Flights of Imagination

Posted on January 7, 2014 by Margaret

When I recall my early teen years, I remember that I was often a brat. For example, one day my dad was pacing through the house with a frown on his face, stressed about something at work. In a most inconsiderate way I said, “Dad, you shouldn’t worry about stuff. The Bible says it’s a sin, so you’re committing sin every time you worry.”

I don’t remember his exact response, but at 14, I figured I knew more than he did and walked away thinking I’d delivered the wisdom of the ages. Since then, however, I’ve learned a great deal about worry. First, God doesn’t want us to do it (I had the right idea about that), but second, it can dominate a person anyway, day and night, for weeks at a time.

Recently I’ve worried about a couple of matters to the point of concocting fantasies of worst-case-scenarios. Then I’ve let those imaginary scenes torment me as if they were actually real, especially during the night.

While sharing this with daughter Linnea last week she said, “Mom, God doesn’t give grace to cover our tomorrows or our yesterdays, only our todays.” Of course I knew that, but I hadn’t heard it put quite that way. I’ve repeated that sentence to myself frequently since then, whenever my mind leans into future fantasies.

Then last night as I climbed into bed, I noticed the sub-zero frost outside the window just inches from my pillow. After unrelenting snow and wind for 5 days straight, frosty crystals had formed on the glass next to a ledge of snow, reminding me it was a frigid -16 degrees outside. But I didn’t worry about it. I knew I wouldn’t freeze to death in my sleep, even though the glass was thin, very breakable, and ice-cold to the touch.

How come?

Because my experience has been that windows keep out the weather. So when I slipped under my down blanket, I believed I’d be cozy throughout the night. There was no fantasy about my family finding me frozen to death with a layer of snow covering my stiff body. I had faith in my window.

So why is it so difficult to have faith in God? Since I’ve had plenty of experience with his sufficiency, why can’t I live in my todays without fabricating disasters for my tomorrows?

Son Nelson gave me another helpful quote, this one from Corrie ten Boom: “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength.” Through harsh worry-experience, I’ve learned the truth of that.

Our spiritual enemy, Satan, wants us to turn from trusting God to trusting our fears (and fearful fantasies). When I let myself get caught up worrying, I’ve pleased the devil and have (as C.S.Lewis says) “barricaded my mind against God.” That’s the last thing I want to do!

So tonight as I crawl under the covers, I’m going to let that ice-covered window serve as my reminder to trust in God, not in foolish fantasies.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27)

Surprise Surprise

Posted on January 6, 2014 by Margaret

Last Sunday, the first of 2014, our pastor established a new tradition. For many years the kids in our congregation have been treated to their own child-appropriate sermon as part of the morning service. Afterwards they’ve headed for their Sunday school program while the rest of us have listened to the adult sermon.

The children’s sermons have been delivered by a variety of volunteers in past years, but our new pastor has decided to take them on himself. So last Sunday he launched a creative new way to deliver each sermon to our small fry. He’s calling it, “Pastor on the Hot Seat.”

Pastor Jay introduced a canvas bag into which a mystery item had been placed (the first week, by his own daughters). He explained that each Sunday he’ll pull out the item inside and structure a children’s sermon around it on the spot, connecting it to the adult sermon if possible. Afterwards, he’ll hand the bag to one of the other children and ask them to bring it back the following Sunday with another surprise item inside for the next sermon.

I love his idea and the bravery behind it, even though he might occasionally pull something from the bag and go blank. But of course that, too, could develop into an effective sermon:

Blank sin-slate after forgiveness?
Blanking out on problem-solving and needing God’s advice?
Giving God a blank check to tell us how much to donate?

Regardless of what’s in the bag each week, Pastor Jay will probably come up with something to say, and I’m sure in his early morning Sunday preparations, he’ll ask the Lord to supply it. God will know what’s in the bag ahead of time and will have the children’s sermon all prepared for the pastor by the time he sits on the hot seat (the platform floor) in front of our youngsters.

Amazingly, the rest of us can take advantage of that same remarkable characteristic of God, since we sometimes find ourselves on hot seats of our own. Every day is like a bag with surprises in it. Maybe a dozen of them. And God sees them long before we do. He knows the best way to respond to each one and will order our thoughts to “create the proper storyline” around them. He’ll also supply whatever resources we need. All we have to do is ask him.

I have a hunch our whole congregation will be eager for the children’s sermon each Sunday, not necessarily to watch our “Pastor on the Hot Seat” but to see: (1) what a child has put in the bag, and (2) what God has put in our pastor’s head.

And if Sunday’s first “surprise sermon” was any indication, this new tradition will be satisfying for all ages alike.

“Wisdom shouts…. come and listen to my counsel. I’ll share my heart with you and make you wise.” (Proverbs 1:23)

Getting Into It

Posted on January 5, 2014 by Margaret

Living in southwest Michigan as we do, we’re often the benefactors of “lake-effect storms.” Weather systems rolling across the country from west to east fly over Lake Michigan, picking up water as they go and then dropping it when they hit land on our side of the lake.

Today is one of those days. We all thought January wouldn’t be snowy, since December had more than its fair share. But after 11” of accumulation in 5 days, we’re in the process of receiving 12 more. This time, though, it’s impossible to measure, since wild winds are swirling it like cake batter in a Kitchen Aid mixer.

I walked Jack to the lake today, hoping for a few dramatic pictures. But powerful winds swept me into a snow drift before I even got there, camera and old lady going down together. Though a foot of snow makes a soft landing, the eye-sting of high speed snowflakes made us turn back.

This was a crushing disap- pointment to Jack, who lives for winter weather. He does his happy dance in the middle of snowy roads and snoofs his whole face into drifts looking for interesting scents. Bounding over snow banks like a young pup, he behaves nothing like the 77 year old guy he really is, and heading home today was his last choice.

But back we went, with me trying to stay upright and him racing around me in circles. Once back inside the house, I had to agree with Jack that the storm was beautiful. But looking at it through a window and walking outside in it were two vastly different experiences. One was just observing; the other was being engulfed by it.

A spiritual parallel might be to intellectually know about God’s love without actually experiencing it. To know the facts is to observe from a distance; to experience it is to be fully surrounded.

I know several people who’ve read the Bible repeatedly and can recite chapter and verse better than I can, but who’ve never embraced Jesus personally. That’s like standing at the window and commenting on how gorgeous the snow is without experiencing it firsthand.

Yes, there’s risk in going outside on a day like today, just like we sometimes view following Christ as a risk. We say, “What if he asks me to do what I can’t? Like reconcile with that person I don’t like? Or love someone who’s completely unlovable? Or give away money I can’t afford? Or take precious time to do things I’d rather not?”

He might.

But if we’re willing to “get into it” with him the way Jack gets into snowy weather, we’ll find the risk is worth it…. much like my friend Linda learned that being in the snow is way better than just looking at it through a window.

“The Lord alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him.” (Psalm 91:2)