God Bless This Clearing

God created the most beautiful wildflower He had yet made.  He planted the seed of the flower in the middle of a clearing in a forest and asked the trees and grasses to shelter the seed.  So the trees shed their leaves and needles, and shook bits of bark and twigs over the clearing.  The grasses grew up around the seed and hovered over the plant as it began to grow.

One day a man, walking through the forest, came upon the glen.  His eyes lit up as he viewed the small opening in the canopy.  “I know what I need to do.” he thought to himself, and he turned and headed back the way he had come.

A short time later the man returned with a rake, a small trowel and bags for compost.  He labored all afternoon and filled three of the compost bags with leaves, pine needles, small twigs and stems of glass that pulled free as he raked.  He surveyed the work he had done with a smile.  Then he took the small trowel and dug up the weed growing in the center of the clearing.

The man paused as he reached the edge of the clearing, on his way home with his tools and the bags of compost.  He said in a loud voice, “GOD BLESS THIS CLEARING” and he went home satisfied with the work he had done.

* * * * *

The trees of the forest and the grasses moaned and cried aloud over the destruction the man had done.  Not only had he removed their protective covering from the glade, but he had dug up the plant God had placed there.  The spot was now barren and desolate.

God heard the forest’s lament and He came and walked among the trees and comforted them.  “Will you punish the man for destroying what you had planted?” the trees asked and the grasses murmured.  “No,” said God, “the man has brought his own punishment on himself.  Watch and you will see.”

Over the next several months thistle seeds blew into the clearing and planted themselves, grew and flourished.  Wild Garlic Mustard crept in and filled the spaces between the thistles and the trees.  And Buckthorn rooted itself in the soil and grew.

Sometime later the man again walked the paths of the forest and when he came to the clearing he was appalled.  “Who has ruined the work I did to clear this space?’  With anger he retraced his steps and then returned with a shovel and a garden rake.  He labored all day digging up the thistles, the garlic and the buckthorns.  He dug deep, severing the roots of the garlic and the roots of the trees along the edges of the clearing. 

The man piled the debris at the edge of the clearing saying to himself, “this is organic material.  It will compost and then enrich the soil.”

Then the man shouldered his shovel and rake and as he reached the edge of the again cleared space, he said in a loud, and slightly angry, voice, “GOD BLESS THIS CLEARING!”  

* * * *

The pile of thistles, garlic mustard and buckthorn rested quietly at the end of the clearing, heating up as composition began.  The thistle blossoms matured, closed and began to make seeds, then opened to the fluffy white tufts that have delighted children over the ages.  Soon the seeds were mature and every breeze wafted the downy parachutes over the clearing and over the tops of the trees.  Some seeds settled onto the soil of the clearing and others found new homes beyond the trees.

The severed garlic roots each produced a new plant until the clearing was more populated with plants than it had been before.  At the same time, the severed roots of the trees could no longer transport nutrients to the branches and leaves of the trees ringing the clearing and the trees began to yellow and die.

The man once again walked the paths of the forest until he came to the clearing.  He stood at the edge of the once verdant glen and looked with despair on the rank weeds and the ring of dying trees.  “What has happened?  How can this be?”  He cried aloud.  The trees and the grasses murmured, but the man did not have his ears open to hear their words.

The man sank to his knees and with great anguish, cried out, “Oh God, what can we do about this travesty?”  He rose and stumbled his way back out of the forest.

* * * *

The trees at the edges of the clearing continued to die, alarming the adjacent trees.  The grasses did their best to recover the glade, but the weeds were too strong and they were only able to retain their foothold in a few places.

Summer came with its blazing sun and long days without rain.  Soon the trees at the edge of the one-time glen were nearly completely dead.  The thistles turned brown under the glare of the sun and even the garlic wilted.  Only the trees deeper in the forest survived as their roots went deep into the soil where there was plenty of moisture.  These trees sheltered the grasses and other plants growing at their feet so that, while they drooped from the heat, they continued to survive.

