Don’t get left behind.

Posted on June 19, 2011 by Margaret

Nobody wants to get left behind, not in a race, not when friends leave, not when the rapture occurs. But many in my generation are finding themselves left behind by technology.

The first personal computers were a challenge with their MS-DOS soft disks called hard, and their hard ones called floppy. Just turning it on was a problem, and it took me a decade to learn what the initials “PC” meant.

Then came mobile phones. Nate had a car phone back when they operated on a you-talk-I-talk system much like walkie-talkies. But that was kindergarten compared to cell phones.

My children, who found each new tech toy a joy to “play with” told me, “Mom, it’s just like speaking a new language. Learn the vocabulary, and you’ll be able to communicate with all this stuff.”

I love words, at least those of real languages, but tech-talk comes from outer space. Even so, I don’t want to be left behind with an unwillingness to learn, so recently I stood in front of a wall of gleaming, new-fangled cell phones at an AT&T store.

“My old phone doesn’t work,” I told the clerk, a darling sales-child who looked like a middle schooler. She frowned as I handed over my battered red slide-phone, the one I labored to love 3 years ago and had no intention of surrendering.

“I like my phone,” I told her, reading her face like a sentence that said, “Poor old lady, can’t keep up.”

“If you could just duplicate this,” I said, “I’ll leave happy.”

“Well,” she began, trying to talk slow enough for me to comprehend, “we don’t have that exact phone anymore, but let’s look at your account, shall we?”

Ushering me to the counter, she leaned into her computer for a minute, then broke into a broad grin. “I have some fantastic news! You’re eligible for a $400 phone completely free of charge!”

One mentally-taxing hour later, she’d demonstrated three different “smart phones” to a dumb listener, finishing with a flourish: “A smart phone can be your GPS, your ipod, your calendar, your calculator, your…” at which point she lost me. My mind was occupied with a picture of a waste basket overflowing with my red phone, my new GPS, my perfectly good ipod, my calendar, my calculator, my…

“Do you offer tutoring?” I said, looking for an excuse to turn her down.

“Come in anytime, and we’ll help you.” She paused and studied my crinkled expression then said, “How would you like my cell number? You can call me personally, although not after 10:00 pm.”

That did it.

While she readied the paper work, I thought of how simple and timeless it is to communicate with the God of the Universe. No buttons, screens or prompts. No learning curve. Just a prayer breathed or a thought directed toward him. It’s always been that way and will never require repair. Talking with God is free of charge and upgrading doesn’t apply. Best of all, he will see to it we never get left behind.

So I signed for a smart phone that’s smarter than I am, probably not a smart thing to do.

“Morning, noon, and night I cry out in my distress, and the Lord hears my voice.” (Psalm 55:17)

Shaken Up

Posted on May 24, 2011 by Margaret

What would it be like to live through a tornado? In checking on Joplin, Missouri today, I listened to several testimonies on the internet. As one man told his story, lightning sparked in the background, and he flinched. Fear still lingered.

A doctor in scrubs, standing in front of the destroyed hospital, wiped a tear and said, “Everybody in town is going to personally know someone who’s died in this tornado.”

But saddest of all was the man stopped by a reporter as he picked through the pile of boards that had been his home. The reporter asked, “Have you been able to find everyone?”

The man held up both hands and said, “I just need gloves. I can’t find gloves. How can I dig without gloves?”

Sunday’s storm produced the deadliest single tornado in US weather history, flattening 30% of a town with 50,000 people. One man who’d lived in Joplin all his life said he had to use his GPS to figure out where he was. It located him on Main Street, but there’d been no way to tell.

How does a person endure total devastation and come out on the other side?

First, citizens band together in ways that never would happen without catastrophe. Strangers become friends, and disparities evaporate. Those of different ages, incomes, race and rank join together with a single theme: how can I help you? Willing workers from nearby towns and distant cities pour in by the hundreds to do what needs doing, and by this, victims find the courage to go on.

One seasoned rescue worker described a common response of those returning to the splintered piles that used to be their homes. “They come looking for practical things, glasses, keys, personal papers, photos. It’s a healthy sign that they’re going to make it.”

Secondly, God arrives in special ways. Because he’s in the rescue business with an emphasis on souls, he’s fully prepared for the crowds that will turn to him in desperation. His Word describes what can and can’t be shaken, and though Joplin has been badly shaken, the unshaken still remains: unfailing love, joy in being alive, peace amidst chaos, hope for the future.

And God has a full supply of those, able to meet even the biggest demand. He has already begun rebuilding lives in Joplin. He got there ahead of the Red Cross, FEMA and the governor. And when they and others have gone, he will remain.

As I watched news reports, one interviewer played a cell phone video recorded in a convenience store. As the tornado arrived, screaming intensified, people stumbling over each other. The store went dark, and everyone crowded into a food storage locker. As the tornado’s noise increased, it drowned out the screaming except for one voice, a simple prayer: “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!”

He was in the food locker, too, and after the terrifying two minutes were over, a shout went up: “Thank you Jesus!”

Not one person had been injured.

“All of creation will be shaken and removed, so that only unshakable things will remain.” (Heb. 12:27)

It’s a sign.

Posted on May 17, 2011 by Margaret

Most of us have computer inboxes chock-full of “forwards” from friends. We can’t possibly read them all, but some are clever enough to pull us in.

When I received pictures of signs outside different churches, a few of them laugh-out-loud funny, I was inspired to begin my own collection of attention-grabbing signs.

For example, the other day I saw a minivan with a crumpled rear end that told the tale of an accident. The owner had put a sign in his back window:

“Put your phone down! I don’t want another bruise.”

Last summer our neighborhood association erected a sign atop our beach dune. It’s a quote from Carl Sandburg, who lived near here briefly. He loved the wide beaches, and local lore has it he worked on his Lincoln biography during his Michigan years. The sign says:

“THE DUNES CONSTITUTE A SIGNATURE OF TIME AND ETERNITY. THEIR LOSS WOULD BE IRREVOCABLE — Carl Sandburg”

Our board hopes to use Sandburg’s clout to guide our footsteps toward the designated pathways that go up, over and down the dune. We all love our beach and are glad to comply.

Last week while in Chicago, I noticed another interesting sign tied to a small tree growing through a sidewalk “port” in front of Marshall Fields:

“This tree gives back $1,436 worth of environmental benefits over the next 15 years.”

It was tagged by the Morton Arboretum (located west of Chicago) with the words, “Every tree counts,” touting the myriad benefits of trees. The former mayor, Richard M. Daley, had put his stamp of approval on the project and on the tree label.

Americans are fortunate to live in a country that allows them to say almost anything. My own children have been on mission trips to countries where word-freedom was limited. They needed advance training on what not to say.

The gift of words was initiated by God and given to all of us. But it wasn’t just so we could communicate back and forth with each other. He hoped we would return his word-gifts to him.

That goes for any and every topic, and he has initiated a 24/7 open door policy of frankness and honesty. He doesn’t want anything to limit our sharing words with him, hoping we’ll communicate personally, not by posting signs.

God encourages freedom of speech toward him. We’re foolish not to take him up on it, because when we make the effort, he returns words back to us in a perfect circle of communication.

The other day I was heading for a Kohls store and felt lucky to find the number one parking spot empty. But as I pulled in, I saw it wasn’t for me. A sign said: