This past week I reconnected with an old friend.
In a hospital room.
I haven't seen her in years. I've thought about her. Wondered how she was doing, even called and left a message but didn't follow through.
I've been busy.
I have a family, a business, a blog, a home. I have been battling with my own illness. Then there's all the kid's sports activities. I have my jewelry making, which I never have time for, my friends that do respond to my phone calls and emails, church, bible study...you get the idea. I'm busy. My life is full.
When my friend didn't respond, time slipped by and I just assumed she was busy like I was. She had a successful career, a new marriage, her own kids to deal with, and I figured she didn't have time for me.
I was wrong.
When I heard she was sick and in the hospital, I rushed to visit her, and discovered that the past several years have been very different for her than what I had imagined. She has been suffering and I never knew.
I can't get this out of my mind.
I regret the times when she was alone when I could have been there to hold her hand. The times when she was in pain when I could have offered a shoulder to cry on. The prayers I could have prayed on her behalf.
I know what it feels like to be where she has been - lying in bed, in pain, feeling so alone and wondering if anyone remembers you or cares about you. With every day that passes without a phone call or a visit, you become more convinced that you have been forgotten.
I can't go back in time and redo the past. I can't live in regret. I'm letting go and moving forward.
It was so sweet visiting my dear friend. She is dealing with her illness with a grace that astounds me. I look forward to reconnecting more and more and pouring back into her life.
I am blessed with friends that fill my life with love, laughter, encouragement and strength. I pray I am able to return a small portion of this back into their lives.
Real wisdom, God's wisdom, begins with a holy life and is characterized by getting along with others. It is gentle and reasonable, overflowing with mercy and blessings, not hot one day and cold the next, not two-faced. You can develop a healthy, robust community that lives right with God and enjoy its results only if you do the hard work of getting along with each other, treating each other with dignity and honor.
James 3:17-18 (MSG)
Showing posts with label grace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grace. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Laughter. Prayer. Coffee. Grace.
Steve and I just celebrated our 29th wedding anniversary. Well, celebrated is a misnomer. We wished each other a "happy anniversary", split a burger with the kids and talked about celebrating when he gets back from his trip to Dallas, but you get the point. We have been married for 29 years so just getting here is quite a feat.
In honor of this momentous event, I thought I would write a post about what it takes to make a marriage work. I figure that after all this time I qualify as a marriage expert. In fact, after I write this post I'm going to write a book. I can see it now. My book will get published. Gayle will read it and pass it along to Oprah. She will have me on her show (I better get cracking. This is her last season!) I will become world famous and travel internationally sharing my hard-earned wisdom with the masses.
But, alas, Steve will become bitterly jealous of my new-found fame and my children will resent my constant absences. My life will become a hollow shell and the paparazzi will hound me as I look to reinvent myself and fill the emptiness inside with a constant stream of plastic surgeries until even my children no longer recognize me.
Wow...that was scary! I think I'll just stick to writing my blog for the sake of my family and my sanity. I clearly can't handle fame.
If you were to pick two people who would be "Most Likely To Succeed" in the marriage department twenty-nine years ago, you would not have picked Steve and I. To say we were headstrong, selfish, self-absorbed, immature and unprepared would be an understatement. Steve's sister, Nadine, once commented on how much we fought when we were first married. Everything, from the toothpaste to the finances was fodder for an all out war.
I was 19 and he was 22. We were in love. We were at war.
So, why are we still together, all these years later, in love without the war?
I have spent some time thinking about it and these are my essentials, the things our marriage can't survive without.
LAUGHTER. I love to laugh. Not just a light little chuckle, but a deep, snorting makes-my-belly-hurt, brings-tears-to-my-eyes, I-think-I'm-gonna-pee-my-pants kind of laugh. Steve has told me that there's nothing he likes better than my smile. There have been many years when the smiles and the laughter have been scarce but it is essential. I'm sure you've heard it before but it is true - laughter has some serious health benefits.
It's good for our kids to see us laughing together and enjoying each other's company. We need to be careful, however that the laughter doesn't become teasing at someone else's expense. I have a hard time with this one. Sometimes mama "likes to be's bad."
PRAYER. This is the cornerstone of our marriage, our family and our life. When there are no answers. When words fail. When the pain is too deep. Pray.
I have prayed as though my life depends upon it because I know it does. There have also been times when I could not utter a prayer and the words wouldn't come. That was when I counted on others to pray for me. We are not alone in the body of Christ, so when you feel you can't pray, call someone who can (you can always call me!)
"The way God designed our bodies is a model for understanding our lives together as a church: every part dependent on every other part, the parts we mention and the parts we don't, the parts we see and the parts we don't. If one part hurts, every other part is involved in the hurt, and in the healing."
1 Cor. 12:25:26
COFFEE. You knew it would be in here, didn't you? When our oldest daughter Ashley was a little girl, she was asked what her parents fought about the most (now, that's a loaded question!) Her answer? Coffee! For years, Steve would make the coffee so strong only the Turkish would care to drink it - no offense to the Turkish, but I'm not too fond of the way they make their coffee! I begged him to pleeeeeez consider the fact that there was more than one coffee-drinker in the house and could he please compromise and make the coffee a wee bit easier to digest.
