Her.meneutics: Multitasking: Bad for the Soul

Her.meneutics: Multitasking: Bad for the Soul Read it once. Read it twice. Read it until it sinks in and then live it.

Lazy Days of Summer?

I see my last post was Friday.  Today is Monday.  Monday NIGHT even.  Obviously, life has not been so quiet.  It's been noisy.  Busy.  But good.

In the past few days I've been surrounded by family and friends and focused on celebrating an upcoming marriage.  In my family, we are also anticipating the arrival of a new baby in the early fall; a grandchild starting school; a new job; and various other happy events.

In the past few days I've also been given the opportunity to pray for someone I count as a friend; to pray for family; and even for our little black dog whose eye was looking none too good Sunday night.

In the upcoming days I will be launching into a new project; doing detail work to wrap up another and send it into someone else's hands for a while; savoring the last few short weeks of summer vacation.

I realize that, while I've enjoyed the season, I've really done very little of the things I relish most about it:  reading on the deck; evening strolls around the neighborhood watching for fireflies and smelling the mimosas; morning walks with coffee to the Xeroscape.  I've been turned out more than in.  I've been doing a lot.

I suppose there are seasons of life that are like that.  Busy seasons.  Conversely, there are restful seasons.  Seasons when we're tempted to feel bored or ineffective.  But in those seasons we can be assured that we are experiencing a much-needed rest.  Even in nature we see the dormancy.  There is a distinct beauty in it.  I recall a Robert Frost poem:  My November Guest (a favorite of mine which I memorized in high school and still recite to myself on those cool, misty gray days I love so well).  "These dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be. . ."

God put the seasons in place.  Each season has its own purpose in the life cycle of plants and animals.  Why not for humans as well?  As summer marches on, allow yourself to experience it.  Don't stay huddled inside by the air conditioner all day long.  Spend a few minutes outdoors.  Notice the lush green trees.  Listen to the cicadas.  Enjoy the flash of the fireflies.  Wonder at the power of a sudden summer storm.  Soon, these things will gracefully pass, yielding to another of God's well-designed seasons with all its own purposes and glories.  Let your own life reflect those glories in the pace you keep.

The Paradox of Peace in Fear and the Power of Quiet Living

This morning I was up early.  I hadn't slept well throughout the night and before five o'clock got tired of waiting for morning and got up anyway.  I'm not a morning person.  At all.  So, I have great difficulty concentrating for prayer or study in the a.m.  My husband, on the other hand, finds the morning perfect for his study and prayer.  I'm jealous sometimes of that.  Today, though, pretty much wide awake, if tired, I decided to take advantage of the still quiet house and go ahead with some prayer and study.  I picked up my Stott's Through the Bible Through the Year and read from Week 46:  Resisting the Pressures of the World.  The scripture reference was II Timothy 3:13-14 and the meditation suggested that the most striking characteristic of the last days was "misdirected love".  The devotional went on to discuss the types of behaviors, general lack of concern for others and complete focus on self, that would be prevalent in the last days.  Paul, the writer of the letter, two times in the chapter says to Timothy, "But as for you," indicating that Timothy was not to let himself become like the world around him.  He was to remember what he had learned and from whom he had learned it and continue in those teachings.

When I was in my twenties, I decided I needed to have my own faith.  I'd accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior when I was ten, but as a young adult determined I needed to know why I believed what I believed.  I studied hard, using writings that were not necessarily those of my own faith community or even of any faith community at all (I remember specifically consulting a book on feminism) in parallel with Holy Scripture.  Some people believe this is a dangerous practice.  I am glad I did it.  When I closed up the books (excepting the Bible), I put them away for good and the teachings they held never tempted or troubled me again.  I was able to say with certainty that the faith I had in Jesus Christ was complete and personal, not just a hand-me-down faith or a family tradition.  Yes, I'm very glad I studied.  Jesus was faithful to protect me by His Spirit.  He knew my heart was to know Him more.

There's a peace in that certainty; a real, deep-seated peace - the one that passes understanding.  It's a gift.  It is born of holy fear which is the beginning of wisdom.  The beginning.  Yes, fear and peace co-exist in faith.  I stand in awe of Him, overwhelmed by His power, goodness, might, and presence; I am at peace with Him, quiet before Him, resting in Him, following Him.

