BEDSIDE BUDDIES

I'm trying to break a habit—of having way too many books on my bedside table. I know of folks who can't head for bed until they've watched the 10 o'clock evening news. I fade before then, preferring to let God's Word or wisdom from others who've absorbed spiritual truths be my “last thoughts” of the day. So, yes, some classic and edifying books are stacked next to my alarm clock.

Here are the books I'd accumulated at bedside before my recent pare-down (I kept about half bedside). The ones I removed are now on an office bookshelf—still appreciated as faithful “book friends” to which I will return for spiritual challenge and hope.

*The Disciplines of Life by V. Raymond Edman (c. 1948). He was the fourth president of Wheaton College in Illinois (1941-1965) and then was college chancellor. He died in 1967 while speaking to students in the college chapel. Today, the chapel at this well-known Christian college bears his name. So do the titles of 19 Christian books. This one develops 31 seemingly negative circumstances (all starting with the letter “d,” like “danger” and “disillusionment”) and draws from them their hidden spiritual blessings. In other words, looking at the “good” that can come out of life's “bad.”

*The Amplified New Testament (c. 1958). I have my mother's copy of this devotional (she died in 1978). I appreciate the “enlargement” of original Greek word meanings in its text (designated by parenthesis) plus am touched to see which verses she had underlined in red.

*My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers (c. 1935). Based on devotionals he delivered in England and to English troops stationed in Egypt (1911-1917).

*Streams in the Desert by Mrs. Charles Cowman (c. 1966). Classic devotional by former missionary, draws heavily from classic Christian literature.

*Be Worshipful by Warren Wiersbe (c. 2004). An insightful and practical study of Psalms. I had the privilege of meeting this pastor/teacher/writer when he spoke to my graduate class at Wheaton College.

*The Practice of Godliness (1983) and The Pursuit of Holiness (1978) by Jerry Bridges. Lived-through, challenging studies of these spiritual qualities by a man long associated with The Navigators ministry.

*Hurt People Hurt People by Dr. Sandra Wilson (c. 2001). This former family therapist's insights helped me navigate past emotional wounding.

*Healing for Damaged Emotions by David Seamands (c. 1981). Helpful for healing from challenging relationships, meaningful for same reason as Dr. Wilson's book (above).

Yes, I also have a Bible on my bedside table—actually, a small, lightweight New Testament for those “final moments of the night” that I like to close with something from God's Word. Its small size also helps me with scripture memorization. No more hoisting my heavy reference Bible back and forth for that discipline of getting God's Word “inside” me.

I have to confess that a few years ago, my evening “habit” included one of the prime-time TV game shows. I enjoyed trying to beat the contestants to the right answer. But the Lord drew me away from that, reminding me of the better priority of absorbing His love letter to me with its messages of hope and help for life's challenges. I rarely watch television anymore.

I get little reader feedback from this blog, though the internet statistics show many are clicking into it. Would you care to share your favorite bedside books in the comments section below?

DUSTY....

“Dusty”--the nickname for characters in decades-ago cowboy movies or shows--amuses me. Who'd name their kid after dirt? Then I checked a “baby name” book and learned it's related to the Old German for “Dustin,” meaning “valiant fighter.” I guess that would fit for cranky men-of-the-wild-west who had showdowns on Main street. But my relationship with this “dusty” picture had more to do with the angst of housework. If you noticed the picture, you already figured out the culprit.

Are you ready for the ingredients of so-called “dust bunnies”? Dust-researchers suggest they (the “bunnies,” of course) may contain (besides dust) hair, lint, flakes of dead skin, spider webs, pet dander, and pollen. Hmm, sounds like what might have gone in the potion that the wicked queen Grimhilde (in the 1937 Disney cartoon version) cooked up for the poisoned apple she offered (incognito) to pure-hearted Snow White.

“Dust” has lowly but significant symbolism in scripture. First, the Bible says we start and end as dust. God crafted the first man from “dust.” At death, we return to “dust” as our physical bodies deteriorate (1). Between the “born” and “die” dates, dust expressed emotions, as when an angry person threw it or shook it off (2). Placed on one's head, it expressed grief (3).

Another image: an old, abandoned house, full of junk, cobwebs and dust. Some Bibles get that way. They might get a dusting-off when grabbed for the trip to Sunday morning services. I remember Sunday school contests for Bible-bringing-faithfulness. But between Sundays, it was back to “dust.”

If that sounds familiar—if reading through the Bible (Genesis through Revelation) is something you've never done, and want to do, there's help. Some Christian publishers now offer Bibles “styled” with a one-year reading plan. The internet has downloadable Bible-reading plans: Free Downloadable Bible Reading Plans - Search Images Or you might do a simple division problem: divide its 1189 chapters by 365 days. That works out to about 4 chapters a day for a year's read-through.

Some parts of the Bible are slow-go, especially the prophets and Old Testament genealogies. (I just trudged through Leviticus. Besides the big lessons of “purity” and “sacrifice,” I wondered how the priests laundered their blood-stained garments!) Read for understanding, for blessing, for heart-stirring. “Study Bibles” help. So do time-honored survey books like Henrietta Mears' The Bible and What It's All About. Slow down if needed. But find the jewels, the things that “speak to me.” God-lessons.

Just don't let it gather dust.

(1) Genesis 2:7, 3:19; (2) Matt. 10:14, Acts 13:51; (3) Joshua 7:6, Job 2:12, Lamentations 2:10, Ezekiel 27:30, Revelation 18:19.