Well, either I've gotten used to stronger coffee or he's making it weaker now, but we seem to have come to a very nice agreement in the coffee-making department because we haven't had that argument for quite a few years.
What is really essential to me about coffee is how it represents slowing down and spending time together. If we don't make the time for each other we can drift apart and before you know it we are like strangers living under the same roof. It's hard. Our lives are busy and it takes a concerted effort to set aside that time to be alone, but it is important. I realized just recently that I make more effort to spend time with friends than I do to spend time with Steve. That needs to change.
GRACE. Where would I be without grace? God's overwhelming, unending daily grace in my life is a miracle to me. I have been raised on the words "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me," but I am only now really beginning to understand the full impact of those words.
More and more I realize that, as God's grace has been extended to me, I must freely extend his grace to others. Sometimes it's easier to extend that grace beyond the four walls of my home but those nearest and dearest to me are the ones that I can daily shower with the grace of God's love. This is the most precious gift I can give to my husband and the most precious one that he extends to me.
So, those are my four essentials - they are healthy for strengthening any relationship - laughter, prayer, coffee and grace with an extra measure of grace.
Oh yeah, there is one more thing - therapy - lots and lots of therapy. If you need it, go for it! We've all got issues!
In honor of this momentous event, I thought I would write a post about what it takes to make a marriage work. I figure that after all this time I qualify as a marriage expert. In fact, after I write this post I'm going to write a book. I can see it now. My book will get published. Gayle will read it and pass it along to Oprah. She will have me on her show (I better get cracking. This is her last season!) I will become world famous and travel internationally sharing my hard-earned wisdom with the masses.
But, alas, Steve will become bitterly jealous of my new-found fame and my children will resent my constant absences. My life will become a hollow shell and the paparazzi will hound me as I look to reinvent myself and fill the emptiness inside with a constant stream of plastic surgeries until even my children no longer recognize me.
Wow...that was scary! I think I'll just stick to writing my blog for the sake of my family and my sanity. I clearly can't handle fame.
If you were to pick two people who would be "Most Likely To Succeed" in the marriage department twenty-nine years ago, you would not have picked Steve and I. To say we were headstrong, selfish, self-absorbed, immature and unprepared would be an understatement. Steve's sister, Nadine, once commented on how much we fought when we were first married. Everything, from the toothpaste to the finances was fodder for an all out war.
I was 19 and he was 22. We were in love. We were at war.
So, why are we still together, all these years later, in love without the war?
I have spent some time thinking about it and these are my essentials, the things our marriage can't survive without.
LAUGHTER. I love to laugh. Not just a light little chuckle, but a deep, snorting makes-my-belly-hurt, brings-tears-to-my-eyes, I-think-I'm-gonna-pee-my-pants kind of laugh. Steve has told me that there's nothing he likes better than my smile. There have been many years when the smiles and the laughter have been scarce but it is essential. I'm sure you've heard it before but it is true - laughter has some serious health benefits.
PRAYER. This is the cornerstone of our marriage, our family and our life. When there are no answers. When words fail. When the pain is too deep. Pray.
I have prayed as though my life depends upon it because I know it does. There have also been times when I could not utter a prayer and the words wouldn't come. That was when I counted on others to pray for me. We are not alone in the body of Christ, so when you feel you can't pray, call someone who can (you can always call me!)
"The way God designed our bodies is a model for understanding our lives together as a church: every part dependent on every other part, the parts we mention and the parts we don't, the parts we see and the parts we don't. If one part hurts, every other part is involved in the hurt, and in the healing."
1 Cor. 12:25:26
COFFEE. You knew it would be in here, didn't you? When our oldest daughter Ashley was a little girl, she was asked what her parents fought about the most (now, that's a loaded question!) Her answer? Coffee! For years, Steve would make the coffee so strong only the Turkish would care to drink it - no offense to the Turkish, but I'm not too fond of the way they make their coffee! I begged him to pleeeeeez consider the fact that there was more than one coffee-drinker in the house and could he please compromise and make the coffee a wee bit easier to digest.
What is really essential to me about coffee is how it represents slowing down and spending time together. If we don't make the time for each other we can drift apart and before you know it we are like strangers living under the same roof. It's hard. Our lives are busy and it takes a concerted effort to set aside that time to be alone, but it is important. I realized just recently that I make more effort to spend time with friends than I do to spend time with Steve. That needs to change.
GRACE. Where would I be without grace? God's overwhelming, unending daily grace in my life is a miracle to me. I have been raised on the words "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me," but I am only now really beginning to understand the full impact of those words.
More and more I realize that, as God's grace has been extended to me, I must freely extend his grace to others. Sometimes it's easier to extend that grace beyond the four walls of my home but those nearest and dearest to me are the ones that I can daily shower with the grace of God's love. This is the most precious gift I can give to my husband and the most precious one that he extends to me.
So, those are my four essentials - they are healthy for strengthening any relationship - laughter, prayer, coffee and grace with an extra measure of grace.
Oh yeah, there is one more thing - therapy - lots and lots of therapy. If you need it, go for it! We've all got issues!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Confessions of Faith
I have a confession to make.
I was hesitant about making this confession publicly but here it goes.
I feel good.
I know it's been a while since you've heard anyone reveal something quite as shocking so I will give you a moment to let that sink in.
