Burned up!

It’s gone—all gone. Just ashes and charred ruins are left of a family home just a few blocks away. It burst into flames one night while the family was away. By the time neighbors woke and discovered the burning house, it was too late to save. A couple, two small children, and a brother were suddenly homeless.

Seeing the blackened shell a few days after the fire, I had two thoughts. One was, “How utterly sad.” Buying that home had probably stretched this young couple to their financial limits. In the newspaper article telling of their loss, the wife said they were grateful they still had one another. But the children were already missing their baby blankets.

 My other thought was of the “fire” that will test everything I’ve done in life. The apostle Paul wrote of how Christians build on the foundation of faith in Christ. They can build with gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw--referring to choices that involve our work, relationships and service. In the end, when believers face God, “it will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man’s work” (1 Corinthians 3:13).

If we believe in Christ, and are counting on His atoning work on the cross for our salvation, we won’t lose that.  But if our lives were filled with selfish or frivolous pursuits, they’ll flame up like dry straw. On the other hand, if our love for Christ has led us into spiritually fruitful lives, there will be heavenly rewards (v. 14).

The Bible says the “fires” of suffering we experience on earth have a purpose in shaping us for eternity. “These have come,” Peter wrote, “so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed” (1 Peter 1:6-7). Suffering can either make us bitter, or better-equipped for God’s purposes.

I’m sorry for the young couple who lost so much of their worldly possessions. It’s on my walking route, so I will see it often. For now, it’s a sobering reminder to consider what building materials I am laying on the foundation of faith in Christ. Excessive pleasure? Personal indulgence? Isolation from the world’s needs? Or service to my needy world grounded in love for Christ? To borrow that oft-quoted poem by missionary C.T. Studd:  “Only one life, ‘twill soon be past; only what’s done for Christ will last.”

Lasting last words

My husband’s relatives are buried in a little country cemetery in the heart of orchard hills. For years on Memorial Day weekend, they have traditionally tended the graves and left flowers. As we did that this year, I wandered the little cemetery to read some of the older inscriptions that included epitaphs. I thought of my own someday, should my “time” come before the Lord’s return.

I liked this one: “Gone Home.” Another commended a mother and wife: “She gave so much and asked for so little.”  Sisters share one stone, one already gone.  I heard she suffered from severe diabetes. Under her name: “Determined in His love.” Then there’s a stone for a remarkable, godly couple.  In life they suffered with a degenerating  heart and quadriplegia from an auto accident. Finally, both died of cancer. But as I read their inscription, ”See you in Paradise,” I recalled how they embraced life with a joyful faith that focused on others, not themselves. One woman’s stone included a freestyle verse about her hard work and love: "Always there/Always with a wink and a smile/Always tireless dedication/Always with her love/All ways perfect-ly Susie."

 In reading these, I thought of a cemetery in Bridgeport, Conn., where an impressive, tall stone marks the remains of P.T. Barnum of circus fame.  In the same cemetery is a simple stone that says, “Aunt Fanny. She hath done what she could.”  It’s the burial spot for Fanny Crosby, the blind hymn writer who composed lyrics to more than 8,000 hymns, including “To God Be the Glory.”  The simplicity of her body’s resting place matched her desire that attention for what she did in life go to the Lord.

 As I walked among the stones, Psalm 15’s description of a righteous person came to mind: “Lord, who may dwell in your sanctuary? Who may live on your holy hill?  He whose walk is blameless and who does what is righteous” (vv.1-2).

My parents wanted total cremation, with money saved in funeral costs given to missions. Their ashes had no resting place, so there is no cemetery I can visit to remember them. But when I tag along to this little country cemetery with the family I gained through marriage, I appreciate this custom of visiting...and recalling. Every day I live, how I live is part of my legacy.  It may not get chiseled into a memorial stone, but it will be reviewed at the throne of God.To borrow a line from the stone of that self-sacrificing mom, it’s His Son who truly gave so much—His life on a cross—so that I might have the hope of life beyond the grave.

Schlepping along

My tasks that day included weeding—something I really didn’t want to do. So I put on my don’t-be-seen-in-public “work duds” and began my close encounters with a long, fence-line flower bed. Soon, my bucket was brimming with weeds, so I pushed my tired body off the ground, and schlepped my way to the garbage bin. That’s your word for the day: schlep.  It’s from a Yiddish word meaning “to drag,” and in English it’s come to mean “to move slowly, with difficulty or unwillingly.”

For several hours I scooted alongside this notoriously weedy fence line to dig and pull invaders.  It doesn’t help that an empty, weedy lot is on the other side of the fence. By the time I’d dumped the last bucketful in the garbage, I collapsed in a heap by the couch (I was too filthy to sit on it) and downed a glass of water. 

