Christianity

Keep Growing Up

IMG_3904revThe other day, as we were walking through a botanical garden, Eric pointed out a tree to me. This particular tree was about two or three feet in diameter and had obviously had some kind of terrible thing happen to it, for it was uprooted and the roots stuck out of the ground at one end.

But–for whatever reason– it had kept growing. It almost looked like an elbow or a knee joint, with half of the tree lying horizontally on the ground, but the other half somehow making a ninety degree angle and taking an incredible turn upwards towards the sky.

I don’t think either of us have ever seen anything quite like it (see my photo above). And, once again, we are awed by God’s creation and also its adaptability.

It made me think about humans and how adaptable some of us are.  And also about how unadaptable some of us are.

Bad things–hard circumstances–toxic environments–difficult moments happen to us all. None of us are immune. And we have days or months–sometimes years– where we lie there with our roots sticking out all over the place, flat on the ground, catching our breath and trying to heal or maybe just survive.

But we all–just like that tree– should start growing upwards again. We shouldn’t just lie there forever.

Of course, part of that tree will always be lying flat against the ground. It has become part of what it is. It didn’t magically dig its roots back in the soil and lift up its entire trunk upwards. No, instead, very slowly, just a little each year, it started growing upwards.

We need to do that same thing. We can’t eliminate our scars. But we can make sure that we are growing the right direction. It will be a slow process– no doubt about that.

And it is a choice. A choice to think the right thoughts and do the right things. It is a choice to turn away from bitterness and unforgiveness and anger. It is a choice to forgive and to love so that you can start growing in the right direction again. And, most of all, it is the choice to yield our wills and desires to our heavenly Father’s, the One who knows everything.

We will all probably be knocked flat on our back at some time or other. The key is growing back in the right direction.

 

 

The Magic Pants

microfiber

I feel a little silly even writing this post. I know that some of you won’t get it at all. But there may be just a few of you who do. So I am going to share this story.

I made the mistake of wearing my favorite pants the first day of my mission trip. I knew the first half of the day would be spent traversing the hills and rocky pathways of two different ghettos. I wanted to be comfortable. And while I knew we would be doing some painting in the afternoon, I also knew there was also some outdoor work that needed done. I hoped to be assigned to that.

But as we sat at lunch and were assigned our afternoon duties, it became clear that there wasn’t enough work outside for more than one person to be assigned the outdoor duty — and it was going to be a man, not a woman. My heart sank, as I looked at my precious pants.

You may wonder why I was so attached to these pants. Well, for starters, they cost more than I usually spend on any piece of clothing. They were made of microfiber and were super comfortable, while still looking really nice. I was just not quite ready to cover them with paint splatters, rendering them useless for future wear.

I silently berated myself for putting them on in the first place.

As we started on our project– a small dingy kitchen with semi-green walls and lots of spider webs and dirt, I concentrated on clean-up. Maybe I wouldn’t have to paint at all! I felt a little surge of hope.

That hope died, however, as it became clear I would need to help paint. I sighed with resignation and went and got a bowl of white paint and a brush to get started on a door.

As I started moving the brush up and down, I had a little dialogue going with God.

“I really didn’t want to mess up these pants, God.”

“They are just pants.”

“I know, but they are my favorite pants!”

“They are just pants. You can get more.”

“Maybe, but what if I can’t?”

“Look at these people and how they live? Some don’t even have enough to eat! How can you be worried about a pair of pants, when you have so many other pairs at home?”

The conversation went on like this for several minutes. Not that He was actually talking to me, it was just the back and forth going on in my mind between my desires and the TRUTH of the situation.

Until, finally, I surrendered my favorite pants to Him.

And, so, when the first drop of paint spilled on my pants, I took it “like a man”. I may have given a tiny little sigh, but I had already resigned myself to the inevitability of it. I will admit that I did continue to paint very carefully, being cautious not to wipe my hands on my pants. This was a challenge for me, as I am usually a very messy painter.

