Nov 20, 2009 | Baby Photos, The Good Word
I was mulling over some verses in Proverbs 4 this morning, and while I’m not sure I have anything profound to say, I just thought I would share.
Wisdom is the principle thing; Therefore get wisdom. And in all your getting, get understanding. Exalt her, and she will promote you. She will bring you honor when you embrace her. (Proverbs 4: 7 & 8 )
I like to think about what it means to look for wisdom. When I think I’ve come across something wise, like, when someone says “I think I should probably do this, or not do that” I often find myself saying “Hmm, that’s good… that sounds wise.” And afterwards wondering… did that sound like a weird thing to say? I like wisdom! I like hearing it! But seriously, there is such a huge emphasis in Scripture on the significance of seeking and desiring wisdom. And it’s interesting to me because we have more information at our fingertips than any previous generation in history…but are we any wiser for it? If I listen to the news or watch TV, I’m pretty convinced that while we’re oozing with information, I’m not sure our wisdom bucket overfloweth as a result.
As I asked the Lord about getting wisdom this morning, I was reminded of two things:
- The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. This reminds me a lot of yesterday’s post…deciding to depart from evil because we fear the Lord, and we don’t think more highly of our own wisdom than we ought to. (If the Lord blesses me with more understanding of the fear of the Lord, which I intend to study up on, hopefully I can come back to you with a series of posts about it, because I don’t think one or two is going to cover it!) And,
- I was reminded of this interesting section of Psalm 119 that used to get me really excited when I was studying at university:
Oh, how I love your law!
It is my meditation all the day.
You, through You commandments, make me wiser than my enemies;
For they are ever with me.
I have more understanding than all my teachers,
For your testimonies are my meditation.
I understand more than the ancients,
Because I keep your precepts. (Psalm 119: 97 – 100)
(Me: Wiser than my teachers? Sign me up!) It seems like the way we are instructed to get wisdom is simple: meditate on God’s Word, His Law, the testimonies of His goodness recorded in Scripture, and then do what His word says. Put into practice the things that you are learning. If you’re learning to ride a bike, someone might take the time to sit down with you and explain the reason the bicycle works…how the pedals push the gears and the gears move the wheels and the steering wheel directs and the brakes slow you down… but eventually, you’re gonna have to put that knowledge into practice to fully understand riding a bike.
In the same way, the wisdom that comes from God is best understood when we study it, think about it, and then live it out. I think that’s why just a bit later in Proverbs 4 it says, “Ponder the path of your feet, And let all your ways be established.” (v. 26) If we move forward thoughtfully and purposefully, considering the teaching of the Lord and His wisdom, He promises to make our paths straight. I suppose there are some questions Google is never going to answer for us. The wisdom, and knowledge and understanding that will set us on the right path come from the Lord. If wisdom’s what you’re chasing after, what you’re pondering, and what you’re doing, expect the goodness of God to meet you.
I saw a great quote on this great blog yesterday that I think might be an encouraging closing:
You learn to speak by speaking,
to study by studying,
to run by running,
to work by working;
and just so, you learn to love by loving.
All those who think to learn in any other way deceive themselves.
– Saint Francis de Sales
If you are looking for wisdom today, I hope it finds you.
Nov 19, 2009 | Stories, The Good Word
Okay. So you guys might think I’ve totally lost it, but I’m going to share this story with you and do my best to explain anyway. Fire away with comments at will!
So last night, we had our mid-week weekend, where we enjoy dinner together and watch a movie and relax a little. I was working on dinner when we realised we didn’t have a movie, and Mark decided to run back out to get one. We were listening to a playlist of music on my iTunes that someone made for me ages and ages ago. A lot of the songs are fun, happy stuff and I was singing along and smiling at the Bear and he was happy. He was still in his highchair crunching crumbs while I was juggling chicken simmering on the stove, veggies roasting in the oven, couscous getting ready to soak. The Bear’s bedtime was approaching so I took him through to his room to get him into PJs and a fresh nappy.
