Through a Series of Fortunate Events :)

      Sometimes life is a mystery :)
      Through a series of fortunate (as opposed to unfortunate) events, we ended up at a church this morning - a church we'd never  heard of really until last night.    The church, Christ Church in Bartlett,Tennessee, proved to be a blessing.   The way we got there proved to be intriguing and still is to us.
     About a week and a half ago, my husband asked me to cut back on spending because we  have had some extra expenses this month.
    We've been married for 27 years and he's asked me to do that before. And I have... I cut back on groceries but not on books... (Sad but true...)   Browsing at book stores is sort of my therapy and Phil, wonderful guy  that he is, has never complained about this expensive hobby of  mine.
   Two days after he asked me to watch my spending, I had a day of one frustration after another and really, really wanted to go to Lifeway for some "book-buying therapy".  But for once in our married life, I kept hearing Phil's reasonable request in the back of my mind.  So, after running my legit errands, I went home.
    Still frustrated, I decided to browse Lifeway's website to see if there were any new biographies out.  I never browse the internet for books in general, only when I have a specific title in mind.  However, this day was different.
  I ran across a newly released biography, The Insanity of God byNik Ripken,which looked interesting to me.  However, still mindful of Phil's caution about our finances and very much aware that in another week we would be at a hotel sharing the same parking lot as a LIfeway store in Tennessee- where I would undoubtedly splurge - I didn't get the book.
    The next day,I was conflicted -  still wanting the  book but  still feeling like I should at least try to be good for a bit longer ;)
     Then it  hit me that I could call Phil (at work!) and ask if it was okay to get this book - that way I could have my cake and eat  it too!  Shop without guilt!
     The poor man was most definitely surprised.  He made me repeat my request twice - clearly he hasn't heard something like that from me very often - and then, still puzzled (like: there's a trick here somewhere, right???), told me that was fine, no problem.
     I went to the store - he didn't need to tell me twice that it was okay!  But it wasn't in the biography section.  Finally I asked the manager, he looked it up, and said it was in the Christian Living section.  This may not seem significant but to me it was - I never browse on the internet for new books in general - but this time I had.  And once in the store, I almost never browse through the Christian Living Section of the store.  I always hit the biographies, the fiction, and the study Bible section.  So if I had just followed my normal routine, I would never have found Ripken's book.
     Another unusual thing.    Phil has worked at Landers for 10 years and  they have sent him to Memphis a bunch of times for training.  They send mechanics often, sometimes twice a month or even more.   This is the first time, however, that PHil has had a two-day school on Thurs. and Fri. and then another two-day school on Mon. and Tues.  IN the past decade, it's just never happened that way before.
     When we saw his schedule back in June, we immediately decided to stay over for the weekend and at that point felt we would go to Bellevue Baptist, which we knew was not far from our hotel.        As Sunday drew closer, however, we began to wonder if Phil would  be able to go to church at all because of back pain - maybe he would literally just have to rest all weekend so he could finish his schools and get us back home to Little Rock.
   Also, we felt a little intimidated at trying to navigate a big church like Bellevue.   But that was still the plan.
   Last night, as I was reading, I recalled that I had seen an ad at the back of Ripken's book, giving  a website where the reader could find other stories similar to the ones in his book.  About 9 p.m., I   found the web address: www.nikripken.com.  I read some of the blogs on that page and then clicked on "resources" thinking it would lead me to a list of books.  Instead, it listed some organizations.  I had seen a similar "Resource"page in the back of his book but hadn't paid attention to it.  Now, my eyes went to the organizations that I knew:  IMB,  Open Doors, Elam MInistries.  All great ministries.
   At the top of the list, I saw three churches, two of which just had web addresses, one of which had a web address and also the name of the city and state:  Christ Church, Bartlett, Tn.    As  I looked at that, I suddenly thought, "Wait a minute!  Isn't Phil's school in Bartlett???  His school is just a couple of miles away from here! So Bartlett has to be close!"
    I went to the church's website and it sounded really good.   Phil liked it also.  I looked for directions on mapquest and it said the church was about 15 min. away from here.  We didn't have a printer so I tried to write down directions (leaving out one vital street name as it turned out...) and then, at 10 p.m. last night we headed out to make a practice run to the church.  Thirty minutes later, we were so lost that we prayed (imagine that) and then stopped at a convenience store (which had  a little window like a bank's with bars on it to protect the clerk - not good) and got directions.  We finally found the church, figured out the most  direct way to get to Christ church and returned to the hotel where Phil groaned and stretched his back and took some Aleve.  (If we hadn't made a practice run last night, we'd never have found it in time this morning).
    I went to bed thinking, "Okay. God must have some reason for us to be here on a weekend, for us to know about this church, and for us to have found it.  I really think He wants us to worship there but with Phil's back pain, I don't think it's going to happen."  So  I went to sleep reminding God that He would have to work out the details if we were going to make it to Christ Church. (Even our alarm clock, which has been working just fine, wouldn't allow us to set the alarm for this morning. Phil finally gave up on it and then I tried and finally, between the two of us, we got the alarm set for the right time)
   We made it to worship at 9:30 and God spoke to us through the sermon so we decided to stay for the Bible class at 11, which was just as good as the worship time.  IN between the two services, a pastor came over to talk to us and I mentioned finding the name of the church in the back of the book I was reading.  He looked a bit surprised but didn't comment on what I'd said; just welcomed us to the church.
    Towards the end of the Bible class, the pastor pointed us out, said we were from Arkansas, in Memphis for a short trip, and that we'd learned about them from a book and that he'd really like to know the title of it!!!! :)
    So we showed several people the book but no one was familiar with it. No one.   We talked a little bit more and came up with a tenuous possible link between the church and the book but nothing concrete.
    And that's where we are:  through a series of fortunate events,we ended up in a church where we met some sweet people, felt totally at home, sat through two hours of Bible study that blessed both of us and spoke directly to our needs, and then we let the people know that their church is listed in the back of a newly released biography:)
    It seems to us that God really went to some trouble to get us to that church. And while we received a blessing there, I feel sure there are other churches where we could have received a blessing as well.  I hope so anyway!
    So I guess, like Paul Harvey, this is the point where I should say:  And now for the rest of the story!  Only, unlike Paul, I don't have it to give!   But someday in Heaven, I think I'll hear it.
    Meanwhile, it's just nice to know that God is still in the business of orchestrating events in our lives and that He is indeed in the small stuff as well as the large. If  nothing else, it's nice to know that He watches over us while we are away from home, even going so far as to direct our steps to church in an unknown city.
    Maybe I should try to be "good" more often :)
 