When I got about three spots on my pants, I decided that it couldn’t hurt to see if I could wipe them off, so the spots would at least be less noticeable. Perhaps I could at least save them enough for wear around home.

Imagine my surprise, when not only did the spots become less noticeable, but disappeared completely! Apparently, the fabric did not soak up the paint, but instead kept it only on the top layer. Whatever the reason, my pants, with the aid of a few wet wipes, were spotless after an afternoon of painting. I was speechless.

I would get to keep my favorite pants, after all! After that initial conversation with God, I had come to a place where I had sacrificed them with a heart of joy and surrender, and God had seen fit to give them back to me.

I don’t know why, but I am thankful to Him for this little way He showed He cares. I know I don’t deserve it.

 

The Beauty of Grace

DSC_0140revWe saw the beautiful cathedral from a distance. It was one of the most beautiful buildings I had ever seen. I was delighted when the bus parked and we could disembark for a look at this amazing piece of architecture up close.

As our team poured from the bus, I noticed many people coming and going from the church. As we walked towards the building, our Costa Rican leader, Raymond, told me a little of its history. Apparently, once each year, there would be a huge celebration in honor of the humble beginnings of the church. He told me that people would come from many miles away, always walking the last mile on their knees. This was part of the ritual expected at this celebration.  In fact, that was part of the tradition of this church at all times — you walked the aisles on your knees.

As if to confirm what he was saying, as we went inside the church, I saw a woman and her small daughter, walking on their knees towards the front of the church.

And I was overwhelmed with gratefulness for God’s grace. I didn’t need to do anything to earn God’s favor. Jesus had taken care of all of that for me. Suddenly, I understood in a new way the inestimable value of this gift.

As we continued on our tour, we walked down a circular walkway to the area where holy water dripped from a pipe or a spring. Around this area many were gathered, anxious to fill a small container of this holy water for healing or special blessing.

And, once again, I was overwhelmed with a grateful heart for God’s grace. I didn’t need any special water for blessing or healing. I knew that God’s Word teaches that we can just go to Him in prayer with our requests and that He hears us (Luke 11:9-13). There was no need for special water, candles lit to saints, or useless prayers said to the human mother of God.

I knew that the beautiful building held within its walls a false religion based on works. A religion where people were chained to works-based righteousness, always hoping that they had done enough good works to earn their way to heaven.

And I was thankful. So thankful. God, in His incredible mercy and grace, had made a way for me — for anyone — to be reconciled to Him. I didn’t deserve it. I knew that. I was the worst of all sinners. I AM the worst of all sinners. And yet, God loved me so much that He offered His Son as a sacrifice for me. As a sacrifice for any who would repent and believe. What amazing grace and love!

And I was dismayed. For there were thousands, if not millions, who still didn’t realize that walking on your knees and praying to humans wasn’t at all necessary to reach heaven (Isaiah 64:6). For Jesus had already paid the price. If we repent and accept this free gift, we are guaranteed a spot in heaven (John 3:16).

Of course, this gift, if we truly understand it, changes and transforms us completely. We are no longer the person we were. Some might perceive us as legalistic or caught up in rules, but we genuine believers know that our choices aren’t based on a set of rules but, instead, out of a heart of love for the precious Savior who gave His life for us (I John 2:3-6, John 14:15, Colossians 3:23-24).

And I understood the beauty of God’s grace in a whole new way. Amazing Grace isn’t just a song. It’s the Truth. And what an incredible Truth it is.

Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost
But now I’m found!
Was blind
But now I see!

