An Easter Blessing

Charles Dickens’ classic novel, A Tale of Two Cities, begins, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”  Certain days seem that way, too.

Last Saturday was one of those days for me and my family.  You see, Saturday was the day I officiated our oldest daughter’s wedding ceremony.  It was the best of times.  That same day also marked the funeral of one of the same daughter’s best friends from high school and college.  Her father officiated that service.  It was the worst of times.

Good Friday is another of those days.  Why call “good” the day upon which our Lord was brutally murdered?  It is only through the redeeming power of God that we can consider such a day, such an event, good.  Were it not for the promise of Resurrection Sunday, of Easter, that Friday would be anything but good.  

But Easter is an accomplished fact.  It is the day upon which that same Lord overcame death and fulfilled his promise of forgiveness and life eternal.  Without Friday, though, it could never have happened.  Hard as it was, Friday was very good, indeed.

This weekend, Friday included, marks the very best of times.  So, too, did last Saturday, with its wedding, and even with its funeral.  God's redeeming power seen so clearly in the resurrection was also at work in the life of our daughter’s friend.  Her death marks the beginning of life at home in the presence of God.  That fact allows us to join with the Psalmist in acknowledging that, “Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his faithful servants” (Psalm 116:15).

As we celebrate Easter this Sunday, remember that it happened because, not in spite, of the events of Good Friday.  The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ were not God’s “Plan B.”  He knew the darkness of our hearts and loved us anyway.  He knew the suffering and sacrifice it would take, but he loved us anyway.  The pain and sorrow of Good Friday were transformed into the exuberant celebration of Easter Sunday because he loved us anyway.

May all the blessings of Easter be yours because of his love.

God, Be Glorified

Parents, we should be praying not that our children
would be healthy, happy, and successful,
but that God would be glorified through their lives.

Those words from my pastor continue to weigh on my mind.  I have to confess, I have more often asked God to take care of my children than I have asked that their lives would glorify him.  What higher purpose is there than to bring honor and glory to the one who created us and stands ready to redeem and sustain those who call on him?  But that can be a hard prayer to pray.

A Parable of Two Daughters

Once there were two daughters, unrelated, but sisters at heart.  They met and became good friends.  While each was very much her own person, they found they had a great deal in common.  They shared a sense of adventure, their family backgrounds were remarkably similar, they shared a common faith, and they both embraced life with enthusiasm. 

As they neared graduation, each sought the best opportunity to further her education.  As God would have it, they ended-up attending the same university.  They chose separate courses of study, so, while their paths diverged to a degree, they remained good friends throughout.

Upon finishing their education, the first became a nurse, while the other a missionary – each in their own way serving God.  The first excelled at her work, increased her knowledge and ability, and was soon caring for the most critical patients.  Along the way, she fell in love and was married.  Likewise, the second excelled in her ministry, too, and followed her call to a city and people for whom she cared very deeply.

Along the way, both daughters encountered various challenges and opportunities that they embraced with fervor.  The second found great fulfillment in her work and experienced countless opportunities she might never have known elsewhere.  Though not always easy, she found great satisfaction in seeing others come to know God and in helping the ministry to flourish.

The first also found fulfillment in her work and marriage.  Likewise, she experienced unexpected opportunity, but in a sharply different way.  Very early in her career, she was diagnosed with a grave illness.  It was staggering, nearly devastating.  But with her faith and a deepening maturity, she embraced her battle with the same passion and enthusiasm for life that first drew her and her “sister” together.  She shared her story – openly, honestly, and with a sense of humor that took some by surprise, even as it drew them in.  And as she did so, she grew in ways she’d neither expected nor imagined.  It was almost as if God was doing a work in her, not in spite of, but because of the challenges she was facing.  A work she would never have known any other way.

Last week, the second daughter made final preparations for her wedding.  The first entered hospice care.  In which daughter’s life was God genuinely glorified?

I tell you the truth, it is both.  Despite their very different journeys, despite their very different circumstances, God is glorified in the life of each daughter.  In ways that only God can do, he is faithfully present in each daughter’s experiences, redeeming them for his glory, working through them and in them to accomplish his purposes. 

It is not ours to fully understand the ways of God.  It is very much ours to lean on his character and his word, trusting that he will be glorified in our lives as we yield them to him.  In our lives, and in the lives of our children, God, be glorified.

