Roni, I Need You

She may be only one minute older, the result of being born via C-section, but Veronica is clearly the OLDER sister, at least in her eyes.  And, so far, Colin doesn’t seem to mind (most of the time) as she bosses him around, summons him to do her bidding, and scolds him when she thinks he is misbehaving. 

We were on our annual family retreat early in November, so we were able to closely observe this behavior pattern in our not-quite-two and a half year-old twin grandchildren.

Much of the time they play quite happily in their own area of the room.  Tension ensures, as it does with most siblings, when they both wanted the same book, the same toy, or to sit on Grandpa’s lap at the same time.  Then Roni would come out swinging and Colin would retaliate by biting or a swing of his own.  Roni tends to be a howler; Colin seems to mostly cry when he is actually hurt.  Most of the time, during this long weekend, they were pretty content to be together – no doubt having TWO grandparents to dote on them helped.

Sunday night, however, Colin had a tummy ache.  He crawled up onto an upholstered chair and lay very quietly; face down – unusual behavior for this very active, former-preemie.  Grandma began to rub his back and his tummy, which seemed to help.  All of a sudden, Colin raised his head and croaked, “Roni.”  His sister, beforehand apparently oblivious to his distress, looked up from her play, dropped her toy and came rushing to his side.  “Roni”, he croaked again.  She touched his face, touched his hair, patted his shoulder and his back, while murmuring his name several times.

I watched as his body seemed to relax under her touch - more than it had under mine.  Roni, apparently satisfied that she had worked her tiny magic, returned to her play.  A little while later Colin’s mom picked him up and cradled him like a baby before putting him to bed.

Thankfully, by morning, the distress had passed and Colin was back to his cheerful, exuberant, active self.

That was the morning we had to check out by 10am.  It did not take Bill and me long to pack up our stuff, but it takes awhile to pack up all the stuff that 2-year-old twins, and an 8-year-old, require.  I toasted Ethan one of his favorite bagels, spread it with berry cream cheese, then toasted another for the twins.  I spread the same berry cream cheese lightly on their two halves of the bagel, and cut each half into bite-sized pieces.  I placed the plate on the coffee table within easy reach of their play area, hoping this would keep them busy and out from under foot as Becki packed up.

Colin was totally engrossed in his play, but Roni would pause from time to time to pop another piece of bagel into her mouth.  She must have noticed that while her half was disappearing, Colin’s remained intact.  She picked up a piece of his bagel, whet over to where he was playing, “Colin, open your mouth.” she said in a remarkably gentle voice.

Pausing in his play, Colin looked up, opened his mouth, Roni popped the piece of bagel in and said, “Chew, Colin, chew.”  Which he did!

This continued until all of the bagel was gone.  Then Roni picked up his sippy cup which contained water, took it over to him and held it to his lips, “Drink, Colin, drink.”  Which he did!

Neither child acted as though this was anything out of the ordinary.  Both were happy and content with their roles at that moment. 

As we were driving home, I thought more about this snip of beautiful behavior that I got to witness. 

Children’s behavior is oftimes a reflection of the behavior they see in the adults around them.  Sometimes they are as self-centered as the adults they observe, but sometimes they are as gentle and caring as other adults they observe.

In Romans Paul tells us “Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.”  Christ tells us in several different ways that we are to “give a cup of water to those who thirst, visit those who are in prison (both literally and those who are hurting), feed those who are hungry…” and similar reminders of what it means to “love others as ourselves.”

Obviously Roni has ministered to Colin other times than just while I was observing.  It was a natural action for her and he accepted it as not unusual. 

I pray that my ministering to others will become and be as natural as Roni’s ministering to Colin is.  I pray that I will not hesitate, but stop what I am doing to meet the needs of others, without even taking a second thought.  Amen

Forgive Us Our Debts...

In most churches, on most Sundays we repeat the "Lord's Prayer" together. As I have said before, I suspect that we merely mumble these words because we have said them so often.
 
It is worthwhile, therefore, to occasionally take a closer look at what Jesus told his disciples was to be the pattern for all our prayers.

 "Forgive us our debts...Forgive us our trespasses, forgive us our sins…” Three different ways of saying the same thing (?). Webster’s Dictionary defines debt as “something owed, an obligation”. It defines trespass as “a violation of moral or social ethics : transgression”. Sin is “an offense against religious or moral law” and “an action that is or is felt to be highly reprehensible”. NOT the same thing! Perhaps these three words give us a fuller idea of what God wants us to pray for; the attitude God wants us to have.

