Why don't candy canes taste as good on December 26th as they did the previous four weeks?
Overnight, radio stations have stopped playing Christmas music and resumed regular programming. Shiny packages wrapped with care are now shreds of white with ribbons trailing like puppy leashes. Holiday dinners are now leftovers.
Christmas trees are looking tired, and the glow of the rooftop lights is overshadowed by the prospect of bringing them down. And even as you read this, some are returning gifts they received only yesterday.
Christmas appears to be screeching to a halt if you merely take into account those cultural embellishments that we hang on the holy day like flashy ornaments. Their temporariness reflects the material life we live now, but the true gift of Christmas is eternal.
The "good tidings of great joy" have never been rescinded by their giver. The world doesn't outgrow the gift, its beauty doesn't fade with time, and it remains as consistent and relevant in 2010 as it was in 33 A.D. There is no expiration date on God's version of love and grace.
But why did God offer his love through this baby?
Max Lucado writes, "If our greatest need had been information, God would have sent an educator. If our greatest need had been technology, God would have sent us a scientist. If our greatest need had been money, God would have sent us an economist. But since our greatest need was forgiveness, God sent us a Savior."
Happily for us, as John R.W. Stott said, "The gospel is good news of mercy to the undeserving. The symbol of the religion of Jesus is the cross, not the scales."
Spiritually speaking, thank goodness we do not get what we deserve, because we all carry around the ghost of Ebenezer Scrooge -- and worse.
But God gave us himself through Jesus.
A.W. Tozer says, "An infinite God can give all of himself to each of his children. He does not distribute himself that each may have a part, but to each one he gives all of himself as fully as if there were no others."
The birth of Christ was a gift to all the world, but it is an individual gift to you and me as well, designed to fill our voids, heal our wounds and receive our devotion as only an intimate creator can.
We are meant to walk through life hand-in-hand with the Gift.
As I celebrate Christmas, I want to leave a legacy for my children and grandchildren: the good news of the gift which fits perfectly every need known to man, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.
The words of a regenerated Ebenezer Scrooge never fail to move me: "I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach."
And I would add, "I will not shut out the greatest gift, but receive it with my whole heart and share it to the best of my ability." May we never take the gift of Christmas for granted.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
This Race Can Be Won
If your child had a severe disorder so rare that only 11 people in the world have it, would you be able to find thankfulness in your heart this season?If every morning when you woke up you couldn't predict which debilitating symptoms of a horrible disease would plague you that day, would you find joy enough in your heart to sing and smile?
I just returned from Be The Match, a public event for the collection of DNA samples to find a stem cell match for Kelsey and Karly Koch, two young sisters afflicted with a grave primary immune deficiency disease.
Here are my observations about thankfulness in the midst of a heart-wrenching situation:
The turnout for the event was amazing. As I instructed dozens of donors on the proper cheek-swabbing procedure, I was moved over and over by sincere, enthusiastic exclamations such as, "I hope I'm the one! I want to be the match!" I was so grateful to witness sacrificial love that prompted people to wait in line, donate funds and pray that they would indeed "be the one."
I stood next to Kelsey, 21, as she spoke with donors, smiling the whole time and expressing hope for a future and gratitude for those who had come to help her, even though she had awakened that morning feeling worse than you or I could probably imagine.
I observed my co-worker Christy, who poured so much energy into preparation for this day, buzzing around helping wherever she was needed. Christy was the force behind publicity, garnering donations from local businesses, communicating between the foundation and our church, coordinating, instructing and scheduling the volunteers, all because her heart was full of love and compassion for Karly and Kelsey.
I watched a loving father attend the event, helping where he could, while his wife was with Karly, 15, who is currently hospitalized at the National Institute of Health in Maryland, and I was thankful that the girls have such devoted parents and siblings.
Finally, how inspiring it was to read the following on Kelsey's blog recently:
"A song started playing in my head. God was singing to me the song Stay Strong:
You're in the moment now
When all that you've been blessed with
Is not enough
Here's where the ground gets loose
Here's where the devils call your bluff
Get up, there's further to go
Get up, there's more to be done
Get up, this witness is sure
Get up, this race can be won"
I'm grateful this season for all that is beautiful and good like bountiful harvests, health and other luxuries, but also for all that is beautiful and good in the midst of heartache and suffering. Thank you, Kelsey, for bringing thankfulness into a new light for all of us this year, especially me. This race can be won!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Running Home Published 10.17.09
Recently I lost a dear friend and high school classmate to cancer. Since Jim was a world-class runner, I often think about him while running.
The day after his funeral, I decided to go for a run but dreaded it because I hadn’t run in more than a week and knew it would be difficult.
I started strong, but with each mile it grew more difficult to understand how Jim or any human could endure an ultra marathon, 50 miles.
At mile 5 I was enjoying all the beauty around me, but by mile 8, I doubted I could finish. By mile 9, I was gasping, my gait slowed to a limp, and my hips hurt so badly I wanted to cry. I just kept thinking, “Go to the next telephone pole. Make it to the next mailbox.”
At dusk, the scenery grew dim, but I saw the lights of my house in the distance. I became completely focused on getting home: seeing my family, resting and being refreshed. Nothing else compared to this end—no chirping birds, no red and gold leaves, no fitness goals. Home meant everything.
At the last mile, I thought of several friends who passed recently. All fought diseases that wore them down with each passing week or month much as the miles were taking their toll on me.
For so long, they relished their journeys and were not ready to head home. I wondered if there came a time when everything around them, while still lovely, began to dim as the lights of “home” became brighter.
Parting from people we love is sad, but the sadder thing is to be in a race with no goal in mind. Merely to run and run and run through life stopping only for one novelty after another is very tiresome.
I know some don’t believe we can have an assurance of a “home” at the end of our lives. I couldn’t see my house at mile 8, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.
CS Lewis said: “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”
Faith in Christ isn’t “pie in the sky.” It challenges you to find meaning in suffering and death and prompts your spirit to admit, “This is hard truth” when truth must be faced, whether or not it’s politically correct or raises even more questions, such as, “Why Jim?”
As I grieve, I remind myself that Jim was not ultimately made for this life, beautiful as his life was with his family. He fought the good fight, finished the race and kept the faith (2 Tim. 4:7).
So now, at the end of each run when I re-live the joy of returning home, I take a second to think about Jim, who is really home, and that brings me an even deeper joy.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
"We're All Laughing With God" (9.12.09)
Who is Jesus to you?
Recently, my pastor closed a service by sharing a Regina Spektor song, sparking a whole lot of discussion due to the ambiguous last line: "We're all laughing with God."
I was certainly confused. It was all I could think about on the way home. Then my family discussed possible interpretations over lunch. We didn't agree.
Later that evening, a group of friends took up the discussion. We even piled into the hosts' home office to watch the video and analyze the lyrics. Then we read online comments to see what others thought. In spite of all of this research and theorizing, we never reached a consensus. Even the next day, co-workers gathered around my desk to discuss the enigmatic lyric.
Apparently, people feel that the song is meaningful and worthy of attention, but they also feel unsettled by it.
I think this is probably the way people felt about Jesus. They knew he was unique, that there was something deeply meaningful and worthy of attention about him, but he was also unsettling.
For instance, Jesus often turned old ideas upside down using parables and sarcasm to illuminate absurdities, especially concerning religious precepts stretched far beyond where they were intended to go: "You blind guides, filtering out a gnat and gulping down a camel." (Matthew 23:24). Not only was this a stinging rebuke aimed at religious leaders oppressing people with religious laws, but the idea of swallowing "unclean" (forbidden) gnats and camels was quite insulting. He could have simply said, "Pharisees, please stop being so hard on regular folk." But no, he went for the religious jugular.
Even Jesus's closest friends didn't always understand him. They didn't understand why he paused to bless babies when parents brought them. They wondered why he didn't lead the Jewish revolt against the Romans. They couldn't grasp his acceptance of his upcoming crucifixion.
None of his contemporaries understood why he ate with sinners, crossed cultural barriers or allowed Mary Magdalene to anoint his feet with oil. And sometimes, they just didn't get his lessons. He was always talking in riddles.
And yet there was something magnetic about Jesus. Crowds pursued him, public officials noticed him, religious leaders certainly envied and resented him.
Jesus once asked his disciples, "Who do the crowds say I am?" They reported several opinions. But then Jesus asked his friend Peter specifically: "Who do you say I am?"
People are still grappling with that question. Jesus is the line in the sand of all religious discourse. Around the world, we talk about him over dinner, in hospital rooms, in trendy coffee houses, convention centers, art museums, foxholes, weddings, funerals and around water coolers.
Putting aside misgivings you might have about organized religion, is there anything about Jesus himself you find appealing yet unsettling? Maybe you should consider joining the big conversation and answer the question, "Who do I think Jesus is?"
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
If you're interested in the lyrics and video:
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’re starving or freezing or so very poor
No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet
No one laughs at God
When their airplane start to uncontrollably shake
No one’s laughing at God
When they see the one they love, hand in hand with someone else
And they hope that they’re mistaken
No one laughs at God
When the cops knock on their door
And they say we got some bad news, sir
No one’s laughing at God
When there’s a famine or fire or flood
*Chorus*
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’ve lost all they’ve got
And they don’t know what for
No one laughs at God on the day they realize
That the last sight they’ll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one’s laughing at God when they’re saying their goodbyes
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughing at God in hospital
No one’s laughing at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God when they’re starving or freezing or so very
poor
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
We’re all laughing with God
Recently, my pastor closed a service by sharing a Regina Spektor song, sparking a whole lot of discussion due to the ambiguous last line: "We're all laughing with God."