I am not skilled to understand
what God has willed, what God has planned.
I only know at his right hand
stands one who is my Savior.
                                       -- Aaron Shust

Remembering the Future

One of my favorite Christmas traditions is our Christmas tree.  While I’m not a huge fan of hauling boxes out of storage and setting it up, I do enjoy the beauty and the memories our tree evokes.  Most of the ornaments on our tree are connected to places and people who hold a special place in our hearts.  Year after year, those ornaments take us back to fond memories of past. 

This year, though, our tree has a slightly different look to it.  One might say it has a somewhat more “creative” display than in years past.  Where, typically, we distribute the ornaments to produce a full and balanced display, this year’s tree includes an eclectic grouping of ornaments concentrated in a space of about 6 inches.  It also happens that this collection is right at 3-year-old eye level.  You see, this year, for the very first time, our grandson had his heart set on being part of decorating our tree, and, of course, we welcomed his help. 

One of my favorite times to enjoy our tree is after everyone else has gone to bed, the TV is off, and the evening is winding down.  It’s not really intentional, but I often find myself staring at the tree and remembering times past.  It’s a selective process, of course, as I spend so much more time remembering the good times than I do the hard times.  Sometimes, that remembering makes it difficult to feel very good about Christmases ahead.  This has been a very difficult year for our nation and our world, as hatred, violence, natural disaster, and threats like terrorism and nuclear holocaust have dominated our news.  But, then, I look at that spot on our tree with all its assorted decorations.

Our grandson’s part in decorating the tree reminds me that God still has more ahead.  The innocence and promise of his young life bear witness to the fact that God continues to move and to work, most often in ways that are outside the grasp of my limited understanding.  While much of my Christmas focuses on remembering – remembering God’s gift in that miracle birth, remembering my own celebrations of that event over the years – I need never to let remembering keep me from anticipating God’s future work. 

As I remember the past, I can also “remember” the future – its promise and, ultimately, its path.  Though I can’t see it nearly so well as I can remember selected parts of the past, the future is every bit as real.  I don’t know the details, and I can’t control it nearly so much as I like to think I can, but the future is just as much God’s as is the past.  Hebrews 13:8 reminds us that, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.”  He doesn’t change, regardless of our circumstances.  Even if some of those things that concern us most actually come to pass, God’s love, power, and purpose remain unchanged.

Nearly 40 years ago, when my wife and I first started decorating our own tree, we couldn’t possibly have imagined what the future would hold.  And it’s probably just as well, because I’m not sure my finite mind could have comprehended everything that’s transpired since then.  One constant throughout, though, has been God’s faithful love and provision, in good times and in bad, that has sustained and blessed us.  In the same way, I don’t have to know the details of the future to know God doesn’t change, that his faithful love and provision will see me through everything that lies ahead, good and bad.

If ever I’m tempted to doubt that, all I have to do is look at our tree. 

"It's never been this..."

“Our nation has never been this divided.”  You’ve heard it said, maybe even said it yourself.  And, at least at times, it does seem that way.  To be sure, we have some deep and serious divisions in our national culture.  Fault lines along topics like race, economics, politics, and (seemingly) countless others threaten to fracture our nation, perhaps irreparably.  In fact, there are those who would suggest just such a fragmentation is imminent.  But are they right?

Marty Duren, self-described “Christ follower, husband, father, writer, social media manager and teaching pastor,” would disagree.  In a recent social media post, he proposed that a look at our nation’s history might suggest a different conclusion.  Without diminishing in the least our current crises, Duren calls attention to the U.S. Civil War of the 1860’s in which more than 600,000 lives were lost.  He also points to the huge cultural divides of the 1960’s that "saw soldiers and marines who had just returned from combat in Vietnam deployed on the streets of America to control protest and rioting," multiple assassinations, and domestic bombings so frequent they "reached 'ho-hum' levels."

When we take Duren's advice and look closely at our national history, we see that dissension, division, and heated antipathy are recurring elements of our national character.  When, then, do we tend to think our circumstances are the worst ever?  Why do we believe things have never been this a) divided, b) hateful, c) unpredictable, d) angry (choose all that apply)?  More to the point, regardless of where they'd rank on the list of "all-time worst," what can we do to bridge, even erase, the deepest of our divisions?

Duren's suggestion to take a closer look at history bears rich dividends here, as well.  Following the Civil War, intentional steps were taken to facilitate the reunification of the nation, though not exactly in a pre-war condition.  The new nation officially included nearly four million new citizens, slaves freed during the course of the war.  Sadly, it took the deaths of those 600,000 soldiers and citizens over four long years to begin the process of fully incorporating former slaves into the fabric of our nation (a process that continues to this day).  Similarly, it was only after many painful years of protests and violence that our culture found room to include traditional and more progressive values.  At least for a time, we seemed to find room for both the clean-cut and the long-haired, the conventional and the non-conformist.

