Annoying Body Parts

Yup, you read that right. A silly title, I'll admit, but it gets the point across.

What I'm pondering here is those body parts that, for one reason or another, trouble us. I, for example, have robust thighs (that's a nice way of saying they shake like jello when not confined by a pair of jeans). Also, my eyebrows are too thin, non-existent almost, from years of over-plucking; trying to get them to grow in at this point would require patience and probably Rogaine. These are but a few of the less-than-perfect aspects of my earthly temple (I'm not telling you the rest).

In addition, there is the problem of, well, problem parts. These are the ones that simply don't work as expected. Deviated septum, obstructed bowels, undescended testicles (I hear tell) - these types of conditions upset the body's proper functioning, causing pain and discomfort, not to mention embarrassment!

At times we have to take matters in hand, even seek expert help, when the behavior of one part begins to adversely affect the rest of the body. A broken or injured right foot, for example, could cause us to rely more heavily on the left to compensate. Before long, we notice a new pain as a result of overtaxing the uninjured limb. Wisdom and guidance from skilled practitioners are necessary to protect us from such consequences.

The Body of Christ has annoying parts too. We've all seen them: they may present as grumblers (like gassy stomachs), whiners (like overactive tear glands), manipulators (like itchy fingers). Some are unkempt and even offend the senses. Others fail to behave as propriety dictates due to ignorance or disability. Sometimes we choose to avoid them because they don't fit the mold we envision for our church body.

While a valid argument could be made that not everyone who sits in the pew is an actual believer (which would provide a convenient loophole to justify ignoring distasteful churchgoers), I'm not sure yours truly is qualified to make that judgment. Unless a person is spouting outright heresy or behaving criminally, it's a tall order to try to read the fine print inside another person's heart (believe me, I've tried). That said, it is important not to let needier parts of the body take unfair advantage of the brethren. I don't think we're called upon to wear a "Kick Me" sign or subject ourselves to exploitation. There's a fine line, it seems to me, between befriending and allowing oneself to be used.

I once read an article by a woman who had decided to view her unsightly thighs (now you know why this piece spoke to me) in the same way she would view maiden aunts who were a bit unfashionable. She said henceforth she would treat them with affection and care, and even show them off in public, rather than continue hiding them away out of embarrassment. This concept blends well with Paul's description of how we are to behave towards less attractive members of the church body:

"Those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. 
And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, 
while our presentable parts need no special treatment. 
But God has put the body together, 
giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it."
1 Corinthians 12:22-24

One last thought: if I ever make the time, I hope to write a book or short story about a diverse group of Christians caught in a life and death situation (TBD). The background of the piece would emphasize the differences in personalities and opinions that create ripples in their corporate relationship. Ultimately they would realize that only through interdependence on each other's respective gifts and abilities could they hope to escape their dire situation. This idea has arisen from years of observing and interacting with believers whose temperaments frankly irritated me. I'm ashamed to admit that I've struggled with being somewhat intolerant of my brothers and sisters whose makeup tends towards coolness or lack of emotion (being wired with intense feelings myself). I labeled their temperaments underwhelmed at best and uncaring at worst. It took me years to realize that these believers are made in the image of God just as I am, but their particular style of ministry reflects His analytical and discernment skills, while mine more closely resembles His emotive side. Both sets of qualities are essential for a healthy church. For example, those who find it awkward to visit the sick may be better suited to objectively sort out a sticky situation of church discipline. Bottom line: neither can thrive without the other.

Outward Ripples

I'm sure this isn't original (in fact I know it isn't), but thought I'd pass it on anyway. I'm always trying to keep up with prayer requests and remember everyone and everything on my mental prayer list. It's a losing battle.

Today I heard someone with wisdom say, if you're inclined to pray and don't know how to begin, why not just say something like, "Lord, You know what's in my heart. Please accept it."

That "recipe" works in a pinch, but I think the following idea covers more territory: pray first for your own family and friends (and self, of course); then expand outward to include your church family and leadership (past, present and future), and those of your friends; then go national, asking God to handle everything on the domestic front and those who run the show in the government; finally, ask Him to embrace the international community, including persecuted believers and anyone in harm's way.

I did this today and it made so much sense and took so little time. The Lord knows our minds have limitations (some of us more than others!), and He's already working on the items we forget or that have gotten lost in the cobwebs of our tired brains. Moreover, He's awake 24/7. I once heard a weary traveler comment, "Knowing He's awake allows me to go to sleep; at least Somebody's doing something!"