One of my favorite portions of scripture is just before Stephen was martyred.  He had preached the fullness of the gospel to those who should have known it best.  Nearing his end, he lifted his eyes up and he saw Heaven.

Acts 7:55-60 tells us:  But he, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God, and said, "Behold, I see the  heavens opened up and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God."  Then they cried out with a loud voice, and stopped their ears, and ran upon him with one accord, and cast him out of the city and stoned him. . .and they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." And he kneeled down and cried with a loud voice, "Lord, lay not this sin to their charge."  And when he had said this, he fell asleep.


This is the picture of a man who knows what he believes, knows why he believes it, believes it with his whole heart, and is in right fear of God.  Stephen's assurance of his salvation allowed him to remain in the Spirit; to see what He would show Stephen; to speak the words God wanted spoken; to remain faithful even under attack; focused on Jesus and the promise of new life in Heaven; and to use his last breath to request forgiveness for those who killed him.  Wow.

Stephen followed the twelve who followed Christ and continued in the teachings to his end.  Timothy followed Paul and had the advantage (as I did) of having been taught the Word from an early age.  He continued to his end.  These men's lives were marked with courage, holy fear, and undying peace.  Their words were born of love for Christ and love for the brothers and so they spoke directly, but in gentleness.  Those in the early church who "shook up the world" did so in the most unassuming ways.  They didn't set out to make spectacles of themselves or to "redeem" the icons and traditions of the culture in order to Christianize them.   They spoke the truth they knew in their hearts whenever they had opportunity.  They were brave when they needed to be brave.  They were forgiving, loving, and kind.  They instructed with gentleness in the power of the Spirit.  They lived quiet lives and shone like cities on a hill.

There is so much to be gained by being still.  By meditation and prayer.  By quiet living.

What's the Buzz?

I finally made the foray into Facebook after much stubborn refusal to do so.  In fewer than 24 hours I've been happily receiving messages and well-wishes and all kinds of things from friends and friends of friends and would-be friends.  Fascinating.  I've been all a-buzz.  It's a good time to remember my favorite verse, or, what some would term my "life verse".  It is the verse I find so comforting, so convicting, so captivating.  It is like a warm blanket, a cleansing sigh.  I share it with you and ask you to let the truth of it settle deep in your spirit, as I intend to do now.

Be still and know that I am God  (Psalm 46:10a)


Be still.  Know.  Amen.

Shadows

Yesterday morning I was sitting in our morning room looking out at the petunias I'd planted.  The sun was showing across the tops of the blooms, but below was shadow.  I thought it was very pretty.  This evening I glanced up and saw a stunning display:  a large cloud all lit up bright white; above and below it, crossing it even, were dark clouds.  The contrast was beautiful.  I enjoy photography with strong elements of light and shadow, black and white mainly.  It's eye-catching and can really create a mood.

One of my favorite characteristics of God, however, is His steadfastness.  In Him is no shadow of turning (James 1:17).  I never have to wonder about God.  Jesus is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow (Hebrews 13:8).  This trait of constancy, of unyielding sameness is the result of pure, uncompromising truth.  It's a tremendous comfort to know He who holds the universe in His hands is not given to fits of rage;  is not swayed by clever, persuasive words; is not controlled by emotions.  What He does is good and He gives to us in abundance!

Every good and perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning (James 1:17).


When I was in grade school, my class was involved in a PTA program.  I don't remember much about it except we sang a song with lyrics that said something about, "My home's in Montana, I wear a bandanna, my spurs are of silver my pony is gray".  We were supposed to dress cowboyish for our performance.  My dad, who loves to give gifts, surprised me with a cute little cowgirl outfit and pink bandanna to wear.  I was so happy.  That gift was an expression of his love for me and his pride in what I was doing.  Obviously, it touched my heart as I am 42 years old and still remember it!  My dad did lots of things to make me feel special.

How much more should I praise my Heavenly Father who provides not only for my needs every day, but gives gifts to me just because it pleases Him to do so?  Moreover, He saves my soul!

If you ever feel disturbed, unimportant, unloved, or just restless, I suggest you take a moment and look at creation.  Here, God has revealed His glory and no one can deny Him.  Look at the play of light and shadow and think about his faithfulness.  Look at the birds and remember His provision for you.  Listen to the breeze and recall how His spirit moves.  We have so very much to be thankful for.