 

 

Part 2: Casa de Pan

IMG_3602revThis is part 2 of the amazing story of Casa de Pan, a home we visited in Costa Rica last week. You can read Part 1 here. And now for the rest of the story–

With Raymond functioning as her interpreter, Melba first started to tell us the story of Anita, one of her young daughters, who appeared to have a form of Cerebral Palsy. I found out later that my sister-in-law had asked about her and that was the reason for the special invitation into the house for this specific story. She told us that this nine year old girl had been born a normal little girl. But when she was just a toddler, she had been found with a fractured skull, two broken collar bones, broken legs, and infected cigarette burns all over her body. From that point on, she was never normal again.  It was later discovered that her stepfather had done these horrible things to this tiny girl. Who knows what else this evil man had done to her in her short life? I think I may have listened to the story with my mouth open. I cannot fathom the depth of wickedness within a person to cause them to do such things to an innocent child. It moves far beyond my comprehension. The little girl is not only physically disabled, but mentally disabled, as well. She will forever be a child now…and all because she happened to be the unfortunate recipient of an evil man’s anger or perversion (or maybe both). When they brought her to the home of Victor and Melba, they opened up their arms and took her in. She is one of {I think} three special needs children in their home at this time.

As we continued to talk, she told us a few more tragic stories of the children now safely ensconced in their loving home. As she talked, we could feel her love and care for each child. She went on to tell us that they had six biological children and that 95 adopted children had already grown up in their home. I asked her if she was in touch with each one. She smiled and said “of course,” and then went on to tell of one son who had lost touch for awhile, but had recently been back in touch. The couple keeps the weekends free of any extra visitors and reserves those days just for family. That is when their grown children stop by, many of them now bringing along their own kids.

Finally someone asked how all of this had come about. We listened intently to the fascinating story–

Her fourth child, a girl, was extremely ill. They had made the decision to take her to the hospital, where they had been given the devastating news that she was dying. They visited often and did all they could to make their sweet baby comfortable. In the next bed, a young boy lay dying from cancer. But no one visited him. In fact, they later found out that his family had abandoned him. And so they started showing him some attention, trying to show him that someone cared whether he lived or died.

As the doctor watched the couple’s reactions to the tragic news of their daughter’s impending death, he was amazed at the peace and strength with which they accepted the news. He had never seen anyone react like this. The couple made it clear that God was the source of their strength and they gave Him all of the credit.

As they prepared to take their daughter home to die, the doctor approached them with an unusual request. Would they be willing to take the abandoned boy home with them, as well? There wasn’t really much of a discussion, as they knew they couldn’t let the boy die alone in the hospital and so they bundled the two young children up–a small girl much loved by her biological family and a small boy completely and utterly abandoned by his — and took them both home to die.

But, unbelievably, both children did not die. Instead they grew stronger and stronger, until both were declared well again (in fact, the beautiful lady on the far left of the photo above is this daughter all grown up!)

After that incident (or should I say miracle?), Melba told us of her and Victor’s decision to give all they had and owned to the Lord completely. I am not sure if they knew what that meant at the time, but they were soon to find out.

Unfortunately, we did not have enough time to get all the details of how they went from one to 142 adopted children, but, needless to say, in the last 35 years, they have become a valuable resource for the Costa Rican government. They will often drop their most hopeless cases there. In fact, because they know and trust the couple, they will actually do the paperwork, pay any fees, and hire the lawyer to see the entire adoption process through.

She went on to tell of some of the amazing ways God had provided for them through the years. While she talked, I couldn’t help but stare at the picture of the family hanging on the mantle. My eyes then strayed to their wedding picture on a little round table nearby. They couldn’t have possibly realized that day so long ago just how mightily God would use them in the future — and all because they gave everything to Him.

After hearing her story, I felt so many things.

deeper faith — in hearing how God had cared for this family in so many big and small ways.

thankfulness — for a couple who would give up their own comfort to meet the needs of all of these beautiful children.

shame — for being far too worried about my own comfort and convenience in my own small world.

and thoughtfulness — what would happen if we Americans gave our all, instead of being busy with inconsequential things? How could God use us and the abundant resources we have available to us?

And I knew that I would never be quite the same person after hearing her story. I will always thank the Lord for allowing me to listen in on that testimony of faith and to see an example of how the Lord works when we submit everything to Him.

