Lost and found

Oh, the things that people lose at church! Bibles, and more Bibles. Copious numbers of coats, caps, and casserole pans. Pacifiers and mouth guards. Planners that didn’t get planned in. Journals that journeyed out of sight.


At least once a year, usually twice, my church displays the lost wares that are normally tucked out of sight in a cabinet marked “lost and found.” People whose names are inscribed inside Bibles are contacted. Some come retrieve them, some don’t.

If my Bible got lost, I’d be turning every pew upside down to find it. It’s full of devotional and sermon notes. I’d really, really miss it.

In thinking about our lost-and-found table, I considered the Bible's stories about lost things. Four are slotted into the Gospel of Luke, right after another:

*Salt that has lost its flavor (Luke 14:34-35). In Bible times, salt didn’t come in the pure crystalline form we have for table salt. It included impurities that remained as residues in the bottom of salt containers. The analogy is people who start out seeming to be the “real thing” as Christians, but they’re really like the disgusting powders at the bottom of the jar.

*Lost sheep (15:3-7). How many of us can identify with the one lost sheep that the Shepherd risked all to bring back?

*Lost coin (15:8-10). My tendency to misplace things increases as I age, so I feel for this poor woman who’d lost what was probably part of her dowry and insurance in old-age. But the truth here is more like the Campus Crusade evangelistic slogan of a recent decade: “I found it,” “it” being a life-changing relationship with Christ. No wonder Heaven is throwing a party!

*Lost son (15:11-32). Two sons were really lost: one to his materialistic folly, and one to his anger and resentment. One found forgiveness through repentance.

That parable makes me think about things I should be losing, like resentment when somebody else got the breaks. Resentment is not of God. Pass the trash can.

Some other things worth losing: Love for the world’s fads and trinkets, love of pleasure, and love of being admired. John nailed them with this description: “the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life” (1 John 2:16 KJV).

Things I don’t want to lose:

*A love for God’s Word: “Oh how I love your law” (Psalm 119:97).

*Patience. (Anybody else on this one?)

*The sense of awe regarding our holy God.

*The amazement that Christ would die for me.

*My ministry passion.

*My testimony.

Oh, yes: my Bible. After so many years of use and markings, it’s an old friend. Not irreplaceable, of course, but still personalized for me. So far, I’ve kept it off the lost-and-found table. However, when my aging tendency to forget or misplace things causes a few moments of panic, my husband’s been known to say, “We’re in for a ride!”

“For better, for worse,” I retort, “and don’t you forget that!”

Living Looser

Our two kids were both in college when I sent them this doctored-up photo of their parents. How better to “lighten up” the pain of paying for college?

Though my personality runs to the serious side of the spectrum, I’ve found balance in letting humor seep from the seams. Even back in my scholar personality of high school, I self-appointed myself to spiff up the music room’s stale bulletin board with a page of jokes and cartoons, purportedly published by the BBBBBBC (Building Better Boring Band Bulletin Boards Committee).

Enter marriage and motherhood, and humor was a parental survival tactic. It was also one way to help build well-rounded children. Here are some of the things we did.

*Be imperfect. Our kids heard their parents laughing about their mistakes. Mine involved their dad’s new white tennis shoes for teaching elementary physical education. They’d gotten muddy, so one morning I tossed them in the “dark” wash load. They emerged pink, thanks to some new red pants in the same load. His foible as a life-long fisherman: flinging out a long cast with his favorite rod and reel and accidentally letting go of them. Plunk.

*Be imaginative. Our kids’ best toys came in a box that we filled…with yardage remnants, wigs, shawls, funky glasses, hats, allergy masks, old nightgowns and yard-sale costumes. Called the “dress-up box,” it aided hours of creative play. While the kids were still little, at Christmas we re-enacted the Nativity story with the kids as the key characters, Dad as the donkey and Mom multi-tasking the extra roles. Another box held hand puppets (found at yard sales and thrift stores) that starred in original puppet shows behind a “couch” stage.

*Be irrational. Sometimes we changed the rules, like having dessert before dinner, or having the kids be “cook” and “waiter” for guests Mom and Dad at the kitchen table. Over milk and crackers, the parents hammed it up with atrocious manners like talking with food in our mouths, using fingers instead of forks, and arguing over who got the biggest portion. We called it “teachable moments” as the kids saw their own bad habits.

