Glad to see you!

Put a dog in front of a mirror and he has no interest in looking at himself. But put a 4 month old baby there, and she lights up with excitement.

Emerald can’t rejoice enough at her reflected duplicate. Somehow at this early age she’s figured out that the face in the mirror will change in response to her smile. She’ll grin and giggle at her grinning, giggling reflection until we get tired of holding her up to the mirror.

Noticing... Delighting... Committing!

This charming phenomenon seems to be universal with babies. They’re social beings from the very beginning, genuinely appreciating the responsive expressions of others. There’s only one source for this: the Creator himself. As he “knits them together in their mothers’ wombs” (Psalm 139:13), part of what he does is install a people-oriented piece that causes babies to relate to other faces.

Emerald has the sense to know that if you smile at someone, they’ll smile back at you. Daily she tests it in the mirror, and it works 100% of the time. The same thing happens when she smiles at us. We can’t help but smile back at her.

Why is that? Scripture gives us the answer: “A cheerful look brings joy to the heart.” (Proverbs 15:30) God wired each of us to respond to what we see. And if I would scowl at Emerald, she wouldn’t smile back but might look puzzled or even turn her lower lip down and start to cry.

God watches us closely, and that includes our facial expressions. He’s made our features unique, and the way we use them to express ourselves is probably of interest to him. Surely he’s pleased when we give smiles and “cheerful looks” to others, since it brings them joy as Proverbs says. And beyond all doubt he’s gratified when we turn toward him with a pleasant expression.

But we should check ourselves on that. As we approach Bible reading or church attendance or a prayer time, do we do it because we feel we should? Or because we feel guilty when we don’t? Or do we do it with joy, looking toward the Lord with an expectant smile? Our expressions reflect what’s in our hearts, and the question that should weigh heavily on all of us is, “What will God reflect back to me if I look toward him with dreary obligation or a sense of false guilt?”

Scripture tells us that just as Jesus was a reflection of his Father, we’re to reflect Jesus, not just in facial expressions but in what we do, where we go, who we’re with, what we wear, what we eat, what we think… all of it.

Reflected smile

If we can learn to do that, we can be sure he’ll smile back at us.

“Just as water mirrors your face, so your face mirrors your heart.” (Proverbs 27:19)

Wisdom from Dr. Seuss

The Curington FamilyMy webmaster, son-in-law Adam, is an ongoing blessing to me, not just because he manages GettingThroughThis.com but because he’s a young man walking close to God and through that is a good example to everyone around him. He’s also a dedicated husband to my daughter Linnea and a committed father to Skylar, Micah, and Autumn, all-in on that big job.

Adam has served not only as webmaster but also as my stalwart encourager. Once in a while people mention “my advanced computer skills,” and I quickly deliver the truth. Each web site task has been painstakingly learned through trial and error (think error and more error) at the expense of Adam’s gentle supervision. He doesn’t lose patience with my re-asking the same questions but re-answers as if I’d never asked.

If it wasn’t for Adam, this blog wouldn’t exist, and for more reasons than one, I’m glad it does. If it didn’t, I’d be missing out on the wealth of blessing funneling back through readers. Emails and comments embedded with nuggets of gold go to my “Interesting things to file” folder, an ever-growing file of gems.

And here’s an example:

Linda, a cyber-acquaintance, is traveling through the painful “firsts” of new widowhood after losing her husband of 37 years. She wrote to me of her love for him and how he had put her needs ahead of his own, one of the most difficult tasks anyone can tackle. She misses him intensely but is determined to remain above negativity.

Dr. Seuss Logo

She wrote, “A quote by Dr. Seuss is my new mantra: ‘Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.’ I’m choosing not to be mad at God, and I’m thankful for the love I enjoyed for so long, choosing not to be ungrateful because it ended.”

 

Linda has the right idea: (1) choosing not to be mad at God, and (2) being thankful for her husband’s love.

Interestingly, Step 1 is what opens the door to Step 2. If we indulge in anger toward the Lord, thankfulness will elude us, but as we set aside our natural desire to blame someone, (especially God), gratitude no-matter-what becomes possible.

Each of us have daily opportunities to think and act like Linda. If we make up our minds to be thankful, that outlook empowers us toward additional good things, like giving our time to others, making sure the excluded are included, going out of our way to serve, and like Linda’s John, putting the needs of others ahead of our own.

I’ve got a long way to go to catch Linda, but her fine example proves it’s possible. So I’m starting right now, feeling thankful for:

  • Linda.
  • other widows who’ve shared their stories.
  • 40 years with Nate.
  • a God who has partnered with me through 3½ years of widowhood.
  • Adam, a son-in-law who kindheartedly taught me how to blog.

“Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable.” (Philippians 4:8)

Under His Wings

This picture has been floating around the internet for a couple of years, and I’m not sure where it belongs or who was the original photographer. It’s a classic example of a picture speaking 1000 words, but what is it saying? Is it about protection? Or maybe mother-love? Possibly mentoring? Or patiently waiting? Maybe listening to our elders? Or a willingness to accept protection from someone else?

Under winged protection

When I first saw it, my mind linked up with something Jesus said about the Jews who’d rejected him and his message. His moving statement occurred during the last week of his life when he was already in Jerusalem to sacrifice himself for the sins of mankind. With a heavy heart he faced imminent torture and death, but that didn’t stop him from engaging in a major confrontation with a group of Pharisees who were continuing to harass him, bating him as always.

With intense emotion he squared off with them, detailing their wickedness at  length and calling them hypocrites, snakes, and murderers, condemning them, describing them as greedy, blind, lawless, and self-indulgent. His righteous fury ended with a damning judgment, telling them they wouldn’t escape hell.

Yet even after all of that, his heart was breaking for their souls. His love for these enemies hadn’t wavered even slightly, despite their vindictiveness toward him. It’s at that very moment he spoke the words I thought of when I saw the above bird picture:

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers! How often I have wanted to gather your children together as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let me.” (Matthew 23:37)

I find this extraordinary. It’s possible that a tear might even have been sliding down his cheek as his heart broke over the Pharisees. After all the hatred they’d shown him, and after he’d poured out the truth of their wickedness, his dominating emotion was love.

When I was a child we sang a hymn called “Under His Wings:”

Under His wings I am safely abiding,
Though the night deepens and tempests are wild,
Still I can trust Him; I know He will keep me,
He has redeemed me, and I am His child.

It was a comforting picture of the protection God offers, not necessarily physical protection but protection for our souls, both while on earth and later when in heaven. The birds above symbolize it beautifully, and Jesus spent his ministry offering that same protection to anyone who was willing, even the Pharisees. But as he said himself, they weren’t willing.

“Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy! I look to you for protection. I will hide beneath the shadow of your wings until the danger passes by.” (Psalm 57:1)