Far Far Away

Posted on March 11, 2011 by Margaret

This afternoon I enjoyed an hour on the phone with Nelson when he called from the New Zealand base of Youth With A Mission where he’s working. New Zealand is about as far from Michigan as anyplace, but the connection between our two cell phones was flawless, as if he was calling from next door.

After we talked about incidentals, we got into a meaty conversation about committing our lives to Christ and what that means day-to-day. We agreed it’s a rare moment when any of us is 100% committed. Most of us hold back a few things we’d rather not surrender, leaving us maybe 98% committed. So, is there a loss for such an almost-committed person?

We agreed God usually lets us do our own thing but then might withhold the empowering he was ready to give us if we’d been all-out for him, the Spirit-power to accomplish something amazing with eternal benefit to ourselves or others. We agreed it’s possible to be 100% for a day… or maybe an hour… or more likely two minutes. It’s the thought-life that smudges us and brings us down.

I love talking to Nelson about spiritual things and miss our nightly conversations in front of the fireplace. Actually I miss conversations with all of my kids, especially when we “go deep” like we did today. It’s satisfying to wrestle together with some of life’s thorny issues, particularly when Scripture factors into the discussion.

I like to say I have 7 + 2 + 5 children: 7 kids, 2 in-law children and 5 grandchildren. And 13 of those 14 live far, far away.

Klaus: 1 mile(s)

Lars: 95 “

Birgitta: 255 ”

Linnea and family: 1160 ”

Hans and family: 3941 ”

Louisa: 4418 ”

Nelson: 8838 ”

Today while talking with Nelson, I tried to think away from the knowledge that he was almost 10,000 miles away. Dwelling on the distance of my family members is non-productive. It’s actually unnerving.

A better idea is to enjoy a good cell connection and a lengthy conversation. A wise friend once told me, “Receive what you’re given and don’t wish for more.”

Always wishing for more comes naturally, but unfortunately, that mindset erodes the value of what’s currently being given. It’s also a good example of holding back 2% from God.

I can bellyache about my kids being far away, focusing on the negative, or I can delight in their frequent calls, emails and thoughtful attentions toward me. I can be thankful they work hard at staying current with each other and that no barriers lie between any of us. I can appreciate that each is working hard at a meaningful pursuit. I can rejoice in phone conversations of substance, and be glad they all come home whenever they can.

And tonight I can smile broadly, knowing Birgitta is driving in my direction, as she begins her spring break!

“Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.” (Colossians 3:15)

Believing the Truth

Posted on March 10, 2011 by Margaret

Yesterday while grocery shopping, I bought a box of succulent strawberries. They were bright red, plump and had deep green “mustaches” that weren’t too big. Tonight, after thinking about those berries all day, I fixed myself a generous bowl-full.

As I cut them up, I wondered how they could travel from sunny Florida to snowy Michigan and look like they’d been picked an hour ago. And then I took my first bite. The berries were sour and nearly tasteless, nothing like what they appeared to be. Even a spoonful of sugar didn’t make them go down very well.

It comes naturally to trust in what we see. Eating sour strawberries has no moral consequence, but the principle of believing that everything we see is reliably true can have devastating results. So how do we know what to do?

We need a measuring stick by which to evaluate the choices we make. I think of Nate and his fatal cancer. Although his health declined radically each day, he never once panicked over his approaching death. He was nervous about his escalating pain but made the choice not to question God’s plan for his life, and death.

I find this extraordinary, but his peaceful demeanor wasn’t just an accident. It was the byproduct of a belief in the truth. He put his terminal prognosis next to the measuring rod of what God said, which was that he’d still be alive after he died physically, and that life would be good.

As we get closer to the Easter season, I’ve been thinking about the famous conversation between Jesus and Pilate shortly before Jesus was killed. Pilate, trying to figure out what the Jewish leaders were so upset about, sought clarification from Jesus. The conversation went something like this:

Pilate: Are you the king of the Jews?
Jesus: Is that what you think?
Pilate: I can’t think like a Jew.
Jesus: My kingdom is not of this world.
Pilate: So you are a king, then?
Jesus: I was born to testify to the truth.
Pilate: But what is truth?

Just when Pilate was about to get the answer to that critical question, he terminated the conversation, giving the order to kill Jesus. If Pilate had been listening to Jesus’ teachings during preceding months, he would have heard him answer that last question with the words, “I am… the truth.” (John 14:6)

And that’s where the buck stops. Right at Jesus. Nate believed in something, in someone, he couldn’t see, and that knowledge of unshakeable truth gave him a peace unexplainable by human standards. It wasn’t, “Maybe I’ll be ok after I die,” or “I sure hope I’ll be ok.” It was, “I know for sure I’ll be ok.”

Listening to Jesus and living according to biblical truth isn’t easy and almost always goes contrary to our natural instincts, but if we do it, the end-result will be even sweeter than a bowl of perfect strawberries.

“Jesus answered, ‘Everyone on the side of truth listens to me’.” (John 18:37b)

Believing a Lie

Posted on March 9, 2011 by Margaret

My Mom was a hard worker, doing housework the old fashioned way. She used cloth rags instead of disposables and preferred her own cleaning potions to fancy sprays. She used to say the most practical gift any young bride could receive would be a bag of beautiful, soft rags. I didn’t have the heart to tell her a modern bride wouldn’t think they were beautiful or know what to do with them.

Mom scrubbed her floors on hands-and-knees and didn’t own a mop. “How can you get the corners?” she’d say. Using a rag and being on hands-and-knees made sweeping unnecessary, because she’d pick up bits of debris with her rag and rinse them out in her bucket (leftover wash machine water).

One day she was crawling along her kitchen floor, washing away the results of a visit from six preschool grandchildren. She loved cleaning up after these little people, calling the aftermath “a happy mess.” She’d scrub sticky Jello leftovers off the linoleum and remember the fun of making Jigglers with them. She’d scoop up Cheerios and think about the pudgy baby eating in the high chair.

On this day she came across a stray raisin and thought, “Still in good shape,” and popped it into her mouth. One chew told her she’d made a huge mistake. It wasn’t a raisin at all but the product of a toddler’s diaper.

She dropped her rag and got to the bathroom as fast as she could. But brushing her teeth multiple times with lots of toothpaste couldn’t remove the taste from her mouth or the impression from her brain.

All of us have eaten food off the floor. Well, maybe that’s just our family. But surely everyone has heard of the “Five Second Rule.” If something has been on the floor less than that, it’s safe to eat. Of course Mom’s raisin had been there too long.

But that was only part of the problem. Her “raisin” wasn’t a raisin at all but merely something that appeared to be one. Appearances can be deceiving, and she’d been deceived.

Her experience is a memorable illustration of the way deception works. Our enemy, the devil, is the definitive master of disguises. He lies, cheats and deceives with expertise, cloaking wickedness in goodness. “Go ahead,” he sweet-talks. “It’ll be even better than you think. No one has to know. You deserve to have things go your way for once.”

On and on he coaxes with endless patience, tugging us toward a slimy slope with complete devastation at its end. He never runs out of ideas and uses the exact disguises that are attractive to each one of us, an expert at his craft.

Before we have a chance to check if it’s really a raisin, we’re chewing it.

(Tomorrow: Believing the Truth)

“When the devil lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies. There is no truth in him.” (John 8:44)