Choking Hazards

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I bought my granddaughter a jewellery-making kit with 25,000 colourful beads. When I took it out to wrap for her birthday, I thought a while, then put it back in the closet and bought her something else. I was pretty sure she would like it, that was not the problem. The problem? A little sister who got into everything and sometimes put those things in her mouth. Depending on a child’s age this box contained either 25,000 pieces of potential pretty jewelry or 25,000 potential choking hazards.

I was also an eldest child. I know what it’s like to have younger kids’ needs veto mine, but I looked at my granddaughter’s harried mother and her incredibly curious toddler sister and decided to choose safety this time.

But it bugged me. It wasn’t just the memories of having to forego activities because of offendable siblings (because as a mother and grandmother I’ve done this many times without complaint); this time it triggered something else. I realized it represented another problem I am struggling with – when potential choking hazards limit older believers’ spiritual growth, when topics are kept simple to avoid offending people who are still toddlers in their spiritual growth (and I do love toddlers).

Many years ago I volunteered to help a large family. I assumed the mother must really like kids to have so many.

“Actually it’s the babies that I love,” she told me. “When they start getting independent my arms feel empty. I just adore cuddling babies. I can’t imagine home without little ones. They are so much easier to manage than teenagers. If they don’t want to move you just pick them up and move them yourself.”

I looked around. This home was completely centered on the needs of the youngest children. No potentially dangerous toys or tools and definitely no boxes of beads or junior chemistry sets. The older children were expected to look after the younger.  Some of them were remarkably responsible. But some of the teenagers were unhappy and rebellious. No one had time to encourage their individual interests and talents or listen patiently to questions that would lead to long that-depends kinds of conversations. They were set adrift to learn on their own. Some of the older kids did not fare well. They left home as soon as they could, but lacked preparation for life outside the nursery.

I realized that some church communities I have been part of could be a bit like this. When the emphasis is on producing new Christians and teaching them only to the point where they can turn around and serve the needs of the less mature, a kind of stunted growth becomes the norm for some and restlessness begins to emerge in others. Often those who fit into the niche of evangelism and service giftings are happy. Often those who tend to pose hard questions are not.

Service is a very worthwhile undertaking. The problem arises when older “children” in the family lack the opportunity to go beyond the basics, to learn about and explore everything Jesus said and the apostles taught, when they are expected to be satisfied with milk because meat is a choking hazard. They don’t develop discernment because the messy stuff and complicated stuff is kept on a high shelf in the back of the closet, or out of the house completely. The result is often apathy, vulnerability to the world’s philosophy, learned helplessness, and a whole bunch of people dependent on an overworked pastor/parent figure who is just trying to maintain a safe environment where everyone can play nicely.

The writer of Hebrews expresses it this way when trying to explain a deeper understanding of Christ-centered faith: We have much to say about this, but it is hard to make it clear to you because you no longer try to understand. In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil. Therefore let us move beyond the elementary teachings about Christ and be taken forward to maturity… (Hebrew 5:11-14; 6:1 NIV)

Some of the “elementary teachings” mentioned later in this chapter are not even taught as basics in a lot of church family circles these days. More complex concepts can’t be packaged in a Sunday morning twenty-minute sermon or a week day Bible study with accompanying fill-in-the-blank, tell-me-what-the-author-thinks-verse-six-means study guides. Some questions have answers that require years-long conversations and don’t fit into blanks designed for one sentence. Not even close.

Research shows that a large category of people leaving institutional churches are the ones who have served for years. They are actually looking for more God. (A.B. Simpson called it “The Deeper Life” and in his day had to leave the established church in which he was ordained to pursue it.) These folks are not saying “I’m done with faith.” They love the Church – the body of Christ, the family of God. They are just saying,  “Hey, wait a minute. Is this the glorious church, or is there more, Lord?” They often feel torn between love for family and a drive to pursue more.