 

 

Part 1: Casa de Pan

IMG_3633Our week in Costa Rica was almost over. It was Thursday afternoon and we had been to one private children’s home and two public children’s homes already. We were told this one was different. This was a real home owned by a couple who had adopted all 46 of the children living there. My mind tried to comprehend that, but it seemed to be beyond my scope of imagination. 46?!? I was to find out that it was actually many more.

After driving through city streets, seeing hundreds of homes behind iron bars, the bus pulled up to a beautiful, plant-covered wall. As we got out, we saw a big blue gate. As we walked towards the gate, we heard the laughter of children behind the wall and even a couple of dogs barking.IMG_3620

As the blue gate swung open and our team walked up the driveway, I smiled with delight. For here was a beautiful oasis in the city of San Jose. There was a big backyard and in the middle of it stood a huge tree. As we looked up, we saw an immense tree house tucked within its branches. Children of all ages and sizes played happily. The house, white with blue trim, looked warm and welcoming. Up on the roof and at the upstairs open windows were several teenagers watching us.

Our team was there to play with the children for a few hours. After a few minutes, I noticed that a few of the ladies were headed around back. They were headed to the outdoor dining room to use the tables. I hurried to join them. As we walked around the back of the house, I came upon an outdoor room that was obviously the laundry room. This large, long room was probably used daily, evidenced by the little onesies hanging on the line just outside the door and the mounds and mounds of laundry I could see over the wall.

IMG_3588We took a left and walked down a pathway to the outdoor kitchen, located on the right. To my left, I saw a shelf that reached to the ceiling, filled with little shoes. As we walked into the dining room and started coloring, we noticed a couple older teenagers, blonde and blue-eyed, who didn’t look Costa Rican. As I talked to one, I found out that this 17 year old girl from Austria was just finishing up a 3 month term as a volunteer here in the house known as Casa de Pan. 

IMG_3598At one point, I went in search of a bathroom. I found one for our use, in the center of a new building that stood beside the house. The bathroom was finished (I can certainly understand why that would have been a priority), but there was an older gentleman working on finishing the rooms to either side. On my way there, I poked my head in the room and offered a smile and a “Buenas Dias”. The man smiled, offered a firm handshake, and told me his name was Victor. He then pointed to the little boy playing at his feet and told me with a smile that his name was Victor, as well. We talked for a few minutes, using his limited English, my limited Spanish, and a few hand motions, and then I left. At the time, I did not realize that Victor was the heroic head of this wonderful household.

After awhile, I headed to the backyard to join in the fun there. As I snapped a few photos, I drank in the loveliness of the place. Here were 46 children who would not get lost in the system. Here were 46 beautiful souls that had found home. And not just any home, but a home run by parents with faith in Jesus Christ. It was truly amazing. As I contemplated this couple, I will be painfully honest and let you know that I started to feel just a bit shallow in my “work” for the Lord. How much more I could give.

As I was looking around and thinking, my eye caught movement on the front porch. I saw my sister-in-law and my daughter following an older lady into the house, along with our Costa Rican leader and our American team leader. I hurried to catch up and joined the end of the line. This looked like it might be an opportunity to see a bit more of the inner workings of this incredible place.

Inside, we were taken to a beautiful large living room. Right inside the door was a girl of about twelve holding a three week old baby, swathed in a pink blanket. The girl offered her to my sister-in-law, who after a few minutes, graciously handed her to my baby-loving daughter. There the baby nestled in for a nap in the arms of my contented daughter for the duration of our time inside.

We were told to have a seat. Melba, a calm, kind, and comfortable-looking woman sat on a sofa with Raymond, our Costa Rican leader, us three women sat on another sofa, and Steve, our team leader, sat on a chair.

As Melba started to speak, I had no idea that this would be the most impactful and inspiring hour of my entire week. I will share Part 2 tomorrow.