 
 

With Dmitry's Example before Us...

     Sometimes the inexplicable happens.
     The "this-wasn't-supposed-to-happen" does.
      Right now I am in a hotel room, two and a half hours away from home. My husband is sitting in an all-day training session about a mile away,wearing a back brace (that we bought last night) and relying on Aleve (which we bought last night)  to help him make it through the day.  This morning, as I pulled his sock onto his right foot, he joked that this hadn't been done for him in 50 years. When I helped him with his shoe, he joked that "he could get used to this."  But I know he just wants to quit hurting and the humor was his way of handling a difficult situation.
      This started Wed. evening, right before we left for a 4 day workshop that we had decided to turn into a mini-vacation.   His company will pay for Thursday night and for Monday night in the hotel.  So we added 4 nights on our own tab and decided we would relax in the evenings and perhaps do a bit of sight-seeing over the weekend.
      By last night, we had scaled our plans back considerably.  After our second night of intermittent sleep, this morning I broached the possibility of finding a clinic.   He told me this has happened  before and it will get better. But I don't ever remember helping him with his socks before.
      When I first realized he was in trouble and that it wasn't going away, I did what I always do: I asked friends to pray.
     And I know people are praying, for which I am grateful.
     I'm also thinking that maybe this is why God is able to teach us through all this.
     When we left home, in the providence of God, I was about 3/4ths of the way through a book called, The Insanity of God by Nik Ripken.   It is an interesting book and I highly recommend it.  The author writes about serving in Somali land around the time of the Black Hawk Down event.  Somalia was in chaos at that time,  people were starving in record numbers, and evil was visible on a scale that Ripken had never encountered before.  They ministered among some of the worst conditions the world had ever seen, gave it their all, and then.... their sixteen year old son died.
      Yes.  They buried part of their heart in Africa literally, before returning home, spiritually battered and broken.
     It's just not supposed to happen like this,is it?
     Go to one of the worst places on the planet and then, after years of sacrificial living, lose one of your children????  What kind of a God would allow that????
     So the Ripkens licked their wounds, tried to recoup, and wondered.
     Had they even accomplished anything in Somali land?
     On one level, they had accomplished much.  They had fed tens of thousands of people daily and that is no small thing.
    On another level - the most important one - they had accomplished either not much or maybe nothing. They had not shared the Gospel.     How do you witness to people when the four believers you just had communion with are assassinated one morning, each taken out on their way to work by their own individual assassin - all killed at the same time during an obviously coordinated attack?
    So?  What about non-believers???   Do you tell them about Jesus and then watch them get killed before they even come to faith?  In places like Somalia, that is a real possibility.  What do you do???
    In an ironic twist, as the Ripkens were preparing to bury their beloved son in Kenya, their home base at that time, a Somalian co-worker, a devout Muslim, walked and hitchhiked hundreds of miles in a five day period simply to be with them for the funeral.  When Nik opened the door, to his astonishment, there was his co-laborer and sweet friend who simply said, "I have come to bury our son."  The man was worn out, just wearing the clothes on his back, but he had made it  in time for the funeral.  The Ripkens were so touched that they had him sit between them at the funeral.
    Afterwards, when they were back in Somalia  - Nik to wrap things up there before heading to the states - this  wonderful Muslim man told the other office workers that there was something he did not understand about the funeral.  The people at the funeral were sad, which he got, of course.  But they were also able to rejoice in the certainty of where the boy was now living. They knew where the boy had gone,they knew he was in Heaven.
    This amazing man asked Nik point blank,  in front of all his other Muslim co-workers,  how it was that Christians know where their deceased go and yet they have not shared this news with their Muslim friends???