God tells us to ask for forgiveness as we forgive others - even when they owe us – owe us something material, a favor, or something less definable like respect. God wants us to ask for forgiveness as we forgive others - even when they have transgressed against us, when they have committed a violation of our moral or social ethics. God wants us to ask for forgiveness as we forgive others - even when they have sinned against us, when they have committed an offense against us, even something highly reprehensible.

Phew!

Now praying this part of the Lord’s Prayer is becoming hard work! I am totally convinced that if we are to live healthy, fulfilled lives, understanding and practicing this attitude and behavior is essential. Let me share a couple of real life examples.

I have a friend who became very despondent because of a relationship gone awry. Therapy, loving friendship from others, medication, nothing seemed to be helping. All of this threatened to push her into deeper depression. Then one day my friend came to the conclusion that she needed to begin by forgiving the offending person. The change was remarkable, over a period of time the depression lifted and my friend went on to grow and mature in ways that have astounded me.

My sister and I grew up in a very dysfunctional home. Both our parents had been abused by one of their parents. Our mother had been sexually abused by her father; our father had been severely emotionally abused by his mother. True to form, both our parents became abusers of us, their children – especially my sister.

My sister and I had great anger at things done and not. Our conversations were often a rehearsing the wrongs done to us and the damage we were having to deal with now as adults and as mothers.

Then I learned more about my parents, as I began to learn about and understand the abuse they had suffered, I began to forgive my parents. Slowly my conversations with my sister were, still rehearsals of the abuse done to us, but now with words of forgiveness. It took/has taken us a long time to forgive the injuries done to us, but as we have practiced forgiveness, healing has come for each of us. Now our phone conversations are filled with more laughter than tears. Now we can look back and see that God was present, even in the bad time, that He has used those damaging times to teach us more of Himself.

I have several friends who, whenever we are together, must rehearse the wrongs done to them by someone else (often another family member, but also often another church member, or a coworker). The litany never seems to change, or if it does, the anger just seems to grow. In several cases I can clearly see that the anger they feel, the anger they seem to hug to themselves, is doing real physical damage.

Wikipedia has this to say, in part: “William DeFoore, an anger-management writer, described anger as a pressure cooker: we can only apply pressure against our anger for a certain amount of time until it explodes. Anger may have physical correlates such as increased heart rate, blood pressure, and levels of adrenaline and nonadrenaline”. I have at least one friend whom I think may die soon because he is so angry at his son.

God says that this does not have to be. Forgiveness is the key, and it is really quite simple. But it takes practice!

I find I must first acknowledge that I am in a non-forgiveness state. Then I must ask God’s help to move me to a state of forgiveness. That is usually a process – it can take a long time, and must be done over and over. One of the final results is being able to pray for the person who has trespassed against me, sinned against me, owes me a debt – I can begin to ask God’s blessing on them – without qualifications.

And I am FILLED WITH JOY! Being free of anger, being forgiven, being in a place where I can move on in my getting to know God FILLS ME WITH JOY!

 Is this a permanent state? No, I am a flawed human being, I have to “Practice Forgiveness” over and over and over and over and…. But so far, the exercise has been worth it every time.

May you too, BE FILLED WITH JOY!

