Monthly Archives: April 2011

A Secret Society

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Although some people designate the month of April for spring cleaning, at my house we’re making messes.

When Nate and I moved into this cottage full time in June of 2009, the house was ready for a face lift. Its colors were the same ones we registered at the Marshall Fields bridal registry in 1969: psychedelic oranges, yellows, and greens. After we got married, we stuck with that color scheme for about two years, but the Michigan house was stuck there still.

Our 2009 summer as new Michigan residents was a mixed blessing. We were glad to be here, but Nate’s back was bothering him intensely. Neither of us knew that very soon we would learn of his cancer, and our plans would be permanently altered.

But before all that, I remember an evening when the two of us sat amidst the boxes and talked of fixing up the house. I was all about paint and throw rugs, but he was thinking bigger. He saw new windows, air conditioning, fresh siding, even a larger kitchen.

About a year after Nate died, I was finally ready to begin on the plans we’d made together. We painted the rooms and laid down the throw rugs. At Christmas time we tackled the windows. This month our goal was to get rid of the last of the musty cottage smell by way of pulling up the wild orange, yellow and red carpeting in the sunroom. Because of former roof leaks and wobbly floors, everything beneath the carpet had to go, too, an interesting combination of several layers of wood.

After the floor had been rebuilt and prepped for tile, Drew started on the back stairs. As he pulled up the old, carpeted boards one by one, an odd-shaped space beneath the stairway and its two landings became exposed to light for the first time. Although we found storage bins that had been shoved into that small area, daylight illuminated what had been a secret.

A  cramped, dark place we thought had been useless has actually been of great use to quite a few others. Sweeping between the stair supports, I found a stash belonging to chipmunks, carefully stacked piles of dry dog food. Spider webs decorated every corner, many of them occupied, and mice had used the area as a bathroom.

When I came to a cluster of acorns, I wondered if Little Red and his squirrel-pals had somehow snuck in there, too.  And all this while we’d been upstairs, blissfully unaware of the secret society below us.

As I swept, I thought of my own secret places where tiny sins can move in and live without me noticing. That’s the way Satan wants it, quiet and ignored, until a secret society of sins has taken up residence. By the time I become aware of the neighborhood of nasties I’ve overlooked, it ends up to be a major eviction project.

While Drew continues to make a springtime “mess” toward home improvement, it might be good for me to do some internal spring cleaning… right after I call the exterminator.

“How can I know all the sins lurking in my heart? Cleanse me from these hidden faults.” (Psalm 19:12)

Thank you.

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Those of us who started attending church when we were on the cradle roll are happy to talk about God. We’re usually faithful to pray, and we’re even comfortable with praying out loud if asked. After all, Jesus became our childhood friend as we met him through flannelgraph stories in Sunday school. Talking to him was much like talking to any of our other friends.

Then we grew older and learned there was more to it than that. We realized God wasn’t on a par with any of our other friends but was unique, superior, someone who merited reverence and awe, and the utmost of respect.

Eventually we were taught that to fear the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and surely approaching God ought to be done as wisely as possible. Did that mean he wanted us to be afraid of him when we prayed? If so, then why did he tell us to “come as little children” and “come boldly to the throne of grace?” Can we come to him that way if we’re afraid?

At the very least, fearing God probably means respecting his authority and power. He’s the ultimate in both categories and can do anything he wants with anything he’s created, which includes us. If we’re on his bad side, he is to be feared indeed, since he will judge all of mankind. He also wants us to revere him as God of gods, holy and perfect.

While I was contemplating what might be the wisest way to approach the Lord, probably making it more complicated than it needed to be, I heard someone pray a wise prayer. Sandy was asked to pray at the conclusion of our women’s Bible study today. We’d had a discussion about true wisdom and fearing God. If I’d been the one praying, I probably would have started by begging God to give us more wisdom, but not Sandy.

She started by thanking God for who he is and continued to list reasons all of us were thankful for him. The middle of her prayer was more gratitude, one thing after another, and she concluded with a final series of thank you’s. Her prayer was all about the Lord and nothing about us.

How unusual, I thought, to pray for several minutes without ever asking for anything. It was simply thank you… thank you… thank you.

And it was wise.

“The Lord said… ‘Gather the people to me, that I may let them hear my words, so that they may learn to fear me all the days that they live on the earth, and that they may teach their children so’.” (Deut. 4:10)

 

Who’s who?

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I’ve been enjoying Facebook these last few months, staying up-to-date with friends and relatives through pictures and messages. Although I’ve learned to post photos, leave comments and send private notes, I’ve never learned to “tag” someone.

Facebook tagging tells who’s who in a picture. After you type a name over a face, someone else can then hover their mouse on that person, and like magic the name pops into view. My kids are experts at tagging, and I’ve come to recognize many of their friends I haven’t met, by mouse-hovering.

Although I can’t tag on Facebook, I’ve recently accomplished another kind of tagging, fastening a new nametag on Jack. His old tag, the one with my name, address and phone on it, was worn blank. If he ran off, a rescuer wouldn’t know who to call.

Every night at bedtime, I “undress” Jack by taking off his collar. (He’s got a very thick neck and sleeps better without it.) Last week, however, I went to get him dressed in the morning and couldn’t find his collar. Because we’re renovating at my house, I figured it was buried somewhere in the debris and would eventually turn up.

After three days of hunting, I had only one option left, to ask Jack. “Where’s your collar, buddy?” But he had no suggestions. I hated losing the new tag, his name on one side and my info on the other. All I could figure was I’d had a senior moment and put it in the freezer, my sock drawer or the wood pile. But suddenly, Jack came forth with an answer.

We were walking home from the beach (him naked, me dressed) when he pranced onto a friend’s lawn to sniff. I kept walking, whistling for him to come but eventually backtracking to get him. There he was, firmly planted over his collar in the middle of the yard as if to say, “You asked me, so I’m telling you.” It must have slipped over his head a few days earlier when he’d been snoofing there.

I’m glad God doesn’t need to tag us to know us. He’s known us since before we were born, name and all, and he’ll know us forever. Names are important to him, though, and not just ours.

He promises to deal harshly with anyone who takes his name in vain, and he watches to see if we’ll honor it. He invites us to call on his name for help, to worship his name in reverence, and to fear it as the beginning of wisdom. And he also promises to reward those who genuinely love his name.

I’m happy to report Jack is once again properly dressed, but I’m confident God would know his name, even if he wasn’t tagged.

“Those who feared the Lord spoke with each other, and the Lord listened to what they said. In his presence, a scroll of remembrance was written to record the names of those who feared him and always thought about the honor of his name.” (Malachi 3:16)