Prodigal Son Revisited

I've always felt sorry for the prodigal son's brother. I've heard sermons likening him to the Pharisees, condemning him for being proud and contemptuous of his wayward brother, and disrespectful of his father. Still, I can't help but feel he got the short end of the stick, in more ways than one.

As the parent of two sons, each of whom has commanded the lion's share of my attention at different points, I have at times fallen into the classic parent trap - fretting over the one who's getting in trouble, while allowing the status quo one to fend for himself. The theory goes, if it's not broke, don't fix it; ergo, we leave the well performing child to continue, well, performing well, while thrusting our gaze (and efforts) onto every mess made by the erring child.

This makes sense up to a point. Some situations demand to be handled now. No one is going to walk away from a grease fire without trying to snuff out the flames, or at the very least, bellowing for help. On the other hand, it would be foolhardy to smother a blaze in one burner, then fail to check for any lingering sparks in the other three. This is precisely what we do when we try to straighten out the "misbehaver," all the while ignoring the well-doer(s).

Today I spoke with a single mom whose adult child is wreaking havoc in her own life and the rest of the family's. This mother's decision to remove her daughter from the home, while heartbreaking, reminded me of all the principles I've gleaned from 20 years in Al Anon. Her refusal to allow herself or her other children to be held hostage to one child's destructive decisions not only threw a safety net around the other offspring, but could well prove a lifeline to the offender. Enabling, as 12-step recovery programs attest, rarely produces anything except reinforcement of bad behavior. Conversely, requiring accountability and responsibility from even the neediest wrongdoer offers at least a slim chance of change for the better (as well as proving we have faith in our child's ability to overcome his or her demons).

So if I had the ear of the prodigal son's dad, I think I'd say something like this: it's fine to watch and wait for your missing son, so long as you don't neglect the one who's doing his duty. Reconciliation with your wastrel is a worthy goal, but so is recognition of the one who's been doing right all along.

Life is a Full-time Job

Isn't it? Do you, like me, sometimes feel that 24 hours is far too short a time span to accomplish the tasks that lie before you? Do you struggle to keep up with the business aspects of your life, or maybe shortchange non-mandatory things like keeping in touch with a friend who lives at a distance, or visiting a sick relative? Have you ever felt your kids needed more of your time than you could spare because their needs were cutting into grocery shopping time or - heaven forbid - your obligation to the almighty work place?

I've had to take a step back recently and think about what's really important. I'm having a room renovated in my house, and there's spackle dust everywhere. Work has been busy; I have a weekend job, as well as my full-time job, and the demands of both have been heavy lately. I've been putting time into relationships with family and friends, both of which are essential to my role as a single mom. But, as a single parent, it's critical that I be available for my sons.

Where does God fit into all this?

For a long time, I used to offer up my schedule and priorities to the Lord on a daily basis. But of late I've been trying to fit it all in and squeeze in maybe ten minutes with Him before work in the morning. It's just not enough, and I've been feeling the results of trying to carry a load that was never mine to begin with.

So I've made it a point these last couple of days, when illness and fatigue kept me homebound, to put more effort into my "vertical" relationship. I placed communion with heaven ahead of earthly, "horizontal" affairs. An incredible thing happened. I spent a lot of time working on my connection with God, after which I still had time to tackle some of the matters that were being neglected. I guess Jesus was right when He told us to "seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Matthew 6:33).

Life is a full-time job. But we must never forget that God is our employer.

Weeds

My friend Cindy loves to garden. She has beautified the space she lives in just by adding loving touches like color and hardscape. She also "tithes" on the skills God has endowed her with by donating much time to landscaping at her church.

Yesterday, she decided to do "a little cleanup" after attending a Bible study at her house of worship. The job looked simple enough. Just some trees she wanted to extricate from the overgrowth that was obscuring their beauty and feeding on their nutrients. Five and a half hours later, she was grimy from removing a massive group of vines that had become tangled around an otherwise healthy tree. Every time she thought she was done, there was yet another layer of roots that had embedded themselves into the surrounding soil. She noted clinically that, while she was working, a group of men from the church showed up for an outside activity. Dressed and prepped for the great outdoors, they nevertheless failed to offer assistance to the obviously struggling young woman. The pastor, likewise, passed her without comment or even offering a drink of water.

When I stated that these oversights would have angered me, Cindy replied that she merely found them interesting and analogous to the sin problem many churches face. On the surface, things look like they're going along fine. There might be critical murmurings or minor dissension, just like those weeds that looked so manageable before she started tackling them. But we don't have to finish what we fail to begin, so many times we simply overlook the symptoms of a larger problem so as not to get our hands dirty. And eventually those weeds - tares, really - turn out to be only the tip of a colossal undergrowth of life-killing manglers that we would have discovered if only we had dared disturb the surface.

Is Cindy looking to cause problems, stir the pot, as it were? Heaven forbid. This Godly woman labors for her Lord because she loves Him with all her heart and soul and mind (Matthew 22:37); she's not looking for recognition or help, unless others feel the call to give it. Neither is she suggesting believers dig around in healthy gardens looking for worms. I think she would agree, though, that we ought not avoid obvious signs of trouble just because the task looks unappealing.

For more like this, check out: Morsels for Meditation...: Weeds 2

Morsels for Meditation...: Tenacity

Deliverance Part 2, AKA, Jurassic Park Revisited

After rereading my entry from April 20 and hearing my pastor preach on 2 Chronicles 20 since then, I need to amend one of the conclusions I drew before. I previously stated that God appointed unidentified attackers to fight the battle that faced His people in this chapter. I now realize the ambushes that defeated Judah's enemies were the enemies themselves! There were three armies threatening Judah, all of whom  turned on each other, leaving God's people to just show up for the "door prizes" (see v. 25).

This reminded me of the first time I watched the classic film, Jurassic Park. My sister Jo Ann, who had seen the movie before, tried to build suspense by telling me just enough without giving anything away. As we viewed the culminating scene, she promised with a sly smile, "Help comes from an unexpected source." If you haven't seen the movie, here's where you may want to stop reading, as I'm about to spill the beans.Who could have predicted the T-rex would show up at crunch time to devour the velociraptors that had cornered our heroes?

In similar fashion, the Almighty bailed me out of my recent protracted trial. When He was ready to move, His actions were sudden, stunning, and unmistakable. I had no clue what curve-throwing means He would use to spring me. I had braced myself for the long haul, so was delighted at this heavenly change-up.

Ephesians 1:13 claims that we as God's children demonstrate "the praise of His glorious grace." It really is all about the glory. His glory. He's entitled to it when He acts miraculously on our behalf, but is no less deserving when He leaves us in the trenches. If anything, the tougher the ordeal, the harder He works to get us through it.

For more like this, check out: Morsels for Meditation...: Deliverance

Morsels for Meditation...: Sleep on It

Morsels for Meditation...: God Rather Than Men

Sheep, AKA, Shadow of Doubt

There never seems to be a shortage of news stories about people's missteps. Politicians and preachers are accused of infidelity, warranting streams of speculation and ridicule. Parents' poor choices result in public criticism and mass judgment. Everyone seems to want to jump on the bandwagon and make light of other people's embarrassment, regardless of how much or little actual evidence there may be. Caustic Jay Leno monologues solidify the ill-researched opinions we form from two-minute news clips on TV.

I have one question. Why?

Why, in a society driven by fact-finding, do we allow ourselves to be so easily led by common opinion? Why, when most of us at one time or another have felt the sting of gossip and contempt, are we so unwilling to give a fellow sufferer the benefit of the doubt?

While carting my son and a friend around in the car recently, I was struck by their preoccupation with the local news. Several stories centered around the alleged wrongdoing of some local arrestees, one of whom was known to them, and the boys were all over it. They seemed to find these people's predicaments comical. I was stunned and appalled by their lack of sensitivity to the damage being done to reputations and relationships, as they plunged into unreasoned conclusions based on one-sided presentations. The shadow of doubt that clever lawyers thrust into the face of hard evidence would have been a welcome companion - for once - to the biased reports we saw. Of the nearly half dozen newscasts we caught about these events, only one presented anything positive about the accused; the rest were short, choppy, and inflammatory.

Maybe the phrase "freedom of the press" should be changed to "long live yellow journalism."

I remember seeing a TV movie once about a man falsely accused - and tried and condemned in the media - of sexual assault. The court of public opinion proved too much for this innocent man, and he chose to opt out of life rather than keep fighting for his reputation. I wonder how well I would withstand heartless scrutiny under similar circumstances.

The donkeys and elephants may be vying for election, but for the moment it's all about the sheep.

