Difficult Directions

Posted on March 29, 2015 by Margaret

All of us drive absent-mindedly once in a while, especially if we’re moving along familiar roads. But when we’re in new territory, we have to depend on the signs to be accurate.

A while ago I was on an unfamiliar 5-lane street during rush hour in heavy traffic when I came upon something strange. At the edge of a strip-mall parking lot, a stop sign seemed out of place and was confusing drivers on the main thoroughfare. Were they supposed to stop? Some were. Others weren’t. And cars leaving the mall parking lot were entering traffic without so much as a pause.

I turned into the lot and found a parking spot, then walked back to the stop sign for a better look. Sure enough, it had been tampered with, swiveled 90 degrees, causing drivers to do the opposite of what they were supposed to do.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Early this morning, while trying to get my heart ready for Palm Sunday, I thought about the traffic flow into Jerusalem that day 2000 years ago. Of course it was mostly foot-traffic then, though there was one very important donkey with the Son of God sitting on it.

When adoring crowds pushed toward Jesus in a type of Jerusalem rush-hour, there was no impatience or road rage, only joy and adoration. His miracles of healing had shown people he could do things no one else could do, and everyone on the Jerusalem road that day was deferring to him as part of a plan to make him their king.

There were no stop signs, and popular enthusiasm was propelling Jesus in a forward direction. A few days later, however, the “directional signs” had been swiveled around. The zeal to make him king had come to a screeching halt, and the mob of well-wishers had turned on him.

Thankfully one person continued in a forward direction anyway, despite discouraging signs all around him. Jesus resolutely drove himself toward the cross and his own excruciating death while his supporters hightailed it in other directions. But instead of being influenced by the reversal of the traffic flow, he looked only to his Father for a definitive sign of what to do.

Although Jesus had been to Jerusalem many times, he knew this visit would be different than all the others. He dreaded it but continued his forward pace anyway.

Sitting in church this morning, I was flooded with appreciation that even when he could have made a turn, he resolutely kept going straight ahead, all the way to Calvary.

“He steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:51)

Seeing Eye-to-Eye

Posted on March 25, 2015 by Margaret

A week ago while I was visiting Linnea and her family of 6 in Florida, I marveled at how she got so much accomplished each day. Maybe that’s because she’s a goal-setter and a list-maker, but I think it’s more about knowing that her life as a wife and mother is a high calling.

I enjoyed watching Linni deal with 4 young children, home-schooling 2 and keeping careful track of the others. Somehow she manages to spend one-on-one time with each of them, each day.

Of greatest interest to me was her method of discipline, probably because I was never much good at that as a young mom. When Linnea was about to reprimand one of the kids, she’d always start the same way. Bending down to their level she’d say, “Skylar (or Micah or Autumn), look at me.”

The child might take a quick glance at Linnea’s face but then, inevitably, would look away, knowing that whatever was coming next wouldn’t be good. But Linni wouldn’t deliver her message before she’d gotten their full attention. “Look at my eyes,” she’d say again. “Here,” pointing to her eyes. “Look here.”

The child often took another quick peek but then repeatedly looked away until Linnea absolutely insisted. “Eyes,” she’d say. “Right here,” pointing to her own. When finally both pairs of eyes locked in, she’d “deliver the goods.”

God does the same thing with the rest of us. Though I can never physically look him in the eyes, I can always “see” what he’s trying to tell me through what Scripture says. But watching Skylar, Micah, and Autumn automatically look away from Linnea was a powerful object lesson for me.

How often do I do the same thing with the Lord, glancing left or right or even worse, right past him, pretending not to notice he wants me to pay attention? Of course trying to dodge the gaze of the Almighty is ridiculous, even more so than children trying to avoid their mother’s eyes.

The Lord goes to great lengths to connect one-on-one with us. And thankfully he perseveres, because he has important things to say. The only way to move forward in the Christian life is to listen to him and then heed his words.

Hebrews 12 offers a warning: “Be careful that you do not refuse to listen to the One who is speaking,” meaning Jesus. (v.25) Even if we know his message is going to be one of rebuke or correction, we can take comfort in knowing his discipline comes from a heart of love. (vv.5-6) So there’s never reason to fear receiving his focused attention.

As for Linnea’s children, one day they’ll thank her for taking the time and making the effort to always look them in the eyes.

“Let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus….” (Hebrews 12:1-2)

Don’t wait.

Posted on March 24, 2015 by Margaret

Dad always used to say, ”If a blizzard comes in December, January, or February, shovel it up quickly. Otherwise you could be slipping and sliding on it until March. But if a blizzard comes in March, don’t worry about it. It’ll melt away on its own.”

Yesterday we had a blizzard in my neighborhood. It was two days after the start of spring, and thinking of Dad’s words, I didn’t even get my shovel out of the shed. But I probably should have looked at my iPhone’s weather app.

Last night we went down to 15 degrees, and this morning our 5″ of snow was crunchy, slippery, and very difficult to walk on with hard ice underneath. As Birgitta struggled up the front walk carrying Emerald today, I felt bad that I hadn’t shoveled.

Dad’s rule has proven true over the years, maybe 95% of the time. But this blizzard was an exception. And it reminded me of times in my history when I’ve had a crispy cold heart toward certain situations or, in some cases, toward certain people.

It’s always best to “shovel away” accumulated “ice” by dealing with it sooner rather than later. If our frigid attitude is toward a set of circumstances, we should promptly make an analysis: if there’s something we can do to warm things up, we should; if not, we ought to hand it over to God so he can do it.

If it’s a relationship that’s become icy, we ought to look seriously for the reason(s) and act quickly to sort it out, particularly if it’s inside of a marriage. Relationship problems never “melt away on their own.”

And if we find ourselves cooling toward the Lord, we ought to get out the proverbial space heaters. Letting ourselves drift into a spiritual deep freeze can lead to a frosty relationship with the one who has offered to keep us warm from the inside out. And if shoveling away the relationship snow seem too daunting a task, we can remind ourselves it’ll never be any easier than it is “today.”

As for my crusty front sidewalk, the weather app tells me it’ll hit 52 degrees tomorrow and that a spring rain will wash away all the ice and snow. So in terms of blizzards, I guess Dad was right again.