized.

We prayed about the jury duty thing. We went back inside and I read some more of the book to Mom, encouraging thoughts here, challenging thoughts there. More openness for both of us; that's good. It was good to have an answer to prayer. (Thanks, God, for slipping in one of those. Yet may I continue to do the hard work of asking even when I don't hear answers, taking you at your word when my emotions say to believe otherwise, trusting that you really do love me, even if what's best in your eyes may be for me to experience shadows.)

This morning, I called the courthouse and expressed my stress at having found I'd missed the appointment. I offered to come "serve today, even!" I showed up, was added to "Panel 8" and that was the first group assigned to a courtroom. In the end, I was not selected and I fulfilled my jury requirement without having to check in by phone for days. And I faced no penalty. Two more things to be thankful for.

Talking to the heart

2007-02-22T02:02:00.000-08:00

Over a month ago, I searched the internet for the words "listen to sermon online." I didn't want to go to church. But I wanted to hear something scripture-based. The third link down was about North Point Community Church. I didn't know who they were, but I followed the link. There I found a list of topics from the last few years and the first one I listened to amazed me. (That all amazes me... a fairly random search, a fairly random selection from the list of matches, a fairly random choice from among this one list of messages--and it was better than a truckload of messages I've heard over the years.)

I have listened to many of them since and was impressed enough at one point to think, "That would be reason enough for me to move there, to be part of what is going on in that community, to be in that healthy environment of growth."

Are you new to christian spirituality and want to avoid churchy stuff? Listen to Andy Stanley...or any of the folks in the list. Wrestling with christianity after years of it? I tell ya, I'm impressed with the depth and power in these messages. I hope you will scan the list and try out a few.

http://www.northpoint.org/messages

Miss ya, Dad

2007-02-07T23:34:00.000-08:00

Last night I went out and looked at the photo of you and Mom on the family room wall. I missed your friendship.

It's been over a year and a half, and I still find it hard to look at your picture. But I needed to remember you, remember your friendship, remember how you'd listen to me, how you'd say "Hm" when you paused to take in the thoughts and form new ones and swirl those around in your gentle head.

I wept as I remembered. A lot happened in the past years that would just make us silent, not understanding why things happened like they did. You might not have answers, but it was comforting just to be able to talk to you and weep with you and pray together. And to reach over and hold your hand and feel your squeeze. Or to get a hug that reminded me of the strength with which you used to lift me and pop my back. It was just good to be with you and experience your love and friendship.

I needed friendship. I needed to remember how beautiful was the friendship you extended to me. You'd understand with me where I'd failed; you'd recognize with me the little things I did that were steps in a good direction. You'd encourage me to press on.

Mom's been such a good friend, too. She misses you so much. We long to be with you again. We have that hope. In my aching in missing you last night, I thought how my missing you paled to her missing you.

Love, John

Though the fields produce no food

2007-01-03T18:02:00.000-08:00

It keeps coming back to "What will my response be?"

Click the words "I Wanna Say Thank You" on the right hand side of this page to hear a song that goes along with this post. [Here are the lyrics.]

On this dark evening for my soul, I opened up a bible. I thought to flip through the book of Isaiah--no goal in particular other than looking for anything that would check my attitutes, my thinking, my heart. It was one of those rare occasions when the place I cracked the book happened to be a place with text that spoke to my needs.

Here was a king, King Hezekiah, who had been quite ill, near death, and he regained health by God's kindness.

I said, "In the prime of my life must I go through the gates of death and be robbed of the rest of my years?" I said, "I will not again see the LORD, the LORD, in the land of the living; no longer will I look on mankind, or be with those who now dwell in this world. Like a shepherd's tent my house has been pulled down and taken from me. Like a weaver I have rolled up my life, and he has cut me off from the loom; day and night you made an end of me. I waited patiently till dawn, but like a lion he broke all my bones; day and night you made an end of me. I cried like a swift or thrush, I moaned like a mourning dove. My eyes grew weak as I looked to the heavens. I am troubled; O Lord, come to my aid!"

That dude had a rough journey. "Day and night you made an end of me." He suffered and was wearing out. He wanted help. At the same time, he had his sights on the end of his life. I have watched family members dying. I've felt at the end of my life before. I can't speak for them, but I can say I understand the "cut me off" and "made an end of me" sentiments.

But what can I say? He has spoken to me, and he himself has done this. I will walk humbly all my years because of this anguish of my soul.

Lord, by such things men live; and my spirit finds life in them too. You restored me to health and let me live.

Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish.

Whoa... Something happened in his life and in his heart that he was able to look back, even after remembering the points at which he hopelessly felt he was cut off and being made an end of, and know, really know that this was good for him.

In your love you kept me from the pit of destruction; you have put all my sins behind your back.

For the grave cannot praise you, death cannot sing your praise; those who go down to the pit cannot hope for your faithfulness.

The living, the living--they praise you, as I am doing today; fathers tell their children about your faithfulness.

The LORD will save me, and we will sing with stringed instruments all the days of our lives in the temple of the LORD.

--King Hezekiah, 687 B.C.

Well, one huge recognition was that God loved him, loved him even with how ugly of a person he'd been, attitude-wise, rejecting God. What touched my heart most, though, in reading this was the detail about who it is that praises God: the living. Yeah, yeah, I know about life after death, and praise will go on in heaven (and much more easily, that's for sure). The detail here is that he saw the opportunity for praise now. "Keep me alive so I can praise you, so I can tell others about you" was the nature of his response.

When I was 19, my view of life came out in these kinds of words to God: "I'm just a pawn on a chess board. Now that I'm here, you're going to just move me around on the board until you're done with me, and then you'll be done with me here on earth and I'll go to heaven. Ya know, I'd much rather be in heaven!"

I called my sister Jan one evening and talked about my discouragement. She suggested we both go and read the letter written by Paul to the group of believers in the town of Philippi. I wasn't familiar with it. I read along and then was wide-eyed when I hit this.

If I had to choose right now, I hardly know which I'd choose. Hard choice! The desire to break camp here and be with Christ is powerful. Some days I can think of nothing better. But most days, because of what you are going through, I am sure that it's better for me to stick it out here.

Paul had kinda said what I was thinking: "I'd rather die and be with Christ." But he followed that by saying it was more important for him to remain here with them. Someone who could relate to my interest in ending this life (ok, not quite) was also saying there was good in him staying, a compelling reason. What was that reason, I wondered! And in my ongoing reading, one of the impressions I was left with was that whatever I was going through, whether enjoying the successes of this life or facing suffering, I needed a different attitude about God. I had the opportunity, regardless of what I was going through, to be beautiful toward God, to honor God, to praise God. Which attitude of mine would he enjoy more--me kicking at that which was around me while ignoring him, or turning to face him in my suffering and sharing a smile, sharing a relationship, thinking of and telling him about things I appreciated about him, about his character, about his artistic ability, about kindness I'd seen shown to others--even doing that when I could not see goodness coming my way? That's what I could do--praise him, honor him. And that new thinking, and seeing that in Paul in his letters to the believers, that brought peace at many points in my life. (And I'm in need of returning to that again!)

Reading King Hezekiah's prayer reminded me of another place where the author noted that praise would still be his choice. Habakkuk was a guy who looked at the suffering going on in his country (famine, for example) and spoke out in anger to God about that. I'd sum up God's response to him as, "I know. But this suffering is what they need right now. There are some things they have not yet learned."

I envy Habakkuk. He not only got an answer from God but he got a reason. It definitely cannot be said that all suffering is for people to learn something. But in this case, it most definitely was, and now Habakkuk knew.

When I read the following text, I see Habakkuk as having shifted position, having changed his view of things. Earlier, he was angry with a God who he viewed as cruel for no reason. Now, he was aware that God's actions were not purposeless; God's actions were born out of commitment to relationship with these people, a good thing overall.

So, when I read this text, I feel the shift in Habakkuk's attitude from kicking at God to realigning himself with God.

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior.

The Sovereign LORD is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights.

--Habakkuk, 612 B.C.

I want to have that attitude in the fullness of my soul. (That song gives me a boost in the right direction...)

The crusty shell around the Lord's Prayer

2006-12-01T00:03:00.000-08:00

It keeps coming back to "What will my response be?"

On this dark evening for my soul, I opened up a bible. I thought to flip through the book of Isaiah--no goal in particular other than looking for anything that would check my attitutes, my thinking, my heart. It was one of those rare occasions when the place I cracked the book happened to land on something that spoke to my needs.

Here was a king, King Hezekiah, who had been quite ill, near death, and he regained health by God's kindness.

Whoa... Something happened in his life and in his heart that he was able to look back, even after remembering the points at which he hopelessly felt he was being rolled up, being made an end of, and know, really know that this was good for him.

