You have never seen Him but you love Him. You cannot see Him now but you are putting your trust in Him. And you have joy so great that words cannot tell about it. (1 Peter 1:8)
Do you remember when you accepted Christ as the one and only Lord and Savior? Where were you in your life? What were the circumstances? Was it a small, still voice that spoke the truth to your heart? Or was it a significant event in your life - good or bad - that convinced you of the truth of Jesus? When you look back on that time, what feeling does it spark within you?
I love to hear the testimony of fellow Christians, don't you? I love hearing how the Holy Spirit infected the soul of an ordinary person and transformed him/her from the inside out. One need only encounter a committed Christian to be convinced of the presence and power of God in our world. We are all little miracles in God's kingdom, a direct reflection of His light. How amazing is that?
For me, Jesus became a part of my life on a June night as a young adult. A devastating event in my youth had sent me running from God, and I had all but collapsed under the weight of the godless life I had created for myself. I was tired of running, and so for the first time in over a decade, I spoke to God. I confessed, I screamed, I cried...Have you ever had a talk like that with God? I begged Him to take me back, to heal me and love me. I fell asleep in a pool of my own tears, soul-weary. I awoke to a violent thunderstorm in the night, followed by a morning so glorious, only a fellow Christian could understand without further explanation. Life has been, and always will be, a roller coaster ride, but that night, Jesus set up camp in me and He's never left. His tent was always ready to be pitched - I was just too afraid to open camp.
The disadvantage of finally accepting Jesus as a young adult is that I missed out on His abundance as a teenager. The advantage is that even now, I am finding riches within God's Word that I never knew before. As an adult who can perhaps appreciate it more than a youngster, I absolutely delight in discovering and pondering the unending supply of those riches. What a marvelous thing to hunger for God, and to be both filled by Him and made hungrier at the same time!
When I think back upon that June night, and when I hear the testimony of other believers, I am always reminded of the part of "Amazing Grace" that says, "How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed." How precious indeed! But my brother, a wonderful man and committed Christian, likes to add to that verse by saying, "And every hour since."
Indeed, accepting Jesus into your life is precious and indescribable. But for those who remain hungry for God, every hour since is just as precious. Praise God!
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Redefining Random
Each of us should live to please his neighbor. This will help him grow in faith. (Romans 15:2)
The term "random act of kindness" has become so commonplace in today's world, it ranks right up there with "there's an app for that." We all know what it means: doing something kind and generous - however large or small - for anyone, whether a perfect stranger or someone we know, with positively no expectation of or need for reward or recognition. Such acts make the giver and receiver feel happy, and they restore a sense of goodness and wholeness to humanity. For us chuch folk, they are done as a way of witnessing for Christ, and to make the receivers of our acts wonder (and hopefully ask) from where our generosity comes. Upon thinking about all this, it occurs to me...why are such things "random"?
The Merriam Webster dictionary defines the word random as "without definite aim, direction, rule, or method." So, a random act of kindness is something done spontaneously, out of the joy of one's heart, with no thought to exactly how, when or where it should be directed? That's one way of looking at it, but there are also well-planned acts of kindness, such as Pastor Norm's example of buying a box-full of hot chocolates for fans at the Middies football game. The end result is the same - joy unexpected.
Therein lies the sad part of this discussion: We've come to a point in our society where we don't expect people to be nice. We implore each other to set aside time to be kind to another person, as though it is a chore to be checked off a to-do list. I suspect much of this is because we are afraid...afraid of getting into someone's space, or them getting into ours...fear of making a fool of ourselves...fear of cynicism from those who wonder what we're trying to buy with our good deeds. Or perhaps it's apathy, fueled by an "it's all about me" culture. Whatever the reason, we have found ourselves so disconnected from loving-kindness that we have to be reminded that it's not just our duty, but our joy.
It reminds me of the recent "Play 60" campaign by the NFL. Kids are encouraged to turn off the video games and to "get up and play 60 minutes every day" primarily as a means of reducing obesity and promoting overall health and wellness. I don't know about you, but I never thought we'd get to the point where kids had to be told to play. But I'm also reminded of simpler things, such as women who tell me that my husband is "so wonderful" for spending time playing with and taking care of our daughter. My response: "Why shouldn't he? He's her father."