 

6 Reasons You Should Go

orphans collage

As you may have noticed by now, I am keeping to the theme of missions this week, in light of my upcoming trip to Costa Rica. You can read the whole story about why I am taking this particularly trip here if you missed it.

As I was thinking about leaving on Sunday, I started remembering some of the other mission trips I have been on. When our children were young, my husband and I determined that, if we had the resources to do so, we would make sure each of our children left United States soil at least once before they left our home. We felt it important for so many reasons. In the past five years, I have had the privilege to take my oldest daughter to Ukraine and my middle daughter to Guatemala. We saw God worked in an amazing way so that our whole family could go to Haiti. I feel so blessed to have been able to take these trips. Not only for the sake of my children, but for mine.

You see short-term mission trips, while definitely a blessing to those who are on the receiving end of our help and supplies, are perhaps an even bigger blessing to those of us who are on the giving end.

Why do I believe this?

Here are a few reasons–

1. We get out of our comfort zone. Oh, how so many of us love our comfort zones. So much so that many of us aren’t willing to go somewhere where we might be uncomfortable or hot or thirsty or have to work or can’t speak the language. It freaks us out and we exaggerate the awfulness of it all. But when we actually go, we see it isn’t so bad, after all.

2. It helps us gain perspective. If we live in the U.S. (or any other wealthy place) we can lose sight of the fact that the luxuries we take for granted are not worldwide. Taking a short-term trip shows us that there are actually people who live without computers (gasp!), cars, and running water. There is a whole world of people who have never been taught how to read or write. People that somehow make a plastic grocery bag full of rice and beans sustain their families for an entire month. There are children who live in institutions without the loving care of a family. Taking a mission trip opens our eyes to the real world that lies just outside our little sheltered place where we live most of our lives.

Let me add here that, while I believe we can find many places to minister here in the U.S. that will help us gain perspective, most countries do not have the welfare programs and government helps that we have here and so it is generally far worse conditions in many lands on this earth for those living in poverty.

3. It kindles our heart for the lost and renews our dedication to sharing the good news of the gospel both abroad and at home. Taking a trip reminds us of just how many people do not know the Lord personally. Many people have never even heard the gospel. Actually sharing the good news with lost souls is such a privilege. Sometimes we forget that in our day to day lives.

On one of my trips, I was one of the oldest team members and so I was the one they picked to actually sit down with the nationals and share the gospel, through an interpreter. I was so nervous. But I did it and it became more and more natural. And I was reminded that sharing the Lord with others isn’t as hard as I make it out to be.

4. We make incredible memories and new friends.  From the poignant to the crazy, memories abound on these trips. I remember vivid moments of frustration and fear. But I remember many more moments of satisfaction and joy. On each trip I made new friends, some of which I am still in touch with today.

5. We touch the lives of others. The photos above are all from my previous mission trips. Each one of these faces brings back beautiful memories. A connection of hearts was made, if even for the briefest moment. There are a few I still think of and occasionally pray for today–the beautiful young girl in a Ukrainian orphanage for the mentally handicapped, even though she didn’t seem to belong there; the energetic twin boys in Haiti who just loved my son; and the laughing, silly 2 year olds that I would spend my mornings with in Guatemala, helping to get them dressed for the day and giving them hugs. So many more encounters that I could fill up several pages worth (I won’t!) but as I write, my heart is filled with such thanksgiving that I was able to meet these precious souls, if even for just a few meager minutes of my life.

6. We have the opportunity to trust the Lord in the fearful moments and watch Him work. From how to raise the funds to go to some very frightening moments in airports, God has been so faithful to me through these trips. I honestly believe if we never take a risk we can never truly see Him work. Let’s face it, if we are average people in the first world, we have most of our needs and many of our desires met every day — food, water, clothing, and shelter are a given for most of us. Sure, we may have to choose ramen noodles over steak, but we aren’t starving. We rarely remove ourselves from this comfortable place to even be able to watch the Lord work. Of course, sometimes things beyond our control happen, such as accidents and diseases and we are thrust into that world quite suddenly. But a short-term mission trip is a way to give up a little control and quite purposely put your life in the Lord’s hands, if even for a week.