I thought of other times I’d schlepped through life’s exhausting “stuff.” Facing homelessness and joblessness (and God’s amazing, just-in-time provision). The huge task of emptying homes of parents after their deaths. Seeking harmony in difficult relationships. Being a victim of injustice. Fulfilling a commitment beyond what I perceived as my limitations. Did I mention letting God do some “weeding” of bad stuff in my heart?

At such times I experienced the hope of “enabling grace.”

Like Paul described: “God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work” (2 Cor. 9:8). I tend to read that, “so that most of the time you’ll survive.”  But no—that stout word “all” reminds me God’s work is done in His strength.

Paul learned that principle in a wretched classroom, a filthy First Century prison. Yet even from its dirt, debris and discouragement, he proclaimed, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:13). Instead of giving up, he gave it to Jesus.

Okay, I admit it.  When doing mindless tasks like weeding, I do a lot of thinking. As I seek to uproot (or at least slow down) the encroachment of various weeds whose names I don’t even know, I think of how God looks at this sin-choked world.

How grateful I am that He gives us this hope:  this isn’t how it will always be. Someday He will return and end all that is wicked and fallen, making it new again. As Isaiah saw it: “Instead of the thorn bush will grow the pine tree, and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.  This will be for the Lord’s renown, for an everlasting sign, which will not be destroyed” (Isaiah 55:13).

No more schlepping, either!

P.S. Warm and grateful greetings to readers around the world. The program that operates this blog tells me the countries (but not the individual addresses) that are accessing my blog. Most of you live in the U.S. but others (in order of frequency this past month) visited from Germany, Russia, United Kingdom, Brazil, Belarus, France, South Korea, Malaysia, Poland and Portugal. Knowing your diverse backgrounds (including those who might know some Yiddish, as per today's post!) reminds me that our Lord's messages are for all cultures. I am thankful when you share these blog posts with others, for my motivation is to honor Jesus and help us all in our journeys of faith.

Encroachments

An overgrown hedge sprawls over the sidewalk of a nearby house. When my mother-in-law, Doris, was still alive, on warm days I’d help her into her wheelchair and push her around the block to see the flowers. But I couldn’t push her down that narrow hedge-covered stretch. I’d have to dip down into the street one driveway before, then push her back up one driveway later. Alas, that rental house and yard simply didn’t get the care they should.

The word “encroachment” best describes the situation. And what a lesson its meaning packs! To encroach means “to enter by gradual steps or by stealth into the possessions or rights of another; to advance beyond desirable or normal limits.”

Recently we remembered what would have been Doris’s 93^rd birthday. She died at 89 of Alzheimer’s disease. It’s not what she would have chosen for her exit to Heaven. If anything, she avoided inconveniencing people, and to become mentally and physically helpless was alien to how she'd lived the rest of her life.

I thought of that the other night when we had dinner guests. After we ate and I was removing dishes from the table, the mom jumped up to help with washing and drying them. I thought how Doris did the same in her better years.It was just the way she was: always serving. I was reminded of other ways she served when someone recently shared an old photograph of Doris in the children’s Sunday school class she taught. Doris really "owned" that responsibility. She painted the little classroom pale pink (her favorite color) and took care to set up a "worship corner" with a little vase of flowers. In such little ways she put others first.

Those memories started me thinking of how a person learns to be a “server” rather than a “taker” (or, in the hedge analogy, “an encroachment”). I  think the answer resides in the classic passage about God’s discipline in Hebrews 12. It talks about how parents discipline their children as part of character development. (Yes, there was a reason I insisted our kids make their beds, help with dishes, take out the garbage, and respect authority!) But, the writer continues, “God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it” (Hebrews 12:11).

God’s “pruning” may involve hardship or intimidating challenges. He may use a sermon, article, or personal Bible study to reveal behaviors or attitudes that have “encroached” on our lives. He may also use people whose godly examples inspire us and cause us to reflect, “Am I living to please God or myself?”

That's why I think of Doris and her humble service when I walk by that hedge and get my legs scratched. Left unpruned so long, it probably just needs pulled out--a huge, messy task. Similarly, God's "pruning" (which often includes "serving" assignments) keeps my spirit from growing wild. The last thing I want is for someone to reject the Lord Jesus on the basis of negatives they see in me.

