Rest, Reset, and the Sabbath

This morning we sympathized with Hoda Kotb, as she tried and failed to cover her feelings after she interviewed Drew Brees on the Morning Show. He made a five million dollar donation to NOLA, and it touched her especially because she once lived there. https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=hoda+kotb&view=detail&mid=8540FE5E71F40EDFE7798540FE5E71F40EDFE779&FORM=VIRE

We’ve watched some folks from the entertainment business post strange videos on Instagram and Twitter, wondering what in the world they’re trying to communicate or what feelings they’re attempting to elicit.

Slowly masks are being peeled back during this time of pandemic. Truth is showing itself. We’ve watched this reveal, if you will, for awhile as some reporters seemed more hateful and biased and politicians more divided. Now we see entertainers crumbling. At least it appears that way, but with actors you can never tell. We hear things out of the Vatican that in the past we would never have dreamed of hearing. But we also see businesses stepping into the gap and citizens doing the necessary thing, the kind thing.

I think we might view this as a Sabbath rest. We didn’t ask for it. Boy, did we not ask for this. And some in the medical community or those who find themselves figuring out new ways to do their jobs or those who are battling illness don’t feel rested at all. But many of us are at home more. Together more. Without the distraction of extra things. It is unfamiliar territory, but there are good things peeking out from behind the curtain of our usually busy lives.

Around four or five months ago, I began celebrating the Sabbath. No, I am not Jewish and I don’t do the things our Jewish friends do for their Shabbat. I was raised to regard Sunday as the Sabbath and did so all of my life. Except church responsibilities made it a bit busy. So now I have a day every week – the original day God set aside in the Ten Commandments – to rest. This is what I have found:

In order to get everything done before Friday sundown, I hurry up and do the things I used to put off. I get grocery shopping done, the gas tank filled, the house cleaned, laundry done, the bills paid, meals and desserts cooked, my usual writing work attended to, piano practiced, Sunday School lesson studied, and yard work done on another day.

It was hard at first and I still have slip-ups from time to time. But I have found a new sense of order in my life. I’ve found that I get more done. It’s true! With a Sabbath deadline, it’s amazing what you can accomplish ahead of time. My life gets a weekly reset! Saturday is my mini vacation every week now. I have more time to read, to pray, to enjoy nature, and to do nothing. The week as a whole has an extra bit of peace injected into it.

While I fully intended to write a blog on the wonders of the Sabbath, I’m led just now to post this little bit because our dear world needs comfort and peace (stat!); and that’s one of the gifts of the Sabbath rest.

When placed in God’s hands, every bad, hard, and evil thing in this world can be flipped. In fact, Joseph said: You meant to do me harm, but God meant it for good -so that it would come about as it is today, with many people’s lives being saved. While we are collectively shut down all over this world, we might just take the opportunity to gain a new understanding of what a slower pace adds to life. By subtracting, we find more! I wish you a peaceful Sabbath rest.

Kotb: Today.com; Genesis 50:20 (CJB); image: Pexels.com

Invisible Armor

We’ve heard that we are fighting an invisible enemy. We certainly can’t see the Corona virus with which the world is contending. Who knows what else around us needs our alertness, our discernment, our will to fight? Maybe the personal things that pester us need more than a glance from us. Maybe troubles in this world that call silently need more than our helpless hope that someday things will be different. There are other things, people, and forces that have been invisible to us throughout history, as well. I alluded to it in the post https://www.myfiresidechat.com/2017/05/17/living-in-our-time/ .

So as we face something new to us and old to the world, let’s recall again words given to us many years ago.

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.

We fight an invisible enemy suited, ourselves, with invisible armor. We fight an invisible enemy by being unyielding in our stand against it. We persevere. And the very best way to fight – the most powerful way to fight – is with constant contact with our Supreme Commander, Jesus. Amor up and fight on!

