Waiting & Watching

The story goes that there was a dude with some kids.  He would be at work, as dudes often are, but when it came time for him to come home from work, his kids would always be excited.  They would be waiting for him to come home, mostly for supper-eating purposes, I imagine.  Anyhow, one of his children, his little daughter, would stand at the front window.  She wasn't just waiting for him, she was watching.

Cue the tears.  I've heard this man tell this story enough times that I can't cue the tears, but it's a nice story and I hope you've been emotionally touched in a way I haven't been in the past ten years or so.

But the story brings to mind (obviously, as is the point) that we are not just to wait for the Lord's return, but also we ought to watch for Him.  Any one of us could think of a number of verses that echo such a sentiment.

But I'd like to pose another story.  It's about a girl, about my age, who works at a day care.  And about how at that daycare there started a young child, 2ish years of age, who really loved his mom.  Which is a good thing for a child to do, but it's rough when kids have never been away from their mom, and then their tossed into a daycare setting.  So this young boy (we shall call him henceforth Jay), every single day he's at the daycare, spends from 7:30 in the morning till 12:30 in the afternoon waiting for his mom to come and get him.  After all, she will be coming, he knows this for a fact.  And indeed, at 12:30, she comes to fetch him.  He was right all along--mommy loves him enough to remember to come and get him after lunch.  Heartwarming, yes?

No.  Not in the slightest.  You see, Jay doesn't just wait for his mom, he watches for his mom.  Every day, from 7:30 till 12:30, he stands with his face pressed against the window, looking for that first glimpse of her car.

Even more heartwarming?  No.  Not in the slightest.  You see, from 7:30 am to 12:30 pm Jay doesn't just wait and watch for his mother.  He SCREAMS HIS HEAD OFF because he's terrified that she's forgotten about him.  He won't play, he won't color, he won't paint, and if it's ever warm enough to go outside to play he just presses himself up against the fence in lieu of the window and screams there while waiting for his mother.

WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THAT.

Jay needs to cool his jets and realize that while he's waiting, he could be doing.  Really, he does.  And, frequently, between 7:30 and 12:30 I (being the featured girl in the story who works in sad earshot of this child) am reminded that you know what?  While I'm waiting for the Lord to return (which had better be soon, that's all I'm saying) I need to be doing as well.  Maybe it's just the Sunday School work, maybe it's reaching out to younger girls, maybe it's giving away copies of Get Lost (bless you, Dannah Gresh, for being the best), maybe it's just helping out around the house or with hobby class.  Whatever the case, let it never be said of me that I was waiting and watching for the Lord's coming at the expense of doing for His glory.

Some neighbors are easy to spot

There's that age-old question about who exactly your neighbor is.  Obviously, in the context of Luke 10, it's talking about more than just the guy who lives in the house next to you.  Well, today I'm talking about neighbors.  Specifically, the kind who live right next to me.

So, I have these neighbors. I shall call them... Wendell and Michelle.  Those aren't their real names, but I don't want to be that person who's outright gossiping about neighbors so that next time you come to visit me and we casually howdy them as they take out their trash you recognize the name and think, "THAT'S who she was talking about?" So their real names shall forever remain a mystery to my fair readership. Anyhow, I write about them because they are the least happy couple ever. Now that spring has sprung, the storm windows are off, and our house has warm breezes gusting in the windows, carrying the scent of freshly mown lawns (mown? is that how it's spelled?), sunshine, and... yelling from next door.

Now, here's the deal. I'm not foolish enough to think that anyone can coexist without disagreement (unless one of the persons is in a coma, in which case the other person still might be upset, but that's beside the point), but yelling at each other every single day? And I'm not just talking about "Well, it's YOUR turn to take out the trash!" I'm talking about ugly arguments. Trust me, I've heard both sides of their respective stories, and it's always ugly.

What I don't understand is how they can possibly have any sort of foundation in their relationship. Honestly, with what goes on over there, I don't know how they can stand to be around one another.

So if anyone thinks of it, maybe pray for my poor neighbors, Wendell and Michelle. The neighbor on the other side of their house came to talk to us one day, and both of our houses decided that when we heard them fighting, we'd be putting in extra prayer time for them, sort of like they're sandwiched by prayer. I'm sorry to report that I haven't noticed it helping, but anyhow, we do what we can, my friends. We do what we can.

Rejoice with me!

"What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it? And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbours, saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost. I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance."

Misspeaks

Last night 'round the dinner table we were remembering some particularly funny times when someone has been reading the Bible and spoke amiss. My all-time favorite was when my little sister was just learning how to read and we were reading the parable of the guy who sent his only son and she said, "This is the hair; come, let us kill him, and let us squeeze on his inheritance." And I just laughed. Nobody else remembers, but I wrote a note in my Bible, and every time I come across it I just have to laugh.