And so if you can find a trip, you should go! If the Lord’s been tugging at your heart about the trip with your church, then call today and get more details. If you heard about a trip a friend is going on and it keeps coming to mind, then do some checking online. But I would just encourage you, in keeping with my post yesterday, to make sure it is with an agency that keeps sharing the gospel as their number one priority.

Anyone can give food and shelter, but only Christians can give the life-giving water that changes lives for all eternity.

 

 

Wednesday Wisdom: Sham Compassion

earth

One of the biggest concerns I have regarding modern missions is the focus on the physical needs of man without care for the soul. 

Mark 8:36 says, “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?” This is in the context of gaining material wealth, but I believe it can also be applied to our mission philosophy. 

I know this is an unpopular stance to take, but Mark 8:36 makes it clear: all of the clean water, used clothing, and healthy food in the world isn’t going to make a difference eternally.  All of the educated masses, peace projects, and new buildings are not going to save a soul. Unless they are accomplished alongside sharing the truth about God and His way of salvation. For what do we accomplish enduringly if we don’t share the gospel? It is my opinion that all Christian mission agencies should have sharing the gospel as their primary purpose.

I have been so disappointed to see many “Christian” mission agencies relegating what should be their main purpose to fourth or fifth on their list or, for some, to not even making evangelism a part of their purpose, choosing instead to encourage the false religion that is already embraced in the foreign country for the sake of diversity and unity. I recently read a pamphlet by a Christian mission agency that actually put it something like this– “We exist to provide clean water, education, and care for {the people} and we teach them about God’s love, too.” Not exact words, but close. 

My thought was that this is a rather new occurrence in our modern day messed-up church. But, alas, Catherine Booth was running into this same problem in the 1800’s as she and her husband started the Salvation Army. This short excerpt is from her book Popular Christianity. She goes on to expound on the different errors that we make in our human take on missions and it is an excellent piece, but much too long to offer here. And so I will share her introduction and her last paragraph. Both of which are full of wisdom when it comes to this topic of missions, whether they be at home or on foreign soil. Let’s keep first things first!

Here is the excerpt–

Benevolence has come somewhat into fashion of late. It has become the correct things to do the slums, since the Prince of Wales did them; and this general idea of caring in some way or degree for the poor and wretched has extended itself even into the region of creeds, so that we have now many schemes for the salvation of mankind without a real Saviour.

Do not misunderstand me. I have no objection—nay, I rejoice in any real good being done for anybody, much more for the poor and suffering—I have no objection that a large society of intelligent Christians should take up so noble an object as that of caring for stray dogs, providing it does not interfere with caring for stray babies! I desire not to find fault with what is good, but to point out the evil which, to my mind, so largely diminishes the satisfaction one would otherwise feel in much benevolent effort being put forth around us. As I said at the beginning, the most precious stone given instead of bread is useless to a starving man.

Surely nobody ever cared for poor suffering humanity so much as Jesus Christ. He gladly put forth His mighty power for the healing and feeding of the body, and He laid it down most distinctly that all who were true to Him must love the poor and give up their all for them in the same practical way in which He did; but all this real brotherhood did not prevent His keeping the great truths of salvation ever to the front, and applying them as relentlessly to the poor as to the rich, and vice versâ.

But now in the name of Christ we are asked to believe either that the truest way to carry out His intentions is to ignore men’s souls and care only for their bodies, or else to join with this sort of material salvation some theory that will practically get rid of all serious soul-need.

And she closes with this final statement–
Let no benevolent projects, no magnificent phrases deceive you. The good done to mankind by the poor fisherman who spoke the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, has surpassed all the achievements of modern philanthropy as far as the noon-day sun surpasses the rushlight.