If you’re looking for an answer to the question of how to be considerate of people yearning to learn and grow to maturity as well as nurturing new believers vulnerable to choking on hazards or frightened by voices who don’t agree, I don’t  have one – only more questions: What is love? What does grace look like in a household of faith? When do we emphasize security and when do we exemplify freedom? How does honour build everyone up to become God’s temple of living stones?

All I know is that a loving family is concerned about making disciples and equipping all its members to be everything God intended them to be. And we have room to improve.

Days of Preparation

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The horse is prepared for the day of battle,
    but the victory belongs to the Lord.

(Proverbs 21:31 NLT)

This morning Facebook reminded me of an old post I wrote when my granddaughter was about three years old. I enjoyed her ability to give directions around her city when I was babysitting for a few days.

“Go past the tower (tall building) and wait for the green light. Then turn and go past Costco and there it is – Walmart!”

This amused me, so when we needed groceries after her swimming lessons I asked for directions to Superstore.

“Nana, have you been to Superstore before?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Then look into your memory and you can find the way there all by yourself.”

Today I face another battle where the odds are seemingly against me. I’m doing much better at avoiding panic this time, but I needed this prompt to remind me to look into my memory and acknowledge the times when we did all we could – and it was not enough. But God took what ever preparations we made and did something greater than we ever could have imagined.

Resting in the Lord is not about passively flopping on the ground and awaiting rescue. We pick up our five smooth stones, gather as many empty vessels as we can, prepare a sacrifice on an altar, stand before Pharaoh’s armies with nothing but a stick, march around a city seven times, pick up our beds, walk all the way to Damascus to pray for a guy who wants to kill us. We make preparations, we prepare the horse for the day of battle (again), but we know that the victory belongs to the Lord.

That’s resting in the Lord too.

 

All Along

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This is a photo taken by my three-year old granddaughter. I think it’s rather good. Her subject is something important to her: her dancing feet and her ruby slippers.

We watched part of The Wizard of Oz together. In the story the sparkly red shoes the girl was given had the power to take her home but she had not realized it. My granddaughter was enamoured with Dorothy’s shoes because they looked just like a pair I bought her for Christmas. No whining and crying in the store asking for the latest movie merchandise. She already had them. She had been dancing in them all along.

Yesterday I read something Jesus said about the generous father’s heart in the story of the prodigal son.  He went out to his oldest son, the one who was upset that Dad threw a party and gave honour to his self-centered, self-indulgent, immature younger brother. The Father appealed to him to be gracious to his brother when he complained that he had never had a party. “Don’t you know that everything I have is yours already?”

I also read something Jesus said about his cousin, John the Baptist, the guy who had set the entire country on it’s ear.

“Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” (Matthew 11:11)

As those who have who hold the Bible in high regard do we take him seriously? I have skipped over that verse so many times because it seemed too good to be true. But Jesus appealed to us to believe him. Truly I say…

Sometimes we fail to notice that the ruby slippers, and the power they have, are right there on our feet already. We can travel for miles looking for someone to rescue us without realizing that if we have been adopted into God’s family we have access to everything He has for us already.

We can feel thoroughly put out when we see those who have not worked nearly as hard or shown even a fraction of the self-control we have exerted receive visible signs of God’s grace and favour. Like the resentful older brother and the frightened Dorothy we have not yet begun to imagine everything we need has already been provided.

Do you know who you are?

Truly. Do you have any idea?

 

Poopyface!

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I could hear the hollering from out on the deck where I was watering flowers. I didn’t need to run to see if there had been an accidental amputation. The door flung open and our little grandson howled, “She called me a poopyface!”

She — the accuser of the brother and temporary devil’s advocate in disguise — was his pretty little sister and now she was sitting on the couch, happily in possession of the iPad abandoned by her brother in his frantic search for justice.

“And are you?” I asked.
“Are I what?” he said, wiping tears with the back of his hand.
“A poopyface.”
“No! I am not!”
“Let me check.”