Meanwhile, the next song on the playlist came on. It was a catchy little ditty that was really popular a few years ago, but it had some not so nice language in it, (I had been given the unedited version that wasn’t on the radio). It really wasn’t singing about very positive stuff. I felt like I should go skip the song, but, honestly, I was just kind of lazy, and also thought it was kind of catchy, and I just left it running. The evening went on and as we were enjoying our dinner another song came on, also just … dark. Honestly, I don’t know how else to explain it. It was from an album I used to listen to a lot ages ago, and the more I listened to the lyrics the more I realised how bad it was — it was clearly speaking about the crucifixion, but not in a positive light. Mark and I talked about googling the lyrics in order to figure out what the heck it was all about, but once again, I didn’t get up and change the music.
We enjoyed the rest of our evening (Mark rented Elf for me, which was a very special holiday blessing) and we had a little ice cream and headed for bed. This morning, however, I can only describe it as if the bed woke up on the wrong side of me. I was grouchy and struggling to be nice as we sorted ourselves out for the gym — I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. We came back from the gym and it just seemed like one thing after another. I discovered a hole in my new t-shirt…I accidentally dropped our camera (it’s fine, thank you Lord)…things weren’t going my way and I wasn’t handling it well at all.
Finally, I sat down to spend some time in the Word and prayer, and Proverbs 3 was where I started off. I arrived at verse 7 and could go no further:
Do not be wise in your own eyes; Fear the Lord and depart from evil.
This sort of stopped me in my tracks. What does being wise in your own eyes have to do with fearing the Lord and departing from evil? I thought about it for a while, and felt like the synapses in my brain were beginning to make some new connections.
What I felt like the Lord showed me was that we sometimes think we can handle evil. In our own wisdom, we don’t always think we need to depart from things that really aren’t beneficial to us. In my wisdom last night, I thought, “It’s not a big deal, I can listen to this without it really affecting me.” This might be where you think I’m starting to get crazy, but bear with me.
I am quite sure I sometimes think I have more wisdom than I do. And I don’t always understand the repercussions of my decisions. I know for sure that music that gives glory to God sends the enemy packing. I have been in conferences where there was so much praise happening — people surrounding an auditorium just worshiping and praising God — and the presence of the Lord was almost tangible. People’s lives were being changed. People were being set free from things that they’d struggled with for decades. All because of the glorious presence of God, being welcomed in — where the enemy cannot stand to be, and literally just cannot be. (Light and darkness metaphysically can’t inhabit the same space at the same time.)
So here’s the question. Is the adverse also true? Am I welcoming in the enemy, am I giving place to him, when I listen to music that is clearly not pleasing to God? I’m not speaking about Jack Johnson’s Banana Pancakes — I mean music that is definitely, clearly against the things of God. Am I telling the enemy to come on over and hang out at my place when I listen to music that gives glory to selfishness, adultery, unfaithfulness, and bad relationships? At this point you’re going to have to work pretty hard to convince me otherwise.
The reason I think the two statements are together is this: the Lord constantly warns us to depart from evil. Flee from temptation. Run, you ninnymuggins, run! And I think part of the reason is that we think we can handle sin sinlessly. But who are we kidding? We know there is a spiritual realm, we know our battle is not against flesh and blood — but we don’t know everything that’s going on around us. We don’t know what we’re inviting in. So today, if for no other reason than because the Lord says so, I’m going to be doing some spring cleaning in my iTunes collection. (It is actually springtime, heading toward summer in the southern hemisphere.)
This is the promise that follows:
It will be health to your flesh and strength to your bones.
I’d like to sign up for health in my flesh and strength in my bones! So instead of being “wise” or trying to carefully navigate life on the edge of faith, with one foot in the world for the sake of “relevance,” I’m going to fear the Lord, and depart from evil. Praise the Lord who is so much wiser than I am. Please Lord, direct my steps, teach me to fear You, and to walk in your ways!
Nov 18, 2009 | Stories, The Good Word
I have been reading through Exodus lately. I’m in the section where the initial instructions are given for the Tabernacle, where the Lord will dwell among the Israelites while they are in the wilderness. You’ll know if you’ve read it — the instructions are incredibly specific — this item is to be gold, this one bronze, this one silver. This thing should be this length, that one that length, there should be rings to hold gold bars in order to carry this and that. The amount of workmanship and craftsmanship required to make this happen — it’s really incredible.