Well, one huge recognition was that God loved him, loved him even with how ugly of a person he'd been, attitude-wise, rejecting God. What touched my heart most, though, in reading this was the detail about who it is that praises God: the living. Yeah, yeah, I know about life after death, and praise will go on in heaven (and much more easily, that's for sure). The detail here is that he saw the opportunity now for praise.

When I was 19 that I my discouragement about life came out in these kinds of words to God: "I'm just a pawn on a chess board. Now that I'm here, you're going to just move me around on the board until you're done with me, and then you'll be done with me here on earth and I'll go to heaven. I'd rather be in heaven!"

I called my sister Jan one evening and talked about my discouragement. She suggested we both go and read the letter written by Paul to the group of believers in the town of Philippi.

Paul had said what I was thinking: "I'd rather die and be with Christ." But he also noted it was more important for him to remain here. Someone who could relate (ok, in a distant way) was also saying they found a reason that staying was still good! What was that reason, I wondered. And in my ongoign reading, one of the impressions I was left with was that I was going through, whether enjoying the successes of this life or facing suffering, I needed to honor God, to praise God. Which attitude of mine would he enjoy more--discouraged and kicking at that which was around me while ignoring him, or turning to face him in my suffering and sharing a smile, sharing a relationship, thinking of and telling him about things I appreciated about him, about his character, about his artistic ability, about kindness I'd seen shown to others, even if I didn't think I was directly benefitting? That's what I could do--praise him, honor him. And that new thinking, and seeing that in Paul in his letters to the believers, that brought peace at many points in my life. (I'm in need of returning to that again!)

Reading King Hezekiah's prayer reminded me of another place where the author noted that praise would still be his choice. Habakkuk was a guy who looked at the suffering going on in his country (famine, for example) and spoke out in anger to God about that. I'd sum up God's response to him as, "I know. But this suffering is what they need right now. There are some things they have not yet learned."

I envy Habakkuk. He not only got an answer from God but he got a reason. It definitely cannot be said that all suffering is for people to learn something. But in this case, it most definitely was, and now Habakkuk knew.

When I read the following text, I see Habakkuk as having shifted position, having changed his view of things. Earlier, he was angry with a God who he viewed as cruel for no reason. Now, he was aware that God's actions were not purposeless; God's actions were born out of commitment to relationship with these people, a good thing overall.

So, when I read this text, I feel the shift in Habakkuk's attitude from kicking at God to realigning himself with God.

Here is a song that is fitting with today's post: I Wanna Say Thank You (find and click "I Wanna Say Thank You" on that page). I want to have that attitude.

(If you can't find it there anymore, and if you have downloaded the free ITunes player, here's a snippet of the song. Lyrics here.)

A kind word, part 2

2006-10-15T19:26:00.000-07:00

Of course, on the heels of my posting about kindness, I failed miseably with several people, not responding in kindness to points of offense. That helped sink home the contrast of what the man was pointing out. Having those thoughts fresh in my mind enabled me to apologize to these individuals. I don't want to be unkind...

A kind word and a gun will get you further than just a kind word

2006-10-02T23:34:00.000-07:00

I remember my brother quoting that years ago, using a gentle voice as if to convey some insightful wisdom. Cracked me up. My coworkers get to hear me repeat it with a similar contemplative voice. Poor guys.

I remember reading a book a couple of decades ago in which the author said, "There's never reason to be unkind."

"What?!" I had to read that section a few more times. He wasn't kidding, and he wasn't stupid. He talked about some tough situations, and he talked about still choosing to have a kind response. He wasn't saying that there are never sources of irritation or pain; rather, he was talking about the response I have control over. He was seeking to persuade me that not only was a kind response far better than an angry one but that it was also do-able. It was a profound idea to me. Clearly that was not part of my view on how to respond to things that irritated me or made me angry. How in the heck did he ever get to that point of not only self-control but extending kindness?

---

Greg has dropped by several times. I have enjoyed our visits. He's a kind guy. Dad has come up a lot in our conversations. Greg remembers Dad from when Greg was a boy. Dad caught his eye--he looked different from other adults. Dad always appeared to be thinking about something, seemed to be thoughtful. Dad wasn't just another adult drifting along; he had an active mind. Greg was intrigued.

Mom and Dad were there in some important times in Greg's life; they left an impression on him. And he wanted to reconnect with them now as an adult, to get caught up on whatever had happened in each others' lives. And he got to visit a few times in the years before Dad died.

I'm lucky now. I get to hear from Greg about Dad and remember Dad's kindness. Dad had that thinking look on his face. "Why do you suppose he thought so much, measured his words, spoke slowly?" I asked Mom. The three of us agreed he was considerate, wanting to show care to those with whom he was speaking.

Dad learned something key long ago, whatever it was. He made the shift from being angry inside and out to being a careful responder and a kind person. Hey, he didn't get it right all the time; the images of him frowning quickly blur among the images of him extending kindness even in the face of interruption, disrespect, unkindness.

I see that in my sister Jan, too. There's no agenda to right wrongs, no need to clarify her position. She extends kindness and blessing through words or a cheerful voice or simply a smile; I think about this and have to pause when I think of how I find out a couple days later that she was feeling nauseated or had barely slept the night or nights before or had back pain that made it hard for her to find a comfortable position. And then two days later find out that the reason her arm went numb and headache increased was that she had a tennis-ball size tumor in her head. And if she finds opportunity to love others and pray for them and be kind, she'll give it her best.

What will it take for me to get to that place? What excuses am I unknowingly and knowingly using to continue responses that fall short of kindness? Wow.

Passion, part 2

2006-09-22T00:30:00.000-07:00

In my prior post, I finished with this: "There's a big need out there and he's stepped in to be of help." Now that I'm actually reading the book, I'm compelled to restate: I'm glad he stepped in to help: there's a big need in here.

(p 47) After years in the church, I began to see that underneath those shiny suits and happy smiles were people just like me who were broken and sinful and desperately in need of acceptance and love and forgiveness. But for the first ten years of following Jesus, I tried to fit in with this consumer church culture, and it just didn't work. I was still a marginalized kid. I was the redheaded cousin nobody wants to take credit for: I made it into the family, but only on a fluke.

In Jesus' time, the religious community didn't accept him either. He didn't fit in. He lived in the margins. Over the years, I've found incredible comfort in this, because I realize I'm not alone.

More and more people today believe that the church as an institution is not an authentic or viable way to connect with God. We want to go someplace where people are straight-up about things and deal with life in a real way. We're searching for a place where everyone can admit who they are, let down their guard, and confess that they, too, need a Savior. The truth is, all of us who have a relationship with God can do so only because God has forgiven us and we're still desperately needy people.

I'm not going to do it, but I'm sure tempted to sit in the back of church and then jump up during some part where it seems like many people are just tuning out and say, "Hey, anyone who wants to join me: let's leave right now and go to the park and talk to each other about what we're wrestling with and remind each other of God's continued love for us." They would benefit from such interaction. I would benefit from such interaction.

(p 55) Jesus is a friend of sinners. He's there in the margins with the average Joe, with people whose lives are broken and tattered and sinful. People who have had horrible things happen to them and done horrible things back. Jesus is in there accepting them and tolerating their behavior. Why? Because he wants them to know that he loves them.

These aren't people who would get up early and go to church, or figure out how to jump through all of the ritualistic hoops thrown up by the religious community. These people have written off all that. They sleep in on Sundays and watch football and go to the mall. They're just the average person on the street.

Jesus is a friend to people like that, which prevents him from fitting in with the moral lifestyle of religious people. And so he's marginalized by them. They reject him.

I suspect Jesus would already be at the park, waiting for us.

(p 80) God said to Jeremiah, "My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water." Technology, entertainment, pleasure, knowledge--all these are mirages on the quest to fill an empty heart. They promise to give life that they know nothing of. They are nothing more than illusions--mere deceptions that will ultimately steal, kill, and destroy.

If we spend our lives banking on one or more of these things to give our life meaning, we end up losing the life we sought to gain. The deception is that instead of gaining something, we are robbed of something. Instead of living, we are dying. Instead of building, we are being destroyed. And we find ourselves stuck in the margins. Disappointment invades the margins daily as we trust in things that promise real meaning--but in the morning put their pants on and are gone. And we're left waiting in the margins. Thirsty again.

God hates that. He did not create us to fall victim to deception and destruction. Jesus invites us out of the margins to discover the meaning of life in relationship with him. "If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink," he says to us. He is not merely asking us to nod our heads in agreement with him. He is telling us to bank our life on him in relationship. That he is life.