I was certainly confused. It was all I could think about on the way home. Then my family discussed possible interpretations over lunch. We didn't agree.
Later that evening, a group of friends took up the discussion. We even piled into the hosts' home office to watch the video and analyze the lyrics. Then we read online comments to see what others thought. In spite of all of this research and theorizing, we never reached a consensus. Even the next day, co-workers gathered around my desk to discuss the enigmatic lyric.
Apparently, people feel that the song is meaningful and worthy of attention, but they also feel unsettled by it.
I think this is probably the way people felt about Jesus. They knew he was unique, that there was something deeply meaningful and worthy of attention about him, but he was also unsettling.
For instance, Jesus often turned old ideas upside down using parables and sarcasm to illuminate absurdities, especially concerning religious precepts stretched far beyond where they were intended to go: "You blind guides, filtering out a gnat and gulping down a camel." (Matthew 23:24). Not only was this a stinging rebuke aimed at religious leaders oppressing people with religious laws, but the idea of swallowing "unclean" (forbidden) gnats and camels was quite insulting. He could have simply said, "Pharisees, please stop being so hard on regular folk." But no, he went for the religious jugular.
Even Jesus's closest friends didn't always understand him. They didn't understand why he paused to bless babies when parents brought them. They wondered why he didn't lead the Jewish revolt against the Romans. They couldn't grasp his acceptance of his upcoming crucifixion.
None of his contemporaries understood why he ate with sinners, crossed cultural barriers or allowed Mary Magdalene to anoint his feet with oil. And sometimes, they just didn't get his lessons. He was always talking in riddles.
And yet there was something magnetic about Jesus. Crowds pursued him, public officials noticed him, religious leaders certainly envied and resented him.
Jesus once asked his disciples, "Who do the crowds say I am?" They reported several opinions. But then Jesus asked his friend Peter specifically: "Who do you say I am?"
People are still grappling with that question. Jesus is the line in the sand of all religious discourse. Around the world, we talk about him over dinner, in hospital rooms, in trendy coffee houses, convention centers, art museums, foxholes, weddings, funerals and around water coolers.
Putting aside misgivings you might have about organized religion, is there anything about Jesus himself you find appealing yet unsettling? Maybe you should consider joining the big conversation and answer the question, "Who do I think Jesus is?"
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
If you're interested in the lyrics and video:
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’re starving or freezing or so very poor
No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet
No one laughs at God
When their airplane start to uncontrollably shake
No one’s laughing at God
When they see the one they love, hand in hand with someone else
And they hope that they’re mistaken
No one laughs at God
When the cops knock on their door
And they say we got some bad news, sir
No one’s laughing at God
When there’s a famine or fire or flood
*Chorus*
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’ve lost all they’ve got
And they don’t know what for
No one laughs at God on the day they realize
That the last sight they’ll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one’s laughing at God when they’re saying their goodbyes
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughing at God in hospital
No one’s laughing at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God when they’re starving or freezing or so very
poor
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
We’re all laughing with God
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Marriage Gets Sweeter Through the Years
When I was a young girl planning my wedding, older people would offer impromptu marital advice in bursts reminiscent of popcorn popping near my face -- very annoying.I'd ask my mom, "Why do they want to dampen my joy and excitement? Doesn't anyone believe in love anymore?"
After 24 years of marriage, I know why they were compelled to caution me. Like the Apostle Paul, they understood that "those who marry will face many troubles in this life" (1Cor. 7:13). Paul acknowledged that even though singleness might hold specific trials and loneliness, getting married is just "asking for it," trouble-wise.
At 1:30 p.m. today, the daughter of dear friends is getting married. I've determined not to be one of those popcorn counselors, but instead tell Ann that if she can hang in there through those inevitable trials, marriage gets sweeter and sweeter.
Here's one example.
My husband, George, has been traveling on business this week. I've joked that when your spouse travels, there are many opportunities to live outside the couple that you've become.
For instance:
You can eat out of foam bowls with plastic forks to avoid dirty dishes.
You can get in and out of your vehicle without adjusting the seat and mirror.
There's no one to mock you for watching The Bachelorette.
Shaving legs, wearing makeup and getting out of sweats become options, not requirements.
You can see a chick flick on a Tuesday night with a friend just because you want to without feeling guilty.
You can indulge in sour cream and onion potato chips without worrying about bad breath.
As much fun as I had while he was gone, I experienced a small nagging feeling until George walked in the door and made me part of the couple that is us again. One of the mysteries of my life is how every year he grows dearer and dearer to me. I did not foresee this kind of love on my wedding day or even 10 years ago.
Now we're back to finishing each other's sentences, re-telling old private jokes, competing at crosswords, bouncing creative ideas off one another, encouraging each other spiritually, protecting and defending each other even in the midst of our own fights and marveling at our wonderful kids. We're also back to dirty dishes and car trouble.
So Ann, although "you will have many troubles," you and Andrew can survive, experiencing a deeper, sweeter love than you can imagine even on this special day. May you share the kind of love referred to in 1 Corinthians 13:7 which "always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres."
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
"Remembering Freedom And Who Died For It" (title by Star Press)
Recently during vacation, I awoke at 4:42 a.m. to a frightening mix of intermittent, deafening buzzing and pulsating, blinding light.Panicked and confused, it took me a second to realize that the fire alarm was going off. As I headed toward the door just a few steps away, I couldn't find my daughter because of the strobe of the lights, so I called her name and turned to pull her out of her bed.
Because she was already up and moving, I banged my forehead against hers so hard I saw stars, which only heightened my discombobulation.
Once we were assembled outside on the lawn, I realized I was wearing a knee-length night shirt and felt a little exposed, although everyone else was in the same vulnerable situation. The irony is, being the worry-wart that I am, whenever I travel, I always sleep in exercise pants and a T-shirt just in case there is an emergency -- except this time. I've always known the moment would come, I just didn't think it would be this time.
I noticed that those assembled on the lawn were in the same boat: taken by surprise, feeling exposed, no credit cards, laptops or phones to distract us. We were a pitiful homogeneous bunch, waiting around for direction from someone in charge.This unnerving experience along with the stories of recent celebrity deaths has prompted me to remember that inhaling one moment doesn't guarantee an exhalation. Even when medical knowledge gives us months to prepare for our exit, there is a definite moment when we are here, and then we simply aren't. It seems when anyone passes, we are all taken by surprise as I was during the hotel alarm. We do not seem to truly believe, as Hemingway said, that the bell will actually toll for us.
And when we move to the other side, no acquisitions or accolades we've garnered will mean anything as we stand empty handed, waiting for the next step from the one in charge.
As I watch the fireworks flash and fade this evening, remembering those who were alive one minute and gone the next so that I could live in a free country, I won't forget the one who died so that I can have freedom within, as well. And I won't forget that I have the same inevitable moment ahead of me: "In a flash, in the twinkling of an eye ... the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed." (1 Corinthians 15:52).
Saturday, May 30, 2009
To Graduates: Swing Away!
My eldest, Katie, graduated from Anderson University a couple of weeks ago and is currently in Australia, living one of her life's dreams: feeding wallabies and holding koalas.
It's not hard for me to imagine Katie doing that; all I have to do is recall her in a plaid sundress feeding her stuffed animals with a pink plastic spoon about 19 years ago, and I can see it clearly.
For her graduation, I wrote Katie a letter, excerpted here, that I'd like to share with moms and graduates:
Author Marilyn Ferguson said, "It's not so much that we're afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it's that place in between that we fear. It's like being between trapezes."
That's where you are right now, graduate, letting go of the bar behind you, anticipating that second swing to take you to your future. In this split second of your life, you're precariously suspended in air, hoping all the preparation you've done won't fail you when your big moment arrives.
Don't be afraid to grab the incoming bar and swing away! You're more capable than you know. When you're apprehensive, remember that the power of Christ is in you, giving you his wisdom, helping you accomplish his purpose in your life: "For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose" ( Philippians 2:13). When you surrender your life to Christ, the task ahead of you is never greater than the power in you (1 John 4:4b).
CS Lewis said, "We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad."
Well, no one wants to see you "go bad!" I'm glad you're not in diapers or braces anymore, although I miss my little girl so much sometimes. But it's been fun watching you hatch into such a great young woman.
When you were small, I tried to save you every bump and bruise, believing that as long as you were an arm's length away, nothing could harm you. You didn't even go to the mailbox unwatched by my loving eye.
When you started driving and filling out college applications, I realized that from then on, you would be farther than my arm's reach and eye's sight for the rest of your life.
I was forced to recognize that not only was I not in control of every influence and circumstance around you, but that I never was. Moms only like to think we are in control, which is silly because the truth is that someone much greater and wiser is in control. As Emerson said, "All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen."
And so I learned to let go of you bit by bit, which is what's supposed to happen in families. I let go of my own trapeze, believing that God would see both of us through to what lay ahead knowing, "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion" (Philippians 1:6).
So congratulations to my beautiful graduate — to all graduates.
You were born to fly for His glory -- swing away!
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
It's not hard for me to imagine Katie doing that; all I have to do is recall her in a plaid sundress feeding her stuffed animals with a pink plastic spoon about 19 years ago, and I can see it clearly.
For her graduation, I wrote Katie a letter, excerpted here, that I'd like to share with moms and graduates:
Author Marilyn Ferguson said, "It's not so much that we're afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it's that place in between that we fear. It's like being between trapezes."
