For all that Life Might Bring

Barely weighing 70 pounds with a delicate, aristocratic face framed by perfectly coiffed grey hair, my 95-year-old Aunt Sarah was always dressed and ready for company.

Glasses perched on her nose, she was starched from head to toe. In fact, Aunt Sarah even starched her sheets! When she died this past spring, she was the last of an elegant generation of Finches on my dad’s side. Ian and I would stop and visit with her on our way to Dallas, but we didn’t get up there very often. Once, her caregiver told us that every morning Aunt Sarah would wake up and dress and then wait for someone to come and visit. She’d sit in her chair and wait and wait and wait. 

Most of her friends had died, her husband and child were dead, and very few people came to visit. The caregiver told us that Aunt Sarah never understood why people didn’t come.  But still she waited and hoped they would. 

We were visitors in Aunt Sarah’s life, but her caregiver of 20 years, Louise, was her family who helped her dress and get ready every day for all that life might bring. 

I’ve prayed that God always bring forth the vision of Aunt Sarah – starched and waiting for company – whenever a relative or a friend or an acquaintance flashes through my mind, a reminder to pick up the phone and make a call, say a prayer, or drop a note. A reminder that relationships are important.  And a reminder that we may never know how important that phone call or prayer or note might be in helping someone else in God’s family get ready for all that life might bring. 

God's High Frequency List

Pedro wouldn’t let go of his bone. Despite repeated attempts to pry it away, our 10-pound, white and black terrier knew what he wanted and he would not let go. The harder we tried, the tighter he held on, determined not to have it taken away. He was tenacious. A rat terrier acting like a pit bull. Our dog with his bone. 

That’s the way I tried to explain tenacity to my 9th grade students. A high frequency word found repeatedly on the Scholastic Aptitude Test or SAT, tenacity is a word they needed to understand.

To hold on to something – persistently and determinedly and firmly –and not let go. My day hadn’t been going so well. Maybe I needed a bit more tenacity myself – spiritual tenacity, that is. 

If God had a high frequency list, I think spiritual tenacity would make the cut of qualities helpful for us to understand because they appear frequently in this test of life. Nouns like courage and forgiveness and hope, characteristics of some of the men and women in the Bible who needed these character traits for they had to use them repeatedly on multiple exams in their life. And they were tenacious about using them, too.

Joe is 55 years old and recently lost his job. He has worked at the same company since he graduated from high school, and he is frightened.  Weren’t things getting better, not worse? A fine Christian man and a fine employee, economic uncertainties were certainly in his face. Devastated, Joe doesn’t know what to do.  

Jenny’s husband is leaving her for a friend. That wasn’t the reason, he said, but she knew otherwise. For fifteen years, she has worked as a mother, wife, cook, accountant, cleaner, and car-pooler, and she’s scared. With a mortgage, three children, and uncertainly about her future income, she doesn’t know what to do.  She, too, is devastated.

When she was six-years-old, my niece Mollie walked in the living room, rubbing her eyes and crying that there “were too tears!”  Taking the Johnson’s baby shampoo, she had rubbed a large portion in her eyes to see if there really were “no more tears.”

In life, there “are too tears.” No doubt about it. The psalms make that clear. Undoubtedly, in heaven one day, there will be no more tears – no need for mammograms and colonscopies! No need for unemployement or Kleenex! No more uncertainties or desperation or fear. Bad things won’t happen to good people. In the meantime, Pedro’s example is a reminder to hang on to God with everything we’ve got. To hold on with dogged determination. To refuse to be pulled away. To remember the importance of spiritual tenacity during the tough times that test our resolve to stick close to God no matter what.

And to remember that God, too, has a tenacious grip on us.

"For I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you" (Isaiah 41:13 NIV).

Spiritual tenacity would definitely make God’s high frequency list.

He's the God of Much More

One Saturday morning after an exhausting week at work, I stood listening to the coffeemaker grind the beans, and as I was standing there, an old hymn marched through my mind – an old hymn with new words that I couldn’t help singing: “Ground up, ground up for Jesus, ye soldiers of the cross…”  Ground up! That’s how I was feeling. Anybody know what I mean?

I remember thinking that I needed a break! And praying,“Lord, I just need a little break!” But marching right beside that tired tune was a gentle reminder – Jesus isn’t little. He isn’t a little pick-me-up to get me through the day. He isn’t a little bandage to hide my wounded week. He isn’t a little Advil for my aches and pains. Jesus isn’t little. When was I going to start acting like He was much more?

Recently I’ve been trying to make healthier eating choices, and one thing I miss is Blue Bell Ice  Cream. Blue Bell and I have a history. When I was pregnant with our son, Reid, I started eating the Dutch Chocolate out of the freezer after my husband had gone to work one day. And as the day went by, I’d go by the freezer and eat some more. And some more. And then some more again until there was no more Blue Bell. None. So I had a problem, which I promptly solved by going to the grocery store and buying another gallon of Dutch Chocolate. But then I had another problem. I had to eat the ice cream in the new gallon down to where it had been the night before so Ian wouldn’t know what I had done.

