Exit Strategy

Posted on February 11, 2014 by Margaret

Our dog Jack has always been a winter dog, and despite him being the doggy-equivalent of 80 years, he can still romp like a puppy when he’s out in the snow. Today while walking him, it struck me that I’ve memorized the various boot-prints of neighbors who are also out dog-walking each day. (Even when it’s fifteen-below, dogs must be walked!)

These days snow boots have all manner of “grid” on their soles, and though I don’t know which person’s prints belong to who, I do see the same patterns in the snow day after day. There are the feet with circle-prints, others with squiggly lines , some with tire-like treads, and one with a sunburst pattern. Although I rarely run into another person while walking Jack, the variety of footprints in the snow testifies to each one having been there.

All of us leave evidence in places we’ve been. Sometimes it’s negative, like when a child fixes a snack and walks away from a messy kitchen. Other times it’s positive, like when my sister hides a Scripture rock for me to find later. Even though she’s long gone when I discover it, her thoughtful persona lingers.

When we look at the verses in Scripture that describe situations where Jesus had just been, we see an interesting consistency.

He left people jumping up and down with joy, or shouting praises to God, or standing speechless and overcome with wonder. He left changed lives in his wake.

How often do I enter a home or other gathering place with any thought to my exit strategy? Since I often have regrets after leaving (should have, would have, could have), apparently not often enough. But it’s not only that.

On those rare occasions when I have left something positive in my wake, it hasn’t always been with sterling motives. Was my goal to remind them of how wonderful I was while I was with them? Or have I tried to leave behind an awareness that a Christ-follower was there? Honestly, my answers aren’t usually good ones.

But Jesus is a perfect tutor on this. He repeatedly modeled the right way to do it, often saying that everything he did was meant to leave behind an accurate impression of God his Father and of his relationship with him as a Son. In Hebrews we read, “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being.” (1:3) A radiance is a glow that lingers, and Jesus passionately wanted us to remember him as the portrayal of a God who desires a personal love relationship with us.

None of us can do as well as Jesus, but wisdom should keep us working at it. Does this mean my pockets should be stuffed with Scripture rocks?

Actually, that’s not a bad idea.

Jesus said, “I do as the Father has commanded me, so that the world may know that I love the Father.” (John 14:31)

What’d ya say?

Posted on February 4, 2014 by Margaret

Fifteen month old Emerald learns a new word virtually every day now, and yesterday she came up with this one: “Gar!”

At first I didn’t know what she meant. When she said it, she was on the kitchen floor focusing on something very small, which turned out to be a rice-sized tidbit of paper. Using her petite thumb and finger, she managed to pick it up and held it high for me to see. “Gar!” she said, smiling broadly.

Though I wished I’d had an interpreter, she let me know what it meant by acting it out. Crawling to the cabinet door under the kitchen sink, she opened it, stood up, and dropped her smidgen of paper into the trash basket there. “Gar!” she said, and of course she meant “garbage.”

It’s an important benefit to any relationship if we can fully understand what a loved one is trying to tell us. But what happens if the words we hear aren’t an accurate representation of the opinion or feelings of the speaker?

Gary Chapman says part of why we misinterpret each other (which can cause arguments, hurt feelings, or confusion) is that different people “speak” in a variety of languages. He calls them love languages, and we hear best when the one communicating with us is “saying” it in our language.

Sadly, when someone tries to explain to us what they’re feeling, we often receive it differently than how they mean it, or at least differently than they think they’re saying it. When that happens, our conversation is headed for trouble.

Learning to be a good listener is tricky. First we have to want to be one, and a prerequisite for that is to willingly set aside our preconceived opinions about the subject at hand, while the other person is talking. This can be a monumental challenge and requires lots of practice. (Take it from someone who has frequently flunked this part.) If, however, we can accomplish that and then listen carefully, our original opinion about the person or their message will probably have changed, and improved communication will be the result.

Working hard to develop good listening and speaking skills has another benefit, too. It trains us to become better at our back-and-forth with God. Thankfully he always knows the perfect language to get through to us, and no matter how inept we might be at our conversational efforts in return, he interprets our heart’s intentions correctly 100% of the time.

Practice may not make us perfect, but it’ll get us closer. As for Emerald, later that same afternoon I followed her back into the kitchen where she was doing some practicing of her own. “Gar!” she said again. And I rounded the corner just in time to see her stuffing a clean dish towel into the trash. Smiling up at me she said, “Gar!”

Maybe the two of us still have room for some conversational improvement.

“If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame.” (Proverbs 18:13)

Joining the Dance

Posted on January 29, 2014 by Margaret

At 5½, Skylar Grace (my oldest grandchild) is forging ahead in the process of exploring new activities. She’s devotedly taking ballet classes and last week demonstrated some pretty smooth moves, naming them as she went: pirouette, arabesque, plie’, bow.

Though I haven’t seen any of her per- formances in person, I’ve watched videos and stills, and do get the drift of all she’s learned. She loves her teacher and is thrilled when it’s time to go to class. Last week I got to drive her there, and as we pulled up to the dance studio she said, “Don’t take me in, Midgee. I can go by myself.”

After she hopped out of the van in her pink outfit and slammed the car door I said, “You sure look cute in your tu-tu!”

Turning back to face me, she put her hand on her hip and said, “Midgee, this isn’t a tutu. It’s a leotard.” And off she went.

Skylar knows her ballet terminology and has been practicing her positions for many months. She’s beginning to evidence genuine grace, because she listens carefully in class and faithfully tries to emulate her teacher’s movements. But ballet is a complex discipline, and if she sticks with it, achy muscles and bloody toes will be part of her experience.

Very few of us are willing to put in the hours necessary to become good at ballet or anything else that’s an uphill climb to learn. We prefer instead to dabble, hoping for quick results, and when it doesn’t happen, we often drop out. Paying the obligatory price to become proficient (hard work over the long haul) quickly becomes distasteful.

Spiritually speaking we sometimes do the same thing, wanting to live blamelessly before God but only dabbling in the discipline it takes to get there. For instance, we might set a goal to memorize one Scripture verse each week but then skip the review process, expecting the words to “stick” anyway.

Or we promise we’ll be honest with God but then refuse to let him have control over one category of our lives. Or we commit to reading the Bible from cover to cover no matter how many years it takes but get bogged down in Leviticus and throw in the towel.

Our worst enemy, Satan, jumps in the way every time we move one step toward the Lord. He’s thoroughly evil, fighting us with invisible weapons we can’t stand up against… unless we use Scripture and prayer. But if we’re determined to work against his deceit by “following hard after God” (as Tozer would say), we’ll become strong in our faith and will still be standing at the end of his tests, maybe even up on our toes.

Maybe we should simply copy Skylar’s example in ballet class: listen carefully, follow the leader, and practice all the moves. And if we get “bloody toes” in the process, we shouldn’t let that stop us.