    Here was an open door to sharing the Gospel.... only it came just as the Ripkens were having to pull out of the country permanently.   (They were having to leave because of circumstances within the country which made their organization no longer viable).
   It's just not supposed to happen like that!!!
   So the Ripkens wrestled with deep questions.  Can you take the Gospel to hostile places like Somalia, places where there is basically no law and no freedom?     Can faith even survive in a place like that, where you take communion one day (in secret) and a few days later you are picked off by carefully staged assassins?   And is there more than a touch of insanity in God's command to go into all the world to make disciples, all the world including places like Somali land????
    In order to find answers to their questions, the Ripkens decided to systematically talk to believers from countries where persecution had been rife.  They came up with a list of over 40 countries and decided to interview people from as many of those  countries as possible.   Their plan was to try first of all to visit each  and every country and do the interviews on location if possible. However, if they couldn't gain  access into the country, then the fallback plan was to  interview people who had moved out of country.
    They started with the former USSR  - entering Russia not too long after the collapse of communism.  And that's really where the book got my complete and total attention.  They got to interview a man named Dmitry and I wish I could tell you his whole story but I couldn't do justice to it.  However, I promise that if you get the book and read his story as well as the others, you will be blessed.
    The main thing that I got from Dmtry's testimony was this: two things enabled him to keep his faith during 17 years of imprisonment.  Okay.  Seventeen years??  Of imprisonment??  That got my attention!
     What were these two faith-strengthening things?
      The first was a practice Dmitry learned as a little child.  His father taught him to get up at dawn, stand at attention, face the East, and sing a heart song of love directly to God.  In prison, he continued to do that every morning - even though it was  NOT popular with his prison mates.  And he believed that helped him keep his faith alive  in the midst of terrible trials.  Ya reckon???
     The other thing was that whenever he found a bit of paper and some charcoal or a pencil stub, he would write down every Scripture verse, every Bible story,and every hymn that he could remember.  Then he would place that piece of paper on top of a  concrete column in his cell, the highest place he could reach, as an offering to God.  He would leave it there until the guards found it, at which time he would be beaten.  But the next time he found a piece of paper, he would do the same thing again. Writing down verses and hymns, placing them on top of that column, and then standing back respectfully, his offering of praise and sacrifice there for His Lord and King.
      Wow!  Okay!  I got that!  Stand at attention first thing in the morning, face the rising sun, and sing directly to my King and Savior.  So I tried that yesterday morning. To my surprise, I couldn't sing my favorite hymns from memory.I could only sing snatches of them.   Hmmm...
       Guess what?? Yesterday I went to Lifeway Christian book store and bought a 13.00 hymnal. This morning I was standing at the window, facing the sun,singing a hymn.  (I don't know if God is insane but I kinda hope He's tune deaf... JK).
      Which leads to the next thing.  Wherever I go, I have my Bible and some index cards.  Thankfully, I don't have to grub around in the dirt when the guards aren't looking, to try to find a bit of charcoal and a remnant of a piece of paper.   I have a habit of  writing  out verses on these cards from time to time, thinking I  will memorize the passages later. Sometimes I do get around to memorizing them but I have to admit that I've written out far  more verses than I've ever committed to memory.  Still, just writing them out has often proven to be a blessing. Now, I plan to make that part of my daily routine as well.
      So what about a vacation-turned into something that is not a vacation?
      What about pain when we expected pleasure?  Tension-filled days, sleepless nights, and worry when everyone had told us (and we had agreed!) that we needed a break!
      Well,clearly, this is not the break we had in mind /=       But after reading about Dmitry and his 17 years in prison, I don't think we'll be complaining any time soon!  Would you??

