Most of us don’t think of sacrifice as a place of safety. Sacrifice is where we feel fragile and vulnerable (aka, the opposite of safe). I don’t know about you, but I seem to have an obsession with safety in my life. I pick jobs that make me feel safe, I pick people who make me feel safe, I spend money in ways that make me feel safe…
Oh, my goodness, what joy we get when our two-year-old grandson laughs. It sounds like music to our ears. As he ages, he notices so much more about his little world that makes him laugh – including our mistakes.
Because I directed a First Grade Vacation Bible School class and because I babysat my grandkids in the summer, my two-year old grandson was able to go to Preschool VBS. Even though I called it Bible School. He called it “Bible Church.”
I got caught up in my grandsons’ excitement on a recent trip to the zoo. The oldest one loves the Reptile House so, of course, he made certain we headed there first. He marveled over every snake, lizard, turtle, and creepy crawly thing.
Our detached garage has a step up from the garage floor and a step down into the patio. I get a kick out of our two-year old grandson when he tries to maneuver those steps. As he attempts to do them, he looks up at me and says, “BIG step, Tida.”
Our two-year old grandson started throwing the typical tantrums for kids his age. If he gets irritated with a toy, he throws it. If he gets really upset, he hits his head on the wall or floor or whatever else he can find.
The other day I was taking off my jewelry, and I must have pulled too hard on my ring. It flew off the end of my finger when I pulled it over my knuckle. I heard it hit the carpet. I immediately got on my hands and knees to look for my ring. I must have looked for 20 minutes before I decided to stop and try again later. After looking later, I still could not find my ring. I knew it was there, and I also knew that I would find it with continued searching.
So I have a teenage daughter. I am learning new things by the minute. She is filling my life with laughter and terror all at the same time! It's a roller coaster, and I love it. This week I'm going to catch you up to speed with communication in the style of a teenager.
My daughter cracks me up with all the things she says. One of those phrases is, wait . . . what? This is what she says every time she misses something or wants something repeated.
It is officially spring. The weather and the calendar agree. I am starting to see birds making nests, flowers budding out, and green grass peeking through. Spring marks the beginning of baseball season. One of my favorite things to do is watch my two kids play ball. Of course I’m a fan of these two!
I watched my husband and our daughter paddle out into the surf in a kayak. They moved through the water to look at the array of fish under them. At times they stopped paddling, but they did not stop moving. Sometimes they drifted further away from where they wanted to go. It required intentional effort to move in the right direction. To go where they wanted to go, they had to pursue it. Just drifting was not going to be enough.
That our culture—like Esau—is one of instant gratification, is hardly news. The soaring statistics in both credit card debt and divorce have been proof of this fact for many years. The following chart is a stunning summary of what has happened to American/Western culture in the last century and a half:
Modernism: the late 19th/early 20th century. Personal experience questions truth.
Post-modernism: mid-late 20th century. Personal experience defines/chooses truth.
Pseudo-modernism: 1990’s—today. Personal experience creates truth.
If you were looking for material for a daytime television drama, you could hardly do better than the story of Jacob and Esau, grandsons of Abraham, the father of faith. It has sibling rivalry, parental partiality and on-going intrigue, all set against a backdrop of wealth and power within the palace walls (if the walls were made of animal skins…).
Recently, a friend and I met for a catch-up lunch. As so often happens, the conversation drifted to events in the lives of our children and grand-children. Soon we were enveloped in the low-frequency melodrama that is modern family life, along with the seeming inability, in many areas, to do much about any of it.
When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him? (Psalm 8:3,4)
Several years ago now, our little neighborhood Bible study piled in our cars and drove an hour to a nearby city. Our destination was a day-long conference led by a woman who for over forty years had been a world-impacting teacher and author of Bible studies.
Why be a psalmist? Are you struggling with dark thoughts and troublesome feelings? I strove this way for over forty years. I prayed but wasn’t honest with God about my feelings.
Fear of failure.
Fear of people.
Fear of being different.
Fear of the unknown.
Fear of being known.
Fear of death.
Fear of the future.
Walking the paved dam between two small lakes, I noticed a family of ducks paddling toward shore. Noticeably, the mother duck led the family while the father duck anchored the end of the line. Several ducklings swam effortlessly between the two.
During a small gathering of women in a weekly Bible study group, I asked a question for each to answer.
“What allows you to share your faith story with others, whether Jesus-followers or not?”
“Grace. God’s grace.” Everyone answered the same around the table.