In both cases, it seems the pain and angst of violence led to a recognition that the opposing sides had a common interest in reducing the intensity of the conflict.  It wasn't easy, and it was never smooth.  There were (and are still) pockets of reluctance and resistance on both sides, but progress was made.  How, then, can we reduce the level of hostility and confrontation we see in our own culture today?

I'd suggest it begins with an acknowledgement of the inherent worth of each and every human being.  (For me, this stems from my theology that teaches we are ALL created in the image of God.)  Such an acknowledgement allows room for conversation, and we can all learn so much from genuine conversation.  Now, conversation doesn't necessarily generate instant agreement.  It does, though, offer a full, more complete, understanding of another's position.  That richer understanding, then, can lead to fuller appreciation of each other.

Passion and conviction are, undoubtedly, important.  But, so long as our interactions with one another are driven chiefly, even exclusively, by emotion rather than understanding, we will remain divided.  Hostility and antagonism will continue to flourish.  If we will work, instead, toward honest conversation, perhaps we can change our future history by bridging divides before they lead to Civil War or 1960's levels of hatred and violence.  The choice is ours.

#MartyDuren  #history  #culturalconflict  #culturaldivision  #conversation  #inherentworth

The Cost of Caring

As I began to give thought to the subject of this post, I considered reflecting on my family’s experiences during Hurricane Andrew, now a full 25 years ago.  Then Harvey happened.  So, I gave thought to addressing the terrible circumstances that continue to unfold in Texas, but, now, Irma. 

Sometimes, it seems as though the disasters never end.  And that’s before we even take into account human disasters like Syria, Charlotte, nuclear threats, and so many others.  It becomes very easy to find oneself feeling completely overwhelmed, unable to deal with the magnitude and frequency of countless tragedies. 

The truth of the matter is our brains aren’t wired to deal with non-stop waves of immense tragedy and suffering, each seemingly higher than the last.  We become numb to the personal, emotional component of each successive horror and respond with less and less compassion and concern.

This response (or lack of response) is so consistent and so predictable, there is a term to describe it: Disaster Fatigue.  The more destruction to which we are exposed, the less likely we are to respond.  The greater the need, the less we do.

So, what can we do to counteract this tendency toward apathy?  How can we step forward and help meet the needs of so many?  Ironically, the most effective way to step forward may be to step back.  

As my friend Marilyn Gardner has so eloquently written – 

"I have found that I have to exit the noise.  I cannot sustain the information overload.  It renders me useless in everyday life.  When I give myself permission to exit the noise, when I allow myself to move to a place of quiet, I become healthier and more compassionate...a quiet place of contemplation and prayer is far more valuable than distraction and overload."

She continues - 

"Prayer leads me to reliance on a God who 'will not grow weary, and whose understanding no one can fathom,' and in the comfort of those age-old words, I can lose the guilt and rely on a never-ending resource of compassion and strength, available to all in crisis." 

Pay close attention:  The solution to our disaster fatigue is NOT to simply retreat into a “spiritual fetal position” of reflection and withdrawal. Rather, the only hope I have of being the “salt and light” I am called to be in this world is to avail myself of God’s endless resources.  Only by allowing God to do a work in me am I able to see God work through me.  

Only by allowing God to do a work in me

am I able to see God work through me.  

To many, it may seem counterintuitive to pull aside in order to more fully engage, but the time I invest in drawing near to God is more than amply repaid.  I find myself more caring, more generous, and more able to withstand the stress and strain of doing my part in meeting the needs of those beset by tragedy, both here and around the world. 

_____________________________________

To read more of Marilyn Gardner’s thoughtful and articulate work, please visit:
    www.communicatingacrossboundariesblog.com/blog/  

New Insights into Old Words, Stanza 2

Just more than two years ago, I wrote a column for our local paper about words we don’t hear so often anymore.  I talked about words like “icebox,” “mimeograph,” “Kodachrome,” “transistor,” “curlers,” “HiFi,” “oleo,” “phonograph,” and “floppy drive.”  In an effort to avoid dating myself too precisely, I’ll tell you I’ve never used the term “icebox,” but “floppy drive” is one I’ve seen both come and go.  

