Born of God, then and now

               On this last day of 2013, I write what turns out to be the 33^rd post of the year.  No drumroll necessary, but perhaps a little cheer that I have continued to “crank out” a tidbits from the various thoughts and insights that have moved me and sustained me over this last year.  A recent tidbit has put together two familiar items in my “faith catalogue,” but as God often does, something new has been brought to my attention.

               About eight years ago, a line about possibilities kept coming to mind, one that didn’t seem like a familiar scripture.  Thanks to the marvels of Google, I traced its origin to a prayer with several admonitions, including, “May you never forget the infinite possibilities born of faith.”  Just weeks later, as I decluttered what was under various magnets on our refrigerator, I found the whole prayer printed out from an old email.  I do love how the Holy Spirit “brings to our remembrance” these little treasures—scriptures, prayers, song lyrics—that have nourished us along the way.

               Here’s where it gets interesting; well, I think it gets interesting.  On this Christmas Eve, for the first time in a long time, most of our Laughlin clan of eight went to church that night.  Our newest member (about 10 weeks old) was at our daughter’s house, safe and sound with her mother—as it should have been on a cold winter’s night.  Perhaps more than ever, this year I have appreciated God’s holy “orchestration,” bringing together so many parts and players for the birthing of baby Jesus in that manger so long ago.  Singing the carols, hearing the scriptures, taking communion and lighting our candles in the dimly lit sanctuary were wonderfully familiar—and we were together in one city on this night of remembrance.

               It was the next day or two before I “saw” a connection between one of the readings and the line about possibilities in my special prayer.  John’s first chapter is so often read, and one part had caught my attention previously:  “But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God . . . who were born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God” (John 1:12.13).  The point to me has been that this birth is God’s doing by God’s power touching us and moving us from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of light.  Amazing, wondrous and altogether accomplished by God.

               More clearly, I realized these “infinite possibilities” are also “born of God.”  As we seek God, as we try to know Him more and to live as His children led by His Holy Spirit, God offers us these golden nuggets, these opportunities to lay hold of the gifts of faith He longs to drop in our hearts so that we will believe, simply believe, that God is still the miracle-working God He presents Himself as in the scriptures and especially in the life and ministry of Jesus Christ.

               God extends to us, each and every day, this love that persists, that seeks us out and wants to pull us into His realm of thinking, His way of loving, His way of believing for what He alone can bring to pass.  Looking back on 2013, I am so very thankful for what this persistent love has accomplished in my life and the lives of others.  Looking forward to 2014, I hope for and expect even more of this love of God that demonstrates itself in such powerful and wonderful ways.    

"Elf," the musical and childlike faith

               “Elf,” the musical, wasn’t a show I had expected to see.  Due to the kindness of our neighbor who received free tickets in the box section, we even got to see it “in style” and enjoyed it.  Although the Christmas message of the birth of Jesus was never mentioned in the musical, its message to believe with childlike faith certainly can have a very powerful Christian application.

               Buddy, the elf, grew up in the North Pole but eventually realized he was a human and not like the other small elves.  Santa sends him off to New York City to find his real father who has a wife and young son.  The father is a driven businessman and doesn’t believe “in the spirit of Christmas.”  In fact, Santa had told Buddy that belief in the Christmas spirit was waning, and this was a real problem for Santa since he no longer uses reindeer to pull his sleigh on Christmas Eve.  Instead, the power now comes from people’s belief.

               During the show, Buddy remains childlike and sincere in his belief in Santa and the loving spirit of Christmas. Toward the end of the story, Santa and his sleigh fall to the ground in a park on Christmas Eve.  Buddy comes to the rescue, rallying people, including his father, to believe again, and Santa’s sleigh takes flight, allowing him to “do his job” and deliver the gifts to the children.

                I once bought a Christmas decoration three inches high and ten inches long, spelling out the word “believe” in wooden letters with glitter on them.  It’s in a prominent place in our family room to constantly remind me of the importance of believing God and having faith.  In Webster’s Dictionary, one of the definitions of believe is “to have a firm conviction as to the reality or goodness of something.”  In all of the gospels, Jesus often addresses the importance of believing in God and having faith in His miracle working power.

               One story describes how two blind men follow Jesus and cry out to Him, saying, “Son of David, have mercy on us!”  Jesus then asks them, “Do you believe that I am able to do this?”  After they reply, “Yes, Lord,” Jesus touches their eyes and says, “According to your faith let it be to you” (Mat. 9:27-29).  Regaining their sight is clearly linked to what they believe about Jesus and His power to heal.

               While studying John in a Sunday school class, I was struck by the importance of what Jesus says to Martha, Lazarus’s sister, when she questions Him after her brother Lazarus had died (John 11).  She had sent word to Jesus that her brother was sick, but He shows up late, so late that Lazarus had died and lies in a tomb.  Approaching Him, Martha says, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.  But even now, I know that whatever You ask of God, God will give you.”  Jesus goes on and says, “I am the resurrection and the life.  He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live . . . Do you believe this?”  She must have been troubled and perplexed about what had happened, but even so, she replies, “Yes, Lord, I believe that You are the Christ, the Son of God . . .”-- no matter what, and Lazarus rises from the dead.

               This kind of faith comes from God; it is a gift and of a stronger substance than anything we can “work up” on our own.  But it is ours for the seeking.  This season that for Christians points us back to the wonders of Christ’s miraculous conception and arrival in a manger, welcomed by angels, shepherds and wise men alike should rekindle the God kind of faith that can still “move mountains” even today.  Simple, childlike faith—just like Buddy’s.

Humbly and with thanksgiving

               Just last week, my husband and I traveled to Illinois to celebrate Thanksgiving in our daughter’s home with other family and friends.  In thinking back, we realized that this would be the sixth state in the last seven years that we have been with family somewhere for this occasion.  West is the only direction we have not traveled from our home here in St. Louis.