He created your heart and knows what it longs for. What you crave can only be found in him. Quit seeking and drink. Enter into his love and trust moment by moment that he is all you need.

It has been peaceful, settling on that.

(p 106) When fathers abuse their God-given place in our lives, they leave a legacy of confusion and heartache for their children. Jesus invites us to reimagine life in relationship with the perfect father. Jesus redeems us from our sin and the brokenness of our father-wounds and he returns us to the Father and his love for us.

We need to understand who this Father is. If we don't we will simply take our broken understanding of what a father is and attach it to God, and that will only leave us confused and angry with God. He is very attentive to our needs, so attentive that he knows what they are before we ask. People in the margins struggle with this. Somewhere along the way, they learned that they're not really valuable enough to pay attention to.

I remember when a speaker painted a mental picture for our introspection. "You're at Sizzler, helping yourself at the salad bar, when someone exlaims that God is coming down the street and will be coming into the restaurant. What's your response? Do you rush out to the street to greet him? Do you go to the door to get a peek? Or do you go find a place to hide?" There may have been another option. I just remember that none of them fit for me. My answer back then was that I'd return to making my salad. I wasn't opposed to God, and, sure, I'd like to see him. But there were probably more people that wanted to see him more than I did and I could wait. The reality was that I viewed God as not really caring so much about me. I wasn't really valuable enough to pay attention to. The reality is that he is in love with me and you and is paying close attention to our intimate needs and longings of our hearts.

The author then repeats someone's story of a prince who was kidnapped when quite young and who grew up in a poor and troubled community. Years later, when rescued and put on the throne in royal clothing, with royal blood flowing through his veins, he wrestles with his memories of the life he lived and things he grew up around. He is named by those things. He needs to reimagine life as a child of the king--a reality more true than his experience.

(p 110) This is what Jesus is calling us to. Whatever your experience of life has been, the royal blood of Jesus was shed and is sufficient to bring you into relationship with your Father, who reigns in an eternal kingdom. You are a child of the King. You belong to him. It is time to throw away the old clothes of your brokenness and sin and begin to live under your Father's protection and provision.

Rick McKinley, Jesus in the Margins

Passion

2006-08-22T20:03:00.000-07:00

That word has been on my mind for some time now, as I have crossed paths with several people who are passionate about certain causes, some local, some global. They reach out to others, asking them to care about that issue along with them.

There is beauty and challenge in that we do not share the same passions. The beauty is that people are seeking to make a good difference; they are pained by what they see in the world and perhaps pained that no one seems to be doing anything about it, so they start tackling it. They are making a difference. If we all shared that same passion, a whole lot more would be done in that area, but everything else would remain ignored.

The challenge is that, since we do not share the same passions, it can be difficult to find those who share our passion, who have a clue why it is of interest to us, etc. And to further complicate things, there are opposing passions, too. And yet by there being "competing" passions, much more is taken care of on this earth. There are those who go to the extreme on protecting animals while humans suffer. There are those who would promote the welfare of humans and could care less if all animals were wiped out. It's a good thing, then, that there are both passions, I suppose; both humans and animals are getting attention.

Anyway, this notion of passion came up for me today when I read the online snippets of a book. Hopefully you can see the pages and click the triangles that turn the pages here: Where Normal People Don't Feel Normal.

The author has a passion for "those in the margin." That particular passion is one with which my heart resonates. There's a big need out there and he's stepped in to be of help.

Blue Like Jazz: Alone

2006-08-01T00:28:00.000-07:00

I read another chapter of Blue Like Jazz. It was entitled Alone--53 Years in Space.

As I read the chapter, I thought of many people I know who seem to be natural at being in community. That doesn't describe me. Reading this chapter got me thinking about how I need to work on that.

One of my new housemates, Stacy, wants to write a story about an astronaut. In his story, the astronaut is wearing a suit that keeps him alive by recycling his fluids. The astronaut is working on a space station when an accident casts him into space to orbit the earth, to spend the rest of his life circling the globe.

I kept seeing this story in my mind. I imagined myself in that spot, looking out my helmet at earth, wondering if my friends were still there. I would call to them, yell for them, but the sound would only come back loud within my helmet. Through the years, my hair would grow long in my helmet; my view of earth over the first two years would dim to only a thin light through a curtain of thatch and beard. Within ten years I was beginning to breathe heavy through my hair and my beard as they were pressing tough against my face and had begun to curl into my mouth and up my nose. In space, I forgot that I was human. I did not know whether I was a ghost or an apparition or a demon thing.

As I lay in bed thinking about this, I thought that something like that might happen to me. Stacy had delivered as accurate a picture of hell as could be calculated, a place where a person is completely alone. What is very sad is that we are proud people, and because we have sensitive egos and so many of us live our lives in front of our televisions, not having to deal with real people who might hurt us or offend us, we float along on our couches like astronauts moving aimlessly through the Milky Way, hardly interacting with other human beings at all.

Stacy's story frightened me badly, so I called Penny. Penny is who I call when I am thinking too much. She knows about this sort of thing. It was late, but I asked her if I could come over. She said yes. I took the bus. When I got to Reed, Penny greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. We hung out in her room for a while and made small talk. She told me about her father. She told me about how she and her sister spent a year sailing. I listened so hard because it felt like, while she was telling me stories, she was massaging my sould, letting me know I was not alone, that I will never have to be alone, that there are friends and family and churches and coffee shops. I was not going to be cast into space.

Loneliness is something that happens to us, but I think it is something we can move ourselves out of. I think a person who is lonely should dig into a community, give himself to a community, humble himself before his friends, initiate community, teach people to care for each other, love each other.

Rick told me, a little later, I should be living in community. He said I should have people around bugging me and getting under my skin because without people I could not grow--I could not grown in God and I could not grow as a human. We are born into families, he said, and we are needy at first as children because God wants us together, living among on another, not hiding ourselves under logs like fungus. You are not a fungus, he told me, you are a human, and you need other people in your life in order to be healthy.

(The title of the next chapter cracks me up. Can't wait to read it. "Community--Living with Freaks".)

[Addendum: I read it. Man. That was a powerful chapter.]

A proverb involving a bird

2006-07-20T01:05:00.000-07:00

I remember a guy in college saying, "You can't stop a bird from landing on your head, but you can prevent it from building a nest in your hair."

That came back to mind after this photo I took last week.

You can read about this particular bird here.

Cops: feel the love

2006-07-12T21:28:00.000-07:00

My prior post about Blue Like Jazz touched on how the author had used love as a commodity--giving it out if others proved themselves deserving, withholding it otherwise (and even attempt to change others by communicating disapproval, etc). He was transformed when he shifted to just loving people. When he observed his friend changing in this new loving atmosphere, he didn't care--his friend's change was not his responsibility to watch and determine.

Last night after midnight, I went for a walk. I'd just had a great discussion with my sister Joanne and her husband Scott, being reminded of some spiritual truths that I wanted to solidify in my heart and mind. I went for a walk at the high school around the corner, a place I've oft used for walks.

On my way back across the big school parking lot, I noticed a car crawling along, headlights off. Cops. I continued my slow pace out of the parking lot and was nearly to the sidewalk when I heard one call out to me. He asked me to come back, asked me what I was up to. I was part way back when I gently commented that "I just had a conversation with my sister and her husband and was praying about stuff." "Can you stop right there, sir?" I'd reached some magical point that was still fairly far from them but clearly too close for whatever kind of person I was. That was the first point of feeling that cloud of suspicion.

"So, you were out praying?" "Yeah." I started to slip my hands in my pockets out of habit, and he said, "Sir, could you please keep your hands out of your pockets?" More of the cloud.

"Can I see your id?" I got out my driver's license, and one cop took that back to the car, watchful. More cloud. The other asked if I had any drugs, weapons. So, the basic check-him-out discussion. "Could you please sit right there?" I sat down on the curb. I heard the cop over by the squad car saying my name into the radio mic. (Ever tighten up when you're cruising safely down the road and the notice a cop right behind you? You know you didn't do anything wrong, but you wonder if they're just going to find something wrong.)

The cop remaining nearby looked like a pleasant guy. I knew I didn't have anything to worry about. Why not strike up conversation? I asked how tonight rated--busy or uneventful? We talked about the schools they check out; we talked about the location of the schools, about whether he grew up in the area. So, I filled the time with a little chatter. Eventually, the other cop approached again. "Do I win any prizes?" I called out with a silly smile. "Am I a legal resident?" Yeah, I was fine. He offered a courteous, "Sorry about the inconvenience" and a thanks, and I was on my way. They were decent guys, mind you, and they were doing their job with care. I have respect for them, for their service. I'm glad they checked me out as part of keeping our area safe. I thanked God for them, in that regard.