Our God is TOO Small

Recently I finally got around to a project that I have been putting off for a number of years. I borrowed Bill’s external floppy drive and began moving dozens of photographs from “floppy” disks and CDs to my flash drive devoted to pictures. It took me several weeks to accomplish my goal; I could only work on the project for an hour or two, but each day that I had time to devote to the project, I was able to throw out numerous floppys and CDs. ALL of my pictures fit onto one flash drive, which already had other pictures on it. Eventually it was full so other “stuff” that I wanted to save I put on my thumb drive – about 1/3 the size of my flash drive, but with 32 (THIRTY TWO) times as much memory. Bill sometimes uses a SDHC Micro card which is so small I would worry about losing it! But it is VERY transportable. He also uses Sky Drive which stores data that he can access from any of his computers in our wi-fy home – nifty for working on his current book project - which he works on sometimes from his downstairs study, sometimes from our upstairs study, or even on his lap in the living room. He also has an external hard drive which has 1000GB of memory! All of this is not to impress you with how much memory storage capability we have (far less than many other folks, and we won’t even begin to talk about Amazon, Kindle, the IRS etc.). Bill uses a free service with his Kindle – after he writes his sermon, he emails his sermon to Kindle (at Amazon) and they send him back a Kindle-formatted version which he can then use while preaching. The tremendous advantage is that he can adjust the font to what works for his eyes. BUT it is stored there as long as he wishes AND if his Kindle ever gets stolen, lost, destroyed, Amazon will restore ALL his data to his new device. WOW!!! What brains are out there to figure out, develop, devise, etc. all these devices! Think how far we have come when it comes to data storage, data accessibility, thought sharing, picture sharing, experience sharing in OUR liftetime. And what is ahead??? We can’t even imagine, well, we have some ideas but it almost blows our minds! I am QUITE sure that my grandchildren will someday (perhaps sooner than I expect) carry ALL their school books on some sort of reading device. So will backpacks get smaller??? We are in awe of folks like Jeff Brazos, Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerberg, just to name a VERY few. All of these men (and women) are created beings. They, and we, are merely a reflection of the creator being. Far too often, I think, we are guilty of thinking of God in our image – we seem to often make him a reflection of ourselves. The reality is that these minds who have so advanced personal computers, the minds who have unlocked the secrets of our DNA, the minds that are ever pushing the parameters of medicine, and most any other subject you can think of, are just, are merely a shadow of the mind of the Creator. We have been created in HIS image – not the other way around. Some days, perhaps many days, our God is too small. When I use my computer each day, I rarely think about all the people who were involved in its development. Perhaps when I first turn it on each morning, I should pause and think of the One who created the minds who developed my puny little personal computer. Perhaps I should pause then, and throughout the day and worship this awesome God who not only brought all things into being, but invites me to walk with Him each day. amen

He Hears Our Voice

One of the men in our Tuesday Bible study wonders constantly how God can hear our individual prayers when so many of us are praying at the same time. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I remind him that God is GOD and not human and He can hear each of us no matter what the circumstances.



Recently we took our oldest grandson, Ethan, on a trip. When asked what he wanted for his 8th birthday, he recited several things and then paused, “But what I really, really want, Grandma, is to take Amtrak to St. Louis with you and Grandpa and go to that museum again.”

Shortly after his 6th birthday, Bill and I and his parents did this same trip, taking Amtrak from Chicago to St. Louis. We stayed at a hotel within walking distance of the Amtrak station. On our second day there we walked the 15 blocks from the hotel to The City Museum. Ethan had a wonderful day exploring this gigantic playground, made mostly from recycled materials, and meant for children. From Wikipedia, “the museum bills itself as an "eclectic mixture of children's playground, funhouse, surrealistic pavilion, and architectural marvel." Visitors are encouraged to feel, touch, climb on, and play in the various exhibits.” Ethan’s daddy, John, also had a wonderful time crawling around and through and up and down with his son.

And so, during Ethan’s spring break, we picked him up, boarded the Amtrak and rode to St. Louis. Becki and John did not come along because the twins are not yet old enough for this adventure. Ethan’s anticipation was high and was amped even higher when we checked into the same hotel with its pristine swimming pool and hot breakfasts.

The weather was marginal on our first day there so we chose to go to the St. Louis Zoo, also an awesome place, where we could duck in and out of buildings, should it begin to rain.

On our second and final day of our trip, we were ready to go to the museum.

I decided I had better have a little chat with Ethan before we headed out. I explained to him that the last time his daddy had gone with him through most of the areas, crawling after him and ever keeping him in sight, but neither Grandpa nor I were able to do that. Ethan has a hard time understanding that we are just not as young as his parents, but after several questions he accepted that we were not going to go with him through the exhibits.

“We will find a place near each of the places you want to explore, where I will wait for you, I will not move and you will always be able to come back to me.”

He nodded his understanding, but I could tell that he was a bit apprehensive about having to do all his exploring alone.

We headed out to walk the 15 blocks to the museum under threatening skies, but no rain.



About one block from the museum, we began to hear happy kid noises: shouts, calls, laughter, squeals etc. And Ethan began to perk up.

Then we turned the corner and we could see a portion of the outside “Monstro City” and Ethan began to get excited. We watched kids crawling, sliding, climbing everywhere so by the time we got inside the door to buy our tickets, he was eager to get outside and begin his own exploration.