If you want to elevate the masses, go and ask HIM how to do it, and if the answer comes, “Take up thy cross and follow Me,” OBEY.

 

Impatience Is Not a Virtue

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Inevitably, we run into the same problem every spring within our landscaping company. Everyone wants their patios and outdoor fireplaces and retaining walls built immediately. They are excited about the upcoming season and want to put their exciting plans for an outdoor living space in motion as soon as possible.

But here’s the problem: hardscaping is a job that requires skill and education, and so we only have a handful of men qualified in this company to take a job from start to finish. We have divided them into two crews. That means that we can only work on two projects at a time. As we are well-known and trusted in the area, we usually end up with a pretty long waiting list for installs. We try to tell people we are worth the wait, but, occasionally, some of them get impatient and won’t wait. I can understand their frustration. But that frustration can lead to a big mistake.

They call a guy who is just getting started (or an old guy who is starting a new business with a new name for the 5th time!) and hire him. These guys do not generally have a waiting list and can often start jobs immediately. Now, let me preface all of this by saying that a few of these guys are good, honest guys who do quality work to the best of their ability. But that is not the norm. Many of them are uneducated without proper insurance at best and complete shysters at worst.

As my husband always says: If someone can be there right away (or even in two weeks) in the springtime, they are probably not a very quality company.

Ironically, this decision has often ended up causing people great stress and, most times, even more frustration than they started with.

Take, for example, two recent situations where Eric was approached for a price to fix the shoddy work of these types of incompetent contractors. In both cases, the customers are also out quite a bit of money and one is looking at a lawsuit to try and retrieve at least some of it. These are not the first jobs that we have entered midstream because of this reason.

You see, patience sometimes is necessary in order to get a beautiful product that will last for a lifetime. There is so much more to hardscaping than throwing down pavers. There is great care needed in laying the proper base, great importance in using the right materials and tools, and careful precision needed in making the right cuts. Does the person you want to hire have specific training for this job and the proper insurances and equipment? These are critical questions before hiring a contractor.

So why am I writing about this on a devotional blog? Or do you already see the correlation?

We live in a world that wants everything right away. We do not want to wait for anything. And so we make mistakes.

Sometimes they are home-related –like hiring a shyster who can start right away instead of waiting for a respected and trust-worthy contractor.

Sometimes our mistakes are financial –like wasting hundreds of dollars at a casino or on lottery tickets trying to make quick, easy money instead of working hard and investing wisely.

Sometimes these mistakes are made by young singles –like marrying an unbeliever instead of waiting for a godly spouse.

And sometimes they are made as families –like settling for the first, comfortable {and compromising} church we visit rather than carrying out a thorough search for a church that is teaching sound biblical doctrine.

But all of these mistakes are also spiritual. How come?

I guess what I see as a common thread here is self-centeredness driven by feelings. When we aren’t willing to wait on an outcome, even though that outcome would be better and yield much higher dividends and rewards in the long run, then we are operating on feelings. And feelings are just never good things on which to base decisions.

Don’t get me wrong, feelings hold some weight. But when faced with a decision, it is best to look at all of the possible options with all of the possible outcomes. And then, pushing the impatient feelings aside, we make the wisest decision we can with the information we have.

There is no doubt that decision-making can be excruciatingly hard. But we should never base any decision on our feelings of impatience and frustration.

 

Holy What??

holy2

 

Holy _____________.  You fill in the blank.

Yes, this word can be followed by Spirit or Bible or God. But, most often, it is followed by crap (or crap’s crude counterpart) or cow or some other meaningless word. I hear this ALL. THE. TIME. I hear friends and family explode with these terms in surprise. I hear people I consider very godly use these terms. I even heard a pastor on the radio use one of these terms in a sermon.

For some reason I cannot fathom, Christians think this is perfectly okay to say.