               This year, however, we were able to go to the annual Ferguson Partnership Thanksgiving service on Wednesday night before we left, something we have done many times over the years but not recently.  As we walked into Blessed Theresa of Calcutta Church, we heard wonderful singing as people from the various churches had become a special choir for the night.  Various clergy led us in reading the scriptures, praying and presenting a message on Luke 18, emphasizing the importance of praying and not “losing heart.”  After the service, many people stayed for the simple reception and the opportunity for fellowship that it provided.

Amid these last years of change, my husband and I found meaning and comfort in again being part of this observance of where our expressions of thanksgiving should ultimately be—to God.  As the scriptures say, “It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord and to sing praises unto thy name” (Ps. 92:1).  It is also a good thing to come together as Christians focusing on what joins us, our faith in Christ and our sense of its importance in the community where we live.

               I am reminded of a familiar verse from Micah, verse 8:  “What does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.”  When we come together with genuine thanksgiving and love for God and one another, surely that is part of how we walk so humbly and so simply with God.

Possibilities and baseball

               To me, Field of Dreams has always been a story about faith—and dead baseball players emerging from corn stalks to play on a field built by a farmer in Iowa.  Yes, I am the person who could not “buy into” the tale of a young boy being accidentally left behind and outsmarting robbers in Home Alone.  But, dead ball players in Iowa—no problem.

               My husband, our two children and I were among the very first people to come looking for that farm with the baseball field during the summer of 1989.  We had seen the movie and decided to take a baseball vacation.  Chicago was our first stop, and game day at Wriggly Field was a rather miserable windy and rainy day.  We then headed to Galena, Illinois, a very quaint little town where part of the movie had been filmed.  Traveling farther west, we passed through Dubuque, Iowa, and set out to find the “magical” farm.

               Dyersville, Iowa, had not anticipated fame coming its way that summer, but it was the town closest to the farm.  Stopping there, we got directions and found the place where Ray heard “the voice” saying, “If you build it, he will come.”  On a perfect summer day, we sat in the porch swing of the old, white farmhouse where Ray, his wife and daughter lived.  Using some equipment from a bag on the field, my husband and son played ball on the diamond.  Our daughter and I sat on the bleachers with a lady, her daughter and grandchildren who were going to see the movie that night in Dubuque. 

               We have watched the movie many times since that summer, most recently in the last few weeks.  Again, I was struck by the simplicity of the story and the beauty of that simple life so technologically free compared to today’s world.  Again, I was reminded of how much I love this story, and how much about the life of faith it represents to me.  Many scriptures, Old and New Testament alike, identify the need to hear God’s voice and listen to His counsel above all others, just as Ray heeded the messages he heard that others didn’t. 

               God’s directions are often contrary to the world’s way of thinking.  Paul writes of God’s wisdom seeming like foolishness to the world (1 Cor. 1:20-24).  Losing income by cutting down a cornfield to build a baseball diamond was foolish and illogical; that’s why local people and even family members ridiculed Ray.  But Ray pressed on with his wife’s support.  After the field’s completion, there was a period of waiting and resisting discouragement before the arrival of the first “dead” baseball player.  Spending all the family’s savings to build the field put Ray and his family on the brink of losing the farm.  But one supernatural event after another kept confirming to Ray that what he was doing had a purpose, and other people were drawn into that purpose.  In the end, the “magic” of the field and its players was to bless many, illustrated by the long line of cars driving into the farm in the movie’s last scene.  

               From all around the world, thousands have visited the movie site since the summer it played in theaters.  Lovers of baseball, people drawn to the simple values of a simpler time and place and a chance to go back and make something right from the past—the movie stirs many feelings, prompting people to make their pilgrimages to this place where “dreams come true.”  Or, where impossibilities can happen because someone “hears” God’s voice and believes.  Mother Theresa puts it this way:  “May we not forget the infinite possibilities born of faith.”

Sheaves,corn, loaves and fish

                Although the title reads more like a shopping list, today I “saw” a connection between two Bible stories, and a deeper understanding of what they might teach us about God’s long range plans for good—always. The first story, made famous in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Coat, traces some unpleasant family history among Jacob’s 12 sons.  The second describes Jesus healing and then feeding 5,000 with just five loaves and two fish, the only miracle that appears in all gospels. 

               As a child,  I learned about the eleven mean brothers who almost literally “threw their brother under the bus,” an evil deed motivated by jealousy, it seems.  Beginning the tale in Genesis 37, is the information that Jacob favors his youngest son, Joseph, not a healthy, family dynamic. Then Joseph talks about his dreams with sheaves and stars bowing down to him.  His brothers “envied him” (Gen. 37:11), and when Jacob sends Joseph out to them as they mind the sheep, they seize this opportunity to kill him.  Murder gets upgraded to abandonment, and Joseph lands in an empty pit.  Thus begin years of hardship and imprisonment until God “promotes” Joseph, putting him in the right place at the right time.

               The Pharaoh of Egypt hears a prisoner can interpret his dreams about cows and corn, and he sends for Joseph.  The gift God had given him enables Joseph to predict seven years of plenty in Egypt to be followed by seven years of famine.  Wisely, he suggests storing up the abundance for the coming years of scarcity.  Pharaoh decides Joseph, the interpreter, is the perfect man to supervise the job.  This time his gift from God elevates Joseph to a position to do good instead of imprisoning him because of others’ jealousy.

               Fast forward to Joseph’s famished brothers coming from Canaan to Egypt seeking food but not knowing their little brother is now Pharaoh’s right hand man.  Who knows how God fashioned into Joseph, despite years of captivity and misery, a willingness to reveal his identity to his brothers and forgive them, but that is what Joseph does. With Godly perspective, Joseph declares, “ . . . you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good . . . to save many people alive” (Gen. 50:20).