Love isn't what the cops are there for. Their message wasn't "We like you; pardon us while we go through the motions to clear up a question in our mind." No, they approached me with suspicion. I was on school property, wearing a black leather coat and sporting a goatee. Trouble comes in packages that look more pleasant than me. They keep an eye out for things that look questionable. They have their approach for confirming trouble. It's their job to investigate. So, I got to "go along for the ride" and deal with the questioning, the check-me-out. I couldn't help but notice the atmosphere of "You are trouble until we say otherwise."

A simple reminder of how others feel when I displace love with distrust and judgement.

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up. Love cares more for others than for self. Love doesn't want what it doesn't have. Love doesn't strut, doesn't have a swelled head, doesn't force itself on others, isn't always "me first," doesn't fly off the handle, doesn't keep score of the sins of others, doesn't revel when others grovel, takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, puts up with anything, trusts God always, always looks for the best, never looks back, but keeps going to the end.

Tall order. Do others feel free to put their hands in their pockets when I'm around?

Blue Like Jazz

2006-06-20T00:54:00.000-07:00

Search for best price for Blue Like Jazz--Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality --Don Miller

I wasn't looking for a book to read. Books take time to read, ya know? This one snuck up on me and grabbed me. In the last three days alone, I've read good portions to several different people, just to give them a taste of what's in this book. And several asked me to read another chapter.

Over a month ago, I was visiting my sister Jan in Oregon. She mentioned how much her 20-something sons were enjoying this unusually-named book. I admire them; I was curious to know what caught their interest.

I scanned the table of contents to get a sense of the nature and style of the book. "Faith: Penguin Sex," "Church: How I go without getting angry," "Alone: 53 Years in Space." I saw "Love: How to Really Love Other People" and started into it.

When my friend Paul and I lived in the woods, we lived with hippies. Well, sort of hippies. They certainly smoked a lot of pot. They drank a lot of beer. And man did they love each other, sometimes too much, perhaps, too physically, you know, but nonetheless they loved; they accepted and cherished everybody, even the ones who judged them because they were hippies. It was odd living with the hippies at first, but I enjoyed it after a while.

They were not "live off the land and other people" hippies They were formally educated, most of them from NYU, getting their masters in literature, headed off to law school, that sort of thing. We would sit around and talk about literature and each other, and I couldn't tell the difference between the books they were talking about and their lives, they were just that cool. I liked them very much because they were interested in me. When I was with the hippies, I did not feel judged. I felt loved. To them I was an endless well of stories and perspectives and grand literary views. It felt so wonderful to be in their presence, like I was special.

I have never experienced a group of people who loved each other more than my hippies in the woods. I pull them out of my memory when I need to be reminded about goodness, about purity and kindness...

So much of what I know about getting along with people I learned from the hippies. They were magical in community. People were drawn to them. They asked me what I loved, what I hated, how I felt about this and that, what sort of music made me angry or sad. They loved me like a good novel, like an art film, and this is how I felt when I was with them. I was never conscious what my hands were doing or whether or not I sounded immature when I talked. I had always been so conscious of those things, but living with the hippies I forgot about myself. And when I lost this self-consciousness, I gained so much more. I gained an interest in people outside my own skin...

Because I grew up in the safe cocoon of big-Christianity, I came to believe that anything outside the church was filled with darkness and unlove. I remember, one Sunday evening, sitting in the pew as a child listening to the pastor read from articles in the newspaper. He took an entire hour to flip through the paper reading about all the gory murders and rapes and burglaries, and after each article, he would sigh and say, Friends, it is a bad, bad world out there. And things are only getting worse. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined there were, outside the church, people so purely lovely as the ones I met in the woods. And yet my hippie friends were not at all close to believing that Christ was the Son of God.

I was amazed to find, outside the church, genuine affection being shared, affection that seemed, well, authentic in comparison to the sort of love I had known within the church. I was even more amazed when I realized I preferred, in fact, the company of the hippies to the company of Christians. It isn't that I didn't love my Christian friends or that they didn't love me, it was just that there was something different about my hippie friends; something, I don't know, more real, more true. I could be myself around them, and I could not be myself with my Christian friends. My Christian communities had always had little unwritten social ethics like don't cuss and don't support Democrats and don't ask tough questions about the Bible... I was tired of biblical ethic being used as a tool with which to judge people rather than heal them. I was tired of Christian leaders using biblical principles to protect their power, to draw a line in the sand separating the good army from the bad one. The truth is I had met the enemy in the woods and discovered they were not the enemy...

With all of Christian talk about pure love, in the end it shook down to conditional love. Again, this is a provocative statement, but I want to walk you through the emotional process I went through.

How do I find a place to stop? Each chapter is rich with his self-disclosure, his sharing of his journey in learning about God, about belief, about social justice, about change. He readily talks about things that many of us have probably thought about yet wouldn't readily admit to others. He talks about reality in a way that many churches do not--and probably should. He shares from his own experience in a way that let's the reader know he's not better than us. In so doing, he creates a safe place; I am drawn in to be with him without my being pushed or coerced, and at the same time, core truth is finding its way in through the cracks in the hard places of my heart. And that's rich.

I'm wrestling to find an analogy. There are really big churches with lots of lively music, fancy preaching, people dressed all nice. Many people don't want to even go in the front door, despite their interest in pursuing truth. I'd say that this author is one of those people who quickly becomes a friend and says let's go hang out at Starbucks and talk. Life-stuff will no doubt come up because it's all safe. And real truths, ones which might be hard to identify or isolate in the distractions of the big church, will come out in ways that are relevant, pertinent, honest, loving and funny. That's the main point I wanted to make in this post, that this book is easy and fun reading--and gets profound concepts into even my head with what feels like little effort.

Okay, with my main point out of the way, I'll share more of the same chapter. The author talked about more things he encountered and wrestled with in the next few years. Soon, he shifted.

It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll. This is how God does things. My realization came while attending an alumni social.

There, a professor spoke about metaphors. The audience came to understand how we oft use "battle" metaphors when referring to cancer (fight, rebuild, etc.). We use "economic" metaphors when describing relationships (value, invest, bankrupt, priceless, etc.)

And that's when it hit me... The problem with Christian culture is we think of love as a commodity. We use it like money... This was the thing that smelled so rotten all these years. I used love like money. The church used love like money. With love, we withheld affirmation from the people who did not agree with us, but we lavishly financed the ones who did... But it is not a commodity. When we barter with it, we all lose. When the church does not love its enemies, it fuels their rage. It makes them hate us more.

There was this guy in my life at the time, a guy I went to church with whom I honestly didn't like. I thought he was sarcastic and lazy and manipulative, and he ate with his mouth open so that food almost fell from his chin when he talked. He began and ended every sentence with the word dude...

He began to get under my skin. I wanted him to change. I wanted him to read a book, memorize a poem, or explore morality, at least as an intellectual concept. I didn't know how to communicate to him that he needed to change, so I displayed it on my face. I rolled my eyes. I gave him dirty looks. I thought somehow he would sense my disapproval and change his life in order to gain my favor. In short, I withheld love.

After the lecture on metaphors, I knew what I was doing was wrong. It was selfish, and what's more, it would never work. By withholding love from my friend, he became defensive, he didn't like me, he thought I was judgmental, snobbish, proud, and mean. Rather than being drawn to me, wanting to change, he was repulsed. I was guilty of using love like money, withholding it to get somebody to be who I wanted them to be.

He then talked about what he did to change his thinking, his heart, his actions. And after that, he talked about what happened.

Things were different, but the difference wasn't with my friend, the difference was with me. I was happy... I discovered he was very funny. I mean, really hilarious. I kept telling him how funny he was. And he was smart. Quite brilliant, really. I couldn't believe that I had never seen it before. I felt as though I had lost an enemy and gained a brother. And then he began to change. It didn't matter to me whether he did or not, but he did. He began to get a little more serious about God. He was a great human being getting even better.

And the insights continued in that chapter.

I was hooked, reading that "first" chapter at Jan's, chapter 18. Soon I finished chapter 19. A few weeks later, my own copy arrived in the mail from Jan. (Thanks, Jan :) )

And so it goes with each chapter. How the literature concepts of setting, conflict, climax and resolution opened his eyes to how Christian spirituality met the requirements of the heart and matched the facts of reality. How a documentary on penguins helped him grasp the faith in Jesus he was experiencing. How his internal reaction to a poor woman in line at the grocery store set in motion the breaking down of that which blocked him from accepting God's grace.

I'm only halfway through the book. I continue to be challenged to consider who I am, face who I am--and get a better grasp on key spiritual truths. I'm looking forward to the rest.

What next, Papa?