      Instead, we'll be standing at the window (it doesn't hurt so much when Phil stands still...ha!), singing off-key:   "Blessed be the name of the Lord..."
       And  we'll be writing down some lyrics or verses from memory which means we'll be intentionally memorizing the whole lyrics to our favorite hymns, God helping us.
      With Dmitry's example before us, how could we do otherwise?
       Seriously????

Always a Fourth Man...

     Sometimes God puts us on a platform.
     Paul wrote:  "It seems to me that God has put us who bear his Message on stage in a theater in which no one wants to buy a ticket.  We're something that everyone stands around and stares at, like an accident in the street.  We're the Messiah's misfits.  You might be sure of yourselves but we live in the midst of frailties and uncertainties..."  The Message, I Corinthians 4:9-10
    Paul goes on to delineate situations that sound like something out of a fiction novel where the hero repeatedly gets shot, beaten up, and run over only to emerge victorious.  Only Paul got his head cut off.  Similar to what happened to John the Baptist.
   I see Christians, people who love the Lord, "captive Christians" according to George Barna - I see them frequently standing on platforms while people gawk and stare, commiserate with and/or villify, honor and at the same time question.  They must have done something wrong or God wouldn't have allowed....
  Sometimes God puts us on a platform.
  Paul, apparently, completed most of his earthly assignment feeling like a sideshow in a circus, except for the times when he was groveling on the ground in pain, which probably didn't seem much like a circus atmosphere to him at those times. Basically he was willing to be a spectacle for God, to do his best out of devotion to God and then to stand in the arena while lions circled around him and ticket holders ate their popcorn and watched to see who would win, so to speak.  (Sometimes from an earthly perspective, the lions win, just in case you wondered.)
  Sometimes God puts us on a platform.
  Rick and Kay Warren are on one right now.
  I could name others, lesser known.
  Platforms come in all shapes and sizes.
  Motorized wheel chairs early in life.
  The sudden end of a dream.
  The specter of financial ruin.
  Grown kids from good families who go down the wrong path.
  Missionaries who bury a bright, loving  child on the mission field.
  There are others...
  Maybe He didn't send the trouble that we face but He allows it.  And then there we are, under the spotlight, standing for all our friends and foes to see, afflicted, perplexed, perhaps even persecuted, maybe even struck down. (See II Cor. 4)
  So why does God allow some of His most precious followers to become spectacles?
  Many times, we don't know, we can't figure it out.
  So we just have to take God's word for it.
  "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing greatness of the power may be of God and not from ourselves...  Concerning this I entreated the Lord three times that it might depart from me.  And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.' "    II Cor. 4:7;  12:8-9.
   And then, there's also this....
 