*Be interactive. Playing together included charades with Bible characters (Samson flexed his muscles and combed his hair, bent-over Sarah swaddled a baby). On long car trips it meant add-on stories (“There once was a weary mother who…”) and alphabet drills (F my name is Felix, and I live in Farmington and sell frankfurters). And yes, besides letting the kids play “fort” with sofa cushions, chairs and lots of sheets and blankets, we actually crammed a tent into the living room for a “camp-in.”

*Be infamous. Celebrate being “normal” and prone to funny stuff. We had “code names” for hilarious family events. “Eagles” recalled the zoo trip to see raptor birds and Mom getting disgusting “plops” in her hair while she stood under a tree for shade. “TP Streamers” coded a bare-bottomed 18-month-old streaking out of the bathroom with a lengthening stream of toilet paper in hand. We also started a “Funny File” notebook where we pasted all those too-close-to-home cartoons retired from tenure on the family refrigerator.

Trust me, a sense of humor can defuse some not-so-fun experiences. One afternoon a split scalp from a fall sent me to the emergency room. Home again with the wound stapled shut, I found my teens unusually solicitous in offering me ice and an afghan while I rested in my recliner. Later, after much behind-the-bedroom-door giggling, they presented me with a get-well card in which they’d expressed their love and kisses with X’s and O’s--created with a desk stapler.

Nothing to crow about



Crow atop a fast food business

 Wherever you find road-kill, you probably find crows or ravens. Big, black, and raucous, they have a party that clears the refreshment table. Oh yes, they prefer “carrion,” not carry-out. (Sorry about the pun.) They apparently flunked Singing Class at Bird School, as I wouldn’t call their cawing “pretty.”

Even in the Bible, they were the “hoods” of the neighborhood. Unlike the sweet little sparrows that nested in the nooks of the temple, they weren’t known for good manners. Although Elijah was fed by such birds during his hideout time at the brook Cherith from King Ahab, to do so was against their natural inclinations. By instinct, they would have gobbled the food samples faster than a starved shopper at Costco. This, like Elijah’s other instant meals at the cave in the desert, was a miracle.

Another verse in the Bible that camps on their nasty behavior is a curious one in Proverbs about parents and children. I scratched my head over it many times until I started to do some investigating: “The eye that mocks a father, that scorns obedience to a mother, will be pecked out by the ravens of the valley, will be eaten by the vultures” (Proverbs 30:17).

Whatever did this gory verse mean? For eyes to be pecked out meant the body was left to scavenger birds. One Bible teacher noted that the Jews took dishonoring the family seriously. It was a disgrace to die violently and be denied a decent burial. Another said this connects to verse 11, which talks of “those who curse their fathers and do not bless their mothers, those who are pure in their own eyes.” In other words, they think they know it all and are beyond fault. Still another Bible teacher said the pecked-out eye referred to the inability to look at another with full and transparent attention.

I’ll leave it to question-and-answer time in Heaven to fully understand this verse. But I think it harkens back to one of the ten basic laws of life that God gave thousands of years ago: “Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you” (Exodus 20:12).

My parents both died, of cancer and a heart attack, the year I was 31. In my twenties, as I transitioned out of adolescence and into responsible adulthood, I tried to honor them with words of appreciation and practical help. I tried not to take them for granted. I wanted them to see they’d successfully launched me into life as I pursued a career and served God through my church.

It’s dysfunctional families that this proverb addresses, and I pray for several families suffering in this way. And now, thanks to the word picture in Proverbs 30:17, I have an extra reminder to pray—whenever I hear that grating, annoying bird caw.

Which way to the will of God?



These seemingly contradictory signs
were posted at a hairpin curve.
Enjoy the snow...I snapped this in March!

 Ever felt that finding the will of God was like this pair of signs—you don’t know which direction to believe? You’re not alone in wrestling with decisions of education, vocation, marriage, location and finances. Many seem to want a supernatural GPS telling them, “Do this,” or “do that.”

Isaiah 30:21 grabbed me as a young adult seeking to do God’s will: “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it.” But I wondered just how I could hear that voice behind me. Years later, I’ve realized I hear God’s voice in several volumes, from quiet assurance to strong presence. I’ve also learned that following God’s will involves loving Him, seeking Him in prayer and scripture, honoring Him through abilities and resources, and representing Him in such a way that others are drawn to Him.