Scripture: Ephesians 6:10-18. For further reading: https://www.myfiresidechat.com/2016/11/08/a-seat-of-power/ ; https://www.myfiresidechat.com/2019/03/14/would-the-real-captain-america-please-stand-up/ ; https://www.myfiresidechat.com/2015/11/16/one-thing/

Time For A Speech

On June 6th of 1944 175,000 soldiers heard or read a speech from the Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force, Dwight D. Eisenhower. It was the eve of the invasion of Normandy Beach in France. The assault was code-named Operation Overlord.

Boys, some barely past high school and all who had their whole lives ahead of them, jumped into the unknown to save ordinary people from unspeakable evil.

We’ve seen a lot of wickedness, ourselves, of late. The more we find out, the darker it becomes. If you’re confused about that statement, you need to start doing some research in your spare time. Mainstream reporters won’t tell you. They have become untrustworthy and contribute to the problem. They will lie to you as smoothly as a crooning lothario. It’s time for you to take responsibility for your own knowledge.

And now we’re facing a panic over a type of flu. The virus spreads easily and unnoticeably and, though most people recover just fine, people with compromised immune systems are a bit more at risk for trouble. It’s always that way with the flu, by the way. What’s a puzzle is the panic. I’ll admit, early videos from China were very unsettling. They were awful not because of the sickness, but because of the way it was handled. But now schools, businesses, and churches are shutting down. This predictably affects the world economy. Yes, panic is affecting the world economy.

Don’t let words scare you. The word pandemic comes from the Greek pandemos, meaning “pertaining to all people”. Pan means “all” and Demos means “people.” Pandemic simply means the flu isn’t limited to one nation, but has traveled; in this case, worldwide. We might expect this because travel is very accessible these days.

No, getting sick is no reason for fear. But we are watching what we might call pandemonium. Would you like another lesson in etymology? You already know what pan means. Actually, Milton coined the term when he wrote Paradise Lost. He wanted to illustrate a place that was Satan’s Capitol, and he called it Pandaemonium. So pandemonium is literally the place of all demons. And that’s what you get when you allow chaos, confusion, and turmoil to fill up your world.

We have some idea of the people who are spreading the fear and can hypothesize some reasons for it. But it’s a strange state of affairs. And I believe that there is more behind this pandemonium than concern for health.

We have a choice. We can hide and quake and buy obnoxious amounts of whatever we believe we need to survive a long period of time. Or we can do our best to behave rationally, think logically, and live righteously.

Perhaps, should we be facing something yet unknown and just a little scary, we can read Eisenhower’s speech. C’mon now. If those young soldiers could act bravely, so can you. The eyes of the world are upon you.

Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force!

You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have
striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The 
hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. 
In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on
other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war
machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world.

Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well
equipped and battle hardened. He will fight savagely.

But this is the year 1944! Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great defeats, in open battle, man-to-man. Our air offensive has seriously reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on the ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of trained fighting men. The tide has turned! The free men of the world are marching together to Victory!

I have full confidence in your courage and devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory! 

Good luck! And let us beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.


                                            SIGNED: Dwight D. Eisenhower
[photograph: General Eisenhower 'Ike' D-Day message handed out to D-Day troops. Courtesy: Gary Ames.

Source: https://americanmilitarynews.com/2018/06; https://armyofgodspeech.wixsite.com/dday

Spit

Last week we saw clips of the Congressional Prayer Breakfast. What most of us didn’t see were the remarks in context and in their entirety. As with snatches of incomplete news that are so prevalent these days, it led to people calling our President to the carpet for holding up a newspaper telling of the Senate’s vote and saying he didn’t like it when someone used their religion as an excuse to do something they know is wrong or who said, “I’m praying for you” when they really aren’t doing any such thing. Someone claimed the President’s words were a “missed opportunity”.

Arthur Brooks spoke before him with a theme of Jesus teaching us to love our enemies. He noted that marriages can be saved but for one thing: contempt by one partner. I refer you to the last State Of The Union Address.

President Trump, a relatively new Christian, remarked, I don’t know if I agree with you. . . I’m sorry. I apologize. I’m trying to learn. It’s not easy. When they impeach you for nothing and then you’re suppose to actually like them? I don’t think it’s that easy, folks. I’m doing my best. I find such honesty refreshing! For tucked into his honesty is confrontation of wrong.

That’s what we, as Christians, have been stumbling over for nearly half a century now. Keeping our mouths shut, thinking it’s better to ignore evil. (Perhaps if we don’t say anything the other person will realize the error of their ways on their own.) Thinking evil will be overcome with silence. (No harm, no foul.) Closing our eyes and saying love wins. I agree. Love wins, but, to borrow from Inigo Montoya, You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means. It certainly doesn’t mean sidling up to workers of evil and pretending all is well. Thank heavens there’s finally a leader who calls out hypocrisy no matter where it lies. I don’t like people who use their faith as justification for doing what they know is wrong. Nor do I like people who say, ‘I pray for you,’ when they (don’t). Is it possible the new Christian in the White House is doing what the rest of us should have been doing all along and haven’t? I don’t know about you, but it puts me to shame. Blame for the moral mess of our nation lies at the feet of the church.

And instead of encouraging this courageous man, some Christians find it easier to back bite him. Maybe, they think, if I criticize something, it will show I’m fair-minded. It relieves them of having his six. Of doing their best to fight for this country on the brink. All in the name of . . . what? When you’re in a battle is not the time to find fault with the guy fighting next to you.

The U.S.Army Creed says: I am an American Soldier. I am a Warrior and a member of a team. I serve the people of the United States, and live the Army Values. I will always place the mission first. I will never accept defeat. I will never quit. I will never leave a fallen comrade. I am disciplined, physically and mentally tough, trained and proficient in my warrior tasks and drills. I always maintain my arms, my equipment and myself. I am an expert and I am a professional. I stand ready to deploy, engage, and destroy the enemies of the United States of America in close combat.

We might not all be soldiers, but we must be warriors of another kind or this country will continue to descend into a hell the likes of which none of us has imagined. Is that the Christian’s job? You bet your salt and light it is.

Today’s political left doesn’t stand on scripture, it exploits it. It uses scripture to promote a twisted sort of love that accepts evil. And over the years, some Christians have not only not said anything, they’ve encouraged it. Jeremiah 23 has something to say about that. Read it if you dare, and weep if you must.

Christians who don’t recognize the difference between good and evil, can’t draw the important line at hypocrisy. Evil isn’t something to love, but to expose. Jesus looks for repentance from sin. (Not to continue sinning that grace may abound. – Romans 6:1) Scripture confronts us with this question: What communion does light have with darkness? (II Corinthians 6:14)

We also read in the scriptures of how God commanded kings to completely annihilate the enemy. When I was young, that seemed pretty extreme to me. Then I learned about things like cancer.

In fact, we bear witness to plenty of situations during the early life of Israel where things get pretty brutal. I think of the time Gideon told his son, Jether, to kill the two kings who were in front of them. They had killed much of Gideon’s family. But Jether was only a boy and was afraid, so Gideon carried out the judgment. You can read about it in Judges 8.

Is it possible (gasp) that God’s love does not tolerate evil?

Besides telling us to be forgiving and loving, Jesus also says, So, because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth. (Rev. 3:16) That’s right. If we don’t stand on the side of truth and righteousness we’re as good as spit.

The President of our nation has been bullied for over three years without even one day off. Over. Three. Years. That wounds.

Maybe the new Christian in our midst, the one people love to hate and criticize because he defends what is good and fights like a street-fighter, has something to teach the rest of us.

A Cold Cup of Coffee

I recall a discussion I had with some friends years ago about how we thought we should offer a guest something to eat or drink when they walked into our home. Being young and just getting our feet under us, most of us didn’t have much. I remember someone saying something about cinnamon toast. People laughed, but I loved that, because I like cinnamon toast and would gladly eat it at someone’s house. No one has ever offered it, though. Maybe it seems too ordinary.

A persistent little ping on my spirit leads me to write this entry. I’ve got nothing. I’m pretty empty just now as I’ve been insisting to the Lord daily, but the ping is like a knock on the door that is hard to ignore. That same ping led me to write my first musical. I’ll tell you about it sometime. Anyway, I feel a bit like someone who has very little to offer, but is offering it anyway. I’m sitting here with a cold cup of coffee. Lucky you. Yet I think just now that’s what the Lord is asking of all of us. What does each of us have to offer? Let whatever it is that you can offer be your cinnamon toast. Let it be your cold cup of coffee. Do that, because we have a year coming up that will be one for the record books if I don’t miss my guess.

Smoke from the new year’s starter pistol is still drifting upward and already we’ve seen so much that it makes our heads spin. I started listing it all, but it just got depressing, so I deleted it. Were it that simple. Let me just say this. Despite the natural phenomena, newsworthy trouble and personal struggle; despite the news we believe and the news that we shake our heads at, despite everything, we need to address all of it not with more sound, but with silence. Our own. By ourselves. In our own little corner in our own little chair.

What we need just now even more than news or pictures or podcasts or blogs is a time of quiet. Just quiet. And that’s all I really want to say today. We’re all witnessing a mess and it’s going to get messier. But if you read a Bible, you know how to get through this stuff.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (John 14:27) That’s it. Find time every day – even if it’s just ten minutes – and be still. Turn off every noise. And think about how good God is. How powerful and loving. How merciful. And listen. You might feel a ping or maybe something will come to you that God is gracious enough to put in your thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, that’s what He’s been waiting for all along.

And when you get up from your chair, offer someone your version of cinnamon toast.

Kanye and Home Repair

If you had told me even a year ago I would be writing about Kanye West – and favorably – I would’ve suggested you might ask your doctor about an antipsychotic medication. Yet here we are.

This man who was first exposed to pornography at the age of five, who married a beautiful woman whose first claim to fame was a viral sex tape, who interrupted the VMAs to grab Taylor Swift’s award and claim it should go to Beyoncé (I believe Ms. Swift wrote Bad Blood sometime after that.), the rapper/singer whose preferred lyrics were less than noble – this man – is holding worship services that attract thousands – hundreds of thousands and no doubt more, thanks to the internet – who hear the gospel from . . . this man. Waaat?!

To add to God’s sense of humor while we learn our lessons, just as I started writing about this, my computer crashed. I don’t know if that’s the correct term. One day it was working and the next day it wasn’t. I took it to a big box techie place, they diagnosed a motherboard problem, and strongly suggested I buy a new computer. I went home to ponder the situation (i.e. wish things were different and talk it over with my husband).

You see, at the moment the computer decided life was no longer worth living, I was tearing up the bathroom linoleum. That was prompted by an appointment I’d made to

have the living room floor refinished (nearly 30 years of 4 kids and 2 dogs running, playing, and jumping – or, as some would describe it: life, lead to less than stellar floors). Actually, they were pretty awful, especially the one spot that got the most traffic and dog drool. So one project which led to another project blossomed – like a prickly thistle you step on barefoot – into an unwanted third project; a project that lasted nearly a month, I kid you not.

Oh, it didn’t stop there. Once we’d moved the furniture out of the living room, and, believe me, two bookcases complete with books is no small task; after numerous trips to the big box techie store, then phone convos and 2 follow-up trips to an independent computer guy; after installing vinyl flooring (it took an entire week – don’t ask); and, finally, admiring the finished floors, I came to one conclusion. The walls looked dingy.

This brings me back to Kanye West. He and I are worlds apart, but now we are brother and sister in Christ. I am inspired with how he has hit the ground running! He actually puts me to shame, and it hit home hard when I lost use of the computer I should be writing on every day. Computer problems are, for me, like spending a pitch-black night alone in a cemetery is for others. And God slammed me to the wall when I didn’t have the opportunity to do what I should have been doing all along. Is any of this familiar to you?

And I suppose Kanye is discovering, as Christians the world over daily find, that who we thought we were isn’t nearly who we really are. And God, in his kindness, peels back the layers bit by bit. We need a sanding machine here and there and, yes, it can be painful. And we’re delighted to find how wonderfully He is making us over. Until we look a little closer. One project is done only to find how dreadful we are in another area; a part of us that looked perfectly fine before.

