IN A NUTSHELL

When weeding one day, I came across this stalk which revealed its origin when pulled from the soil. A future walnut tree! If planted and nurtured, given a few years (or decades), I could have harvested a few buckets to crack, hull and stuff in a freezer bag for future cooking projects. (Sorry, tossed it in the garbage.) Later, however, I thought of how our super-charged world likes simple things: big concepts reduced to catch phrases. Big ideas to a nutshell.

The Gospel is like that, yet not like that. It's a big idea, condensed often to easy-to-recall verses like “God so loved the world that He gave....” (John 3:16). It's also like the potential of something really big and nurturing to the world—the transformation of a sin-preferring human being into a humble person loving God with everything he or she has within him or her. I think Peter suggests this in his second letter to churches:

But grow in grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever. (2 Peter 3:18)

This stalwart statement came from a man of energy and convictions, his early character shaped in the turbulent and unpredictable waters of the Sea of Galilee. Sometimes fish filled his nets, sometimes not. Making a living was hard, then it got harder when a Teacher came to the shoreline and said, “Follow me.” Without a salary or a 401K or any of the financial tools we have today. Living.On.Faith.

The man who once wielded needles and twine to mend his fishing nets would find himself crafting words and admonitions to teach and encourage those drawn to the teachings of the Son of God. In becoming a “fisher of men,” he learned to pay attention to human character instead of the water and the weather.

I often return to the first chapter of 2 Peter and his description of growing godly character. One builds on another: faith, goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, love. Such attributes of character are to grow “in increasing measure....[to] keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 1:8).

In a nutshell, that's the Gospel. Let Jesus change you, and plant you, to change the world.

BOOSTER SEAT

The grand-boys had come for dinner, and as little Jimmy (then 4 ½) stood by “his” chair, he touched the strapped-in “booster chair” and said, “Nana, I don't need this anymore.” Oh, another milestone of growth. First, he was a babe in arms. Then he sat in a high-chair where he slopped his food all over the tray. Finally, he was promoted to the “big people table” in a booster seat next to his brothers, with his own plastic dishes and place mat.

Hearing his request, I unstrapped and removed the booster, and he sat down, way down, so that his chin was almost even with the tabletop. Knowing he wouldn't want to resume the “booster seat” era, I found a thin foam pillow for him to sit on to give him a little height. That suited him just fine. Growing up with stair-step older brothers, he's tried hard to keep up with them. And even a little matter of outgrowing the booster seat was important to him.

Someday, even, he will grow out of the “foam pillow” boost, and his chin will steadily rise from table-level. Someday, that chin will have whiskers! I'm not sure I'll still be around for that, but for now, I'm glad I can encourage his desire to “not be a baby anymore.”

Later on, that incident got me thinking about “baby Christians” and the need to grow past the basics of accepting Jesus' death for our sins, and growing in the faith. One of my spiritual mentors years ago (a godly senior – the age I am now!) challenged me with her faith-walk and consistent scripture memory program. For some reason, this verse she recited to me—with a tear in the corner of her eye-- stands out from all the others:

But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever. Amen. 2 Peter 3:18 (KJV)

Even at her age, this godly woman didn't consider herself Christian "enough” to coast with her current faith-walk. She was always growing, always praying, always reading and memorizing scripture. And it showed—in her eternal confidence and compassion for her family and the bigger needs of the world. She was into the “real meat” of scripture and into the “real heart” of prayer. I loved her and learned from her.

I think her distinctive spiritual character was that she loved her Jesus and she loved the scriptures. Her Bible was so well-used that it seemed molded to her lap. Such intimacy with God's Word doesn't come from haphazard reading or a quickie in a devotional. As I observe today's media culture (computer/smart phone addiction to gaming, social sites, other entertainment) capture the hearts of this next generation, I wonder: where will be the spiritual giants? Will they succeed in saying “no” to excesses of entertaining videos or social media to cultivate the most important relationship of all—that with the Lord Jesus? Will they grow out of the “baby habits” of a snitch of scripture here or there (if any) and really “chew” on mature spiritual food? Will their lives show it?

