Hairy Decisions

I am a “kitchen barber” who is often called for buzz-duty as the world is waking up. That way my only client (hubby) can take his morning shower right after I run the clipper over his head to restore it to the quarter-inch hair-length he prefers. Forget the hype of shampoo ads. You don’t need much for stubble maintenance. Our utilitarian approach to one’s crowning glory is why one of the long-time family jokes about vanity concerns hair. About fifteen years ago, a young woman who visited us got into a conversation (somehow) about hair products. As she told how she uses only the very best, she flipped her long tresses and said, “My hair is important to me.” We nodded politely. She hadn’t seen what’s on our tub ledge: cheap stuff, usually bought on sale with a coupon.

Apparently hair was important to the apostle Paul, too, as he prepared to leave Achaia (Greece) for Jerusalem on his second missionary journey. Acts 18:18 says he was in Corinth’s eastern port city, Cenchrea, when he had his hair cut “because of a vow he had taken.” Scholars say this was a “Nazirite vow,” detailed in Numbers 6 for those who sought to focus in a special way on God’s calling. The Bible’s most infamous “Nazirite” was Samson, who didn’t live up to all the vow’s requirements, which included (besides letting one’s hair grow out) avoiding wine and contact with dead bodies. Oh yes, focusing on purity, which went downhill when Delilah came into view. Though it wasn’t required of Christians, Paul apparently reached back into his Jewish heritage for an outward reminder of his need of God’s empowerment in mission work in Macedonia and Corinth. Now, his second mission trip nearing a conclusion, he was ready to end the vow, recognizing that God had indeed heard his prayers for help.

Paul didn’t follow all the rules for the Nazirite vow, which included bringing a sacrifice to the “tent of meeting” (by then the temple in Jerusalem) and having his hair cut on the spot to toss on the altar with the slain animal. He wouldn’t reach Jerusalem for weeks, after some side trips to what’s now the country of Turkey. Rather than getting all hung up on the rules of an Old Testament act of consecration, here’s the part of the whole “hairy” experience worth considering. When faced with a calling bigger than we could ever think of doing on our own, are we ready to seek the Lord with honest earnestness, admitting our dependence on Him? Maybe this was behind Paul’s statement in a letter to one of the churches he left behind in Achaia (Greece). By now a prisoner in Rome, he wrote the church at Philippi, “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6, emphasis added).

And here’s another idea for applying the de-hairing principle. Do we care more about how we look on the outside than what’s inside, at soul level? Are we willing to God trim, shave, or even uproot the shaggy sins hiding there? Soul-care should be very important to us.

Night light

Not just any night light would do for Zach—or so I learned one night as I tucked my toddler son in bed. As a no-frills parent (for the most part), I’d picked up a cheap, basic-white night light to allay those inevitable fears in the night. For several months it served well. Then came the night it wasn’t good enough. He’d enjoyed a bath with his favorite rubber ducky and “Bucky Beaver” washcloth. We had “story time” and prayed, or as much as possible with a toddler who barely talked. Then, to my surprise at “lights-out,” he fussed about his night light. To answer my “what’s wrong?” he toddled out of bed, found a certain sale catalog in the paper stack, and pointed out to me the ad for a green “glow worm”-character night light.

“You want that?” I asked. His very serious toddler face told me I’d figured it out. “Tomorrow, I’ll go to the store,” I said. “Not tonight.” I wasn’t sure if my voice sounded like the whomp womp womp of adults in Peanuts cartoons, but he seemed assured. How did he ever decide his life wouldn’t be complete without this nightlight? I guess either his dad or I had used this sale circular for lap time reading, maybe to point out names of items in the ad as part of language building. A photo became a “want.” He grew up with that night light glowing for years in his bedroom. It even went to college. Now it’s in a kitchen outlet of the home he shares with his wife. Seeing it when I visit them makes me smile to think of his very young consumer choices.

I also think about my older-adult needs for a “night light.” Yes, I need the “real thing” in the hall for nighttime treks to the bathroom, to keep me from falling over the cat who sometimes sleeps right in the middle of the hall. I also need a spiritual “night light” for life’s dim and dark places. I depend on the assuring presence of One who called Himself the Light of the World, who said He would never leave me nor forsake me.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation,” David proclaimed (Psalm 27:1). Long one of my favorite psalms, it’s full of rich and encouraging images of God’s protection and sustaining power. I consider my unworthiness as the psalmist speaks of God’s searchlight on my heart (verses 7-12). Then I find comfort in the confident claim of God’s trustworthiness in turmoil and trouble, even when the solution to our problems seems slow in coming: “I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.”