That's where you are right now, graduate, letting go of the bar behind you, anticipating that second swing to take you to your future. In this split second of your life, you're precariously suspended in air, hoping all the preparation you've done won't fail you when your big moment arrives.
Don't be afraid to grab the incoming bar and swing away! You're more capable than you know. When you're apprehensive, remember that the power of Christ is in you, giving you his wisdom, helping you accomplish his purpose in your life: "For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose" ( Philippians 2:13). When you surrender your life to Christ, the task ahead of you is never greater than the power in you (1 John 4:4b).
CS Lewis said, "We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad."
Well, no one wants to see you "go bad!" I'm glad you're not in diapers or braces anymore, although I miss my little girl so much sometimes. But it's been fun watching you hatch into such a great young woman.
When you were small, I tried to save you every bump and bruise, believing that as long as you were an arm's length away, nothing could harm you. You didn't even go to the mailbox unwatched by my loving eye.
When you started driving and filling out college applications, I realized that from then on, you would be farther than my arm's reach and eye's sight for the rest of your life.
I was forced to recognize that not only was I not in control of every influence and circumstance around you, but that I never was. Moms only like to think we are in control, which is silly because the truth is that someone much greater and wiser is in control. As Emerson said, "All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen."
And so I learned to let go of you bit by bit, which is what's supposed to happen in families. I let go of my own trapeze, believing that God would see both of us through to what lay ahead knowing, "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion" (Philippians 1:6).
So congratulations to my beautiful graduate — to all graduates.
You were born to fly for His glory -- swing away!
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Challenge: Keeping In Step with the Spirit
Despite being married 23 years, I’m not a good cook.
Recently I overheard my husband, George, claim that living with me has been a life-long exercise in “faith-based eating.” Oh, that husband of mine, he’s so funny.
But he’s oh so right.
For example, once it was my turn to cook for a group of friends. Playing it safe, I prepared a stew which mainly required opening lots of cans. Imagine my horror when one friend ladled up a deadly-sharp can lid!
Now that you know the extent of my culinary deficits, you might be surprised to learn that I recently entered my church’s chili cook-off to benefit ALS.
Perhaps no one was more surprised than George.
But I did enter, a move not unlike a tone-deaf person auditioning for American Idol.
For weeks I tested several recipes until I finally concocted an original—which won the competition!
As Kelly Clarkson sang, “Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.” Or at least 23 years.
I’ve been so elated that I’ve been wearing my first-prize apron embroidered, “Grand Champion Chili Chef 2009” to school functions, church services, funerals, gynecology appointments, etc.
Oh, I kid. But I just can’t get over succeeding in a challenge I never dreamed possible.
George and I recently began hosting an Alpha group, where people come to wrestle with the big questions of life pertaining to faith. We were excited to begin, but for the first few weeks, we felt uncomfortable and a little incompetent, like I do in a kitchen.
Soon, we forged true friendships, sharing moments of spiritual growth that we never would have if we hadn’t said yes to the risky opportunity.
And last year, George began meeting weekly with an elementary student as part of the Kids’ Hope USA Program. At first he felt awkward and ineffective, but the student’s enthusiasm for their weekly meetings has affirmed George’s sense of purpose and fulfilled his desire to positively influence a student.
So maybe old dogs can learn new tricks. Because we were willing to feel uncomfortable for a little while, we’re leading a small group; George now has a precious new friend, and the world has a brand new chili recipe that totally rocks!
If we’re willing to find the places where God is at work and step into the game, we can shake off routine and make a difference. A little bit of discomfort can do a body and spirit good.
Galatians 5:25 says, “If we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.”
Is God calling you to take a step somewhere out of your comfort zone today? What will you miss if you don’t? What might you gain if you do?
Recently I overheard my husband, George, claim that living with me has been a life-long exercise in “faith-based eating.” Oh, that husband of mine, he’s so funny.
But he’s oh so right.
For example, once it was my turn to cook for a group of friends. Playing it safe, I prepared a stew which mainly required opening lots of cans. Imagine my horror when one friend ladled up a deadly-sharp can lid!
Now that you know the extent of my culinary deficits, you might be surprised to learn that I recently entered my church’s chili cook-off to benefit ALS.
Perhaps no one was more surprised than George.
But I did enter, a move not unlike a tone-deaf person auditioning for American Idol.
For weeks I tested several recipes until I finally concocted an original—which won the competition!
As Kelly Clarkson sang, “Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.” Or at least 23 years.
I’ve been so elated that I’ve been wearing my first-prize apron embroidered, “Grand Champion Chili Chef 2009” to school functions, church services, funerals, gynecology appointments, etc.
Oh, I kid. But I just can’t get over succeeding in a challenge I never dreamed possible.
George and I recently began hosting an Alpha group, where people come to wrestle with the big questions of life pertaining to faith. We were excited to begin, but for the first few weeks, we felt uncomfortable and a little incompetent, like I do in a kitchen.
Soon, we forged true friendships, sharing moments of spiritual growth that we never would have if we hadn’t said yes to the risky opportunity.
And last year, George began meeting weekly with an elementary student as part of the Kids’ Hope USA Program. At first he felt awkward and ineffective, but the student’s enthusiasm for their weekly meetings has affirmed George’s sense of purpose and fulfilled his desire to positively influence a student.
So maybe old dogs can learn new tricks. Because we were willing to feel uncomfortable for a little while, we’re leading a small group; George now has a precious new friend, and the world has a brand new chili recipe that totally rocks!
If we’re willing to find the places where God is at work and step into the game, we can shake off routine and make a difference. A little bit of discomfort can do a body and spirit good.
Galatians 5:25 says, “If we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.”
Is God calling you to take a step somewhere out of your comfort zone today? What will you miss if you don’t? What might you gain if you do?
Saturday, March 21, 2009
When God Speaks, Are You Listening?
Tell me how you like to communicate, and I’ll guess how old you are.
If you rely on telephones, you’re probably reading this through bifocals.
If you prefer email and instant messages, you may be growing a wrinkle at this very moment because you’re in your 30s.
If you’re addicted to Facebook and/or texting, you’re under 25.
In fact, as soon as my daughter and her friend get in my car each day after school, they check their messages and begin texting. In a moment of revelation one day, I asked the friend, “Are you texting Kristin?” She grinned and nodded.
If I didn’t rank so low on their list, I might think they were secretly discussing me.
Kids aren’t the only ones texting friends in the same room; some parents occasionally text their kids when they’re at home.
While that might seem odd, think of texting as leaving a note in a lunch box, which I’ll bet you’ve done.
You can text your child a family joke, ask if he’s OK or send a caring message: “praying for you.”
Of course, texting can’t replace face-to-face communication, but you can make an appointment for a deeper discussion later. In the meantime, you’ve touched base with each other in a way teenagers enjoy.
Any activity or gizmo that dominates so much time in our lives is bound to have spiritual implications. Group Magazine offers great questions to ask your teen: “Does technology simplify or complicate your life? Do you like always being reachable? Why or not? How open are your communication lines with God?”
That last question hit home with me. I wondered how open my communication lines are with God. Am I just as accessible to God, or does he wait on the sidelines of my life for me to get back with him?
For instance, I’ve noticed that whether teens are engaged in birthday parties, movies or ball games, when they receive a message, they discreetly check it right away. They are always accessible.
Like them, I hope that when I sense a “God moment” I stop in my tracks to check in with prayer.
Because after all, God is not limited to influencing me through long periods Bible reading and prayer or sermons. He also gives me important warnings, encourages me to help others and inspires timely ideas for newspaper columns!
May we be as attentive to his voice as we are to our cell phones and email, and as quick to respond to God as Samuel was:
“The LORD came and stood there, calling as at the other times, ‘Samuel! Samuel!’ Then Samuel said, ‘Speak, for your servant is listening’” (1 Samuel 3:10).
When was the last time God got your attention in the middle of an impossibly busy moment?
Is your prayer life a balance of speaking and listening or mainly speaking?
John 10:12: “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”
Everyone loves a note in the lunch box--don’t miss God’s little messages to you throughout your day!
If you rely on telephones, you’re probably reading this through bifocals.
If you prefer email and instant messages, you may be growing a wrinkle at this very moment because you’re in your 30s.
If you’re addicted to Facebook and/or texting, you’re under 25.
In fact, as soon as my daughter and her friend get in my car each day after school, they check their messages and begin texting. In a moment of revelation one day, I asked the friend, “Are you texting Kristin?” She grinned and nodded.
If I didn’t rank so low on their list, I might think they were secretly discussing me.
Kids aren’t the only ones texting friends in the same room; some parents occasionally text their kids when they’re at home.
While that might seem odd, think of texting as leaving a note in a lunch box, which I’ll bet you’ve done.
You can text your child a family joke, ask if he’s OK or send a caring message: “praying for you.”
Of course, texting can’t replace face-to-face communication, but you can make an appointment for a deeper discussion later. In the meantime, you’ve touched base with each other in a way teenagers enjoy.
Any activity or gizmo that dominates so much time in our lives is bound to have spiritual implications. Group Magazine offers great questions to ask your teen: “Does technology simplify or complicate your life? Do you like always being reachable? Why or not? How open are your communication lines with God?”
That last question hit home with me. I wondered how open my communication lines are with God. Am I just as accessible to God, or does he wait on the sidelines of my life for me to get back with him?
For instance, I’ve noticed that whether teens are engaged in birthday parties, movies or ball games, when they receive a message, they discreetly check it right away. They are always accessible.
Like them, I hope that when I sense a “God moment” I stop in my tracks to check in with prayer.