All Consuming

It's summer.  I always have to have a project in the summer.  This year it was to finish the novel I'm writing in time to query an agent with it before school starts.  It may happen and it may not.  I write not so much from the discipline of it, but for the pleasure and that makes my deadlines very fluid as far as I'm concerned.  Usually around early August, if not late July, I'm feeling a little restless and ready to get back to doing something productive with my day.  Back to work.  This year it seems to be happening to me a little earlier.  I'm not resting as well at night and am feeling restless during the day.  My house is clean.  That's good.  The cupboards have groceries in them.  That's good.  My closet is even tidy.  That's very good.  I'm alternating between consuming and consuming - snacks and goods.  Not the best choices.

Do you have times of boredom?  The routine is just too routine or you feel like you're a living example of  Solomon's profundity:  there's nothing new under the sun?  Too many days spent that way can consume you by turning you into a consumer.  Swallowing up hours of television, cart loads of  products, towers to treats.  Your mind turns to mush and then when you try to turn it toward something of value, like a book, it's hard to focus.  Your  ability to concentrate has been minimized.  It's a vicious cycle.

I suspect Jesus never got bored.  He often went off to be alone, to find a quiet place to pray; but even then He was focused.  He had a limited number of years to accomplish all He'd been sent to do.  He knew time was precious.

You see, that's the paradox for me.  If someone wastes my money, I'm a little irritated by it.  But, let someone waste my time and I am irate.  Time can never be retrieved.  Once it's gone, it's gone.  To waste it is an absolute sin!  Yet, here I am wasting my own time.  I, like Jesus, have a limited number of years to accomplish the things I've been placed here to do.  I know time is precious.  I know that even in the midst of my quiet life I need to be working toward something.  The farmer who sows and waters and waits is expecting a harvest.  My life's work can't be simply for the day only.  There must be a harvest in the end.

So, here I am on July 5th.  It's still over a month until I have to be back at school getting ready for the first day.  That's ample time to accomplish something.  I want it to be something of worth.  Maybe instead of consuming I should give?  Maybe instead of wasting time wandering room to room or shop to shop, paging through book after book and magazine after magazine, surfing site to site, I should consider investing time in something of value:  someone.  Could you, too?

Right now, I'm signing off.  I'm going to find someone to serve in some way today.

Legacy from Bethany

Last week my husband and I did some rearranging of our rooms.  Rearranging caused a dire need for sorting and weeding out of valuable things like books and not so valuable things like old 3-ring binders we'd accumulated through our years as teachers.  We also had to find a new place to store some of our c.d.s.  We needed something big enough, but not too big; attractive enough to set out; and functional - we wanted to be able to see and get to the music we wanted.  We settled on some baskets.  In sorting through all the c.d.s, though, I ran across a few I'd forgotten about over the years.  One favorite in particular is a CeCe Wynans album with the song Alabaster Box on it.  That song never fails to make me cry.

Now, I can cry at a good many songs for a lot of different reasons.  Music is touching on so many levels.  But this one makes me cry for the same reason the story in scripture it's taken from makes me cry:  I realize what a price has been paid for me, how unworthy I am to have received such love, and how much I take it for granted.

When Jesus came to Bethany before His crucifixion, he had dinner at a man's home.  While He ate, a woman came in with a beautiful alabaster jar which held expensive perfume [which was probably her greatest possession - what would be her legacy].  She poured the perfume over Jesus head and, without regard to the presence of others, she bathed His feet in it, wiping them with her hair.  When the others complained about the waste of something so valuable, Jesus defended her sharply.  He declared that wherever the Good News of Him was preached anywhere in the world forevermore, her actions would be remembered (Mark 14:3-9).


What a legacy that is!  To have touched the Savior's heart so much so that He attached your gesture, your personal expression of gratitude and love for Him, to His own gospel story.

Today is the 4th of July.  Independence Day for our nation.  Today we celebrate our freedom which is the legacy we have been left.  It's the one we fight to protect, defend, and promote.  We remember those who have died for its cause.  We consider the cost of what we take for granted nearly every other day of the long calendar year.  We light up the sky and mimic the noises of battle in our celebrations.  We often spare a few moments between pulling hot dogs and burgers from the grill and waiting for the sky to get dark to really consider what we've got, what it's worth to us each personally.  And even then, we really have no idea.