 Once upon a time, God put His only begotten Son...  on a platform....     And He's been standing on multiple platforms ever since. In Africa, Europe, Asia, South America, North America... You get the picture...

How do I know this?

Because in Hebrews 13:5, God promised that He would never leave us and He would never desert us.  and when He promises something, He makes good on it.

So when you see Christians suddenly thrust into the limelight, whether it's in the U.S. or Nigeria  (now there's a place for platforms to abound!)  - when you see God's children standing in the arena of inexplicable suffering, placed on a platform for all to gawk at, remember that there is always a "fourth man" in the fire of affliction. (See Daniel 3)

And He is able to bring His kids out of the fire, in the final analysis, without even the faintest smell of smoke clinging to them.

Fiery platform?

A problem for us, but not for God.

While we look, not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are unseen... (II Cor. 4:18)

                                

             

From One Pitiful Pot to Another ;)

       When I was a college student,  pop psychology books were extremely popular; my mom and I both read them.   Somewhere along the line, she garnered this bit of information:  when a person loses  their keys, it indicates a negative attitude toward the home and the authority the home represents.  From that time on, whenever I had to hunt for my keys, she either asked me questions to try to determine why I was unhappy with our home life or, if she was having a bad day, she lit into me for having a bad attitude and not appreciating the home she was providing for me.  After a particularly stormy session over lost keys, I would make every effort to keep up with my keys but eventually, history would repeat itself...
       When I got married, I lost my house keys and  my husband immediately went out and bought a key holder and nailed it to the wall by the carport door so that every time I went in or out, I could hang my keys there or grab them as needed.  After that, I didn't lose my keys anymore...

        Before you become critical of my mom for jumping to a wrong conclusion (after listening to experts, no less...), you might consider this. I once heard a story about a woman, a devout Christian, who had suffered much in Europe during WWII.  Later, many years after the war, she was at a meeting where she had the opportunity to visit with an American woman. She told the American that people in the U.S. didn't really understand suffering the way Europeans, who had lived through the war, did. Only, as it turned out, the American woman she was instructing, well, that woman  happened to be Marj Saint.  Marj was a widow with young

children at the time -  her  husband, Nate Saint, having been speared to death in Ecuador in 1956 while trying to share the Gospel with an unreached people group.  When the European lady realized who she was talking to, she was immediately contrite and asked forgiveness for jumping to an erroneous conclusion. Again, the European woman had some facts at her finger tips and they were real... Europeans did suffer more deprivation and violence during the war years than Americans did.  The problem was: she just didn't have all the facts.
      And then there's... um... me.
      Just the other day I got really upset with our son for leaving something valuable in his car. I ran a litany of statements through my mind, none of which were good or commendable.  I wondered how he could be so irresponsible (having, apparently, forgotten the many times I misplaced my house keys when I was his age). When he came home and I confronted him with his forgetfulness, he simply said, "Mom, I knew I left that in the car. My car looks like garbage. All the door handles are broken except for one and I always keep the one good door locked...   Why would anyone want to go through my car looking for something valuable?"
      Well, I still wish he wouldn't leave valuable things in  his car but... I realized that A) he had a point and B) I had misjudged the situation. I thought that, like me, he simply got out of his car and forgot to bring his GPS inside with him.    I was wrong.  (Even though, to some extent, I still think I'm right! :)
      I guess my point is that we can see and hear things and decide that A) we have all the facts - when in reality we may have only  a few facts or even skewered facts  and B) we are able to judge, not only the little that we observe, but also the thoughts and intents of the heart, the things that we don't and can't see.
     While it is true that we are to discern right actions from wrong ones,especially when it comes to our own lives,  we have to realize that God is the only one who has all the facts and He is also the only one who can see into the hearts of others, He is the only one who is qualified to judge motives.
    One final example: a woman got into an elevator. She was nicely dressed and appeared confident as she stepped on a man's foot and ground her spiked heel into the toe of his shoe. She moved her foot but not quick enough for him plus she didn't say anything to him.   He was very angry until, as they got off the elevator, he realized she was blind.
    Really, the older I get, the more I think we are all blind to some extent.
    Only God has 20/20 heart vision and, really, when it comes down to it, only He has all the facts in any given situation. (If you don't believe that, read varying accounts of the same news event or observe a courtroom trial sometime).   I think that is why the Bible says that we are to be diligent to examine our own hearts and equally diligent to  leave the judging of others to Him.  If we set ourselves up as ones who can judge the thoughts and intents of of others (as I have done many times!), we are basically usurping His rightful place. And I don't know about you, but personally, I have come to believe that that's a dangerous place to be.
     "So speak and so act, as those who are to be judged by the law of liberty.  For judgement will be merciless to one who has shown no mercy; mercy triumphs over judgement."  James 2:12 - 13  Emphasis is mine.
   
