The prickly and the pruned

Besides born-to-bite dogs (see last week’s blog), I encounter many thought-provoking sights during my morning walks. One day I took along my camera to photograph two very different roses just a block apart. One is part of a neglected bed of about four rose bushes. A confusion of spindly canes spill out of the weed-choked soil, bearing few blooms. Another yard has weed-free, pruned, cared-for roses with brilliant flowers.

Their contrasting conditions reminded me of John 15, which records Jesus calling Himself the true vine and His Father the vinedresser. Verse 2: “Every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” Roses aren’t grapevines, but they have commonalities. Both can go wild and get diseased, limiting their fruitfulness. That’s why, in my rose bed, every year I lop off dead or diseased branches, prune off suckers and encourage a “shape” that maximizes strength and access to the sun. The point of it all is to help the branches “abide” in the main stalk, drawing life and nourishment from the soil and water. The spiritual analogy, of course, is that we allow God to prune away the suckers and disease of wrong "me-centered" attitudes and habits that impair abiding in Him.

One of Max Lucado's insightful books is titled It’s Not About Me. In the book's acknowledgements, he told of having a quick visit with an old friend over lunch. Lucado asked him, “What has God been teaching you this year?” The friend responded, “He’s been teaching me that: It’s not about me.” Lucado’s book explores that concept, lifting up the glory of God as a reminder that it’s all about Him.

“Abide in me,” Jesus said, “and I in you.” He is the “main branch” to whom we must remain attached to know true life. The Greek verb (meno) that we usually translate “abide” suggests a continuing, nourishing attachment. No matter if you’re a rose vine or grape vine, you can’t attach and detach at your convenience, like the pump at a gas station. It’s an all-out commitment. And here’s another beauty from that passage. Meno, the verb form of “abide,” has a cousin in the noun form, mone. Know where that’s found? In the incredibly comforting message Jesus left us about heaven in John 14:2: “In my Father’s house are many mone" (most accurately, “dwelling places,” not the misleading idea of "mansions" as some of us grew up reading)." The nature of our residence in Heaven will be intimate connection with the Savior. How that will happen, I’m not sure—but God does.

For now, I see the Creator in carefully-tended roses that help declare the glory of God. And I’m reminded that God loves me so much that He won’t leave me the unruly way I am. He knows how and where I need to be pruned--to abide in Him, and to bring Him the glory.

Sound (grrr)-bite

It happened here....
So much for healthy habits, like walking three-quarters of a mile to the nearest grocery store to buy fresh green beans. Half a block from the store, as I passed a group of apartments with dead grass and junk outside, I remember thinking, What a messy yard. Just then, a resident opened a door and his dog zoomed out, zipped through the hedge, and headed straight for my legs. In seconds the dog had bitten both my calves before his owner grabbed him. When I lifted my pant legs and saw the blood, I knew I had a problem. I remember saying, “I need to wash my wounds.” The residents offered me the garden hose. Eventually, because I pressed the point, they brought out dish soap, some tissue and a bandage. And then I walked home, with lots of time those eight or so blocks to think! I had done nothing to provoke the attack (my thoughts about the unkempt yard never left my brain). I was walking on the public sidewalk at a normal pace. Yet it happened.

Sometimes life is like that. We’re doing what we should, then kaboom, we’re attacked spiritually, emotionally or physically. Even back in the apostle Peter’s time, people were wrestling with this age-old question of why suffering was part of their lives. If they were following Christ, shouldn’t they get a break from life’s tough stuff? The answer is simple: No, because we live in a fallen world.

“Be self-controlled and alert,” Peter counseled the Christians. “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). I’d paraphrase that now: Your enemy the devil is like a vicious dog that specializes in surprise attacks on your calves!

