"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).

THOSE 'SOUR' SORRYS

 My young-mother years sometimes required settling sibling disagreements. This often ended by my requiring brother and sister to apologize face-to-face in the hall between their rooms. Whatever else could be credited (certainly the Lord's help!), I'm grateful they grew up to be good friends and responsible citizens!

Spats between young children are inevitable as they learn to navigate life. What has saddened me are the apologies (of sorts) I've experienced from adults who, it seems, had too much “save face” blocking the path of genuine repentance. Their replies went like this: “Sorry I got mad at you, but I was having a bad day.” Or, “Sorry to offend you. I didn't mean to set you off.”

I call them “Sour Sorrys” and they are nothing new. One Biblical example: Saul, a tall, handsome guy who had a good start (at least from the “looks” of it) to be Israel's first king. But as his royal life softened with extra wives and servants, fame went to his head. He got so jealous of David, God's choice for the next king (instead of Saul's son), that he repeatedly sent assassins David's way. One time, he asked that they capture David alive—at home in bed--so Saul could have the honor of killing David himself!

Then Saul sent the men back to see David [after David had escaped one assassination attempt] and told them, 'Bring him up to me in his bed so that I may kill him.' (1 Samuel 19:15)

Like, how low can you go?

A little later, Saul's anger toward an elusive David caught up. One hot day, while combing the desert to find and kill David, Saul went into a cave “to relieve himself” (1 Samuel 24:3), probably meaning he needed a quick, private "rest stop" in the coolness of the cave. Saul didn't know David was in the same cave, and could have quickly killed him. Instead, David chose the higher road of not harming the king.

This is when I turn to Psalm 63, one of many that David is believed to have written during his lonely, scary time as a wilderness refugee before becoming king himself. The psalm has this preface: “A psalm of David, when he was in the desert of Judah.” As a shepherd, David knew how to survive in the parched, dirty desert without today's “cool-packs,” cell phones and camper snacks. But he also had a God who was watching him. He expressed it in this psalm:

O Lord, you have searched me and you know me....You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways....(Psalm 139:1, 3)

This psalm and the one preceding it bring me hope and comfort when I deal with those who can't say “sorry” from the heart. Who can't honestly admit, “God has shown me my sins against you” nor name at least a few of them as part of the apology. Instead, they revert to “save-face” admissions—some of which we've seen in recent high-profile crime cases.

“Sorry” has become such a feeble word. It's more than “sorry, excuse me,” like when you try to avoid smashing someone's feet or purse-slugging heads when you're moving down a row of chairs to an empty seat. For deep emotional and spiritual hurts, just saying “sorry” is like a band-aid on an open surgical wound. Old Testament Hebrew has several words for “sorry,” including one whose meaning includes the idea of sighing or breathing strongly, such as when the words one needs to say are painful to get out. That's intense “sorry.”

Sadly, when we are wronged, we won't always hear a genuine “sorry” (with sorrow, from which we get our word “sorry”) from the offender. But God knows our anxious thoughts (Psalm 139:23) and hasn't stopped His intention to “lead [us] in the way everlasting” (v. 24). And that includes resolving differences...His holy way.

THE PAIN OF PEARLS

Ow! A splinter in my thumb. I didn't invite it, but it came....and how it hurt—both its “residence” and the hole left behind when I dug it out with a sewing needle and tweezers. That ordinary “injury” came to mind when I learned how pearls are formed. Yes, I knew they came from oysters, but what starts the process? The answer: pain. More specifically, a foreign object (like a grain of sand) that an oyster can't expel back into the water. In defense, it secretes layers of calcium carbonate and a protein called “conchiolin” that covers over the foreign item, in time producing a pearl. It can take anywhere from six months to three years for an oyster to produce the pearl of a size commonly used in jewelry.