I examined that handsome little face he held up to me and sniffed it dramatically.

“No, indeed you are not. If you were I would tell you and we would clean it up right away, but you are as good-looking and good-smelling as ever. You are not a poopyface, so what she said means nothing. She just wants to upset you. Don’t give her the satisfaction. Ignore her and she will leave you alone.”

He went back in the living room and announced, “I am not a poopyface and hey! You can’t have the iPad. I was using it.” Amazingly she gave it back without a fight.

Earlier all three of us had been playing dinosaurs in the garden. T-Rex was always lurking, ready to harass a hapless parasaurolophus just minding his own business. But our parasaurolophus and triceratops knew how to flee such threats, jumping geraniums and running through the giant lobelia forests to get away.

One of the ways our peace can be stolen is when the accuser of the brethren ambushes us and distracts us from our true identity – essentially calling us “poopyface.” Look at that disgusting stuff in your life. Everyone can see it and smell it a mile away! Did God really forgive you, because you look like a poopyface to me!

When we go running to the Lord he says, “You are clean and beautiful.” More than that he tells us who we are in his eyes. In the first couple of chapters in Ephesians alone we find his reassurances. This who you are now:

You are blessed
You are chosen
You are holy
You are blameless
You have a destiny
I have adopted you (in that culture adoption meant being made a partner in the family business with full signing authority, as one who represented the father)
You are lavished with grace
You are wise
You have understanding
You are for My praise and glory (I’m proud of you)
You are sealed in Christ
You are saved
You have a guaranteed inheritance
You can have a spirit of wisdom and revelation, enlightened eyes, knowing hope
You are raised from the dead
You are seated with Christ in heavenly places
You are greatly loved by Jesus
You are made alive in Christ
You are being prepared to receive My incomparable riches
You are My masterpiece (my poema – poem)
You are part of one new man, eligible for all the promises given to the chosen people
You are under My peace
You are called for a purpose

And according to his words in the book of Peter you are a royal prince or princess and a fully qualified priest granted permission to come into the holy presence of God – because the Creator of the universe absolutely adores you.

Have you been accused of being less than who Jesus says you are? Wipe your tears and go get your stuff back. Don’t let anyone steal your identity. You are no longer a miserable orphan sinner who has to try to live by your wits and create a purpose for yourself. Know the truth and let it set you free.

 

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The Hope of Glory

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Saints of old the promise heard

and clung to the prophetic word.

For so long, by faith perceived,

the hope was given

and by faith received.

And they believed.

They believed.

They believed

in Christ in you,

the hope of glory.

I’ve been thinking of the people who were mentioned in the book of Hebrews as examples of great faith. They were also examples of great imperfections and the Bible doesn’t gloss over that. What strikes me this time is that none of them lived long enough to see the plan of God play out in the time and place they journeyed through. Faith is actually easier for us because so much more has been revealed to us than they had access to at that time.

My grandparents left everything behind seeking a better future for their children in a new land. They struggled to survive and never saw the promises fulfilled in their shortened life-times. How could they, who never had a washing machine or indoor plumbing, ever have imagined that one of their grandchildren would be on the team of engineers that invented the Canada Arm on the space shuttle – a crucial part of the exploration of the skies? But still they sacrificed to bring it about.

I wonder if I have faith to believe for prophecies beyond my life-time. There are bright and beautiful promises I can see from here, but I don’t know the timing or exactly how they will play out. This I know, the saints before me received hope by faith and it was accounted to them as righteousness. They walked in the hope. By faith I walk in the promise of hope that the light will grow brighter and brighter and the glory of Christ in my children’s children’s children will shine with a brilliance beyond my greatest imaginings.