Now that you've had time to absorb it, you're probably thinking, why would you hesitate to confess something like that? It's good news, right?
It's been a long time since I've felt good. It has been a long time, years actually, since I've felt good physically. I've shared my story with you here about my long battle with chronic pain and the ups and downs that I have experienced.
So, why not jump up and down and shout it from the rooftops?
I'm hesitant for a couple of reasons.
1. It's kind of hard to believe. I'm sitting here taking a body inventory and there isn't a single area of my body screaming at me for attention. Just a week and a half ago I was back at the doctor's office asking for a referral to a pain management doctor and now I'm wondering where that pain went.
I am on the other side of forty, sliding towards fifty, so there are a few body parts that are grumpy and groaning, but I think, at my age, that's to be expected. Compared to what I've been dealing with for the past several years it feels positively exhilarating.
2. I hate to admit this, but I'm afraid it won't last. This is, I fear. at the crux of the matter. My faith is weak.
I have become accustomed to pain. I am not used to living without it. It's become familiar. It's what I know.
The reason I'm going out on a limb and confessing this to you today is because I don't want to live with the familiar. I don't want to live a life without faith. I don't want to live a life with pain and I don't want to be afraid of feeling good.
There is a story in the Bible that speaks to me so vividly. It is the story of the ten lepers.
"Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, "Jesus, Master, have pity on us!" When he saw them, he said, "Go, show yourselves to the priests." And as they went, they were cleansed.One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.
Jesus asked, "Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" Then he said to him, "Rise and go; your faith has made you well."
Luke 17:11-19
All ten men were healed. Only one returned to give thanks, "praising God in a loud voice." Did the other nine doubt their healing? Had they become accustomed to the pain, to being social outcasts? The Scriptures don't tell us. But we do know there was one who returned.
Today, I am standing with the one who returned. I am throwing myself at Jesus' feet and publicly thanking him for the healing that is taking place in my body. I am thanking Him for another restful night's sleep and another day without pain or pain medication.
I am excited about tomorrow and filled with wonder at all that God has done and all that he has in store for me and my family.
He is birthing something new in me and continues to fill my heart with compassion for the broken, the poor, the lonely and the disenfranchised. I may not know where is is leading, but I pray that I will, be found faithful.
God is gracious—it is he who makes things right,
our most compassionate God.
God takes the side of the helpless;
when I was at the end of my rope, he saved me.
I said to myself, "Relax and rest.
God has showered you with blessings.
Soul, you've been rescued from death;
Eye, you've been rescued from tears;
And you, Foot, were kept from stumbling."
I'm striding in the presence of God,
alive in the land of the living!
I stayed faithful, though bedeviled,
and despite a ton of bad luck,
Despite giving up on the human race,
saying, "They're all liars and cheats."
What can I give back to God
for the blessings he's poured out on me?
I'll lift high the cup of salvation—a toast to God!
I'll pray in the name of God;
I'll complete what I promised God I'd do,
and I'll do it together with his people.
When they arrive at the gates of death,
God welcomes those who love him.
Oh, God, here I am, your servant,
your faithful servant: set me free for your service!
I'm ready to offer the thanksgiving sacrifice
and pray in the name of God.
I'll complete what I promised God I'd do,
and I'll do it in company with his people,
In the place of worship, in God's house,
in Jerusalem, God's city.
Hallelujah!
Psalm 116 (MSG)
Thursday, August 19, 2010
The Gift of Pain - Chapter 10
Last night I learned a lesson from a beagle.
I couldn't sleep and lay in bed for hours before I finally decided to get up and read. While I was sitting in the chair, our dog Casey came into the room and whimpered to be let out.
Some time later I called to her to come back in. Getting no response, I stepped outside and called again. I called repeatedly and went to the side of the house where I discovered the gate was wide open. I quickly threw on my shoes, grabbed my keys and headed out to find her, knowing her chances of survival through the night in our neighborhood were slim, with coyotes on the prowl.
I cruised up and down the streets for over half an hour with visions of my twelve-year-old son's tearful face floating in my mind as I told him that his beloved dog was lost forever. I finally returned home, discouraged and praying that someone would find her and call the phone number on her tag. I trudged down the hallway heading to bed, but as I turned to enter our bedroom I heard the familiar tinkling of dog tags. Turning my head I saw Casey look up at me from the end of Sam's bed where she had been calmly laying all along. Apparently, I had been absorbed in my reading and hadn't noticed as she slipped back in the door. I had seen the open gate and assumed the worst.
So, where does the lesson come in?
This little incident with our dog reminded me of the way I treat my relationship with God. I am so absorbed with myself, with what I'm doing and with the busyness of life. Finally, I take the time to stop and be with him. If I don't find him exactly where I expect to see him, I wonder if he's gone. I begin, in a panic to race around physically or mentally, when all I really need to do is "Be still and know that HE is God" (Ps. 46:10).
And to think, a sofa-scratching, hair-shedding beagle could be used to remind me of this. Amazing.
Well, here we are at Chapter 10. (For chapters 1-9 of My Story, The Gift of Pain, click on the link at right.) When I started chronicling this, a few months ago, I expected this story would take two to three chapters and a couple of weeks to tell, but it has taken me more time and energy than I imagined. I have had to dig deep into the past and recall times that I would just as soon forget.