Because after all, God is not limited to influencing me through long periods Bible reading and prayer or sermons. He also gives me important warnings, encourages me to help others and inspires timely ideas for newspaper columns!
May we be as attentive to his voice as we are to our cell phones and email, and as quick to respond to God as Samuel was:
“The LORD came and stood there, calling as at the other times, ‘Samuel! Samuel!’ Then Samuel said, ‘Speak, for your servant is listening’” (1 Samuel 3:10).
When was the last time God got your attention in the middle of an impossibly busy moment?
Is your prayer life a balance of speaking and listening or mainly speaking?
John 10:12: “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”
Everyone loves a note in the lunch box--don’t miss God’s little messages to you throughout your day!
Saturday, February 14, 2009
A Valentine Letter to Herself
COLUMN: A Valentine letter to herself
By Linda Crow • features@muncie.gannett.com • February 14, 2009
•
On Feb. 14, 1984, I was 21 and preparing to go on a Valentine's Day date. If I could speak to myself back then, here's what I'd say:
Dear Linda,
This is from the body formerly known as "you."
You're lingering at the mirror, turning this way and that. I wish you didn't care so much about imperfections, because you're more than the sum of body parts and clear skin. Significance comes from being God's child, not from a young man's opinion of you. So just step away from the mirror!
Let's talk about romance. Your date tonight is going to break your heart soon. Eventually the pieces get put back together, and you'll marry him next year, but the lesson of the breakup is important: there's one shining knight on a white horse who'll never fail you, and his name is Jesus. No human deserves Jesus' place in your heart. God intended your husband to be a good man, not a "god-man."
Your marriage is intact in 2009, but it's not because you've been great spouses. It's because you didn't leave God at the altar with the flowers. He has been your marriage's saving grace time and again. If God hadn't been your beacon in the fog all these years, you would have run your ship into rocks and squalls that would've made you a divorce statistic.
Good news! Over time, your husband finally learns to pick up his towels! Bad news: just this week he left dog biscuits in his pockets that went unnoticed until you removed the wet, gooey laundry.
But it turns out you made the right decision in marrying him. No one is perfect, and with time, you become aware that you prefer his faults over anyone else's. Plus, he brings you coffee every morning and occasionally bathes your little dog.
(2 of 2)
At 21, you don't know that real love entails a series of offenses and pardons. You'll bring out the best and worst in each other, and often you'll need 1 Peter 4:8 to help you through: "Love covers a multitude of sins."
Romance is wonderful, but a man who submits himself to Christ is even better because he answers to a higher authority and grows continually in learning to love. How could anyone ask for more?
My best advice to you is that when your hearts wander from your beacon and away from each other, remember to "return to your God. Hold fast to love and mercy, to righteousness and justice, and wait expectantly for your God continually" (Hosea 12:6). A favorite song says, "It takes a little time, sometimes, to turn the Titanic around, but baby, we're not going down." With God's help, you'll survive the storms.
Valentine's cards, roses and blushing cheeks may all lose luster, but living under the canopy of God's protection and grace allows love to endure and flourish for many years.
Now go have fun, you wrinkle-free young thing. Your future coffee-bringer awaits you!
By Linda Crow • features@muncie.gannett.com • February 14, 2009
•
On Feb. 14, 1984, I was 21 and preparing to go on a Valentine's Day date. If I could speak to myself back then, here's what I'd say:
Dear Linda,
This is from the body formerly known as "you."
You're lingering at the mirror, turning this way and that. I wish you didn't care so much about imperfections, because you're more than the sum of body parts and clear skin. Significance comes from being God's child, not from a young man's opinion of you. So just step away from the mirror!
Let's talk about romance. Your date tonight is going to break your heart soon. Eventually the pieces get put back together, and you'll marry him next year, but the lesson of the breakup is important: there's one shining knight on a white horse who'll never fail you, and his name is Jesus. No human deserves Jesus' place in your heart. God intended your husband to be a good man, not a "god-man."
Your marriage is intact in 2009, but it's not because you've been great spouses. It's because you didn't leave God at the altar with the flowers. He has been your marriage's saving grace time and again. If God hadn't been your beacon in the fog all these years, you would have run your ship into rocks and squalls that would've made you a divorce statistic.
Good news! Over time, your husband finally learns to pick up his towels! Bad news: just this week he left dog biscuits in his pockets that went unnoticed until you removed the wet, gooey laundry.
But it turns out you made the right decision in marrying him. No one is perfect, and with time, you become aware that you prefer his faults over anyone else's. Plus, he brings you coffee every morning and occasionally bathes your little dog.
(2 of 2)
At 21, you don't know that real love entails a series of offenses and pardons. You'll bring out the best and worst in each other, and often you'll need 1 Peter 4:8 to help you through: "Love covers a multitude of sins."
Romance is wonderful, but a man who submits himself to Christ is even better because he answers to a higher authority and grows continually in learning to love. How could anyone ask for more?
My best advice to you is that when your hearts wander from your beacon and away from each other, remember to "return to your God. Hold fast to love and mercy, to righteousness and justice, and wait expectantly for your God continually" (Hosea 12:6). A favorite song says, "It takes a little time, sometimes, to turn the Titanic around, but baby, we're not going down." With God's help, you'll survive the storms.
Valentine's cards, roses and blushing cheeks may all lose luster, but living under the canopy of God's protection and grace allows love to endure and flourish for many years.
Now go have fun, you wrinkle-free young thing. Your future coffee-bringer awaits you!
Saturday, January 10, 2009
When Setbacks Come, Don't Let Them Rob You of Your Confidence
Last January, I charged into a "Read-the-Bible-in-a-Year" plan like a souped up race horse breaking onto the track. It wasn't the first time I had tried the goal, but this time, I was determined to complete it.
Imagine how deflated I was to find myself starting again in April. Let's just say that this time I trudged out of the gate like a Belgian draft horse pulling a Levitical plow. It has been slow going, but I keep telling myself, "Slow and steady wins the race," or at least wins a sharp Sunday school lapel pin for managing to "stick to it!"
Why has this reading plan been so difficult? After all, I read a user-friendly version. I grew up hearing Bible stories and memorizing verses. I was a literature major, so I obviously enjoy reading. If you asked what book I'd take to a desert island, I'd reply, "The Bible." And I've received much guidance and comfort throughout my life from this book.
I do what I can to remind myself, placing my Bible on my nightstand, slipping it into my purse to read in waiting rooms, packing it on trips, sticking it in my tote bag, plopping it into my car -- it's always with me. Yet, I often find myself walking by it on the coffee table. Somehow, there's always one more laundry load or phone call or three more hours on the Internet before I can pick it up.
Unfortunately, my reading has been more of an exercise in discipline than an experience in learning and worshiping. And while there's nothing wrong with practicing diligence, my heart has not been fully engaged. It's like I've been reading a textbook account of an event as opposed to reading the personal letter of an eyewitness.
Although I was frustrated last April, I'm glad I didn't quit. Now I'm in the race with two goals: to finish my year-long project and to be transformed, which makes all the difference.
If you've recently set goals, don't be discouraged about false starts and distractions.
Remember how the rebuilding of the Lord's temple was stalled time and again. Zerubbabel, Jerusalem's governor, met lots of opposition as he began the project, but God sent the prophet Zechariah with encouragement: "Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin" (Zechariah 4:10).
When setbacks come, don't let them rob you of your confidence. When you fall, don't berate yourself for having leapt. Remember that failures have potential to make you more dependent on Christ, our ultimate strength and the only real measure of success.
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three teenagers and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
Imagine how deflated I was to find myself starting again in April. Let's just say that this time I trudged out of the gate like a Belgian draft horse pulling a Levitical plow. It has been slow going, but I keep telling myself, "Slow and steady wins the race," or at least wins a sharp Sunday school lapel pin for managing to "stick to it!"
Why has this reading plan been so difficult? After all, I read a user-friendly version. I grew up hearing Bible stories and memorizing verses. I was a literature major, so I obviously enjoy reading. If you asked what book I'd take to a desert island, I'd reply, "The Bible." And I've received much guidance and comfort throughout my life from this book.
I do what I can to remind myself, placing my Bible on my nightstand, slipping it into my purse to read in waiting rooms, packing it on trips, sticking it in my tote bag, plopping it into my car -- it's always with me. Yet, I often find myself walking by it on the coffee table. Somehow, there's always one more laundry load or phone call or three more hours on the Internet before I can pick it up.
Unfortunately, my reading has been more of an exercise in discipline than an experience in learning and worshiping. And while there's nothing wrong with practicing diligence, my heart has not been fully engaged. It's like I've been reading a textbook account of an event as opposed to reading the personal letter of an eyewitness.
Although I was frustrated last April, I'm glad I didn't quit. Now I'm in the race with two goals: to finish my year-long project and to be transformed, which makes all the difference.
If you've recently set goals, don't be discouraged about false starts and distractions.
Remember how the rebuilding of the Lord's temple was stalled time and again. Zerubbabel, Jerusalem's governor, met lots of opposition as he began the project, but God sent the prophet Zechariah with encouragement: "Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin" (Zechariah 4:10).
When setbacks come, don't let them rob you of your confidence. When you fall, don't berate yourself for having leapt. Remember that failures have potential to make you more dependent on Christ, our ultimate strength and the only real measure of success.
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three teenagers and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Perfection is Not the Goal in Family Foundations
Linda Crow: Perfection is Not the Goal in Family Foundations
Recently, I created a gingerbread church from scratch, with stained-glass candy windows and a roof of candy shingles.
