We have no idea.

Posted on August 22, 2012 by Margaret

Each morning when we wake up, we look at the ceiling above us and run through our plans for that day, even though we have no idea what might unfold. By the time our heads are back on the pillow looking up at the ceiling that night, it may have all panned out differently.

Take today, for example. If my cottage had a revolving door, it would never be still. Louisa left this morning, returning Saturday. That was just about the time Klaus arrived, leaving an hour later. Nelson departs tomorrow, returning Sunday. Hans and family called today to confirm airplane arrivals from England, and Linnea’s family is firming up another visit from Florida. Lars comes and goes from Chicago, and Birgitta and I are in and out daily.

As the front door opens and closes, each arrival and departure is loosely based on our calendars and date books, and all of us have expectations for every day. But what if our plans don’t click quite right? What if something goes wrong?

When Klaus left this afternoon he said, “See you tonight!” but when he arrived, it was with an unidentifiable racket that reverberated through the neighborhood. As he turned into our driveway, the ball joint from his front wheel snapped off the frame of his car, throwing it sideways and bringing him to a screeching stop, metal on asphalt.

When we saw the wheel, it was evident God had prevented a terrible accident. Most of Klaus’ driving is done on roads with a limit of 70 mph. Had the wheel come off at that speed, the car’s response would have been chaotic and catastrophic with him inside. All we could say was, “Wow….”

Scripture tells us God watches over our comings and goings. It doesn’t say he always prevents accidents or brings us to our destination every time, but he does promise to watch, noticing everything that happens to us. And because he uses his great power to affect change, we probably have no idea how many accidents he has averted for us. Tonight he let us identify one of them.

What confuses us is that some accidents God doesn’t prevent. Others he does. We know he has significant reasons for each of his choices, but that can be hard for us to swallow. The disasters he doesn’t prevent impact us heavily, and without understanding the why’s behind them, we bristle with frustration and anger. But it’s important to recognize that many of the accidents he does prevent are unknown to us. We have no idea how many there are, and we don’t give him credit for any of those.

Tonight I do want to give him credit for protecting Klaus and for planning for his wheel to fall off while going 7 mph instead of 70.

Thank you so much, Lord, for today, and for all those other times you protected us when we were unaware.

“The Lord will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” (Psalm 121:7-8)

Hearing Voices

Posted on July 29, 2012 by Margaret

Our church loves children. They and all their extraneous noises are welcome in the services, and our pastors frequently espouse the value of their generation. To make our worship hour more palatable for youngsters, a big basket at the back of the sanctuary sits filled with small cloth bags of quiet toys: crayons, coloring paper, shoelace-thread, sewing cards. All of us want children to know they’re a high priority to us, and by association, a high priority to God.

Of course a nursery is available for parents who need a break from their babies, or for children whose fussiness would distract other worshipers.

Today as we worked our way through the order of service, childish voices/noises erupted here and there along with the singing, praying, and preaching. Generally, though, quietness reigned. During the Scripture reading we suddenly heard a muffled but shrill baby’s cry coming from the narthex at the back of the sanctuary, behind closed doors. Maybe only those of us who are mothers heard it, but it was definitely a baby crying, probably being walked around by a nursery worker trying to quiet her.

Like a shot, a 20-something man jumped from his aisle seat and rushed toward the back of the sanctuary and out the double doors. Without even looking, he’d recognized the cry of his own child through closed doors, from far away, and above the speaker’s voice. Impressive.

As the service continued, the baby-crying stopped… within seconds. Whatever it was, daddy had fixed it.

That church-time mini-drama tugged my thinking right out of church and into heaven, specifically to God and his hearing abilities. Watching that young father bolt from the sanctuary was a demonstration of what God continually does for us. He’s always listening for our cries. And though the earth is populated with 7 billion people, all of whom are capable of crying, he recognizes the individual voices of each of us whether we’re whimpering, sobbing, or wailing.

The baby who cried in the church narthex this morning wasn’t making any specific request: “I want Daddy!” or “I’m hungry!” or “I’m frightened!” It was just a cry. But never mind the reason. Her father jumped from his seat and hurried to her anyway.

God does the exact same thing. If we’re expressing a need, he comes to us quickly, but even if we don’t know what we need, he comes then, too. By his strong response to our troubles, he’s saying the same thing our responding daddy was saying this morning: you, child, are important to me, a top priority. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you when you need me.

How wonderful to let children know, from their earliest days, that they’re important to us and to the church, and more significantly, to God. And we oldsters need to remember, the same goes for us.

“Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry.” (Psalm 130:2)

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.”