I'm glad I'm not an oyster! But learning that nature fact prompted me to think about my response to intrusive pain. Like hardship, loss, or an unwelcome task. Or unpleasant, demanding, “entitled” people who make life, well, painful. I also thought about Jesus' short parable about a pearl:

The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it. (Matthew 13:45-46)

The interpretation of this parable? Bible scholars find two ways to look at it. One is that this exceptional, valuable pearl is God's gift of eternal life in Jesus Christ. He is worth putting our “all” out for a life-changing discovery and eternal spiritual riches. Note that this parable (similar to the one that precedes it, about a man finding buried treasure in an old field, which became his by buying the field) involves recognizing the value of the “find.”

Another viewpoint suggests the merchant represents the Lord Jesus. The “pearl of great price” (notice the adjective “great”) is the church. To purchase this pearl, He gave His life on a splintered executioner's cross. Similarly to how a pearl is formed inside an oyster's shell through an irritation (like a grain of sand), the church began its formation through fatal wounding of the Savior's earthly body. Thus, the “pearl of great price” is the church.

Whichever viewpoint one takes, this truth remains: the authentic spiritual life will involve pain. That which we don't want—conflict, difficult relationships, financial distress—may be the “sand inside the shell” that causes pain. We can choose to sit at the bottom of the “sea of despair” and complain about our pain. Or we can welcome the healing “coverings” of faith in Christ to turn our pain into something of spiritual beauty.

If you're interested in the largest pearls ever found, check this website:

9 Largest Pearls Ever Found - Largest.org

PRIORITIES

It's late August, and we're going through our annual late-summer “heat waves” with 100-degree temperatures. I'm grateful for today's “air conditioners,” recalling my younger years in stuffy, low-budget rental apartments without “A/C.” Instead, a noisy box fan helped move air so I didn't sizzle like bacon on a hot pan.

Our current blistering-hot days find me thinking of a psalm in which a deer's thirst becomes a spiritual analogy. You probably know the one, which starts:
As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? (Ps.42:1-2)

This bold, young deer visited the back yard
in late winter, obviously hungry (those
are rose bushes behind him--ouch!)

If you can remember back to the 1970s to the emergence of contemporary Bible choruses (many out of the Southern California “Maranatha!” ministries), you're probably humming that chorus. It's been running through my mind, too, as I go about my tasks. I recall how this psalm reflected a challenging time in David's life. His comfort and prestige were stripped away, and he was enduring the hard, hot life of hiding in the desert from insane, murder-intending King Saul. Food and water were precious and rare. Yet David found his hope and practical supply in God: The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. (Psalm 28:7)

I suspect that Psalm 42, with its downcast tone (like verse 3: “My tears have been my food day and night”) isn't apt to inspire upbeat “life verses.” The ticking away of days and years has its hard spots, and it's easy to think sadly about past “Glory Years.” Maybe we had more friends. Respect from others. A secure job we enjoyed. Health. A place to live which brought us comfort and happiness. A satisfying purpose for living. Or maybe a measure of fame.

Certainly “fame” was anticipated for Scotsman Eric Liddell, whose amazing athletic achievements were portrayed in the 1981 film “Chariots of Fire.” He was predicted to win the 100-meter race in the 1924 Olympics. But Liddell, a devout Christian who aspired to be a missionary, withdrew when he learned the race's heats would be held on a Sunday. Instead, he switched to the more grueling 400-meter race during the week.

In the movie script, Liddell was handed a note just before the race. Reportedly from his team's masseur, it read: “In the old book it says, he that honors me I will honor. Wishing you the best success always. 1 Samuel 2:30.” Despite the extra strain for him to attempt a race four times his “trained” length, Liddell won with an Olympic record of 47.8 seconds. It would stand until the 1936 Berlin Olympics.

From sports fame he moved on to mission work in China, dying there of an undiagnosed brain tumor in his 43^rd year. But his dedication to Christ's cause made a difference. Of course, he was asked “post-Olympics” if he regretted leaving behind his Olympic fame for mission service. 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.”

Powerful words about priorities! The Lord was Liddell's strength and shield. And even decades after his death, Liddell's passion for Christ still inspires.
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Enjoy these links connected to Liddell's story. This one presents the “deer” song: Bing Videos
Then, here is the movie reenactment of Liddell's Olympic race (skip the preceding ads): Bing Videos