Mom, the change agent

If you’d ask the happiest moments I had as a mother, I’d include those weekly trips to the public library with two preschoolers. Each was allowed to check out ten Mom-approved books (meaning no witches). We’d spend hours reading together, scrunched together under an afghan in their Dad’s recliner. Among other fuzzy-warm memories (which, I admit, are getting fuzzy as I age): “Aggression Cookies” (kids mixing dough with their hands), “Tent City" (living room creativity with blankets and chairs), and bath time with a bucket of water toys.

 

I’m grateful I got in on motherhood.  I was 34 when I married and 35 when the first baby came along. This summer, after my 66^th birthday, I’m looking forward to holding my first grandchild. But maturity (read that: getting old) tends to make you philosophical about parenting and reproducing God’s image on earth.  What parent doesn’t want that child to succeed and honor God?

In her book The Resolution for Women (BPH, 2011, p. 207), Patricia Shirer addresses those sobering parenting fundamentals. There’s nothing wrong with playing on the floor, making homemade waffles, and snapping first-haircut photos, she says. But “we must remember that our principal charge and mission as parents is to send our boys and girls into the world as young people who bear God’s Spirit, who are purposeful about His mission for their lives, and who are intent on being His agent for change on the planet.”

It doesn’t happen on its own, she adds, as children naturally lean toward “the flesh” of selfishness, rebellion, and disrespect and disregard for others. Left to themselves, they’ll “invariably succumb to the subtle (and not so subtle) thrusts of the latest TV shows and cultural trends.”   Enter Christian mothers. “You are in position to intervene,” she adds. “You…have been placed specifically in your children’s lives to make them rebel against a culture that’s telling them to rebel against you.”

Even as I type her words, I pause and choke back some tears. I pray for several mothers whose children have rebelled in some way. For these women, there is no “Happy Mother’s Day.”

I have no pat answers for those sorrows. But as Corrie ten Boom often said, there is no sorrow so deep that our God is not deeper. When I embrace in prayer a difficult parenting issue for myself or someone else, if often goes into that wordless yielding that the Bible describes as this: “The Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express” (Romans 8:26).

Other times there are words, simple ones, but faithfully lifted up. For years my prayers for my children, besides including specific needs, have included seven big areas of life, divided over the seven days of the week:

            Sunday: a growing faith and place of ministry.

            Monday: delight in God’s word.
            Tuesday: purity.
            Wednesday: health, safety.
            Thursday: careers, value system.
            Friday: positive attitude, gratitude.
            Saturday: true, godly friends.

            Any woman can bear a child. But to “mother” that child for God keeps us on our knees.

Baskets of praises

One of my neighbors has created a whimsical basket by training a forsythia bush. When it blooms in spring, we’re treated to a golden basket that makes me smile every time I pass by it.
            The other day while studying Psalm 103 I thought about how all of us have been given a golden basket that we can fill—with praises. Outlined as an acrostic for “praise,” the psalm reminds us of some of the extraordinary blessings God has poured into our lives.
            P—Provision for life (vv. 1-3). The word “all” is prominent in these verses.  We praise God “with all that is within me” and are to “forget not all his benefits.”  The greatest is forgiveness of sins through Jesus Christ. He is also our physical healer, whether through medicine, miracles, or the perfect healing of heaven. Spiritual healing (like forsaking a bitter attitude) can also yield physical benefits.
            R—Renewing presence (vv. 4-5). Re-read Isaiah 40:31 and consider how God renews you like an eagle, enabling you to keep going even in tough times. Remember the “good things” in your life, as they are His gifts.
            A—Almighty plan (vv. 6-9). Underline in your Bible the words that describe His power and works in history. Praise Him that He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.
            I—Immeasurable mercy (vv. 10-12). This is the section of superlatives: “as high as the heavens are above the earth” for His love, and “as far as the east is from the west” (they never meet) for His forgiveness. If you haven’t already, memorize this verse. One night it enabled me to comfort a friend who thought she’d committed an unforgiveable sin. (The only “unforgiveable sin” is utterly rejecting Jesus.)
            S—Sympathetic care (vv. 13-18). The psalmist used father-love to try to explain the depth of compassion God has for us. Earth is temporary and full of woe. But His love is the immeasurable “from everlasting to everlasting.” Praise Him for His incomprehensible, eternal, wonderful presence and workings.
            E—Eternal dominion (vv. 19-22). “Praise the Lord” is no cheap phrase. Call it out with the excitement and awe of all the choruses of Heaven praising God “everywhere in His dominion.” Someday, those who believe in God will be part of that celestial chorus. Earth is the rehearsal hall for the Real Thing.
            Finish out with a simple praise for scriptures like Psalm 103 that remind us how to thank Him with whole and holy hearts. Truly, our baskets overflow.