Such questions I ask myself: have I moved on from baby food to real spiritual meat? Is it making a difference in my life? Does scripture “give me a boost” to love my Savior even more?

MAKING THE 'GRADE'

I was sewing a little dress for my 4-year-old granddaughter when the pattern's directions reminded me of a word I hadn't heard in a while: “grade.” Reaching back to my high school home economics classes (half a century ago!), I recalled the revelation that “grade” refers to how seams on curves (like for collars or faced arm holes) needed to be clipped and then one side cut closer to the seam stitches. That way, when turned right-side out, the seam wouldn't be as bulky. So “grade” I did.

That got me thinking about how Christians need to undergo some “grading” by the Master Tailor. I'm not talking some A-B-C (like in school) of how “spiritual” you are. Rather, it's how He sees parts of our fallen personality that need to be cut away so that His better plan for our lives can be achieved. That's the point of Hebrews 12, which focuses on how spiritual discipline (trimming and cutting ungodly traits and habits) is part of God's plan to grow us as children of faith. “Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best,” Hebrews 12:10 says, “but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in His holiness.” The eventual result is to be “a harvest of righteousness and peace” (v. 11).

The Bible doesn't give a lot of ink to seamstresses, but we can rightfully conclude that hand-sewing clothes of hand-loomed fabric was an intensive process. The Old Testament priests wore specially-hand-tailored and embellished uniforms (Exodus 28). We also know about a New Testament believer, Dorcas, who gifted the poor with her sewing (Acts 9). Jesus' clothing included a seamless undergarment, so special that the soldiers who crucified Him gambled to see who'd get it (John 19:23-24).

Perhaps a better picture of the value of handcrafts comes from the construction of the temple. It wasn't thrown together haphazardly. The stones were cut and groomed to precision measurements before being taken to the temple building side. And there's the analogy. The Christian walk is not just “saying a prayer” and then making minor lifestyle adjustments. It's a radical change from the original raw “me.” It's letting God chisel away the rough and ungodly parts until we're shaped for His kingdom:

You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. (1 Peter 2:5)

To pull it back to the imagery of clothing construction, we're to be like carefully-crafted garments to reflect the holiness and beauty of God. Haphazard living—ignoring sin here and there—is like a wiggly zipper or a puckered collar. When God decides to “grade” (trim) us in the process of spiritual growth, He has good reason for it.

The little dress (sundress or jumper) I sewed my granddaughter wasn't perfect, but it was the best I could do. I made the skirt extra full so she could twirl in it and pretend she was a ballerina. She will outgrow it, of course, as I hope she will also outgrow childish ways and steadily become a woman of God. It will mandate regular “grading”--trimming away of attitudes and behaviors that are wrong—but the end result will be worth it.

Yesterday was my mother's birthday. She was born in 1919 and died at 59 in 1978, leaving behind a crammed "sewing room." 

IN PROGRESS

A few weeks after this photo was taken,
we enjoyed colorful tulips. By summer's end,
the sticks at upper left become a mass of 
yellow (see photo at bottom).

An old weathered tub planter helps us welcome two growing seasons. In March we see the first hints of tulips. Within a month, after they've bloomed their hearts out and curled up, the cut-back twigs of marigolds stir and bring on a glowing yellow crown by August. What both have in common is many hours of sun from a south and west exposure.