The venerable Bible teacher William MacDonald noted that Satan has different poses. Sometimes he’s on the destructive offensive, like a roaring lion. Having a drinking driver smash into your car (what my family lived through in 1997) is lion-stuff. Other times he’s sneaky as a snake, luring people into negative lifestyle choices like financial irresponsibility or immorality. He also disguises himself as an “angel of light,” who tries to deceive people spiritually. He enjoys hearing people whine, “I deserve better. God isn’t fair to me.” Excuse me? Who isn’t fair? Peter’s advice: “Resist him, standing firm in the faith.” The reason? You’re not the only one under spiritual attack around the world. In some parts of the globe today, it’s bad, really bad for believers.

As for my encounter with an out-of-control dog, I dutifully reported the incident to the Humane Society and had my bites checked at a walk-in clinic. They seem to be healing and so far I’m not foaming at the mouth from rabies. But trust me, I’ve altered my walking route to the grocery store. Hopefully, the opposite side of the street will be safer!

4-H and Weeds

My husband and I recently visited the county fair, browsing exhibits of food, crafts and animals. My favorite: enormous pigs, asleep and crammed into tiny cages like giant packaged sausages (which some of them may become!). In the 4-H crafts building, I noticed an adult mentor conversing with a young 4-H member about her project. The expression on the young person’s face indicated her openness about “doing it better.”

Seeing them reminded me of one of the first verses in Proverbs I memorized as a youngster: “Hear counsel and receive instruction, that thou mayest be wise in thy latter end.” Or, in today’s language: “Listen to advice and accept instruction, and in the end you will be wise” (Proverbs 19:20).

As I grew up, I experienced the truth of that verse when godly adults loved me enough to have the courage to offer “advice” and “instruction” about changes needed in my attitudes and behavior. Some of their counsel was like the four “H’s” of the 4-H program, reflected in other verses of Proverbs:
Head (thought life): “The Lord detests the thoughts of the wicked, but those of the pure are pleasing to him” (Proverbs 15:26).
Heart (values): “Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life” (Proverbs 4:23).
Hands (work ethic): “From the fruit of his lips a man is filled with good things as surely as the work of his hands rewards him” (Proverbs 12:14).
Health (the physical-emotional link): “Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones” (Proverbs 16:24).

So what does weeding have to do with all this? Home from the fair, as clouds moved over the sun to temper an already-hot day, I decided to weed our large rose bed. Kneeling between those thorny bushes with hand tools, I stabbed and pulled, filling a large bin. I found myself comparing weeding to growing in our spiritual walk. Sometimes we’re blind to our spiritual “weeds” until someone who’s more spiritually mature comes along and says, “This doesn’t belong in your life. You need to root it out.”

By the way, the roosters over in the fair’s chicken barn were quite a sight, too. One was strutting all over his three-foot cage and crowing. Talk about pride! And of course there’s a proverb for that: “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18).

Web message (spider type)

I was on my way to refill an empty finch feeder when I found the way blocked by an exquisite orb web. I stopped to admire its delicate, intricate artistry and thought of several things. One was the fun, yet profound, children’s story, Charlotte’s Web. It tells of a barn spider who, in an effort to save a personable pig named Wilbur from being slaughtered, begins weaving words into her webs extolling his virtues. The words bring admirers from miles around, and Wilbur is eventually shown off at the local fair.

The first words that saved Wilbur were “some pig,” “terrific,” and “radiant.” The last word, spun at the fair as the spider was dying (having laid her sac of eggs), was “humble.”

I also knew the Bible had a couple references to spiders, both translated from the Hebrew akkabish, used of the many common spiders of the Holy Land.* In Job 8:14, one of Job’s misguided “comforters,” Bildad, describes those who forget God as having spiritual confidence as fragile as a spider’s web. In Isaiah 59:5-6, the prophet describes the activities of sinful Israelites as useless as a spider’s web. They’re so frail that they can’t even be used as clothing. Not exactly encouraging images!

