ROOTED

Well....this weed had a deep “foundation”--and I'm glad the soil was moist enough that I could “liberate it” from further growth without leaving the root in the soil to propagate again. I'm sure you've seen—as I have—homes in the community where weeds have taken over. I pass by one nearly every week, the once-trim lawn now thigh-high in weeds. I know that house, in and out. Back in my single days (the early 1970s) I rented a bedroom there for a winter. At that time it had orange shag rug, and my roommates had a dog who thought that rug was a dandy location for its, uh, “bathroom duties.” But, I digress...

Driving past it now—overwhelmed by weeds and more—I remember our  “renter duties” of mowing and weeding. We kept it 'lookin' good." Now when I see an unkempt house, I think of several reasons “why.” Sometimes it's in an estate situation—the owner deceased, the inheritance knotted up in probate issues. Or it may be owner-occupied, and that owner unwell or just doesn't care. Or, third choice, a rental, with an absentee owner who, well, just doesn't care as long as the occupants pay the rent.

Bear with me for the analogy, but I wonder if our Lord looks over His world and finds hearts that are spiritually unkempt, full of the weeds of bad habits, sloth, anger, or indifference. I remember this principle: “For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11). If the body-and-mind-house (our flesh-blood-thinking “selves”) doesn't have Jesus in residence and in control, it often shows in what we present outwardly to the world through our demeanor and words.

That seems to be a common theme in letters that the apostle Paul wrote to fledgling churches. Besides the one at Corinth (mentioned above which had its share of worldly “habits” to change) there were believers at Colossae (in modern-day Turkey), who got this Pauline reminder: “So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness” (Colossians 2:6-7).

In other words, the inner character that is revealed in our “outward lives”--as the soil yields either a mess of weeds or a groomed, cared-for lawn—is what the world sees. It's also how the world regards the difference that a faith “rooted” in the Lord Jesus Christ as Savior can make in our inside/outside "person."

Come to think about, one alternative to a cared-for lawn is one overwhelmed by crab grass. And it's hard to be “overflowing with thankfulness” if you've got weeds of crabby discontent in your life. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go out and dig some weeds out of my real lawn.

TAKING IT DAY-BY-DAY

The plume visible from my street on 10/6

As I write this in early-October, my valley is “on alert” with smoke-filled skies from major, spreading mountain fires. Even this evening, as the sun sets in the west, the clouds are washed gray, pink and orange from the smoke pollution. As I study the sky, I recall the years we survived arson-set fires at my end of town. As flames came closer, we stayed alert via the local radio station for evacuation orders. One night was especially scary—we were ready to load the car with “survival essentials” and leave--but the fire was stopped just blocks from our home.

During active fire season, the saying “day by day” becomes especially poignant. Though my hometown was first established in dry, “high desert” terrain, it's now a river-bisected valley known for its apples and other crops nurtured by irrigation systems. Sometimes that connection reminds me of the Living Water, the Lord Jesus, who refreshes us and nurtures the spiritual fruit within us.

Often, the best way to describe this growing faith-walk is “day by day,” also the title of a hymn that has been close to my heart for years. The lyrics came from the heart of a Swedish woman, Lina Sandell Berge, a pastor's daughter who endured poor health as a child. She was especially close to her father. Sadly, when she was 26, she watched in horror as he fell overboard from a passenger boat and drowned. She later married, but her only child died at birth.

Yet God's grace shone through her life tragedies. She would eventually write more than 650 hymns that enriched the Pietist revivals in Sweden in the late 19^th century. Her hymn, “Day by Day,” is one of my favorites. When sadness from my losses begins to cloud my hope, I find myself recalling its tune and lyrics, like these which open the hymn:

Day by day, and with each passing moment,

Strength I find to meet my trials here.

Trusting in my Father's wise bestowment,

I've no cause for worry or for fear.

The hymn goes on to declare that God, whose “heart is kind beyond all measure,” permits what happens each day, both “pain and pleasure, mingling toil with peace and rest.”