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Prayerness

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His Daddy asked each of the children to tell him three things they liked about Mommy so he could write it in her birthday card. I like this habit they are developing in the children. On birthdays now, even for the adults, we go around the table and everyone expresses something they see in the person of honour – a character quality, an improvement or a promising bit of potential. One of the observations our four-year old grandson wanted his Dad to write down as a message to Mommy was, “I like your prayerness.”

I love it. Prayerness. Prayer is not just something you do; prayer is a state of being.

Why did I choose one of my photos of fire today? Lately, with all the extreme cold of winter, some people are experiencing furnace problems. The pilot light (flame) has gone out. The furnace won’t work. Some of our friends depend on wood heat. If they sleep too long without stoking the wood stove the fire goes out and the whole thing has to be re-kindled and built up again.

Prayerness, a constant state of being in connection with God, the source of all light and power, essentially keeps the fire burning. It keeps our hearts from growing cold. That’s why we are told to pray for those people who are a source of annoyance (or worry) in our lives – because you can’t maintain the warmth of caring without prayer. We become cold-hearted, detached. Without prayer we rely on our own resources, which have a shelf-life. With prayerness we don’t have to go looking for Jesus when we have a question or a crisis. We’re already connected.

Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.

(Romans 12:12)

I love it when a four-year old preaches.

Happy Monday Morning!

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I love the way little kids can’t wait for the day to begin. We had a family gathering last week and my little five year old grandson was amazed that I could still be asleep at 6:45 a.m. He and his buddy, Harvey the bull dog, jumped on me with an affectionate early morning enthusiasm I haven’t experienced for a few years. Harvey even gave my ears a good licking. It wasn’t long before the other kids were wrestling on my air mattress and in my sleeping bag because that’s what they were designed for, right?

The next morning I was helping two of the kids get ready for school when one of them noticed the brilliant rosy dawn out the window. I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo as a school bus went by, driving into the sunrise.

I’ve decided to adopt their attitude. It’s Monday! It’s morning! We can get up and sing Raffi’s brush-your-teeth song ch ch chch ch chchch ch!  Or for my taste, Stuart Townend’s “Christ Be in My Waking.”

Thank you, Lord. It’s good to be alive!

 

We Could Ask the Flowers

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I still had some flowers in the garden on Sunday, but by Wednesday the blossoms bowed under the snow — frozen solid. I hate to see the flowers die. I grieve for them every autumn.

My granddaughter, a few weeks before her fourth birthday, made a profound observation about the flowers dying. It was profound, because only a few weeks later her Daddy lay dying.

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This is what her Mommy wrote:

Every time I left Bruce, I felt like I left half of me at the hospital. It felt wrong to leave him, like my being there would somehow make all the difference, but every time I was at the hospital, I felt like I should be at home with my children, making life feel as normal as possible, playing and laughing so they wouldn’t have to be worried about Daddy. No matter where I was, I didn’t feel like I was in the right place…

My kids never knew the severity of what was going on. At two months, two-and-a-half years, and barely four years old, I didn’t think it would be good for them to know that Daddy could die.

I recalled a conversation Keziah and I had shared not long after baby Vivia was born. A warm chinook wind had peeled back the blanket of snow in the park, and we were able to get outside for a little stroll. As we walked past an old flower bed, she looked up at me and said, “We don’t know what it feels like to be dead. That’s a’cause we’ve never been dead before so we don’t know how it feels.”

She looked at me for agreement. I nodded.

She went on, “And if you’re dead, then you’re dead and you can’t tell anyone a’cause you’re dead.”

She paused and thought about it for a few minutes, while shuffling her heavy winter boots down the sidewalk.

“But maybe we could ask the flowers a’cause they die every winter so they know how it feels…Too bad they don’t have mouths, or they would prolly tell us!”

I remember thinking at the time, What three-year old thinks about death? And now I wondered, What three-year old thinks about being raised from something that looks like death?

