Hate Change?

Change

Nature is in transition. A couple of weeks ago it was summer-like. This week we saw frost for the first time. Each day we start and end with cold, but experience temps in the 60’s by mid-afternoon. This is frustrating when planning one’s wardrobe for the day, but it’s a good life reminder, omen, if you will.

Life is not intended to be static. Change is a sign of growth and health. As I look out my window, it appears that the natural world is dying before my eyes. The trees have lost their leaves. The grass is brittle and brown. The flowers have faded. The color is gone. God created this time of dormancy to allow the transition needed to bring life back in a fresh beautiful way in the spring. Yes, some of those things have died, but most are just going through a season of rest. Too, pruning has taken place in the neighborhood. This, too, is necessary for new growth.

So, why are we so fearful of change in our lives? As part of God’s creation, we too need change to grow and maintain health. Our culture is fluid, so to remain relevant, we too must alter our way of thinking and maneuvering in some uncharted waters of life. This is true for us personally, but it is also true for business and for our churches. We must remember, God said, in Eccl. 3:1, “To everything there is a season, and time to every purpose under the heaven.” God  prepared us for the reality of change, and I think, by implication, the blessings and challenges that come with each. So, why does it seem that churches struggle with this Biblical concept more than the world does? Perhaps, it is because we search for something that is stable in life. Christ is secure. He is stable, but that does not mean that the church will be or should be static. We must relate to an ever-changing world. Jesus met the needs of the people of His day. He calls us to do the same. While relying on the God who is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, we still must communicate Him to each new generation with their particular needs and world view. Thereby, we must be willing to set aside our preferences in order to accommodate changing methodologies for a changing world.

Am I required to like change? No, but I must realize that I found Christ in a church that was willing to adjust for my generation’s altered view. As one who is now a mature believer, I am willing to adapt to a new way of doing things in order to reach a young generation needing salvation as much as I did.

When I look in the mirror each morning only to observe a new wrinkle around the eyes or a little less firmness in the jaw, I mourn the face that looked back at me 20 years ago. It’s a fleeting thought, however, because I remember God’s words, and I am heartened by the realization that it’s a new season in life. There’s new purpose. As in nature, the changes I see may signal a resting period or a life soon to end. However, that too will just be a change. Ecclesiastes 3 goes on to say, “A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted.” I will eventually die to the earth only to experience a new season that I will welcome in every way, because I will be in the presence of my Savior.

In the meantime, I look out my window and see the fading beauty that was autumn, but I am cheered by the knowledge that new life, fresh beauty will blossom from this necessary transition, this new season of life.

It's All about Power!

Faith is a funny thing when you think about it. We ask God for it, but we often ask, at the same time, to SEE what’s ahead for us. Heb. 1 says that “Faith is the substance of things NOT SEEN”, yet we want “faith” while seeing. Perhaps we misunderstand the power behind the NOT SEEING. When I can see what’s ahead I have a certain amount of power to deal with it on my own. That leaves God out of the picture. If I can control the situation, faith is not required, and God is unlikely to get the Glory. If I do not have to sometimes grapple in the dark and depend on God for my next step, why even talk about faith? It is apparently not a part of my experience. Just saying the word is meaningless unless I take the step in the dark.

When my son was small, we lost electrical power one night. My preschooler was afraid, so I picked him up and carried him. I could maneuver through our home without the benefit of electricity. When I held him, all fear was gone. He still couldn’t see, but he trusted me to take care of him. As he grew in his trust, he lost his fear of the literal and figurative dark. I think this is the picture that God wants us to grasp. God created the world in which we live. He is perfectly able to find his way through it no matter what obstacles deter us. When everything seems out of control and I don’t know where to turn and I cannot see my way through, God is ready to pick me up and carry me safely to the other side of my problem. Because I have seen him do this for me in the past, I have learned to trust him to bring me into the light. You see, I don’t need to “see”. God sees far more than I ever could. I just have to trust. Faith is believing God to carry us out of the darkness and into His glorious light.

What Do You Look Like?