My favorite part of the psalm is verse 4, where David writes of gazing “on the beauty of the Lord.” It always makes me pause in wonder of what’s ahead in Heaven. I know this: no night lights needed. All will be bright as we behold the glory of God!

Love's Point of View

A major river curves through the valley town I call home. The view is magnificent from the foothills, especially a spot that’s well-earned its reputation as “lover’s leap.” Not that local lovers actually leap (as did some historical lovers elsewhere, giving us the nickname)--but you get the picture. I like the view from there during the daytime, as it takes my heart to the opening verse of Psalm 121: “I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”

In recent blogs I have used photos of natural things--swamps, rocks, birds, and paths—for often it’s in the midst of God’s creation that we re-encounter the truths about Him. Psalm 121 is just one example. Years ago I shared with a friend how its imagery of "looking up to the hills" helped me during uncertainty and loss. Later, she wrote me how much she appreciated thinking of the psalm that way. In verses 1 and 2, “looking up” reminds us of how we instinctively look “up” to heaven, and also recalls how Christ ascended to Heaven through a cloud until He was seen no more. Though we don’t know Heaven’s location, God has given us the visual of “up.” “The hills” are a symbol of strength—God Himself, who orchestrates whatever help we need through circumstances and through the human agents of spiritual leaders, other believers, family and friends.

Starting with verse 3, the psalmist affirms God’s character and trustworthiness. It’s helpful to remember that this psalm was one of the “ascent” songs that pilgrims sang as they “ascended” into the highlands where Jerusalem was situated. In those days of primitive transportation through hostile areas, anything could have happened. Feet could slip on rocky, narrow trails. Travelers could be attacked while asleep at night beside the road (Psalm 91:5 alludes to this, too). They could get dehydrated and sick as they traveled on hot days. But, says verses 7-8, they depended on God to keep watch over them.

Reality check: what about the old question of why bad things happen to good people? Jesus clarified the answer in Matthew 10:28: “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in hell.” God is not the author of sickness, suffering or death. If they come into our lives, it is with His permissive will to accomplish His higher purposes. Everything filters through His loving hands.

Especially at this time of year, when our world puts a sentimental and materialistic spin on "love," we need to remember that human love fails us. Valentine's Day can be painful. Not everyone will get a card, flowers, candy, jewelry, or whatever else is advertised out there. There may be heart-breaking loss or hopes that were never fulfilled, making this commercial holiday especially painful. That's why we need to keep the big picture in mind. We need to look up to the One Who knows our comings and goings, and Who anticipates our final coming to Heaven to live with Him forever.

The "point of view" of God's love has no equal. Our Heavenly Lover awaits for us to leap in faith into His arms!

Seven Habits of Effective Friend-Seekers

The electronic wizardry that allows me to post a blog on the internet has a behind-the-curtain feature that tells me how many have viewed a certain blog entry. The top two for this blog include “Give and Take: A Guide to Friendship” (January 10, 2011) and a humorous takeoff on a bestselling book, “Seven Habits of Highly Distracted People” (June 8, 2010). I’ve concluded that readers wanted something practical and something fun. This week I’m combining some practical suggestions for friendship with some, well, “whiskered wisdom.”

We’d taken our cat to the vet for treatment of a badly infected paw. Now, restricted to the indoors and doomed to wear the hated head cone to curb his licking the wound, he perched in the window with a dejected slump. If it’s possible to read cat body language, his said, “I hate my life. Nobody likes me.”

I’ve long heard the saying, “A dog is a man’s best friend.” But cats don’t quite fit the dog mold. Most dogs (some exceptions—like the dog that bit me!) communicate by licks and tail-wags, “I want to be your best buddy.” Cats, on the other hand, are famously aloof. Ours turns his back on us, ignoring our “kitty-kitty” calls unless he gets a whiff of his favorite cat food. His mouth is a permanent frown and his only clues of pleasure are purring and digging his claws into us when we brush him.

If human instead of feline, our cat would find challenges making friends. Maybe that’s why his neighborhood “playmates”(rather, war-mates) are bad-mannered cats I’ve nicknamed “Pancho Villa” and “Ho Chi Minh.” When he comes in from territorial wanderings, life is all about him: feed me, brush me, let me sleep.

