Dogged Determination

Posted on March 1, 2015 by Margaret

Our dog Jack loves the snow. His bear-like coat makes summers difficult, but once cold weather arrives, he’s a contented canine. Despite his waning energy and joint pain, he’s always up for a walk outdoors and often balks at going back in, even in sub-zero temps.

If I was Jack, snow would frustrate me. After all, dogs love to “catch a scent,” and taking a walk in a snow-covered neighborhood doesn’t leave much for a nose to do. That, however, doesn’t stop Jack.

Knowing the good smells are under there somewhere, he plunges his muzzle into one drift after another with dogged determination. And without coming up for air, he enjoys nosing around beneath a foot of snow until we finally tug on his leash, coaxing him to continue walking. His face comes up covered with snow as if to say, “Hey, I’m busy here!”

I admire Jack’s tenacity. He knows what he’s after and is willing to dig deep to get it. I wish I had that same dogged determination in my quest for more of God.

Back in the 1970’s there was a phrase of “Christian-ese” popular in youth groups around the country. A teen who was fully committed to Christ was said to be “following hard after God.” It meant his highest priority was to learn more about the Lord and how to obey him fully.

Recently I discovered that “following hard after God” didn’t originate in the ‘70’s after all, but was part of A. W. Tozer’s book, The Pursuit of God, written in 1948. His first chapter is titled, “Following hard after God,” a discussion of the deep satisfaction that comes in seeking God above all else. He says the results of such a pursuit include unique manifestations of Christ that can’t be had any other way.

From Tozer I learned that the expression “following hard after God” wasn’t original with him, either. He found it in the King James Version of the Bible: “My soul followeth hard after Thee.” (Psalm 63:8)

These were the words of David while he on the run in the wilderness, feeling an intense need for God. He wrote that he was “thirsty” for him, recognizing that “following hard after him” was his only hope. Pursuit of God was #1, and as we see his life played out in Scripture, his thirst for God was deeply satisfied.

In Jack’s pursuit of earth-scents, he isn’t exactly pursuing God. But he’s doing what God made him to do, which brings him deep satisfaction. And I know that if I would faithfully pursue God with that same dogged determination, my gains would be even greater than his.

“You, God, are my God; earnestly I seek you; I thirst for you, my whole being longs for you. Your love is better than life. I will praise you as long as I live. I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods.” (Parts of Psalm 63)

Who, What and When

Posted on February 25, 2015 by Margaret

One of the problems of having 7 children is trying to remember who I told what, when.

(Left to right: Nelson, Hans, Lars, Klaus; Linnea, Louisa, Birgitta)

For example, I might be planning a trip and tell one of my children about it as we’re conversing in my kitchen: “On such-and-such a date, I’m going to visit so-and-so.”

Then, while texting with another child later that day, I might send a similar message. The next day I might have a phone conversation with another one and say the same. Gradually the word spreads: “On such-and-such a date, Mom’s going to visit so-and-so.”

But then, after I’ve gone, sure as shootin’ one of my grown kids will say, “Where’s Mom? She hasn’t been home for 2 days!” That’s when a sibling will say, “Don’t you remember? She went on a trip.” Then the uninformed will respond with, “She never told me.”

That’s when one of the others will say, “Well, she told me 3 times.”

These days, iPhones make group-informing easier, but for many years remembering to let all 7 adult children know my plans was a chronic problem. Occasionally one of them would actually miss a family gathering because, “No one told me!” It was an awful dilemma.

I failed at communicating like this again recently, and today as I was chastising myself, God comforted me by reminding me of something special: “Remember, I’ll never do that to you.”

One of the Lord’s awesome characteristics is that he relates to each of his children one-on-one every time he wants to communicate something. It’s as if each of us is an only child, his only child. But that isn’t all.

Simultaneously, while relating to one of us at a time, he’s also keeping track of his personal interactions with every person who lives on the earth. And it doesn’t stop there, because he’s also one-on-one with those who’ve died and are already living in Paradise with him… from the first-ever man and woman through to today.

Thus, the total number of his one-on-one relationships is astronomical, yet he is continually keeping careful track of each one, what he’s told, what he hasn’t.

My 7 children have good reason to wonder if they’re missing out on something I’ve told the others but not them. But God’s children don’t ever have to feel insecure about that. He’ll never fail to let us know everything we need to know.

This is reassuring, especially when I’m waiting to hear from him and don’t. I can be encouraged by picturing my Heavenly Parent looking me straight in the eyes and telling me the important stuff. And if I still have lingering questions or am craving more info, I should remember that I don’t have it only because I don’t yet need it. He’ll tell me when his timetable says he should.

He won’t ever forget to inform me. And if I miss the details, it’ll only be because I didn’t remember what he already said.

“Then I remembered what the Lord had said.” (Acts 11:16)

Please stay.

Posted on February 11, 2015 by Margaret

While Emerald happily played with my button collection and a couple of muffin tins, I studied something else in the mix: my husband’s shirt stays.

Nate liked his business shirts starched till they were almost stiff. When we were first married and he was still a law school student, washing and ironing the all-cotton shirts of that era wasn’t high on his agenda. So he wore a professionally laundered/starched shirt every day. When I hugged him, he crinkled.

Gradually I convinced him to let me do his laundry, and a bit of spray starch with an iron seemed to work just as well. Most of his shirts were button-down at the collar. Those tiny little buttons, almost too small for man-sized fingers, kept collars perfectly straight. But eventually cotton button-downs morphed into button-free collars on shirts made of soft perma-press fabric. That’s when the stays came in.

Each collar corner had a tiny narrow pocket sewn into it, just big enough for a plastic stay. Those collar points would then stay perfectly flat and stiff…. without any starch.

Over the years I found scores of these stays in the bottom of my wash machine after Nate or I would forget to remove them before washing his shirts. That, apparently, was why they were made of indestructible plastic.

As I fingered those stays today I thought about how nice it would be if we had something like body-stays to help us stand up straight and defy gravity’s tug over years of time. Even better than that, though, would be spiritual stays.

If we had those, there’d be no such thing as backsliding in our faith or losing our first-love enthusiasm for the Lord. We’d never feel blue over a discouraging situation, because nothing could “wrinkle” our bright hope in Christ. In other words, our spiritual stays would work to keep our faith from “wilting,” no matter what was going on around us.

Of course if we consulted God about this, asking for the equivalent of spiritual stays, he’d probably say, “You already have the one spiritual stay you need, the one I gave you years ago. It’s actually a collection of stays that far surpasses even the biggest collection of buttons.

“They come in the form of my words, and they’re kept not in a baggie with buttons but in the safety of the Bible. If you tuck several of them into each of your days, responding to life according to what they say, your faith will never wrinkle or wilt. And if you’re willing to ‘stay’ with Me in that way, I’ll always ‘stay’ with you.”