In August great rolling banks of black clouds appeared on the horizon and powerful streaks of lightening flashed out of the clouds.  Shortly the bank of clouds was over the forest and a powerful bolt of lighting struck the largest of the pines that now stood dead at the edge of the clearing.  As the lightening seared its way down the trunk, the pine burst into flames, its resin exploded in bullets of fire setting the dry vegetation in the clearing on fire as well.  Soon the entire opening in the forest was ablaze.

The man happened to step out of his home to watch the bank of clouds with the huge bolts of lightening rolling toward him.  He saw a column of smoke rising from the middle of the forest.  Alarmed, he rushed inside to alert the authorities that the forest was on fire.

While the fire crews gathered the equipment for fighting a fire in the midst of the forest, the black clouds began to release their load of rain.  Even as the fire crews made their way down the fire lane into the midst of the forest, the fire in the glen was dying.  Only the trunks of the once majestic ring of trees still smoldered, but as they burned through, the remnants of the trunks and branches fell into the clearing and burned themselves out in the ash of the other plants.

When the great storm passed, as the sun shown on the forest the next morning, the trees of the forest gazed on the once beautiful glen.  It was now a sodden mass of wet ash and fallen limbs.  The trees and the grasses within the forest sighed and waited for the God of all creation to continue to do the work He had begun.

* * * *

It was some time later that the man returned to the forest.  He wanted to see what destruction the fire has caused. 

The man walked to the edge of the clearing.  A blanket of ash still covered the entire area.  Even the fallen tree limbs and trunks were buried under the ash. 

A great moan escaped the man and he wondered if his beautiful forest could ever recover.  He felt helpless to make any meaningful effort in the face of such devastation.

While the man stood helpless at the edge of the clearing, another man made his way down the path, from the opposite edge of the forest.  This man also stepped to the edge of the trees and surveyed the gray, still sodden blanket of ash.  “It looks hopeless, doesn’t it.” said the second man.

The first man turned and looked through bleary eyes at this older gentleman and could only nod. 

“But it really isn’t hopeless, you know.”

“What do you mean?” asked the younger man.  “I don’t even understand how all this could have happened.” And he hung his head in despair.

“Ah, that is easy.  I have been observing all that has gone on for these past several years.  Someone, probably thinking they were doing a good thing, removed all the protective covering in this clearing several years ago.  Even more tragic, they dug up the one plant that was of greatest value in entire the forest.  I suppose they thought it was a weed.”

The younger man looked sharply at the older man.  Then he turned and looked back at the ruined clearing with horror on his face. 

* * * *

The older man continued, “Clearing the opening in the forest allowed thistles and wild garlic and buckthorns to establish themselves.  Then, again I suppose the man thought he was doing the right thing, someone came in and cleared away the invading plants, digging up many of the roots as well.  What he apparently did not know, every time he severed a garlic plant, it produced two or more new plants from the roots still in the soil.  And he dug too close to the trees, cutting their roots which supply the trees with nutrients.  And he left the thistles in a great pile where they could heat up and still produce many seeds.  He, no doubt, thought he was helping restore the glen, but he actually made it much worse.”

“And now this fire.  I suppose it will never recover.”  The younger man’s voice was hoarse with emotion.

“Oh, quite the opposite.”  The older man smiled and gently laid his hand on the arm of the younger man.  “The fire is the best thing that could have happened to this little glen.  It is actually restorative.  Look!”  and he picked up a broken branch that lay next to him.  He gently pushed the ash aside and the younger man could see tiny spikes of green already pushing their way through the blackened crust of earth.

“See, the fire has killed the thistle and the garlic, but the grasses, that have been here all along, have very deep roots and they have survived the heat and flame of the fire.  By next spring, this clearing will again be covered with waving grasses. 

“And see here,” he pointed with the stick at a burned fir cone, “the fire has released the seeds that were tucked tightly within this cone.  Some of them will also take root in the nutrient enriched soil, for the ash is filled with nutrients that will nourish them.  Even as the grasses take back the clearing tiny evergreens, and shortly after them deciduous trees, will repopulate the edges of this clearing and it will become a glen once again.

