God does supply our needs

2 Corinthians 12:9

Good News Translation (GNT)

⁹ But his answer was: “My grace is all you need, for my power is greatest when you are weak.”

Mom graduated from college with a major in elocution. According to Merriam-Webster, elocution is “the study of how to speak clearly and in a way that is effective and socially acceptable.” She was known wherever she went for her ability to hold audiences spell-bound with her readings and talks.

As I grew up, Mom had numerous students who learned to speak effectively and convincingly under her tutelage. She gave me a few lessons, but I think she despaired because I had such a huge case of stage fright. When I had to stand up in class and make a presentation, my mouth would be so dry I could hardly get any words out, my knees so weak I could hardly stand, and my shirt soaked with fear-produced sweat.

Yet in college I trained to be a teacher. I still don’t understand why. I had to do practice teaching before I graduated, and this was an ordeal that I endured as a necessary evil. In graduate school I took a yearlong topology class taught by the “Moore Method.” The basic idea of this method was that each student had to present the proof of a theorem. The fellow students were expected to criticize the presentation—and they did, viciously. I dreaded that class; however, I never thought of dropping it and finding another way around it. My first presentations were shredded into tiny pieces, each piece contemptuously discarded. As the year went along, my presentations improved to the point that I could do them flawlessly. When I chose a topic for my dissertation, it was in topology because I knew that there was hardly any result I couldn’t prove.

A couple years ago I went with my wife to her Toastmasters Club. I was there purely as a guest and an observer. I was shocked when someone said, “Sylvia has brought a guest; let’s give him a topic to speak on.” I stood up and started speaking although I had no idea what I was going to say. An African experience of ours came to mind, and I told it with confidence.

A couple weeks ago Sylvia brought a friend from Toastmasters along on a tour we were on. I introduced myself to her, and she replied, “Oh I know you! You came to Toastmasters some years ago and told us that African experience. That was so interesting!”

Indeed God has taken a very weak part of me and by His grace has made it strong.

Thank you, Lord, for taking our weaknesses and bolstering them by Your grace.

Spiritual Gift vs the Peter Principle

Ephesians 4:11-12

King James Version (KJV)

¹¹ And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; ¹² For the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ:

Call him Olaf. He retired recently from being an accountant who worked in various organizations of the church his entire career. When Olaf and I had several hours together, I had the opportunity to hear him tell about his rich and varied experiences.

Olaf had the financial talent to go to an institution that was in financial difficulties and over the period of two or three years turn the institution around and place it on a sound fiscal footing. Businesses that had reached the point of not trading with it would now smile and gladly do business with it again. People who had sincerely doubted that the institution could even be Christian because they didn’t pay their bills now began to get renewed confidence in the work of Christ. Those who had come to mock Christ because of His followers’ unfaithfulness now were willing to grant that now there indeed might be some good in the Christian community.

Of course, with that kind of talent, as soon as the institution was on its feet and going forward strongly again, Olaf would be asked to move to another institution in the red. So Olaf gained experience working in schools, conferences, and union conference offices.

He told me that he had wanted to be a pastor, but when he was in college he realized that he was very shy. Furthermore, he had a very difficult time speaking publically. He did enjoy numbers and realized that accountants could stay in their offices and still do their work and make a good impact all around. So he had devoted this gift to the advancement of the work of Christ.

One conference office where he was working came under the leadership of a new president, Pieter. The president came in with a vigorous new policy of his own devising. He told all of the conference workers that each of them had to spend several months a year conducting public evangelistic meetings. Anyone who didn’t start such a meeting was very quickly demeaned and belittled in the organization. They were discriminated against in any way possible.

Olaf, of course, didn’t tell me this, but it is very obvious to me that Pieter’s zeal was not purely the advancement of the body of Christ; it was even more importantly for the advancement of Pieter in that organization. The church had only two measures of success: the number of baptisms and the amount of tithe brought into the coffers. Pieter appeared to be aiming to gain success in the former at all costs, ignoring Paul’s statement to the Ephesians that different people in the church have different gifts.