-from While He Lay Dying by Bruce and Lara Merz  (available here)

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Time with Daddy
Time with Daddy – Perspective

My eyes were barely focusing when the bedroom door opened and the questions began. Our grandchildren visited us this week (bringing their parents along for the ride.)

Can we make cookies like last time?

Will you draw me more ice skating paper dolls?

Can I watch a movie on your computer?

Can I make a castle out of Lego?

Can you sew me a dress today?

Can I pick the strawberries yet?

Can we go to the toy store?

Do you still have ice cream in your fridge?

Can we go on a picnic in the forest?

We did a lot of those things, but when I learned the African Children’s Choir was going to be in town I knew they would enjoy going to hear them. The problem was that they didn’t know they would enjoy going. They had  never been to a concert before. They had no grid for this experience. I showed them YouTube clips of the choir, but they still weren’t convinced -until we were sitting in the front row of a large local church – and then the choir children ran in and sang and drummed and danced their way into our hearts. Our five-year-old granddaughter begged permission to sit on the floor at the foot of the stage. It wasn’t long before she was up and moving to the music. Although, from time to time, she shyly checked out the very white, very sedate audience sitting neatly in rows behind her, the desire to dance and sing along almost burst out of her. Her three-year old brother never blinked as he studied the amazing young drummers, his hands moving quietly in his lap.

Their joy gave me joy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QQroe-WOkPw

Later our granddaughter said, “I wonder if God wants me to be a singer?” All the way home from the Canada Day celebrations in the park (another happy new experience) she sang, unselfconsciously, in a strong, pure, totally in tune voice, “Bless the Lord, oh my soul, worship His holy name. Sing like never before, oh my soul, I worship Your holy name!”

She made me smile so hard my face hurt.

I was wondering what to write about after they left. I felt the Lord telling me to rest; he would give me a topic. (Two very active pre-schoolers and an 18 month old intrepid explorer in a house that is not child-proofed anymore make me aware of my age.)  When I woke up from my nap I had a message from a former student I haven’t seen nearly often enough. She talked about something important she realized about prayer, that prayer is not about changing the will of God so that he will grant us our requests; rather prayer is knowing that we are his beloved children and spending time with him brings our will into alignment with his. I thought of the privilege we have of being part of God’s family and being able to call him Abba -Daddy. I thought of the kids and the African Children’s Choir experience. Yes. It all fits.

Any relationship requires effort (some would even say work) but where love is, that effort is a pleasure. I adore my grandchildren and they seem to enjoy being with me. (“Daisy” packed her suitcase and had it sitting by the front door two days before it was time to leave for Nana’s house.) My friend’s post reminded me that as we make an effort to spend time getting to know the God who loves us much more purely than a grandmother ever could, we begin to understand who he is and who he says we are. Prayer -spending time with him- is not a burdensome chore. It is pleasure. We may ask him for a thousand things, and he hears us and gladly responds, but he  often has even better ideas. He wants to give us more than we ever imagined. He gives us grace to reach our potential because he knows the desires he has already placed in our hearts. He just wants us to come and talk to him and listen to him.

So, sing like never before, oh my soul, and worship his holy name!

A Little Child Shall Lead Them

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“You know what, Nana? Leaders need helpers. A leader needs helpers cuz if they don’t have helpers they don’t have anyone to lead.”

I was playing dolls with my four-year old granddaughter when she said this out of the blue. I don’t know where it came from; perhaps she was processing what it meant to have a turn being “the helper” at preschool, but knowing the Lord’s love of revealing wisdom to children he may have just been joining us on the living room floor.

I have myself been processing what leadership and helpership mean in the context of learning to submit to one another (Ephesians 5:21).

Am I the only one who has images of whips and ridiculous leather costumes or Inquisitor’s tools pop unbidden into my less than pure mind when I hear the word “submission?”

Am I the only one who is embarrassed by what non-Christians must see when they look at competitiveness and ambition between “ministries” seeking more bums in seats?

