Birds of the field

Yesterday, I brought Dorris home after a long day that included two different doctor appointments in two different towns. She turned to me with a contented smile and said:

“What a delightful day we have had! What prompted this expedition?”

Trust me, Dorris, you do not want to know.

Truth be told, Dorris had an extremely challenging day. She had an early eye appointment with an Ophthalmologist receiving an injection in her eye. In addition to that treatment, she had to navigate an office system not conducive to working with the elderly.Then, because she had a stabbing pain in her back, I made an appointment with her home town doctor. Her day went something like this:

 

Standing, stabbing pain, walking, sitting, stabbing pain, waiting, pain, standing and walking, pain, waiting, answering confusing questions, waiting, eye drops, waiting, standing and walking, winding around tight corners, pain, listening to directions, waiting, pain, waiting, eye injection, walking, pain-now in both her back and her eye, long ride in car, pain, walking, pain, sitting, answering questions, pain, x-rays, understanding directions, pain, long ride in car, walking back into the building with pain.

Did I mention there was pain involved?

In addition to that, she spent the day not being able to see the trees when outside or to read her paper when inside – her two favorite things.

This is Dorris’ definition of a delightful day. She is such a good role model for me. 

 

Of course, her memory loss is helping the situation a bit. She is able to relegate the recent past to the dust bin that is stuffed full of many other memories. Her memories of the day did not dictate her feelings at that moment as she spent a few minutes outside on a beautiful sunny day. 

I could learn from that.

She has also learned to set aside current anxiety. When the doctors and nurses give her directions she looks at me and says that I will need to be her memory. Then I have to remind the nurse or doctor to write it down, because I can’t seem to get them to remember that Dorris needs memory care and these directions need to go to the good people who care for her. 

Whenever Dorris needs to be taken to another eye appointment, I get geared up and stressed; pumping adrenalin and every other stress hormone I can muster. She just willingly comes along knowing that I will take care of things. She has way too much trust in me. 

I need to pray for some of this trust and forgetfulness. If Dorris can trust me, why can’t I put trust in a God who can actually deliver? Why do I let memories of previous experiences plague me with new worries? 

 

God knows the past, present and future. I can have Dorris’ best interests at heart, but God knows AND accomplishes my best interests. And He does this every day; all the time.

When I sit in a poorly run doctor’s office and wait, I merely fume and stew; Dorris just experiences and lives. A good friend, someone who walked her mother through the journey of Alzheimer’s, recently reminded me that one of the blessings of not being able to create memories is to simply live in the moment. That is a great definition of trust.

 

 “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” (Matthew 6: 25-34 ESV)

Birds of the air and lilies of the field do not make memories. They live in the moment; doing the work God puts before them. 

I understand that thinking about future needs and planning are important. This is part of good stewardship. I just need to let go of the worry and anxiety parts. 

Which brings me back to God and my favorite prayer:

“I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24b ESV)

Workers in the lemon field

Some people say that when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. However, the age-old adage does not tell you what to do when life squirts lemon juice in your eye.

I recently got some discouraging news; thankfully, not tragic news, but, discouraging none-the-less.  It is news that puts our family in a bit of a financial pinch and feels a bit like a slap in the face. 

I am guessing you have also received news like this in the past.  Let’s give ourselves a few minutes to enjoy a pity party.  No, those are not tears in my eye, just lemon juice.

Okay, it is time to put on our big girl panties and move on.

God will provide for my family.  And if it takes an extra semester to finish my degree, then I will work from the assumption that this is part of God’s plan.  The question for me is why does this event feel like betrayal? Why do I feel like I have been cast aside along with all of my hard work? Why do I feel that evidence of my past good work should have prevented this from happening?

Hmmm, I am thinking the odds are good that this comes down to a sinful flaw.  I am a sinner, after all.

I have been reading and thinking about the story from Matthew 20 about the workers in the field.  The owner of the field recruited workers five times over the course of the day.  Some workers labored all day in the hot sun, some worked about an hour, but they all received the same pay. Harder work, better work, longer work, or even a good report from the supervisor (or, perhaps in my case, good student evaluations); none of it made a difference. There was no reward; just pay for honest work.