"Why bother?" You may ask. In the words of the author Brennan Manning, "grace and healing are communicated through the vulnerability of men and women who have been fractured and heartbroken by life. In Love's service, only wounded soldiers can serve."
I am simply a wounded soldier in the service of the One who first loved me.
This is this chapter where the cure is found, the problems are solved and everyone rides off into the sunset. This story, however is real life - my life. Like I said from the beginning, there isn't a neat ending, in fact, there isn't really an ending.
I completed the pain management program and received so much incredible help and invaluable information. I have been able to slowly wean myself off of all but the most basic of pain medications and for that I praise God. That was an experience I do not want to revisit.
The fact remains that I am still dealing with chronic pain and the ongoing effects of my injury. I have good days and bad days. But, I'm glad to say, the good days outnumber the bad. I am debating what steps to take next. Having tried a myriad of treatments I'm not sure how to proceed and I'm hesitant to let them operate, since this injury was inflicted during surgery, so I'm moving cautiously and weighing my options.
I entitled my story The Gift of Pain. There have been times, over these past several weeks when the use of this title seemed more like folly or hubris, but as I have come to the end of this story I realize that it is true - the pain that I have suffered has been a gift, and one that I would never wish to return.
These past several years have changed me forever. My relationship with my husband has grown deeper. I have developed a compassion for others that I never had before. I have grown personally, emotionally and spiritually and continue to grow every day as I learn to "define myself radically as one beloved by God."
I conclude my story, for now, with these beautiful words by Brennan Manning in his book Abba's Child.
"there have been times...
when the felt presence of God was more real to me
than the chair I am sitting on;
when the Word richocheted like broken-backed
lightning in every corner of my soul;
when a storm of desire carried me to places I had
never visited.
And there have been other times...
when I identified with the words of Mae West: "I
used to be Snow White---but I drifted";
when the Word was as stale as old ice cream and
as bland as tame sausage;
when the fire in my belly flickered and died;
when I mistook dried-up enthusiasm for gray-haired
wisdom;
when I dismissed youthful idealism as mere
naivete;
when I preferred cheap slivers of glass to the pearl
of great price."
"The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls, who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it."
Matthew 13:45,46
I couldn't sleep and lay in bed for hours before I finally decided to get up and read. While I was sitting in the chair, our dog Casey came into the room and whimpered to be let out.
Some time later I called to her to come back in. Getting no response, I stepped outside and called again. I called repeatedly and went to the side of the house where I discovered the gate was wide open. I quickly threw on my shoes, grabbed my keys and headed out to find her, knowing her chances of survival through the night in our neighborhood were slim, with coyotes on the prowl.
I cruised up and down the streets for over half an hour with visions of my twelve-year-old son's tearful face floating in my mind as I told him that his beloved dog was lost forever. I finally returned home, discouraged and praying that someone would find her and call the phone number on her tag. I trudged down the hallway heading to bed, but as I turned to enter our bedroom I heard the familiar tinkling of dog tags. Turning my head I saw Casey look up at me from the end of Sam's bed where she had been calmly laying all along. Apparently, I had been absorbed in my reading and hadn't noticed as she slipped back in the door. I had seen the open gate and assumed the worst.
So, where does the lesson come in?
This little incident with our dog reminded me of the way I treat my relationship with God. I am so absorbed with myself, with what I'm doing and with the busyness of life. Finally, I take the time to stop and be with him. If I don't find him exactly where I expect to see him, I wonder if he's gone. I begin, in a panic to race around physically or mentally, when all I really need to do is "Be still and know that HE is God" (Ps. 46:10).
And to think, a sofa-scratching, hair-shedding beagle could be used to remind me of this. Amazing.
Well, here we are at Chapter 10. (For chapters 1-9 of My Story, The Gift of Pain, click on the link at right.) When I started chronicling this, a few months ago, I expected this story would take two to three chapters and a couple of weeks to tell, but it has taken me more time and energy than I imagined. I have had to dig deep into the past and recall times that I would just as soon forget.
"Why bother?" You may ask. In the words of the author Brennan Manning, "grace and healing are communicated through the vulnerability of men and women who have been fractured and heartbroken by life. In Love's service, only wounded soldiers can serve."
I am simply a wounded soldier in the service of the One who first loved me.
This is this chapter where the cure is found, the problems are solved and everyone rides off into the sunset. This story, however is real life - my life. Like I said from the beginning, there isn't a neat ending, in fact, there isn't really an ending.
I completed the pain management program and received so much incredible help and invaluable information. I have been able to slowly wean myself off of all but the most basic of pain medications and for that I praise God. That was an experience I do not want to revisit.
The fact remains that I am still dealing with chronic pain and the ongoing effects of my injury. I have good days and bad days. But, I'm glad to say, the good days outnumber the bad. I am debating what steps to take next. Having tried a myriad of treatments I'm not sure how to proceed and I'm hesitant to let them operate, since this injury was inflicted during surgery, so I'm moving cautiously and weighing my options.
I entitled my story The Gift of Pain. There have been times, over these past several weeks when the use of this title seemed more like folly or hubris, but as I have come to the end of this story I realize that it is true - the pain that I have suffered has been a gift, and one that I would never wish to return.
