Positive or Negative?

Posted on December 11, 2013 by Margaret

I’ve been spending lots of time on the floor lately, since much of Emerald’s world is down there. Walking past her without dipping into her play-zone for a minute is nearly impossible, which is how I end up on the floor.

Today my eyes fell on a piece of white paper sticking out of a book on the low shelf behind her. Pulling it out, I recognized it as a list of Nate’s positive character qualities. I’d written it toward the end of the summer of 2009, shortly before we learned of his deadly cancer.

I can’t recall what prompted me to make the list, though I’d written similar ones at other times, wanting to appreciate my husband in fresh ways. But the interesting thing about this list was that the right hand side of the page had been torn off, and I couldn’t remember why.

Had there been a few negative characteristics written on that side? Had I felt guilty afterwards, removing that part?

Unable to remember, I wondered what possibly could have been the value of writing down a loved one’s negatives? The only reason I can think of is to prove how few negatives there were next to a long list of positives. No matter what had been on that right side, I was glad it was no longer there.

I don’t think I ever showed the list of positives to Nate, but I wish I had. What an opportunity it would have been to build him up and express my love. I can just see us seated at dinner discussing the latest life challenges. Then I could have said, “I want to show you something.”

While his mind was still spinning with unnumbered stresses, I could have pulled out my “Positives” list and said, “This is a description of how I see you, and no matter what happens, this is how I’ll always see you.” I can picture him studying the list, surprised and delighted, after which his spirits would have been lifted and his courage strengthened.

Dad used to quote a poem about expressing verbal appreciation to the ones we love:

If you’ve anything good to say of a man,
Don’t wait till he’s laid to rest.
For an epitaph spoken when hearts are broken
Is an empty thing at best.

Today, since I can’t give the list to Nate, I gave it to the Lord, thanking him for how Nate’s positive character qualities blessed me every single day. After that, I put it back into the book on the floor-level shelf, to find again another day.

“May you always be filled with the fruit of your salvation — the righteous character produced in your life by Jesus Christ — for this will bring much glory and praise to God.” (Philippians 1:11)

As I see it…

Posted on December 10, 2013 by Margaret

When the parents of my grandchildren text me the unusual comments their little ones make, it’s total entertainment. Their creative thinking is often “way out there,” but we get a wide-open window into what’s on their minds.

This weekend Linnea wrote from Florida about what was on the mind of 3-year-old Micah:

“We were all cuddled up on the bed reading the Children’s Bible, the story of Jesus raising the little girl back to life. We were talking about how powerful Jesus is and that God is the only one who can do miracles. Micah looked up at me with a big smile and sweetly said, ‘Mommy, I want to be God’.”

Although Linnea began laughing, Micah was ready with his reason: “I just want to be in charge of everything.”

Linnea wrote, “He was very matter-of-fact about it, with his big blue eyes and freckly face.” The only thing she could do was accept his honesty at face value. He hadn’t made his assertion with a shred of pride or greed, just 3-year-old logic. Who wouldn’t want to have all the power and do all the miracles?

The sad truth is, 3-year-olds aren’t the only ones who want to be God, because oftentimes adults do, too. We wouldn’t come right out and say it like Micah did or even think it like that, but whenever we choose our own way over God’s, that’s what’s behind it.

Sometimes in our efforts to develop a spiritual side or to live biblically, we give ourselves credit for not wanting to be God, picturing ourselves bowed low in front of him, submitted and humbled. But then we turn and leave his presence with a passion to “do our own thing.” Suddenly we’ve put our agenda atop his, and there we are, playing God again.

The fact that we even have “our own thing” at all puts us in opposition to the Lord. “Our thing” ought only to be whatever “his thing” is for us, even though it may take a lifetime of roping ourselves in before we can fully cooperate with that.

The more we learn about God, the greater the discrepancy between who he is and who we are. There’s no comparison, and it does a world of good for our relationship with him, if we remind ourselves of that now and then. Though 3-year-old Micah still innocently dreams of wanting to be God, my 68-year-old self just better not.

“I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is no one like Me, declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times things which have not been done, saying, ‘My purpose will be established, and I will accomplish all My good pleasure’.” (Isaiah 46:9-10)

Practice gets messy.

Posted on December 9, 2013 by Margaret

Emerald is slowly learning to feed herself, and it’s not a pretty picture. One favorite menu is peanut butter on rice cakes with a banana chaser, a combo that evolves into a goo she then uses to finger-paint a nearby window.

It’s interesting that after she’s been eating for a while, suddenly she’ll hold out her hand and make the sound of distress: “Ooo, ooo, ooo!” which translates, “Oh no! I’m messy! Wipe me off!” How she can be elbow-deep in sticky PB and slimy banana for 20 minutes before noticing is a mystery.

Learning something new can be sticky/slimy/gooey for all of us. For sure it’s messy as we struggle to gain expertise in an area we know nothing about. Tradition says practice makes perfect, but equally true is that practice gets messy.

For example, let’s take Nelson Mandela. After his death last Thursday, the general public heard a running narrative of his many accomplishments, but it was two personal statements he made himself that impressed me most.

The first dealt with the men who sentenced him to a life in prison (which lasted 27 years). Mandela said he had forgiven them completely, an impressive achievement in my book.

The second was spoken in reference to his parenting. He said that being the president of a country was a good thing, but that being a father was far more important. Only a president could say such a thing with authority.

Both of these things, forgiveness and fathering (or mothering), take oodles of practice before we get them right. In the process of learning how, we might make some impressive messes and much like Emerald, not even realize it until we’re up to our elbows.

In Mandela’s case, he never regretted forgiving his accusers, insisting there was no benefit to revenge. Somehow he learned that difficult lesson through the pain of imprisonment. He did, however, have regrets about the fathering of his 6 children, much of it done “through a glass” in the prison visiting room.

Later he pondered aloud whether it was right or wrong to forfeit time with his own family (staying in prison longer than was required) in a commitment to help the families of others. It was a sticky issue indeed.

What’s true for all of us is that life’s most important ventures usually include a steep learning curve. Thankfully God is ready with valuable tutoring for the asking, and Scripture promises he’ll instruct us. This doesn’t mean he’ll show us how to crochet an afghan or change a tire, but he’ll definitely instruct us in all things godly, such as how to forgive, or how to parent.

And if we don’t let messy failures get the best of us, we’ll make steady progress…. just like Emerald will one day know how to eat without needing a full bath afterwards.