Finger-pickin' good

Oh, the joys of fruits coming in season—and on sale at my local grocery store! This vine fruit could well be called “grapes of math”! One branch produces so many little edibles!

I “get” that because of all the agrarian references in the Bible, which, of course, reflected the early agrarian culture. Wheat, barley, grapes, olives and more provided that culture with lessons about living for God. Like this one that Paul wrote to the church at Philippi:

And this is my prayer, that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of Christ. (Philippians 1:11)

So, what are those “fruits” or behaviors of a God-directed life?  Paul gave Timothy one list:

But you, man of God pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. (1 Timothy 6:11-12)

Paul must have mulled a lot over how to describe a “fruitful Christian.” There’s also that often-quoted section of Galatians 5:22-23:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

A friend from years past told how she decided to take one  spiritual “fruit” (from Galatians 5:22-23) and focus on it for a week, trusting God to make her aware of temptations to behave the opposite of it, and to thoughtfully turn her thinking to His ways. She worked as a hospital nurse, and I’m sure in that tension-filled situation she had plenty of opportunity to check the “pulse” of her fruit-bearing.

As for the bowl of fruit pictured above: are you already wanting to reach in and pluck off a few to eat? I think that’s a picture of how Christ wants us to live: that no matter when or where we’re tasted (or tested), His sweetness will prevail.

Beautiful sky-gray

I’ve a lover of the color blue, especially that of the sky on a sunny day. But I don’t mind the “gray” of rain clouds when they’re part of the normal cycle of seasons. This sky-scape on a recent trip brought to mind a passage in Isaiah 55, one you may remember for its clarion call to the spiritually thirsty: “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters.”  This, of course, looks to Christ, the Living Water. But there’s another well-known section in the middle of that chapter. The passage may seem long, but it’s rich:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.

As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,

So is my word that goes out from my mouth; It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:8-11)

Years ago I was encouraged to memorize this set of verses as a reminder that learning the mind of God (which includes making the necessary spiritual changes) needs to include getting scripture inside my heart.

There’s a Bill and Gloria Gaither song that goes along with this. It’s called “God gave the Song,” and in the middle of the singing, a narrator comes in with a list of things (like armies) that could not quiet God’s Song in Jesus Christ. God’s Word will never, never be nullified but achieve His purposes. I claim that as I pray for difficult people in my life. And even when I see no changes in them, I know He’s changing me more into the character of Christ.

Back to those threatening gray skies. In the back of our pickup, we had a wooden dresser to deliver to our daughter, and wondered if a cloudburst was ahead and we’d need to stop and put a tarp over it. No way could we stop that “precip delivery” on which farmers depended for their crops! Similarly, we cannot stop the spiritual “storms” that come into our lives. As uncomfortable as they are, as much as they drive us to our knees, they’re part of God’s way of growing us spiritually.

Maybe there’s new slogan here:

See the gray, stop and pray!

Look up!

"Big Sky Country”—I understood that description of Montana when I traveled across it nearly forty years ago. Ever-changing clouds floated above the encircling horizon. The rolling scrublands of southeast Washington state provide a similar impression, and when we recently traveled through them, this cloud formation almost took my breath away. Sometimes scripture you haven’t thought about in a while just pops into your mind, and this is what came to me:

From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another. (John 1:16)

The context of this verse is God’s amazing grace in sending The Light, His son Jesus, who showed us and taught us about God the Father. As I saw the clouds stacked one after another, they seemed to symbolize “one blessing after another.”  I not only have sufficient food and housing, the love of friends and family, and skills I can use to God’s glory, I have HIM. When the woes of this world drag me down, especially when I am attacked personally, I have HIM. I have the gift of salvation, His assurance of help now, and the anticipation of a glorious future in Heaven.

Recently, while finishing a sewing project, I put on a praise tape for background music. As though God knew I needed it, I heard the song “Be exalted,” based on Psalm 57:6: “Be exalted, O God, above the heavens; let your glory be over all the earth." I immediately thought of this photo and the “glory” of even clouds—water vapor, part of God’s exquisite creation design!—expressing His glory over the landscape.

Only two of the gospels describe Jesus’ ascension into Heaven, both just saying “he was taken up into heaven” (Mark 16:19, Luke 24:51). But when Luke gathered his research of the history of the early church, he added this detail:

 “After he [Jesus] had said this [the “great commission” to witness about Jesus] he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight” (Acts 1:9, boldface added).

But that’s not the end of the “cloud” story.  Luke’s Gospel includes Jesus’ teaching about the end of the world with all sorts of havoc. Luke quotes Jesus:

At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.  When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near (Luke 21:27-28, boldface added).

As you finish reading this, look outside.  Are there clouds to lift your thoughts heavenward?  Even if not this day, look up and take courage! He is coming again!

"Eye" am with you

If you look to the left in this photo, you’ll see two eye-shaped land formations that seem to be looking heavenward.  Actually slices of a hill too steep to plow, they are known locally as “The Eyes of the Palouse.”   Located deep in what’s called the “Palouse country” of eastern Washington—known for rolling scrublands and grain crops—they’re a welcome sight for us as we make the four-hour trip to see our daughter and family. As we travel east, seeing them means we’re just an hour from our destination. 