These past several years have changed me forever. My relationship with my husband has grown deeper. I have developed a compassion for others that I never had before. I have grown personally, emotionally and spiritually and continue to grow every day as I learn to "define myself radically as one beloved by God."
I conclude my story, for now, with these beautiful words by Brennan Manning in his book Abba's Child.
"there have been times...
when the felt presence of God was more real to me
than the chair I am sitting on;
when the Word richocheted like broken-backed
lightning in every corner of my soul;
when a storm of desire carried me to places I had
never visited.
And there have been other times...
when I identified with the words of Mae West: "I
used to be Snow White---but I drifted";
when the Word was as stale as old ice cream and
as bland as tame sausage;
when the fire in my belly flickered and died;
when I mistook dried-up enthusiasm for gray-haired
wisdom;
when I dismissed youthful idealism as mere
naivete;
when I preferred cheap slivers of glass to the pearl
of great price."
"The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls, who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it."
Matthew 13:45,46
Monday, August 2, 2010
Spikes or Nests?
Thanks to my brother Karl Vaters. He is my guest blogger today and is pastor of Cornerstone Christian Fellowship in Fountain Valley. I'm enjoying the break and a long weekend!
Karen
Hello Jenny and Pearl readers,
My sister has given me the extreme privilege of being a guest blogger. I don’t expect to do this anywhere near as well as she does, but I’ll give it my best shot. And I’m a preacher, so I’m likely to blog like one. You know what they say about old dogs…
We’re in the middle of a much-overdue renovation project at the church where I pastor. No this is not a plea for money (but if you had a little extra cash, I wouldn’t complain…).
A few months ago, during the design stage of the project, we had one of those thousand little decisions you have to make when you’re building something. This decision concerned a three-foot high wall that will enclose the brand-new patio on one side, and border a brand-new skateboard park on the other.
The contractor was expressing concern that people would be tempted to sit, not just on the seats inside the wall toward the patio, but on the wall itself to face the skate park. He was wondering how to design the top of the wall to keep people from sitting on it.
My response surprised him. I told him to add a ledge to make the top of the wall wider and to make sure the wall was strong enough to hold people’s weight. I think my exact words were “They’re gonna sit there anyway. Might as well make it comfortable and safe for them.”
I know what you’re thinking. “Compelling story, Karl. So when does your sister get back?” But hear me out.
I responded the way I did because of a change the Lord made in my heart several years ago. And it had to do with the very kids (well, a previous generation of those kids, anyway) that we’re building our new skate park for.
I’ve pastored two churches where we’ve had what many consider the “problem” of teenagers hanging around the property looking for something to do. In the first church, over twenty years ago, we were right next to a high school. The school had passed a zero tolerance rule for smoking, which sounds great on paper, but what that meant was that the kids who smoked didn’t stay on campus during their lunch break. Instead, a whole lot of them congregated – you guessed it – in our church parking lot.
The first day they showed up I was shocked and offended. “How dare they do that here!” I thought. “Don’t they know what kind of building this is?!” So I pumped myself full of self-righteous indignation as I marched out of my office to teach these kids some manners.
As I was about to open the door, it was as though a presence stopped me in my tracks and a small voice in my head said, “You know what, Karl? They don’t know what kind of a building this is. But the moment you open your mouth, they will.”
Ouch.
I pulled myself away from the door and walked back to my office where I wrestled with God, my conscience and my self-righteousness for quite a while. To make a long story short, instead of shooing them off the property, I approached the church members and the nearby Bible college about the opportunity we had. In less than a month, and for the rest of the time I pastored that church, once a week there was a group of Christian students and student leaders who set out ashtrays, gave away free pizza and hung out with a growing group of high school smokers in our church parking lot.
I wish I could tell you stories about transformed lives, salvations and broken addictions that resulted from Pizza Thursdays, but I can’t. I don’t know of any. But I do know this: if those former high school kids have ever, in the last twenty years had occasion to think about God, Jesus or the church in a negative way, it wasn’t because of us. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a thirty-something adult out there now whose life has been changed by Christ, and when we get to heaven we’ll find out that it was partly because, instead of yelling at them or putting up “no smoking” signs, a pastor made sure they got free pizza and had a chat with a friendly face.
So what does that have to do with turning a low wall into a seat for skater wanna-bes at the church today? At Cornerstone, where I’ve been privileged to pastor for almost eighteen years now, we had kids hanging around too. But they weren’t smokers, they were skateboarders.
Instead of shooing them away or putting up signs to keep them out, we welcomed them and built skateboard ramps. And sold pizza for fifty cents a slice. And at this church, after more than ten years of welcoming skaters, their friends and their families, we do have some life-transformation stories. Dozens of them. Every year.
The principle is the same for the new wall.
We all want to control the way people enter or stay in our lives. And no one is worse at this than church people. Jesus welcomed the sinner. We shoo away the smoker and the skateboarder. We tell people “this is a church, behave the way I do” or “this is a wall, it’s not for sitting” much like we put spikes on the top of walls, statues and crosses to keep birds from building nests in them and pooping on them.
I don’t think Jesus was a spike-planter. I think he was a nest-builder, even though he knew better than anyone the mess it would cause. He just thought that having people in his life was worth the mess.
And I figure if people want to sit on a wall, we ought to make it comfortable and safe for them. It’s a pretty low price of admission for having more people in our lives.