I picked a spot by the giant tree made from nails, bolts, and who knows what other pieces of castoff metal parts that houses one of the first spiral staircases leading up to realms beyond. I would STAY THERE so Ethan could check in regularly.

He looked at the spot carefully and then disappeared inside the tree. Soon I saw him making his way along one of the walkways suspended two stories above me and then he disappeared again. I searched frantically and then I saw him climbing another spiral staircase to yet another walkway even higher up and then he disappeared again.

Soon he was back on the step just beyond me exclaiming, “Grandma, Grandma, this is so neat.” And then he was off again.

Again I looked frantically to see where he had gone, and again I could spot him from time to time and then he would disappear and I did not know where to look.

For the first three times I was apprehensive that he might get lost in the crowd of several hundred children, or he might get mixed up and not be able to find me again, but after the third time I realized he could always find me and so I began to relax. But I stayed in my agreed upon spot.



We were in the midst of the cacophony of children’s voices shouting to one another, laughing, occasionally screaming as they slid down one or other of the unique slides, or in the ball pit where they threw dodge balls at one another.

Suddenly, in the midst of all the other happy children’s voices, I heard, “Grandma, Grandma, look at me.” And there he was, on the suspended walkway, far above me, looking down, happy as a kid can be. I heard him! I looked up and saw him! My heart was filled with joy!

Out of all those other children’s voices, that great jumble of sound, from a distance away, I heard my grandson!

And it hit me! Out of all those others talking to my Father, pleading with my Father, calling to my Father, He hears my voice! He hears all the others, and He hears ME! I can’t wait to share this with our friend Dick. Amen!

Seeing Through A Glass Darkly

O.K. Paul is talking about spiritual things, not seeing the future so I am taking this out of context. The point is that we cannot see into the future, we have MUCH clearer hindsight than we have foresight. Colin has shown me that more clearly (yes, I intended to use that word) than perhaps any other event in my life.

Some of you reading this blog know the story of Colin, our grandson, but let me fill in for those who don’t.

Up until 27 months ago, we had one grandchild (Ethan, of whom I have written in the past) and not much hope for additional grandchildren. Then our daughter Becki discovered she was pregnant, at age 43, and not just pregnant, but there were going to be twins.

Her age made her high risk so she had more frequent doctor visits, ultrasounds, etc. To make matters simple, the babies were called Baby A and Baby B. For awhile both babies grew at an acceptable rate for twins, but then came the day when Baby A did not seem to be growing as fast as Baby B. To make a long story short, the doctors determined that Baby A’s placenta had a problem. Becki and John soon had the worst kind of decision a parent could be asked to make.

Baby A would NOT make it to 40 weeks: they could do nothing, Baby A would die but most likely stay in-utero giving Baby B a change to make it to close to 40 weeks and therefore a good chance to grow normally. They could deliver the babies immediately (at 24 weeks) and risk losing both babies (their lungs would not be very well developed), they could wait (from week to week) to give Baby B a better chance, but the risk continued to be losing Baby A. At 28 weeks the doctors said they now had to decide. Baby B finally had a better chance to live outside the womb, they weren’t sure about Baby A, but they(the doctors) would do everything they could.

Becki and John decided to go ahead and at least give Baby A a chance. And so Becki underwent her second C-Section and Veronica (Baby B) and Colin (Baby A) were born.

Roni weighed 3 lbs, 6 ozs, Colin weighed 1 lb, 7 ozs. Both babies were whisked into the NICU, put into preemie incubators, hooked up to every conceivable monitoring device and watched round the clock. And loved!

Roni came home after two months in the NICU, with a monitor for her apnea, Colin remained for 111 days.

The first time Bill and I went to Chicago to see the babies, about a week after they had been delivered, we could only go in to see Colin one at a time. When it was my turn, I stood next to John and peered in at this little bird that had fallen out of his nest. I began to cry and I silently begged God to take this grandchild, this flesh of my flesh, home because I could only see problems ahead. How could this tiny baby, the size of a pound of butter with legs, with tubes coming out of every part of his tiny body, with skin so translucent that you could see every vein, how could he ever be normal? “Please God, spare my daughter, my son-in-law, his big brother Ethan the pain and just take him home.” I never told Becki or John about my prayer.