How are you identified?

My sister's family was in town. We went to an arts and crafts fair in a trendy section of downtown  Nashville, The Gulch. While there, we met a caricaturist in the Google Fiber booth. He drew our picture. We were amazed at his talent and quickness.

Aside from the artist's giftedness, I was interested in each family member's response. We shared our opinions as to whom the artist captured best. I thought he discovered the essence of my brother-in-law, Jim. My sister, Lori, said, "Oh no, Wanda, his picture of you was the most true-to-life." As we compared our thoughts, I noticed that none of us saw ourselves the way the artist or our family did.

Then the question struck me, do I see myself as my Creator does? I concluded the answer is a resounding, No! I doubt that I see anyone else as the Father does. It's probably not reasonable to think that I can ever truly see through the eyes of Jesus. But, perhaps that needs to be my prayer. Scripture says that God wants to perfect me...and you. Maybe that process begins by seeing the world more clearly through the eyes of a loving forgiving Savior.

Watch Where You're Going

Blog: Keep Your Eyes on Jesus

I was a typical teenager. I couldn’t wait to turn sixteen and get my driver’s license. But somebody had to teach me how to drive. My father had no patience. I dreaded the thought of getting behind the wheel with him in tow. My mother was a nervous driver, and she was scared to teach me how to drive. Fortunately, my sweet patient Uncle Jimmy offered to teach me.

In our small town, there was an old two-lane bridge that had no shoulder at all. From almost anywhere else in town, this bridge had to be crossed to get to and from our house. I remember the first time I had to drive across that bridge. About half way across, I saw a semi coming toward me. I didn’t see how there was space for us to pass one another without colliding. It seemed huge, and we weren’t in a small vehicle either. I was driving my uncle’s brand new 1968 Cadillac. In ’68, most cars were about the size of a boat.

As the truck came near, I considered my choices. Would it be better to die from a head-on collision with a truck or to drown in the car after going head-long over the bridge into the river below? Then I heard my uncle’s gentle voice, “Keep your eyes on the road ahead. Where you look is where you will go.” I hadn’t realized it, but I was veering towards the truck. In my fear, I was watching it instead of the road. Per instruction, I looked ahead, and the car righted itself. We easily passed each other without incident.

My uncle did not intend to state a spiritual truth, but that’s exactly what he did. The apostle Peter, was able to walk on the water as long as he kept his eyes on Jesus. When he looked down toward the roiling sea, he began to sink. My uncle was so right. We will go where our eyes take us, so we need to keep them focused on the Lord, or we may sink into dangerous waters or run head on into a powerful semi.

Intentional Kindness

 

After church, one morning, I went to retrieve four-year-old Jonathan from his class. His teacher asked to speak with me for a moment. I wondered if Jonathan had done something wrong. My mind momentarily went into defense mode, but I patiently waited to see what she had to say. She took me by surprise when her eyes began to tear up. She said that they had a new child visit class that day. He was blind. She said the other children stared at first; then, they went about their play, ignoring him. He couldn’t participate in the same way they did. Jonathan was the one exception. She said he asked the boy if he would like to build something with him. When the child said yes, Jonathan guided him to the blocks. They sat down and played and laughed.  When the visiting family came to pick up their son, they were thrilled that he had found a new friend.

The teacher praised my husband and me for teaching Jonathan to be sensitive to the needs of others, especially those who were “different”. My mother’s pride welled up within me for a few minutes, but then I realized that we weren’t responsible. God had placed a tender spot, within him, that naturally reached out to those in need.

I like to think that I am kind to all people. But, I was compelled to question myself that day. Did I intentionally look for opportunities to engage those who might feel excluded from social interactions, or did I allow perceived differences to keep them at a distance? Jesus didn’t just give the shunned lepers a kind word; He embraced them. In his own way, little Jonathan did the same thing with a blind child. If a four-year-old instinctively responds with intentional kindness, why don’t I?