“I hope someday the man who brought about such ruin to this clearing will see how it has healed itself.  When God created this place, He also created a way for it to be healed.”

The younger man sobbed aloud.  He could not speak as emotions that he did not fully understand.  Finally he whispered, “I am that man.  I asked God to bless this clearing, but I actually brought about its ruin.”

* * * *

Once again the older man placed his hand on the arm of the younger man. 

“No, you did not bring about its ruin.  See, I have shown you that it will recover and be as it was before. 

“You merely made the mistake that so many humans make.  YOU decided what God needed you to do in this place when you began to remove the protective covering.  Too often humans decide what they should do for God, instead of asking God what He wants them to do.

“When God designed all of life, He made it with a balance.  Humans have to live in balance with all of nature - and with each other.  It is hard for humans to wait for God to show them what to do, how to live, how to treat each other, but it is the only way that balance can be preserved.”

The younger man sighed deeply, “I think I can see that now, I think I have learned a great lesson, or perhaps, am beginning to learn a great lesson.”

The older man smiled and gently squeezed the younger man’s arm, “Yes, I think you are too. 

“Ah, look” and he pointed to the center of the ash covered clearing, “the plant that you thought was just a weed is growing again.” 

The younger man peered intently at the place the older man indicated and he could just see the tiniest tip of green poking through the gray blanket of ash.  A look of joy suffused his face and he turned to grin at the older man, but the man was gone. 

The younger man turned back to gaze again at the clearing.  “May this clearing bless God and all who see it.” he whispered. Then he turned and went home filled with great peace and unexplainable joy.

amen

Spiritual Asperger’s

We had been praying for the niece of a friend of mine who has Asperger syndrome.  I needed more information so I had looked up the syndrome on Wikipedia, that’s when I had one of those “click, click, click” moments.  For the first time in my life, my brilliant, but socially inept father began to make more sense.

My father had graduated near the top of his class from Cooper Union with a degree in Chemical Engineering.  His IQ was very high, but he had great difficulty keeping a job.  He was never comfortable in social settings, had no close relationships, and had difficulty relating to his three children, and his grandchildren.

As I read about the syndrome, so many of the symptoms fit my father.  Suddenly a great number of what I had considered “failures” on his part, as a husband, and as a father, were now explainable.  I have often wondered, since then, if that diagnosis had been available to my father (and perhaps more importantly, to my mother) how different life might have been for them, and for their children.  I wonder if, knowing how his brain was wired slightly differently than the typical, acceptable, socially interactive person, if my father couldn’t have learned to compensate for his “difficulties in social interaction” (Wikipedia).  And I wonder if my mother had understood her husband’s difficulty, if she couldn’t have helped him overcome, or perhaps the better word is compensate, some of his social difficulties.

One of the results of my dad’s ineptness were the several times we made significant moves to new states, new schools, new situations.  Several of those moves were difficult for all of us - tho, as I look back now, I see how God has used those moves to teach me many things.  It also meant the loss of income, once for more than two years, which was very hard for our mother.

As Bill and I continue to read our way through the Old Testament, we see over and over that the Children of Israel drift away from God.  How easily they forget to honor him with their entire being.  As a result, they are constantly “suffering” the consequences and the steps God has to take to bring them back into a relationship with himself.

Every morning (well, almost every morning) before I get out of bed I ask God to show me this day what He wants me to see, learn, discover and to use me as He chooses.  But I have yet to have a day when I successfully follow my own desire to walk with Him fully that day.  Like the Israelites of old, I have a form of Spiritual Asbergers.  I quickly lose my sensitivity to God’s presence and interaction in my life.

Even before the Israelites enter “the promised land” they are told how they are to interact (and often NOT interact) with the people living in the land who worshiped (often in despicable ways) “other gods”.  It is almost shocking how quickly they forget Moses’ and Joshua’s oft repeated instructions on how they are to behave once they enter the land. 