I admit that my prayers in those early days of Colin’s life were more for his parents, his big brother, his sister. I prayed for those tending Colin, for his obvious pain issues, but I had no hope that he would survive.

I could not see through the glass of the future. I had no hope, I did not even dare to have faith. I did, as I try to always pray, ask God that His will be done. If Colin was to live and have “issues” I knew/know that God knows what is best for ALL of us. And so, ultimately, I prayed that His will be done here, now, on earth, as it is in Heaven. And He DID!

Yesterday Becki called to tell me how proud I would be of my grandson. “Which one?” I asked, knowing full well what she was calling about (I read her blog too). “Colin is walking everywhere. You would be so proud of him.” AND I AM!

I know lots of people have had preemies, some as small as Colin, and they have wonderful stories to tell us as they put their arm around their strapping, 6 foot tall son. Colin is OUR miracle. He is our day-to-day, week-to-week, month-to-month personal miracle. As is Roni. I know that today’s medical community is largely responsible, but I know that God has given them the knowledge, the tools, and beyond all that He has been with Colin every step (yes, I mean STEP) of this journey.




I can only see the future through a glass darkly, but when I turn around and look back at my life I can see so many dark places (sometimes “shadows in the valley of death”) that are bright with God’s sunlight.

And so, once again, I turn to face that unrevealed future with eyes of faith that allow me to pierce that unknown darkness with a certainty that He continues to walk with me day by day, and “My steps have held to your paths; my feet have not stumbled.” Psalm 17:5

We are called to “walk by faith”, and when we can’t see through the dark glass of the future, sometimes it is hard to take that first, hesitant step, just as Colin was hesitant taking his first step, but he did it and now at 21 months, he is walking everywhere! AMEN!

Getting to Know You

I first knew her through her neighbor, Jean. We didn’t actually get to meet Marilyn, but we heard about her. Her mother-in-law was in that long process of dying and the family was in the midst of a prolonged series of squabbles so Jean asked us to pray for Marilyn.

Each week the Bible Study felt like we knew Marilyn a bit better as Jean continued to give us updates, and a bit more about Marilyn herself. She also told Marilyn that the group was praying for her as she went through this very upsetting time.

We prayed for Marilyn for the entire year. Near the end of that year together Marilyn stopped by Jean’s house to thank us for praying for her. We invited her to stay, which she did. We felt like we knew her and she was welcomed into the midst of the group. The warmth of the group was almost overwhelming to her.

During the next year of the Bible study Marilyn began coming on a fairly regular basis, eventually inviting the group into her home. Now I was getting to know her in the midst of this warm group context. I have always striven to make the Bible study a safe place to share hurts as well as joys. As Marilyn felt more and more comfortable within the group she shared more and more of herself.

Over the next several years we came to know Marilyn, and love her - within the context of the group. She is a very private person, but the loving warmth of the group and the safe environment allowed her to reveal more and more of herself. I felt like I was getting to know her quite well.

Then a year or so ago I invited her to have lunch with me. Marilyn was delighted to be invited to lunch and we went to a nice restaurant where I knew we would have time to visit without being disturbed.

It was quite clear that being in this one-on-one setting was something Marilyn craved and so one lunch-out developed into lunch out about once a month. Each time we are together, just the two of us, I learn more about the private, inner Marilyn. We have developed a relationship that allows a sharing on a deeper level than the group setting. Now I know Marilyn in a very personal way and each time we are together we know each other better.

Getting to know Marilyn reflects how I know Christ.

When I was around 7 my father decided that my brother and I should be in Sunday School. Since we had no car we had to walk to church and the nearest church happened to be a Baptist church. For the first time in my life I began to hear about God and His son Jesus and I began to get to know them.

For several months I avidly learned all I could about God, I wanted to know this person who had made the world, and me, and everything else. The stories I heard were wonderful and I couldn’t seem to get enough.

My Sunday School and Church School teachers kept talking about “inviting Jesus into your heart”. I had no idea what that meant, but one day it struck me that if I wanted to know Jesus even better, “inviting Him into my heart” might do that. So I knelt down and “asked Him into my heart”. Now I knew Him in a different way than just hearing about Him. Now I knew Him in a similar way the rest of “the group” knew Him.

I continued to learn about Him, and I knew Him as the group related to Him, but I longed to know Him even more personally.