Eating more Blue Bell wasn’t the best thing I ever did, nor the worst either for that matter. But I did tell my husband, and it became his favorite story. He wanted a Blue Bell billboard that said, “Thanks, Blue Bell, for my 10-pound baby boy!”

Ephesians 3:20 says,“ Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all than we ask or think according to the power that workest in us" (AMS). And do you know what “exceedingly abundantly above all” means? Oh, yes. It means more! But it’s much more than more. It’s like more on spiritual steroids! With God, more is always more. And it’s a good more!

Today, what if we don’t settle for a little break from our struggles? What if we expect more today than a little relief from the grinder? What if we take God up on everything that he says and just want more? With God more isn’t a bad word; with God, more is more.

How much power does it take to raise the dead? That’s the more we’re talking about here! That isn’t the power of positive thinking, but the power of God.

One of my favorite verses is to “taste and see that the Lord is good!” Jesus keeps us coming back for more because He’s the best there is. And since His more is “exceedingly abundantly” more than we can ever imagine, I’m praying today to be more awed by his presence and more wowed by who He is than I ever have before. And not to forget that He's the God of  much more.

And I’m also going to write Ephesians 3:20 above my coffeemaker!

Watching and Waiting and Wondering

I was pulling weeds in our garden one Saturday morning, and our fourteen-year-old beagle, Riley, was watching me from the porch. He had quit following me around the yard and plopped himself down to rest.  Most of the time his eyes were shut, but occasionally, as I walked by, he’d crack open one eye and stare at me. He didn’t get up, he didn’t even move, but he simply looked to see if there was anything worth standing up for – food preferably.

Watching him watch me, I wondered if that’s what I look like to God sometimes. Plopped down. Napping. Chilling. Not moving too much. Waiting for something good to be tossed my way. And occasionally, just occasionally when His presence was so obviously felt, I’d open one eye – ever so slightly - to see if there was anything exciting going on that I should bother to rouse myself.

Ole’ Riley was missing a lot as the garden is a zoo of activity even when the weather isn’t the most pleasant. Stray, grey cats waiting to pounce on innocent goldfish in our homemade water garden. Annoying moles and scampering squirrels. We even saw one frisky squirrel climb into a bird feeder only to find himself in the precarious situation of being stuck. Then there are these crazy frogs who croak like they’re on a never-ending diet of steroids.

And my darlin’ dog was missing it because he didn’t bother to stand up and stay close by me as I worked; he was happy where he was. 

And that got me thinking of all the times – known and unknown – when I’ve done that same thing. When I’ve missed out on the exciting activity in God’s world because I was quite content just watching and waiting.

God strategically places us to watch and to wait and to wonder, but also to believe and expect and be ready. I’ve probably missed divinely orchestrated opportunities because I didn’t want to stand up, but there’s still a flurry of activity in God’s world.  Plenty of opportunities to marvel at what the God of the Impossible can do. And sometimes important opportunities are disguised as times when all we seem to be doing is waiting and watching and wondering.

I’m going to remember that today as I go to work, and to the gym, and to the grocery store, and to my husband’s office, and to all the places where I find myself. I’m going to remember to keep my eyes wide open and be ready.  And I’m going to pray that I don’t miss the magnitude of any more magnificent God moments!

Limping Along

Recently, I was asked to provide a bio for a speaking event. As I pulled up the one I had saved on my computer, I started thinking, instead, about Jacob and how he wrestled with God and then limped for the rest of his life. His story told in Genesis 32:22-31 has always fascinated me.

Jacob limped. He didn’t hide his limp. He didn’t pretend he wasn’t hurt. He didn’t sit down and refuse to walk anymore because he limped. Nor does he seem to care if people now see him with a limp. He simply limped. Probably for the rest of his life.

I always tried to keep my limp from showing. I didn’t want anyone to know I struggled with God. I tried to hide the things that I questioned and didn’t understand.  The things that didn’t make any sense. I didn’t want people to know I wrestled.  I didn’t want them to see I limped.   

But the story of Jacob changes all that. For his story isn’t about a man’s limp; instead, it’s about the touch of God. The very powerful touch of God.

God touches our lives. And Jacob’s story reminds me that I should wear my limp without shame.   That my limp is more than a weakness; indeed, it’s one of the most important things about me for it points the way to God.

My bio shouldn't be about awards or earthly accomplishments, but it should read:   She was insecure, yet God loved her. She was always messing up and wandering off, but God watched for her and couldn’t wait to welcome her back. She couldn’t do it by herself, so God was always there, walking with her. He was always faithful. Always loving. Always strong.

Yes, she limped and she wrestled and she struggled, but her life was anything but ordinary because of the powerful touch of her extraordinary God whose "grace is sufficient" and whose “power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV).