To Do

The first time that I ever set out to read the Bible I had this bright idea to start a “To Do” list.  I got confused and thought the Bible was a self-help book listing things I ought to do.  So,  I began listing.  Number 1.  Number  2.  Number 3.  This turned into page 1.  Then page 2.

They were all good things.   So, I wanted to go on and on.

And, I did.

Well, I mean I did until the exhaustion of it all started leaving me so weary. I was feeling overcome with defeat.  But, as I kept reading I kept adding until the pressure of my bright idea was more than I could bear.

Shew!

Think Type A and fill my name in the blank.

You can hardly trust us “me, myself and I” types.  We easily fall prey to productivity no matter the cost.

But, there’s an opportunity cost to our decisions says every Economics class.

When in fact there is a process the good Lord uses to make us holy and set apart for His purpose, but it’s through a relationship of faith in Him.  It’s being offered as free and the opportunity cost is the list of my frenzy.

In Galatians, Paul has to explain to rule keepers they can’t hold fast to the lists of laws they pridefully master. He says, “You were running the race so well.  Who has held you back from following the truth?  It certainly isn’t God, for He called you into freedom.”

Christ came down to exemplify and extend His grace by putting to death our weak works and feeble efforts.

It’s what HE produces in you!   Underscore He.  Scratch out Me.

There is an opportunity cost to following Christ.

We have to give up our own exhausting yoke.

Jesus says, “Take my yoke.  Let me teach you.  I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”

It’s His bright idea.

Galatians 5:4-8

Matthew 11:29

Listen

“Oh, that you would listen to His voice today.”

For years I taught students to write.  In all those years in education, I just loved reading budding authors.  Each one would develop their own distinct voice.  Some were so strong that by the end of the year I would know the writer without them even having to put their name at the top of their paper.

My “fiddle-fart” cousin always uses her comedic voice to write.  She tells me how she gussies herself up and swashbuckles over to Kroger.  How she tootles along most days, but when life gives her a Monday she dips in glitter and sparkles all day.  You get the picture.  She doesn’t have to sign her name to anything.  I know her.  This whimsical cuz says she’s a spectacle of superlative proportions.  She’s not wrong.

The Lord has a distinct voice, too.

Sometimes it is plainly clear. He’s the one who owns the depths of the earth.  He’s the one that made the sea and formed the dry land, too.  It’s very clear.  So, bow down and worship.  Kneel before the Lord our Maker.  He’s our God.

But, sometimes I’m not sure if it’s His voice.  And, I know others aren’t either because He says,  “They refuse to do what I say.”  I know His patience can be tried.  I mean, can you say, “Israelites?”   It’s comforting to know that even a prophet like Jeremiah commented,  “Then I knew it was from the Lord.”  Which has to mean that there was a time that he didn’t know.

The Lord is speaking to us all and I think that can be very powerful and majestic for all our benefit.

But, sometimes He is speaking to the benefit of one and I think that can be very gentle like a whisper.

There was a mighty wind.

The Lord was not in the wind.

There was an earthquake.

The Lord was not in the earthquake.

There was a fire.

The Lord was not in the fire.

There was the sound of a gentle whisper.

It was a still small voice.

Oh, that we would listen today.

Psalm 95:7

Jeremiah 32:8

1 Kings 19:11

Mountains

We often head to the mountains.

This year’s sighting of our first mountain brought to mind a funny story. My daughter’s 5-year-old son had been asked at school to list all he was thankful for in life. The teacher reading his thankfulness was quick to notice the absence of an important figure. She prompted him with the “mmm” sound to add one more. After great thought, he added “mountains” to his list.

This hurt his little momma’s feelings.

A lot had made the list.  Mountains made the list.

But, not Momma.

With little time for fun and getting off-schedule when operating a home, mommas can sure feel like the bad guy.  With little time for rollicking and frolicking, mommas can get zero recognition for this full-time job.  Mommas just aren’t typically the fun parent.

This momma fears her responsibility, organization and structure disguises her as a fuddy-duddy.

But that doesn’t fool any grown adult.  This little momma has a hidden superpower.

It’s called faith.

You want to know what faith can move?

Mmm.

Mountains.

Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, if you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it would move.  Nothing would be impossible.”

Mommas have little time for molehills.

They’re doing the impossible.

Moving mountains.

Read: Matthew 17:20; Mark 11:23

My Father

Anniversary dates have their way of calling to remembrance.

January 14 is one of those dates.

I don’t often like to look back on things that are gone. I’m not one to perseverate.  But, I almost always work to schedule reminiscing on anniversary dates, because I also don’t want to forget.

This was the date of my father’s last day.

I think back to Mom standing beside his hospital bed in those last moments and repositioning his pillow.  One of the last things she would have ever done for him.  She noticed lent and couldn’t let it stay.  She tucked him in a little tighter under his sheets.  She knew he’d be cold.  His later years brought him constant cold.  I couldn’t help but pay attention to his five foot nothing frame underneath his bedding and thought what a giant this man was. My father’s presence was larger than life.

Mom removed a latex glove to swipe his hair across his forehead with her fingertips. He knew this touch.  I imagined even needing it.  She didn’t say anything as she repeated this motion.  I knew her mind was occupied.  I suspect it was replaying the sixty-six years of marital memories that was coming to its end. Likely those memories only the two of them shared.  Likely those no one else need know.

I can’t help but think back to my father’s life that now feels so heroic.  A man who used his years so nobly to guard his children. His prudent protections spared us from childhood tragedies. His shrewd safekeeping spared us from a life of any lamentable affairs. He was our passionate protector. He never absolved himself from any responsibility or duty to do what was right at the time and cared less what others thought in the present to do what was best for our future.

He gave us a life worth remembering not regretting.  He left us a past to treasure not history to hide.

It’s to his good Lord and mine that I give great thanks.

Indeed, the means for an imposing figure.

Read:  1 Corinthians 15:57