2006-05-15T00:42:00.000-07:00

How cool is this...

You may recall from my posting on Why I started calling Dad "Papa" that I sought to turn the "Abba" portion of Romans 8:15-16 into something personally meaningful. I settled on "Papa."

The verses read like this: "For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, 'Abba, Father.' The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children."

I visited my sister Jan in Oregon a few weekends ago. She has long recognized where I'm missing the boat in my trust of God; she was once there herself and is now so far from it--so deeply trusting in God, even as her strength rises and falls while dealing with cancer and chemo. She printed out all of Romans 8 for me in two translations: New International Version and The Message. (What a fascinating presentation of the concepts in this second version of that passage...read it, would you?)

With all that background, we arrive at what stunned me. Look how The Message translated the Abba verse: "This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike 'What's next, Papa?' God's Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children."

What a response to my squirmy, discontent, fearful pleas in my No trust post. What a beautiful opportunity for me to view life with such a perspective of trust: "What next, Papa?"

No trust

2006-05-08T23:36:00.000-07:00

Something happened at work that, as innocuous as it was, led to my feeling so completely disheartened. It added to my perception of diminished work opportunity, of questions about how relationships might be strained. My emotions careened to anger, hopelessness, apathy. A kind coworker asked how I was doing. I offered a few responses and then slipped out to stare at the fountain from a bench and mull over seasons of challenges and pains.

Then I had an "aha" moment. "Trust" came to mind, and several areas of my life flashed through my mind. I could vaguely make out the strong connection between my ongoing pains and areas in which I am just not trusting God. Distrust of God is one of those things that has pride as its root. Pride, pride, pride. So this was one of the forms pride had taken hold in my life, a form I'd embraced. I've struggled for so long to repair things in my life that I deem broken, to wrestle them back to some form that I think will make life more pleasant for me. That has most certainly not worked out to be true.

Ya know, I'm inclined to think that I know how things should be, that successes or joys I once experienced or wish for now should play out as I might hope for--as if I know what's best, as if what I see as a better way for things to go is the way things should go.

And so I trust in myself and displace God. Several key losses in my life in the last couple of years... Some devestating stuff for me. How ugly this world has become to me at times. I wonder, Are these the words of one still grieving, or have I nurtured a root of bitterness, built a wall of distrust of God? What is the path out of this darkness, and why have I felt so utterly alone and abandoned, perhaps even especially when I am even seeking and asking for the path out?

This was a day of feeling at the ends of yet more ropes I'm hanging onto...and suspecting I need to let go of them all, and that's a miserable thought, too, when I don't have any light to reveal what kind of safety net there might be.

But that's not how it works, huh. Abraham and Isaac...an inspiring story when things are going better. Abraham has this greatness of faith to go along with a God who has told him to sacrifice his beloved son. Yet when I'm faced with my own crisis and struggling, how incapable I feel! I'm supposed to have faith to let go of my dreams, my ideas of what will satisfy me?

The aloneness can be intensified if I see others seeming to have great ease in their walk through life, especially when even my greatest, heartfelt attempts at faith result in nothing, it seems.

That's how gloomy distrust can look. This blog is both an admission of failure (distrusting) and a glimmer of hope that this Aha moment might turn into action on my part, action that God likes: trust that he is who he says he is, trust that he can do what he says he can do, trust that I am who he says I am, trust that I can do all things through Christ, whose strength I need.

A sharing of experiences

2006-04-16T16:02:00.000-07:00

What an interesting journey this morning in church. A gentleman shared his story and, as much as he positioned his story or himself as being of little value, I thought God put him there just to talk to me and provide comfort in my seeing that I wasn't alone. If everyone else had been completely disinterested, that wouldn't have mattered to me: I needed that time. Afterward, it was clear from the tear-puffed eyes in the room and the line of people who talked with him at length and held him in embrace at length that many people had a similar story and benefitted from someone else standing up and saying "here's where I'm at, and God knows and cares."

The subtitle of this blog (see the veeery top) is "A sharing of experiences." While the header text might come across as "I have encouragement to offer," it's really something different I have in mind: a "letting down of my hair" in case that is of help to someone else out there who stumbles upon these writings. And yet I'd strayed from that. The blog entry following this is about singleness. I had deleted it the other day because it just seemed too depressing or personal. Some may think it wasteful for me to discuss my weaknesses; they may think I only hurt my reputation or future opportunity by presenting anything other than strength and joy.

But then I heard this gentleman today and I was reminded of why I started this big blog. I remembered that, in sharing, maybe we soon find support. Or maybe others realize we're safe, that we're not someone claiming to have it all together; and they might uncork in that safety to share their hidden burden. That comfort can pave the way for God's provision to get through, for each of us to let go, once again, and trust that God knows what is best for us and will care for us.

Isn't opening up difficult? But isn't opening up a blessing when we find an ear that understands--someone to share the load of our burden, even if the burden doesn't go away? I am so glad when I hear of another widow talking to my Mom about their losses. "You understand" is the underlying connection and strength in the sharing. They're not as alone.

To the gentleman at church who was open, though he felt like nothing: Thank you. You are not alone. And you helped me remember that I am not alone.

It is not good for man to be alone

2006-04-10T15:36:00.000-07:00

A month or so ago, I heard someone point out that this "not good" comment of God's came on the heels of a string of "it is good" comments.

Some of you understand my response as a single: "Hey, I'm well aware of the pains of being single. This doesn't help. Don't rub it in."

But I had also been reminded recently that God knows what he's doing, that God works out everything for my good (whether it's something I'll have a clue about in this lifetime or not).

I've got to believe, then, that that means that there is a greater good in God's plan of my still being single and wrestling with what I wrestle with. The "curse of the 'not good' comment" is outweighed by the good of God's love and wisdom of what he is working out in me, whether for my sake or others' or both.

The person who started this topic also talked about Adolph Coors, Jr. (yep, the beer connection) whose father was murdered. Jr. talks now about how that horrible event was something God used in Jr.'s life to address his hard heart of unforgiveness.

With significant resistance but knowing it's best, I've got to say, "Ok, God, keep it up. You know what you're doing. And you love me."

I say, God says

2006-03-27T11:44:00.000-08:00

From an email being circulated...

It's impossible...

All things are possible. Love, God

He replied, "What is impossible from a human perspective is possible with God."
Luke 18:27

I'm too tired...

I will give you rest. Love, God

Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28-30

Nobody really loves me...

I love you. Love, God

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life
John 3:16

I can't go on...

My grace is sufficient. Love, God

Each time he said, "My gracious favor is all you need. My power works best in your weakness." So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may work through me.
II Corinthians 12:9

When they call on me, I will answer; I will be with them in trouble. I will rescue them and honor them.
Psalm 91:15

I can't figure things out...

I will direct your steps. Love, God

Trust in the LORD with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will direct your paths.
Proverbs 3:5-6

I can't do it...

You can do all things. Love, God

For I can do everything with the help of Christ who gives me the strength I need.
Philippians 4:13

I'm not able...

I am able. Love, God

And God will generously provide all you need. Then you will always have everything you need and plenty left over to share with others.
II Corinthians 9:8

It's not worth it...

It will be worth it. Love, God

And we know that God causes everything to work together[a] for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.
Roman 8:28

I can't forgive myself...

I forgive you. Love, God

But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from every wrong.
I John 1:9

So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.
Romans 8:1

I can't manage...

I will supply all your needs. Love, God

And this same God who takes care of me will supply all your needs from his glorious riches, which have been given to us in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:19

I'm afraid...

I have not given you a spirit of fear. Love, God

For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.
II Timothy 1:7

I'm always worried and frustrated...

Cast all your cares on ME. Love, God

Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about what happens to you.
I Peter 5:7

I'm not smart enough...

I give you wisdom. Love, God

God alone made it possible for you to be in Christ Jesus. For our benefit God made Christ to be wisdom itself. He is the one who made us acceptable to God. He made us pure and holy, and he gave himself to purchase our freedom.
I Corinthians 1:30

I feel all alone...

I will never leave you or forsake you. Love, God

Be satisfied with what you have. For God has said, "I will never fail you. I will never forsake you."
Hebrews 13:5

You are who you say you are.
I am who you say I am.
You can do what you say you can do.
I can do all things through Christ.
Your word is alive and active in me.

~ Beth Moore

Spendthrift son

2006-03-19T14:50:00.000-08:00

The story of the prodigal son appears to be about a son obtaining his inheritance early, somehow, and then wasting it quickly and unwisely. Destitute, he returns to his father to ask for a servant's job and is welcomed as family.

