What about The Bean?

Posted on June 27, 2012 by Margaret

The Bean has been a part of our family for many years, has clocked 200,000 miles, and has been repainted six times from a can, with a brush. (“The Bean,” June 26, 2010) Because this tiny car has become a legend in 9 states, admirers have occasionally helped finance its needs. One generous friend from Texas actually bought 4 new tires a couple of years ago, more than doubling the value of the car. (Thank you, Debbie!)

This week, though, all of us got a shock. When Nelson arrived home from 10 months in a Youth With A Mission Bible school in Montana, he pulled into the driveway in (gasp) a minivan! When we waved goodbye last September, he was driving The Bean. It was wearing a new coat of snow-camouflage appropriate to Montana’s snowy climate, ready to climb mountains with its new tires. (“Back, and Better than Ever,” July 14, 2011)

Then, during the school year as Nelson and 50 others studied the Bible from cover to cover in mind-boggling depth, The Bean performed faithfully, transporting students, making airport runs, being the reliable ride it had always been. But more and more its small size became a hindrance. So as license and registration expired, an inexpensive van took its place. The Bean had earned a rest.

This week, though, there’s been mourning in the family camp. Will we ever see The Bean again? “Why didn’t you bring it home?” we all asked Nelson, but of course none of us volunteered to finance new license and registration or pay to update several mechanical issues. In other words, if we really wanted The Bean to come home, we should have put our money where our mouths were.

Scripture says something similar, that we’re to be doers of the Word and not hearers only. We can listen to everything the Bible teaches and nod in agreement, but if we’re not acting on its principles, maybe Scripture’s truth has gone in one ear and other the other. After we hear it, God watches closely, hoping we’ll do something practical with what we’ve learned.

Of course it would be easier to study the Bible and then just keep it to ourselves. I’m a pro at that: “Thank you, Father, for such wonderful knowledge.” But if I take it in and lock it up, I’ve missed God’s intention.

When Nelson’s school ended last week, the staff told all the students, “You’ve worked hard these 10 months and learned a great deal, but God didn’t bring you here to stockpile knowledge so you could keep it to yourself. He wants you to do something with it.”

That’s what’s motivated Nelson (and others) to plan on returning to Montana in September for “The Titus Project,” an outreach focused on teaching them how to be teachers of others. And maybe when Nelson gets there, he’ll even be picked up at the airport by someone driving The Bean.

“Be doers of the word, and not hearers only.” (James 1:22)

Abundant Giving

Posted on June 25, 2012 by Margaret

When Nelson drove home from Montana this weekend, he came by way of a visit with my nephew Luke and his wife Emily in Wisconsin. After he got here, he brought in a giant storage bin and two big shopping bags, plunking them down in front of Birgitta. “From Emily,” he said. “For your baby.”

Inside were baby girl clothes to outfit our October baby for an entire year: infant gowns, onesies, booties, hats, dresses, sleepers, bibs, tights, shoes, 3-piece outfits, socks, towels, wash cloths, burping cloths, a snowsuit, and more. Emily even sent a typed inventory of larger items for Birgitta’s “yes or no:” a car seat, stroller, exer-saucer, Baby Einstein cds, Bumbo seat, baby carrier, Boppy, toys, and many other things. Everything was washed and neatly folded, the smaller items in labeled baggies.

As Birgitta held up one adorable outfit after another, we oooed and awwwed with delight at such unexpected bounty, high-quality, well-made baby clothes the likes of which she probably wouldn’t have been able to buy. Because of Emily, Birgitta won’t need to buy anything but diapers. We are humbled by this incredible generosity.

Emily is a stunning example of what God hopes all of us will do but many of us don’t. I remember the frustration of trying to teach our young children to share while I was making a meal for friends who’d just had a new baby. As I was packing up the dinner along with most of a batch of freshly-baked cookies, one of our younger boys said, “Hey! Don’t give away so many of those. You’re not leaving enough for us!”

“It’s important to share,” I told him.

“Why?”

“Because God wants us to, and because if we do, God will share with us.”

My little boy frowned.

Right after that I found this instructional verse for the kids: “Do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.” (Hebrews 13:16) I made them memorize it, hoping they’d swallow the message. What I’ve learned since then, though, is that I’m not all that good at sharing myself, even now. Rationalizing still comes easy: “I’d better not give that away; I might need it later.” Or, “That item has sentimental value. Wouldn’t it be wrong to part with it?”

Scripture says, “Be generous.” It doesn’t say, “If you feel like it” or “if you’re sure you don’t want it anymore” or “If it has no sentimental value.” It just says, “Give.” God knew it might be difficult for us to share, so he told us how to learn: force ourselves to do it.

And precious Emily has shown us how. In the handwritten note to Birgitta she’d tucked in with the clothes she wrote, “Keep what you want…

…and give the rest away.”

“Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Luke 6:38)

Hip Hop

Posted on June 17, 2012 by Margaret

I used to have a green thumb. Mom was an enthusiastic gardener who’s skill at tending things made it all grow, and she tutored me. For decades my Illinois gardens were happy.

Since moving to Michigan, however, I haven’t done as well. I thought my yellow cottage could resemble a Thomas Kincaid painting if I hung flowering window boxes, so I bought 3 of them. Their northern exposure meant 100% shade, but I figured impatiens or begonias would work.

I tried both over 2 consecutive summers, but the boxes never looked good. Last year I purchased new groups of plants 3 times over, but saw the demise of all 3 sets. This year, though, I have a fool proof plan. Blossoms are guaranteed, because the flowers I planted are… artificial. Their label bragged they could fool anyone, so yesterday, the day before my Sunday brunch for 14, I brought the 3 window boxes into the house to set them up with white flowers and beautiful plastic asparagus fern.

While I assembled gardening tools, the 3 window boxes (full of last year’s moist potting soil) sat on my dining room table, and when I came back, I got a big surprise. The table was alive with critters who’d been living in the window boxes while it wintered behind the evergreens.

There were roly-poly bugs, ants, spiders, and several earth worms making their way across my table, exploring their new surroundings. I knew my brunch guests wouldn’t appreciate critters crawling over their feet or (gulp) their coffee cake, so had to move fast.

In keeping with my policy of never harming an outdoor creature when it’s outside but signing its death warrant inside, I started with the spiders, then finished off everything else except the worms. They received grace and were relocated in the yard.

After that, the plastic planting proceeded without a hitch except when a frog suddenly jumped out of the third window box. About the size of a plum, he startled me but quickly hopped to the table, chair, and floor, ultimately finding shelter next to a table leg. After making several unsuccessful grabs, I laced myself through the chairs trying to put a hand over him, but he always stayed one hop ahead of me.

In a way his moves imitated what I sometimes do when I hop away from God’s plans to carry me out of one of the messes I’ve made, favoring my own route out. He has every intention of liberating me, but when I pray for his direction and he responds with a protective hand over me, I jump right out from under it. Then when I get into trouble a few hops later, I beg him for rescue.

The frog didn’t know I had a good plan to carry him back outdoors. And because he wouldn’t let me hold him, he might have signed his own death warrant. Although I kept trying to catch him, in the end he completely disappeared.

Thirty-six hours later, I still haven’t found him.