Am I the only one who tires of authoritarian-style leadership where the gulf between platform people and audience people grows wider?

Am I the only one who groans at the disrespect and harsh criticism of people in the public eye lobbed by self-labeled experts who have no actual relationship with those they seem to need to fix?

Am I the only one who cringes when I hear another stern message that lords anatomy over character and calls for people making up half the population of the world to sit down and shut up without mentioning their own obligation to submit to one another and to love sacrificially like Jesus?

Am I the only one to sigh with disappointment when members of that population lob scathing incendiaries right back?

Am I the only one who tires of arguments about who merits the role of leader -or leader of leaders- in a hierarchical system that places official credentials above the ability to love -or on the other hand, the ability to demonstrate well-intended kindness above both knowledge of the scriptures and the character of God in an intimate relationship with the Holy?

Who is a leader in the big C Church?

Perhaps a leader is someone who helps his or her helpers.

No doubt there is a need for leadership. In the days of Judges when everyone “did what was right in their own eyes” not many people “did right” by others and me-first divisions resulted in all sorts of nastiness. Paul wrote that not many should strive to become teachers realizing that a higher degree of accountability would be applied to teachers, but implied that some definitely should become teachers like Priscilla and Aquila whom he honoured. He also gave lists of qualities to look for in leaders and the kind of gifts needed in leadership (none of which were of any use without the essential qualification of the ability to love). The Bible states clearly that consideration, honour and respect (including, in some cases, financial respect) ought to be given to leaders.

I heard a recognized leader (one who promotes others above himself) say that all sorts of people from unexpected (usually anti-Christian) backgrounds were showing up at their gatherings. His response? “Everyone is welcome! Not everyone gets to preach.”

A man I admire asked me to proof-read his resumé when he applied for a position as lead pastor of a church. I was impressed that he said, essentially, “These are my gifts, and these are not.”

“When it comes to [one area in particular],” he wrote light-heartedly, “I believe in the priesthood of believers and raising up others ready to use their gifts.” He went on to say, “I do not own the pulpit and if someone in the congregation is demonstrating a gift for building up others through public speaking, I will encourage them to do so.” Then he added, “I believe in the priesthood of all believers, but not in the leadership of all believers -until they are equipped.”

Who determines when leaders are ready? A board of examiners from the school for hoop-jumpers? Well for some this might be the process God chose for them to learn to give up their own desires and to go the second mile. For others such methods become a way to disqualify those not intellectually-oriented enough to attend seminary, but who still have a lot of wisdom to share. While recognizing and respecting a dire need for teachers with the calling to study and to teach accurately, I seriously wonder if the Lord meant  leadership to be confined to those with the ability to be sermonizers.

I don’t know who said this (care to help me here?) but I love this quote: A man who leads when no one follows is going for a walk.

I wonder if a true leader is chosen by those who, by a willingness to help him or her, demonstrate the willingness to follow. I wonder if a willingness to both lead and follow is the result of the willingness to be helped. I wonder if recognizing a leader is recognizing in someone the ability to raise others up to become leaders themselves by helping to develop whatever gifts God has placed in them.

My little granddaughter taught me to play a new game I was not familiar with. I helped her set up the board and the cards when she showed me where they went. She had no problem respectfully correcting me when I did something wrong. I had no problem submitting to her leadership. She was the expert here. When we were finished the game, she submitted to my expertise and helped set the table to get ready for a meal featuring her favourite entré , macaroni and cheese. Helpers helping helpers. Leaders submitting to each other.

A little child shall lead them.

Thank you, Abba, that You reveal yourself in whomever You choose. No wonder Jesus did a happy dance when He saw You do this.

At that moment Jesus himself was inspired with joy, and exclaimed, “O Father, Lord of Heaven and earth, I thank you for hiding these things from the clever and the intelligent and for showing them to mere children! Yes, I thank you, Father, that this was your will.” (Luke 10:21 Phillips)