At first glance, I don't find "disobedience" in this story. I see a son taking off and wasting his life. I don't see it as something the son did directly against his father, like his father laying out some rules and the son breaking those rules. There is a lot of waste and pursuit of personal pleasure. I can see how the son's choices probably conflicted with all the wisdom his father tried to instill in him. But what if the son had taken the inheritance and worked it up into a larger set of assets? Would that eliminate the need for this story?

When he returned to his father to beg for help and ask for a role as a servant, he didn't have any successes to report; he could offer no indications of changes in his life that had put him on the right path again. (If he was just looking for a job, I suppose he could've gone to anyone and begged for a role as servant. Perhaps he had a bit of hope in approaching his father, banking on his father caving under a bit of compassion.) That kind of thinking can get in the way of my approaching God...wanting to have some progress to show before I can talk to him.

His father interrupts this thought process, this incorrect thinking of "master/servant" relationship by rushing out and embracing the son and reinforcing that he's still family.

This is a story of parent/child relationship, not master/servant (and Jesus did tell other stories that were clearly about servant/master relationships). I wonder if the original problem was with the spendthrift son wanting to leave the father, wanting to break out on his own and abandon the family connection. The presence of another son (with his own problems) and the father's delight in welcoming back the prodigal son does suggest to me that the original intent was for the (extended) family to remain together, for the son to have never left.

This story came to mind last week in my distance from God as I reflected on my disobedience. In my low state, the phrase "I'm your son" leaked out of my mouth. It wasn't something I said to remind or appeal to God, as if to incur his compassion. It was a reminder to myself, as if God had just asked, "Who are you, again?" waiting for me to remember that I'm his son, to see myself as he does. He didn't want me to run off and disconnect from him (irregardless of whether I work up my assets to my success or end up in poverty). Then and now, I'm his son, and he wants me to remember that.

The mysterious "delight" word

2006-02-25T19:02:00.000-08:00

"Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart." (Psalms 37:4) This verse is alluring. "He will give you the desires of your heart." It sounds like a "your dreams will come true" line and "someone's going to give you what you want." Who wouldn't want that, if that were the case?

Some have said that "give" doesn't mean "pass on a nice gift" but rather "make a change in you" ("impart" or "assign") as in "give you a new hair color": "give you the kinds of internal desires/attitudes you should have, such as patience and kindness."

Ignoring for the moment what "give" means, it seems clear enough that the thing that causes the giving to happen is delighting yourself in the Lord. So, one of the many things to try to figure out in this verse is what "delight" means. My first inclination is to think it means something like "work harder at serving God in some way." But now I don't think it means that. And if I can grasp its real meaning, if, as a friend says, the concept can make the 18 inch drop (from head to heart), I believe my life would improve tremendously.

A few months ago, I heard a sermon. The preacher used this verse as the basis of his entire discussion. Hey, the points he made were inspiring, and I'm sure they are supported by verses elsewhere in the bible, but when he gave the definition of delight and said it came from a particular Hebrew word, that didn't sound right to me. I had looked up that word 15 years ago and had a different impression about the word. Wanting to revisit the original Hebrew words in that verse is what drove me to find and dig into the online reference (and I wrote the first blog entry so that others could do the same).

I remember being taught some questions to ask myself if I'm trying to draw conclusions from bible verses (e.g. if teaching others): Is whatever I wish to identify as a key point true (that's usually the easiest one)? Is it timelessly true (that can be tougher; the point cannot conflict with other parts of the bible; it's worth considering whether it is cross-cultural, too)? Is it from this passage (is that what this passage is about, or does particular wording tempt you to make a point out of context)?

Having had that stressed in my own training, I perk up when a preacher claims some concept is from the verse and I doesn't feel to me like it's really from that verse. Hey, it might be that their point is true and just not from this passage, but I think they should be clear about that. Otherwise, I think it is bad for the listeners for a few reasons: it might encourage them to interpret verses in whatever way suits them best; it might make them think that the teacher has some special ability to extract information from the verse that the rest of us don't naturally see there. I appreciate that I was taught to be thorough and self-checking before passing it on. I was encouraged to be sure that what I'm leaning on as truth really comes from scripture.

The Hebrew word the preacher cites is definitely used in the bible, but it wasn't the Hebrew word used by this verse. The word here is used only 10 times in the bible. The online references gave these definitions: luxurious, delicate, feminine, to be of dainty habit, be pampered, to be happy about, take exquisite delight, to make merry over, make sport of. I can fit "be happy about" in the verse, but what am I to make of "delicate" and "dainty"? There is something I need to understand there, for the author chose that Hebrew word instead of some other Hebrew word that could also be translated as "delight." (I haven't figured that part out yet.)

Here are the 10 phrases in the bible in which the Hebrew word is used: delicate woman; delicateness; delight in the Almighty; delight himself in the Almighty; delight yourself in the Lord (this verse); delight themselves in the abundance of peace; soul delight itself in fatness; against whom do you sport yourselves; delight yourself in the Lord; delighted with the abundance of her glory; delicate woman.

Of the places this word is translated "delight," most are about the Lord, which doesn't help me figure out its meaning. But the other uses of "delight" add some breadth to it, particularly the one that appears 7 verses later in Psalm 37: "But the meek shall inherit the earth and shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace."

I mentioned earlier that my first inclination is to think that "delight" means "work harder at serving God in some way"...."Serve God better and he'll give you the desires of your heart." If I try to work that "serve" definition into the "peace" verse, it clearly doesn't work: "they shall serve the abundance of peace."

That "peace" verse helps me see how delight is being used here. Think of how nice it is when calm returns, when you've had a good night's sleep, when health and strength return, when a storm passes, when you resolve conflict with a loved one. Peace is nice. Abundant peace would be amazing. People could really relax and be happy. That would be a surprising thing, an amazing thing. Observing and grasping the abundance of peace could make a person feel really good. They wouldn't have to work for peace; they could just observe it and enjoy it. It would be a response to a great thing.

That works. I can grasp that "delight" in both the "peace" verse and the "Lord Almighty" verses is about having a happy response, not a "go do it" action. So, does verse 4 mean, "Respond to the surprising, amazing goodness of the Lord..."? I think so. Plenty of people have stories to share that underscore this. Their lives have been transformed because they "get it."

My sister Jan is an example. Cancer has trashed her body, yet she has nothing but delight for God now and welcomes cancer as God's wake up call for her. Read her story here.

For the rest of us, perhaps the exercise continues in our understanding this verse. "What is it about the Lord that, if I observe it, comprehend it, would surprise me and amaze me and bring about an internal response, just like someone delighting in there being peace?"

Growth curve

2006-02-25T18:55:00.000-08:00

Mom attended Jay Gould's memorial this afternoon. A character quality that stood out was his patience.

One of his children recalled how, when driving was pretty new to them, they drove around the corner and into their driveway a bit too fast and ran into the corner of the garage.

Jay came out and said, "So, what did you learn?"

Wow. What a response.

When it is stormy

2006-02-23T15:24:00.000-08:00

A few years ago, I read about an art contest in which people were to paint on the theme of peace.

The majority of the paintings were what we'd expect: a restful setting in nature; a child resting in its mothers arms; Jesus in some setting.

The setting of the painting that won was a dark forest during an intense storm. Not immediately visible was a mother bird with body and wings protecting chicks who were fast asleep.

I want to be at rest like that.

Focal point

2006-02-22T00:37:00.000-08:00

After I posted my Papa story, a friend asked for further insight. As I thought, many ideas collided in my head, all demanding attention. Some of my ideas were pretty clever, I thought, but I'd soon doubt those and add on other ideas. A lot of speculation on my part.

Quickly this became one of those times when I got stirred up about having questions and about not having answers. I went for a walk to think, pray, readjust.

The biblical story of Job came to mind. He apparently was in need of correction in the area of questioning God. He lost family, possessions, health...and, in his misery, was shadowed by some aquaintances who spoke volumes about their understanding of things, no doubt adding to his own list of questions. Eventually, God speaks up. While Job might've wished for answers, he instead was delivered a long list of rhetorical questions that, as I see it, could be summarized as, "Why do you think you understand anything, and who are you to expect answers? I'm God, and from the list of details I've laid out, I've given just a glimpse about how amazing I am and how tiny you are." (I wonder how long Job was silent after that. Was he crushed and needed healing? Or did he rebound quickly because he'd just had meaningful direct communication with God.)

A week ago, I read an article that touched on some of these same thoughts. (I've been meaning to write about it. This current event was a good springboard for me to get on with the writing task.) The article was written by a monk dude from the 16th century, now referred to as "John of the Cross." I had been reading a collection of Christian writings dating from the 4th century to the 20th century. I had just skipped one article because it rubbed me the wrong way due to it totally NOT synching with where I was at in my mental and emotional wrestling. And then I hit this article by John of the Cross. It quickly penetrated me; the author touched on where I was at or had been at. And rather than get messages of "hang in there, things will get better," I received "answerless" messages more along the line of what Job got.