I hopefully predict more folks will realize that being washed in the blood of Jesus is more purifying than anything they’ve ever dreamed of. And many of these people will have histories and names few have contemplated would wear the name Christian; but everybody needs Jesus.

I wish Kanye and all new Christians everywhere the best. Read your Bible, pray, go to church. These three things are the Christian healthy food/workout routine with a proven track record. And when someone who you never dreamed would come to Jesus makes a 180, forget and forgive the junk that is being sanded down. Even be a little sympathetic. After all, your walls look like they need a little attention.

 

 

 

 

Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics

Samuel Longhorne Clemens, aka Mark Twain, wrote The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, The Adventures of Hukleberry Finn, and The Prince and The Pauper, among other works. He also is attributed to have used the phrase, “There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics“. He wasn’t the first to say it, though. That credit, as far as I can tell, goes to a man by the name of Leonard H. Courtney who used it in an article he wrote in 1895.

First, statistics. Let’s be honest: There are math people and there are people for whom math brings on a type of catatonic state. I don’t know about you, but I have no affection for statistics. When I took graduate statistics, I broke out in a sweat just doing the homework. I missed an A by 1 point, and, no, the professor didn’t see any reason to change my grade despite my hard work. Because – statistics. He did not grade on a curve and his life was black and white. He wasn’t like the ones alluded to in the above quote. He didn’t dilly dally with numbers. But plenty of people do. Let’s walk down that inviting path for a minute.

A study cited by reporter Wesley Lowery in a 2016 Washington Post article is an example of how statistics can be used to lie – Wesley, not the study. His writing is guilty of flaws that misled readers. “Lowery wrote that ‘black Americans are 2.5 times as likely as white Americans to be shot and killed by police officers’.” He neglected to include the part of the study that notes “Police are 42% less likely to use lethal force when arresting blacks than when when arresting whites, and 59% less likely to use lethal force when arresting blacks for serious violent crimes than when arresting whites for the same crimes.”¹

Or take, for instance the passionate concern about the environment to the degree California now restricts the use of plastic straws, and San Francisco bans them outright.²  With the disgust of our country voiced from both within and without, I’m thinking we produce A LOT of pollution. Until you understand that as far as ocean pollution is concerned, China produces 8.8 million metric tons. So I’m looking . . . 3.2? Nope. 1.8? Nope. 1? Nope. Keep going to the bottom of the list. There it is! The USA is guilty of 0.3. “Tell me again how America is guilty of destroying the environment.”³ Those who use partial statistics are guilty of more than pollution.

Speaking of which, there are all sorts of ways to deceive. Yes, we are now at the part of the quote dealing with lies. Why, there are some organizaitons that belie the truth by just using a nice-sounding name. “Liddle Kidz Foundation Global uses the power of touch to reach the world’s most vulnerable children with experiences of appropriate nurturing touch that they often lack.”4 Isn’t that nice? Except when you realize that they welcome volunteers from a wide net of sources and look at pictures on their material that don’t appear reassuring at all. Congressman Schiff might know something about it since, though it claims an address in Vancouver, its 818 area code number is in his California jurisdiction. Someone should ask him when he’s done giving what is now being called a “dramatized version” of a phone call before the House Intelligence Committee.

Gossip, i.e. second-hand (at best) information about which we have no first-hand knowledge might be considered lying, but it’s tempting, isn’t it? Some people are starting to call it whistle-blowing now, but that’s a disservice to real whistle blowers with real alarms to sound, not those who simply don’t like someone or his politics. I’ll let you travel that path without me for now.

