Going Batty

Posted on July 17, 2012 by Margaret

When Linnea was 3 years old, our family of 5 took a vacation to Wisconsin and ended up in a place no vacationer wants to go: the doctor’s office.

It began as we loaded our station wagon for a 40 minute drive from our rented cabin to the county fair. As we climbed into the car, Linnea let out a shriek from the back. All of us looked simultaneously and saw her holding the top of her head as she continued to holler in pain.

Nate and I bolted from our front seats around to the back, and what we saw horrified us. Crawling on the floor of the car was a dark grey bat in the process of folding his webbed wings. Linnea, still rubbing her head, pointed and said, “That thing bit me!”

And suddenly we had a problem.

Nate quickly confined the bat by dumping out a metal tool box and turning it upsidedown over the sluggish animal, and we knew our next move had to be finding a doctor. The resort owners directed us, but before we left, we wanted the bat out of the car. As we moved the tool box, he flew away.

Within the hour, medical personnel were examining Linnea’s scalp wound, chiding us for not hanging onto the bat. “We could have tested it to determine whether or not your daughter will get rabies.”

The doctor told us in most rabies cases, bats are responsible. He described a scenario of certain, excruciating death, and told us the only remedy was multiple painful injections into the abdomen. (This was 32 years ago.) “It’s a gamble,” he said. “If the bat had rabies, your daughter will die. If not, she’ll be fine.”

We learned it’s difficult to tell if a bat is sick just by looking at it, but since they’re nocturnal, finding a bat during the day was a bad sign. The doctor also said, “Any bat found in a place where they usually aren’t seen could be rabid.”

Nate and I agonized over what to do, and because the probabilities were in our favor, we took a chance and did nothing. Looking back, we were probably foolish to gamble with Linnea’s life that way.

There are many ways any of us can gamble with our lives, but there’s only one way to do it with eternal permanence. That’s to forfeit salvation through Christ. Whatever we decide about him in this life will have consequences in the next. It’s absolutely critical not to gamble on this point, even more so than in a decision about a bat’s bite.

Linnea’s story turned out well, especially because of its interesting twist. Once back at home we were unloading the car when we noticed a big tuft of long red hair hanging from the wardrobe hook in the back of the car where Linnea had been sitting.

Most probably, her bat-bite had been a hair-yank and not a bite at all.

“Through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.” (Romans 8:2)

Have we seen that before?

Posted on July 10, 2012 by Margaret

When Nate died, we had 2 grandchildren, 15 month old Skylar and 10 month old Nicholas. Since then, 4 more little lives have joined our family: Micah, Evelyn, Thomas, and Autumn. Birgitta’s October baby will be a 5^th, bringing the total grands to 7.

The oldest of this passel of children is only 3, but a-lotta lively livin’ has been packed into the 2½ years since Nate left us. Because I believe every new life originates with God, I enjoy the thought that somehow our Lord, acting in love, has given Nate knowledge of these 4 little ones.

As I look at their angelic faces, once in a while I get glimpses of my husband. It’s the wonder of ancestry that facial features from a grandpa could reappear in his grandchildren or even in generations not yet born. We see this in something as simple as hair color. Nate and I were surprised when our first child came out with red hair, so we looked for other “carrot-tops” in our family tree. To our surprise they were dotted on both sides, though none in a close generation.

Every physical feature comes from someone else along the genealogy before us, though we may not recognize who or when. Grandpa’s eyes, great-grandma’s smile, auntie’s cheekbones. Yet in God’s unlimited ability to make each individual unlike any other, when he puts the recurring pieces together, each person turns out to be unique.

Far more important than someone’s physical characteristics, however, is the heart, and I don’t mean the lubb-dubb kind. Although most physical hearts look alike, it’s our emotional hearts that God is keenly interested in, and each of those is one-of-a-kind. He’s especially curious about whether or not our hearts beat for him.

If we daily seek after him with a desire to do life his way, the delightful result is that we’ll gradually become more like him. Some of his characteristics will appear in us, similar to the way the physical characteristics of our ancestors pop up one generation to the next.

Folklore tells us there’s one other way to look like someone else: stay married for a long time and you’ll begin to resemble your spouse. Maybe it’s a result of mirroring each other day after day or looking across the table and picking up each other’s mannerisms. Maybe it’s the result of eating the same diet or breathing the same air.

Whatever the reason, in our efforts to become more like Christ, it’s a pretty good idea to “look across the table” each day and see the Lord. If we watch what he does, obey his instructions, and eat a steady diet of his Word, we’re bound to start looking like him.

“We know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him.” (1 John 3:2)

1st Place on the 4th

Posted on July 4, 2012 by Margaret

Nate and I raised 4 boys, which taught us a great deal about explosives. As far as they were concerned, any activity that began with fire was something good. Before they entered kindergarten they all knew how to strike a match without burning their fingers, and I remember getting into trouble with a neighbor mom when Klaus taught her 3 year old how to do it, too.

So here we are on the 4^th of July. Booms, blasts, and bangs abound as happy celebrations mark Independence Day. Explosions are the American way of commemorating our country’s birthday, especially when the pyrotechnics spell out, “Let freedom ring!”

The spectacular displays in the night sky are reminiscent of these famous words: “The rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.”

We have a unique history during which wars were fought to secure the freedom of individuals, and those of us blessed to be born/raised here, really appreciate this gift. The fact that so many from other nations want to live in the USA is a testimony to the value of personal freedom.

Google got in the spirit of this day, too, posting a home page with this logo:

Their statement, “This land was made for you and me,” is a line from a song written by Woodie Guthrie in 1940, and the reason he wrote it might surprise you. It was his critical response to the hymn, “God Bless America,” which is a prayer. He was tired of hearing that one and said it was unrealistic and complacent. Originally he titled his replacement song, “God Bless America for Me.”

This morning when I saw Google’s quote, I looked up the song’s history, learning that the real reason Mr. Guthrie didn’t like “God Bless America” was his disinterest in God. If we don’t like someone, we don’t particularly want their blessing.

Why would God ever want to bless America anyway? The only realistic answer is that our founders craved his favor and were willing to establish the country on scriptural principles to win it. I’m fairly sure asking God to bless America “for me” is a step away from that.

But Woody Guthrie needn’t have worried. Our national anthem is neither “God Bless America” nor “This land is your land.” It’s “The Star Spangled Banner,” which isn’t even considered a hymn. But despite usually singing just the first verse, if we read all the words, it turns out to be a hymn after all:

Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: “In God is our trust.”