Since this was my first attempt, I gathered tips from experienced bakers and researched blueprints in order to prevent catastrophes. Even so, when I assembled the sections, I found odd structural problems.
None of the research advised that when your cookie sheet goes "boing" in the oven, your walls might warp, turning your creation into a wonky funhouse instead of a sweet fairy tale cottage.
I added candy to detract but only felt dissatisfied. I considered placing a gift-laden sleigh on the bowed roof to imply the cause of sinking, but I knew that camouflaging the flaws compromised the integrity of basic gingerbread principles. (I'm serious about this stuff!)
So, I heated a knife in a candle flame and painstakingly cut through the thick royal icing, removing one section at a time to begin again.
After reassembling it with truly flat pieces, I added ribbon candy, peppermints, gumdrops and dripping icicles, which I then enjoyed with a clear conscience -- no artful deceptions on my church!
My experience made me think about how real homes and churches get off-kilter, literally and figuratively, when they're built on shifting ground or with compromises in integrity.
Sometimes, couples try to candy-coat flawed relationships by buying more stuff, as if to say, "How could our marriage be bad? We have worked together to buy a great house, take tropical vacations, fill a four-car garage and enjoy lavish Christmases."
But if there are foundational flaws, the sugar frosting belies the funhouse incongruity in their hearts.
My parents, celebrating 66 years of marriage on Dec. 14, built my childhood home on a foundation of faith in Christ, and my brothers and I enjoyed the sweetness of a loving home as a result.
There weren't a lot of Dr. Phils or premarital counselors in 1942, and I'm sure there were bumps and cracks along the way, but they have always painstakingly sacrificed whatever it took to stay true to their vows and to God, their foundation.
No family is perfect, and I've learned through gingerbread baking that perfection is not the goal. I now embrace small glitches that prove my gingerbread wasn't stamped out in a factory but rolled out by my hands.
However, I'm grateful to know that when my marriage or my individual life shows signs of cracking or warping, I can bring the pieces to God, who straightens crooked hearts and rights wrong thinking.
And that is the good news of this season -- through the events of the first Christmas, God provided a way to re-build, restore and renew our relationship with Him and with each other. Those are indeed good tidings of great comfort and great joy.
Merry Christmas, and happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.
Check out Linda Crow's blog, www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com, to see pictures of her gingerbread house.
See yesterday's post for pics of this house.
Recently, I created a gingerbread church from scratch, with stained-glass candy windows and a roof of candy shingles.
Since this was my first attempt, I gathered tips from experienced bakers and researched blueprints in order to prevent catastrophes. Even so, when I assembled the sections, I found odd structural problems.
None of the research advised that when your cookie sheet goes "boing" in the oven, your walls might warp, turning your creation into a wonky funhouse instead of a sweet fairy tale cottage.
I added candy to detract but only felt dissatisfied. I considered placing a gift-laden sleigh on the bowed roof to imply the cause of sinking, but I knew that camouflaging the flaws compromised the integrity of basic gingerbread principles. (I'm serious about this stuff!)
So, I heated a knife in a candle flame and painstakingly cut through the thick royal icing, removing one section at a time to begin again.
After reassembling it with truly flat pieces, I added ribbon candy, peppermints, gumdrops and dripping icicles, which I then enjoyed with a clear conscience -- no artful deceptions on my church!
My experience made me think about how real homes and churches get off-kilter, literally and figuratively, when they're built on shifting ground or with compromises in integrity.
Sometimes, couples try to candy-coat flawed relationships by buying more stuff, as if to say, "How could our marriage be bad? We have worked together to buy a great house, take tropical vacations, fill a four-car garage and enjoy lavish Christmases."
But if there are foundational flaws, the sugar frosting belies the funhouse incongruity in their hearts.
My parents, celebrating 66 years of marriage on Dec. 14, built my childhood home on a foundation of faith in Christ, and my brothers and I enjoyed the sweetness of a loving home as a result.
There weren't a lot of Dr. Phils or premarital counselors in 1942, and I'm sure there were bumps and cracks along the way, but they have always painstakingly sacrificed whatever it took to stay true to their vows and to God, their foundation.
No family is perfect, and I've learned through gingerbread baking that perfection is not the goal. I now embrace small glitches that prove my gingerbread wasn't stamped out in a factory but rolled out by my hands.
However, I'm grateful to know that when my marriage or my individual life shows signs of cracking or warping, I can bring the pieces to God, who straightens crooked hearts and rights wrong thinking.
And that is the good news of this season -- through the events of the first Christmas, God provided a way to re-build, restore and renew our relationship with Him and with each other. Those are indeed good tidings of great comfort and great joy.
Merry Christmas, and happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.
Check out Linda Crow's blog, www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com, to see pictures of her gingerbread house.
See yesterday's post for pics of this house.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Play with All Your Heart Today
When I was seven, my parents bought a brand new piano for me, before I ever had a lesson. That seems rashly optimistic, but my parents really wanted a piano player, with a fervor usually reserved for prospective doctors and lawyers. I can’t explain their unity and intrepidness in this goal, but when I was born, my father declared, “Now we have our piano player!”
Even though I wasn’t very good, you should’ve heard my folks go on about my playing. No matter how many times I bungled notes, they told me they loved it.
I thought, “What’s wrong with them? Can’t they hear the mistakes? I can’t finish a song without messing up, yet they think I’m headed for the Lawrence Welk Show!”
Now, every morning before school, my 15 year-old plays a collection of popular ballads she has learned from the Internet. As she practices, she tinkers with chords, misses notes, uses the pedals wildly—she’s all over the map, so to speak. Yet her music gives me a warm “Christmasy” feeling, one of peace, contentment and pride.
My joy comes from her expressing her God-given creative spark. I can feel her heart in the ballads. Notice that perfection is not even a remote consideration in my appreciation. I love that girl, and her music moves my heart.
When I was the young pianist, I couldn’t get past the mistakes, but my parents heard music above the flaws. Now I do the same thing with my daughter.
We created beings know our frailties all too well. We regularly bungle the gifts our Father has given us. Sometimes we start and don’t finish; sometimes we get a little crazy and miss the mark.
For instance, you may feel that you have not excelled at parenting lately. You may feel that your house is a mess, that you are scattered between home, church and work. You may have lost your patience with a family member in spite of your sincere desire to love him.
You only notice your flaws, while your Father who loves you sees your efforts and hears the music of your life above your clinker notes.
Missing the mark doesn’t surprise Him. Perfection isn’t even a remote consideration in his love for you. He delights in you even now as you sit soaking up these words.
Whatever you do today, “play” with all your heart for the One whose ear is inclined to you 24 hours a day. Don't let inner accusations and missteps drag you down. Your soul longs to express itself to its Creator, and He longs to hear music that is uniquely yours!
Even though I wasn’t very good, you should’ve heard my folks go on about my playing. No matter how many times I bungled notes, they told me they loved it.
I thought, “What’s wrong with them? Can’t they hear the mistakes? I can’t finish a song without messing up, yet they think I’m headed for the Lawrence Welk Show!”
Now, every morning before school, my 15 year-old plays a collection of popular ballads she has learned from the Internet. As she practices, she tinkers with chords, misses notes, uses the pedals wildly—she’s all over the map, so to speak. Yet her music gives me a warm “Christmasy” feeling, one of peace, contentment and pride.
My joy comes from her expressing her God-given creative spark. I can feel her heart in the ballads. Notice that perfection is not even a remote consideration in my appreciation. I love that girl, and her music moves my heart.
When I was the young pianist, I couldn’t get past the mistakes, but my parents heard music above the flaws. Now I do the same thing with my daughter.
We created beings know our frailties all too well. We regularly bungle the gifts our Father has given us. Sometimes we start and don’t finish; sometimes we get a little crazy and miss the mark.
For instance, you may feel that you have not excelled at parenting lately. You may feel that your house is a mess, that you are scattered between home, church and work. You may have lost your patience with a family member in spite of your sincere desire to love him.
You only notice your flaws, while your Father who loves you sees your efforts and hears the music of your life above your clinker notes.
Missing the mark doesn’t surprise Him. Perfection isn’t even a remote consideration in his love for you. He delights in you even now as you sit soaking up these words.
Whatever you do today, “play” with all your heart for the One whose ear is inclined to you 24 hours a day. Don't let inner accusations and missteps drag you down. Your soul longs to express itself to its Creator, and He longs to hear music that is uniquely yours!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
What a Difference a Year Makes
Oh, how a year can change your perspective.
Last September, we deposited our son, Jordan, in his freshman dorm room.
I was one sad mom.
What’s worse, I think he was unhappier than I was. His expression said, “What am I doing here? I really don’t want to be here. This is a mistake.”
Every mom will understand this: even though a child is old enough to vote, pay taxes and live with a complete stranger in a tiny, musty dorm room, if he’s troubled, your heart is also troubled. After we left, I prayed for him daily.
Throughout the year, Jordan grew to tolerate campus life, and in May, he returned home with a new independence and a boat-load of laundry. We spent a wonderful summer with our son and his laundry, and then before I knew it, it was time to make the second deposit.
Imagine my surprise when I read his first email this year:
Probably one of the best weekends ever. We set up a slip-n-slide, and at first, it was us and another guy, and it was starting to get lame even though it was fun. Then groups of people started showing up, and eventually, we had over 50 people slipping and sliding. We also had at least another 30 people actually sitting and watching, like it was a performance. We were kind of dubbed the most welcoming room and the room with the best chemistry between the two roommates. We will probably be hosting a lot of movie nights. Classes are okay so far.
