Coping with Dropitis

So far, “dropitis” hasn’t made it into the medical manuals, but it’s a real and serious syndrome. I should know.  The other morning I hoped to do something noble for humanity, after I changed the sheets and washed the dishes. But as I pulled fresh sheets on the bed, I discovered a dirty sock with an air-conditioned toe. Going to the sewing machine to mend it, I realized my machine’s needle needed tightening. Dropping the sock, I went out to the garage for a tiny screwdriver. I found it okay, but noticed the measuring tape and hammer from the last fix-it project were in a pile on the workbench. Dropping the screwdriver, I tidied the workbench and went back in the house. That’s when breakfast dishes confronted me. After washing them, I decided the dishrag was hosting a few trillion battleship-gray germs, so headed for the bleach. Opening the cleaning cupboard, I saw I needed to buy bleach. I dropped the rag on the floor by the washer and reached for the car keys.

At the grocery store, after dropping bleach into my cart, I remembered wanting to cook a meal for a friend battling cancer. Home again with bleach and a bulging bag of groceries for my family’s and friend’s meals, I dropped my coat and purse and charged into cooking duties. As the sink piled with dirty dishes, I was glad I’d at least washed breakfast’s pile. By nighttime, I’d still hadn’t changed the bed or achieved world peace. But somebody in need had a meal.

 

I take comfort in knowing that Jesus picked disciples who had "dropitis."  Simon and Andrew dropped the net they were fishing with, and James and John dropped the nets they were mending. And don't forget short Zaccheus, who dropped out of a tree and asked the Lord, "What do you want me to do?" When Jesus drops into our lives, priorities change.

Going higher

This stairwell in my friend’s home makes one stop and think!

            At first, I was reminded of  Jacob’s dream of angels on a ladder or stairwell to heaven (Genesis 28). Then I recalled Paul’s testimony in Philippians 3:14: “I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

            And then, I thought of a hymn inspired by that particular verse, “Higher Ground.”  It begins: “I’m pressing on the upward way, New heights I’m gaining every day; Still praying as I onward bound, ‘Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.’”

The lyrics, published in 1898, were written by Johnson Oatman (1856-1922), who, although ordained through the Methodist Episcopal Church, worked in retail and later insurance all his life. In his spare time he wrote an estimated 3,000-5,000 hymn lyrics, meaning he completed them at a rate of about four a week. A few have survived to this century, including this one, “Count Your Blessings,” “No, Not One!” and “I’m Living on the Hallelujah Side.”

Most of Oatman’s lyrics focused on Christian growth and personal victory,  expressing how it isn’t enough to just “know” Christ (through accepting His death for one’s sins) but also to “know” Him better and deeper. Thus this hymn, whose chorus goes:  “Lord, lift me up and let me stand/By faith on heaven’s tableland./A higher plain than I have found:/Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”

            That “higher ground” includes growing in the traits expressed on my friend’s stairwell.  I don’t perform 100% on any of them, but that’s the essence of growing as a Christian –or, as Oatman wrote, aspiring to higher ground. Many of those traits are found in three “Christian living lists” of the New Testament.

            One is the so-called “love chapter” of 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. It comes after Paul’s rebuke of flashy (and shallow) spirituality in that ancient church, taking them back to the basics of Christian love:  patience, kindness, refusing to envy or boast, and eleven more.   Another list is the “fruit of the Spirit” beginning in Galatians 5:22.  Again, Paul had defined what “not to do” by describing X-rated acts of the sinful. In contrast, the spirit-empowered person grows in love, joy, peace, patience, kindness goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

            The third list, which I think best illustrates a spiritual stairwell, is in 2 Peter 1:3-7.  This portion of scripture discusses making one’s calling and “election” sure—in other words, giving true evidence that you are a growing believer.

Peter precedes his list with a command: “Make every effort to add to your faith” (1:3). We can’t ascend a stairwell without lifting a foot, and we can’t grow spiritually by expecting some outside force to zap us with the right attitudes and actions.  It takes deliberate changing of habits with dependence on the Holy Spirit to add to each of these:  goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness and love.

Peter adds: “For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ” (v. 8).

            There’s the word “know” again (in “knowledge”)--for to truly know Him is to aspire to the truly satisfying “Highest ground,” of eternity with Him.

 

Remembering Dad

A fun day when I was about two, and one of the few
photos I have of my dad from childhood.

Today would have been my Dad's 98th birthday. I write in honor of him.