I was already reading my Bible on a frequent basis and trying desperately to relate to God and Jesus as the group related to Him, but I had a strong sense that there should be something more to our relationship. So I decided to read my Bible from cover to cover, trying to block out the voices of the group telling me how to relate to Him, and find out about Him myself.

I set my foot on a path that has become a life-long experience. God and I have an almost daily “walk together” and I now know not just about Him, not just as whatever group I am currently in knows Him, but I know Him.

Marilyn has a number of friends, she has a close family, she has a church family and each one of us knows her slightly differently from all the others. Some know a lot about her, but don’t really know her. But even those of us who actually know the inner Marilyn each know her in our own way, in the way she relates to us, to the degree that our relationship has grown.

Many Christians know a lot about God, but I think there are not so many who really know God and even those of us who do know Him, know Him in a slightly different way. I could never state that I know Marilyn best, that I know her better than anyone else, or even that I know all there is to know about her (NO one can say that). And so it is with my relationship with God. Others know God in a very different way than I do, but the way He reveals Himself to others is no greater, no lesser than the way He reveals Himself to me.

Someday we will see Him, as Paul puts it, face to face. And I think it will take all of eternity to really get to know Him. I suspect even in eternity we will each know God slightly differently. After all, He is a VERY BIG GOD. Some days I can’t wait.

Seeing Through a Glass Smearily

Our grandson, Colin, LOVES to play with my glasses. He is fascinated that my eyes hide behind the clear plastic lenses. He will say “eyes” and reach and touch the glasses. Then he giggles, says “eyes” again and touches the lenses.

When I take the glasses off he peers at the lenses, then looks at my eyes, says “eyes”, touches my face then giggles, reaching for the glasses, wanting me to put them back on. I do and he says “eyes” again and touches the lenses.

We can repeat this scenario multiple times during the day. Needless to say, if I don’t clean my glasses after each encounter with a sticky-fingered 18-month-old, they get quite smeary.

Since my lenses are a hard plastic, I am careful when I clean them - past experience has taught me that they can get scratched.

When we are with our grandchildren for a day, or (in rare, but wonderful) several days, my glasses can get to the point of being almost “foggy”.

Recently we were with our grandchildren for a full day, leaving their house around 7 pm in order to get home by 9 pm, and soon after, to bed.

I did not take the time to clean my glasses before we left and went to bed without cleaning them. When I got up in the morning to have coffee with Bill, I realized that I was seeing the world through “a glass smearily”.

In the King James version of the Bible Paul says in I Corinthians 13, verse 12, “now we see through a glass darkly…” I like the way the Message puts it: “We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!”

As human beings, and as Christians, we seem to often be seeing things through “a glass smearily”.

The window panes of our lives are often so fogged up with our prejudices, the lenses of our spiritual eyes are often myopic with our narrow viewpoints, that we are unable to see things clearly.

I suspect that nearly everyone reading this has at some point made a judgment about someone before we really knew the facts. I am fairly certain that most of us have judged a situation without making an attempt to see it from someone else’s point of view.

Often, I suspect, our view of life is smeary without us even realizing that “our glasses need to be cleaned”.

Along the path that God has led Bill and me, we have had the privilege of being associated with at least a dozen or so different denominations, and have friends in several additional groups. When God first moved me outside the “box” of my childhood I was very judgmental of others because they didn’t see spiritual life exactly as I did.

God has had to “clean my glasses” numerous times to help me see others more clearly. In the last dozen or so years I have finally come to appreciate the viewpoint of other people on their own faith-journey whose background is different, but no less valid, than my own.

Every time I “see” God from someone else’s viewpoint, I have seen yet a little more of His glory, a little more of His vastness, a little more of His deep love for ALL of us humankind.

Every time I make an effort to “see” someone’s situation BEFORE I make a judgment about their behavior (reaction) I more clearly “see” their pain, their wounding, their struggle to … And every time I allow God to “clean my glasses” to see that other person I see more clearly not just how much He loves them, but how much He loves me.

Being an active part of God’s family is so simple: Love God with our entire being, Love our neighbor as ourselves. So simple; and the hardest thing He could ever ask us to do. But it is so much easier when we allow Him to “clean our glasses”, when we begin to see Him, our world, our neighbors through spiritual lenses that are no longer smeary.

Going Home

My husband Bill and I have been on a most interesting journey these past seven months.