As I have often said, both in this blog and often in public, Jesus distilled the Old Testament law into two very simple “rules” – love God with our entire being, love others as ourselves.  So each morning, I also purpose that I will do better this day in loving others.  It seems to last until I go out the door and enter the world of people.  I confess that I do not do well when someone cuts me off in traffic.  Bill and I avoid watching the news on TV because it is often very upsetting when we hear the way people treat each other.  Even within the church I often struggle, within myself, with those who see life differently than I do.

As human beings, as yet to be perfected people, we suffer from Spiritual Aspergers, and have to learn to overcome it, to compensate.  But we are also are in that lifelong path of being transformed by God.  Like the Israelites of old, we too stray and have to be brought back.  We too have to be regularly reminded what it means to walk daily with God and to view others as He views them.  Our Spiritual Aspergers can be transformed from “difficulties in social interaction” to a God given sensitivity to begin to see Him as He is and to see others as God desires us to see them.  May we ever rejoice in the transformation process that is at work in our lives.       amen

Taking Shelter in a House of Cards

Bill and I have been reading through the “Chronological Bible in a Year” as our own study for this year. 

It has been an interesting experience.  Even though this is at least my 4^th time to read through the Bible from Genesis to Revelation, it is the first time I have done it while reading aloud, and with another person.  You cannot skip parts when you are reading aloud; suddenly there are verses and perspectives that you never saw before.

While the Israelites were tromping through the wilderness, God’s instruction in Numbers to them is, “Whenever the cloud lifted from above the tent, the Israelites set out; wherever the cloud settled, the Israelites encamped. ¹⁸ At the Lord’s command the Israelites set out, and at his command they encamped. As long as the cloud stayed over the tabernacle, they remained in camp. ¹⁹ When the cloud remained over the tabernacle a long time, the Israelites obeyed the Lord’s order and did not set out. ²⁰ Sometimes the cloud was over the tabernacle only a few days; at the Lord’s command they would encamp, and then at his command they would set out. ²¹ Sometimes the cloud stayed only from evening till morning, and when it lifted in the morning, they set out. Whether by day or by night, whenever the cloud lifted, they set out.”

The Israelites did not know ahead of time when they were to set out, or when they were to settle down for a time.  For their entire wilderness experience, they had to look to God’s dwelling (the tabernacle) each day to know what that day was to hold.

As I have thought about this principle, I have realized that this can be found throughout scripture.  In “The Lord’s Prayer” we are to ask for our DAILY bread, not our weekly, not our monthly, but our DAILY. 

In Matthew Christ tells the crowd, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

We, however, do NOT live that way.  We have a great need to know what tomorrow holds.  As a society, many are ever looking at what has happened in “The Market” to see if life is secure, if their needs will be met.  We no longer look to God’s dwelling place, but to Wall Street.

We don’t see that Wall Street is an elaborate “House of Cards”.  We have built much of our lives on an artificial, fragile structure that can come tumbling down with the least breath of air.  Change and disaster are ever just a few points away.

And in fact, that “house of cards” has crumbled.  But, like the Israelites who ended up wandering for 40 years, we continue to look to the economy to recover, to be as it was before.  We are constantly wanting to go “back to Egypt” even though it means returning to slavery - the slavery of being dependent on a “house of cards” for our security.

I believe that God has/is giving us a chance to learn to trust Him for today’s journey, and trusting Him to provide for us each day - what He knows that we need.  It is difficult for us as American Christians, to do this, but God’s word is filled with promises that if we trust Him, He will provide all that we need, and our lives will be filled with abundant joy.

The Israelites were given clear and simple instructions on the best way to live their lives as a society and as individuals.  And following those instructions guaranteed that all their needs would be met, each day.  Christ repeats those instructions in the Gospels for us today.  We are to love God with our entire being, and to love others as we love ourselves.  It’s a simple formula, but when lived out in each of our lives, and if it could begin to permeate our society, we would no longer need to see shelter in a “house of cards” but would find security, and peace, and joy in the solid rock of Christ. 

amen

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!