And isn't that like our spiritual walks? The more we walk with God, absorbing the Son-reflected truths of scripture, the stronger the spiritual bloom. I thought of that principle in reading a devotional book by David Roper, The Strength of a Man (Discovery House, 1989). (It was a gift to my husband, but I read it, too.) As is my habit, I dog-eared pages that said “something more” to me. One was this, quoting an ancient spiritual thinker, Spain's St. John of the Cross (1542-1591), probably best known for his writings about the “dark night of the soul.” Roper drew these observations from the ancient writer:

St. John of the Cross says that walking with God produces three distinguishing characteristics in men—tranquility, gentleness, and strength. When He's by our side all our actions can be peaceful, gentle, and strong. Which suggests an immense depth of relationship that comes from time spent with our Lord, who 'works always in tranquility.' Anxiety, intensity, intolerance, instability, pessimism, and every kind of hurry and worry—even on the highest levels, are signs of the man who walks alone, the self-made and self-acting soul. God's men are seldom of that order. They share the quiet and noble qualities of the One with whom they walk. (p. 112)

The pandemic has forced people to more “alone” time, which has also translated to more media exposure (television, internet) as well as more reading time. Each of us has faced choices in how to use that time in feeding our minds and spirits. The character of those who entertain us on the media are not likely to reflect the “quiet and noble qualities of the One with whom they walk.” Sadly, for many, they become role models that pull us away from the character of God.

The reflective, spiritual walk is not achieved in spurts of guilt and “getting back to God.” It's the long, patient growing process that the Bible gives: The Word (scriptures), prayer, meditation and service. Or, to go back to my plants-in-tub illustration, it's daily seeking the life-giving rays of the Son of Righteousness in this slow process called “spiritual growth.” When we turn things over to Him, oh the possibilities!

Faith's steps

When I re-read Philippians 2:12-13, an unlikely setting comes to mind: the girl’s locker room of my town’s original junior high school. There, about forty years ago as a fresh-from-college newspaper reporter, I joined a young radio reporter in interviewing entertainer Pat Boone—yes, he of the white shoes fame. The celebrity had been invited as speaker for an all-city Easter worship service. But just before he went on stage in the football field adjacent to the junior high, these novice reporters had  a few minutes with him. I think the radio’s reporter asked the question: “What is your favorite Bible verse?” Quickly, Boone quoted these two verses of Philippians 2:
Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure.
Here I was, with fear and trembling as a green-behind-the-ears reporter, facing a celebrity musician. Boone’s reply reminded me that no matter our station in life, we stand in humility beneath the Cross..  Our purpose is not to pile up accolades but to live in obedience to Christ.  We’re not to work for our salvation (it’s already been secured through Christ’s death on the cross) but to work out, in steps of obedience that change our behavior to Christlikeness.

These stairs, photographed at a community park, remind me of how the Christian walk is a progression of steps upward as God works in our lives, giving us “the desire to obey Him and the power to do what pleases him” (Philippians 2:13 NLT).  Similarly, Peter added in his second letter, “His [God’s] divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness”   (1 Peter 1:3).

Think of “going higher” with God as via Peter’s words on spiritual growth:

For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. 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 (2 Peter 1:5-8).

This doesn’t say that you conquer the step of “goodness” and then the step of “knowledge,” and so on.  Rather, in each step of our walk with Christ, all these attributes of godliness should increase.  If they don’t, here’s Peter’s warning:

But anyone does not have them, he is nearsighted and blind, and has forgotten that he has been cleansed from his past sins. Therefore, my brothers, be all the more eager to make your calling and election sure (v.9).

Peter’s last phase (“be all the more eager”) seems to echo Paul’s (“work out...with fear and trembling”). Salvation isn’t about plopping down on the first step of “knowing God” through a “spiritual decision,” and leaving it at that. Instead, it’s taking spiritual growth one step at a time, with “fear and trembling,” for we serve a holy God. But we do this with eagerness because of all that He has done for us!

Dismantling tent city

I count four blankets in this playroom chaos from the '80s

Destructive beings called preschoolers used to sabotage my living room, turning it into tent city. I admit: I permitted the mess, thinking it supported budding creativity. Sheets, blankets, pillows, the card table, chairs, mop handles and other handy materials became the secret castle. On occasion, I indulged them with lunch under the “canopy,” with a plastic tablecloth underneath it all in case the milk runneth over.