Hope despite the heat of destruction. Something beautiful and eternal beyond the ravages of earthly life. Faith beyond life's fiery times. Beauty from ashes. Lived...day by day.

Just an aside: the hymnist's surname “Berge” is in my family tree. My maternal grandfather, Martinus Berge, who died just before I was born, had immigrated from Norway. 

RUNNING LIFE'S REAL RACE

My town's high school track (now fenced, I presume, to prevent vandalism) has served generations of students and local “walkers” who made their way around its red oval. It's no surprise that running has been around for a long time as a competitive sport. Nor that the Bible used that skill and sport to illustrate spiritual principles, like perseverance, faith, and the Christian journey. Among them:

RUN YOUR ABSOLUTE BEST. Of course getting first place is “the best,” but there's also an honorable goal called “your personal best.” Not everybody can stand on the top podium at awards time, but a race means you run. Thus the apostle Paul observed: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it” (1 Cor. 9:24-27).

FORGET—BUT DON'T FORGET—THE WATCHING CROWD. Yes, I know that seems to contradict itself. The watching, cheering crowd send energy and determination into our performance. They want to see us do our best. And when I read Hebrews 12:2, I think of more than just the spectators at an athletic event. Instead, in the great Race of Life, we're representing family—that on earth and that in heaven: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out of us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.”

RESIST DISTRACTIONS. It's easy to get sidetracked when you look off to the crowd. “Where are mom and dad? Where's my girlfriend/boyfriend/best friend?” Or, moral choices, like: “That little sin won't make a difference. Who will know? Who will see?” But God sees it all, allowing us in His wisdom to make stupid choices. Galatians 5:7 speaks to this: “You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth?”

SEEK THE ENDURANCE GOD CAN SUPPLY. Those who run to win somehow reach deep inside to do better than their former best. “They who wait upon the Lord,” begins Isaiah 40:31, “shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles.” The movie industry gave us a picture of that in re-enacting the 1924 Paris Olympics run of Scotsman Eric Liddell, portrayed in the 1981 film “Chariots of Fire.” He'd trained for the 100-meter race, but before race day learned its heats would be held on a Sunday. A devout Christian, Liddell refused to compete on the Lord's Day. Instead, he signed for the 400-meter race—far more grueling. Yet, he won, with an Olympic record. And then, he retired from Olympics training to become a missionary in China.

Years later, while in China, someone asked if he regretted not making another try for Olympics fame. He replied: “It's natural for a chap to think over all that sometimes, but I'm glad I'm at the work I'm engaged in now. A fellow's life counts for far more at this than the other.” He would die in his 43^rd year of an undiagnosed brain tumor. But his testimony of honoring Christ in life's Real Race still inspires.

"DO NOT CALL?"

I did the grumpy and responsible thing: opted in to the “Do Not Call” (DNC) registry to try to slow down the flood of unwanted solicitor phone calls. But still they came, like a mud slide that keeps oozing down into the abyss of frustration. (Picturesque analogy, right?)
    So, is it worth it? The website explaining the “DNC” rule admits it has “limited effectiveness," as the registry says it mostly targets "legitimate telemarketers" but “may not prevent calls from scammers or robo calls.” Plus, after registering, calls can still come from charities, political groups, surveys, and debt collectors. And, I'd add, mean people who spoof emergency situations.
    I'm glad that God is “on call,” “receiving prayer calls,” and knowing the real thing from the spoofs. Also, that Heaven's phone system (Paradise Phone Co.?) isn't bound by rules and regulations except for those reflecting His love, His presence, and His kindness. I “hear” that between the lines in a Bible verse many have memorized:
“Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know” (Jeremiah 33:3)
    Like any Bible verse, this one can have its meaning twisted and wrongly used. Historically, it came to Jeremiah while he was imprisoned by a king who didn't like the prophet's negativity. It was God's word of encouragement to a prophet who gave everything he had back to God in obedience, only to end up as a despised prisoner. This message wasn't a current “status report,” but a prophecy of a future nation of joy, peace and abundance, with the gracious, loving rule of a Messiah.
    Bear in mind how fantastic and unbelievable this prophecy must have been back in Jeremiah's time. His 40-year ministry included the fall of Jerusalem in 586 BC. How badly the people of his time needed a dose of hope!
    The “calls” that Jeremiah and his contemporaries heard from other lands were threatening. Abusive calls. Worse than the “wanna-get-your-valuable-cardit-card-ID” calls that our culture's “junk callers” thrive on. Although it may not happen in my lifetime (though it could), the spam call “system” with its threatening and dubious intentions--along with all the allure and wrongness of fallen culture in general--will someday end with Christ's return. Let's call that 1-800-TOP-HOPE.