Every day of our lives you and I face similar decisions, and not just at church. Will we accept people the way they come in to our lives, along with both the mess and the love that they bring? Or will we keep demanding that they come in the way we want, and have less mess, but less love too? By our attitudes, are we putting up signs or ramps? Walls or seats? Spikes or nests?
I don’t want anyone else erecting signs, walls or spikes when I want to be a part of their life. So I’m learning to build ramps, seats and nests when they want to be a part of mine – and maybe if I serve them a little pizza they’ll stick around a while.
I think the mess is worth it.
Karen
Hello Jenny and Pearl readers,
My sister has given me the extreme privilege of being a guest blogger. I don’t expect to do this anywhere near as well as she does, but I’ll give it my best shot. And I’m a preacher, so I’m likely to blog like one. You know what they say about old dogs…
We’re in the middle of a much-overdue renovation project at the church where I pastor. No this is not a plea for money (but if you had a little extra cash, I wouldn’t complain…).
A few months ago, during the design stage of the project, we had one of those thousand little decisions you have to make when you’re building something. This decision concerned a three-foot high wall that will enclose the brand-new patio on one side, and border a brand-new skateboard park on the other.
The contractor was expressing concern that people would be tempted to sit, not just on the seats inside the wall toward the patio, but on the wall itself to face the skate park. He was wondering how to design the top of the wall to keep people from sitting on it.
My response surprised him. I told him to add a ledge to make the top of the wall wider and to make sure the wall was strong enough to hold people’s weight. I think my exact words were “They’re gonna sit there anyway. Might as well make it comfortable and safe for them.”
I know what you’re thinking. “Compelling story, Karl. So when does your sister get back?” But hear me out.
I responded the way I did because of a change the Lord made in my heart several years ago. And it had to do with the very kids (well, a previous generation of those kids, anyway) that we’re building our new skate park for.
I’ve pastored two churches where we’ve had what many consider the “problem” of teenagers hanging around the property looking for something to do. In the first church, over twenty years ago, we were right next to a high school. The school had passed a zero tolerance rule for smoking, which sounds great on paper, but what that meant was that the kids who smoked didn’t stay on campus during their lunch break. Instead, a whole lot of them congregated – you guessed it – in our church parking lot.
The first day they showed up I was shocked and offended. “How dare they do that here!” I thought. “Don’t they know what kind of building this is?!” So I pumped myself full of self-righteous indignation as I marched out of my office to teach these kids some manners.
As I was about to open the door, it was as though a presence stopped me in my tracks and a small voice in my head said, “You know what, Karl? They don’t know what kind of a building this is. But the moment you open your mouth, they will.”
Ouch.
I pulled myself away from the door and walked back to my office where I wrestled with God, my conscience and my self-righteousness for quite a while. To make a long story short, instead of shooing them off the property, I approached the church members and the nearby Bible college about the opportunity we had. In less than a month, and for the rest of the time I pastored that church, once a week there was a group of Christian students and student leaders who set out ashtrays, gave away free pizza and hung out with a growing group of high school smokers in our church parking lot.
I wish I could tell you stories about transformed lives, salvations and broken addictions that resulted from Pizza Thursdays, but I can’t. I don’t know of any. But I do know this: if those former high school kids have ever, in the last twenty years had occasion to think about God, Jesus or the church in a negative way, it wasn’t because of us. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a thirty-something adult out there now whose life has been changed by Christ, and when we get to heaven we’ll find out that it was partly because, instead of yelling at them or putting up “no smoking” signs, a pastor made sure they got free pizza and had a chat with a friendly face.
So what does that have to do with turning a low wall into a seat for skater wanna-bes at the church today? At Cornerstone, where I’ve been privileged to pastor for almost eighteen years now, we had kids hanging around too. But they weren’t smokers, they were skateboarders.
Instead of shooing them away or putting up signs to keep them out, we welcomed them and built skateboard ramps. And sold pizza for fifty cents a slice. And at this church, after more than ten years of welcoming skaters, their friends and their families, we do have some life-transformation stories. Dozens of them. Every year.
The principle is the same for the new wall.
We all want to control the way people enter or stay in our lives. And no one is worse at this than church people. Jesus welcomed the sinner. We shoo away the smoker and the skateboarder. We tell people “this is a church, behave the way I do” or “this is a wall, it’s not for sitting” much like we put spikes on the top of walls, statues and crosses to keep birds from building nests in them and pooping on them.
I don’t think Jesus was a spike-planter. I think he was a nest-builder, even though he knew better than anyone the mess it would cause. He just thought that having people in his life was worth the mess.
And I figure if people want to sit on a wall, we ought to make it comfortable and safe for them. It’s a pretty low price of admission for having more people in our lives.
Every day of our lives you and I face similar decisions, and not just at church. Will we accept people the way they come in to our lives, along with both the mess and the love that they bring? Or will we keep demanding that they come in the way we want, and have less mess, but less love too? By our attitudes, are we putting up signs or ramps? Walls or seats? Spikes or nests?
I don’t want anyone else erecting signs, walls or spikes when I want to be a part of their life. So I’m learning to build ramps, seats and nests when they want to be a part of mine – and maybe if I serve them a little pizza they’ll stick around a while.