Lord, grant me the wisdom and determination to recognize and use the gift you have given me despite the urgings of some narrow-minded zealots.

A Time of Trouble

Daniel 12:1

GOD’S WORD Translation (GW)

12 “At that time Michael, the great commander, will stand up on behalf of the descendants of your people. It will be a time of trouble unlike any that has existed from the time there have been nations until that time. But at that time your people, everyone written in the book, will be rescued.

We were driving along old US 66 when we came to a gas station that had an excellent price if we paid by cash. Going inside I gave the rather haggard, old woman at the till $40 and went out and pumped my gas.

When I came back inside to get my change, she was nowhere in sight. I stood waiting. Eventually I saw her waddling her very bulky body back towards the till. I called out “I guess there’s no rest for the wicked or peace for the lousy!”

She laughed and called back “I haven’t heard that in a long time!”

When she finally limped back to the till, she told me she really didn’t want to work, “But I’m glad I got a job! You know it’s the pits to get old!” She looked at least as old as I, though she may have been a lot younger.

“Yes!” I said, “It is the pits to get old—but it sure’ beats the alternative!”

“I don’t think so!” and her face frowned even deeper. “You know it’s going to get a lot worse than it is now!” She was deadly in earnest. “Do you know what’s coming?”

She went on: “You know no one comes through that door by accident!”

“You mean there’s a real time of trouble coming.” I agreed with her.

“Absolutely!” she said as she handed me my change.

“Thank you!” I said as I took the money. Then I leaned across the counter and looked her square in the eye. “The grace of Jesus Christ is going to see both you and me through it!” I assured her with sincere conviction.

Her face instantly glowed with the same assurance. I don’t think I have ever seen a face full of doom and despair transform so instantaneously to vibrant, radiant joy. “You’re very right!”

“God bless you!” I called as I walked out the door.

What tremendous joy the grace of Christ holds for us even though we allow troubles to obscure it at times.

When we don't remember...

Ephesians 1:7-8

New International Version (NIV)

⁷ In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace ⁸ that he lavished on us.

Lucy lived with us for 12 years. She came from a loving pastor’s home. But they couldn’t keep her anymore because they were doing Vietnamese recordings for Adventist World Radio in their home, and Lucy yapped all the time. In fact that’s why we named her after Lucille Ball. She was a very loving, 8 pound ball of red fur that would dance around the room on her hind paws at the merest hint that she might get some attention.

She was a great watch dog, and we were made almost painfully aware anytime anybody or especially any other dog came by the house, even on the far side of the street. She had trouble with sphincter control on occasion, but short of a nominal scolding she was always forgiven. She loved us and never ran away and was so full of exuberance that she never learned to heel--or anything else. She was small enough so that on several occasions she attracted the attention of a passing coyote.

When she was about 14 years old, she suffered what appeared to be a stroke. She never barked again. She didn’t recognize us or anybody else. She wandered around the house in a daze all day. When she would get outside, she wandered off in any direction. She would go up to any passing stranger and follow him or her just like she followed us.

One day she wandered off when we weren’t looking. We searched all over our neighborhood. We got reports that people had seen her wandering farther and farther away towards the east. But no one knew where she had gone. About the time we had given her up as possibly having been devoured by coyotes, we got a call from the county animal services that they had her. We could have her back for a redemption price of $42.

Sylvia brought her home. Was Lucy glad to see us? No. Was she unhappy to see us? No. Were we happy to see her? Yes! Even though she still didn’t recognize us.

Sometimes, Lord, I think we are like Lucy; we get so tied up in our own troubles that we don’t even recognize You. Thank You for continuing to so freely lavish on us the riches of Your grace!

Desert Flowers

Psalm 111:2

New International Version (NIV)

² Great are the works of the Lord;
    they are pondered by all who delight in them.

This has been the driest year on record for us. We had a few sporadic excuses for rain over the last few months but not enough to make the desert blossom like it can in a rainy year. Then about three weeks ago we had a weekend of rain. It rained slowly, so almost everything soaked into the dry earth.

