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Look-alikes

Posted on July 25, 2010 by Margaret

Today I was rummaging around for one of those snap-shut eyeglass cases to protect sunglasses in a beach bag. Since Nate was always careful with his glasses, I looked in his top dresser drawer, and sure enough, there were five snap-shut cases, just the way he left them. One had reading glasses in it. Two had prescription sunglasses. One was empty, and the fifth surprised me. Inside was a small, shiny pair of scissors.

Although Nate occasionally complained about the noise and debris of his school-age children, he didn’t nitpick his adult kids. There was one exception, however. Over the years he couldn’t hang onto a small pair of scissors he kept in our bathroom medicine cabinet and blamed different kids for its repeated disappearance. Eventually he’d always head for Walgreens to buy another one.

Today I discovered how he’d permanently solved the dilemma. He’d bought a scissors and hidden it in a glasses case, which made me laugh. But why did he want tiny scissors anyway?

In all the years we were married, although I often heard about his scissors disappearing, I never asked what he was cutting. Now I know. Tucked in with the scissors was a tiny comb resembling a Barbie doll accessory. It reminded me of something that happened at a wedding reception three years ago.

A young girl came up to us as we stood chatting with another couple, balancing our appetizer plates. Although we didn’t know her, she asked to take Nate’s picture. Would he mind? His quizzical look made her finish his thought. “…because you look just like Donald Trump!”

As I took his appetizers from him, Nate reluctantly agreed. The young photographer asked him to point his finger as if he was saying “You’re fired!” Nate did, albeit without enthusiasm. The rest of us enjoyed the moment much more than he did.

On the way home, he talked about the girl and her photo. “I hope it doesn’t turn up on the internet.” But my surprise came when he added, “I get that all the time downtown.”

“You get what all the time?” I asked.

“Get taken for Donald Trump.”

And that, I decided, was what the scissors and mini- comb were all about. When his brows got too bushy and the likeness became strong, he’d trim and comb them neatly. He wasn’t interested in being taken for Donald Trump.

Folklore says everybody has a double somewhere. I don’t believe it, because God is creative enough not to have to “ditto” anyone. But the concept of doubles is intriguing. Celebrity look-alike contests abound, and the side-by-side photos do grab our attention. Some people even develop flourishing careers based on looking and acting like someone they’re not.

In reality, each of us is exactly who God made us to be.

And he wants us to be ourselves, but makes one exception. He gives permission, actually urges us, to become look-alikes of somebody: him. Although we don’t need a scissors or a mustache comb to develop the resemblance, we do need something much more difficult to acquire: a non-stop attitude of sacrificial love.

Now… if only that were available at Walgreens.

“Imitate God… in everything you do, because you are his dear children. Live a life filled with love, following the example of Christ.” (Ephesians 5:1-2a)

Perfection

Posted on July 24, 2010 by Margaret

It’s hard to be perfect at anything. No matter how we try, our efforts are flawed. But when I was a kid, I got to be perfect at one thing: Sunday school attendance.

In the ‘40s and ‘50s, our church involvement went well beyond sitting through one hour-long worship service. Sunday school came before church, followed by a “fellowship time,” followed by “real” church. Since my family lived in the Chicago suburbs and Moody Church was in the city, we left home early and returned mid-afternoon, often heading back later for an evening worship service.

Nevertheless, many of us chased after perfect attendance. If we ventured out of town, a diligent search was made for an acceptable local church to attend. And it wasn’t good enough just to sit through a church service. In order to get attendance credit with our home church, we had to be present at a Sunday school hour, too. Then we proved that by bringing home a note from the vacation Sunday school, preferably written on their church letter-head.

If we successfully attended Sunday school for 52 weeks in a row, we received a gold and enamel brass bar attached to an attendance pin. Each new year came with a fresh chance to win another bar.

Although some Sunday school attendees continued to pursue perfect attendance even after high school, most of us figured going off to college closed the door to any additional bars, which is not to say we didn’t remain at least sporadically faithful anyway.

What made us want to attend Sunday school every single week of the year? In the beginning we were obedient little children just following orders, but that evolved into the fun of coming together with pals, which then grew into forming long-term friendships (and quite a few marriages).

As small fry we also loved the flannelgraph Bible stories and the teachers who taught them. During our teens we were coaxed to ponder life’s hardest questions and watched closely as our leaders lived out their faith in front of us. Many of us still point to these Sunday school teachers and youth pastors as important mentors in our lives. They encouraged us to “walk the high road” rather than take the easy route with instant gratification.

But the #1 motivation toward perfect Sunday school attendance was all about a person… actually three people. As we showed up week to week, we grew to know and love (1) God our heavenly Father, (2) Jesus our personal Savior and the mysterious but powerful (3) Holy Spirit who, amazingly enough, was willing to live within us if we asked him. And because of these three, we learned that in God’s hands, even life’s negatives eventually yield blessings.

Whether or not we find perfection in any category on this earth, the Trinity has offered to provide eternal perfection to all who believe. And we don’t even have to attend Sunday school to get it.

“Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works. And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of [Christ’s] return is drawing near.” (Hebrews 10:24-25)

July 22, 2008

Posted on July 22, 2010 by Margaret

When our granddaughter Skylar first came to be as a tiny, almost invisible division of cells, she was God’s secret, just as every conception of life is, for a while. In this case, however, the Lord must have felt a certain eagerness to share his well-planned surprise with our daughter Linnea and her husband Adam.

This young couple’s sad history with infertility (www.KissYourMiracle.com“my story”), had left them pondering life without a family. They’d excitedly talked about having children from the time of their engagement, but after months of painful, expensive tests, doctors had told them natural conception was impossible. In the midst of their grief, they decided to pray for a miracle anyway and trust God with whatever happened, baby or no baby.

Eighteen months later, when Linnea began feeling poorly while teaching her high school English classes, she never suspected a pregnancy. But as symptoms increased and she found herself falling into bed earlier and earlier each night, a light switched on inside Adam’s head.

After a home pregnancy test produced a positive, they decided it was probably a faulty test and went back to the store for a second one, a different brand. But that one was positive, too! Reluctant to believe it, they decided to see their doctor, who did a third test in his office, another positive! But it wasn’t until they saw their peanut-sized baby on an ultrasound screen that they succumbed to hysterical happiness and believed they were actually going to have a baby. Because of physical problems and the medical impossibility of becoming pregnant, no one could explain how it had happened.

But God……

…..had plans.

While Linnea was pregnant, I couldn’t help but ask, “Are you walking on egg shells, Honey? Aren’t you afraid to breathe?”

Her answer revealed a mature faith in the Creator of their child. “Mom, this baby is totally God’s, not ours. If he decided to take him or her right now, how could I object?”

Then, on a hot July night in Florida, eight days overdue, Skylar finally arrived. She was given the middle name Grace, because of God. And what an explosion of life she was! I flew south on the afternoon they came home from the hospital, eager to meet God’s amazing surprise package. But within 24 hours we were contemplating a trip to the emergency room for all her non-stop, fenzied screaming. This child had stamina beyond our imagining!

At the time, my podunk theory was that she was an active toddler locked in the powerless body of a newborn, frustrated and unable to expend her boundless energy in any way other than crying. As silly that that sounds, it has proven true. When she began sitting, crawling, walking, running and talking, she got happier and happier.

Today she turned two, and our sparkly Skylar never ceases to delight us all. We can’t imagine life without all the laughter and joy she’s brought along with her, nor can we ever forget that God, in a show of lavish grace, sent our Skylar Grace.