Touching Jesus

Posted on October 17, 2013 by Margaret

Last Sunday while still in Colorado, our group of ladies wanted to attend church together, so 3 cars headed for downtown Colorado Springs and the Presbyterian church of our hostess. Since she had a part in the service, she and her husband left early, and I went with them, hoping for a quiet prayer time on a lovely morning.

I found a bench not far from the church’s main entrance, appreciating a view of the distant Rocky Mountains and a snow-capped Pike’s Peak. It wasn’t long before families began arriving for the service, walking in groups from nearby city parking. As they came close, I marveled over the enthusiasm of youngsters racing ahead of their parents. “We want to see Jesus!” they said, breaking into a run. Others shouted, “We’re going to Jesus!” or “We’ll meet you by Jesus!” All I could think was that this church must have had a cracker-jack Sunday school program.

Once inside, I saw what they’d been talking about, a full-sized bronze Jesus holding a young child. Although his arm was wrapped around the toddler sitting on his knee (with the toddler’s arm wrapped around him), his other arm was up and open, welcoming anyone who might want to climb on the other side of his lap.

Children were crawling all over Jesus, some sitting on his knee, others clinging to his back, one up on his shoulders. He was “polished” with the evidence of many embraces, and comparing that scene to Scripture’s picture of Jesus relating to children, these kids had the right idea.

In Luke 18 Jesus rearranged his disciples’ priorities, telling them they had it all wrong by trying to keep kids away from him. “Don’t stop them!” he said. (v. 16) “My kingdom belongs to those who believe in Me with exactly this kind of open-mindedness and acceptance.”

But the disciples had a different agenda, thinking his preaching mattered more. What they didn’t realize was that he was preaching: to them. “You see these little ones? Watch how I’m delighting in their presence, loving them, blessing them. And take a lesson. You’re no more important than they are. As a matter of fact, why don’t you model yourselves after the eagerness and confidence they have in me. Then you’ll be on track for my kingdom.”

The statue of Jesus I saw last Sunday was originally commissioned as the centerpiece of a playground, the artist intending that children climb all over him. She named her work “The Embrace of Jesus,” hoping little ones would feel Christ’s embrace and then respond to his love.

Since the adults in this church loved the sculpture as much as the kids did, eventually it was moved inside. And as I stood next to this life-sized Jesus, it was satisfying to realize that his empty knee and outstretched arm were big enough even for me.

“Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it.” (Luke 18:17)

Travel Perks

Posted on October 16, 2013 by Margaret

Last weekend my trip out west included 3 airports: Chicago, Albuquerque, and Denver. Many months previously, I’d bought 3 one way tickets online, the best way to form my travel-triangle. It was a laborious task but concluded well, except for one thing.

As I was studying computer pages that night long ago, my frequent flyer miles popped up in a side column: “Would you like to use miles to purchase this ticket?” I’d never done that and wasn’t sure, but it sounded pretty good. So I “spent” 25,000 miles and “bought” the Denver-Chicago leg for free.

Something funny happened after that, though. When I clicked “yes” on choosing a seat, the computer pictured only the front section of the plane. Apparently I’d “bought” a priority ticket. When the next screen prompted me to select from a dinner menu, I knew I had. A flight less than 2 hours doesn’t usually include dinner with its mini-pretzels.

During my 5 days out west, I was surprised at how often I thought of that priority seat waiting for me: 3A, front row. Though I didn’t tell my girlfriends about my mistake, I got gladder and gladder, thinking of all those first class travel perks.

Many of us move through life in economy mode, sometimes wondering what it’s like in either direction (up or down). But God gives and also takes away as he considers what’s best for each of us, so that wherever we “land”, we’ll be where we should be. This reasoning presents problems, however, especially when we think of suffering children or deprived older adults. The world is full of painful shortages, and it’s difficult to come to terms with why God allows them.

As always, our example should be Jesus, a royal king who forfeited his wealth and power to become poor in all categories. He did it willingly, eagerly, although not as an experiment or a contest. He did it out of love so that the rest of us could one day become rich beyond measure, actually sharing his unlimited inheritance. From what I read in Scripture, our future lives will be worth all the shortages we experience in our present lives. The words “priority” or “first class” won’t be good enough.

As for my plane ride? Shortly after take-off, a flight attendant offered heated, moist hand towels to freshen up before dinner, followed by a small china cup of warmed cashews/almonds/pecans. A gourmet dinner tray held more than I could eat, and I appreciated the linen napkin with embroidered buttonhole to attach like a classy bib. If I’d asked for a box of Godivas, they probably would have produced it.

The bottom line, though, was that if I’d been sitting in the cramped back row with a tiny pretzel bag, I’d have made it to Chicago just fine.

“You know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.” (2 Corinthians 8:9)

Where is it?

Posted on October 16, 2013 by Margaret

The past 5 days I’ve had one happy experience after another. It began last Thursday with a flight to Albuquerque, New Mexico, for 24 hours with Susan, a prayer partner from our church in Illinois. We made the most of our time together, including an hour of prayer while sitting next to her swimming pool in the warm desert sunshine.

After leaving New Mexico, I flew to Colorado, to connect with 7 close friends from our years together at Wheaton College: Junior, Pam, Leslie, Cheryl, Carolyn, LeeAnn, and Julie. We enjoyed school memories, did some sightseeing, and caught up on each other’s families, making sure to lay the groundwork for our next meeting in a couple of years.

I caught a ride to the airport in the “early” car, several hours ahead of my departure time, to connect with Sue (another sister in Christ) at the Denver airport. Our 4 hours together were a lovely grand finale’ to 5 days of memorable re-connections with won- derful women.

There was only one flaw. Somewhere along the way I lost my camera, a trusty tool I’ve used for years to take pictures for this blog, among other things. On Day #2 I emptied my purse and suitcase, carry-on and computer bag, pockets and gift bags, but it was nowhere.

Though I could take pictures with my iPhone, the camera card contained important photo files and was easier to use. But after 4 days of searching, I concluded it must have been in my coat pocket and slipped out during travel. The only thing to do was let it go.

I thought I’d mastered that after our 2009 move from a big house in Illinois to a small one in Michigan, paring down our possessions by two-thirds. But releasing my camera was a letting-go I couldn’t master. What was God trying to teach me?

My “girlfriends” and I joked about my inability to stop looking for (and complaining about) my camera. But one of them said, “Release it into God, and he’ll probably bring it back to you.”

That sounded like, “Let’s make a deal, Lord. I’ll let it go, if you make it reappear.” I couldn’t do that.

Finally, after stewing all the way to Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, I surrendered. “Ok, Father,” I said. “I know you want me to let go of my camera, so here and now, I do. It’s gone, and I accept that.” It was a weight lifted.

By the time Louisa and I pulled into our Michigan driveway, I’d completely stopped thinking about it. It had simply been God’s refresher course in holding possessions lightly, a “skill” he wants me to practice regularly.

Several hours later, while kneeling on my bedroom floor pulling things out of my carry-on bag (looking for my phone charger), I gasped as the camera plopped onto the carpet in front of me.