Finding What Is Right

Dear Christa—

And as the night enveloped them, and they drove away—away—but not from the pain, she spoke softly, “We have to do what’s best for us.” And she was right in saying so—hard as those words must have been. And so they did, and it was right. Time has proven so.

The Bible speaks of a woman who tears down her home, but a wise woman builds it up. Sometimes that is not easy. It demands a coming along side. It requires a pondering—a consideration of what is best, what is right—what is right for us.

Many things in our walk are laid out—rules to be followed from the mouth of God in Scripture. And, we are wise to know them and to obey them. Yet, many things are not so commanded. Not every family looks the same and thankfully so. It shouldn’t. 

So, each couple as they embark on a lifetime together must do what is right—what is right for them. For some that will take them to remote villages in distant continents, far, far from home. For some it will mean a continuing of a life they have always known. And each must decide. Each must do what is right for them.

Sometimes things that seem forever change. Life has a way of carrying us to places we didn’t look for. And what we find there—well, that’s often up to us.

My mother-in-law followed her husband all over the Southwest during his working years. Once, when I was a young wife, she told me, “I just decided I was going to find the good things about wherever we were.” That was a good lesson for me. It helped me to move from my native Midwest and build a home in the Colorado that I love.

And, as time shifts and turns, I want to never be afraid to experience a new adventure, for life should never be stagnant regardless of where we are. So, let us not be shocked at the surprises that await us. We are on a journey to the Holy City, and we must walk the path that is right for us.

Perseverance

Dear Christa—

The memory verse was James 1:2-3—

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because we know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.

When James penned these words, he may have been talking about the great trials of religious persecution that the early believers faced. But, whether our trials are of literal persecution or the many petty trials of this life to the great struggles we endure, I’ve come to believe that all trials bring pain. And, I have seen many lately who are dealing with pain.

Some pains are transitory, as are many of the pains I hear about between high schoolers. Some, though, deal with illness and divorce which will leave an indelible mark, and then some trudge on through the aftermath of death—wondering how to adjust to this life without the parent that they so depended on. All are trials. All are in pain—and that endurance of pain makes sense of the ending of this verse that has at times been confusing to me.

I do not believe it is the trial itself that develops perseverance, but to whom we go when we are in pain.

Pain has a way of pushing toward God as our refuge or away from Him.

So, where do we go in times of pain? Do we wish it away—so much so that we reject the Comforter who waits for us? Or, do we go where we’ve always gone—the only place we really know where to go?

Pain should send us to our only Redeemer, the only One who can right the wrongs, comfort our sorrows, and bring us peace in the knowledge of His purposeful plan.

Then, and only then, can we consider our trials something in which to rejoice.

New Journeys

Dear Christa—

J. Alfred Prufrock, the topic of “The Love Song of J. Alfred Purfrock” (a poem I won’t miss teaching this year), measured out his life in coffee spoons. The question always came up, “What kind of man measures his life in coffee spoons?” In the years that I taught juniors and seniors, I sometimes wondered, “What kind of woman measures her life in grading research papers?” It was a sobering question—a question that many women ask; they just replace the gerund phrase with another mundane activity. What kind of woman measures out her life in changing diapers, driving kids to activities, finding the bugs in the next computer program? The list goes on and on.

For me I usually think of the start of a new year as coming in August. This year has brought changes—some I asked for, some I didn’t. Christa, your world too is changing. As I’ve sat behind your family the last few weeks in church, it has struck me how old your kids are becoming. You will soon leave the preschool years behind and you’re entering the world of high school, and I thought, “maybe I need to change up some of these journals.”

What I remember most about teenagers and high school was whirlwind craziness, laughter, frustration, and some of the most fun and scary times I’ve ever had. There you sit on the brink of the fastest slide to grown children than you can ever imagine.