"'Do not judge, or you too will be judged.  For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?  How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.'" Matthew 7:1-5

Deliverance

I'm excited to report that God has removed a very tough faith challenge from my life. I had been struggling for many months with a difficult, uncomfortable trial that has given me, the queen of afternoon naps, agita and insomnia. In grappling with the situation, I had imagined numerous ways in which the Lord might intervene, if He chose to change my circumstances at all. At last I resigned myself to accepting things as they were, and prayed for strength to hang on until deliverance came. In less than a week, He moved creatively, definitively, and beyond the narrow scope of my imaginings. Not only was I removed from the furnace, but God granted me a lovely new situation to replace the old hair-raising one. The kicker: I did nothing but show up for the miracle.

In my efforts to cope with the turmoil I felt during those trying months, I had availed myself of much Scripture in which God's people stood up under the divine refining process. Perhaps my favorite story is 2 Chronicles 20, in which King Jehoshophat learns just how inventive God can be in helping His people overcome adversity. I love how God's spokesman tells the worried king, "Listen, King Jehoshaphat and all who live in Judah and Jerusalem! This is what the LORD says to you: ‘Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s. Tomorrow march down against them... You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the LORD will give you, Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them tomorrow, and the LORD will be with you." (vv. 15-17). In the end, God appoints unidentified attackers to crush Israel's enemies, while His people stand watching from the sidelines! I didn't dare hope for such a marvel in our post-modern, theologically barren society. Still, I wondered if He could possibly be giving me a hint of things to come. Little did I realize, I was only hours away from just such a stunner in my own 21st century life.

When I recently confided my seemingly insurmountable problem to a concerned party, she asked how I was holding up. At the time, my heart was thumping and stress hormones raced around my body like flies at a picnic. While I couldn't honestly deny feeling anxious, I heard myself say, "I have everything I need." And suddenly I knew that was true. It was then that I realized what the prophet Habakkuk meant when he recorded these words: "Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior." (vv. 17-18).

Rejoicing, I'm finding out, is a state of mind that comes with the doing, not the other way around.

For more like this, check out: Morsels for Meditation...: Sleep on It

Morsels for Meditation...: Deliverance Part 2, AKA, Jurassic Park Revisited

Morsels for Meditation...: God Rather Than Men

Tools for the Task at Hand

Been thinking about King David lately. He had no business defeating Goliath, especially with only a slingshot and a few rocks from a stream. Likewise, Queen Esther had no reason to expect she wouldn't receive a death sentence for speaking out of turn to her husband, the king, let alone confronting him at a banquet.

While I'm at it, I'm pondering the colonists' gutsy stand during the American Revolution, which they didn't have a prayer (well, clearly, they had a prayer) of winning. And let's not forget the Abolitionists who harbored slaves during the Civil War era, and brave souls like Corrie ten Boom and Irena Sendler, who put their lives on the line to rescue Jews during WWII.

I've often wondered how I'd cope with such life and death choices. Would I put myself in harm's way for the greater good, or wimp out like I've done so many times before?

The conclusion I've come to is, I'll never know. I wasn't asked to slay a Philistine giant or rescue God's chosen people from annihilation. I haven't been called upon to shepherd runaway slaves through the Underground Railroad. But God has seen fit lately to send certain challenges my way. I feel small and shaky, as I suspect the aforementioned activists did when they considered their options. I don't have a pebble shooter or a hidden compartment in my house, but I do have a voice and a pen. More than that, I have God Almighty walking beside me and living within me.

I have everything I need for the task at hand.

Through

Last Friday I had the opportunity to attend our school's Save a Heart event. This is a fundraiser to support heart disease research, and it's very popular with the kids. They get to have a whole afternoon off after a long week of standardized testing, and participate in a plethora of relay games requiring teamwork and not a little strategizing. They love it.

I found several of the activities intriguing. Stonehenge, for example, requires each student to select a tall wooden block and build a sort of pi-shaped (yes, I do mean pi, as in the Greek letter) sculpture, one piece at a time, based on their recollection of a model they viewed briefly before beginning the exercise. One misplaced block can topple the whole structure, so they have to correct each other's mistakes before placing their piece. If the unthinkable happens and it gets knocked down, they have to begin the process from scratch, thus putting them in last place.

As you can imagine, the larger the sculpture becomes, the greater the pressure on the individual block layer not to upset the proverbial apple cart. I watched in fascination at the kids' concentration as they worked out problems and tried not to be the "fall guy." I imagined how stressful it must be for them to have all their peers and teachers watching their progress, and to realize that their teammates were relying on them for the win. I thought of how tempting it would be to turn tail and run rather than stick it out; how disheartening it was to be the reason for the team's failure. And yet, these little sixth graders plugged away till the last block was laid, for better or for worse, and not one dissolved into tears when things didn't go as planned.