As you get into the intricacies of the Tabernacle, even the types of fabric to be used for the priests clothing or the curtains, there are lessons one after another. It is amazing how significant badger skin can be! But this morning I was reminded of what I think is one of the biggest lessons of all: A Wonderful, Holy God desires to dwell among us. He desires to be a part of our lives. And He wants us to build a space where He can dwell. Fortunately, you don’t need to get out your hammer, your badger skins, or your sewing machine for this. Because Christ came into the world, we have boldness and confident access to enter into the presence of God, and to welcome Him into our lives — not by our own works, as if we had the skills or talents or intrinsic goodness to make it possible — but simply because we’ve been forgiven, and we are acceptable, thanks to the work of Christ on the cross.
I asked the question, I suppose of myself and the Lord: What does it look like to build a space for the Lord? And time was my thought before any other. One of the most significant spaces you can build for just about anyone is a space of time in your life. You can write a cheque, you can do some good deed, but there is nothing like giving people time. At 15 months old, I can already see that my son would rather have my time — me playing with him or reading to him — than new toys.
We can build a space of time for the Lord in our days, where we read His word and seek His face. We can build a space for the Lord in our words — seizing opportunities for Him to speak to others through our mouths. We can build space for Him in our families, when we take the time to teach our children His ways, and when we pray and worship Him together.
In the goodness of God, He saw it fit to give us life — and we have the awesome privilege of opening up our lives to Him, and allowing Him into every space and sphere: our words and deeds, our work and relationships, our minds and hearts…the list goes on and on. It is such a privilege to have the opportunity to take a fresh look at the Tabernacle that is your life, each day, and to open it up for the Lord to fill it will His presence. Take a moment to consider a new space He could fill — and then enjoy the privilege of inviting Him in and watch how He inhabits your life in a new way. Expect it to be glorious! Christ in you is the hope of glory!
Nov 13, 2009 | South Africa, Stories
For the past couple of days, we’ve had swallows visiting, and behaving a bit strangely. They were flying around, divebombing in different directions, continually coming up to our balcony, and occasionally flying directly into the clear glass doors. Ouch! Then one appeared, perched on the light up on the wall on our balcony, and then another…then another. And eventually five birds were snuggled together, perched atop this rounded outdoor light fixture, almost pushing each other off.
We got a few photos but mostly left them to it, although they were not bothered in the least when Mark took photos of them, and even touched them. It was strange! Here are the birds in question:
The next morning, we discovered two of the birds just kind of lying together on the floor of the balcony, and they seemed so strangely tired, we just left them there again, and wondered what was the matter. Mark thought perhaps since swallows are migratory birds, they’d just arrived in Gordon’s Bay (perhaps expecting it to be slightly warmer — it has been unusually and unseasonably cold) and they were very tired because the wind has been hectic. So it was fine for our balcony to serve as a birdie rest haven for a wee while.
Then, while I was doing some early prep work for a big tasty dinner last night (an early African Thanksgiving, I made sweet potato fluff!) I just saw something drop and heard this thud on the balcony — one of the birds was lying there just behind the grill. “Mark!!!” I announced, “One of the birds has fallen off!! I think you need to help it!”
I must here interject an important point. You might meet Mark one day, dear reader. Depending on what part of the world you’re from, especially if it’s outside the southern hemisphere, you might mistake him for an Australian. This is an egregious error. To the untrained ear, Australian and South African accents seem similar, but they are indeed different. Different accents, different countries, different continents, different rugby teams, and different ways of cooking meat over an open flame. We once met with a dear sweet pastor back in North Carolina who after a few minutes of conversation exclaimed, “Dude, you’re like the Croc Hunter incarnate!” My husband is many delightful and heroic things, but friends he is no Steve Irwin, Jr. And I am not Terry. And we don’t have any pictures of the Bear near crocodiles either. Mark is rather good with animals in most situations, but let the record show, he is not the Croc Hunter. Â Now on with the story. After a picture of the Non-Croc Hunter with the bird in question:
So, Mark went outside and picked up the poor bird, who did indeed seem very tired. He tried to help him onto a porch chair, but the bird seemed keen rather to stay in his hand. He held him and warmed him for a little while. We brought out a little burp cloth blankie for him to cuddle in, but he didn’t really want to stay in it. Eventually, Mark decided to place him in a box with the blankie inside, and let him rest for a while. Someone was coming in the afternoon to install our big wireless internet receiver thingy out on the balcony, and there would be some noisy drilling, so it would be better if dear Baby Bird came inside for a rest.