But we had a rule: tent city all came down by 3:30, when Dad came home from his job. After a day of alligator-wrestling, er, teaching elementary students, the man of the house deserved peace, not pillars of pillows. A clean floor, not one littered with tiny plastic snap-blocks and tinier dolly high heels. Quiet, not quaos (hey, it rhymes).  With apologies to Isaiah 40:3-4, the crooked got straightened out and the rough places made plain. Okay, I’m switching metaphors. Isaiah’s came from times when roads would have been test tracks for four-wheel-drive vehicles--which, of course, they didn’t have. Emperor coming through? Call the beefed-up road crew (aka slaves)!  Fill the potholes! Dump the hill dirt into the valleys! Prepare a smooth way for His Highness’s chariot!

But maybe there’s a connection. Growing in Christ means becoming aware of the rocks and holes in our spiritual lives. It’s deciding the “sin-mess” isn’t what we want when He comes back to earth again. And it may happen sooner than we think.  My preschoolers would have said “amen” to that when I poked a ticking timer under the “tent.” In fifteen minutes “Tent City” had to be past tense.  There were always great wails and gnashing of teeth. But at least their Dad wouldn’t break his neck.

Hairy Decisions

I am a “kitchen barber” who is often called for buzz-duty as the world is waking up. That way my only client (hubby) can take his morning shower right after I run the clipper over his head to restore it to the quarter-inch hair-length he prefers. Forget the hype of shampoo ads. You don’t need much for stubble maintenance. Our utilitarian approach to one’s crowning glory is why one of the long-time family jokes about vanity concerns hair. About fifteen years ago, a young woman who visited us got into a conversation (somehow) about hair products. As she told how she uses only the very best, she flipped her long tresses and said, “My hair is important to me.” We nodded politely. She hadn’t seen what’s on our tub ledge: cheap stuff, usually bought on sale with a coupon.

Apparently hair was important to the apostle Paul, too, as he prepared to leave Achaia (Greece) for Jerusalem on his second missionary journey. Acts 18:18 says he was in Corinth’s eastern port city, Cenchrea, when he had his hair cut “because of a vow he had taken.” Scholars say this was a “Nazirite vow,” detailed in Numbers 6 for those who sought to focus in a special way on God’s calling. The Bible’s most infamous “Nazirite” was Samson, who didn’t live up to all the vow’s requirements, which included (besides letting one’s hair grow out) avoiding wine and contact with dead bodies. Oh yes, focusing on purity, which went downhill when Delilah came into view. Though it wasn’t required of Christians, Paul apparently reached back into his Jewish heritage for an outward reminder of his need of God’s empowerment in mission work in Macedonia and Corinth. Now, his second mission trip nearing a conclusion, he was ready to end the vow, recognizing that God had indeed heard his prayers for help.

Paul didn’t follow all the rules for the Nazirite vow, which included bringing a sacrifice to the “tent of meeting” (by then the temple in Jerusalem) and having his hair cut on the spot to toss on the altar with the slain animal. He wouldn’t reach Jerusalem for weeks, after some side trips to what’s now the country of Turkey. Rather than getting all hung up on the rules of an Old Testament act of consecration, here’s the part of the whole “hairy” experience worth considering. When faced with a calling bigger than we could ever think of doing on our own, are we ready to seek the Lord with honest earnestness, admitting our dependence on Him? Maybe this was behind Paul’s statement in a letter to one of the churches he left behind in Achaia (Greece). By now a prisoner in Rome, he wrote the church at Philippi, “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6, emphasis added).

And here’s another idea for applying the de-hairing principle. Do we care more about how we look on the outside than what’s inside, at soul level? Are we willing to God trim, shave, or even uproot the shaggy sins hiding there? Soul-care should be very important to us.