The specific term “will of God” is found in several places in the Bible. These include sexual purity (1 Thess. 4:3); prayerfulness, thankfulness and spiritual sensitivity (1 Thess. 5:17-19); and exemplary behavior (1 Peter 1:15-17). But there’s more to God’s will than just that phrase. All of scripture instructs us toward the godliness that is the will of God (2 Timothy 3:16). For example: serve others instead of just thinking about yourself (Gal. 5:13); and honor God in your work (1 Thess. 4:11-12, 2 Thess. 3:11-12). Those and many more help us discern God’s direction.

Many have been helped by the counsel of George Mueller, who ministered with giant faith to multitudes of poor in 19th century England. His now widely-published counsel in discerning God’s will included these steps:

1. “I seek at the beginning to get my heart into such a state that it has no will of its own in regard to a given matter. Nine-tenths of the trouble with people generally is just here. Nine-tenths of the difficulties are overcome when our hearts are ready to do the knowledge of what His will is.

2. “Having done this, I do not leave the result to feeling or simple impression. If so, I make myself liable to great delusions.

3. “I seek the Will of the Spirit through, or in combination with, the Word of God. The Spirit and the Word must be combined. If I look to the Spirit alone without the Word, I lay myself open to great delusions also. If the Holy Ghost guides us at all, He will do it according to the Scriptures and never contrary to them.

4. “Next I take into account providential circumstances. These often plainly indicate God’s Will in connection with His Word and Spirit.

5. “I ask God in prayer to reveal His will to me aright.

6. “Thus, (1) through prayer to God, (2) the study of the Word, and (3) reflection, I come to a deliberate judgment according to the best of my ability and knowledge, and if my mind is thus at peace, and continues so after two or three more petitions, I proceed accordingly.”

To Mueller, there were no contradictory, confusing signs. He trusted God to show him the route, and then he went forward in what brought God honor.

S.W.A.P.

When author copies came of an article I wrote for a Sunday-school take-home paper, I took a second look at the envelope. A neon yellow sticker said, “Inspected and prayed over by TA.” I have no idea who “TA” is, but I was moved by that extra touch. It also got me thinking about what spiritual message I “inspect and pray over” as I begin each day with opportunities to honor (or distract from) my Lord Jesus.

One of my favorite prayers to read the first morning of an overnight women’s retreat, when many are bleary-eyed from night-before shenanigans, goes like this: “Dear Lord, so far today, I’ve done all right. I haven’t gossiped, lost my temper, or been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish, or overindulgent. I’m really glad about that. But in a few minutes, God, I’m going to get out of bed, and from then on, I’m probably going to need a lot more help. Amen!”

I’ve heard it said that there are two types of people: those who say, “Good morning, Lord,” and those who moan, “Good Lord, it’s morning.” I know which version honors my Savior! He cares about every detail of the day ahead. As I awaken, I need the attitude of the psalmist: “Morning by morning, O Lord, you hear my voice; morning by morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation” (Psalm 5:3).

I’ve learned that when I sit and am quiet before God in the early morning, my mind whirls with things I need to do. That’s why I have a little scratch pad nearby. I write those things down to get them out of the way. Often they are tasks that God wants done that are outside my normal tasks of managing my home. At times, the ideas for this blog come as random words. When I’m the one who needs “a lot more help” to get through encounters with difficult people or situations, I truly need a day that is S.W.A.P.—sealed with a prayer.

So thank you, “T.A.,” whoever you are at the publisher in Springfield, Missouri. When you pressed that sticker on my package, you made me think…and blessed my day.

"I can use that!"

I am in awe of Quilters—the Capital Q type—who turn fabric into art. I tried to Quilt (capital Q) but my mismatched corners caused weeping and gnashing of teeth. Simple patchwork quilts are my style! I’ve created hundreds, mostly baby quilts, from discarded fabric. I have a saying, “I could use that,” when folks offer me their sewing scraps. And when I finish off a quilt by tying the patchwork corners with yarn, then sewing a self-binding, I often think of a spiritual lesson.

It’s this: God is the greatest quilter and binder-upper! I draw this from Isaiah 61, where Isaiah had prophesied of Messiah who would minister to the broken and hurting. Fresh off the proving grounds of His desert temptations, Christ read that passage in His local synagogue, then declared, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:21).

I’m especially drawn to the second part of Isaiah 61:2: “He has sent me to bind up the broken hearted.” When only scraps are left of our lives, we may feel useless to God. We might think He can do nothing with the strips and odd pieces left after hardship or bad choices mess up our lives. But remember, Christ is the Redeemer. He knows how to redeem those scraps to a useful purpose. It requires some trimming…of certain habits, defeatist attitudes, worry, bitterness, laziness or other negative aspects of our character. But every swift cut is part of how He “fits” us into His greater plan.

