Squeezing It In

Posted on August 25, 2013 by Margaret

Hans and Katy’s house in England was built nearly 50 years ago and has a small one-car garage. When Hans put his work van away each night, he had only 3” of wiggle room front and rear, and only enough side-room to barely squeeze himself out the driver’s door. I watched him back it in, appreciating the expertise it took to hit it just right.

With the purchase of his larger van, pulling in at all is no longer possible, which is both bad news and good. The bad news is having to arrange a secure parking place somewhere else. The good news is acquiring a bunch of new storage space in the empty garage.

One week ago when I was there, Hans and I were standing in the middle of the garage while he explained where new shelves would go, when I looked up and saw words of chalk written on one of the brick walls:

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.”

When I pointed to the words and asked about them, Hans said, “It’s the last thing I saw getting into the van to go to work every morning, and the first thing I saw getting out when I got home. Good stuff.” In the midst of a garage full of utilitarian items, this quote from Psalm 91 stood out as something special, a practical promise straight from heaven.

Lots of us complain about not having enough time to focus on God and his Word. Our lives are crowded with other things, good things, and squeezing in Scripture can seem impossible. But chalk and a brick wall offer one way to do it.

The Bible is immensely practical. If we’ll let it, its wisdom will get us through shaky days with steadiness, and squeezing Scripture into our schedules will pay off exponentially. We can write verses on mirrors, index cards, screen savers, refrigerator magnets, laundry walls, bricks, or anything else as a way to partake of God’s supernatural power, the power he offers to send through his Word.

He invites us to creatively squeeze it in.

Seeing the chalked words in Hans’ garage reminded me of another place Scripture was squeezed in. Years ago our house in Illinois had a well worn path just outside the kitchen door that led to the next-door-neighbors’ house. The non-stop footprints between the two houses wore away the grass and left a muddy trail instead.

Wanting to reduce the dirty footprints coming into my kitchen, I pressed a row of concrete stepping stones into the mud, and God provided a squeeze-it-in idea. We wrote one word of a footstep-verse on each stone so that young feet could absorb his wisdom as they ran between the houses: “The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him.” (Psalm 37:23)

Like Hans, we were just trying to gain God’s wisdom by squeezing it in.

“Get wisdom, get understanding; do not forget my words.” (Proverbs 4:5)

Growing Pains

Posted on August 22, 2013 by Margaret

This morning Nelson and I set off for the airport by 5:25 AM where he once again boarded a plane back to Youth With A Mission, this time in Montana . As we drove through the dark we enjoyed talking, knowing we wouldn’t have another face-to-face conversation until Christmas.

This morning’s exchange of ideas centered on our usual: God and how he does things. Nelson is facing a new teaching position that has him working diligently on complicated preparations. None of it is easy, and he vacillates between excitement and concern. I know he’ll do an excellent job, but that’s easy for me to say; I’m not in the hot seat.

Yesterday, though, I experienced a similar leap of stress when an email arrived from my publisher describing an assignment he thinks I should take: a webinar on handling grief. My only response was, “What’s a webinar?”

[It’s a seminar online that lets participants see and hear the presenter(s) as they answer interview questions or conduct discussions. By way of the internet, listeners interested in the topic can participate live, if they wish.]

Not only is this foreign to me, it’s scary. My contact assured me I didn’t need to be an expert on grief in general, just on my own grief experience. The goal will be to encourage people who are struggling with sorrow, letting them know they’ll be able to move forward again one day with fresh joy in their lives.

Of course that purpose is valuable, just like Nelson’s teaching is, but for both of us these new challenges are intimidating. It would be easier to dwell in a “comfort zone” and stick with that as the ongoing status quo. Learning new skills and conquering feelings of inadequacy can really take it out of a person.

But as Nelson and I talked this morning, the bottom line always has to be, “What does God want us to do?” If any request comes because he sent it, a “yes” is the only good answer. We ought to acknowledge our own shortfalls and then quickly melt into his capability, knowing that’s the only way these challenging tasks can ever get done well.

Maybe that’s the reason God asks us to do hard things in the first place. He isn’t about setting us in places of comfort or ease but prefers we stretch and grow, not as much for our own benefit as for someone else’s. There’s another possibility, too. The current “new thing” he asks us to do may simply be his chosen way to lead us on to something else, i.e. Step A toward his Step B.

Or C. Or D. Such a thought is unnerving.

But Nelson said yes, and I did too, so we’re both off and running…. straight to God.

“Be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” (Romans 12:2)

If Walls Could Talk

Posted on August 21, 2013 by Margaret

A while ago Nelson and I were running errands and decided to take the back roads home instead of the highway (for 28 miles). He said, “There’s lots of interesting stuff off the beaten trail that nobody gets to see.”

Driving along winding roads past country fields, colorful farm equipment, and family vegetable stands, we rounded a bend and came to something significant: an old-fashioned, one-room school- house. Its foundation was of rocks, the rest of it built with small red bricks.

Nelson pulled over so we could take a closer look. A plaque verified its name (Spring Creek School), age (1886), district (No. 3), and current owner (Three Oaks Township Parks and Recreation).

We tried to imagine what students were like as they attended this school 127 years ago, wondering how many studied at once. Though the door was locked, through a window we saw a giant pot-bellied stove and later learned it was original to the school, along with the thick plank flooring and wood-paneled walls.

Immediately I thought of the “Little House on the Prairie” books, much-loved and often- read in our home. Laura Ingalls was a school girl in the 1880’s too, so the children who attended Spring Creek School probably lived lives very similar to hers. Later we learned the “modern” brick school had replaced a cherry-wood, one-room log school built in 1844 on that spot.

Far more important than how the little red schoolhouse came into being, though, or even how well it’s held up through the decades, were the connections made between those who passed through its door. Childhood friendships, student-teacher relationships, mentoring situations, and student-to-student tutoring all probably mattered longer than just school hours. When people left for the day, for the year, or even permanently, what remained?

We learn in Scripture that relationships are really all that matter: (1) God, Jesus, and the Spirit to each other; (2) members of that Trinity to us; and (3) people to people. How we relate is critical (both for now and for eternity) and the Lord steadily supplies opportunities for us to practice making wise choices on both counts. If and when we fail, he doesn’t give up on us but soon provides another go-round at exactly what we messed up the first time.

Children and adults alike can be kind to each other or act badly, choosing to either inspire or discourage others. But in wondering about the children and teachers who used the little Spring Creek School, I like to think that solid friendships were made during the 1880’s and beyond, positive influences that lasted through future generations, all the way till today.

Wanting to find out, Nelson walked to a nearby farm to ask a few questions. Approaching the stand of fresh strawberries out in front, he asked the woman there if she knew anything about the school. “Oh yes,” she said, handing him a pint of berries. “My grandfather was a student there, and our farm here was his farm.”