I got back to my sweet potato fluff and Baby Bird was peacefully on the counter in the box, never making a sound. I was occasionally freaked out as I walked past the box thinking…this bird could decide he feels better and explode outta that box at any minute! I found myself taking routes around the flat that avoided getting near the front of the box where the lid was slightly ajar. Eventually he started to stir a little, after the outdoor maintenance was finished, and Mark took him back outside to see if he wanted to get out and perhaps fly off. I was a little concerned about letting him out of the nest so soon. Motherly instincts.
Anyway, he perched on the edge of the box like so:
Mark helped him out of the box, and at one point he tried to fly away, but THUD! He hit the ledge just below the railing on the balcony, and we felt so so sorry for him. I thought perhaps he would need to rest a while longer. Mark picked him up again and held him for a while. I went back inside to continue Facebooking my Mom or something, and all of a sudden heard Mark shouting, “GO BIRDIE, GO BIRDIE, GO BIRDIE GO!!! OH NOOOO!!!!” I scurried back onto the balcony to discover that our bird decided to take another leap of faith, made it out halfway across the harbour, and then ran out of gas. We watched in shock and utter disappointment. After a big wet feathery raucous, he was just floating along in the water, struggling to get to shore. It was clear he wasn’t going to make it. I immediately remembered the net down by the pool for scooping up leaves and said, “Mark, you could go get the net at the pool and run and fish him out! Maybe he’ll still be okay!” Then we watched as a seagull took a couple of pecks at him and we shouted, “No, seagull! No!”
The plan was in action. Mark rushed down to the pool, grabbed the net, and ran around the harbour to where the bird was. I stayed on the balcony to keep an eye on the bird and direct Mark to where he’d floated when he made it to the other side. (The Bear napped through this entire adventure). Mark arrived to the rescue amazingly quickly. Only there was an issue. The net was not long enough to reach our feathered friend. I stood there and could see the disappointment on Mark’s face as he scrambled along the rocks and tried to figure out what to do. And since there was no other way to rescue him, let’s be honest, in my heart of hearts, I really hoped Mark would go for a swim for our bird.
And he did.
As you can see, the local cormorant and crane, and two geese looked on, but did nothing to help our birdie friend. Birds of a feather… It was at about this stage that I remembered we’d just five minutes before seen Harold, the local harbour seal, up to his shenanigans, no more than thirty or forty feet from where Mark went for a swim. We have heard that Harold can be rather aggressive because he is so used to humans, and always expects them to feed him. So I was snapping photos and praying, “Lord please don’t let the seal attack my husband! Lord please don’t let the seal attack my husband!”
Finally, Mark was back on shore with the bird in tow. I quickly found a towel and hurried down to meet him. He came around the corner, bird in one hand, pool net and flip flops in the other. And that was when he broke the news. Our bird didn’t make it. It was either the pecks of the seagull or the little birdie lungs full of water that did him in. At least we know it was quick and hopefully peaceful. The soggy hero returned:
It was a really sad moment. We were bummed for a bit of the afternoon that our birdie friend didn’t make it. But I think someday Mark will do something like this again, when the Bear is old enough to understand what’s going on, and he will be so proud of his Not-the-Croc-Hunter-but-still-great-with-animals Dad. I already am.
Here’s to a Hero of a Hubs!
xCC
Nov 7, 2009 | South Africa, Stories
After moving into our new place, we had a couple of minor issues that needed the attention of an electrician and a handyman. Fortunately, our letting agency sent over a nice gentleman who is both. He sorted out a broken light socket in the kitchen, and the next week was sent over again to work on the issue that the doors onto our balcony might be blown in at any moment. The southeaster, she was a blowin’.
We discovered in conversation that this gentleman is not just a handyman of note, he is also a Christian. On top of that lovely discovery, he shared about the way the Lord radically changed his life when he repented and came to faith, and his excellent story includes starting a church in a township nearby. Bonus! He was planning to visit the church in the township the following Sunday and we asked if we could come along. Or we may have been invited, I can’t remember.
At any rate.
Photo by Randy OHC @ flickr
We thought we might be able to organise a shoe distribution with the help of this church, perhaps in the not-too-distant future. And hey, we’re looking for a church to call home, why not explore all the possibilities? This was obviously the beginning of a bit of adventure for a small town gal from Washington, North Carolina.