I think the mess is worth it.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Anger Management
I have a confession to make. Yesterday, I lost it. I mean, really lost it. I was yelling, rude and out of control. I spoke unkindly to someone I love dearly. What an unflattering picture.
There have been a lot of pressures lately, and I feel like things are out of control. My shoulder is hurting again and I just plain old feel sorry for myself! To top things off, I didn't take my advice and make yesterday a day of rest but kept barreling through, trying to get 'caught up'.
None of this is an excuse. Today I hardly knew what to write. I considered another recipe or something about my shop, so I wouldn't have to face what I did. But I felt like a hypocrite so I'm 'fessing up. I had to apologize to both the recipient and other ears that were taking it all in. I know, however that words spoken cannot be unsaid and the pain of words lingers even after an apology.
The weird thing is, I would not talk that way to a stranger or a friend, but to my family, the people I care about the most. I reserved all my venom for them. So today, I am eating humble pie (trust me, it tastes nothing like apple or strawberry) and watching my tongue. I am confessing not just to you, but to my heavenly Father. I need him to renew me and live in me, so 'me' doesn't take over again.
So...to the ones I hurt...sorry, once again. I do love you and hope you will accept my apology.
Proverbs 13:3 Those who control their tongue will have a long life;
opening your mouth can ruin everything.
There have been a lot of pressures lately, and I feel like things are out of control. My shoulder is hurting again and I just plain old feel sorry for myself! To top things off, I didn't take my advice and make yesterday a day of rest but kept barreling through, trying to get 'caught up'.
None of this is an excuse. Today I hardly knew what to write. I considered another recipe or something about my shop, so I wouldn't have to face what I did. But I felt like a hypocrite so I'm 'fessing up. I had to apologize to both the recipient and other ears that were taking it all in. I know, however that words spoken cannot be unsaid and the pain of words lingers even after an apology.
The weird thing is, I would not talk that way to a stranger or a friend, but to my family, the people I care about the most. I reserved all my venom for them. So today, I am eating humble pie (trust me, it tastes nothing like apple or strawberry) and watching my tongue. I am confessing not just to you, but to my heavenly Father. I need him to renew me and live in me, so 'me' doesn't take over again.
So...to the ones I hurt...sorry, once again. I do love you and hope you will accept my apology.
Proverbs 13:3 Those who control their tongue will have a long life;
opening your mouth can ruin everything.
Friday, June 11, 2010
The Myth of Perfection
I had an interesting conversation with my nephew Jacob yesterday (or Ja-Bob, as I call him). He has been going through a very difficult time lately and is struggling with some serious issues.
We were in the car alone and had our local Christian radio station on. He was commenting on the songs, which ones he liked best and how powerful the words were. Then he told me, "sometimes I listen to this music, and I like it, but sometimes I listen to rap and it isn't good for me, but I want to do it anyway. I just can't help it."
I thought to myself, Jacob you are not alone. You see, my problem isn't rap music, but it is my flesh at war with my spirit. There are so many things I know I shouldn't do, but does that stop me? No. I am an adult - fairly mature and a parent at that. But it does not prevent me from battling with anger, pride, jealousy and other aspects of my sinful nature. On my own, I fail.
Paul could relate to me and Jacob. He spoke about how this affected him, in the book of Romans
"For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.
It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.
I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question?"
Romans 7:17-24 MSG
If we were to leave things there, we would be in a sorry state. But it doesn't end there, with hopelessness and defeat. Paul continues on...
25"The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different."
The key is not in working harder, but in submitting control to the One who is perfection. This does not let us off the hook. Quite the opposite. It requires a daily, sometimes hourly submitting of our will to God and admitting our weaknesses to him. It is our pride that keeps us striving for perfection. It is our humility that allows us to admit that we are flawed.
"God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it."
Ephesians 2:8,9 NLT
Thanks, Jacob, for reminding me that we are all alike in this struggle, and we are not alone.
"Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely."
We were in the car alone and had our local Christian radio station on. He was commenting on the songs, which ones he liked best and how powerful the words were. Then he told me, "sometimes I listen to this music, and I like it, but sometimes I listen to rap and it isn't good for me, but I want to do it anyway. I just can't help it."
I thought to myself, Jacob you are not alone. You see, my problem isn't rap music, but it is my flesh at war with my spirit. There are so many things I know I shouldn't do, but does that stop me? No. I am an adult - fairly mature and a parent at that. But it does not prevent me from battling with anger, pride, jealousy and other aspects of my sinful nature. On my own, I fail.
Paul could relate to me and Jacob. He spoke about how this affected him, in the book of Romans
"For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.
It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.
I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question?"
Romans 7:17-24 MSG
If we were to leave things there, we would be in a sorry state. But it doesn't end there, with hopelessness and defeat. Paul continues on...
25"The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different."
The key is not in working harder, but in submitting control to the One who is perfection. This does not let us off the hook. Quite the opposite. It requires a daily, sometimes hourly submitting of our will to God and admitting our weaknesses to him. It is our pride that keeps us striving for perfection. It is our humility that allows us to admit that we are flawed.
"God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it."
Ephesians 2:8,9 NLT
Thanks, Jacob, for reminding me that we are all alike in this struggle, and we are not alone.
"Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely."