In the end, it's all about expectations. The gap between what our society does to and for each other, and what God expects of us, seems to widen with each generation. I am as guilty as anyone of too often hiding behind fear or apathy. But God's Word makes it clear how we should treat one another every day. In God's kingdom, acts of kindness are not bullet points on a flow chart. They are a way of life. There's nothing random about that.
The term "random act of kindness" has become so commonplace in today's world, it ranks right up there with "there's an app for that." We all know what it means: doing something kind and generous - however large or small - for anyone, whether a perfect stranger or someone we know, with positively no expectation of or need for reward or recognition. Such acts make the giver and receiver feel happy, and they restore a sense of goodness and wholeness to humanity. For us chuch folk, they are done as a way of witnessing for Christ, and to make the receivers of our acts wonder (and hopefully ask) from where our generosity comes. Upon thinking about all this, it occurs to me...why are such things "random"?
The Merriam Webster dictionary defines the word random as "without definite aim, direction, rule, or method." So, a random act of kindness is something done spontaneously, out of the joy of one's heart, with no thought to exactly how, when or where it should be directed? That's one way of looking at it, but there are also well-planned acts of kindness, such as Pastor Norm's example of buying a box-full of hot chocolates for fans at the Middies football game. The end result is the same - joy unexpected.
Therein lies the sad part of this discussion: We've come to a point in our society where we don't expect people to be nice. We implore each other to set aside time to be kind to another person, as though it is a chore to be checked off a to-do list. I suspect much of this is because we are afraid...afraid of getting into someone's space, or them getting into ours...fear of making a fool of ourselves...fear of cynicism from those who wonder what we're trying to buy with our good deeds. Or perhaps it's apathy, fueled by an "it's all about me" culture. Whatever the reason, we have found ourselves so disconnected from loving-kindness that we have to be reminded that it's not just our duty, but our joy.
It reminds me of the recent "Play 60" campaign by the NFL. Kids are encouraged to turn off the video games and to "get up and play 60 minutes every day" primarily as a means of reducing obesity and promoting overall health and wellness. I don't know about you, but I never thought we'd get to the point where kids had to be told to play. But I'm also reminded of simpler things, such as women who tell me that my husband is "so wonderful" for spending time playing with and taking care of our daughter. My response: "Why shouldn't he? He's her father."
In the end, it's all about expectations. The gap between what our society does to and for each other, and what God expects of us, seems to widen with each generation. I am as guilty as anyone of too often hiding behind fear or apathy. But God's Word makes it clear how we should treat one another every day. In God's kingdom, acts of kindness are not bullet points on a flow chart. They are a way of life. There's nothing random about that.
Friday, October 21, 2011
The Perfect Partner
Let us hold on to the hope we say we have and not be changed. We can trust God that He will do what He promised. (Hebrews 10:23)
I heard the most beautiful story on the radio yesterday. A couple in their nineties had been married for over seventy years. They were so enamored with each other that they became engaged after just twelve hours of courtship. They married and built a wonderful life around their love and that of their children. They never left each other's side. Recently, they were involved in a serious car accident. When the hospital called in the couple's son, he found his parents barely clinging to life. It was apparent that they would not survive, so the son had the couple placed in beds side-by-side in the same room. The couple held hands, and the man soon died. The hospital staff did not realize at first that he had passed, because his wife's pulse penetrated the skin on his hand and the monitor that had been attached to him. She died a short time later. In preparation for the burial, the son purchased a specially-made casket that allowed his parents to be buried together, side-by-side.
I'm not one to be overcome by emotion at the telling of such a story, but this one brought tears to my eyes. My husband and I have been a couple for nearly half our lives. It's hard to imagine life without him, and yet our longevity thus far pales in comparison to this couple. As tragic as the end of this couple's life was, it speaks a beautiful story of love and commitment, especially in an era where true commitment is hard to find. I can only hope that my husband and I will leave a similar legacy.