I searched on the internet for the monk dude's text. In my exploring, I came to learn that that there was a huge text text called Dark Night of the Soul by John of the Cross. The original, in 16th century English, is basically unreadable for my brain. Aha--the nice version that I had first come across was some kind soul's Reader's Digest-like distillation of some gems from the bigger volume. Ah, so nice that someone rewrote it for today's audience to absorb. (If you are interested, here is a copy of that rewrite.

I watched a show on TV about two people challenged to take dogs from the pound and turn them into highly effective working dogs. They were pretty successful. I thought to myself, "Maybe that's what I need: a God-designed job that will give me the chance to pass on what I know, or something like that."

"They become content with their growth. They would prefer to teach rather than to be taught... The devil knows that all of their works and virtues will become valueless and, if unchecked, will become vices. For they begin to do these spiritual exercises to be esteemed by others. They want others to realize how spiritual they are. They will also begin to fear confession to another for it would ruin their image. So they soften their sins when they make confession in order to make them appear less imperfect."

I screw up. I make mistakes. I do wrong things. I annoy people. If only God would flip some switches so I weren't so annoying and didn't have so many faults. It would be so much better for others if I were a great person.

"They will beg God to take away their imperfections. but they do this only because they want to find inner peace and not for God?s sake. They do not realize that if God were to take away their imperfections from them, they would probably become prouder and more presumptuous still."

I can swing from the apathetic end of the spectrum to the end of stressing to do better. "Something's got to work!"

"They will become discontented with what God gives them because they do not experience the consolation they think they deserve. They begin reading many books and performing many acts of piety in an attempt to gain more and more spiritual consolation."

I'll carry my discontent into church... the music's too loud; it's too repetitive; people in the audience aren't responding; people are a little too enthusiastic; "it must not be the right music."

"Their hearts grow attached to the feelings they get from their devotional life. They focus on the affect, and not on the substance of devotion. Quite often these souls will attach themselves to particular religious objects or holy places and begin to value visible things too highly."

How long will this drag on? What am I missing? Why am I apparently so dull as to not finish whatever lesson I should've finished long ago?

"There are some who become angry with themselves at this point, thinking that their loss of joy is a result of something they have done or have neglected to do. They will strive to become saints in a day. They will make all kinds of resolutions to be more spiritual, but the greater the resolution, the greater is the fall. Their problem is that they lack the patience that waits for whatever God would give them and when God chooses to give them.
They are not walking in true obedience, but rather, are doing what they want in the time and measure that they have chosen. They do these things not for God but for themselves, and for this reason they will soon grow weary in them."

And what about my skill in piano playing? Sometimes I am asked when I will play piano again in church. Yeah, I say to myself, why aren't I playing anymore? Why did the invitations stop? If only they'd let me play, we'd see a decrease in the negatives now experienced with the church's music. My talent is going to waste! What good is that??

"Their chief concern is to be praised themselves. They are not pleased that such attention is being given to someone else and would prefer to be thought of as the most spiritual of all. This is contrary to love, which, as Paul says, rejoices in goodness.

Spiritual sloth happens when the pleasure is removed from the spiritual life. Such souls become weary with spiritual exercises because they do not yield any consolation, and thus, they abandon them. They become angry because they are called to do that which does not fit their needs. They begin to lose interest in God for they measure God by themselves and not themselves by God. Such souls are too weak to bear the crosses that are given to us to help us grow."

Papa Father, you've caught me. I'm laid bare. Thanks for leading me also to the article by David Kyle Foster where he faced his own self-focused attitudes:

"Finally, in the silence one evening, God spoke clearly to me that He was teaching me to believe in His love, acceptance and protection even when I could not feel the spiritual feelings that had previously been my confirmation of those things.

"So I made an attempt to embrace that lesson and, once learned, return to the intimate exchange of feeling and emotion that had previously existed in such awesome sweetness.

"It did not come.

"Then I got angry. Why are you playing such games with me God? Do you get your kicks from holding back such a priceless thing as intimacy from me to tease me? It makes me feel like a dumb ass who continually falls for the carrot on a stick trick. It makes me feel so controlled, so dependent, so much like the creature that, well, I guess I am. It was an anger born from the realization that I was not the God of the universe and that I could not command answers or action from God as though I were. It was the unveiling of yet another level of pride.

"How can I worship when there is no response? How can I pray or read Scripture when there's no evidence of your presence or that you even care?

"I realized that the arrested devotional life that I had been experiencing had been partially related to a world-view that viewed self as the focus of intimacy with God. Thus, without tangible affirmation by God that He was participating in our relationship, I adopted the tragic figure of abandoned one, freezing in place and stamping my feet in protest. I did not go out and sin in protest, because I wanted God to be the guilty party in this crisis!

"'We should not judge the value of our meditation by how we feel.' God is never closer than when He seems the most absent. We must believe that. We must move forward in serving Him, in declaring His praise, in telling our stories of His love and grace whether we receive immediate tangible reward or not. Why? Because He is worthy.

"Dark night or party time, decide now that you are going to stand firm in the truth. feast or famine, hell or high water, Jesus Christ remains the way, the truth and the life. He is all that matters. His calling, His life, His healing power, His riches in glory, His love and grace are yours now and forevermore!"

Papa Father, may my soul remain quieted. May I remember that I'm talking to the God of the universe and simply delight in your love for me, even if this worlds' stressors and the annoyances of this earth suit of mine never cut me a break.

"God must take away the consolation to purify the soul from these imperfections. Those who are moving in God's way will counter this pride with humility. They will learn to think very little of themselves and their religious works. Instead, they will focus on how great and how deserving God is and how little it is that they can do for him. A soul will never grow until it is able to let go of the tight grasp it has on God. They must learn spiritual meekness which will come about in the dark night.

"Let it suffice to say, then, that God perceives the imperfections within us, and because of his love for us, urges us to grow up. His love is not content to leave us in our weakness, and for this reason he takes us into a dark night. He weans us from all of the pleasures by giving us dry times and inward darkness.
In doing so he is able to take away all these vices and create virtues within us. Through the dark night pride becomes humility, greed becomes simplicity, wrath becomes contentment, luxury becomes peace, gluttony becomes moderation, envy becomes joy, and sloth becomes strength. No soul will ever grow deep in the spiritual life unless God works passively in that soul by means of the dark night.

Thanks for loving me.

It was good to remember

2006-02-22T00:35:00.000-08:00

It was helpful to have written that prior post. When I was laying in bed, mind swirling on topics from the day, I found peace in quieting my soul and picturing Papa Father and saying to him (to agree with him for my benefit), "You love me!"

Why I started calling Dad "Papa"

2006-02-21T00:22:00.000-08:00

Most of my life, I called my father Dad. In the last few years, there were times I'd call him Papa.

A writer in the bible said something like, "you received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry 'Abba, Father.'" I've been told that "Abba" was a tender term used by children of their father, like my saying "Daddy."

I'm one of those people who has had a hard time comprehending God's love, despite how much I know from scripture. For whatever reason, I'm more likely to be fearful, and my natural tendency is to picture God as standoffish and strict. (It has been noted by many that our perception of God is highly influenced by our perception of our own fathers. Yeah, I can see how my perceptions of my father in my youth would fit that.) Because of this, I am inclined to address God as just "God" (rather fatherless) and it feels a bit unnatural to address him as "Father." (If you don't have that problem and can't understand why I have that problem, lucky you :) )

I recognize that my perception problem is exactly that: my problem. As long as I keep imposing my view of God on God, I'll maintain my incorrect view. I need to work at aligning my perception with reality--and oh how I wish that weren't such an effort.

Several years ago, a man whose father had abused him as a child talked about his own breakthrough, about what helped him shift from viewing God as remote and uncaring to seeing God as loving and caring for him: he pictured God being there while his father abused him and pictured God weeping in compassion/sorrow for him in his terrible situation. For him, that was the beginning of his emotionally perceiving and grasping God's deep love for him. I think there was more to his transformation, but a point I picked up was that his freedom began with applying a good picture and emotions that represented reality and helped displace his incorrect child-based thinking and emotions. (He offered advice to anyone in a similar predicament: as you are out and about, if you happen to see some parent showing tenderness and love to their kid, pay attention to that, take it in--God loves you in an emotional way, too.)

The bible mentions the "Abba" thing because that's a reality that I should grasp, just like another verse that talks about me being adopted by God as an adult son and not simply being a servant. Father/son. That is hugely different from Creator/created (though that is another reality I must not ignore). Father/son opens up a connection--relationship. "Abba" underscores the intensity of it--the childlike ease of a child addressing his or her Dad.