When Bill retired (his second retirement) from the ministry at the end of May, it was recommended by our denomination that we absent ourselves from the country church he had pastored for the past 7 years - for at least a year. This is to give the new pastor a change to establish herself without feeling like the “old” pastor was ever looking over her shoulder. Bill and I both think this is a good idea.

This was an opportunity to visit many of the churches we have wanted to visit, but difficult when you have pastoral responsibilities. So we plotted out a journey through a dozen or so churches, adding several more to our list as we went along.

We visited local churches, we visited far flung churches where the pastor was a friend, we visited start-up churches and long established churches. We visited churches in at least 6 different denominations ranging from “charismatic” to “main line”.

We heard some great sermons, some mediocre sermons (our opinion, of course) and a couple of sermons that made up want to get up and walk out (but we didn’t).

More interesting than the sermons was the reaction of the various congregations to our presence.

Last week Bill and I had an occasion to compare our reactions to those various congregations.

Hands down, no doubt, no comparison the most loving, the most inviting, the most genuine congregation was the church in Virginia that was trying to be a presence, to be a place of ministry, to the University of Virginia, in Charlottesville.

This congregation was multi-ethnic, multi-generational, multi-functional, and several more multis. We were warmly welcomed when we entered the sanctuary (a building no longer wanted by a different church). We were hugged after the service and stayed for nearly an hour talking to several people genuinely interested in us and our journey. They knew we would probably never be back but they embraced us anyway.

Our second favorite experience was the start-up congregation pastored by a dear friend (of a different denomination) whose ministry we have followed for 20 years (he was just a KID when we first got to know him).

Once again we were welcomed, embraced, folded into the congregational body – they certainly reflected our friend’s outgoing spirit – but it was more than just a reflection.

The rest of our experience was less than satisfying (with one exception). We visited several other start-up churches (reflecting three different denominations). One would expect these to be outgoing, encompassing, warm places just by the nature of the reason for their existence – BUT THEY WEREN’T. We felt like “outsiders” during our whole visit. If we had been seeking a new church home, if we had been seeking to find out who Christ is, what this “church thing” is all about, we would have left with our questions unanswered and probably never gone back, maybe even stopped searching.

We also visited several other well-established churches (because we knew the pastor) and the feeling of being an “outsider” was, perhaps, even more pronounced.

During the season of Advent Bill wanted to attend one church for the continuity of the season, the preaching, the experience. We chose a church close to us whose pastor is a friend and whose preaching makes our hearts sing.

We attended that church for six weeks, consecutively, and, other than two couples we knew previously, no one, NO ONE made an attempt to welcome us into the fold. It was almost as if we were invisible.

We also attended a local charismatic church. Charismatic by its very definition implies outgoing, engaging, compelling. Once again, however, we felt like outsiders and left knowing that we would never attend that church again.

The exception to all of the above was when Bill was invited to preach at a church he used to pastor. It was a homecoming like we have never before experienced. But, BUT, Bill had been the beloved pastor there, and we continue to have a relationship with many in that congregation.

So, we have been pondering what to do for the next five months, and what to do after these next five months, when we got The Phone Call.

“Hi, Dotti, this is Lorna.”

She is the new pastor of the church from which Bill retired. She is the pastor we are giving time to get adjusted.

Her call was to invite us, urge us, encourage us to return to the congregation. “Everyone wants you to come back.” We knew this already because every Christmas card, every chance meeting while shopping, even several phone calls wondered when we would be back.

Lorna assured me that she is feeling so comfortable, that this is such a “good fit” that our coming back won’t threaten her in any way.

And so…we went home.

It is good to be home, it is wonderful to be welcomed and loved and valued – but we are returning to what we already had at the time we left.

I am gravely concerned about the rest of our experience “out there”.

Jesus tells His disciples, not long before His arrest, “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” As far back as the giving of the Law, the Jews were told to “welcome the stranger in your midst” and Jesus tells the crowd gathered that the “second commandment” is to “love your neighbor as yourself”.

We were overwhelmed by the lack of love we experienced. I know there are many, MANY churches out there who do show God’s love to all who come into their midst, but I fear there are even more churches who do not.

I fear that in many ways The Church in United States is becoming a cold, sterile, dead institution.

And I wonder, just as when the Jews wandered away from “loving God with their entire being” and this grieved God, is He not grieved today with what is happening in our country?