A Stone Fox and a King

Memory Series – Emotions & Stories

A friend of mine was concerned when her son went to high school. He had a learning disability, and his grades were less than stellar. She was afraid high school would be destructive to his sense of self-worth.

One of his first writing assignments in Language Arts was something like this: What is your favorite book? Expound on this; describe your personal experience with the piece of literature. My friend asked her son what he had written about. His favorite book was Stone Fox, a novel that his teacher had read to his 4^th grade class. She was surprised he remembered it. He recalled that at the end, when a dog died, the entire class was in tears, including the teacher. When she closed the book the room was totally silent for a moment. The class shared an experience that was relatable to all of them. There were no snickers about tears, because they were one in that emotional moment. The young man made an excellent grade, and his mom stopped worrying so much. She told me about this, because I was his 4^th grade teacher. She wanted me to know I made a lasting impression on her son by introducing this book to him.

Think about the books you’ve read and the movies you’ve seen. What are your  favorites? Chances are, they were ones in which you laughed out loud or you shed tears. I laughed with abandon when I first saw Robin Williams as Mrs. Doubtfire, and I couldn’t stop the tears when I read Corrie ten Boom’s The Hiding Place. Storytelling often goes hand in hand with an emotional component. It is one of the greatest tools we have to stimulate memory.

When teaching the history of early Germanic tribes, I would talk about Charlamagne, King of the Franks. I told my students of my German heritage and explained that my maiden name was Franks. I told them that a missed question on most tests would only count four or five points against them. However, I personally thought odds were that I was probably of royal heritage. I was a Franks from Germany, so my guess was  Charlamagne was my Great, Great, Great, however many Greats, Grandfather. Though I could accept most errors on a test, I would consider it to be a personal affront to my family if they failed to remember dear Great Grandpa was King of the Franks.

Ten or twelve years after I left that school and moved to another state, I returned to the area for a wedding. At the reception, I heard the loud voice of a young woman proclaim, “Charlamagne, King of the Franks”! Sure enough, it was a former student.

Yes, this was a silly story. It’s unlikely I would have any relation to this royal family. I said it, because I was looking for the information to stick, and it served its purpose.

When moved to laughter or tears, or even better, both, we will likely remember the experience for years to come. Some African tribes have passed down their history through tribal griots, storytellers. This oral history has sufficed for centuries, because the gifted storyteller has woven history into a relatable, emotional tale that each parent is inspired to tell their children.

Stories, with emotions, are powerful in their ability to instill long-term memory. When working with children or the aging, tell stories. Laugh and cry together. Create a shared moment that you will both love to remember.
                                                     
                                                    

Patsy Cline is Dead?

When our granddaughter was four or five-years-old, she would listen to music as she drifted off to sleep. Some of her favorites were Disney classics,

Taylor Swift, Elvis Presley, and Patsy Cline. For a young child, she had eclectic musical tastes. She would go around the house each day, singing songs from these CDs, trying to mimic the actual performers.

When the Patsy Cline story was presented by an acting troupe at the historic Ryman Auditorium, our daughter-in-law took little Eva to see it. They were both enjoying it until the radio announcer announced Patsy’s plane had gone down. Eva, looking around tearfully said, “What’s wrong with these people? Patsy’s plane has gone down and everyone’s sitting here as if nothing has happened.”

Her mother realized then that Eva was unaware the singer had been dead for many years. She whispered to her daughter, “Honey, Patsy Cline died in this plane crash decades ago.”

Eva screamed, “Patsy Cline is dead? It can’t be. I listened to her singing last night.”

Her mom explained how taped music worked. She then followed up by saying, “It’s just like Elvis. You listen to him, and he’s been dead a long time.”

Eva wailed, “Elvis is dead, too?”

Communication requires both a speaker and a listener, but it’s important to note that the listener is processing the speaker’s information based on her own knowledge and experience. If the listener’s background does not allow her to process the data on an equal footing with the speaker, the connection is broken. Confusion reigns when we tell without asking questions to insure understanding.

The next time you think you are getting through to someone, be careful. Remember, she may not know, "Patsy Cline is dead".