               Evil treatment is part of the loaves and fish miracle, too.  When Jesus hears about his cousin, John the Baptist, getting beheaded after being unjustly imprisoned, he withdraws “to a deserted place by Himself” (John 14:13).  However, the multitudes follow Him.  Jesus is then “moved with compassion for them, and (He) healed their sick” (vs.14).  This takes some time, and all these people get hungry.  One young lad innocently presents five barley loaves and two small fish (John 6:9).  Despite the disciples’ objection to His assurance this would feed 5,000 people, Jesus blesses the offering of so little, and God multiplies it, yielding more leftovers than the original amount.

               In both stories, the wicked ways of people, their jealousies and smallness of mind and heart, are fully displayed.  However, God’s intention was to be working good, not just for one but for many.  Joseph allowed God to fashion in him perseverance, character and hope, the painful process Paul describes in Romans 5, a process beginning with experiencing tribulations.  How grievous it must have been when Jesus heard of John’s fate.  But instead of questioning God’s goodness or spouting supposedly comforting generalizations, Jesus healed the people who came to Him and then provided lunch as well.  He ministered in the power of God to the people of God who followed after Him.  He wasn’t overcome by evil, but overcame the “evil with good” (Romans 12:21) as God enabled Him to do so.  Surely, there are lessons to be learned in these timeless stories about good and evil, power and love, and what the real work of God’s people should be. 

              

                

"Fearfully and wonderfully made"

              The “newest” baby that I ever saw—other than our own—is the third child of a former student of mine.  I met Janice more than 20 years ago while I was tutoring at the Writing Center of a local community college.   We became friends that semester, in part, because she needed an encourager in her efforts to succeed in college, a path only she, one of ten siblings, tried after her family came to America from Vietnam.  My husband and I became her American family, and we saw each one of her three children in their first days before they left the hospital.

               But John, the youngest of the three, we saw when he was only an hour old.  Janice had a planned C-section that morning more than five years ago now, and we were called to go in to see her while she was in a recovery area.  But then the nurse came in carrying the baby and shortly thereafter, this little one was in my arms.

               Our first grandchild was born just over three years ago in the mountains of North Carolina.  We had timed our visit to begin just before his due date, and because he did not pull any surprises, we were “on the ground” from Henry’s first minutes of life.  Our second grandchild, little Mason, was in a bit of a hurry and arrived about three weeks before her due date.  We caught our first “live look” at her when she was just 8 days old.  Our son proudly walked her out to our car when we finally arrived after a long but exciting car ride to Alabama.  Yes, we have traveled far and wide to share even a bit of such special moments of life, and being there was worth every mile driven.

Among all of life’s blessings, the safe arrival of a healthy little one is among the greatest and grandest.  Indeed, the handiwork of God always amazes.  Little fingers, tiny toes, works of wonder each one.  And we are deeply grateful.

On our drive back, we were sent on a detour along highway 139 not too far out of Nashville, Tennessee, where we had spent the night.  After seeing the 139 sign several times, I decided to take a fresh look at the words of Psalm 139, some of which are very familiar.  God is depicted as the Masterful creator as the psalmist declares, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (139:14).  Such an intimacy is described between God and his little creations.  “Your eyes saw my substance being yet unformed.  And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them” (139:16).

Our beginnings with God are quite intimate, and just as we as parents long for closeness with our children, God’s desire is for continued closeness with His children.  Choosing to stay close, to continue in love and gratitude with God and with each other, are surely imbedded in “the days fashioned” for all of us, each and every one.    

              

                

"With God" makes all the difference

                If you are or have ever been part of a small group of Christian people (in my experience, usually women) who come together with a real desire to learn more about God, then you are blessed, truly blessed.  And if this group wants to learn from God and from each other as they work through study materials, then bump that blessing up a notch.  With such a group as I have described is where I spent a few hours recently tackling a challenging lesson on sanctification.  We worked our way through specific questions and various additional comments on particularly hard issues.  I think we all had a little better understanding of this Christian exhortation to be sanctified, set apart unto God for His use and purposes when we went back “out into the world.”  A world, incidentally, that we are to be out in but not actually part of.

                And there it is:  another aspect of the Christian life that we surely can’t pull off on our own.  And isn’t it great that we don’t have to.  The lesson that centered on sanctification also emphasized our position “in Christ” and the role of the presence of the Holy Spirit within us.  That presence and its importance are at the heart of Jesus’s illustration of the vine and its branches.  In John’s gospel, Jesus explains:  “I am the vine, you are the branches.  He who abides in Me and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me, you can do nothing” (John 15:5).  We are to abide in Jesus and He in us—no other dynamic will achieve sanctification or anything else truly rooted in the love and power of God Himself.

               Now here is where it gets a little more interesting.  Just this morning when I had some quiet time here at home, somehow I came to a curious pairing of what I would say are very basic yet important aspects of this life of holiness, faith and love that we are called to live.  Yes, apart from God, we can do nothing but with God, nothing will be impossible (Luke 1:37).  These are from the words spoken to Mary by the angel who came to her and revealed God’s plan for her, a young virgin, to bear God’s own son.  Since Mary was understandably overwhelmed by this message, the angel went on to explain that the Holy Spirit would come upon her and God’s power would accomplish what to our minds would seem impossible.  Thus with the declaration that with God’s own presence and power at work in her and upon her, this miraculous conception could really happen.

               Mathew records another encounter that reveals God’s great ability when the disciples are observing the difficulties of leaving worldly possessions behind to follow God.  Jesus talks about how hard it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven, and they asked, “Who then can be saved?” (Mat. 19:23-26).  Jesus's explanation is simple and rather blunt:  “With men, this is impossible, but with God, all things are possible.”  Again, the wonder-working power of God can only be accessed by His living presence in us and our great dependence and awareness of the Holy Spirit who still speaks in that “still, small voice” Ezekiel heard after all the roaring wind, earthquake, and fire that preceded it (1 Kings 19:11-13).