Two days ago I put Cleo on leash and we took an hour walk into the hills that surround our home. They’re a welcome and refreshing color of green. Once in the desert I let Cleo run where ever she wanted to. She looks for anything to chase, and those are few and many days in between this year. But she loves looking.

As we stepped out into the desert I was able to look around my feet. I counted six different flowering plants there, all small and easily overlooked like the delicate purple filaree. Already the little lances, that we called “clocks” as kids, were pointing skyward. I know it’s an unwelcome import, but it is still a tiny breath of color in the desolate desert.

A little further on is the tall, slender plant with trumpet shaped yellow flowers that some locals call desert wild tobacco plant. It is one of the few plants that seem capable of flowering all through the hottest, driest part of the year. Another is what we call the desert buckwheat which has pleasant bundles of tiny white flowers edged in pink.

Further along the usually dead looking brittle bush was now very showy with hundreds of large daisy like blossoms. As you look closely at these, some plants have gray, almost silver leaves and blossoms of bright yellow with yellow centers; others have more greenish leaves with the same bright yellow blossoms, only their centers are black.

Suddenly in an area covered with dry, dead grass, I came across the delightfully and humorously named blue dicks. They’re a small lily with dark blue flowers that become pinkish as they grow older. These are special because they don’t grow some years. And then up against the rocks I spied peachy-yellow sticky monkey flowers. Try to pick them, and you’ll see where it got the sticky part of its name.

On El Niño years, the hills can be a riot of colors. This year we have to look closely for any flowers. By the time we got back home, we had counted 22 different flowers.

Thank You, Lord, that even here in the harsh desert You nurture beauty to delight us. In the same way nurture our souls in this soul desert of numbing materialism.

Filaree

Wild Tobacco

Desert Buckwheat

Gray Brittle Bush

Green Brittle Bush 

Blue Dick

Yellow Sticky Monkey Flower

Coyotes

Psalm 136:25

Good News Translation (GNT)

He gives food to every living creature;
    his love is eternal.

Sauron was our last cat. The kids named him after J. R. R. Tolkien’s "Dark Lord of Mordor", from The Lord of the Rings series, because he was pitch black and had a feisty attitude towards the world. He was never a lap cat but did his best to keep all of us serving him faithfully. We weren’t enough subjects for him, however. He would leave home for weeks at a time, and we would not see him at all. With a cat door in the back of the house, he came and went as he pleased. About seven years into his dominion in our home, I happened to talk about him to Debbie who was on the same committee I was on. She lived about 3 blocks away from us. She had been feeding a cat that answered to the same description as Sauron, including its collar. Sure enough, he had that family under his sway as well. He would be around there for several weeks and then disappear for weeks. Sometimes he would be at neither of our homes for weeks at a time.

He had a love-hate relation with our dogs. When Brenna, our half malamute, came to live with us, he disappeared. She was enough to scare anyone. Unlike most dogs, she would stare you down with her bright blue eyes set in a black face. But after almost a year, Sauron walked in and reassumed regal dominion over our home.

One time during Brenna’s stay when neither Debbie nor I had seen him for several months, I saw Sauron about a block down the street. He came over and rubbed against my leg. He was very thin and emaciated. Two inches of naked bone stuck out the end of his tail. I picked him up and carried him home. He stuck around for a couple weeks, regained a bit of weight, and disappeared. About two months later he moved back in. His tail was completely healed and shorter. He was fat and sleek and showed evidence that he had life under control. He lived with us on and off until he was about 11 years old. Then he disappeared forever.

We had had several other cats before Sauron, none of whom survived even a year. We placed the blame of their disappearance and Sauron’s wounded tail squarely at the feet of the coyotes that police our street every night of the year. The coyotes are wild and live in the desert hills around our home. They sometimes take cats and small dogs to help supplement their meager diet. I quit keeping cats because I just couldn’t take the emotional loss of fattening them up for the coyotes to kill.