He really is an awesome God.

Complete the Work!

"And in this I give advice: It is to your advantage not only to be doing what you began and were desiring to do a year ago; but now you also must complete the doing of it; that as there was a readiness to desire it, so there also may be a completion out of what you have. For if there is first a willing mind, it is accepted according to what one has, and not according to what he does not have." 

2 Corinthians 8:10-12

I came across this passage recently as I was preparing for an upcoming writers' conference. Paul's words spoke to me when I first read them, and they're speaking to me now. I've made a lot of progress in getting ready for the event and could even say I'm at a stopping point, if I want to be. However, since I still have over a week, why not use the time to the maximum so as to have the widest net to cast, so to speak? 

There was a time in my life when I was governed by procrastination and fear. Those time-wasting devils haven't left my life completely (as evidenced by the video-fest I allowed myself last night when I could've been doing x number of more important things), but by the grace of God, they are far less prominent than they once were. I've learned that tomorrow is a nebulous, unpromised concept that may or may not a) happen or b) be available for things I ought to have done today. So now I to try to hit the ground running as soon as the final bell rings for school "vacations" and the like. I put that word in quotes because for years my definition of vacation was simply the absence of schedule and structure - in short, an excuse to fritter away time and God-given talent. 

There is certainly a need to turn off one's mind and leave off responsibilities occasionally. My problem was (and might be again, unless I take care), every bit of down time became the occasion. I'm reminded of a funny story my father once told. Upon voicing concern to his only living brother about his continuing to smoke despite serious health concerns, my uncle replied that he only smoked occasionally. Dad retorted that he smoked every time they were together, to which Uncle Irv quipped, "That's the occasion!"

My prayer continues to be that God would show me the schedule and priorities for each day, regardless of whether every moment is predetermined by outside forces, or if long stretches of time present themselves. I desire to not only begin projects He guides me to, but also to work diligently and steadfastly unto completion.

For more like this, check out: Reflections by Thea: To Whom Shall We Go?

Reflections by Thea: Awake!

Falling in Love with the Salesman

Readers: I'm adding an addendum to this piece, which was first posted July 7, 2014: It occurs to me that, in addition to refraining from grumbling among ourselves about unworthy "salesmen," it is wise and right to steep their families in prayer. The former activity may tear down already suffering innocents who are having enough trouble as it is.

"I can't afford to fall in love with the salesman."

That's what my former husband used to say when we were negotiating over cars. I must admit, we had a pretty good system going. He knew all the facts and Blue Book values of the vehicles we were interested in; I knew our bottom line. At times we would resort to good cop, bad cop, and that helped as well. We didn't always wind up with a car, but we didn't get shaken down, either.

Yesterday I happened upon an old news item about some believers who had inspired and influenced me in my teen years. There were allegations on both sides of falling from grace, and questions as to whether grace had ever been part of the picture to begin with. This one was taking that one to court, or thinking about it. Suggestions of infidelity were rampant. The more I read, the more sickened and depressed I became. I felt like a tube of toothpaste must feel when being squeezed at both ends; nowhere to go, and muck spilling out every which way. 

I was mercifully interrupted from my self-appointed "research" (if I had been craning my neck at the scene of an accident, it would've been called gaper delay; was this maybe "gapeism" of a different sort?). Realizing my interest was becoming unhealthy, I chose to lay the matter aside and let God sort it out.

I don't know what I'd do if I were being slandered. Would I remain silent and let the allegations go unchallenged so as not to stir the pot, or feel compelled to pronounce my guiltlessness to whomever would listen? It's an interesting question. Sometimes facts can be produced to corroborate one's story, and other times it's just our word against someone else's. There was some of both in this scandal. As so often happens in such situations, though, after a while the water became so murky there was no telling who had slung what mud - but sure enough, everyone looked pretty filthy.

The whole rancid affair brought me back to that dictum Mike coined about not falling in love with the salesman. What he meant, of course, was that he was interested in the product and not a sly sales pitch. It struck me that the reason I was so upset by this mess was because I had previously put so much stock in these believers and the faith they claimed to espouse (which is not to pronounce judgment on the players in this case because, as I said, I'm not going to delve any further into this quicksand of mistruths and misperceptions). If I've learned anything from 40 plus years as a Christian, it ought to be that Christ alone is infallible. His children are just that - children. Despite the fact that we're called to seek maturity in the Christian walk, we all know children screw up, lie, behave selfishly, and err in judgment. The bottom line, though, is no matter how breathtakingly a representative may package the gospel, the message alone, not the presenter, is entitled to our confidence.