NOT-SO-SIMPLE SYNONYMS

One of the books on my desk reference shelf is called “The Synonym Finder.” I bought it back in college years when my English major mandated using such a reference work. If you're hopping along writing an essay and find yourself stuck for just the right WORD, this is the place to go. All 1,388 pages of it! Of course, it presumes you're an English speaker who knows enough of nuances of words that you won't pick one that just doesn't fit your meaning.

I think of that when I read Psalm 19, which is well-known for its synonyms for scripture and what it does in our lives. They spill out starting at verse 7 (as translated in the NIV):

The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul.

The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy, making wise the simple.

The precepts of the LORD are right, giving joy to the heart.

The commands of the LORD are radiant, giving light to the eyes.

The fear of the LORD is pure, enduring forever.

The ordinances of the LORD are sure, and altogether righteous.

All these, the psalmist says, are “more precious than gold, than much pure gold; they are sweeter than honey, than honey from the comb.” It's easy to skip over these two comparisons. Gold is painstakingly taken from ancient rock veins and from eroded areas along rivers called “placers.” (Remember reading about California's “Gold Rush” of the mid-1800s, and frenzied, grizzled men swishing their pans along certain rivers they'd “staked” to pan for riches?) Gold has also been discovered in meteorites and oceanic vents.

As for the preciousness of honey, let's say it's not as easy to produce as, say, carrots. Today's honey—nature's “gold”--is “harvested” from its buzzing-bee-guarded incubator hive by someone wearing protective clothing and a veiled hat. In David's days, they didn't have such “garb,” and probably bee-farmers had their share of bee-warfare wounds.

But Psalm 19 is about more than adjectives for scripture. It's about obedience. It described scripture as “warnings” (v. 11), able to reveal our “hidden faults,” “willful sins” and behavior that threaten to “rule over me” (v. 12). That sounds like the biography of King David—and indeed, he is credited with the psalm!

Ever thought about the concluding verse?

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer. (v. 14)

So much is packed in that closing. Our minds (hearts), and what comes out of our minds and emerges through our mouth, really matter. Kind, true and caring words (the focus of this psalm) should be my “mouth-set,” not the negatives I might hear from others in my daily tasks. They should be honoring of (v. 14) my Rock and Redeemer.

REMEMBERING....

Okay, so I'm a Mom Photoholic. The short hall between bedrooms and living room in my home is a portrait gallery, with family photos nearly all the years since our 1981 marriage. Yep, wedding photo, then with a newborn and then a second baby, all the way through their graduations, weddings and grandchildren. Some were taken by local photographers (like ones who long-ago worked out of corners of Wal-Mart, Penney's, and Sears!). Others came off personal cameras. My “recliner-rocker,” diagonally across the living room, has a full view of the “gallery.” Just about every day, from my recliner viewpoint, I look across and silently pray, “Thank you, Lord, for your faithfulness of 'family.'”

The last “family photo” was taken three months before my husband died. But that doesn't mean more “family chapters” aren't being written. Recently in reading Psalm 143, I paused at this verse:

I remember the days of long ago; I meditate on all your works and consider what your hands have done. (Psalm 143:5)

What's not being captured on a camera is still being captured in my heart.

In reading psalms, I'm mindful of the beginning attributions of many chapters. Psalm 143 doesn't have one but it speaks plaintively in verse 3 of being pursued by an enemy and having to “dwell in darkness” (likely meaning a cave). Obviously, David's referring to being pursued by murder-focused King Saul. But that verse is followed up by one beginning “I remember,” quoted above.