               In Psalm 46:10, God gives a simple and clear directive:  “Be still and know that I am God.”  That has been an important and strong suggestion that God has brought me back to over and over again.  A more modern day version might be, “Ok, just simmer down.  Stop all the worry, the what ifs, the fears and frustrations—not unjustified feelings.  Now listen, carefully and diligently, to what I have to say about it all.”  Obviously, God can get His points across far more eloquently and simply than I can.

               God’s loving kindness is new every morning, new and greatly needed.  I thank Him for the opportunities to experience His grace and grow in our understanding of His counsel both in those times when we do come apart from the world to listen and when we come together with other seekers to collectively listen to God and to one another.  He is the God who calls us to be sanctified, to realize that on our own, we can do nothing.  Isn’t it wonderful news that we are not left with just this nothing.  We are clearly directed to believe that with God, there is another nothing, one which knows no limitation to the possibilities God can accomplish when He works in us as we abide in Him.  Indeed, with God ,nothing will be impossible.

 

Having Hope

                I have been on a long and winding road for some years trying to find identification and treatment for a set of symptoms including muscle and joint pain, stiffness and fatigue.  There have been numerous rounds of physical therapy, blood work, scans and doctor visits.  Just this past week, I met with yet another specialist, a hematologist, after a blood test result was way out of the normal range.  After sharing some information related to the blood test, this new doctor said for now she had “more questions than answers,” thus moving on to the need for further testing.  But then she said something that seemed to want to check out my “hope” amidst all of this.  My quick and direct reply was, “I have hope,” to which she added, “That is good.”

               What she didn’t ask and I didn’t offer was exactly what this hope that I have is or where it comes from.  Mitt Romney spoke of “binders full of women.”  Well, I have binders full of hope, God-given hope and faith—not the actual substance of hope but the bits and pieces recording scriptures, hymn and song lyrics, striking phrases from sermons, teaching and motivational stories, that I have written down in binders dating back to at least 2009.  I have written them down to have a record I can look back to at times, but perhaps more so to aid the process that somehow turns these gleanings into spiritual manna God seems to want to write on our hearts when we seek Him.    

               Almost 40 years ago now, I became ill with what seemed like the flu with the complication of pericarditis, an inflammation of the sack around the heart.  After some weeks of getting a little better only to feel sick again, I went to the hospital for a week’s worth of tests.  Only one which my doctor referred to as a “red herring” (a term I had previously been unfamiliar with) showed a positive reading, and this blood test was to be repeated in a couple weeks.   The second test also showed positive, and the antibiotic to treat paratyphoid (what? you might be asking) got me headed more steadily on the road to improvement. 

               It was during this frustrating and scary period that an English teacher I had worked with at Normandy High School encouraged me to read my Bible a little differently than I had thought of it before.  She pointed me more specifically to Jesus and to this written word as a present day opportunity for God to “speak” to me, personally.  Even more unusual, she suggested that I underline any passages that really caught my attention and ministered God’s comfort and hope to me as I read them.  And thus began a discovery of the very real and ageless work of God and His Holy Spirit for those who seek Him in any day to build in us the spiritual wisdom, insight, and hope, all of which marvelously create that wonderful gift of faith, even the kind that moves mountains of difficulty.

               One of the benefits I have come to appreciate about reading and absorbing the stories and teaching of the scriptures, Old and New Testaments alike, is what we can learn about God and about living a life of faith by the power that God can supply.  For example, David, the young shepherd boy, had learned how God’s name and power could be his help against beasts attacking his sheep.  That same God could help him win a confrontation with a huge giant that experienced and well-armed men were intimidated by.  Thousands of hungry people were fed from the scraps of a young boy’s lunch because Jesus knew what His father could do.  Desperate, sick people came to Jesus and he opened blind eyes and cleansed lepers from the dreadful effects of their disease.

               Jesus told His disciples that it was to their advantage that He would be going away.  In John 14, He talked about how the Father would send the Helper, the Holy Spirit, who would teach them all things and “bring to your (their) remembrance all things” that He had told them.  It is quite remarkable how this Holy Spirit, the living presence of God within us, can bring to mind a verse, a hymn lyric, a strong Biblical promise that some time previously we have read or heard.

               One of the times God brought “back to my remembrance” something meaningful I had read happened about 8 years ago.  I was a little fearful about an upcoming change involving where one of our children would attend graduate school.  You know how those “what if” chains can get started in our mental musings.  But seemingly out of nowhere, this line kept coming to my mind, something about not forgetting the “possibilities born of faith.”  This didn’t seem to match any scriptures I could think of, but the magic of Google identified the source to be a prayer penned by Mother Theresa.  “May you never forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.”  Hope and peace from God to my listening and needy heart, words from a prayer I had read in an email but had forgotten about.

               I do have hope, fed and fueled each day by the fresh living water God will bring to us when we look to Him, when we set out expectations in what He promises and only He can give. 

Cookies and kindness for "weary travelers"

From the beginning, my association with chocolate chip cookies was built on love.  In my grandmother’s kitchen, she and I would make the Toll House cookie recipe right on the Nestles chip bag.  To thoroughly mix the butter and sugars, Grandmother Jewel would use her hands, and I suspect my hands got in on that before I was very old.  Going to spend the night with her at her one bedroom apartment usually meant there would be cookie baking, Frito munching and fun.  Although she lived only five minutes away from my house, these overnights were something I looked forward to.

I’m sure cookie baking and eating were woven into my years growing up, and I did develop an interest in baking myself as a teenager.  “In the olden days,” as my grown daughter calls them, there were no specialty cookie stores in nearby malls.  The cookies, cakes and pies eaten at our house were baked in somebody’s kitchen.  Even in the 50s and 60s there were bakeries, but I don’t remember purchasing our “sweet tooth” items at them or even in the grocery stores.  Something I do remember is buying some outstanding chocolate chips cookies in the high school cafeteria; perhaps this is when my discriminating appreciation for thicker, gooier versions was born.