What got to me the most about this story, however, was not the lesson it teaches us about the commitment we have to each other, but rather the commitment we have to God. Human relationships are so important, but they are also so frail. They take a lot of work to keep them healthy and thriving, but sometimes our best efforts are not enough. We make a lot of promises to each other, whether it's on the altar, the death bed, or places in between. Sometimes we keep those promises, other times not.
Despite the imperfection of our human relationships, we can rest assured that God will always keep His promise to love us. He will never turn away from us if we accept Him as part of our lives. He will not forsake us on the altar, on our death beds, or any place in-between, if we invite Him into those places. A relationship with Jesus takes effort on our end, like any other relationship. But unlike ourselves, Jesus won't divorce us due to our imperfections. He is not interested in the fruitless pursuit of worldly perfection. He wants our love, our devotion, and our obedience to Him by faith. He wants us just as we are - imperfections and all.
In life and in death, I hope to always be holding my husband's hand. Regardless, my other hand is always free to hold onto the mighty hand of Jesus. His grip is warm, loving and tireless. He will pull me through whatever I encounter on earth, and ultimately, He will escort me to His very side in heaven. That's a promise I can count on, praise God.
I heard the most beautiful story on the radio yesterday. A couple in their nineties had been married for over seventy years. They were so enamored with each other that they became engaged after just twelve hours of courtship. They married and built a wonderful life around their love and that of their children. They never left each other's side. Recently, they were involved in a serious car accident. When the hospital called in the couple's son, he found his parents barely clinging to life. It was apparent that they would not survive, so the son had the couple placed in beds side-by-side in the same room. The couple held hands, and the man soon died. The hospital staff did not realize at first that he had passed, because his wife's pulse penetrated the skin on his hand and the monitor that had been attached to him. She died a short time later. In preparation for the burial, the son purchased a specially-made casket that allowed his parents to be buried together, side-by-side.
I'm not one to be overcome by emotion at the telling of such a story, but this one brought tears to my eyes. My husband and I have been a couple for nearly half our lives. It's hard to imagine life without him, and yet our longevity thus far pales in comparison to this couple. As tragic as the end of this couple's life was, it speaks a beautiful story of love and commitment, especially in an era where true commitment is hard to find. I can only hope that my husband and I will leave a similar legacy.
What got to me the most about this story, however, was not the lesson it teaches us about the commitment we have to each other, but rather the commitment we have to God. Human relationships are so important, but they are also so frail. They take a lot of work to keep them healthy and thriving, but sometimes our best efforts are not enough. We make a lot of promises to each other, whether it's on the altar, the death bed, or places in between. Sometimes we keep those promises, other times not.
Despite the imperfection of our human relationships, we can rest assured that God will always keep His promise to love us. He will never turn away from us if we accept Him as part of our lives. He will not forsake us on the altar, on our death beds, or any place in-between, if we invite Him into those places. A relationship with Jesus takes effort on our end, like any other relationship. But unlike ourselves, Jesus won't divorce us due to our imperfections. He is not interested in the fruitless pursuit of worldly perfection. He wants our love, our devotion, and our obedience to Him by faith. He wants us just as we are - imperfections and all.
In life and in death, I hope to always be holding my husband's hand. Regardless, my other hand is always free to hold onto the mighty hand of Jesus. His grip is warm, loving and tireless. He will pull me through whatever I encounter on earth, and ultimately, He will escort me to His very side in heaven. That's a promise I can count on, praise God.
Monday, October 10, 2011
The Sweetness of Doing Nothing
This week, Pastor Norm's first sermon in the "Strong Challenge" was about the importance of play and rest. As I listened to his message, I was reminded of a scene in a movie that addresses this very issue. The movie is "Eat Pray Love," starring Julia Roberts as real-life divorcee Liz Gilbert, who finds healing and refreshment in a year-long journey in Italy, India and Bali. While in Italy, a native of that country discusses the abject failure of Americans to engage in - and actually enjoy - recreation and rest. Americans feel guilty for taking time off, he says, and when we do, it involves sitting in front of the TV in our pajamas. By contrast, "When an Italian sees a sign that says 'you deserve a break today,' he says, 'yeah, I know.'" Out of this discussion, Liz learns a time-honored Italian phrase: "il dolce far niente" - the sweetness of doing nothing.