In that column, I focused, especially, on the word, “redeem.”  The context was the adoption of our first grandchild, Oliver Dean.  Given the circumstances surrounding his birth, the opportunity to be welcomed into a loving and supportive adoptive family was nothing less than total redemption.  Without it, his very survival could well have been at risk. Today, Oliver is a beautiful, healthy, loving, bright, energetic (I am a proud grandparent, after all) almost-three-year-old.  And in a very exciting development, he is also a big brother! 

Coehn James arrived in early December.  Like his big brother before him, he, too, is adopted.  In fact, the end of July marks the finalization of the adoption process.  At first, I wondered whether or not the idea of redemption fit his situation, too.  The circumstances of Coehn’s birth were quite different from his brother’s.  Unlike Oliver’s situation (in which DHS was involved), Coehn’s birth mother and her family made the decision to hand him into the loving embrace of a caring adoptive family (though not without a few tears, I'm sure).  However, given the legal (if not ethical) options available to Coehn's birth mother, I came to realize the term "redeemed" fit his situation just as well as it did his brother's.

Another word describes Coehn’s situation for me, too, though.  That word is “bequeath.”  Typically heard mostly in a legal context (think wills and estates), it literally means “to pass on or leave to someone else.”   When Coehn's birth mother made the difficult and selfless decision to give him up for adoption, she bequeathed to him opportunities he would not have known otherwise.  When I consider Coehn’s God-given potential and the possibilities now open to him, I begin to understand the magnitude of the gift his birth mother bequeathed to him when she made that difficult decision.   

As it was for Oliver, my prayer for Coehn is that he will come to understand how God has moved to redeem him through adoption and the vast array of blessing and opportunity that has been bequeathed to him in that process.  Too, I pray both Oliver and Coehn will come to understand that God’s redemption for them is far bigger than just physical adoption and will come to know God’s spiritual redemption, as well.  

We look forward to what is ahead. For the moment, though, we simply celebrate the redemption that has brought Coehn James into our lives and all that has been bequeathed to each of us through that very precious gift. 

To God be the glory!

#adoption  #grandchildren  #redemption  #bequeath  #redeem  #birthmom

Method v. Message

A few weeks ago, I checked-off one of the items on my “bucket list,” that list of things we want to do before we die.  I don’t think I have a particularly long list, and it’s probably not all that adventurous (though landing on and taking off from an aircraft carrier is on there).  One item that had been there for several years, though, was to see the Broadway production of THE LION KING.  When the touring version stopped in OKC, I finally had my chance!

I’d wondered for a long time just how a stage production could reproduce an animated movie.  It seemed to me that some things that could be animated just simply couldn’t be reproduced “live and in-person.”  As the show began, it quickly became clear that the secret to the stage production’s world-wide success was precisely that those in charge DIDN’T try to reproduce the film.  Instead, they created an incredible stage version based on the same story that inspired the film.  By utilizing techniques suited specifically to the stage (rather than to film), creators put together a world-class production. 

Now, to be sure, there were some common characters, musical elements, and so on.  Even those, though, were reformatted to fit the context of the stage.  New music was added, sets/scenes were reimagined, even some characters were reinvented or created.  What didn’t change, though, was the basic underlying story that inspired the wildly successful film – a story told by animals that was, ultimately, a very human story of life, death, commitment, and community.

Well, that got me to wondering.  Are there times in my life when I try to replicate a method, rather than retelling the story, times when I am more intent on reproducing an experience rather than re-sharing a message?  I quickly came to the conclusion that, in fact, I have done that very thing on many occasions.

When I stubbornly try to recreate a family holiday experience or tradition, rather than being open to new and fresh ways to celebrate the season (ways, perhaps, better suited to current circumstances), do I not miss the real blessings of the holiday?  If I insist that the only “genuine” or “real” worship is that worship rendered in the style I know and prefer, am I not confusing the method with the message?

Now, some people prefer a movie over a stage production, and that’s fine.  But if my circumstances in life have changed, if the world has changed, and I find myself onstage rather than in a movie theater (metaphorically speaking), what do I accomplish – for myself, or for those around me – by insisting that we try to recreate the movie?  While I may miss the “golden age” of movies, to insist that the new production forego its own innate strengths in an attempt make it something it is not will frustrate both me and those who enjoy live theater.  And the story, the message, will be lost in the process.

The Broadway version of THE LION KING is a beautiful work of art, not because it reproduces the movie that preceded it, but because it is an exceptional stage production that conveys a powerful story.  So, too, the movie is exceptional because it so effectively uses cinematic tools and techniques to effectively share the same powerful story.  May I be sure to use every tool, every method, every technique at my disposal – here and now – not to replicate an experience, but to convey a powerful message.

#message #holidays #worship #movies #stage