I came to the living room that morning to find my dad already in his favorite recliner, an open book in his lap. “What are you reading?” I asked.  "I’m crying with Job,” he replied.  He didn’t need to say any more. I knew the book wrestled with why good people suffer. He hadn’t experienced the catastrophic losses of Job, but his heart was deeply wounded.  He’d been let go of his long-time job just short of retirement.  Then his bride of more than three decades lost a long, savings-depleting battle with cancer. Both his daughters had grown and left home. Then I, the still-single one, returned briefly when his grief of losing his wife was the freshest. I’m glad I had that memory to tuck away in my heart, because six months later he died of a heart attack, age 63.

That memory is one reason why I read Job with different eyes. Unlike the Old Testament's Job, my dad wasn't what our culture would call wealthy. He worked in a paper mill and scrimped to pay off a three-bedroom house. He helped his two daughters finish college debt-free. Later, he and my mother took some no-frills dream vacations overseas. But back home, he did his own yard work and home repair. They made sure church and missions giving were part of their budget. Quietly, they served others, particularly widows needing a helping hand.

But there were gaps in that hedge of protection of humble living. They included Mom’s severe asthma and a pile of other health problems, ending with cancer.  Dad’s heart attacks, starting in his fifties. My “down times” with rheumatic fever. Closer to his heart, his own siblings who wanted no part of his faith. Though he didn’t have the answers to hardship, he lived out Job’s perspective: “Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” (Job 2:10).

I’m sad that he died alone in a hospital. I was halfway across the nation at graduate school.  My sister was on the other side of the state. Yet, knowing his faith in Christ, I believe he met death with the hope that Job expressed: “I know that my Redeemer lives…After my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God…How my heart yearns within me!” (Job 19:25-27).

Especially on his birthday and Father’s Day, I think of Dad. I have now lived longer than he did.  But on those “remembering” days, I am a little girl again, sitting in his lap as we rocked together in his favorite platform rocker.  He’d open the book I’d brought him and read to me. I’d lean into his chest, feeling secure and loved. Sometimes he’d complain, “Hey, those elbows are sharp.  You need some meat on your bones.”

Years later, as a young adult elbowing her way through job and roommate challenges, I wasn’t above complaining to Dad. But in the process, I learned something better: praying for those who I felt didn’t treat me right.  That’s exactly what Job did (42:8, 10).

 

Unlike Job, my dad didn’t live to see four generations, just two grandchildren through my sister. But I still live with the legacy of a man who sought after God’s heart.  When life was hard, he weathered it—as Job did--with trust in God’s inscrutable ways. Those are the memories worth treasuring, and learning from.

Be careful, little feet

 

When you’re a first-time grandma (or even a first-time parent) you look at the details of that newborn—like feet. You wonder not only when they will walk, but how they will walk. Already I am praying that my newborn grandson, Josiah, will walk in the ways of God.

“Walk” is a good word. It was a good analogy for Bible times, when people mostly walked or rode wagons or animals.  There were no hybrid cars with amazing MPG ratings. Life was hard, one footstep at a time.

Particularly during the forty years of the exodus, Bible-times people lived from step to step. Thus after explaining God’s basic commands for life, Moses exhorted them with a word they knew well: walk. “So be careful to do what the LORD your God has commanded you,” Moses said. “Do not turn aside to the right or to the left. Walk in all the ways that the LORD your God has commanded you, so that you may live and prosper and prolong all your days in the land that you will possess” (Deut. 5:32-33).

Thus a prayer for my grandson: Walk in the noble way of God’s commands. The Ten Commandments are not just “rules.” They are reminders of how we reflect our Creator, the holy One.

Another is in Deuteronomy 10:12-13. Most notable are its verbs of following God: fear the Lord your God, walk in all his ways, love Him, serve the Lord your God will all your heart and with all your soul, observe the Lord’s commands.

Thus for my grandson: Serving God is at the heart of following Him. It’s not all about you.  It’s about responding in love and awe to the Lord your God through participation in His work on earth.

When my life was at turbulent crossroads, I found hope and comfort in another “walk” passage in Isaiah 30:20-21: “Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’”

Again, for my grandson: You’ll encounter people who haven’t a clue about the Lord. They’ll want you to follow their way. Early on, I hope you are encouraged to memorize Psalm 1: “Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked.” It’s all around us—in the news that elevates the views of  godlessness, in the pressure of peers, and in our natural inclination to think only of ourselves. Listen to that quiet voice of God’s spirit.

In recent years, another “walk” command has become a comfort and a challenge. When the apostle John aged, his personality mellowed as the love of Christ gripped his heart. Thus it is no surprise that “love” pervades his last letters. In the opening section of 1 John, he wrote about those who claim to be Christians but have dark sides to their spirits, lying and failing to follow God’s truth. In contrast, “if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin” (1 John 1:7).

Dear Grandson, walk in love. Stay in God’s light. Never stop being amazed by God’s love in sending Christ to die for your sins.