Our son and daughter both attended Washington State University on the far eastern edge of our state. (A few years later, my daughter and husband, who finished his degree there, decided to return there to settle after teaching two years in China.) During those many long back-and-forth trips during  our son and daughter's college years, the “eyes” reminded me of a Biblical allusion to God’s omniscience:

The eyes of the LORD range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him. (2 Chronicles 16:9)

Every trip, they symbolized for me how my student son and daughter, facing the challenges and trials of college life, were at all times watched by my Heavenly Father, the Lord of all. They turned out okay--praise God.  But I recalled how the same verse had helped me trust God through all the changes and travels I experienced as a young adult pursuing mission service, graduate school,  and a job halfway across the nation.

During our most recent trip past the “eyes,” however, other “eye” verses came to mind:

I lift up my eyes to you, to you whose throne is in heaven. (Psalm 123:1)

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.  (Psalm 121:1-2)

Lately we've gone through some difficult issues in extended family. The struggle has been long and deeply wounding.  I yearn for hope or answers, but see none.  Then God reminds me: the solution is not my responsibility.  He is on the throne, not me.  He, the ruler of the universe, is in charge.

The great “I-am” is also the great “Eye-am” who sees all: past, present, future. And He is worthy of my trust and love, even when what I see is bleak:

Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame. (Psalm 34:3)

In praise of red cabooses

More than half a century ago, a publisher risked starting a children’s book series with a non-traditional format: kid-size at 7x8” and full of colored art with text. Today we know them as “The Golden Books.” Among the early titles was The Little Red Caboose, about the last car on a train with quite a “woe-is-me” attitude because he wasn’t “important” like the engine, boxcars, oil cars, coal cars, or flat cars. Then one day the engine didn’t have the pull to take its heavy load up the mountain.  It started to slip down, threatening a runaway train situation. The little caboose slammed on his brakes and kept everything on the tracks long enough for two big engines to come up behind and push it all up the mountain.  When it was all over, the “rescue” engines give the caboose credit for saving the train.  His new-found fame meant that children now waved at the "important" caboose as he passed them on the tracks.

Of course, it’s a children’s story, but one of the truths behind it is this: do not underestimate your role in life. Persevere when it gets tough.

Dan's sense of humor led him to feature
this fun photo of his son and granddaughter
on the book cover

One of my heroes of perseverance is a polio overcomer named Dan Miller. We met about twenty years ago when he spoke at a volunteer banquet at my church.  His story is that he contracted polio right after high school graduation.  He had planned to train to be a physical education teacher—he was a star in sports at his local high school—but polio left him with severely impaired arms and legs. In those pre-mobility-scooter days, he got around with great difficulty with crutches. Still, he pursued his dream.  His college adviser, while acknowledging Dan’s physical impairment, cheered him on with a simple statement:  “Let’s see what you can do.”  Even though Dan had to work harder than other students, and improvise for his handicap, he still graduated from college and was hired as a physical education teacher!  Eventually he became an award-winning elementary school principal. I helped him write his autobiography—a blend of fun and challenge—which sold by the thousands when he traveled as an inspirational speaker. 

This spring, the stories of two more overcomers came to my attention. One had his story published in the magazine highlighting events and people at Washington State University’s new School of Medicine. Abel Saba grew up in Burkina Faso, a West African country with one of the world’s lowest literacy rates.  The son of a pastor, oldest of six siblings, he counted going to school a privilege. At 18, he founded a primary school just outside the capital city.  To raise money for it, he hauled and sold water. Then he helped build the first schoolhouse.  He arrived in the U.S.  on a visa in 2009, working at entry-level jobs but still managing to send money home for his school.  Fluent in French and his native language, he had to learn English after arrival in the U.S.  He worked overnight shifts so he could attend nursing classes during the day. Now he’s pursuing the long and difficult path of getting a doctorate in the family nurse practitioner program with the goal of establishing a health care center next to the school.  One of his WSU instructors remarked, “He has a very gentle spirit, but a directed purpose.” 

The other story was an essay in the Seattle Times by Ater Malath, originally of South Sudan, part of the swath of Africa (including Yemen, Somalia and Nigeria) facing famine and mass starvation. It’s estimated that in South Sudan a million children are acutely malnourished and at risk of dying. Ater, who came to the United States as a refugee, says his first name means “perseverance.”  He described himself as “a tenacious person—an attribute that helped me survive war, starvation, and the trials of refugee camps.”  At nine years old, he lost his parents to a village massacre. With his uncle he fled bare-foot for hundreds of miles through war-torn countryside, then lived in several refugee camps. Twelve years ago he was among the wave of children allowed into the U.S. from Sudan.  He arrived alone, a teenager, in Fargo, N.D. Without the cultural supports of home, he forged a life that included working “at horrid meatpacking plants, and a long series of filthy, backbreaking jobs. But I was grateful to be in a country not wracked by warfare, famine, extreme poverty and hopelessness.” He later brought over two sisters and a brother to America. He and two siblings earned college degrees; one returned to South Sudan and runs a small market.  His essay was a call to action to help peoples half a world away in a crisis of horrific dimensions.

To compare these remarkable overcomers to a “red caboose” may seem ludicrous. But I think there’s a point here.  Most of us probably know people who are stuck in negatives that are trivial compared to what these people have gone through. But no matter where we are in life—and for Christians, there's the anchoring truth that God knows exactly where that is—there is hope if we take life a positive step at a time, keeping our hands in His.