Seems like Mike nailed that a long time ago. 

Furthermore, even if one of "God's own" opts to defect, I DON'T HAVE TO. Principles very often turn out to be bigger and purer than the bearer of them.

Unless, of course, the bearer happens to prove Himself incontrovertible by doing something like, oh, say, rising from the dead.

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

Paradox

I'm a speck in the face of eternity, and at the same time, I hold infinite value.

I'm having loads of trouble preparing for a writers' conference at the end of this month. This is the first such venue I've joined, and it has me biting my nails. 

Like most things in my life, I'm trying to give it my best. In school, I always went for the A. At work, I strive for exemplary evaluations. In this case, I'm literally driving myself crazy trying to create the perfect book proposal. My anxiety is compounded by the fact that there are scads of information on the conference website as to how to "do it right" and the web at large is crawling with paths to literary success. 

Aaaaahhhhh!!!!!!

I sip from my Louisa May Alcott mug (purchased for me by my son and sister at the author's home in Concord, Massachusetts) to give me inspiration. She was the first writer whose work spoke to me, and I've read countless biographies detailing her impoverished roots and slow rise to fame. I don't think I'm looking for fame, I tell myself, but I do have an important message and an able pen, both gifts from God, and both needing an audience. I compare my "resume" with the conference coordinator's sample, and laugh at the vastness of difference between our accomplishments. She's written six books and contributed to over 100 periodicals; I've had exactly three articles published, and that's counting one for an Al Anon newsletter. Not exactly a publisher's dream.

So I turn my attention to Anne Frank and Corrie ten Boom, both unlikely authors whose works were born out of bitter experience. The former didn't live to see her diary in print, and surely never imagined millions would read and relate to her adolescent scribblings. She did, however, have the temerity to assert that she wanted to go on living even after her death. The latter appealed to a postwar generation looking for redemptive value in an arguably Godless period of human history. Can my story find its market, as theirs did, despite the madness of modern day publishing?

I cringe at the word "marketing." It sounds like just what it is: commercialism. Publishing is an industry, and industries live or die based on sales. Like J.D. Salinger and Harper Lee (dare I place myself in such distinguished company?), I prefer a low profile, but privacy doesn't bring in revenue. So I reluctantly promise to shamelessly promote my books, even to the extent of turning cartwheels in Times Square. Will my other responsibilities allow me to keep such a commitment, assuming I muster the nerve to follow through?

Which brings me to my original point. This is not about me, any more than it was about Frank or ten Boom. This is about a message, a dispatch. Neither of the books I'm peddling (there's that concept again) came out of my head; I'm just not that clever. Both arrived unbidden, in the midst of my daily grind, and more or less constipated my brain till they were - ahem - released. Am I brazen enough to suppose the God of the universe desires to use my voice to convey one or two of His thoughts? 

Why not? He used Moses' staff and Peter's boat . Why not my keyboard? I may be made of dust, but the One who made me is formed from the stuff of eternity. If, as the Bible attests, the Holy Spirit resides in this flawed body of mine, doesn't that impart to said body a derived pricelessness?

So, like I said, I may be a speck, but this speck has an essential purpose. What foolishness to allow comparisons and obstacles to overshadow the work the Almighty has called me to do.

I think He can handle a little thing like a writers' conference.

Exhausted, Yet Wide Awake

That's what my sisters and I were this morning. The reason for this paradoxical condition? Pastor Allen Miller. More specifically, Roz, Jane and I were privileged to sit under this man's teaching at Community Church of Oak Orchard in Millsboro, Delaware this morning, after a late night communing with sons, nephews and girlfriends. Our behavior may have been somewhat irresponsible, given the fact that we all realize Saturday night leads into Sunday morning, and that late night revelry often precludes early rising. Perhaps, though, we can beg a reprieve based on the fact that this was a unique situation of family reunion which will not likely recur anytime soon. Be that as it may, we all awoke sleepy and hankering for more shuteye. 

Roz cast aside her fatigue to run an errand, and Jane and I had just finished bemoaning the fact that church was probably not going to happen today. Just then, Roz called from the road offering to pick us up for worship. Since we were both dressed (if not rested), we eagerly agreed. Within 15 minutes we were sitting in the pew having our spirits nourished by a man whose walk with God is both practical and palpable. 