I seemed to find myself caught up in the earthly idea of extrinsic motivation. If I work hard, life will give back. If I follow the rules and keep my nose to the grindstone, I will be rewarded and that will make me want to work all the harder.

Hmm, this extrinsic motivation stuff is not working for me.  Moreover, it does not leave much room for faith.

Here is another passage about laborers:

“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. (Matthew 9:37-38, ESV)

It would be a mistake to read into this verse that God needs us to do His work.  God is God; He does not need anything.  In fact, when we come in as laborers, we just muck things up.  

God does not need us; we need Him. We need to be a part of God’s family and His ministry. We need His mercy and grace.  We need forgiveness and faith.  Even if we work all day, in the hot sun, and find there is no money at the end of the pay line, we still get what we need.

“For we are God’s fellow workers.  You are God’s field, God’s building.” (I Corinthians 3:9, ESV)

This is God’s message to me, today.  I am on His staff.  He graciously gives me work to do.  He blesses that work.  He cares for me. 

No earned reward, just perfect love and loyalty. 

Thank you, God!

Forget or forgive?

Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
    whose sin is covered.
 Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity,
    and in whose spirit there is no deceit.  Psalm 32:1-2 (ESV)

I did it, again.  We had a warm spell and I sent our cat outside for some fresh air.  Then, I promptly forgot her.  Several hours later I let her back in and she instantly forgave me.  She was so excited to be back in the house, to be warm, and to fed that she licked my face clean with appreciation.  She even followed me around, sat in my lap, and purred.  She rarely sits in my lap.  

Her reaction reminded me of a story from THE HOUSE AT POOH CORNER when Rabbit tries to predict a reaction from Tigger:

“Because he’ll be a Humble Tigger.  Because he’ll be a Sad Tigger a Melancholy Tigger, a Small and Sorry Tigger, an Oh-Rabbit-I-am-glad-to-see you Tigger.”  (A.A. Milne)

She forgot I was the one who let her out for so long.  She only knew she was glad to be let in.

We moved Paul’s mother Dorris into a memory care facility last week.  It took only half a day, but it was a busy day.  She and I sorted through her clothes to winnow things down to a more manageable- easier to pick something to wear- number.  We got her into her new room in time to eat lunch with new neighbors and left her hoping she would settle into a nap. 

 

By 7:00pm that evening, she called me over to her new residence.  She could not settle down because nothing seemed familiar.  She did not know anyone, and was convinced no one knew her.  When I got past the locked door and came into her view she came at me so fast I thought she would fall over from pure momentum.  She greeted me with:

 “I am so glad to see you!”   

She followed me around.  Then she gave me a hug; she rarely gives hugs.

We found an employee and discovered that this kind person did indeed know who Dorris was.  We walked to her room and I let her talk and wind down while one-by-one I turned out the lights.  It seemed vaguely familiar to the procedure for calming my daughter towards sleepiness when she was younger. 

I could not give Dorris what she wanted: her home, her memory, or even a familiar place.  I was one of four people who had created this misery by moving her for the third time in a little over a year.  Nothing made sense; not even my calm resolute responses to her complaints.

Yet, she was glad to see me. 

We have a Heavenly Father who never forgets.  He never forgets who or where we are.  He never forgets our needs.  He never forgets to bless us.  He never even forgets the number of hairs on our heads.

Yet, He willingly forgets our sin. 

We sin against Him, against our neighbor, and against our better interests and God forgives us and welcomes us with open arms.  He sets aside His omniscience, His perfect and complete knowledge of everything, in order to look at us with love and grace. 

We did not just accidentally leave God locked out of the house, or even move him to an unfamiliar place.  Instead, we killed His Son.

And because of the death and resurrection of His Son, God is glad to see us as His perfect children. 

He is glad to see us.  He is glad to see us, every day. 