I’d say one year made a big difference, wouldn’t you? I think my prayers for him did, too.
We all have moments when we think, “How did I get here? I don’t want to be here!” Sometimes our discomfort drives us to God, which is ultimately a good thing.
Also, when we’re dreading situations such as job interviews, root canals or resolving soured relationships, it helps to remember that prayer can work out kinks, whether in the circumstance or in us. Rather than merely enduring, we can end up rejoicing, like Jordan.
God loves turning our negative expectations upside down:
Do not remember past events; pay no attention to things of old. Look. I am about to do something new … I will make a way in the wilderness, rivers in the desert (Isaiah 43:18-19).
God cares about what you’re going through. He knows just how to make a way through your personal wilderness, and if he chooses, instead of a river, he can put a slip-n-slide in the middle of your desert.
Whatever your trouble is, pray, and then watch with expectant eyes. He is about to do something new!
.
Last September, we deposited our son, Jordan, in his freshman dorm room.
I was one sad mom.
What’s worse, I think he was unhappier than I was. His expression said, “What am I doing here? I really don’t want to be here. This is a mistake.”
Every mom will understand this: even though a child is old enough to vote, pay taxes and live with a complete stranger in a tiny, musty dorm room, if he’s troubled, your heart is also troubled. After we left, I prayed for him daily.
Throughout the year, Jordan grew to tolerate campus life, and in May, he returned home with a new independence and a boat-load of laundry. We spent a wonderful summer with our son and his laundry, and then before I knew it, it was time to make the second deposit.
Imagine my surprise when I read his first email this year:
Probably one of the best weekends ever. We set up a slip-n-slide, and at first, it was us and another guy, and it was starting to get lame even though it was fun. Then groups of people started showing up, and eventually, we had over 50 people slipping and sliding. We also had at least another 30 people actually sitting and watching, like it was a performance. We were kind of dubbed the most welcoming room and the room with the best chemistry between the two roommates. We will probably be hosting a lot of movie nights. Classes are okay so far.
I’d say one year made a big difference, wouldn’t you? I think my prayers for him did, too.
We all have moments when we think, “How did I get here? I don’t want to be here!” Sometimes our discomfort drives us to God, which is ultimately a good thing.
Also, when we’re dreading situations such as job interviews, root canals or resolving soured relationships, it helps to remember that prayer can work out kinks, whether in the circumstance or in us. Rather than merely enduring, we can end up rejoicing, like Jordan.
God loves turning our negative expectations upside down:
Do not remember past events; pay no attention to things of old. Look. I am about to do something new … I will make a way in the wilderness, rivers in the desert (Isaiah 43:18-19).
God cares about what you’re going through. He knows just how to make a way through your personal wilderness, and if he chooses, instead of a river, he can put a slip-n-slide in the middle of your desert.
Whatever your trouble is, pray, and then watch with expectant eyes. He is about to do something new!
.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Whatever You Do, Go the Extra Mile
Whatever You Do, Go the Extra Mile
Olympian swimmer Dara Torres possesses a stunning physique and fierce athleticism, but what sets her apart from other top athletes is her age, 41.
Torres inspires me because at 45, I started running again, which is neither easy nor graceful. I call what I do "slogging," for "slow jogging," because I'm ridiculously leaden. My allergic post-nasal drip is faster than my gait.
But this morning, I had the best slog of my life.
Mid-route, as I neared two runners, they began hooting, pumping their fists, jumping around and singing the Olympic anthem at the tops of their lungs on a Saturday morning in the middle of a quiet neighborhood street. It was quite a heady experience.
A while after I passed them, I realized I hadn't needed to slow to a walk anytime during my run. In fact, my legs felt solid, my breathing was adequate, my calf didn't cramp, my laces stayed tied. I seemed to be morphing into a real runner.
Before long, I noticed I was about to match my own distance record. Fueled by pride and adrenaline, I decided to keep going, and I went a full extra mile!
I thought about Torres as I ran. She's used to slicing through the water to confidently gaze at her time. I'm used to looking for sprinklers to run through and collapsing in my yard. She has hundreds cheering her on. I have my husband, George, and his friend, ironically named "Victor," encouraging me and annoying the neighbors. Torres has the life of a champion; I have the life of a tryer.
So I wonder: Does Dara truly ever exult in the small things, like going one more lap in the pool or holding her breath a few seconds longer?
Because I sure exulted this morning: "Thank you, God, for this beautiful day! Thank you for legs! For breath! For no hot flashes during this run! Thank you that I can thrill over small things. Thank you for helping me go the extra mile. ..."
And that's when my thoughts changed perspective: "The extra mile! Wasn't that exhilarating? Guess what? You can get that same great feeling again today if you go the extra mile for someone else. Encourage someone the way Victor and George encouraged you; give your all to whatever situation you're in; don't discount small beginnings and rejoice in small victories -- go the extra mile."
1 Peter 4:10-11 says, "Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others ... If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ."
Whatever you do today, go the extra mile. You're golden!
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three teenagers and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
Olympian swimmer Dara Torres possesses a stunning physique and fierce athleticism, but what sets her apart from other top athletes is her age, 41.Torres inspires me because at 45, I started running again, which is neither easy nor graceful. I call what I do "slogging," for "slow jogging," because I'm ridiculously leaden. My allergic post-nasal drip is faster than my gait.
But this morning, I had the best slog of my life.
Mid-route, as I neared two runners, they began hooting, pumping their fists, jumping around and singing the Olympic anthem at the tops of their lungs on a Saturday morning in the middle of a quiet neighborhood street. It was quite a heady experience.
A while after I passed them, I realized I hadn't needed to slow to a walk anytime during my run. In fact, my legs felt solid, my breathing was adequate, my calf didn't cramp, my laces stayed tied. I seemed to be morphing into a real runner.
Before long, I noticed I was about to match my own distance record. Fueled by pride and adrenaline, I decided to keep going, and I went a full extra mile!
I thought about Torres as I ran. She's used to slicing through the water to confidently gaze at her time. I'm used to looking for sprinklers to run through and collapsing in my yard. She has hundreds cheering her on. I have my husband, George, and his friend, ironically named "Victor," encouraging me and annoying the neighbors. Torres has the life of a champion; I have the life of a tryer.
So I wonder: Does Dara truly ever exult in the small things, like going one more lap in the pool or holding her breath a few seconds longer?
Because I sure exulted this morning: "Thank you, God, for this beautiful day! Thank you for legs! For breath! For no hot flashes during this run! Thank you that I can thrill over small things. Thank you for helping me go the extra mile. ..."
And that's when my thoughts changed perspective: "The extra mile! Wasn't that exhilarating? Guess what? You can get that same great feeling again today if you go the extra mile for someone else. Encourage someone the way Victor and George encouraged you; give your all to whatever situation you're in; don't discount small beginnings and rejoice in small victories -- go the extra mile."
1 Peter 4:10-11 says, "Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others ... If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ."
Whatever you do today, go the extra mile. You're golden!
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three teenagers and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
God is the Author of Life
It all started with reading Tolstoy's The Death of Ivan Ilych, followed by a close friend's serious cancer diagnosis. Then, there was the death of a former high school classmate.
Death has been on my mind a lot lately.
Actually, I think about dying at some point every day, not in a morbid way, but in an "Are you ready? Is there unfinished business? How do you want to be remembered?" way, which is constructive, to a point.
What's not constructive is allowing myself to be tortured by the fear of leaving my children and husband. As a believer, I must draw the line of rumination there. I can't give in to hand-wringing.
Henri Nouwen spoke about the unique relationship of a trapeze team. When the flyer lets go of his bar and hangs in mid-air for a split second, he has no security. He cannot see his catcher nor control the catcher's speed or method. But at just the right moment, the flyer's "savior" arrives and whisks him to the base.
Most of us believe death will be like that frightening moment of suspension. But 2 Corinthians 5:8 tells us, “We should be cheerful, because we would rather leave these bodies and be at home with the Lord.”
In other words, we will not be left hanging for one moment because to let go here makes us present there.
*Sometimes when I sit down to write, I face the blank screen and feel uncertain and anxious—the term is “writer’s block.” After this sad, question-filled week, I’m comforted by the thought that although life is uncertain, it is not unwritten. That is to say, God is the author of life, and he has never suffered writer’s block. He is not uneasy about the future at all.
*That’s why Christians shouldn’t despair. Death is simply another part of each of our stories.
Paul says, "When you sow a seed, it must die in the ground before it can live and grow. And when you sow it, it does not have the same body it will have later. What you sow is only a bare seed, maybe wheat or something else. But God gives it a body that he has planned for it" (Corinthians 15:35-38).
The key phrase is: "that he has planned for it." We who trust in Christ can know that as the story of our life unfolds, we are in His sight and in His thoughts, safe in the strong hands of our savior and "catcher" who has planned for us to be with Him forever. Nothing can pry us from his loving grip.
________________________________________
*section that was edited/partly omitted that I re-inserted here.
Death has been on my mind a lot lately.
Actually, I think about dying at some point every day, not in a morbid way, but in an "Are you ready? Is there unfinished business? How do you want to be remembered?" way, which is constructive, to a point.
What's not constructive is allowing myself to be tortured by the fear of leaving my children and husband. As a believer, I must draw the line of rumination there. I can't give in to hand-wringing.
Henri Nouwen spoke about the unique relationship of a trapeze team. When the flyer lets go of his bar and hangs in mid-air for a split second, he has no security. He cannot see his catcher nor control the catcher's speed or method. But at just the right moment, the flyer's "savior" arrives and whisks him to the base.