I think that the hardest thing for me as a parent was and is the realization that I have so little control over the ones I love most. Parents teach and train. We aren’t perfect, but we generally do the best we know how. What we want most is for our children to reach out to the God we know is their only hope and strength to navigate this fallen and enticing world. But, in the end they each decide the path to tread.

I think the thing I would tell you about children is to flex with each new phase—to embrace the newness, to not look too longingly at the younger phases you leave behind. There’s always something exciting and rejuvenating in a new direction.

The sad thing about J. Alfred Purfrock in his poem is that at the end, he never changed. He just stayed paralyzed in his coffee measuring routine. Look to the future with hope, not regret. Reach to the future, anticipating good things. I’m hoping to do the same. There were lots of things I loved about teaching sophomores that I’d forgotten over the last 12 years. I’m finding joy in them, and one of those things is that “The Love Song of J. Alfred Purfrock” is not in their curriculum.

Such Great Salvation

Dear Christa—

Think about it: one little act of disobedience. How could it seem so bad? How often have we done similar things? —left the classroom door unlocked, drove just five miles over the speed limit, didn’t do the one thing we were asked to do today—such a little thing. Could it really make such a difference—really?

Yes. Yes, it did.

Did it seem like a simple act? A bite? A little taste? And after her disobedience, Eve’s next step—in her newly gained knowledge—was to take Adam down with her. Then suddenly, nothing was simple any longer, and the whole human race came crashing down into what’s been coined as The Fall of Mankind.

After God laid down the judgment, and her children were conceived in passed down sin, not much else is mentioned about Eve in the Bible. But, Eve may have lived a long time outside that beautiful garden.

I wonder what she thought about as the sun beat down by day and the heat rose up by night? If anyone saw the immediate results of her sin, it surely was Eve.

And, though God had promised redemption, and it was certain to come, I wonder how long it took Eve to accept herself and move on? How often did those words of the serpent haunt her dreams? With every withered flower she touched, did she rue that moment? Did she look away from Adam in shame and whisper, “If only…?”

Sometimes our actions cause deep and terrible consequences. Yet, even though such a great price of redemption has been paid, Satan can paralyze us with “what could have beens” to gain a victory long lasting for himself.

Yes, we sin. Who has not disobeyed the Word of the Lord many times over? And, the significance of that disobedience is revealed in the remedy—the very death of God in the Person of His Son.

So, when we sin (for we all sin), we must focus—not on ourselves—but on the great act of redemption that saves us—not just from a fiery separation from God for all eternity—but also from ourselves, this day and everyday forward.

Summer's End

Dear Christa—

The fourth and last load of sheets hangs on the clothesline, vying with a couple of sleeping bags and a tarp for space. The first load of towels is in the washer and the extra table taken down and a few of the floors vacuumed—all in silence. There was a time when to clean in silence was a treat, but those days have passed.

What a wonderful summer it has been, culminating with all four of our kids and their families for two glorious weeks. As everyone was here, I noticed that the three pictures of Jay and me that hang in the main bathroom continued to grow more and more crooked each day. I thought about straightening them, but instead I left them crooked and silly because I thought they were funny. Each day was filled with laughing and crying and tattling. We consumed more food than anyone could imagine, took probably a gazillion pictures, and had a ton of fun—so much fun that I don’t know what I’d say was my favorite.

The last time all the families were together was at Joy’s wedding, when we only had two little grandchildren. And after the celebrating and the cleaning, Kim put her feet up and said, “I’m so glad that everyone is married, and now when we get together we can just have fun.” And so we did: six years later and with eight more grandchildren.

Not all those six years have been fun. Each of us has had our struggles. Each of us probably could have done better. But, each of us is still connected, and I think that has a way of strengthening us. We laugh with each other. We learn from each other. We carry each other’s burdens.  And we know we are never alone.

Sometimes we feel alone, but it is a lie.

And, in the family of Christ, we are never alone, ever.

We are a part, and we are a family.

“If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.”