First, Pastor Miller led his flock in memorizing a Bible verse which was projected up on the screen behind him. Simultaneously, he challenged brave retainers of last week's memory verse to recite it for the congregation. He then proceeded to pass around a clipboard on which members and visitors alike could record prayer requests. During the course of his sermon, several little voices were heard from, to which this man of God lovingly responded in the tradition of Matthew 19:14. He interrupted his preaching just long enough to encourage two struggling parents to walk their restless child around if need be, rather than trying to make her sit still, while underscoring that their little girl was "welcome" because the church, like its master, loves children. 

In his message, Pastor Miller drew from Larry Wilson's article entitled Why Does the Orthodox Presbyterian Church Baptize Infants?, as well as his own analysis of the issue, to justify his sprinkling of a tiny tot in the morning service. His delivery was conversational rather than didactic, which kept my sisters and I nodding in understanding rather than nodding off. The only time any of our collective eyes closed was to blink, then quickly return to his heartfelt teaching.

We gave ourselves a gift by bringing our tired bodies into the house of the Lord today. He gave us a gift by setting His man in the pulpit, and allowing him to revive our drowsy spirits.

Taking Advantage and Taking for Granted ...

... are annoyances that many of us are familiar with. I would venture that most Christians have experienced the unpleasantness of being used on the one hand, or taken for granted on the other.

The question isn't when will it happen, but how will we as God's people respond?

Well, here's what I'm doing today. I may choose to languish in self-pity and righteous indignation again tomorrow, but for today, I took one last fleeting look at my bankroll of unforgiveness (Lot's wife would have cautioned against that backward glance), then sent it to the shredder.

A dear friend visited last night and bemoaned the fact that he sees himself taking a position of ingratitude with his Savior. He mentioned a couple of big blessings to which, he confessed, he realized he was yawning and saying, "Ho hum." He seemed genuinely concerned about his lack of appreciation for some really major workings of God in his life. This helped put me on the other side of the fence I've been straddling. The one where I know I'm as ungrateful a wretch as ever lived (proven by the fact that I received a token of love just last week, tossed it in my locker at work, and forgot to acknowledge it till I opened the locker two days later), but expect flowers and candy when I do the slightest bit of kindness for someone else.

Perhaps the greatest resentments I've been lugging around have centered on other believers who don't do what I expect them to (or what I see as their Christian duty). The Lord showed me recently that what I can learn from my brothers and sisters in Christ is much greater than the ways in which they fail me. In other words, as a 12 step program with which I am gratefully affiliated puts it, "Principles above personalities."

What a concept.

Mended Fences

I'm so happy. Today I apologized to a dear friend for using harsh words when soft ones would have sufficed (Proverbs 15:1). Like the angel she is, she accepted my apology with grace and love.

But wait, the story gets even better. After I cleared the air with my friend, someone else asked my forgiveness for past wrongs.

I guess what goes around really does come around.

"Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." Luke 6:38

To Whom Shall We Go?

I've been having a tough time lately. One of those tooth-pulling, gotta force myself to do what I know is good for me type deals. I've been able to trace the root of the problem, which is good, because that's half the battle. Now I've got to just stay the course, make good small decisions on a daily basis, which past experience suggests will lead to good large decisions if I remain focused on my faith walk.

The discomfort began when I learned of upsetting happenings in the lives of several other Christians. I'm not just talking prayer being needed for a second cousin who's having a tooth extracted. The events related to me involved major backsliding and outright denial of the faith on the part of lifelong believers. Because the news came as a clump, it was hard to digest, just as it's galling to swallow a whole plate of a distasteful vegetable. It's much easier to choke down a nasty food if we limit the portion size and mix it with something more palatable; all at once is asking for trouble. But when what's served up is not to our liking and in abundance, we have to find some way to stomach it. 

True to form, I chose to resort to my old faithfuls: entertainment and food. They've never let me down (except for the fact that they mess with my physical, mental, emotional and - oh, yeah - spiritual health). They've been rock solid and trustworthy for me. I always know when I spend quality time with M&M's that I'm gonna feel good for a short while (never mind that I'll have to shoehorn myself into my clothes for the next week). It's a sure bet the perils of Star Trek Voyager's crew will numb my mind for a few hours (but that won't help me deal with a crisis that explodes without warning in my own life).