The coyotes usually appear well fed and groomed, arrogant, and even brazen. They earn the title of being wily and shrewd. They are essential to our lives because they live on desert rodents that would quickly become a plague without them. We hear their choruses in the dusk on most evenings. So we and they also have a love-hate relationship. We have reached a compromise that I find totally satisfactory: I keep only big dogs, and they keep down the vermin.

Thank You, Lord, for feeding the coyotes that we actually enjoy seeing and hearing. 

Sabbath a Delight

1 Peter 2:2-3

Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB)

 Like newborn infants, desire the pure spiritual milk, so that you may grow by it for your salvation since you have tasted that the Lord is good.

While growing up a Seventh-day Adventist I was taught very strict Sabbath observance. Friday afternoon we all took our weekly bath—it was the only time we had hot water in the bathroom. Then we changed our beds, did extra careful pick-up of all our toys, clothes, etc. and cleaned the house until it was immaculate. We polished our shoes and pressed our Sabbath clothes, if necessary. Right at sundown we gathered for worship, which was a longer than usual worship with singing, saying memory verses, and reading from the Bible. If it was a cold evening we would have a roaring fire in the fireplace.

The standard fare for Friday night supper included homemade frosted cinnamon rolls and fruit salad with soup or some other hot dish. We spent the evening playing Bible games or reading spiritual or devotional material.

Sabbath morning we all walked to church where we had Sabbath school and then a preaching service. We always sat on the front row because “Grampa” was hard of hearing, and there was no public address system. Upon leaving church we would race home as fast as we could while the grown-ups stood around talking. Since the house was locked and neither my brother nor I had a key, we would pick the lock or manipulate a window to get in. I think we had figured out about 8 different ways to get into our house when it was locked.

After dinner began the long, long wait until sunset. Usually Dad would take us for a hike up the adjacent mountain. We would pick a wealth of wild flowers in the spring time, but we couldn’t climb trees.. On rather rare occasions we would go down to the ocean. We could take our shoes off and wade in the water, but we were not supposed to get in any deeper than our ankles. We would find rock pools and prick our fingers on the sea urchins, stuff a finger into a sea anemone and let it close around the finger, or try to catch fish or an octopus with our hands. 

We couldn’t swim or ride a bicycle. We couldn’t play any ball game. We would sometimes twist the cowboys and Indians game into an Israelite and Philistine game; then we could be rowdy, but not loud enough to arouse the grown-ups. We certainly were not allowed to listen to the radio, and there was no TV. We couldn’t read secular stories or books nor listen to secular music. We couldn’t take pictures. Rainy days were, of course, the worst since we couldn’t play Monopoly or with our Tinker toys or Erector set. And so the list of restrictions went on and on.

Any time we would ask, “Why can’t we play ball or do something fun?” the stock answer was to quote Isaiah 58:13:  “If thou turn away thy foot from the sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy day; and call the sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord, honourable; and shalt honour him, not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking thine own words: …” Notice that it states twice the restriction against doing our “pleasure.”

For years I pondered over the restriction from doing something pleasurable and still calling the Sabbath a delight. When I was about 30 I bought a copy of The Jerusalem Bible. I read it with interest. Eventually I reached Isaiah 58:13 which read “If you refrain from trampling the sabbath and doing business on the holy day, if you call the sabbath ‘Delightful’, and the day sacred to Yahweh ‘Honourable’, if you honour it by abstaining from travel, from doing business and from gossip, …” I pulled down my Young’s Analytical Concordance. Sure enough! The Hebrew word for pleasure in the KJV was at times translated business elsewhere in the KJV of the Bible. Of course, the business restriction fits in with the Sabbath commandment, whereas pleasure plainly just doesn’t fit. 

Christ summed up the whole thing very succinctly when he said, “The sabbath was made for man and not man for the sabbath” (Mark 2:27). Indeed, the “pure spiritual milk” from God’s Word does not cheat us out of getting the full rest, delight, and joy that comes from keeping the Sabbath.

Lord, You’ve given us a marvelous gift in the Sabbath, a gift of joy, relaxation, and healing. Thank You very much!