Nothing stands out in my memories of cookie baking and eating until after I began teaching in high school (the same one I attended) and got married.   My husband and I were back in touch with two of my high school friends who married each other.  Jan and I had become very good friends in junior high; she and Randy moved to an apartment very close to the neighborhood we lived in.  Randy had a younger sister who had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and had declined rather quickly.  Her parents had remodeled their home in a small town not far from St. Louis to accommodate her increasing disability.

On a visit to Randy’s parent’s house, a brownie-like version of chocolate chip cookies made its entrance into our family narrative of Toll House affection.  By this time, Randy’s sister, now in her twenties, was bedridden, and it was clear that her parents greatly welcomed loving friends and visitors coming to their country home.  I have no idea what our lunch was that day, but the dessert, gooey chocolate chip brownies, was a hit from the first bite.  Of course, I asked for the recipe.  To this day, I never bake the brownies without thinking of this day spent with people so overwhelmed with difficulty.  Their daughter died not long after our visit.

After teaching four years, I moved into a full time homemaker role with the birth of our first child, Bonnie.  After she and her little brother were settled in, I continued in the spirit of both of my grandmothers really, baking cookies and brownies as before now adding sourdough bread making to the baking routine.  That little jar of starter in my refrigerator needed to be fed every week and also used to make bread.  Definitely, my baking repertoire had expanded but my attention was quickly turned back to those wonderful brownies in a rather public way.

Before the demise of suburban journals in our area, every week the North County Journal featured a local cook, running a picture, story and recipe.  I still have a copy of the picture taken in our backyard of me holding a pan of chocolate chip brownies.  A part time writer about my age had come to the house to interview me for the story section of the feature.  As I shared some of “my story” with her, she shared some with me.  She, too, was a young mom home with children about the same age as mine.  She thought of herself as a writer whereas I thought of myself more as a teacher.  However, she encouraged me to check into doing some “stringer” work (freelance writer) for the journal.  And thus my writing “career” (very loose use of the word career) was born—partly because of that delicious chocolate chip brownie recipe.

I did eventually interview with the Journal editor who said her gut told her to “take a chance on a former English teacher” for some human interest stories even though her experiences hiring English teachers had not been positive ones.  Fortunately for both of us, covering some stories went well, and I even stayed in touch with the lady who had interviewed me.  Again, trailing behind a chocolate chip recipe shared in the community, more of a narrative of my life as a teacher continued.

It was actually through a Journal connection that I found out I had a chance for employment at the nearby community college.  I hadn’t even considered looking for part time work there since I did not have a master’s degree.  Another former English teacher working as a stringer for the Journal passed along some materials to me as she handed over her regular feature highlighting various churches in the area.  She was also teaching GED classes at an auto factory nearby through the Continuing Education program at the college.  Following up her tip to seek work opportunities at the school led to my getting an adjunct job teaching developmental English; doing this required only a bachelor’s degree. 

Our children were growing up and life became busier with working and caring for parents with health difficulties.  Baking anything was much lower on the list of priorities.  The sourdough starter bit the dust early on.  But always there were opportunities for those chocolate chip creations, and a very special one evolved after my father had been placed on hospice care and was spending what would be the last few months of his life at a skilled nursing facility.

Dad had retired about 15 years before this, and he had become the chief cook and shopper for my mother and him.  He was not a baker, but he was an appreciator—and lucky recipient—of some of the baking I still did.  So, when I visited him at the nursing facility, I would keep a steady supply of homemade chocolate chips cookies in his room for him to snack on.  Soon he began offering cookies to his hospice nurse, Lana, a wonderful and kind caregiver who had just started working as a hospice nurse.  It became a much-enjoyed ritual for the two of them to have a cookie at the beginning of her frequent visits. Many cookies later, I think they truly came to love one another over the course of those few months.  They were both special people.

Between this time and the next major chocolate chip event some years passed by.  Our daughter graduated from college and came back to St. Louis to work on a master’s degree.  After completing that, she got a job teaching high school history and moved into an apartment with a friend who also got her first teaching job.  Both of them liked to bake and entertain friends and family, and it wasn’t long before Bonnie had breathed new life into the chocolate chip brownie recipe.  She served it to guests and often took it to pot luck gatherings.  This brought the recipe front and center in my life again, and I, too, started making the brownies—always a hit—more often.

Even before looking up the origin of Tollhouse cookies, I was aware that their beginnings were just by chance.  What was first constructed in 1709 as a toll house was purchased by Kenneth and Ruth Wakefield to become a lodge.  The Cape Cod style construction was built as a place to pay tolls, change horses, and enjoy some home-cooked meals for those traveling from Boston to New Bedford, Massachusetts.  The Wakefields thus called it The Tollhouse Inn, and Ruth’s Butter Drop Do cookies became a favorite.  One day she added some bits of a semi-sweet chocolate bar, thinking the chocolate would melt and flavor all the dough.  However, the chocolate didn’t actually melt, thus becoming distinct bits of chocolate in the cookies.  Since people liked them, she kept making them, and the recipe eventually was published in a Boston paper.  Ruth, a clever business woman in her day, brokered a deal with Nestle to put her recipe on its chocolate bar in exchange for a lifetime supply of this now much-in-demand baking item.  In 1939, Nestle started producing the chocolate in chip form for ease in handling.  What began at an Inn now numbers up to 7 billion cookies annually, half of the cookie consumption worldwide.