The Test of the Scary Black Notes

I read The Great Church Christmas Orchestra Recruitment Letter and said, “I can do this.” When the music arrived, I said, “Can I really do this?” To understand my reaction, you need to know that I play the violin “somewhat.” On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being a squawky beginner and 10 fairly proficient, I consider myself about a 2.7. The number usually suffers when I’m handed music parts that have notes so high I’m almost scratching my chin, or that include 32nd notes in seven flats played at warp speed. And that’s what happened. Admittedly, 95% of the music was at my skill level. But it was the 5% at the musical prodigy level that made me wonder if I even qualified for my preferred perch of last chair, second violin.

To be honest, that’s been my story ever since I picked up a violin in seventh grade. I despaired of sounding any better than a cat in heat. The other way to get better was to try and try—and keep practicing. By the time I was a high school senior, I sat as first chair of the high school orchestra. Then I toted my violin to college and discovered the bar for excellence was raised by students with years of private lessons behind them. Again, the only option was to keep trying and practicing. And I did get better. Then came non-music jobs, marriage, motherhood and a host of other commitments, and my violin took a long nap in its case. My skills went downhill.

But the other day as I practiced those jet-travel (high & fast)sections of the program music, I realized that’s a picture of how God “grows” us into the people of faith and trust that He planned for us to be. Whatever the means—be it a challenging job, stretching college course, or a difficult relationship—we have two choices. We can bail out, fearing failure, or push on, trusting God to get us through it and develop our character in the process.

Robert McGee addresses this in his book The Search for Significance. The thrust of the book is helping people identify negative outlooks and habits and replace them with a Biblically-based foundation of God’s view of them. One of the common false beliefs he discusses is this: “I am what I am; I cannot change. I am hopeless.” Such a perspective is typical of those who feel they’ll never be successful in life, who blame their failures on being undisciplined, who can’t trust God, who say “That’s just the way I am,” and who claim they just can’t overcome a particular sin.

Such negative attitudes crash right up against this truth--to borrow from the famed “Four Spiritual Laws,” that God loves us and has a wonderful plan for our lives, one connected to new life in Jesus Christ. Trusting Him is not mere "fire insurance" (to avoid hell), but a remodeling process. To bring the analogy back to music practice, moving forward with God’s program is a learning and re-training process. It’s loosening up unyielding thought patterns (and, with violin, my age-stiffened fingers).

I won’t claim to now play the pieces perfectly, but I’ll give it my best effort come performance time. I’ll remember God’s promise of help: “I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10). And I’m counting on His right hand helping my struggling left hand with all those busy notes! After all, the main purpose of this is to bring praise to Jesus, and His coming to earth as a baby to be our Savior.

Beyond first steps

Photo: Symbols of babyhood--a bonnet and chunky books.
A few weeks ago, the media reported that an 18-year-old from the Philippines was now the record-holder as the “World’s Smallest Man.” This person quit growing at age one year and is only twenty-two inches tall. He has difficulties speaking, easily falls, and must stay home under his mother’s protective care.His family hoped his notoriety of getting in the Guinness Book of Records would help them find medical care for him.

Hormonal anomalies are certainly to blame for this poor young man’s problems. But his situation got me thinking. What if our physical appearance matched our spiritual and emotional maturity?

Both physical and spiritual “growing up” depend on good food and healthy relationships. On the spiritual side, the “food,” of course, is God’s Word—not just head knowledge, but changed-heart results. The apostle Peter said that new believers need “pure spiritual milk” to grow up in their salvation (1 Peter 2:2). Peter also gave us a progressive list of spiritual growth, beginning with faith, then adding knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness and love (2 Peter 1:5-7). Those latter qualities are honed through social relationships.

I thank God that I had people in my life who cared deeply that I grow spiritually. They helped me develop social skills, challenged me to discover more about myself through volunteering, encouraged me to persevere in difficulties, and prayed for me and with me in life’s tough places.

“Not failure, but low aim, is a sin,” wrote Dr. Benjamin Mays, an American minister and social activist. The rest of his quote goes like this: “The tragedy of life doesn’t lie in not reaching your goal. The tragedy lies in having no goal to reach. It isn’t a calamity to die with dreams unfulfilled, but it is a calamity not to dream. It is not a disgrace to not reach the stars, but it is a disgrace not to have stars to reach for.”