I am not sure I can accurately describe my experience of briefly passing through the township to attend church there. It is like life is just unceasingly happening — you never know what you’re going to see next, and you might be surprised to find that the people who live there are just surprised as you. As Mr. Potato Head grumbled along through the dusty streets, we saw sights we expected: Mamas with their babies strapped to their backs with bath towels or blankets, people carrying heavy things on their heads, lots of children everywhere. We also saw the unexpected: seven or eight men had picked an entire shack up over their heads, and were moving it casually down a hill to whoknowswhere. Things were so crowded I wondered where they would find a place to set it down. I also wondered if this was an everyday occurrence, but when I saw other people watching and pointing with bewildered laughs and stares, I decided I was fortunate enough to witness something very special. People were dressed up for church and heading in the opposite direction so I wondered if we’d chosen the right church to visit! We kept following our handyman friend in the bakkie (truck) in front of us.
A few moments later, we found ourselves inside a small church building, cinder block, tin roof and plastic chairs. Most of the men sat on one side and women on the other, but we’d already been seated before we noticed. (Not that we would’ve moved.) The pastor was still sharing the Sunday School Teaching, about fasting, and in my ignorance for a moment I marveled at the encouragement that people who might not have a lot to eat should fast. We’d sat near the back where there were plenty of chairs, and we took up lots of space, four adults and the Bear. As the church filled up and filled up we gradually scooted together and were cozy and hot by the end of our time there.
The very enthusiastic worship was in a language I didn’t know. Most of the congregation are immigrants from Zimbabwe, so we’ve concluded it may have been Shona. (Unfortunately I didn’t have the words on a screen to try my best with this time!) These folks moved to South Africa in hopes of opportunities for a better life. I don’t know whether they feel like they’ve found what they’re looking for. They faced severe brutality recently during the xenophobia attacks that swept across SA. Our handyman friend provided refuge for dozens of people — they slept in his home and shed and garage during the crisis. Many of them now no longer stay in this township, since they left when things were dangerous, but they return for church week after week.
The enthusiasm the people showed for the things of God was inspiring. Sometimes people have different ways of doing things and it is hard for an outsider to look on without being critical. Pledges for the building fund were being shouted out, and people were clapping for those making their pledges. I found myself walking the tightrope of trying to stay above being critical during this bit…but I remembered some lessons from my international studies classes, and the conclusion I often came to, that it is really difficult for anyone who is not a part of a culture to accurately perceive it, because we are all wearing our own cultural lenses. And I suppose when churches back in the States have building fundraisers, those who give a lot often receive praise in one way or another.
The church had had an all-night prayer meeting the night before, and had gone home for an hour or two of sleep, to get something to eat, and then return for Sunday school. I wasn’t sure I could convince the Bear to behave long enough for us to stay through the service…and I admired the stamina of these folks, who didn’t look at all tired to me as they danced and sang and worshiped the Lord. I think I could learn a lot if I stuck around for a while.
Our handyman friend encouraged us to head out after we’d shared about our work with Samaritan’s Feet and Mark brought a word of encouragement to the church. I stood on stage beside him with the Bear and was embarrassed at how wiggly and wild he was being. If your kid’s used to a schedule… As we stood outside and said a few goodbyes before following our handyman friend out, one little girl came over for a hug. I picked her up and gave her a hug and a kiss, and my heart just pined with compassion that I am not sure how to channel.
As I reflect on the time I’ve spent with ‘the poor,’ in Zambia, in Mexico, and here in South Africa, I am constantly amazed at the joy and contentedness I see in so many faces. Obviously I am not speaking about those in abject poverty, or trying to ‘romanticise’ it — but those living in ways that ‘Westerners’ might consider ‘poor’ often have a remarkable joy. Perhaps it is because a lot of the ‘poor’ I’ve spent time with are Christians. It challenged me to remember something I heard recently: if you have more than 5 shirts in your closet, you are probably better off than 90% of the world’s population. (I can’t confirm this and am not sure I’m remembering it correctly!) But the point is — if you have clothes to wear, food to eat, and a place to live, you have a lot to be thankful for.
We drove out of the township and got some lunch at a nearby shopping mall, which kind of made my head spin. From poverty to wealth in 3 miles flat. There is so much more to say, that is difficult to put into words. Mother Teresa once said,
“In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love.â€
The opportunities to do small things with great love are where I am, and where you are. Even if it’s just for one person, I look forward to making a difference.
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