In a broader sense, the real tollhouse was built with a very important purpose:  in effect, it was a haven for weary travelers.  From its beginning, I would be willing to bet that there was a large portion of love in the service of offering relief for tired folk in days of far more difficult travel.  I would not have called myself a weary traveler in those first encounters with mixing chocolate chip cookies at my grandmother’s.  That identification has come later in life.  But just as love threads through the narrative of chocolate chips in my own life experiences, I imagine hospitality and simple kindness, wonderful and ageless Christian virtues, were offered with those necessary services at that early tollhouse which later became The Tollhouse Inn.

"Hearing" the rain

            Several years ago, my husband and I went to St. Louis’s Shakespeare festival in Forest Park, site of the 1904 World’s Fair.  Honestly, I do not remember which play was to be performed that night, but what I do remember is the terrible storm that hit about 7:55 pm, just minutes before the main attraction of the evening was to begin.  We had attended previous productions at this wonderful outdoor setting, but on this night, we had brought an orphaned teenage girl who struggled with some serious problems and lived in a group home not far from our house.  She definitely had not been to anything like what this evening would present to her.

            The weather forecast for the night had not looked promising, and the coming storm loomed ever closer.  Still, we sat on the grass waiting until the wind started blowing rather fiercely, and the threatening skies began to pour rain.  We raced for the car and watched the impressive lightening display fill the skies all the way home.  I had not been “caught” in a storm of that severity for quite some time.

            That night, it didn’t require psychic abilities—or arthritic symptoms-- to know that rain was on the way; the evidence of the coming storm was all around us.  However, the approaching rain was not something we heard until it actually started pouring.  This seems to be the way rain works; once it begins in small or large quantities, the sound it makes announces its arrival.

            Something different is described in the story of Elijah, the prophet, in the Old Testament.  God had informed Elijah before the dramatic encounter with the prophets of Baal that there would be rain in Israel:  “Go, present yourself to Ahab, and I will send rain on the earth” (1 Kings 18:1).  After Elijah won the “contest” with the false prophets, he turned to King Ahab and said, “Go up, eat and drink; for there is the sound of abundance of rain” (1 Kings18:41).  Continuing with this assurance, the prophet prayed, asking his servant to go check the sky for clouds seven times.  God had revealed his plan about three years of draught and then rain coming, so Elijah had no doubt as to what God’s will was in this matter.  Still, he had to pray seven times, and he had to believe the rain would come just as God had told him.

            Recently, in this tale of Elijah and his expectation of God’s promised rain, I have become aware of another insight into the work of God and the faith that “sees” the end God has in mind before the physical manifestation of that end actually comes to pass.  Nearing the part of the chapter describing the persevering prayer for rain by this very tested and proven man of God, Elijah says that he hears “the sound of an abundance of rain.”  This must be a profession of faith—there are no clouds, there is no real sound of any rain falling at the moment he makes this remark.  In effect, Elijah is saying, “I believe God will do what He has told me about His plans.”

So, the question for us today seems to be, “Are we listening, are we seeking God and wanting to know what good plans He might have to work in our own lives in our own times?”  Surely, we live in a world that very much needs to see miraculous demonstrations of the compassion and love God has for all of us.  If God has not changed—and the Bible clearly states He has not (“He never changes or casts shifting shadows” James 1:17 NLT)—then we should expect Him to reveal glimpses of His good plans and then supernaturally give us the faith to believe these things will happen just as He has said they would.

            About 300 prophecies of the coming of Jesus, our Savior, can be found in the Bible.   For example, He was “born of a virgin;” He “carried away” our iniquities and infirmities, thus becoming the promised Messiah.  God is, indeed, the same, revealing to listening hearts the good He would like to do for each one of us.  May God help us to be better listeners and to be more earnestly prayerful people who persevere in our petitions until the expected answers arrive—just as Elijah persevered until God’s words became rain-producing clouds.   May each of us take the time to seek God and “hear” His plans and promises, and then, to truly believe.      

It's in not with

               Despite the fact that I am the former English teacher, it is my husband who can still recite a list of prepositions he learned in high school.  What a show-off!  No matter how many we can list, it is important to know that although prepositions are usually small words, they can make a big difference in the grammar of the sentence and its meaning.

               As I did a lesson for a Bible study group that explores how Christ is “in” us, I was reminded of the importance of trying to more fully appreciate His living presence as described in the New Testament.  According to John’s account, Jesus told his disciples that it was to their advantage that He would be going away.  He spoke of “the Helper” and promised them this:  “I will pray the Father, and He will give you another Helper . . . the Spirit of truth . . . for He dwells with you and will be in you” John 14:16,17).  Note two different prepositions and two different verb tenses for us to pay attention to (spoken like a true English teacher). 

               In the Old Testament, God presented Himself as the presence that would be with His people.  In Exodus 33:14, God made an important statement and promise to Moses, saying “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”  A source of encouragement, comfort and guidance was revealed to Moses, and God was faithful to “speak” His word.  Sometimes, people, even His chosen people, were not as good about listening.

               When Jesus referenced this living presence as already dwelling with His people, it was very significant that He added that this same God who had accompanied them and led them would now come in some new way to live “in them.”  I’m sure I would have been wondering what Jesus meant by changing those little prepositions.

               At meal time, we often ask one another, “What do you want to drink with dinner?”  Once a choice is made, that beverage is placed next to our plate.  We might be having water or soda or perhaps a more potent liquid, but whatever it is, it becomes what we are having with our dinner.  For the drink, especially water, to do us any good nutritionally, it must be consumed, thus getting in us.  Only in us, can it possibly nourish our physical bodies.  In fact, we cannot live too long without drinking water.  It is part of our very life once taken in.

               For many Christians, communion offers a way for Christ’s living presence to be taken inside of us.  It happens by faith when we purposely anticipate and receive the life this sacrament makes available to us.  In my own life, I have been trying to be more focused on taking in Christ as the “living water” and “bread of life” when I have prayer time.  I think part of anything in the faith life is about wanting and seeking God, earnestly desiring in some way to take more of Him inside our spiritual beings. 