James said the person “who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins” (4:17). We may have failures along the way, but God says to get up, dust yourself off, and try again. You don’t need to stay stunted, afraid of falling.

God cares about this whole spiritual-growing-up process: “The Lord delights in the way of the man whose steps he has made firm; though he stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand” (Psalm 37:23-24).

Lessons from a pint-size violinist

“Here comes my favorite violin student,” I said as Rebecca came in for her weekly lesson.

“Because I’m your ONLY violin student,” the nine-year-old replied with a big grin. Leaving her pint-size violin on the couch, she headed to the kitchen for a quick after-school snack. Hey, it’s 4:15 p.m. and she just came from school. Need some fuel for brain power!

Since early March, I’ve enjoyed having my first-ever violin student. Though I’ve played violin since age 12, I never considered myself a music teacher. Thus, when her family called in February asking for teacher recommendations, I threw out others’ names.

Explaining they only wanted a two-month run at lessons—this was the gift she really wanted for her ninth birthday—I agreed to it. Just before the two months were up, Rebecca took $10 out of her own piggy bank to help with another month of instrumental rental and asked please, please just another month of lessons.

She’s not your usual beginner for whom music notes are a foreign language. Piano and trumpet already in her background, she jumped several typical lessons by just watching the video that came with her beginner music book.

Working with a beginning violinist has reminded me of several parallels with the Christian walk.

1. You’re special to God. Max Lucado is widely quoted for suggesting, “If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it” (from Prayer: A Heavenly Invitation). Dare I say: If God had a violin student, you’d be His favorite student. You’d be the apple of His eye (Psalm 17:8), His chosen one. Because you are!

2. There’s a learning curve. That first lesson, I explained about the instrument and how to care for it. I quickly sewed her a “shoulder pad” (from my sewing scraps) to help her hold the violin correctly. I modeled how to hold the bow with her right hand and place her left hand on the fingerboard. I warned her against “choking” the violin’s neck in her left-hand position, and made appropriate gasping sounds to reinforce the point. I think back to my baby steps in learning about the Bible, like memorizing the books of the Bible and grasping the basics about the fall of man, Jewish history, and Jesus’ life. I couldn’t have handled the profound meaning of “propitiation” as a young believer any more than Rebecca can do “vibrato” or “seventh position” yet. God teaches us at His good pace.

3. You need to practice. It’s not enough to show up for lessons. Learning to play an instrument has no “auto-pilot” mode where you punch the right buttons and cruise on. It takes training fingers, arms, and ears through repetition. I could tell when a piece I assigned Rebecca turned out to be a favorite. She practiced it more! Spiritual “practice” includes praying and thoughtfully reading the Bible. Eventually, even the “hard” parts will come. (I keep telling myself that as I read through Ezekiel. This morning, working through the “sheep chapter” of Ezekiel 34, I marked all the incredible “I will” promises from God. They cover a lot more about life than even Psalm 23!)

4. Enjoy the process. As soon as Rebecca had enough skills, I wrote out a song that I said would be very useful to learn: “Happy Birthday.” Rebecca grinned and said her sister had a birthday the following month. I practice what I preach! A few weeks ago, my calendar reminded me that an eighty-something friend, who teaches a Bible study at a senior living facility, had a birthday coming up. The day of her study, I toted my violin to the facility. As her study ended, I came in playing the “birthday song.” Surprised her? Absolutely. What fun! One of the great parts of being connected with other Christians is sharing the simple joys of life.

Rebecca’s last lesson with me is May 28. The little violin goes back to the music store and she heads for summer vacation. Will violin emerge ahead of piano or trumpet as a first love? I don’t know. But I applaud her parents for enriching her life with music experiences. And I thank God for bringing her bright, eager face into my life for the last three months.