I often think about the women I knew as I was growing up.  I watched them in church and I learned from their examples - both good and bad.  I don't have any daughters of my own, but I do have many daughters in the students I've taught through the years and the little girls who do the same things I did when I was young - watch me at church and learn from my example.  I want to be someone they remember, even if they don't recall my name, as the lady who was gentle, serene, content, calm, thoughtful, considerate, gracious and kind.  These descriptors applied to me would please me very much.  But, I know that at the heart of it, it's a matter of the heart.  Anyone can affect these attributes.  I want them to grow honestly from a soul that's been saved, that recognizes the cost of that salvation and is eternally grateful for it.  I want my legacy to be the expression of love of my Savior as Mary's was at Bethany.  Personal even in the midst of public scrutiny; an unwaivering quiet devotion.

Her.meneutics: The Faith of Our Mothers

The link I'm providing to a Her.meneutics post is dated just about one year ago. I just found it tonight. Interesting that lately I've been thinking about legacies. We all leave one whether or not we have children to leave one to. We leave something of ourselves on this earth with the people who knew us and loved us, or not.

The other night I had a horrible dream which I won't detail here, but suffice it to say, had I fulfilled what I believe to be one of the calls on my life before the crucial moment in my dream, there would have been a much happier end to the drama. I don't believe in dream-signs, but I do believe our dreams sometimes reflect our concerns, our curiosities, our cravings. I think my dream was an outgrowth of my pondering my legacy.

Living the quiet life does not mean you have no impact on the world around you. Quite the opposite. Look again at the direction in I Thesalonians 4:11-12: live quietly so that people who don't know Christ will respect how you live. This is not just an issue of having someone's admiration for how you've chosen to live; your quiet life is to become your witness to an unsaved world. This becomes your legacy. It's that important.

Emily Dickinson wrote: This is my letter to the world that never wrote to me. . . I do not need the praise of the world. I merely want to hear my Jesus say to me, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant." What legacy are you leaving?

Her.meneutics: The Faith of Our Mothers

The Good Shepherd

The past two years I have been a Library Media Specialist in elementary schools.  Prior to that, my teaching experience was high school.  I still remember my first day with a kindergarten class.  I was horrified!  It was the first day of school for them, but I felt like I'd walked into life on another planet.  I didn't understand what was going on.  There were little, squirmy, babbling creatures rolling around on the floor with complete disregard for the fact that an adult was standing there two feet away giving them direction.  Once in a while I'd catch sight of a little face looking my way or distinguish one voice out of the crowd saying, "I want my mommy."  I was trapped with aliens, or might as well have been.  And I was supposed to be in charge!  When trying to describe my experiences to people who are not in the schools, the best analogy I could ever come up with was that teaching kindergarten is like trying to herd be-bes.  After two years I got much, much better with my little kindergarten friends; but I only had to teach them once a week for a half hour.  Their classroom teachers, on the other hand, got the pleasure of several hours a day with them in a smaller room come rain or come shine.  I grew to revere kindergarten teachers; I also made haste to apply for a return to high school.  I'm a chicken when it comes to little kids.  They're too much work.  So demanding.  So needy.  So self-centered.  So stubborn.  So . . . so everything I am on the inside, but mask pretty well most days on the outside.

I think every adult feels rather like a kindergärtner on the inside most days.  Some days I'm unruly.  I don't want to listen.  I don't want to follow directions.  I don't want to play nice.  I have neglected good nutrition in favor of sweets or I have failed to get enough rest and now I'm fussy.  I can throw a pretty good tantrum if I let myself.

There was a time in Israel's past when a king was sent to them.  He was appointed by God to be the ruler of Israel and in II Samuel 5:2, the people reminded him of the Lord's words to him:  "You will be the shepherd of my people Israel."  That king was David.  The children of Israel needed a shepherd, but no more so than all people need a shepherd.  Which is why God sent word through one of his prophets, Micah, that a ruler of Israel would come from Bethlehem to lead his flock with the Lord's strength and the majesty of the name of the Lord his God and he would be the source of peace (Micah 5:2-5).  In John 10:14-15, Jesus said, "I am the good shepherd; I know my own sheep, and they know me just as my father knows me and I know the father.  So I sacrifice my life for the sheep." 