   

     
   
     

Please Pray

      Tonight was maybe an end of an era; certainly the end of some wonderful memories dating back to 1928.
      Willow Springs Water Park closed tonight and won't be opening their doors again.
       Meanwhile, a young girl fights for her life in a nearby hospital, suffering from Parasitic Meningitis.
       The two things are inextricably linked and yet there is no concrete proof that they are.
       These are the facts as I know them.
       Three summers ago, a young boy swam at several places - he had gone swimming several times the last week of his life in private outdoor pools.  He also went swimming at Willow Springs  and went into a coma the next and died several days later of a rare form of Meningitis.  The incubation period varies but it usually takes 3 days.
     The parasite that causes this exists everywhere in Southern watering places. It even exists in tap water that is warm. (You can get it  from doing a sinus rinse with water that hasn't been boiled or isn't distilled although that is very rare - still, it is possible).    Millions are exposed to it every summer in the Southern states as people do water sports, swim, go tubing, etc. This amoeba is present in every lake,  creek, stream, and pond in warm weather.  It is also in pools that are not well-chlorinated. Basically it's everywhere in the summer where people gather to play outdoors in the water.
   However, almost no one contracts this form of Meningitis and medical science has no idea why some people do while most people - the vast majority - do not.
       You can swallow contaminated water and that's fine - you can't get this form of  Meningitis from drinking contaminated water.  But if you are one of the few who is susceptible to this amoeba, if you breathe in water through your nose, the amoeba can go straight to your brain. When that happens, it is almost always fatal.
     David and Lou Ann have seen this Water Park as a ministry, an opportunity to serve others and provide a fun place for families to gather, picnic, and swim.  David first started working at this place when he was twelve-years-old.   He and Lou Ann are devastated that another 12-year-old is fighting for her life now after swimming at the park.
    But this is not the only place where the girl went swimming in the days leading up to her illness. Like the child 3 years ago, this child had also been swimming in more than one place before she got sick.
    This time, as three years ago, the Park's water tested out extremely well, better than most water parks in Arkansas. This time in fact, they were told the water was consistent with drinking water, it is that clean. I know they use several forms of chlorine and they have added equipment to keep the water cooler than lakes, ponds, streams are in the summer. Those are the ways to fight this amoeba - lots of chlorine and cooler than normal water temps and David and Lou Ann have been careful to do all of that.
    The Park was closed because of statistics.  When the first  child got this form of Meningitis three years ago, there was a 1 in 1200 chance that it came from Willow Springs. When a second child got it recently, the percentage dropped to 1 in 700 probability.  (There is still a 400 % greater chance that someone would drown at the water park than that they would contract Meningitis.)  That's as low a percentage as the CDC allows for water parks.
   Because Willow Springs is fed by a lake and because they have slides which means there is a greater chance that water can go up someone's nose as they slide into the pool than if they were just tubing or boating, the CDC automatically closes a lake-fed water park if there is two instances of this disease within a certain number of years.
   The fact that the water tested out to be extremely clean and well-chlorinated and that thousands (literally) of people swim at this park and have for decades and  never have a problem doesn't affect CDC policy on this issue.
   It is always a tragedy when a child gets seriously ill.  Always.
  David and Lou Ann love children and have worked for about 8 years to provide a safe, affordable, family-friendly environment for the people in this area.  Their own grandchildren regularly play in the water and have from the time they were babies.   Had they thought for one minute that the water might be a serious source of Meningitis, they would never have operated it.  They certainly never would have put their own grandchildren in the water or allowed anyone else's in it day after day.
   They are praying for the little girl and are devastated at the thought that there is even a 1 in 700 chance that the child might have gotten sick from playing at Willow Springs.  And even now, as they abruptly lose the Water Park, their ministry, and the dream that the park has represented for so many decades for David, their thoughts are with the child in the hospital and her family.
   In response to questions about how they are taking this, their response is simple:
   We trust God and even though we can't see it now at all, we believe He will eventually bring something good out of this.  This wasn't said glibly or easily but they were still able to say it, ala Romans 8:28.
   Please pray for the young girl and her family.
   And please pray for the Ratliffs as well.
 