I've been known to feel guilty about taking time off. When my work is done, I often actually feel restless and uncomfortable not having anything that "must" be done. I can't count how many times just today I've caught myself looking out the window at work with a frown on my face, deep in thought about the mental "to-do" list I've created. Suddenly, my brain processes the beauty of the leaves changing color and the frown vanishes. How did life get this way? Why do we do this to ourselves?
And then there's eating... What could be more pleasurable than eating good food? Yet, don't we also carry a tremendous amount of guilt about the number of calories or carbs we've consumed? Our afore-mentioned Liz, having learned her lesson on sweet nothingness, offers another nugget of wisdom on this topic. When consoling a friend who's hesitating to eat the fattening pizza in front of her, Liz declares that she's tired of getting on the scale each morning so she can determine how much self-loathing to take with her into the shower. She says, "I have no interest in being obese, I'm just done with the guilt."
But perhaps a friend and former coworker of mine said it best. I worked with Pascale, a massage therapist, in my previous job. She developed bone cancer, which eventually took her life. While dealing with her illness, she was in need of money. When I offered to give her some, she insisted that she earn it by giving me a massage. I'll never forget the uneasy feeling of getting a relaxing massage from someone battling cancer, but even more memorable was what she said to me when I lamented being seen without my clothes on. She said, "Becky, let me ask you something: When you walk up stairs, can you do it without getting out of breath? Can you take a deep breath anytime you want, without any effort?" When I answered both questions in the affirmative, she said, "Then what difference does a love handle make?"
Whether it's from a movie character, a woman battling disease, or our pastor, the message is the same: Life is too short to analyze how much rest and relaxation we deserve to enjoy. God did not make us robots to work incessantly with no sense of joy or refreshment. All work and no play doesn't just make Jack a dull boy, it makes us all ineffective and uninspired for the real work God has called us to do.
Have a wonderful week, and don't forget to engage in il dolce far niente!
I've been known to feel guilty about taking time off. When my work is done, I often actually feel restless and uncomfortable not having anything that "must" be done. I can't count how many times just today I've caught myself looking out the window at work with a frown on my face, deep in thought about the mental "to-do" list I've created. Suddenly, my brain processes the beauty of the leaves changing color and the frown vanishes. How did life get this way? Why do we do this to ourselves?
And then there's eating... What could be more pleasurable than eating good food? Yet, don't we also carry a tremendous amount of guilt about the number of calories or carbs we've consumed? Our afore-mentioned Liz, having learned her lesson on sweet nothingness, offers another nugget of wisdom on this topic. When consoling a friend who's hesitating to eat the fattening pizza in front of her, Liz declares that she's tired of getting on the scale each morning so she can determine how much self-loathing to take with her into the shower. She says, "I have no interest in being obese, I'm just done with the guilt."
But perhaps a friend and former coworker of mine said it best. I worked with Pascale, a massage therapist, in my previous job. She developed bone cancer, which eventually took her life. While dealing with her illness, she was in need of money. When I offered to give her some, she insisted that she earn it by giving me a massage. I'll never forget the uneasy feeling of getting a relaxing massage from someone battling cancer, but even more memorable was what she said to me when I lamented being seen without my clothes on. She said, "Becky, let me ask you something: When you walk up stairs, can you do it without getting out of breath? Can you take a deep breath anytime you want, without any effort?" When I answered both questions in the affirmative, she said, "Then what difference does a love handle make?"
Whether it's from a movie character, a woman battling disease, or our pastor, the message is the same: Life is too short to analyze how much rest and relaxation we deserve to enjoy. God did not make us robots to work incessantly with no sense of joy or refreshment. All work and no play doesn't just make Jack a dull boy, it makes us all ineffective and uninspired for the real work God has called us to do.
Have a wonderful week, and don't forget to engage in il dolce far niente!
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