Teaching is a noble undertaking, but when it’s misused to lead students down a path littered with innuendo, it’s nobility takes a wrong turn, a turn that distorts the truth. Stanford University put out an excellent article: “In seeking to understand the current history wars, we might go so far as to say that they have become politics by other means.  American history has been afflicted by presentism, examining our past with 21st century sensibilities and standards.” “We live in a time when we seem to engage in every possible approach to history except to learn from it.  We seek to erase it, cover it over, topple it down, rewrite it, apologize for it, skip it—but not to put it out there to learn from it.” 5 

We’re wading, dear readers, into a dark slough of untruth, the depth of which is bound to drown us. We are, admittedly, living in a time where it’s difficult to discern what’s true and what isn’t. But it is our responsibility to try. And when someone lies once, then again and again and shows no signs of stopping, we need to do the stopping. We need to stop listening to the lies. Who’s guilty? The one who speaks a lie? The one who writes a lie? The one who pays for a lie? Or the one who believes a lie? This is your mother speaking: Stop being lazy and research a thing or two from a source other than your favorite.

While I detest profanity, I am a lover of the truth; and there are actions and words that are – truthfully – damned. When we continue to align ourselves with someone who believes not in the rule of law or justice, but that revenge is a right and says whatever it takes to topple their perceived enemy, truth be damned, we’re treading on dangerous ground. 

If you’re normal, you’ve probably repeated something that you later discovered was false. If you’re good, you corrected it if possible. If you’ve lived a life of deception and wish oh wish oh wish you could fix it, you can repent; not that it undoes the damage you’ve caused, but it does express regret and can even bring forgiveness. But if you lie and repeat others’ lies and do so with a hard heart and without remorse, that, you poor soul, is a damned lie, and be warned – hell’s fire is even more firey than your tongue.

Sources: 1 justfactsdaily.com /new-york-times-spreads-falsehood-that-motivated-murders-of-police/; 2 Eater.com Wall Street Journal and @conservativefun; 4 Whitewatertruth.com, February 19, 2018 by Sandy Whitewater, investigative journalist; 5 Hoover Institution Journal, hoover.org. How Not To Teach American History by David Davenport, Gordon Lloyd. Tue, 9/17/19. Davenport is a research fellow at the Hoover Institution.  Lloyd is a senior fellow at the Ashbrook Center and Dockson Professor Emeritus at the Pepperdine School of Public Policy.; Images: Unsplash.com, -mark-solarski-0R1ci4Rb9jU-; -andrew-neel-a_K7R1kugUE-; -jorgen-hendriksen-uCPQi2dxKAQ-

 
 

This Soldier

On Memorial Day, we often think of black and white pictures of faces from times we’ve only read about. We might consider a newspaper article or item on the nightly news about a soldier who died, though we can’t recall where or when in the next minute. Some citizens have a personal connection to a father or mother, grandfather, uncle or great someone or other whose medal is in someone’s attic.

If we’re conscious enough of the day and our city is, too, we might go to a parade. If we try even harder, we go to a cemetery and listen to a speech, prayer, and song.

The United States Military of today is second to none. They are highly trained professionals. It is more stringent now than in years past. They are the one percent: citizens who choose to defend the country they love, pass the required tests to get in, and demonstrate the resolve, determination, strength, and grit to complete and pass a brutal training process. A surprising number do not make it. Yes, they are the one percent, but their families are ordinary people with an added layer to the usual worries of life.

If you have someone near and dear in the military, Memorial Day goes a little deeper. It is personal. It is close.

At the beginning of your soldier’s training, you belong to groups who help each other through. You learn of plans accomplished or delayed. Someone got their college degree and decided to enlist. Someone has dreamed of this since he was 5. Someone enlisted and told her family afterward, leaving them to adjust quickly and ignore the gut punch. You see question after question about this new life. What does this phrase mean? When does this phase happen? Eyes glaze over from the number of acronyms until you start using them, yourself, as a convenient sort of shorthand. You read many requests asking for prayer for their trainee to pass yet another test. To recover from an injury or sickness. To survive heartbreak. To endure missing important family events: funerals, weddings, graduations, births. To keep going when they’d rather quit. You see many photos of handsome and pretty soldiers and compliment the ones who posted them. You smile at family pictures and can almost hear the exclamations of greeting and laughter and catching up. You cheer every success and graduation.