But if you read about how spiders make webs, you’ll come away with profound appreciation for the God as creator of even spiders. For one, spider silk cannot be dissolved in water and is one of the strongest known natural fibers. Most important, a web is built one strand at a time with admirable determination and endurance. If a spider gives up, there is no web to catch prey for food. I’m reminded of Peter’s second letter, in which he encourages believers to keep building on to the basic foundation of faith. From that main, anchoring thread, we’re to make every effort to live out behaviors that honor God.

Wilbur was “some pig,” “terrific,” and “radiant.” God wants our webs to spell out “goodness,” “knowledge,” “self-control,” “perseverance,” “godliness,” “brotherly kindness,” and “love” (2 Peter 1:5-7). If all these qualities are evident in our Christian walk, we’re not to boast about them. Instead, we’re to be, as that last word for Wilbur, “humble.”

What of my garden web? I crawled w-a-y under it to get to my bird feeder, not wanting to disturb it. I hoped the spider would catch lots of the aphids that had homesteaded in my rhododendrons. And I thanked God that, on this ordinary summer morning, He reminded me of His creative power and purpose.

*(The King James version also uses “spider” in Proverbs 30:28: “The spider taketh hold with her hands and is in king’s palaces.” However, the original Hebrew word is semamith, for which concordances give "poisonous lizard" as a primary meaning. Thus (NASB): “The lizard you may grasp with the hands, yet it is in kings’ palaces.”)

Home-made Hymnal

I was having what might be called an “emotionally-fragile day.” My daughter was somewhere over the Pacific Ocean en route to her life’s new chapter in China. Oh, I missed her already. I was also troubled by an insensitive E-mail I’d gotten from someone. But life had to go on, which included buying groceries the other side of the river that divides the town where I live.

Mindful that my emotions could make me a distracted driver, I was on high alert for traffic issues. Just before the river bridge, as I looked ahead to a certain crosswalk where people often barge across the street without caution, a tune suddenly flooded my mind. Then came snatches of words, “There is a river that never shall run dry.” God had sent the reminder of a spiritual river that flows from deep within, no matter my outward circumstances.

Back home, I searched the hymnals kept on the piano for this song, but couldn’t find it. Then I remembered another source: my home-made hymnal. Years ago, as my learning curve of hymns and Gospel songs steepened, I had started a simple Bible-size three-ring notebook with the lyrics to my favorites. There, in the “T” section, between “Take Time to Be Holy” and “’Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus,” was “There is a River.” I sang the lyrics, remembering how they tell the story of the Samaritan woman who met Jesus at the well. And I realized, once again, that God had brought out of a deep pocket of memory something I needed for the moment: a reminder of the vast supply of His water—His comfort, His love.

Do you have favorite hymns? Have you considered gathering them into your “personal hymnal”? It doesn’t need to be fancy. Mine are hand-written or cut out from song sheets and pasted onto a page. But they’re there, accessible on paper, when I can’t always pull them out of my memory.

On Bravehearts

This week my daughter and her husband (left in the photo) stepped into a profound list of “firsts” as they begin a new chapter of life in China. He will teach English at a large city university, and she will—well, we’re not sure. We’re hoping her extensive music skills will find an outlet.

My memory went back over other firsts in her life. Her first breath (a girl!), those first steps, first day of pre-school…I’ll skip the many childhood firsts and get on to the first day of being a licensed driver, first day away at college, first day away at grad school, and her first day as a bride and wife.

Now--oh, the places she will see and the people she will meet.

As she acclimates to new surroundings and especially a new culture, I think back to times my comfort zones were stretched. Though I did go outside the U.S. borders a few times, most of my changes were within the U.S. and didn’t involve a strange language, “what’s that?”-food choices, masses and masses of people, and less-than-ideal sanitation. But when my parents died and I was on my own 2,000 miles from my “roots,” I did struggle with feeling I didn’t fit in…until some scriptures grabbed my heart.