Bless the Lord, O my soul,
    and all that is within me,
    bless his holy name!
 Bless the Lord, O my soul,
    and forget not all his benefits,
 who forgives all your iniquity,
    who heals all your diseases, Psalm 103:1-5 (ESV)

May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light.  He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son,  in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. Colossians 1: 11-14 (ESV)

Rend the curtain

Shane Koycsan’s  spoken voice poem called To This Day,  is a poignant description of the effects of bullying.  “Sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me” is a hollow phrase when it is remembered that the long-term effect of name-calling and other harassment is to create a divide, or draw a curtain between the one hearing and the one speaking. 

 

A bullied child is a lonely child.  He/she does not have permission to step into the inner circle.  This lack of acceptance creates a lack of relationship, which can have long-term effects because there is not a way for the child to learn what friendship means.  To learn what it means to love and be loved.

It is not the pain of the name; it is the pain of loneliness and rejection.

Names will hurt; they will hurt for a long, long time.

I frequently noted that the children most likely to bully were not mean or arrogant.  In my assessment, they were afraid.  Often, they were afraid of losing esteem from others or afraid of looking stupid.  More often than not, they were afraid of someone who was different – as if the difference of someone else reflected poorly on them.  If he doesn’t like the same football team, if she doesn’t dress the same way, if he isn’t interested in the same things, if she doesn’t know the rules about what is cool, then maybe what I am doing is wrong. 

The bullied child must be isolated so the insecurities of the bully can be appeased.  

 

Fear becomes contempt.  A curtain is drawn and a child is isolated from a relationship.

I find this to be equally true of adults.

I was thinking about the concept of fear becoming contempt when I was reading Numbers chapter 14.  Here the Children of Israel react in fear to what ten of the spies sent to the promise land have to report:

However, the people who dwell in the land are strong, and the cities are fortified and very large. . . Then the men who had gone up with him said, “We are not able to go up against the people, for they are stronger than we are.”  So they brought to the people of Israel a bad report of the land that they had spied out, saying, “The land, through which we have gone to spy it out, is a land that devours its inhabitants, and all the people that we saw in it are of great height.  Numbers 11: 31. . .32-33 (ESV)

Not even the words of Joshua and Caleb could ease the fear and prevent the Israelites from rebelling against God.  In chapter 14, verse 11, the LORD asks Moses:

“How long will this people despise me?”  Numbers 14: 11 (ESV)

Their fear turned to contempt.  They drew up a curtain and separated themselves from a relationship with God. 

It’s all about the relationship.  When there is a curtain, the relationship suffers.

I know in my heart I am not capable of saving myself.  This creates a fear that permeates my life, and breath, and soul.  One would think that this fear would turn me to God, yet I cling to the sin that I should trust only myself.  God has the strength I desire so my fear about my situation becomes contempt for God. 

My sin, my fear, my lack of trust, my pride all draw up a curtain between God and me. 

And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit. And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split. Matthew 27:50-51

This is God’s response to my fear and my contempt.  Jesus gives His life and God’s love rips the curtain from top to bottom.

  

It’s all about the relationship.  In bullying and in faith; it’s about the relationship. And only God can mend that relationship.

Here are God’s words to those who are being bullied and to those of us who draw our own relationship curtains: TRUST

Be gracious to me, O God, for man tramples on me;
    all day long an attacker oppresses me;
 my enemies trample on me all day long,
    for many attack me proudly.
 When I am afraid,
    I put my trust in you.
 In God, whose word I praise,
    in God I trust; I shall not be afraid.
    What can flesh do to me?

 All day long they injure my cause;
    all their thoughts are against me for evil.
 They stir up strife, they lurk;
    they watch my steps,
    as they have waited for my life.
For their crime will they escape?
    In wrath cast down the peoples, O God!

You have kept count of my tossings;
    put my tears in your bottle.
    Are they not in your book?
 Then my enemies will turn back
    in the day when I call.
    This I know, thatGod is for me.
 In God, whose word I praise,
    in the Lord, whose word I praise,
 in God I trust; I shall not be afraid.
    What can man do to me? Psalm 56: 1-11