The good news is, these periods of oblivion are getting shorter. I'm learning to turn to the One from whom I'm turning, so these "vacations" from God are of briefer duration. I realized quickly that my earthly gods were only sinking me further faster, so I began rallying sooner. I felt a little better yesterday when I put in some decent time with the Almighty, and today I feel better still. Lord knows it's not all about feelings, but for us sense-bound creatures, in many ways it is. We are what we are, which is dust,  and our perceptions shape so much of how that dust operates.


Do I hear someone whispering that I'm hiding my head in the sand? Not getting any real answers? Just sticking it out with a God who isn't strong enough to keep His own followers from defecting? It's a fair question and deserves a thoughtful answer. I'm not bowing down to a caricature or cartoon character with the substance of onion skin.The God I serve has been tried and found worthy by the likes of Mother Teresa, Corrie ten Boom, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Luther King. I am proud and at the same time humbled to sit in their company, while engaging daily in the tasks my King sets before me. 

I can't be responsible for what others who wear His Name choose to do. The best I can offer - and all He asks for - is obedience, to the best of my flawed ability. 

For more like this, check out: Reflections by Thea: Awake!

Reflections by Thea: Complete the Work!

He is Risen, Indeed!

Our pastor, Jerry Iamurri, of Bethany Evangelical Presbyterian Church, knocked one out of the park again today. He described how Psalm 22, particularly the following verses (14-17), vividly describes the process of crucifixion, hundreds of years before this form of execution was being practiced:

I am poured out like water,
And all My bones are out of joint;
My heart is like wax;
It has melted within Me.
 My strength is dried up like a potsherd,
And My tongue clings to My jaws;
You have brought Me to the dust of death.

 For dogs have surrounded Me;
The congregation of the wicked has enclosed Me.
They pierced My hands and My feet;
 I can count all My bones.

How could the psalmist paint such a vivid picture of this horrible form of torture, which didn't even exist yet, if he weren't being guided by a divine hand?

Our pastor went on to say that the huge rock that sealed Jesus' tomb was rolled away, not so that Christ could emerge, but so that His followers could enter!There would have been no need for Him to have an "exit plan," as Scripture is clear that He could walk through walls and appear and reappear in His resurrected physical body:

"Then, the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and said to them, “Peace be with you.” (John 20:19)

Note how the resurrected Savior just bypassed the closed doors to make His unconventional entrance! And in the following passage, note how He appears out of thin air and departs the same way:

"Now behold, two of them were traveling that same day to a village called Emmaus, which was seven miles from Jerusalem. And they talked together of all these things which had happened. So it was, while they conversed and reasoned, that Jesus Himself drew near and went with them. But their eyes were restrained, so that they did not know Him. And He said to them, 'What kind of conversation is this that you have with one another as you walk and are sad?' Then the one whose name was Cleopas answered and said to Him, 'Are You the only stranger in Jerusalem, and have You not known the things which happened there in these days? And He said to them, 'What things?'

"So they said to Him, 'The things concerning Jesus of Nazareth, who was a Prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how the chief priests and our rulers delivered Him to be condemned to death, and crucified Him. But we were hoping that it was He who was going to redeem Israel. Indeed, besides all this, today is the third day since these things happened. Yes, and certain women of our company, who arrived at the tomb early, astonished us. When they did not find His body, they came saying that they had also seen a vision of angels who said He was alive. And certain of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but Him they did not see.'  Then He said to them, 'O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken! Ought not the Christ to have suffered these things and to enter into His glory?' And beginning at Moses and all the Prophets, He expounded to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself.

"Then they drew near to the village where they were going, and He indicated that He would have gone farther. But they constrained Him, saying, 'Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.' And He went in to stay with them.

"Now it came to pass, as He sat at the table with them, that He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they knew Him; and He vanished from their sight." (Luke 24:13-31)

Pastor Jerry also made the point that we don't have to worry about accomplishing all the goals on our "bucket lists" because what awaits us in heaven is far superior to anything we could experience on earth. Jerry stated that since Christ ate, walked and conversed with His disciples in His resurrected body, we can assume we will do those things in heaven as well. We can forego our bucket lists and even our rights because "no good thing will He withhold from those who walk uprightly" (Psalm 84:11). Furthermore, Jerry stated that He has "paid off all our bills" in the sense that He took the punishment we deserved; it really is finished! When God applies Christ's righteousness to our account, our sin is paid for completely - just like if a millionaire paid off our credit card debt, wiping our slate clean.

Check out "Do It Anyway" 

(attributed to Mother Teresa)