Despite his dire circumstances, David wasn't stuck in memories of “life the way it used to be.” He admitted feeling glum and weary of his negative circumstances:

Answer me quickly, O Lord, my spirit faints with longing. Do not hide your face from me or I will be like those who go down to the pit. (v. 7)

BUT....he quickly switches to hope:

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.” (v. 8)

The contrasts of hopelessness and hope, of dark and light, endear this psalm to me. I haven't had to literally hide in a cave from an enemy. (The closest I got to a “cave” were two “basement bedroom” living situations when I was still single!) But I've endured difficult life chapters with challenging people. At such times I understood and claimed David's closing verse in that psalm:

For your name's sake; O LORD, preserve my life; in your righteousness, bring me out of trouble. In your unfailing love, silence my enemies...for I am your servant (v. 12).

David may have had to dwell temporarily in caves, but he was no gruff  “caveman of old.” His outlook was “up”--to a heavenly Father—who knew exactly what was going on and had great plans for David. In time, He would answer as David prayed:

Teach me to do your will, for you are my God; may your good Spirit lead me on level ground. (v. 10)

Maybe that's a good description of my “family portrait wall” Year by year, the children grew older (as did their parents). We had good years, and bad years (like the year we were nearly killed by a drunk driver). But the photos continue to remind me: He has never forsaken me. And my heart is stirred to praise.

SPLAT!

My garage door recently sported some modern art before I used a wet rag to wipe it off. Either a feathered friend mistook the door's blue paint for sky or just wasn't paying attention to its route. I didn't find a dead bird nearby, so I hope he only suffered a slightly bruised chest and got on with life in the sky. I was fairly certain the bird wouldn't look for a wet rag to clean it up—so I did.

The unwelcome mess reminded me of other “splats” I'd experienced—the “splats” of mean and hurtful words. I'm not the type to go around yelling and insulting people in person or in written or virtual form. Yet for some reason, another's untrue and unsought mean words found their target with me. When I reacted, they retorted with excuses like, “I'm sorry you feel that way,” “You're too sensitive,” or “I didn't mean it like that.” Such replies attempted to bounce blame back onto me rather than acknowledging their own negative behavior causing the problem.

Weary of “splats,” I finally wrote this person a letter (which others read beforehand to assure its “kindness” tone), expressing how their anger and false accusations wounded me. After my backing away from that relationship, the "splats" decreased. 

Abandoning relationships isn't my to-go behavior. I thought of how patient Jesus was with people with problems. But when people in Jesus' life (like the Pharisees) persisted in their negatives, He drew a holy line. In my case, after prayer and seeking scripture's wisdom, I sensed the Lord permitting me to let go. His command to “love one another” didn't mandate being a continual negative target. Instead, putting down relationship “boundaries” might awaken reality in a person who habitually vented their unhappiness on others. Or who tossed out a “sorry” reply without the backup of personal reflection or accountability to change.

These times of computers and smart phones, we often hear the saying, “There's an 'ap' for that,” meaning you can download virtual instructions to achieve a task. I find “aps” for quitting “splats” throughout scripture, especially in Proverbs, which speaks so honestly to human behaviors:

Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. (Proverbs 16:24)

Better a patient man than a warrior, a man who controls his temper [my translation: doesn't go 'splat'] than one who takes a city. (Proverbs 16:32)

A man of knowledge uses words with restraint, and a man of understanding is even-tempered. (Proverbs 17:27)

Anti-splat instructions aren't limited to Proverbs. They're illustrated throughout scripture's stories and counsel, with healing words given a five-star rating:

Do not let any unwholesome [the Greek term is “saphros,” meaning “putrid”] talk come out of your mouth, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen (Ephesians 4:29)

The same passage gets painfully specific about a Christ-follower getting rid of “bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice” (v. 31).

Splat! Think of the, well, “body waste” a bird gifted my garage door. The cure is a cleansing cloth dipped in kindness, compassion, and forgiveness—remembering our own Cross-purchased gift of forgiveness from the Lord Jesus Christ (v. 32).