One was Psalm 37:3: “Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.” Three verbs stood out: trust, do, enjoy. I chose to trust that even in the negatives, God wouldn’t leave me. I had to take the initiative to do good in the tasks and relationships that unfolded. Then, in a pastoral image, I was to enjoy this place where the Shepherd had led me to graze.

A few pages later, in Psalm 68, came another reminder of God’s love to those with missing links in their earthly families. Mindful of the dangers of self-pity (“the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land,” v. 6), I connected as soon as possible with a church and volunteered in its ministries. I was there only a year before moving away, but because of those connections, thirty years later I am still in touch with one precious couple from there.

One more Bible passage, Jeremiah 29, spoke to me about accepting God’s plan about living in a new place. The circumstances surrounding this passage were a bit different than mine, as the Jews’ move to exile in Babylon came about as a result of punishment, not a step of faith. I cannot begin to imagine what it was like to travel by foot or pack animal, under the uncaring prods of enemy soldiers, over the deserts to the land of their conquerors. But once there, God didn’t want them to give up. The prophet Jeremiah gave them God’s instructions: to accept this foreign land as their home for now. Family, farming and commercial life were to go on, and they were to seek the peace and prosperity of this adopted homeland (v. 8).

Many may not realize that Jeremiah’s letter was the context of the golden words of hope in verse 11: “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

Many also forget that this promise is immediately followed in verse 12 by the obedience of prayer: “Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”

Prayer has covered this move for my daughter and her husband. I believe they will “trust, do, and enjoy” in this land away from their homeland. And even when I can’t hug them in person, I’ll be hugging them in my heart as they encounter many, many “firsts.”

Attitude check-up

My son drives a car that’s pushing 200,000 miles on the odometer—and I feel a bit like that when I go to the doctor for my annual checkup, as I did a few days ago. The good news is that I’m still “good for the road,” despite the inevitable maladies of aging.

As I came home from being prodded and poked and peered into, I thought of another “checkup” I need from time to time. This one concerns attitudes of “sluggard-ness,” and it gets its exam questions straight out of the book of Proverbs. Among its probing questions:
Do I trust God or cling to unfounded fears? A sluggard fears what is unlikely to happen: “There is a lion outside....I will be murdered in the streets” (Prov. 22:13).
Do I embrace or resist life’s challenges? The sluggard would rather stay in bed than face life: “As a door turns on its hinges, so a sluggard turns on his bed” (Prov. 26:14). He wants an easy life on his own terms, as in this image of needing someone to feed him: “The sluggard buries his hand in the dish; he will not even bring it back to his mouth” (Prov. 19:24).
Am I a “doer” or a “quitter”? The sluggard, says Proverbs 6:10, would rather sleep life away, either literally or by doing nothing. In contrast are the ants (vv. 6-8), which shoulder on in gathering food. Proverbs 20:4 says the sluggard doesn’t plow when it’s time to plow. By procrastinating, he doesn’t reap a crop when others do.
Do I seek solutions or get stuck in problems? The sluggard sees only problems. His way is blocked with thorns (Proverbs 15:19), meaning he gives up too easily.
Am I a learner or a know-it-all? Proverbs 26:16 nails the difference: “The sluggard is wiser in his own eyes than seven men who answer discreetly.”
Do I take care of what God has given me? The includes material possessions as well as abilities and opportunities. Proverbs 24:30-31 says the sluggard’s home and fields are broken down and full of weeds because he doesn’t take care of them. Proverbs 12:27 says if the sluggard goes hunting, he doesn’t dress and roast his game. He lets it rot.

Proverbs 13:4 says “the sluggard craves and gets nothing.” What an utterly sad verse! Thankfully, there’s a second part, a positive opposite: “but the desires of the diligent are fully satisfied.” Even though I don’t have the energy of my “younger” self, I can still set daily goals that seek to bring honor to God. Unlike the “real” garden slug, who leaves a slimy trail, I can leave, with God’s help, something positive behind.