   
 
     

High Time to Say So...

     I don't know how to express this but I'm going to try.
     When I was in my twenties, a young single woman, an inexperienced teacher playing catch-up all the time with tons of paperwork and new learning experiences, I somehow managed to be a discussion leader with the BSF Women's evening class in  Little Rock for two years.  I don't think I ever did anything well and many, many times I thought about resigning from BSF leadership.
     Mostly on Saturday mornings when I had to get up early for leader's meeting. I think we started about 6:30 or 7:00 at that time - I know I had to get up earlier for leaders' meeting than I did for work and I literally hated being up before dawn on my "day off".
     At that time, in addition to my heavy work load, our family was going through several  traumatic events simultaneously and often I just felt like I couldn't cope.   Then Friday night would roll around and I would find myself doing homiletics for Saturday morning, thinking, "This is crazy!  It's the weekend and I'm still doing paper work!"  And then there was the, "I really don't want to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning!!!" mantra running through my mind as I tried to fall asleep. It seemed to me that I was always tired.
    During my second year as a discussion leader, I don't think there was a single early morning drive where I didn't tell the Lord out loud as I drove to the meeting that I was going to quit that day!  Many times I would ask Him to give me the words and the courage to tell Lou that I was done,  that I just couldn't do it anymore, that  it was too much.  And yet something funny happened:  every single time as I was driving home from the meeting, I would find myself thanking God and praising Him for keeping me in the study, for not letting me resign.  Why? I can't explain it; but somehow those early morning trysts with God and with His precious saints always began by seeming burdensome and always ended by giving me renewed hope and courage to face the coming the week.
   As I look back, however, I realize that there was something major I didn't understand at that time, couldn't have known at that time.
  Basically I didn't realize that thirty years later, on more than one occasion,  a memory would come back to me in spades. A memory of about 30 women, young, middle-aged, and older :), gathering early on Sat. morning at a local church to sing a couple of hymns from a booklet and then to kneel and pray over various requests.  After praying for about 30 minutes, we would go  over the Bible study  material for that week and the study was invaluable.  I understood that.  What  I didn't realize was that it would be the corporate prayer time that would come back to me decades later, bringing sweet tears to my eyes and warm memories to touch my heart.
    During those prayer times, I mostly  remember being  afraid to open my mouth (a new and much-needed experience for me!)  because I understood -really deep down knew - that  I was in the presence of  godly women who loved their Abba in a way that I had yet to learn.  When I was in their presence, I felt I had "novice" written all over me and so  I wasn't about to open my mouth and expose my ignorance!  And that's how I came to spend Saturday after Saturday, kneeling, silently praying, listening.
    And learning.
    I learned by watching their examples.
    I learned by listening to their heartfelt petitions for children, spouses, neighbors, group members, and friends.
    I heard women whose lives were certainly not easy, mount up to the throne of God, hurting yet still confident, sometimes perplexed but not despairing, sometimes struck down but never destroyed.
    And today as I sit here at the keyboard with these precious memories washing over me yet once more, I am deeply aware of how much I owe them, of how I would never trade anything for those two short years of early Saturday prayer times, on my knees in the company of  some of God's true saints.
     I owe those ladies so much.
     And it's high time I said so.
     How I wish I could pass the torch on to younger women the way they did to me.
     How I look forward to kneeling around the throne with them again... in Heaven... where it will all be prayer and praise!
 