As time passes,you admire crafts made by hands of someone who is urging their soldier home stitch by stitch, project by project. Maybe you let someone know love is sent their way when they are lonely or worried. You commend every promotion. You read questions about locations of military bases. What are they like? How dangerous is it? You are privy to close calls and near misses. You hear about news of deployment and visceral sickness and worry so heavy it makes it hard to do ordinary things that need doing. Pride and fear become inextricably linked, and heaven is inundated with desperate prayers from all corners of the country at all hours.

And often on those support pages you see the picture of someone’s son or daughter or husband or wife and read that they were killed yesterday. They were killed in a live fire training exercise. They were killed in a roll-over tactical vehicle accident. They were killed in Afghanistan or Iraq or someplace whose name we know, with a few facts we can repeat, but not much else. You recognize a name. A face. And there it is.

Because Memorial Day is so much more than a parade or speech or photo. It is a person you knew. A person whose mother you talked with and whose visits home you celebrated. This soldier is a member of those admired by good people, but personally known by few. And this soldier deserves not just a minute on a day of remembering. He or she merits some time of reflection on his life and dreams, quirky sense of humor, tender letters home, anxious waiting, and desire to do a good thing. This soldier deserves a country’s honor.

See the source image

Images: Unsplash; National Infantry Museum

Just Checking

When you look at your newborn, tiny and soft, with eyes that hold the trust of the ages and hair as soft as down, you wonder how, in an instant, you can protect this little one. You are a mother. Somewhere your subconscious tells you that new title is yours for life. You cannot get enough of soaking in the sight of the little one in your arms.

And through those first weeks at the smallest sound you go over to where your baby is sleeping to check and make sure all is well. And all the years afterward you continue to “just check” and watch that little one grow and become a mixture of what you hope and what you don’t understand. Your child asks you to look. “Look and see what I can do!” Other times they hope you won’t see what they’ve done. And on through the years, the invisible, inescapable pull set in mothers everywhere by the Creator, Himself, is a contrast of welcome and unwelcome.

This Mother’s Day I think of my own mom and I remember . . .

Our dog was giving birth to a litter of puppies in the corner of our dirt floor garage. I was elementary school-aged. My mom had called a friend so she could bring her kids over and we could all watch the miracle of birth together. We huddled together by the garage door and watched Specky during her most personal moments as she ate the membrane and licked each newborn. I was embarrassed while Mom was enthralled, but we watched because she wanted me to learn.

As I drove home through the dark streets, I could see my house lit up and a shadow in the window watching for me. I’d been out with some high school friends drinking pop and talking and laughing. It was nearly midnight. In her mind I’d been kidnapped and was struggling to escape. In my mind whatever it was I faced from imagined kidnappers held nothing to what I faced from my mother.

I carried out a few suitcases and whatever other few things I had to bring, and stashed them all in a friend’s car. I was leaving for college during a time when my residence had one phone that hung on a hallway wall. There were no emails nor texts, and long distance costs were by the call and by the minute. Kids who went to college didn’t have much contact with their parents other than letters and holidays. As we pulled away, I could see my mom in the rearview mirror. She stood in the driveway and watched us until we were out of sight.

I was in my 30’s fulfilling some duty at the front of the church, probably leading worship or some other such role. My mom had, herself, spent her life doing the same thing, though her fingers always made the piano keys sing more sweetly than mine ever did. What can I say? She had a great touch. There was mom sitting in the pew listening and watching with a slight smile. It’s possible she was thinking what could have been done to make the song sound better. It’s probable she would have been right.

When I was in my 40’s, I look up as I inserted the key into the car, and there she was at the window watching to make sure I’d made it safely from her house to my car. Granted, by now her house was in a part of town that, while not riddled with crime, held the potential for occasional trouble. I don’t know how she planned to fight off my attackers.

We’d gotten a pretty good wallop of snow, wet and heavy and high; the kind that lands folks in the hospital with a heart attack. I was feeling my 50 some years as I shoveled the layers to get to the pavement, and as I trudged, out of breath, back to the house to return the shovel to its usual place, I caught a glimpse of my mom. She’d been standing at the window watching me. Still.