When we think about the quiet life, we have to consider Jesus, because He is our perfect example of obedience to any command of God.  He lived it.  As Shepherd, Jesus is our caretaker.  He provides for our needs both spiritually and physically; guards us against the enemy by teaching us the truth; and He loves us, calling us each by name and speaking to us so that we come to know the sound of His voice.  He is gentle and kind, protective and loving.  We are his sheep.

Jesus showed us what quiet strength looks like.  Even in physical pain and mental and emotional torment, Jesus faced his accusers and, fulfilling the prophecy about Him, was silent as a sheep before its shearers (Isaiah 53:7; Acts 8:32).  He laid down his life for us.  No one took it from Him.  He gave it.  Without fight.  Without fuss.  With dignity and full faith that God would do as He had promised.  And He did.

Jesus is still our shepherd.  He is returning one day soon and He will be our Shepherd, leading us to springs of life-giving water (Revelation 7:17).  Until that day, we are to follow Him, listen for His voice, obey His commands.  We are to be like Him.  That means we can show the same care of the Shepherd to others of the flock as Jesus told Simon Peter in John 21:16 - if you love Me, take care of my sheep.

Who are you a picture of the Shepherd to today?  Whether it's a class full of kindergärtners, a brood of teenagers, an unsaved relative or friend, you tend to them as the good Shepherd tends to you - in quiet strength.  Stay away from brow-beating, nagging, shouting and ranting.  Forgive.  Live in just this moment and recognize the importance of it.  Give your mind wholly to Jesus who will guard it and ask Him to place a seal over your mouth until you can speak His words alone, because they will be the ones the sheep in your life need to hear.  You'll probably find they are the very words you need to hear, too.  Go slowly today.  Breathe.  Listen for His voice, though it be still and small.  Then follow your shepherd so those following you will not be lost or hurt along the way.

Mind Your Own Business

Today my husband and I had lunch at a little neighborhood cafe'.  It was so pleasant out we decided to sit on the patio with our meal.  For once, we noticed how no one seated there had an overly loud voice that dominated the patio (usually there's someone in the vicinity who seems to think what she is talking about should be of concern to everyone within earshot).  We enjoyed the music, the breeze, the meal.  Thinking back on it now, as I've considered again the directive in I Thessalonians 4:11 to mind your own business, I realize that more than a few of my thoughts during our meal were on things that should have been absolutely no concern of mine.  For instance, I noticed the table manners of a woman across the way and considered them boorish.  I thought about why some people choose to wear strongly scented colognes which intrude on others (someone was wearing a particular fragrance I dislike today).  I observed two older women come in and thought their clothes were very pretty, but probably expensive.  A young teenage girl chewed with her mouth open.  Yes, I noticed and judged quite a bit in that hour I sat there with my delicious hummus salad, warm pita bread, and loving husband.  How little did my thoughts toward others reflect the thoughts of their Creator toward them?

David writes in Psalm 40:5 that the thoughts of God toward us cannot be recounted; they are more than can be numbered.  Again, in Psalm 139, David declares:  "How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.  They cannot be numbered!  I can't even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand!  And when I wake up, you are still with me!"  Bravely, he concludes in verses 23-24:  "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.  Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life."

What is it to me if a young lady at the next table hasn't yet become self-aware enough yet to realize she is being less than polite at the dinner table or if someone else's idea of a pleasing scent is different than mine?  How many times have I exhibited less than perfect manners or worn a perfume that someone else found distasteful?  Thank God that His thoughts are higher than mine - He has much more wonderful things to concern Himself with than whether or not my fashion choices match up with current opinion on what a 40-something woman should wear.  Things like the fact that at that cafe', in that area that seats about 28 people, there were in that hour 19 patrons and two wait staff - that's 21 souls.  I know for certain that two of them are saved.  There were 19 left I could have prayed for.  Had my thoughts been in line with God's, that's what I would have done.

The quiet life includes minding your own business.  Today, take an inventory of your thought life.  How often are your thoughts focused on other people and what are you thinking about them?  Consider how much of your mental and emotional energy is taken up by thinking about things that really aren't your concern and by focusing on and judging others when you have no real right to.  Then determine to align your thoughts toward others with the thoughts of God toward them.  You'll notice a difference in yourself, I promise you.  And, while sitting up straight is proper wherever you are, the posture of humility you'll assume before the Creator when you do this will be pleasing in His sight.  That's what matters, after all.