               One of the questions in my Bible lesson asks, “What does it mean to you that Christ lives in your inner being?”  My answer, which I didn’t carefully think out, actually caught my attention with its simple wording.  “It (His presence) is a well of living water, an immeasurable resource above all others.”  May we all more purposely and frequently seek to partake of the living nourishment of the Holy Spirit that God has so richly provided for us to dine on.  It is to be in, not with.   

Keys, Freely Given

            Let’s just say I wrote a “self-fulfilling prophecy” into an email to our son right before    we made the recent transition to a new cable provider.  My exact words were, “I hope the change does not become a big hassle.”  May I suggest you avoid such statements, written or spoken, on the verge of any changes. 

            The cable technician told my husband and me that we could keep the old email address, so we did not send out emails about any coming change.  The old account worked for about a week, and in the short space of five minutes, Jim successfully used the account, and then I could no longer get into it.  Suddenly, we had no access to what we needed.

            A few weeks ago, Jim and I visited a weekly worship and prayer gathering here in North County.  The speaker talked about a well-known text, focusing on what Jesus says about building His church and giving his followers the “keys of the kingdom” (Mat. 16:19).  He then talked about keys and what they provide to us, emphasizing that keys give us access.  Despite the fact that I am familiar with this passage, I know there is more to understand and learn here.

            The word “access” and how it works popped into my mind the minute I could no longer get into our old email account.  Not having access disabled the account for our use, and we could not, in any way, “get to” the emails therein.  On the other hand, having access had provided immediate use of the account and the features it provided.   

            I have found more to consider on this subject of keys to the kingdom.  On a recent Sunday at our daughter’s church in Illinois, I heard a message referring to Jesus’s directions in Luke 12:31,32:  “But seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added to you.  Do not fear, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”  These words followed Jesus’s discussion on what his listeners worry about having, things like food, clothing, and even our lives.  His words move us toward what is really important as He says “seek first the kingdom of God.”

            In Jesus’s secret meeting with Nicodemus, He tells him that “unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3).  Jesus explains that we can’t “see” this kingdom of another realm than our worldly existence and what our human senses tell us.  Just two verses later, he adds,  “unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.”  Just like we are born physically, we must be born spiritually to have “access” to (enter) this kingdom.  And then Jesus makes our entry into this kingdom even clearer when He says, “I am the way, the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father but through Me” (John 6:6).

Our world today is flooded with “how to” books, messages, and exhortations on many subjects.  It is appealing to think we can follow three steps or more to reach some desirable end.  Many book titles even begin with the words “How to . . . “ and thousands of books are probably purchased every day by people wanting to obtain whatever the book examines.  Even Christian books and teachings present steps and how-to’s, including what I am presently reading,  How to Experience Revival,  by Charles Finney.  On its cover, Finney is described as “the most noteworthy nineteenth-century apostle of revival.”  I expect to learn about Finney and his times and experience by reading this book, but surely bringing revival will require more than reading a book.  

Jesus gives us these keys to the kingdom.  To build His church, we need to discover what they actually are and how they are to work in the lives of Christian people—or perhaps more accurately, how they are supposed to work in our lives .  Considering Jesus’s own ministry, I see He did not deal uniformly with people asking for His help.  Sometimes, He blessed them by commending their faith and telling them to go and be well.  Sometimes, He commanded demons out of some poor tormented soul.  Sometimes, He even prayed more than one time for the healing needed, such as for the blind man whose vision was progressively restored (Mark 8:22-25).  There is not a step- by- step or “one size fits all” in Jesus’s ministry, and there is not supposed to be in ours, either.

Jesus talked about being born again and gaining access to His Father’s kingdom through faith in Him.  Often He spoke of the Christian life as being one of searching and seeking and having constant union with Him and His life-giving Spirit.  He credited His Father with working in and through Him to accomplish the Father’s work--real kingdom work--and He points us to the same dynamic, a living connection with a living Lord who will lead us and guide us “step by step” and day by day.

Kindness, An Underrated Virtue

            At times, I have felt like a rejected door-to-door salesman visiting new patients at Missouri Baptist Health Center as a volunteer for the Pastoral Care program.  From the very start of each visit, I get a strong impression of what the response will be as I share my information about spiritual offerings.  Despite the clear occasions of rejection, there are always moments that make me so glad that I have come to do this every month.

            Today’s highlight—and possibly this year’s top encounter—came about mid-morning when I walked into a room where two patients were happily visiting seated across the room by the window.  I knew these women were both the patients because each one had on a highly fashionable hospital gown.  The younger lady, in her mid-fifties, quickly let me know that her roommate, an impressive 91 year- old, had significant hearing loss.  We proceeded with my efforts to talk louder while we all got a little better acquainted.  Both women were quite cheerful and obviously enjoying the visiting going on.

            People have such interesting stories and some can be quite moving in different ways.  The lady closing in on 100 shared just a little, mostly praising her hard-working doctor.  Life had been rather eventful for her roommate.  After 28 years with a St. Louis company, both she and her husband were fired right after the new owner took the reins.  She was about to go home from the hospital after a relatively minor procedure, but there is a larger health issue that is being monitored.  Not exactly where she expected to be at this point in life, I would imagine.

            However, along with her husband, she is moving to a new city and making a new beginning.  Part of the draw to this particular Midwest city is that a daughter and her 14-month old child are already living there.  I felt like saying, “You go, girl,” but that is not really something I ever say.  What I did do was cheer her positive outlook, commending her moving on and looking forward, not back.  Part of my enthusiasm for her attitude stems from my own job loss, a part-time position I had been in for 19 years, now four years ago.  I referred to this as getting “deleted” from the screen.  She seemed drawn to this computer analogy maybe because she was a computer whiz in her former life.