Mission: Accomplished

A candle is burning somewhere tonight. It burns to signify a prayer. Or penance. Or the presence of Christ.

Throughout the world, churches burn, too. But unlike a candle, churches are ablaze for an opposite reason. They burn because of hatred of Christianity and the God of love. The true scale of religious violence is unknown, whether it is in Kenya, Turkey, Sudan, China, or France. Countless churches or Christian symbols are vandalized, defecated on, and torched every day. There is a creeping war against everything that symbolizes Christianity whether the attacks are on stone crosses, sacred statues, churches, cemeteries, Bibles, baptismal fonts or the people, themselves. Notre Dame was built in the shape of a cross. That cross was literally burning this week.

Why? Why is there destruction and hostility toward the church? It doesn’t need to puzzle us. When He walked among us, Jesus said, You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.

Jesus knew what would happen. He experienced it first-hand. Yet the God of love extends His mercy, even to the place of the cross. It is the cross – the battered, controversial, and despised cross – that still stands. Despite hateful intent or destruction or fire. And it is our Savior who died there we remember tonight.

Jesus left the glories of heaven to be born a man and experience the grittiness of a perfect life in an imperfect world. He learned and grew just as everyone must do. But when did He realize His mission would take him to the cross?

Luke 2:49 tells of Jesus’ parents searching for him in Jerusalem. They’d lost him! And when they finally found him, he responded not with tears but with a practical statement: I must be about my Father’s business. By that time, Jesus had read Isaiah’s prophecy: But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.

Was he talking with the teachers at the temple about that? He kept reading. He kept thinking and contemplating. Despite the sad prophecy, He didn’t stop.

Rome was in power during Jesus’ life. When he saw Roman crosses along the road, was he considering His sacrifice then? When he learned carpentry from Joseph did they talk about how mangers and crosses were made?

When Jesus taught about entering through the narrow gate that leads to life and staying off the wide road of destruction did he know?  Or when he prayed alone, did he know? Whether He knew exactly what would happen by then or not, we see our Savior continuing to teach, continuing to spend time alone with God.

Clearly Jesus knew trouble would result in even some of the healing he did, because he sometimes instructed those healed to not tell anyone. He wanted to extend his time to call more sinners to repentance. He was on a rescue mission! It was a mission he would not abandon.

But when Jesus told his disciples about the temple being destroyed and raised again in 3 days, He most certainly knew what was coming. He knew of His impending suffering and sacrifice. Yet He didn’t back away from it.

When He set out for Jerusalem, He wasn’t the only one who’d figured it out. Peter tried to talk Him out of it. But Jesus was determined. He had a mission and He would complete it.

By the time what we call Palm Sunday arrived, Jesus rode through what He knew would be fickle crowds of people – praising Him. A day or so later, He allowed Himself to be anointed with expensive perfume at Simon’s house.

Monday was the day Passover lambs were selected, and Monday is when Jesus, the Lamb of God, entered Jerusalem and visited the temple. He drove out all who were buying and selling there; and overturned the cashiers’ tables. He was – so close – to the end. And the desecration of God’s house was disgusting to Him. As it should be to us.

Jewish leaders didn’t like His message. They didn’t like Him. They felt threatened; and though they tried and tried, they found nothing. No crime. They would bring Him down despite that. On Wednesday, Judas conspired to hand Jesus over for 30 pieces of silver. Do you understand what happened? The Savior of the world was betrayed for the price of a slave.

And then it was Thursday. Jesus and His disciples prepared the Passover lamb and ate the Seder meal together. He prayed for them. For unity for them and, yes, for us even all these years later. Then they sang together. How poignant to sing a familiar song one last time.

Jesus came to earth for one reason: to save it. And us. Every. Single. One. He did not run the other way. He did not stop, though it must have been tempting. He put one foot in front of the other, and He fulfilled His awful, terrible, gracious, wonderful mission.

Let’s go there now.

Isaiah 53:5; Images: Pexels.com