If my Dad were CEO of some big corporation and everyone else had to schedule appointments with him and have all their PowerPoint slides in order and be on edge about their status, I shouldn't have to worry about that at all. I should be able to show up and know that I can sit sideways in my chair with legs over the armrest and just enjoy chatting with Dad. Is that really what I should be able to do with my creator? I have to believe yes because of verses like the one about "Abba."

I've heard "Abba" used in beautiful songs, said in prayers. But I doubt that most of us, in hearing or speaking or singing such are thinking the real meaning of it, "Daddy." Abba just isn't a normal part of our language and is likely to just become a pretty-sounding word for use in poetry or something. At the same time, I'm not about to say "Daddy" to God. I can't comfortably call God "Daddy, Father"--it just sounds cheap and silly to me. There was a term that sounded possible, though: "Papa." For my ear, my thinking, "Papa" has a tender quality without sounding silly. So, it seemed like the closest equivalent to Abba in my vocabulary.

Not having an immediate sense of God's love, I'll use whatever can help kick me in the right direction. I want to be able to more comfortably think of God as my Abba-Father and less as a remote, uncaring God. I recalled my own father's love for me. I knew with what ease I could chat with him and the times of tenderness we shared. I wanted to have a better image in my mind of the ease I should have in talking with God. (Don't worry, I'm not promoting any notion of limiting my view of God to only those things I found as positive in my Dad.)

So, on occasion, I called Dad "Papa" when talking to him. I got more used to using it with him. I made it a point to reserve it for times of endearment, times when there was more of a degree of connection and closeness in our interaction.

Little did I know that that word would have such value to Dad. He really liked it, I came to find out later. It was also what he called his father. There were a few times in the last days of his life when he was otherwise low in response to me that, when I called him Papa, he'd open his eyes and look at me and smile with delight, a delight in valuing our relationship. And that wasn't reserved for me--I observed that love of his for each of us in the family.

So, I've done it. I have made "Papa" more a part of the comfortable part of my mental vocabulary. Did I "use" my Dad in this? Was he part of my experiment? It does kind of look that way, huh. I knew when starting this blog entry that there was that strangeness to what I did. But I certainly didn't cheapen our relationship. And I see that good came from it for both of us.

After Dad's death, I have tried out "Papa" when talking to God. No, I'm not picturing Dad and promoting him. But I am trying to comprehend Abba, trying to comprehend the kind of relationship God wants to have with me, if I'll just relax, darn it. I am trying to get my brain to comprehend that I really am talking to a God who not only created the universe (and who is worthy, regardless of how I feel physically or emotionally, of my respect, obedience, honor, etc.) but also paid a huge price to make it possible for me to sit sideways in my chair, filthy rags and all, and find delight in my relationship with him. He's my Papa.

Crossing the Great Boa

2006-02-18T21:49:00.000-08:00

Why did I choose "greatboa" as my blog address? Because something about Dad's death last year took on new meaning for me.

A few weeks ago, I went to see "End of the Spear" in the theatre, a movie about a real event from 1956. Five married American couples (some with kids) were in Ecuador, hoping to make contact with violent natives for whom murder of neighboring tribes was the norm. There were no grandparents in that hostile environment: no one lived long enough in that revenge-steeped community.

The Americans' spiritual beliefs compelled them to reach out in love to these warring tribes. After weeks of many drops of supplies from an airplane to build friendship and trust, the five men landed and met the villagers face to face. Shortly after, they were speared to death.

Before seeing the movie, what I knew about the story was pretty much limited to this: five friendly American male missionaries died from the spears of the natives, and then the missionary wives returned and made inroads with the natives.

When Mom learned that this story had been turned into a movie, she told me she had a file folder full of articles about the event. Ever since she heard of it in 1956, she'd kept whatever article she came across, from then till now, on that event and on developments since then, including Life magazine's multipage spread on the event back then. Amazing! We put the collection of 40+ articles on eBay. Two competing bidders turned out to be relatives of the five American men who died in a massacre presented in the film. The winning bidder was one of those relatives. Her father once had a collection of articles but lost them in a tragedy. She had been searching for some time for anyone who had articles...and searched just that week on eBay and found our listing. We were all so delighted to have made that connection. Articles of great meaning to Mom had ended up in the hands of those to whom they also had great value.

The old story I was vaguely familiar with was reason enough for me to go see the movie. The commercials for this movie added an additional lure, that of presenting the story from the vantage point of one of the sons who was going back to the village in the 1990s and would learn "what really happened."

In the movie, one of the natives expressed his struggle with "crossing the Great Boa". The phrase was used frequently in the movie. Sure, there were large boa constrictors in their rivers, but it was clear that "crossing the Great Boa" had some spiritual significance in their culture. Eventually, the native expressed his anguished thoughts to someone: he did not want death and burial to be the end of his life. He wanted to cross the Great Boa. His culture believed in something beyond death. If I understood right, he connected greatness and personal accomplishment (e.g. warrior status, defeat of enemies) with crossing the Great Boa. The parallel in my culture is one being in turmoil over their uncertainty about going to heaven.

Mom was with Dad last year when he died. I was with him the night before. In the days prior, his communication went from weak to nothing as his condition deteriorated from his cancer. (What a weighty loss for all of us to no longer be able to communicate with him. Those of you who have lost a loved one understand, don't you?) In his last days, if his eyes ever opened, they were blank, not focussed.

Just before his death, he bolted awake. Mom watched his eyes became clear and focussed as he looked at a couple different places in the room and quietly said, "amen! amen! amen!" Mom asked him, "What do you see?" (Her own mother, when asked in an alert moment before her death to identify family members in the room, named them all and also included Jesus. When asked again, because of the surprise of that answer, she repeated the same.) Dad never looked at her nor replied. Mom told him it was okay; he could go. A tear rolled out of the corner of his eye. Soon, he died. (The only tears we had seen before that were not of sorrow or even of physical pain. They were only tears resulting from joy welling up within him, simple humble delight in the love of friends who visited him.)

The movie was built around the son of one of the male missionaries who died. We got to see him grow up with the female missionaries who continued on. Then the end of the movie was about the son's return to that land to once again be with the natives he'd grown up with some 50 years earlier.

[Spoiler alert: The next paragraph tells how the movie ends.]

The adult son was talking with the native (long since a friend) who had killed his father long ago. The native wanted to tell the son a secret he had kept to himself, something that happened as the father was dying from this native's spear. Bright light had shined all around and both the native and the father looked up, seeing the heavens open and seeing heavenly beings. The native told the son, "I watched your father cross the Great Boa."

What a thing to observe. Tears rolled down my face in that theatre as my soul was flooded with joy in having a better understanding of what Mom got a glimpse of: Dad crossed the Great Boa.

Nice online Bible research tool -- a mini-tutorial

2006-01-31T23:16:00.000-08:00

Recently, I wanted to learn more about the Hebrew words behind a particular Bible verse I know in English..."what do the words really mean?" Poking on the internet, I found a reference tool. While it's based on the awkwardly-odd-to-our-ears King James translation from centuries ago, I am still impressed enough with how easy it is to access this info--and for free--that I wanted to pass on a little how-to.

Researching a specific word

Go to www.BlueLetterBible.org.
Specify a verse (e.g. Psalms chapter 37 verse 4).
Click the blue C to the left of the verse.
Find the table with English words on the left and numbers down the middle. Click one of the numbers (e.g. 06026 next to Delight).
You can scrutinize the dictionary-like definitions near the top.
Lower, you can see all verses that contain that same word (or, if there are more verses than could fit on the page, you find colored "buttons" lower down, citing ranges of additional verses).
In each of those verses, you see numbers. The number you selected is bold in all of those verses. Is the same word used wherever that bold number appears? If not, do you agree with the English word the translators chose?

Comparing translations

Over time, different groups of translators have taken a stab at converting the non-English languages of the original scriptures into English. Some work hard at picking the most accurate translation, even if that means the result is bumpy and unnatural to read. Others work hard at picking more relaxed and readily-understood expressions that capture the essence of what the original texts said without being exact. For example, if the original text refers to "denari" (a day's wages), is it better to say "he owed a denari" or "he owed $200" or "he owed a day's wages"?

To see how different translators have chosen to translate a verse of interest:

Go to www.BlueLetterBible.org.
Specify a verse (e.g. Psalms chapter 37 verse 4).
Click the blue V to the left of the verse. The resulting rows present (1) an abbreviation of particular translation/version (e.g. NLT, NASB), (2) the verse in that translation and (3) the date of that translation. (Sorry, but I'll steer clear of the Vulgate.)