            When I walk out of a patient’s room, I usually make a short notation on the printouts we are given in preparation for the short totaling slip we fill in before we leave the hospital.  Standing in the hall, I overheard the ladies’ continued conversation and thought about how great it is that someone experiencing such undesired work and personal circumstances was so ready to be kind and compassionate to a woman who had been a stranger no more than a day earlier.  Surely this “adoption” is part of what Jesus describes when He explains how He separates the goat from the sheep as those who see a stranger and “take” them in (Mat. 25:34-40).

            I have commented on more than one occasion that simple kindness is a highly underrated virtue.  One of the first things I noticed when I met the man our daughter married was his kind and gentle manner.  Today’s encounter with these women was another time I was struck by this quality in others.  In Psalm 19:1, the firmament is described as the “handiwork” of God.  I would add that kindness from the heart expressed from one person to another is certainly  God’s handiwork, also.  Both can be beautiful to behold.

Clothed in Christ

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              As I recall, it was my daughter who first “introduced” me to the show, “What Not to Wear” on cable TV a few years back.  During each episode, two young, stylish hosts take on some poor, fashion-challenged adult and attempt to drag the poor soul out of whatever rut she is in and bring her up to date.  Often the candidate has been brought to the attention of the show by a daughter or friend.

The program usually starts with the hosts actually going through the candidate’s closet, item by item, explaining why each piece of clothing is no longer suitable and then throwing it away in a large trash can.  It is actually a little painful to watch their “victim” as she reluctantly watches some old favorites—and I emphasize the adjective “old” here—leaving her possession.

            I will say by the end of the show, the transformation in appearance is rather amazing.  After shopping for new clothes, the freshly clad lady is then put into the hands of make-up and hair styling experts.  In the final scene, the fashionable and newly confident individual walks into a room of friends who cannot believe what is right in front of their eyes.  The whole process—I must confess—is fun to watch. 

            This morning a devotion reading reminded me of this show and presented a spiritual kind of “makeover” Christians should willingly submit to.  Being followers of Jesus Christ does not keep us from feeling grumpy, discouraged, angry or even unforgiving.  We can get into ruts of poor thinking and less-than-loving living.  Thankfully, God does not leave us to grapple with these feelings and temptations on our own.   We can come into God’s presence and be made new, transformed into the likeness of Christ.

Paul instructed the Colossians to “Put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering . . . but above all things, put on love” (Col. 3:12,14).  We are to be new creations, cleaned out and properly attired—far from the lights and cameras of cable TV!

Running the race--by faith

             I have “dabbled” in water aerobics over the years at various locations and just recently began anew at a retreat center practically out my back door!  The class of mostly older ladies is small, but the pool is a nice size with one of the long walls made entirely of windows.  This wall of white light showcases the view of grass and evergreens just outside and toward the back area of the property.  If you are picturing a soothing and peaceful setting, you are on the right track.

            Water in its varied presentations in nature and man-made forms has always attracted me.  Perhaps looking out over stretches of rivers, lakes and oceans makes me feel more connected to God as our creator.  In the rushing falls of Niagara to the quiet beauty of a hidden cove, I sense God’s greatness and soothing power.

            But I digress--back to the present and aerobics.  This last exercise class as I exited on the steps in the shallow end of the pool, I became aware of feeling so much heavier, especially in moving my legs which are fairly stiff.  Water does have a freeing element, it seems.  One feels lighter and stronger, enabled in ways that our usual experience of gravity prevents.  In other words, I felt very “weighed down” stepping out one slow step at a time.

            As I thought on this, I was reminded of a verse in Hebrews, one I have appreciated in various ways over the years.  “ . . . let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith” (Heb. 12:1,2).  Clearly, sin in its various forms from actual deeds to wrong and stubbornly willful words and  intentions impedes our ability to stay on the faithful and believing course that God calls us to.  At the root of this whole issue of faith and obedience is the condition of our hearts, hearts that can turn toward God and walk with Him but even then fall victim to unbelief. 

Consider these words written for believers:  “Beware, brothers lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the living God,” (Heb. 3:12).  We need that ongoing presence of the Holy Spirit.  We need to be listening to God’s still, small voice, humbly acknowledging how dependent we are on God for what only He can give:  faith, hope and love in the midst of life’s difficulties.  Jesus describes this infilling presence as a life abiding in the true vine, adding that “without Me, you can do nothing” (John 15:5).

    The story of Lazarus is such a great illustration of the good will and power of God even when it appears that the entreaties and prayers of the dead man’s sisters, Martha and Mary, have been of no avail.  Their brother is dead, sealed off in a cold tomb by the time Jesus arrives.  Martha even tells Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21).  But her very next words suggest a remnant of hope:  “But even now, I know that whatever You ask of God, God will give you” (11:22).  Jesus then tells her that despite the appearance of things, her brother will “live again.”

She could have remained angry and resentful.  She could have avoided Jesus all together since He didn’t save her brother.  He didn’t come soon enough to really make a difference in the progression of the disease.  She, however, remains engaged with Jesus, taking in what He is saying to her, including this claim and an accompanying question:  “I am the resurrection and the life.   He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live . . . Do you believe this?” (15:25,26).  And when Martha worries about the stench that will come from the tomb when Jesus asks that the stone be moved away, Jesus asks the same question another way.  “Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?” (11:40).

Jesus knew the end of this story from the beginning.  When He first heard that Lazarus was sick, He said, “This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God that the Son of God may be glorified through it” (15:4).  During Jesus’s earthly life, He often told the disciples what would be happening in the future.  He told them about his death and the coming of the Holy Spirit “before it comes, that when it comes to pass, you may believe” (John 14:29).

This life that can be lived apart from the weight and entanglements of sin and beyond the limits of our very real unbelief is possible only “by faith” as it was to those who have come before us.  Many, many times since I first was struck by the central question Jesus asks these grieving sisters, I have heard that still, small voice of God beckoning me, also, to believe in the overcoming power of God—no matter what.