So…why do I think it’s not okay? (And, trust me, I am well aware that I am probably the only Christian on the planet who finds offense when this is said.) But here’s why I believe these are terms better left unsaid–

A. The meaning of the word holy is is almost exclusively religious outside of it’s crude expression. There is no meaning apart from its sacred definition. While it doesn’t explicitly apply to Christianity, it does always have a religious meaning. It is most often applied to the Christian God and used in the Christian religion.

Find the definition for HOLY here. You will notice that only the 7th –7th!– definition has nothing specifically to do with God or religion. So when we speak the word holy, we are using a religious term.

B. God is made up of three persons –God, the Father, Jesus, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the Comforter.  We Christians are offended when we use the names God or Jesus as a swear word (well, some of us are, which I already addressed in a post here), but for some reason we can use part of the Holy Spirit’s name and not find offense.

These are the two reasons why I, personally, do not use these terms. It just doesn’t seem like the best thing to say. I am not making a judgment about your spirituality or godliness if you do use these terms. I am simply asking that we give some thought to this term.

Is it the best term to use? Or could we express our surprise and shock in a way that is more pleasing to God? It’s just something to think about.

 

The Tie That Binds

Have you ever had the following experience? You start talking with someone. It may be a complete stranger at the mall or in a restaurant. It could be your insurance agent or your professor. As you converse, you find out that they, too, follow Christ. As you talk further you realize that they– just like you– are passionate about their faith. Immediately you feel this amazing bond that is beyond any human comprehension. It is quite different than finding someone who comes from the same city or does the same job. It is an awareness that you are related in the Lord. It is a wonderful experience.

I remember this happening twenty years ago. My husband and I were going to one of those special all-inclusive honeymoon places in The Poconos (anyone else remember those? The Poconos was the place to go before the Caribbean became the place to go). We were celebrating our 5th anniversary and by that time had a couple of kids. We were excited to spend a weekend alone.

When we arrived, we found out that we had to share a table with another couple at our meals. We were a bit hesitant as we headed to the resort’s restaurant. Who would we be seated with? A loud, obnoxious couple who loved to drink? A quiet couple who made it difficult to converse? An old couple? A young couple? We were anticipating complete awkwardness (keep in mind that we were really just kids at the time and especially hated to be put out of our comfort zone).

Imagine our surprise when we arrived at the dining room and were seated with a police officer and his wife from Brooklyn, NY. We quickly surmised from their accents that they had probably been born outside America and found out a few minutes into our dinner that they had immigrated from Nigeria. That certainly gave us something to talk about. We were relieved. Our dinner partners were pleasant enough and we knew we would be fine.

But as we chatted with them, we eventually realized that we were related in the Lord. And, after that, all our supposed differences fell away. As other couples drank and danced the night away, we stayed at the table, talking about raising kids, church, and life in light of our common faith. We talked about the difference between Nigeria and Brooklyn. I especially remember his conversation about Nigerian jails. FYI: You really want to avoid going to a Nigerian jail (and it was his opinion that American jails should be a little more like them!) We talked about our cultures and homes. But all of our conversation was infused with the knowledge that, although we had different skin colors and came from completely different countries and backgrounds, we were one in Christ.

And the knowledge of that was so sweet.

You see, when we meet a fellow brother or sister in the Lord it doesn’t really matter what color they are or what background they come from or what they are wearing or how much money they have. It doesn’t even matter if you can speak the same language.

One of my favorite things about mission trips is when we will go to a national church. Hearing the familiar tunes being sung in a different language is a reminder that the bond we have in Christ is strong and very special. It reminds me of the old hymn–

Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.

I didn’t really understand the words in this song when I was younger, but life has taught me about this Christian love that binds our hearts. Twenty years have passed since that time together around a table at a honeymoon resort in the mountains of Pennsylvania and yet I still clearly remember it. We thoroughly enjoyed their company and all four of us mused at how God had arranged for us to sit at the same table.

For true Christian love is a tie that binds us to our Christian brothers and sisters. And I thank the Lord for that.

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