Most of us believe death will be like that frightening moment of suspension. But 2 Corinthians 5:8 tells us, “We should be cheerful, because we would rather leave these bodies and be at home with the Lord.”
In other words, we will not be left hanging for one moment because to let go here makes us present there.
*Sometimes when I sit down to write, I face the blank screen and feel uncertain and anxious—the term is “writer’s block.” After this sad, question-filled week, I’m comforted by the thought that although life is uncertain, it is not unwritten. That is to say, God is the author of life, and he has never suffered writer’s block. He is not uneasy about the future at all.
*That’s why Christians shouldn’t despair. Death is simply another part of each of our stories.
Paul says, "When you sow a seed, it must die in the ground before it can live and grow. And when you sow it, it does not have the same body it will have later. What you sow is only a bare seed, maybe wheat or something else. But God gives it a body that he has planned for it" (Corinthians 15:35-38).
The key phrase is: "that he has planned for it." We who trust in Christ can know that as the story of our life unfolds, we are in His sight and in His thoughts, safe in the strong hands of our savior and "catcher" who has planned for us to be with Him forever. Nothing can pry us from his loving grip.
________________________________________
*section that was edited/partly omitted that I re-inserted here.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
I Had a Mother Who Read to Me (Mother's Day 2008)
Here is my mom with me probably in 1963. On the right is my mom winking because she is feisty like that. Just yesterday, she told me she saw Tina Turner, who is 68, on Oprah. She said "That Tina said she loves being 68. She has learned a lot and loves her life and doesn't care that much what she looks like. I say, 'Wait 'til you get some 80 on ya, Tina; then let's see what you say!'" And we both cracked up. "Get some 80 on ya?" where did she get that? My mom is funny and has great cheekbones. I did not inherit them. Below is the newspaper column in the Muncie Star Press honoring her.
COLUMN: Thanks, Mom, for Opening my Mind, Heart
By LINDA CROW • May 10, 2008
When I was little, I often clutched books as well as dolls close to me at bedtime, cherishing them equally. In fact, some of my earliest, happiest memories are of my mother reading to me. Although it has been 40 years since I've held my childhood books in my hands, I can still remember many illustrations and recall my mother's voice ringing out the phrases of my beloved stories.
My favorite was about three little siblings who built a snowman but forgot about him after they went inside for the evening. The deserted snowman gazed longingly into the picture window as the children decorated their Christmas tree. It's hard to overstate how the snowman's loneliness broke my heart; in fact, all of the compassion I've had as an adult for others or animals has never surpassed the intensity of sympathy I had for that storybook snowman!
Now I realize that I was so moved because my mother read with such enthusiasm and expression that she completely drew me into the story.
One day, I asked Mother whether she remembered this story, and she said yes, although she couldn't remember the title. Neither could I, so I searched the Internet with only one sentence and one scene committed to memory.
Guess what? I found it: The Snowman's Christmas Present, by Irma Wilde.
A week later, I opened the book for Mother in my home and read the words that evoked memories of being smaller, sitting securely on her lap with her arms around me, smelling a hint of Dove soap and brushing against her cotton sleeves and gingham skirt: "This is the story that the Snowman told to the Big Red Sun at sunset on Christmas Day." We turned to the page where the snowman remained outside, and I shared with her how that scene affected me, how her reading formed a life-long love of reading in me.
Mothers do so many big and small things for their children, imparting important lessons, meeting their children's every physical, spiritual and emotional need as best they can. But sometimes, in the most quiet, unassuming, unplanned ways mothers touch their children's souls for a lifetime without realizing it. That's what my mother's reading did for me.
I am 45; my mother is now 82. I write this thank you to her today as a way to "rise up and call her blessed" (Proverbs 31:28) for investing her time and herself in me for so many years. And although my mother was -- and is -- absolutely wonderful in every way, I would like to offer this poem by Strickland Gillilan as a tribute to the precious gift she gave me when she lifted me onto her lap and opened not just a book, but also my mind and my heart. Thank you, Mom, ... I love you.
The Reading Mother
I had a mother who read me things
That wholesome life to a child's heart brings-
Stories that stir with an upward touch.
Oh, that every Mother were such!
You may have tangible wealth untold,
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be;
I had a mother who read to me.
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three teenagers and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
God of the Infinite Chances
Just as if I were starring in my own classic sitcom, I managed to back into my co-worker’s car in the parking lot last week. My gas tank cover hooked her fender, leaving her car with scratches and a nickel-sized hole and my gas tank cover twisted up like a soda can tab.
The only thing worse than the initial impact of the fender bender was the awkward moment of returning to the building to inform my co-worker, “I have some very bad news about your vehicle.”
And the consequences just kept rolling in. I had to tell my husband, face my co-workers and re-live the incident every time I saw our vehicles.
Although I’ve always been a pretty conservative, prudent driver (read: grandma in a Camaro), I’m even more aware now that I’ve blown my one “get out of jail free” card--a first-time forgiveness insurance policy protecting me from a premium increase--and cannot afford another wreck. So every time I start my car I tell myself, “Whatever you do, don’t mess up.” That’s a lot of pressure!
Every unfortunate decision or sin has consequences. Not only should we confess to our Father, but we may also have to confess to the person we’ve wronged or to a third party who can hold us accountable in the future. Confession is humbling, but it’s the only way to start reparations.
My stomach knots up whenever I see my mutilated car and know that I alone am to blame. Likewise, just when we’re beginning to find peace in the process of confession and forgiveness, remorse can sucker punch us with shame. When overwhelming regret condemns us again and again, we should remind ourselves that what’s past is past and that we’ve learned where our weakness lies, where our strength lies (in Him), and how to avoid that kind of mess in the future.
Sometimes long after the event passes, we harbor fear that we’ll trip up again. We certainly don’t want to re-live the pain--or worse--wear out God’s forgiveness policy. But God does not want us to live in constant fear of anything, including sin.
Insurance companies may not forgive us “70 x 7” because they’re not all that into holiness, grace, mercy, etc.--but God is.
It is often said that “God is the God of the second chance.” Isn’t it wonderful to know that He also has a second, third, 43rd and 1000th-time forgiveness policy?
I’m so glad that “Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning” (Lamentations 3:22-23).
Knowing how relentlessly forgiving our Father is should make us want to live obediently inside the circle of His best will for us every minute of every day. But it’s comforting to know that when we do mangle our lives, He doesn’t demand that we pay a perpetual debt. Jesus paid that price once for all, and the same mercies that are brand new every morning also endure forever.
We bring our ugly mistakes to God, and He turns our wreckage into something beautiful. It’s a crazy policy when you think about it, but that’s our Father: the extravagant giver of unmerited favor, the God of infinite chances to those who know and love Him.
The only thing worse than the initial impact of the fender bender was the awkward moment of returning to the building to inform my co-worker, “I have some very bad news about your vehicle.”
And the consequences just kept rolling in. I had to tell my husband, face my co-workers and re-live the incident every time I saw our vehicles.
Although I’ve always been a pretty conservative, prudent driver (read: grandma in a Camaro), I’m even more aware now that I’ve blown my one “get out of jail free” card--a first-time forgiveness insurance policy protecting me from a premium increase--and cannot afford another wreck. So every time I start my car I tell myself, “Whatever you do, don’t mess up.” That’s a lot of pressure!
Every unfortunate decision or sin has consequences. Not only should we confess to our Father, but we may also have to confess to the person we’ve wronged or to a third party who can hold us accountable in the future. Confession is humbling, but it’s the only way to start reparations.
My stomach knots up whenever I see my mutilated car and know that I alone am to blame. Likewise, just when we’re beginning to find peace in the process of confession and forgiveness, remorse can sucker punch us with shame. When overwhelming regret condemns us again and again, we should remind ourselves that what’s past is past and that we’ve learned where our weakness lies, where our strength lies (in Him), and how to avoid that kind of mess in the future.
Sometimes long after the event passes, we harbor fear that we’ll trip up again. We certainly don’t want to re-live the pain--or worse--wear out God’s forgiveness policy. But God does not want us to live in constant fear of anything, including sin.
Insurance companies may not forgive us “70 x 7” because they’re not all that into holiness, grace, mercy, etc.--but God is.
It is often said that “God is the God of the second chance.” Isn’t it wonderful to know that He also has a second, third, 43rd and 1000th-time forgiveness policy?
I’m so glad that “Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning” (Lamentations 3:22-23).
Knowing how relentlessly forgiving our Father is should make us want to live obediently inside the circle of His best will for us every minute of every day. But it’s comforting to know that when we do mangle our lives, He doesn’t demand that we pay a perpetual debt. Jesus paid that price once for all, and the same mercies that are brand new every morning also endure forever.
We bring our ugly mistakes to God, and He turns our wreckage into something beautiful. It’s a crazy policy when you think about it, but that’s our Father: the extravagant giver of unmerited favor, the God of infinite chances to those who know and love Him.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Feeling Lost? Here's a Message In A Bottle
You usually get a 2nd Cup of silly here, but I do enjoy writing with a little more depth once in a while. Regarding my columns, I try to speak to people who aren't yet committed to following Christ and then with the next column, to those who are committed. However, all of my columns appear on the religion page, and to be honest, I don't think many people go there on purpose. Unless they're my parents. And sometimes not even them! ["Mom, did you know my column is in today's paper? No? Well, it is."] Also, I did not title this piece; the editors did.
Feeling Lost? Here's a Message in a Bottle
For the first time since the General Hospital Luke and Laura phenomenon of my senior year in high school, I'm hooked on a television series.
