Monthly Archives: September 2011

Fairy Tale Living

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When Nate and I got married in 1969, Pastor Sweeting asked each of us for a favorite Bible verse he could incorporate into our wedding ceremony. As a 24-year-old, I looked ahead to the fairy tale life Nate and I would lead, unaware of the twists and turns we would have to take. So I told the pastor my favorite verse was 2 Samuel 22:33: “God is my strength and power, and He makes my way perfect.” And that, along with Nate’s favorite, was the Scripture he used.

Life was perfect back then. I was a bride with a handsome groom looking toward endless bright tomorrows. Although I had only a perfunctory relationship with God, I thought my wedding verse summarized exactly how life would unfold: perfectly. At that moment, “my way was perfect,” though I don’t recall crediting God for any of it.

As the Lord would have it, though, life wouldn’t be the fairy-tale I’d envisioned. He loved me too much not to put some bumps on our road. In his view, hard times would be the reason I’d step closer to him.

Since those idyllic days of 1969, I’ve learned life may have brief moments of fairy tale happiness, but this side of heaven, that can’t be the theme. I’ve also learned that rough patches do have the capacity for joy buried in them.

In 2004 I was asked a second time about my favorite verse. Mom surprised us at her 90th birthday party, arriving with 23 gifts for her 3 children, 3 children-in-law, and 17 grandchildren: a Bible for each one, the style, translation and cover chosen to match the different personalities. Then she said,  “Next year when I turn 91, the only birthday gift I want is for each of you to write down your favorite verse from your new Bible and tell me why.”

I didn’t have to think long. Although 2 Samuel 22:33 is still God’s inspired truth, the verse I’d needed most often in the 35 years since our wedding, had been a different one. Despite my fairy tale expectations in 1969, troubles had, indeed, found us, and I’d needed God’s practical help, as well as a way to find joy within struggles.

I found both by claiming my special verse: James 1:5.

“If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.”  

God hopes his Word will come in handy for us. He says it’s alive and able to empower us to get through each dilemma that comes. As we use Scripture for everyday purposes we’re actually linking up with eternity, because God’s Word is established in heaven.

And maybe when we get there, instead of relying on one favorite verse, we’ll automatically have the whole Bible memorized, a grand finale’ unmatched by any fairy tale.

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.” (Matthew 24:35)

The Death of Summer

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Some people favor autumn over other seasons, but many more prefer summer with its beach-worthy days and balmy evenings. I’m in that camp.

Last week my kitchen thermometer dipped into the 30’s overnight, unseasonably cold for the Midwest in early September. It was a glimpse of much colder days immediately ahead. Although September is lovely, it prompts sadness over August’s demise.

Today when Jack and I went walking on the beach, 20 mph winds whipped around us, and I was glad to be zipped into a winter coat. Temperatures weren’t extreme, still in the high 50’s, but the beach felt chilly. I laughed, remembering how the same temperature feels warm in April or May. When it gets “that warm,” we dig out our capris and sandals. I suppose that’s because in spring we still have our winter skins on, after muscling through bona fide cold.

Now it’s time to get used to falling temps again, and that doesn’t feel so good. The same holds true for life’s emotionally cold, harsh seasons.

Once in a while God lets winter winds buffet us, causing us to mourn the loss of warmer, cheerier times. We’re forced to leave a pleasantly warm emotional season and enter a ruthless cold one, usually against our wishes. My many new widow friends feel this way. None were ready to say goodbye to their men or to go-it-alone. But God allowed death to come anyway, and each wife found herself in the unwelcome season of widowhood.

Some of the women tried to bargain with God: “Please, Lord, don’t take my husband! If you do, then take me, too. I can’t possibly live without him.”

A few prayed, “Transfer his illness to me. Do anything you want to me, but just don’t take him!” And yet God did, bringing in a wintry season of deep loneliness and forced change.

So they struggled along, doing what had to be done, feeling what had to be felt. Then one day they realized they’d found a bit of relief from grief, and after the first year, actually felt hopeful. This isn’t to say they’d stopped missing their men. But signs of spring’s emotional thaw began at about that time, and “I can’t” slowly moved to “I can.”

This is true for most of life’s crises. Time spent squaring off with the undesirable changes and tackling the new beginnings gradually mitigates the negative impact. And one day, a widow who said, “Oh, Lord, anything but that!” finds herself smiling again as her heart moves into a new summer season.

God allowed her to experience winter winds, but he was also faithful to bring spring blossoms. So when we’re tempted to grieve the passing of our favorite season, we should remind ourselves God will eventually bring it around again, outside our windows and inside our hearts.

“I will send down showers in season; there will be showers of blessing. They [his people] will live in safety, and no one will make them afraid.” (Ezekiel 34:26b,28b)

 

A Grain of Salt

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For the longest time I didn’t know what the strange looking, igloo-like buildings alongside Chicago expressways were all about. Several years ago I asked Nate if he knew.

“For salt,” he said. “The salt used on streets during the winter is stored there.” That explained the trucks and snowplows lined up outside each building.

Salt is a beautiful thing, forming in crystals made by God’s laws of nature, some so eye-catching they look like valuable art. But salt is more commonly known as a work-horse mineral. Among its uses:

  •      Flavoring food
  •      Enhancing thyroid function
  •      Making ice cream
  •      Preserving things
  •      Cleansing things
  •      Melting ice

 

That last one is made possible on Chicago roads only because salt is cheap. The earth has a great deal of it, and it’s easy to mine. So it’s shipped from faraway places on barges and trains, and stored in the dome-like buildings along local expressways, then flung on the roads before and during snowstorms.

Scripture actually mentions road salt. In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus said that salt can lose its flavor. His listeners knew the importance of pure salt, not just to enhance food but in reference to temple sacrifices. The Old Testament repeatedly mentions the covenant of salt, the offerings of salt, and the purity of salt.

Jesus’ sermon compares the positive aspects of salt to the way Christians can effectively represent the kingdom of God. And then he gets to the road salt. Apparently if pure salt is mixed with other chemicals, it becomes un-salty. It’s no longer good for use with food or as a sacrifice, or in any other way. It might as well be thrown on the ground and trampled (or driven over). Then he applied this image to believers who leave others with a bad taste in their mouths about him and his kingdom.

When salt is brought to the storage “igloos” in Chicago, it’s sometimes dumped in through a ceiling hole by way of a conveyor belt. Workmen know the exact slope of the natural pile-up of this road salt, which is the same shape of the buildings: an angle of 32 degrees. The entire space can be filled with salt for efficient, maximum storage.

Jesus wants those of us who’ve entrusted our lives to him to be maximizing our influence for him and to be efficient representatives of his ways and his Word. Just like the domes are completely filled with salt, we’re to be fully filled with him, demonstrating how “tasty” the Christian life can be. He wants us to represent him in ways that are uncontaminated by the world and palatable to non-believers.

Instead of being like road salt, useful only to walk on and drive over, we’re to be like table salt, making others thirsty for more.

 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be… trampled underfoot.”  (Matthew 5:13)