BOOKS, BOOKS, BOOKS

 Oh, the height and depth and length of....the books stacked high at one of our local thrift stores. Best wishes finding a particular title in their random stacking!

True confessions: I have my own cache of inspirational books, many of them re-read for encouragement and challenge. When I know I'll be somewhere that I have to wait (like in a medical office reception area), I tuck a book in my purse. While most of those waiting are mindlessly thumbing their smart phones, I'm absorbing an inspirational paper “messenger” that challenges and lifts me.

My college and grad school career included reading in many subject areas to satisfy the curriculum requirements. At quarter's end, I sold them back to the bookstore or later gave them away in “periodic possession purges.” My current “office” (my daughter's old 8x9-foot bedroom) has two full bookshelves of helpful books. I also keep books by my bed stand and my recliner rocker. Most are Christian living or Bible study books. But the book most important to me—usually by my rocker, my “quiet place”--has worn bindings.

I have some way-out-there “heroes” of people with a deep, devout passion for scripture. One was John Wesley, known to the world as the “man of one book,” In his youth at Oxford University he became a well-read man of the scholarship and literature of his day. But the Bible eclipsed all as his guide and life-changer.

He wrote this in his “Preface to Sermons” (words that have become famous—take the time to imagine yourself back in his study as he scratched this with an ink-dipped quill):

O candid, reasonable men, I am not afraid to lay open what have been the inmost thoughts of my heart. I have thought, I am a creature of a day, passing through life as an arrow through the air. I am a spirit come from God, and returning to God: just hovering over the great gulf; till, a few moments hence, I am no more seen; I drop into an unchangeable eternity! I want to know one thing,—the way to heaven; how to land safe on that happy shore. God himself has condescended to teach me the way.

For this very end He came from heaven. He hath written it down in a book. O give me that book! At any price, give me the book of God! I have it: here is knowledge enough for me. Let me be homo unius libri [“man of one book”]. Here then I am, far from the busy ways of men. I sit down alone; only God is here. In His presence I open, I read His book; for this end, to find the way to heaven.

Is there a doubt concerning the meaning of what I read? Does anything appear dark or intricate? I lift up my heart to the Father of Lights:—“Lord, is it not Thy word, ‘if any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God?’ Thou givest liberally, and upbraidest not. Thou hast said, ‘if any be willing to do Thy will, he shall know.’ I am willing to do, let me know Thy will.” I then search after and consider parallel passages of Scripture, “comparing spiritual things with spiritual.” I meditate thereon with all the attention and earnestness of which my mind is capable. If any doubt still remains, I consult those who are experienced in the things of God: and then the writings whereby, being dead, they yet speak. And what I thus learn, that I teach. (1)

I cannot add to what he wrote, only aspire to have the same compelling desire to know God through His Word.

(1) John Wesley (1703-1791). A Man of One Book. Vol. IV. Eighteenth Century. Henry Craik, ed. 1916. English Prose (bartleby.com) .

FAVORITES

All I have to do is say “Cuddles the Cow” and hold up a simple thick-page book, and my second grandson, Zion, comes right over to my lap.  At three, he’s developed a preference for anything with mechanical noises or retelling the adventures of “Thomas the Train.”  But this little book, about a mama cow and her calf (whose nose she tickles—and I then tickle Zion’s nose), which takes barely two minutes to read, at this point is one of his favorites.

His older brother, Josiah, in toddlerhood favored a little book about the habits of cats!  One page told about a bad cat scratching the furniture.  Never fail, he’d reach over and claw the drawing and say, “Bad cat!” Their home had a connection point for that: a “bad cat” who similarly reached under the furniture covers to scratch!

When our grandsons come over for care, these books (culled from yard sales) are among the dozens in two bookcases in our living room.  Yes, we have a cache of other toys, but I always try to include “reading time” during their visits to us.  It’s paid off. The other day I opened a simple book with Josiah (not yet 5) and ran my finger along the text...and listened to him sound out the words and read it to me.  His mom takes them to the library and they regularly read to the boys—and it’s reaping benefits.

Soon, I hope, their spiritual development will blossom and they’ll come to the point where they can live out the words of an Old Testament prophet: “When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart’s delight, for I bear your name, O Lord God Almighty” (Jeremiah 15:16).

I am grateful for pastors, Christian speakers, and writers who have helped me “eat” God’s Word. So many passages have become my “joy and heart’s delight” as I learn to praise God and trust Him in the hard and confusing times.  You’ll find lots of colored underlining in my Bible, a virtual rainbow of promises that have entered my heart.  They’re the places where God has “tickled my nose” or reminded me of bad habits (like cats who scratch furniture).

At different times in my life, different scripture passages have become “favorites” as I have needed comfort, assurance, instruction and admonition.  Recently I’ve been going through Proverbs to help me sort out why some people are so hard to get along with. But then I dip back into other passages, like Romans 8 and how nothing of the world’s problems can keep me from God’s amazing love. I memorized that chapter a few months before my world crashed with my parents’ deaths only six months apart. Did I need that word of encouragement? You know I did!

I know my grandsons will soon “graduate” beyond Cuddles and Thomas (and even Winnie the Pooh, still a favorite). I’m glad to share the world of children’s literature with them.  But I will also pray that they will yearn for—yes, “eat”—God’s Word, and grow up as strong, true men of God.  

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.