In His wisdom, the dark pieces are just as useful as the bright ones, the plain ones as the ornate ones. I’ve watched people turn their greatest pain from bad relationships or difficult circumstances into something positive to help others in the spiritual journey. He can even “bind up” the hidden parts of our lives—I’m thinking of the quilt batting inside, which sometimes I also piece--turning heartache into the soft trait of gentleness.

After cutting fabric scraps into five-inch squares, I begin joining them, row upon row. I try to make sure dark colors are distributed throughout the quilt, not in one place. Christians are not exempt from dark times, but unlike non-believers, we have a Father who knows how much we can handle. Psalm 30:5 says: “Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” That’s the favorite verse of a friend who suffers daily with severe post-polio pain, but who seeks the joy in every day.

Thus it’s appropriate that the baby quilts I sewed this past year from bits and pieces, for the hospital to give those in need (see July 6 blog on birthday blankets), be “patchwork.” When the Lord sees a life reduced to scraps, He says, “I can use that!” When He binds up the brokenhearted, He creates a masterpiece.

Lethal roots

I couldn’t believe how much root was attached to the morning glory weed I pulled from loose soil between some rose bushes. About two feet of root came up before it snapped off! As I dumped it into my weed bucket, I wondered if the writer of Hebrews had morning glory in mind when he wrote: “Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many” (Heb. 12:14-15).

I once wondered why the verse said “a bitter root grows up” instead of a “bitter plant grows up.” Then I realized that the origins are in the root¸ and when it’s full of bitterness, so will be the result that shows. Bitterness is clearly forbidden for those who follow Christ: “Get rid of all bitterness, rage, and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice” (Eph. 4:31). Bitterness and its ugly cousins put the big Me, not God, in control:

“ME” was hurt by what my (fill in the blank--maybe spouse, brother, sister, parent, friend, boss, coworker) did to ME.

“ME” didn’t get what I thought God deserved to give “ME.”

“ME” lost something important to “ME.”

Brooding over what one considers unfair treatment can lead to three natural reactions, according to Dr. Charles Swindoll, writing in Hope Again (Word, 1996). One is an aggressive blaming of others that can that grow into revenge and rage. In that process, he wrote, it “nurtures a deep root of bitterness that tenaciously wraps around our hearts” (p. 83). The second reaction is a passive “I feel sorry for myself,” resulting in withdrawal and depression. Third is a “holding pattern” when we postpone or deny our feelings, even though those suppressed feelings will eat at us like an acid (p. 85).

Such negative feelings have been linked to significant health problems. One powerful example concerned a forty-something woman who experienced chronic stomach disorders and arthritis. She asked a pastor to pray for her, and in the midst of praying he sensed the Holy Spirit telling him she had a problem with unforgiveness, especially toward her sister. When he inquired about her relationship with her sister, she stiffened up and told of being unable to forgive her sister for a long-ago offense.

Drawing from Psalm 32:3, where David connected health issues to keeping silent about his sin (“my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long”), the pastor suggested her health problems could be related to her bitterness. When she relented and asked for advice, he counseled her to write her sister a letter of forgiveness, asking to renew their relationship. She did so, but delayed mailing it. In the meantime she became so ill she thought she might die. She dragged herself to her car and drove to a mailbox. “The moment she dropped off the letter she experienced some relief, and complete physical relief came when she arrived home.”(1)

One story of forgiveness I've never forgotten concerns Corrie ten Boom, survivor of Nazi atrocities, who spoke widely after the war. One time after her presentation she was greeted by a former prison camp guard she recognized as being especially cruel to her and her late sister. When this man said he’d become a Christian and extended his hand to Corrie, at first she resisted. Bitterness almost paralyzed her. Finally, appealing to the Holy Spirit, she let go of that old bitterness and found the strength to extend her hand in forgiveness and greeting.

Because it’s so much like a pesky morning glory vine, which travels on and on through the darkness of the soil, bitterness takes radical effort to root out. Yet God truly cares about our “spiritual weed control.” Trust me, I’ve had to get down on my knees for spiritual weeds, too, but the anguish was worth if for the freedom I felt later.

(1) From John Wimber, Power Healing (Harper & Row, 1987), retold in Klaus Issler, Living Into the Life of Jesus (IVP, 2012), p. 59.