Michal

Dear Christa—

1 Chron. 15:29 states, “As the ark of the covenant of the LORD was entering the city of David, Michal daughter of Saul watched from a window. And when she saw King David dancing and celebrating, she despised him in her heart.” 2 Sam. 6:16 recounts the entrance of the ark to Jerusalem almost verbatim, except it adds the phrase “dancing before the Lord.”

There is a side to Michal that I can sympathize with. Did David ever really love her? I doubt it. She was a prize—purchased with the foreskins of 200 dead Philistines. Perhaps at one time she’d been infatuated by the strength and daring of her brother’s comrade who shared the king’s table, but no longer.

Eventually, as a piece of loose change, Saul pawned her off on another after David fled for his life, leaving her behind. And, it does seem intimated to me that in the house of Paltiel she’d known a man who’d truly loved her, for he walked behind her, weeping, when David vied for the throne and once more called for his prize, which was perhaps as much a political move to secure his position as anything else.

Michal, jaded and bitter, gazed down at her husband and king and despised him. I’m not sure I would have felt any differently. But, there is more revealed of Michal— more which speaks a warning.

Michal was a real live princess, raised in palace. Michal was the daughter of Saul, whose power had made him prideful and self-serving. And, as the saying goes, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” I think Michal may have felt too sophisticated and haughty to dance with the commoners. And she apparently was little impressed with the Lord’s ark and His blessings. After all, she was a princess—and not to be too judgmental of her—the Lord had rejected her father, and her brother who loved the Lord. It would have been a hard pill to swallow.

Jonathan had accepted God’s sovereign plan; Michal could not. It is so easy when one has felt wronged to turn a bitter stance. But, Michal’s bitterness did little for her. David himself chides her when he returns home, rubbing in God’s rejection of her family, and 2 Samuel 6:23 tells us that Michal had no children, ever—a grave disappointment to a Jewish woman.

Disappointments and wrongs happen in life, and when they do, it’s easy to turn to bitterness instead of trusting in the sovereign hand of God and believing that He is good. Michal’s life is a warning against that.

Camping

Dear Christa—

I’ve been having an issue with cooking pans lately, and today the problem is that I don’t have one. We brought our pop-up trailer here near Cripple Creek today so that Jay could fish, and I could work on the book. We’d also had a conversation last week about if we weren’t going to use the trailer, we need to sell it. It spurred us to take a day and a half to get away. Boy, have we had some great memories in this old trailer.

We bought this trailer 18 years ago to take our last big vacation with all our children before they started the college phase of life. Teaching in Christian schools, we never had the money to take fancy vacations, but we did have time. And so we camped. No matter how grumpy and disgruntled any of us were, it always dissipated to fun while camping.

I think Jay and I first decided we’d like a trailer the time we were camping with my sister and her family—when the inevitable thunder shower came, and Jay and I were in the van making up beds while Lora and Steve were stuck in the drenched tent with a toddler and all 4 of our kids. We’ve hauled this trailer to Minnesota, Illinois, Arkansas, and up the west coast, over to Yellowstone and back. But, it’s mainly gone on countless fishing and hunting trips up here around Cripple Creek. Camping was good for us.

Every family needs to find something that they really like to do together. It doesn’t have to be exciting; it doesn’t have to be expensive. It just has to be together. When we got the trailer, everyone had a job. Our kids today could tell you who was responsible for what when it came to putting the trailer up and down. Everyone could recount camping stories that would make the others laugh, probably most of them at my and Jay’s expense.

And, someday we surely will sell this trailer. The appeal of something that goes up and down easier without the hands of four teenagers was very enticing this morning. This old trailer has stayed dormant for the last three summers as we’ve traveled through Europe and stayed at nicer American accommodations, but I don’t think we’re ready to give up camping. Our children are bringing up a whole new generation of little campers for us to entertain, and I’m looking forward to it.

But, my immediate problem is what I’m going to cook the soup in tonight. I think it’s going to be the teakettle. I’ll let you know how that goes.