Lost is ostensibly about the survivors of an airplane crash on an uncharted Pacific island, but the reason the show is wildly popular is that every week, the double meaning of the title becomes more and more enthralling.
Each Lost character has his own backstory that brought him aboard Oceanic flight 815, allowing writers to address themes such as the existence of God, fate vs. destiny, good vs. evil, dualism within characters, relationship dysfunction -- particularly between fathers and sons, faith vs. science and redemption.
Plus it's just so ingeniously written that it's completely captivating.
So, I've been thinking about being lost a lot lately, specifically, that while a person can be physically disoriented, he can also be confused in his spirit, his heart or identity.
Maybe you can relate to these "lost" moments from my life:
When I was a child, I skipped up to my father in a department store and took his hand, only to look up and see that I had grabbed a stranger's hand instead. I was so panicked I couldn't speak and ran away. I wasn't running toward anything because I wasn't thinking at all; I could only run away.
I'll never forget the first time I was driving when suddenly I whispered, "Where am I?"
Once I lost my toddler daughter only to find her curled up behind a toilet in our half bath, smiling mischievously at me.
I remember when my husband took my little dog for a short car trip without my knowledge. When I couldn't find her, I was heart-sick, believing her to be lost.
I also remember how lost I felt when my college sweetheart broke up with me as I looked down the road at the rest of my life without him.
And then there was the moment as a young adult that I realized that I was living in a state of lostness, desiring a meaningful life and unconditional love but feeling depressed instead. Again, I reached out for my Father's hand. This time, I recognized the sure grip of a faithful God. No more confusion or running -- His hand was the right thing to reach for.
Eugene Peterson, who wrote The Message, said that we're all stuck on a personal "I-land," where we are so lost that we don't know who we are, who God is or why we're here. In this sense, we are born lost. We're merely existing, just surviving. The message in a bottle: "I have made a way to rescue you from your I-land!" floats by everyone on his I-land, but only a few realize the need to be rescued or believe that it's possible.
If you're confused, afraid, lonely, hopeless, or empty, open the message in the bottle with your name on it and know that help is on the way. Your rescuer is closer than your next heartbeat if you'll just reach out. For the rest of your life, you'll feel your Father's presence, and nothing will be able tear you away from His firm grip -- you'll never be lost again.
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three teenagers and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
Feeling Lost? Here's a Message in a Bottle
For the first time since the General Hospital Luke and Laura phenomenon of my senior year in high school, I'm hooked on a television series.
Lost is ostensibly about the survivors of an airplane crash on an uncharted Pacific island, but the reason the show is wildly popular is that every week, the double meaning of the title becomes more and more enthralling.
Each Lost character has his own backstory that brought him aboard Oceanic flight 815, allowing writers to address themes such as the existence of God, fate vs. destiny, good vs. evil, dualism within characters, relationship dysfunction -- particularly between fathers and sons, faith vs. science and redemption.
Plus it's just so ingeniously written that it's completely captivating.
So, I've been thinking about being lost a lot lately, specifically, that while a person can be physically disoriented, he can also be confused in his spirit, his heart or identity.
Maybe you can relate to these "lost" moments from my life:
When I was a child, I skipped up to my father in a department store and took his hand, only to look up and see that I had grabbed a stranger's hand instead. I was so panicked I couldn't speak and ran away. I wasn't running toward anything because I wasn't thinking at all; I could only run away.
I'll never forget the first time I was driving when suddenly I whispered, "Where am I?"
Once I lost my toddler daughter only to find her curled up behind a toilet in our half bath, smiling mischievously at me.
I remember when my husband took my little dog for a short car trip without my knowledge. When I couldn't find her, I was heart-sick, believing her to be lost.
I also remember how lost I felt when my college sweetheart broke up with me as I looked down the road at the rest of my life without him.
And then there was the moment as a young adult that I realized that I was living in a state of lostness, desiring a meaningful life and unconditional love but feeling depressed instead. Again, I reached out for my Father's hand. This time, I recognized the sure grip of a faithful God. No more confusion or running -- His hand was the right thing to reach for.
Eugene Peterson, who wrote The Message, said that we're all stuck on a personal "I-land," where we are so lost that we don't know who we are, who God is or why we're here. In this sense, we are born lost. We're merely existing, just surviving. The message in a bottle: "I have made a way to rescue you from your I-land!" floats by everyone on his I-land, but only a few realize the need to be rescued or believe that it's possible.
If you're confused, afraid, lonely, hopeless, or empty, open the message in the bottle with your name on it and know that help is on the way. Your rescuer is closer than your next heartbeat if you'll just reach out. For the rest of your life, you'll feel your Father's presence, and nothing will be able tear you away from His firm grip -- you'll never be lost again.
Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three teenagers and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
What Not to Wear--Spiritual Edition
What Not to Wear, Spiritual Edition
On TLC’s fashion makeover show What Not to Wear, a makeover subject is introduced to outfits put together according to new rules designed especially for her by the show’s hosts. If the subject stays within the guidelines and avoids old habits and haunts when she shops in New York City, she’ll do well at her “big reveal,” where the hosts will lavish praise on her for staying true to their directives even though she may have struggled.
When we’re sensitive to the Spirit of God, we too have moments of revelation, seeing ourselves in the 360* mirror of truth, and it’s not pretty.
The Spirit then shows us a new way of living, one that best fits why our creator made us in the first place. If we focus on him and avoid old habits and haunts, we’ll do well in the “big city,” and in the end, God will lavish on us the words we long to hear: “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
In Ephesians 6:14-18, we find familiar “rules” for dressing for spiritual success.
Let the truth be like a belt around your waist, and let God's justice protect you like armor. Your desire to tell the good news about peace should be like shoes on your feet. Let your faith be like a shield, and you will be able to stop all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Let God's saving power be like a helmet, and for a sword use God's message that comes from the Spirit.
But we’ve read these guidelines so many times it’s easy to blow across them. So just for fun, let’s flip the passage and look at What Not to Wear, Spiritual Edition.
*Don’t get bound up in hypocrisy and deceitfulness, which are ugly and hurtful. Be straightforward and virtuous from the smallest button to the largest overcoat.
*Don’t slip your feet into grungy shoes that bring nothing but trouble to others— be the one who walks into a room with good news, comfort, peace, compassion and hope. Wear shoes suitable for moving swiftly into spiritual battle for yourself or on behalf of others. Who says sensible shoes can’t be beautiful?
*Don’t wear a flimsy smock of faith. Go for quality and durability. You’ll be glad when you face harsh weather and adversaries.
*Your hat is a banner over you, creating first impressions. Who is your designer? Know your Savior and King above all!
*Your most important accessory? Not your denomination. Not your worship music. Not your financial giving statement. It’s the Word of God. Outside your body, strictly speaking, it’s an accessory, but meditate on it until it’s deep in your heart and first in your thoughts.
*Don’t be lazy about your spiritual attire, returning to old habits and haunts. Stay au current. Notice what God is up to in the world and join him. Be in constant communication with your Life Coach.
It’s OK to look forward to the final “Big Reveal,” but until then, get your spiritual fashion rules down, express your creativity and uniqueness, work with passion, and have loads of fun in the big city!
On TLC’s fashion makeover show What Not to Wear, a makeover subject is introduced to outfits put together according to new rules designed especially for her by the show’s hosts. If the subject stays within the guidelines and avoids old habits and haunts when she shops in New York City, she’ll do well at her “big reveal,” where the hosts will lavish praise on her for staying true to their directives even though she may have struggled.
When we’re sensitive to the Spirit of God, we too have moments of revelation, seeing ourselves in the 360* mirror of truth, and it’s not pretty.
The Spirit then shows us a new way of living, one that best fits why our creator made us in the first place. If we focus on him and avoid old habits and haunts, we’ll do well in the “big city,” and in the end, God will lavish on us the words we long to hear: “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
In Ephesians 6:14-18, we find familiar “rules” for dressing for spiritual success.
Let the truth be like a belt around your waist, and let God's justice protect you like armor. Your desire to tell the good news about peace should be like shoes on your feet. Let your faith be like a shield, and you will be able to stop all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Let God's saving power be like a helmet, and for a sword use God's message that comes from the Spirit.
But we’ve read these guidelines so many times it’s easy to blow across them. So just for fun, let’s flip the passage and look at What Not to Wear, Spiritual Edition.
*Don’t get bound up in hypocrisy and deceitfulness, which are ugly and hurtful. Be straightforward and virtuous from the smallest button to the largest overcoat.
*Don’t slip your feet into grungy shoes that bring nothing but trouble to others— be the one who walks into a room with good news, comfort, peace, compassion and hope. Wear shoes suitable for moving swiftly into spiritual battle for yourself or on behalf of others. Who says sensible shoes can’t be beautiful?
*Don’t wear a flimsy smock of faith. Go for quality and durability. You’ll be glad when you face harsh weather and adversaries.
*Your hat is a banner over you, creating first impressions. Who is your designer? Know your Savior and King above all!
*Your most important accessory? Not your denomination. Not your worship music. Not your financial giving statement. It’s the Word of God. Outside your body, strictly speaking, it’s an accessory, but meditate on it until it’s deep in your heart and first in your thoughts.
*Don’t be lazy about your spiritual attire, returning to old habits and haunts. Stay au current. Notice what God is up to in the world and join him. Be in constant communication with your Life Coach.
It’s OK to look forward to the final “Big Reveal,” but until then, get your spiritual fashion rules down, express your creativity and uniqueness, work with passion, and have loads of fun in the big city!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