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Floods
What a week! You know how sometimes life just comes at you like a flood and you feel like you are dog-paddling to keep up? Well, that is the way I feel today. I wish I could write something more light-hearted - yesterday I felt a bit of a reprieve, but today - BAM! Life is just hitting hard again. In fact, I had completed today's entry when I heard a shout outside and there was the actual flood. One of the kids had knocked the sprinkler system with a basketball and... well, here's what happened. This day started out bad and it isn't getting any better.
But my minor crises are nothing compared to what others are dealing with this week. There are two families I know who are grieving and struggling to come to terms with the loss of a mother. I have spoken with moms today who are overwhelmed and desperate for answers with how to help their children. I have someone very special to me that is having a terrible crisis of faith and needs peace. I am praying constantly for these dear ones. I have no answers, all I can do is reach out in love and pray.
In the midst of so much pain and confusion, life goes on. We have to continue with work, clean the house, make dinner and make sure the kids get their homework done (no easy task!). I would rather curl up in my bed, close my eyes and make it all go away.
But I keep moving on, not on my own strength. I am weak. But through the strength of the One who brings me peace and has promised...
"My grace is enough; it's all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness." 2 Corinthians 12:9
But my minor crises are nothing compared to what others are dealing with this week. There are two families I know who are grieving and struggling to come to terms with the loss of a mother. I have spoken with moms today who are overwhelmed and desperate for answers with how to help their children. I have someone very special to me that is having a terrible crisis of faith and needs peace. I am praying constantly for these dear ones. I have no answers, all I can do is reach out in love and pray.
In the midst of so much pain and confusion, life goes on. We have to continue with work, clean the house, make dinner and make sure the kids get their homework done (no easy task!). I would rather curl up in my bed, close my eyes and make it all go away.
But I keep moving on, not on my own strength. I am weak. But through the strength of the One who brings me peace and has promised...
"My grace is enough; it's all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness." 2 Corinthians 12:9
Monday, May 24, 2010
Farewell to a Friend
I have been struggling with what to say today. This morning I got a call from my mom to tell me that a dear friend had died. Cindy had been ill for a very extended time and confined to a hospital bed. Sometimes she would respond to visitors and at other times there was nothing but a blank stare. The last time I saw her she smiled warmly when I came in the room and sang along with me.
Throughout her illness her beautiful children have been without the presence of a loving mother in their home. They have done their very best to care for each other and 'keep the faith'. We will never know how difficult this has been for them. Cindy's courageous mom is in poor health herself and I cannot imagine the grief she bears, losing another child.
After talking to Pam on the phone today, I thought I would share with you the things I loved the most about my friend and the times we spent together, before kids, before marriage, before life became very complicated!
- her sense of humor - she was the queen of practical jokes and spent a small fortune on Charmin to TP people's houses - my father was NOT amused
- her gift of music - she played the piano beautifully and loved music!
- her generosity
- her smile - killer!
- her M&M cookies - yum! I need to make some today.
- her sense of adventure - we traveled from Canada to Central America together, and we were 'cohorts in crime'
I chose this grainy old picture of us for several reasons (I'm in the pink and Cindy is in black beside me). I love to remember the fun we had having dinner on top of the CN Tower in Toronto. We are seated with our youth pastor Dennis and his beautiful wife Lynda. Oh, how we tormented those two. I know we look sweet and innocent in the picture, but it is by God's grace alone that Dennis and Lynda still love us!
Ultimately, it is God's grace that I am dwelling on most today. I knew Cindy well enough to know that she was talented and beautiful, but also complicated and flawed (just like me!)
It is comforting and precious beyond words to know that today, her suffering is over, her body is released from its terrible bondage and she is resting at the feet of Jesus.
Cindy, you are loved. You will be missed. I will see you soon.
"So we're not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There's far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can't see now will last forever."
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (The Message)
Throughout her illness her beautiful children have been without the presence of a loving mother in their home. They have done their very best to care for each other and 'keep the faith'. We will never know how difficult this has been for them. Cindy's courageous mom is in poor health herself and I cannot imagine the grief she bears, losing another child.
After talking to Pam on the phone today, I thought I would share with you the things I loved the most about my friend and the times we spent together, before kids, before marriage, before life became very complicated!
- her sense of humor - she was the queen of practical jokes and spent a small fortune on Charmin to TP people's houses - my father was NOT amused
- her gift of music - she played the piano beautifully and loved music!
- her generosity
- her smile - killer!
- her M&M cookies - yum! I need to make some today.
- her sense of adventure - we traveled from Canada to Central America together, and we were 'cohorts in crime'
I chose this grainy old picture of us for several reasons (I'm in the pink and Cindy is in black beside me). I love to remember the fun we had having dinner on top of the CN Tower in Toronto. We are seated with our youth pastor Dennis and his beautiful wife Lynda. Oh, how we tormented those two. I know we look sweet and innocent in the picture, but it is by God's grace alone that Dennis and Lynda still love us!
Ultimately, it is God's grace that I am dwelling on most today. I knew Cindy well enough to know that she was talented and beautiful, but also complicated and flawed (just like me!)
It is comforting and precious beyond words to know that today, her suffering is over, her body is released from its terrible bondage and she is resting at the feet of Jesus.
Cindy, you are loved. You will be missed. I will see you soon.
"So we're not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There's far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can't see now will last forever."
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (The Message)
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