Yearly Archives: 2013

A-Z

Posted on by

Katie and her mom PamToday my friend Pam came over, along with her daughter Katie. Since they live in Denver, this coming-over was very special, an event that’s happened only a handful of times since Pam and I left college in 1967. These two ladies have criss-crossed the country to the tune of 5000 Jeep-miles, dropping in on people who’ve had a part in supporting Katie’s missionary commitment with Wycliffe Bible Translators. Thankfully my house was on their route, and we enjoyed sharing conversation and hot soup on this snowy winter day.

Pam remembered Lake Michigan as being the first really-big lake she’d ever seen (during our Wheaton years), so despite their tight travel agenda, after lunch the three of us made a quick trip to the beach. In an effort to save time, Katie volunteered to drive her Jeep to the lake, confident a fresh foot of snow wouldn’t hinder us.

But confident or not, most of life skips over Plan A and moves directly to B, C, and beyond. After a refreshing visit to the beach, we headed back to the Jeep through snow deeper than the underside of the car. Then as we tried to move forward (as well as back and forth), gravity slid us sideways.

We landed inches from a row of sharp rocks that threatened to slice our spinning tires, but Pam and Katie (seasoned travelers) were well prepared with two military-style shovels. As a result, our story had a happy ending, but we could easily have spun against the rocks, unable to move at all (Plan C), or found ourselves Googling “tire stores” for an evening of unplanned shopping and expense (Plan D).

No one is very good at predicting the unknown, which includes everything beyond the present moment. As those unknowns become known, sometimes we’re forced to pass through different Plans almost as fast as a child can sing the A-B-C song.

Plan B

This afternoon Pam, Katie, and I had no desire for a Plan B, which included kneeling in deep snow and bending beneath car bumpers to speed-shovel the snow away from 4 tires. But we did it in an attempt to revisit Plan A rather than miss the travelers’ afternoon and evening appointments in Chicago.

This time, against the usual odds, that worked. After digging out, we proceeded with confidence, and the Jeep lurched from the drifts onto the road, allowing my visitors to get to Chicago on time.

But what about when lettered plans move through the alphabet faster than we can adjust to them? That’s when our only choice is to surrender to the Plan-maker who will show us how to view Plans A-B-C-D not as steps down but as stepping stones to the higher ground he has in mind for us. In his mind, each revision is progress.

And he doesn’t even require a 4WD to move forward.

“Lord…. in perfect faithfulness you have done wonderful things, things planned long ago.” (Isaiah 25:1)

Memories are made of this.

Posted on by

  • 3 cousinsMake new friends,
  • And keep the old.
  • The one is silver
  • And the other gold.

The week just past has been golden. My sister and I are close-in-heart to three cousins (Gloria, Patti, and Jan) who live 2000 miles away. In addition to being our relatives, they’re also our friends. Old friends, gold friends, of 60+ years. And they were just here for a visit.

In the last few days we’ve shared one adventure after another. For people our ages, ordinary living can escalate into excitement without too much trouble. Take electronic tasks, for example. Buying tickets on line, hooking a computer to a TV, and transferring photos electronically all led to good memory-making and sometimes even success.

Electronic wizardsBattling file transfers

Throughout the week we’ve been stockpiling memories, not because we’ve spent lots of money, filled the agenda with events, or pursued unique thrills. All we did was come together with a loose plan to learn the latest about each other.

Anyone can successfully make good memories with relatives or friends if they’re willing to do two things: spend time and expend effort. If we expect to grow closer to our favorite people, we have to commit to those two things.

This is true even with God.

If we want to steadily become closer to him as a Friend and Relative and make fresh memories with him, it requires the expense of time and our making the effort.

Gloria, Jan, and Patti put forth a major effort to travel across the country for this visit: clearing busy schedules, making arrangements to be absent from their homes, paying for plane tickets, and adjusting to the changes of three time zones. Mary and I do the same when we visit them in California. Are these memory-making trips worth it? All 5 of us nod simultaneously.

Pedestal

The loftier question is how much arranging and adjusting are we willing to do to make fresh memories with God? Are we content to merely put him on a pedestal and worship from a distance? Or are we so excited about his invitation to be his friend that we’re willing to carve out time and make a wholehearted effort to pursue that?

Gloria, Jan, and Patti left for their homes today, and after a week together, we’re now up-to-date all-around. Our memory banks are full with new understanding of what each is thinking and what specific challenges each is facing. During scores of hours we shared our hearts with one another, which included current hopes and dreams. As a result, now that we have all the new info, each of us knows how to better connect with the others, as well as how to pray more effectively.

Cousins

But are we just as eager to connect with God on such an intimate level? He’s got the time and will make the effort, if we will. And when we’re willing, the result will be pure gold.

“A friend loves at all times.” (Proverbs 17:17)

Hard Times

Posted on by

On the trikeWhen I was 5 years old, I was still riding an old tricycle but passionately longed for a two-wheeler “like the big kids” and would have done anything to get one. Then someone at school put the word “possibility” on my dream when she told me if I sold a bunch of newspaper subscriptions, I could earn myself a bike for free!

I wasn’t sure what a subscription was but knew I could figure out how to sell them if it meant I’d end up with a new bike! From that day forward, I began pestering my parents with the idea. Although they didn’t think I could do it, they got tired of my badgering and eventually agreed to make the arrangements.

Going door-to-door in our neighborhood was safe for a 5 year old in 1950, and it didn’t take long before I’d sold enough subscriptions (20) to earn the bicycle. I’ll never forget the beauty of that big classy bike with its shiny maroon paint. It was too tall for me to do anything but stand as I rode, but that didn’t matter. We were perfect together.

New Schwinn

It wasn’t long before I begged Mom to let me take it to school, even though we lived just across a field from there and usually walked. I wanted to ride the long way around on the road, like other kids did, and finally Mom said yes.

But that day, some time during school hours, my bike was stolen. It disappeared from the bike rack without a trace, and I was devastated. Dad called the police and filed a report, but my beautiful new bike was never found.

All of us can point to raw experiences in our childhoods, and sometimes the resulting wounds fester for years. Although there are far worse things than getting a bike stolen, it was a big deal at the time. Looking back on a broken-hearted little girl, I could say, “Where was God when a thief made off with that bike?”

We could ask the same question about every injustice in this world today, but his answer would always be the same: “I was right here where I’ve always been.”

The fact that God doesn’t stop all injustice doesn’t mean he’s choosing to be mean to us. It can only be that he sees a positive purpose in each negative challenge. Not that child abuse or other travesties are positive. Of course not! But running to the Lord whenever we feel crushed by circumstances is always an uplifting thing to do. If we’ve been wounded, he stands ready to heal with comfort.

As for me, after my bike disappeared I couldn’t summon up enough enthusiasm to start selling all over again. Instead I played upon two sympathetic parents who eventually bought me another bike. But nice as it was, it never compared to the love I felt for my first two-wheeler.

“You, God, tested us… We went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance.” (Psalm 66:10,12)