It’s the “all about me” mentality that often hampers people from making friends. Instead, friendship requires some deliberate and sometimes risky steps. The how-to resources abound--from “wiki-how” articles, to books, to the thousands of booklets about making friends sold by columnist “Dear Abby.” Their advice condenses to this simple phrase: It’s not about me, it’s about others. We can’t expect people to walk up to us and say, “I want to be your best friend forever.” It’s a back-and-forth effort that takes some basic social skills. Among the top seven:

1. Spend time around people. We’re not cats, who shut out the world for 13-16 hours a day sleeping. We simply need to be around people, not stay at home in solitary activities. That may mean attending a church, volunteering, or joining a club, sports team or music group—something where you can interact with people. Muster the courage to say to someone, “I’m new around here. My name is…”

2. Smile with eye contact. Remember, cats have permanent frowns and tend to turn away. People, on the other hand, have the ability to raise the sides of their mouths into a smile (or downturn them to a stare or frown). A smile and eye contact communicate, “I feel okay about myself, and I want to know about you.” Frowns are turnoffs. One writer remarked that the expression on one’s face is the greatest asset or liability. So is body language--for example, crossed arms that communicate unhappiness and defensiveness. Believe the best of people—that, given the chance, they would respond to your desire to connect.

3. Initiate a conversation. The mundane things of life, like the weather, are always a starter: “What a storm we had yesterday!” From there, move toward information questions: “How long have you come here?” “What is your profession?” “Did you grow up around here?” If you need practice in casual conversation, greet the clerks where you shop. (Make sure there aren’t gazillion people in line behind you!) Ask questions like, “How’s your day going?” “I suppose you’ve seen a lot of that sale chicken on your conveyor belt.” Compliment them: “You processed my order so efficiently.” A shy kid growing up, I had to learn this skill—and my first job as a newspaper reporter put me on the fast track for learning how to talk to people!

4. Learn the person’s name, and tell yours. Dale Carnegie, famed for his 15-million-copy bestseller “How to Win Friends and Influence People,” said that a person’s name is the sweetest and most important sound in any language. (Our cat knows nothing about this. He comes to calls of “Augie,” “Booboo” and “Slug.”) Figure out a way to remember a person’s name--silly mental connections permitted: “Bob bobs his head up and down when he talks,” or “Kathy is chatty.”

5. Be a good listener. Talk about their interests. Ask leading questions—ones that require a full sentence, not “yes” or “no.” Make the other person feel important. Don’t forget eye contact. Imagine watching yourself via hidden camera. Do you have habits that are annoying? One woman kept fiddling with her hair. I got the message that her split ends were more important to her than our conversation. And obviously, at the “acquaintance” level, resist dominating a conversation with your problems.

6. Expand your own topics of conversation. Become a well-rounded person—one who keeps learning, has a passion about a cause, and isn’t afraid to take on a challenge. Remember the sorry state of our cone-headed cat, who waddles around dejectedly because his vision and whiskers are restricted. If the person is excited about an area you don’t know much about, say something like, “That fascinates me. How did you get into that hobby/line of work?

7. Move into quality time together. After a few no-pressure encounters, if you’re drawn to this person (and they seem interested in you), offer to get together. Be the initiator. Meet at a neutral place (like a coffee house) or do an activity in a public place, like going walking. If a friendship progresses, you’ll sense the timing for more—like a group potluck meal, game night or video. If someone seems reluctant to take the friendship further, let go of your expectations, and reach out to others.

Between leaving home after high school and marriage (bringing me to my current home), I went through ten transitions where I had to establish new friendships. Although I never analyzed just how to do it, all of these principles came into play. Each time of seeking friends meant a deliberate effort of mingling with people and focusing on them until the ones who shared my values floated to the top. Interestingly, I had friends in many age groups, particularly women older and wiser than me. I learned from all, finding true this scriptural premise: “As iron sharpens iron, so one man [or woman!] sharpens another” (Proverbs 27:17).

Another lesson from Mr. Cone-Head Cat: resist the tunnel vision that says, “Nobody wants to be my friend.” Think of friendships as concentric circles: acquaintances at the outer rim, better-known friends toward the middle, and deep, abiding friends at the core. Each level of friendship takes courage, effort and a lot of face-to-face time to develop. But the journey toward finding people you can truly care about is worth it.