Another activity that caught my attention was Thread the Needle. This title is deceptively simple. The goal here is to build a free-standing hula hoop sculpture as a team, after which each student must pass through without tumbling it. Success is iffy at best, but the beauty of the process is that, when one student has the misfortune of ruining the structure, the others immediately rally to his aid and quickly rebuild, enabling their teammate to take another stab at the prize. I was agog at the cooperation and perseverance shown by these pre-teens.

River Raft Relay is another team challenge. Here there are two "rafts," AKA gym mats, laid out next to each other. The object is for half a dozen or so kids to tiptoe one at a time off one and onto the other, after which the last "passenger" passes the rear raft to his teammates till it becomes the one in front. They have to repeat this process until the whole team makes it across the gym, gingerly squeezing too many 12-year-olds onto a mat the size of a pavement slab. The game requires stealth and patience, two things we don't normally equate with pre-adolescents.

Happy Gilmore is perhaps the most remarkable, as it more or less combines all the aforementioned skills into one activity. Each student receives a half piece of PVC pipe, onto which a golf ball is set. The aim is for one student to pass the ball to the next, via the pipe, without letting it drop. The trick is to make the swap quickly but cautiously, so the sender can run back and hand off the pipe to his waiting teammate, who then relieves the current holder of the golf ball. Too fast leads to disaster; the ball drops and they have to start over. Too slow leaves the holder hanging out to dry, as he struggles to balance the tipping ball with no one to pass off to. It is a game of precision and skill, camraderie and self-control. It's also an exercise in tenacity, as too often the swaying ball wins out over the tottering sixth grader, and the team is forced to start all over again.


What all these relay games have in common is, there are no shortcuts. The players' only hope of victory is to follow directions to the letter, staying the course despite frustration and setbacks. Defeat is only one misstep away.

Sometimes the only way to go is through.

Evolving Clay

Been thinking about clay. My neighbor Anita loves the stuff. She can't seem to get enough of mushing her hands around in the sticky goop that miraculously ends up as colorful works of art. She scoops and kneads and molds and even recycles big, muddy blobs into rich pottery. I can never believe my eyes when I watch her fashion those gummy hunks into beautiful tableware that add grace and elegance to any home.

Then I look at myself and the people I love, and I notice something remarkable. We're all clumps of clay at some point along the Potter's continuum. Some of us appear mighty unfinished, but we're coming right along. We may not be ready to be served up at a state dinner, but we're pretty functional in our own right. Others among us look the part, but upon closer inspection, are found to have flaws and weaknesses that limit our usefulness as serving vessels. Despite our varied appearances, we all have one thing in common: we're fragile. In fact, when you get right down to it, we're nothing but dust that's been shored up by a strong hand  and steady fingers. As long as we keep our connection to that able Potter, He can and will mend any cracks that come along.

Hadn't we best be patient with our fellow vessels - and ourselves - as we limp along the journey toward wholeness?


Check out Fingerprints of God by Steven Curtis Chapman

Overcoming Inertia, AKA, Getting Off my Butt

Avoidance. I do it well. My kids have been suggesting lately that I get out and do more things, to which I respond that I like being home with them, and am more than ready to just crash on Friday nights after working all week.

So it was with a giant pry bar that I disengaged myself from the couch to go to my church's retreat this past weekend. I delayed packing. I gave myself an escape clause. And I fretted.

"I don't know many people. What's it going to be like spending a whole weekend with them?"

 I feel like I have new sisters now.

"Will the bunks be comfortable?"

 I won the toss for the only bed in the room.

"Will the speaker have anything valuable to say?"

Donna Ebert's talks on the spiritual disciplines of prayer, Scripture-reading, solitude and Sabbath rest were uplifting and challenging.

"And what about this yoga piece they're offering? I like the exercises, but how will I handle it if things become New-Agey?"

They didn't; Mindy Marcozzi-Drake of Agape Health and Yoga did an awesome job of keeping it God-centered.

"Will I keep my roommates awake by snoring?"

I stopped short of tossing earplugs into my luggage to spare my bunk mates, but not before scavenging through the linen closet for a pair.

All my fears were unfounded. I had a Spirit-filling, heart-expanding, body-nurturing, rockin' good time.

Guess it's good to get off the couch now and then...