World Changers and Willow Springs

           Tonight I went to Willow Springs to do some water aerobics and when I got there, my heart sort of sank. As soon as I drove onto the parking lot, I saw not one bus but about six and I thought, "Wow! That's a lot of kids!"  Then, while I was trying to decide where to park, I noticed that the buses were from various churches that I'd never heard of.  On closer inspection, I realized that the buses were, not just from out of town, but from out of state.  As Alice would say, things got curious-er and curious-er.
           When I got in the pool, even though there were about 140 young people in the water, there was more than enough  free space to swim and exercise and in fact, at first, I wondered where all the kids were.  I could see young people splashing down the water slide and doing their best to push each other off the Willow Wipe Out but it didn't seem like that many kids to me.  Then I heard a huge shout and saw that a bunch of guys were playing water volleyball hard and fast, egging each other on and having a ton of fun, just like the kids on the Willow Wipe Out and the water slide were.
            That's not unusual to see kids having fun at the park but something still struck me as odd.  Then I realized what it was.  There was not one sour face in the bunch.  While I walked around the pool, exercising my joints, I never saw an adult having to take a kid aside and talk to them about their attitude.  I never heard one word of profanity and with that many kids, I think that's pretty remarkable. And I never saw a life guard having to get onto anyone.
         So I started watching the kids and I noticed something else, every single girl was either wearing a one piece suit or she had a colored tee-shirt and running shorts on over her bathing suit.  And they were beautiful young women, every one of them.  Not only were they beautiful, but they had something else, that hard to define spark of something that I've seen in Katie Davis's pictures.  I realized that I was looking at radiant joy, personality plus, basically seeing young ladies who were fun-loving, competitive, and sure of themselves.
       And yet there was still something more.  Something that I saw reflected in all the young people, both guys and girls.  Joy, yes.  Wholesomeness, yes.  Fun-loving, yes.   Good natured, yes.  But there was still something else.
      And as I thought about it, I realized  what it was.
      These kids are part of World Changers and that is  their focus - changing the world and making it a better place. Instead of self-consciously working to draw attention to themselves, they seemed almost totally unaware of how they looked or how they were coming across.  I didn't see the typical things such as two girls angling away from the group at large, darting unhappy looks at some other girls and saying things like, "I just hate the way they act so stuck up all the time ..."   I didn't hear guys exchanging heated insults as the game became really competitive.  I didn't hear one young person whining to an adult about how they were bored, hungry, ticked off,  and/or ready to go home.  I didn't hear one person complaining about something that wasn't "fair" and I didn't see any prima donas in that group. Just a bunch of young people having a great time, largely because their focus is simply not on themselves.
      Instead their focus is on Jesus first. And on helping others second.
      And if they weren't happy tonight, they sure fooled me.
      These young people spend their days doing things to help the elderly, such as painting houses, doing yard work, etc.  They also are ready to teach the Bible and pray for those who are in need.  They spend their days working hard, selflessly, giving to others in the name of Jesus.
      And at the end of the day, they are ready to play and play hard but still mindful of the fact that they are Jesus' kids and it's all about Him.  Their dress, their speech, their fair-minded competitiveness, and their joyful obedience spoke volumes to me about who these kids are and what they stand for.
     But even beyond that, it convinced me that our culture has sold our young people a bill of goods and it's not the young people's fault. We've taught them that to be happy, the spotlight has to be on them.   That to be happy they have to dress provocatively and do whatever else is necessary to get others to notice them and/or to be "cool".  Basically we've taught them, through the media primarily, that life is all about them and not about others.  And it's small wonder that there is so much teen-age angst and so much drama associated with young people.  Young people were never meant to bear that kind of pressure.
      I'm really sorry that we've managed to sell some of this younger generation a bill of goods.
     But I'm even more  thankful - and so  impressed - to see a large group of young people who just aren't buying it and who have found the real path to joy.
      Jesus first.
      Others second.
      Yourself last.
      These kids will indeed change the world.