Then, of course, were the time when we'd have Bible study at our house for the neighbourhood teens, and every once in a while they'd say something funny. Like once my dad asked what "swine" were (parable of the prodigal son) and one girl said, "they're those, like, pretty white birds?" No, no, those are swans.

At Sunday School once a boy whom I've always thought of as pretty with it was asked what a "pardon" was. "A.... squirrel?" No, Lorenzo, that's not it.

Back to the dinner table. Once, when my grandma was still with us, she was at our house for breakfast and our family reading happened to be in Matthew 11. My grandma wasn't paying much attention (being 93 will do that to you), and so when it came time for her to read she didn't know where we were. So my mom, being ever helpful, started out the verse for her and pointed her in the right direction. "Woe unto thee, Mummy," she said, hoping that my grandma would pick up from there.

So my grandma repeated after her. Verbatim.

"Woe unto thee, Mummy."

We all cracked up, and my poor grandma didn't understand why we thought it was funny. Needless to say, I can't ever seem to read about Chorazin without remembering my dear grandmother saying, "Woe unto thee, Mummy."

I remember someone once mis-reading loaves and fishes as "loaves and smishes." Two words: Church. Giggles.

Bop to the top

I hate money. And I love it. I hate it because it seems to bring out the worst in people, and seems to cause undue worry (or not so undue, seeing as when people stress about money it's typically because they don't have enough). But I like that, well, it buys things. I'm sure we don't need half of the things we have, but sometimes it's just nice to have that extra purse. Disclaimer: I'm not actually sure I've ever purchased a purse. I don't like to spend money on something that feels thusly superfluous.

I just think it's interesting to read about money in the Bible. When the woman in Luke 15 lost her silver coin, she didn't shrug and say, "Well, I guess the Lord is teaching me a lesson about valuing earthly treasures," and let it be. No, she spent the time to sweep her house and find that money (I think I might too, if a tenth of my wealth suddenly got lost).

But we're not supposed to worry about money. Remember the thing about the lilies? They're clothed, and our Father in Heaven will likewise clothe us. But with a limited income, it's hard to view things that way. After all, when Peter needed tax money, he just went down to the water and got it from the mouth of the fish. When we do taxes these days, it's a little more complicated. Add to that the fact that most people pay utilities, insurance, monthly payments on their cars, mortgages, and buy food. Money like that doesn't just grow in fishes mouths.

Fine then. If a man doesn't work, neither shall he eat. But it's not just about food and raiment these days. We live in houses, we send kids to college, we put gasoline in our cars. Could we get by without those things? I guess. I mean, plenty of people live in cars or under bridges due to the whole lack-of-money thing. Plenty of other people choose to live in motor homes to avoid mortgages and utility bills.

I'm not saying it's wrong to live in a house (personally, I love my house. And my bed. And the fact that I have a closet). I'm just saying, though, that it bothers me that money is such a prevalent issue with, well, everyone. What's the most irritating, however, is the people who have "enough money" (code word: more money than I'll ever have) who worry about money. I certainly don't approve of spending money frivolously (unless you want to send me on vacation, in which case I recommend spending money lavishly, thank you), but it rubs me the wrong way when people with money begrudge sharing that money.

I spend money on a budget. A certain amount (read: most) of my money goes towards my ahh-I'll-have-a-mortgage-one-day fund, and another amount (read: a small amount) goes towards my ehh-I'll-spend-it fund (which, by the way, mostly funds my weekly baking sessions for my Sunday School class). I think my problem is that I judge too harshly. When I see people struggling financially and know that there is at least one area in their life in which they spend money needlessly, I always sort of quirk an eyebrow and think, "But if you just..."

Which is terrible. I have no place to worry about why people are or aren't spending money. Plus, I sort of OD'd on Larry Burkett back in the day, so I think I know all the pat answers, but since I really haven't had to live them, it's not worth much.

Moral of story? Money is complicated. The end.

100

I was already planning on writing about the number 100 this morning before I logged on and realized that this is my hundredth post. Nice.

I was thinking about the parable of the hundred sheep. We all understand that the one lost sheep is you or I, or anyone in need of a Saviour, who was sought out/is being sought out by the Lord. We all know about how the angels in Heaven rejoice over that one sinner that repents.

But... what about the 99? Who are they? Do they represent the pharisees from the Bible, or regular-type people who aren't saved (yet)?

And I know it's "just" a parable. As my dad consistently has to remind me, shadows and pictures in the Bible are just that--shadows. Pictures. Not entirely matching up to the reality of the situation. There's no way to have a perfect picture of Christ, because Christ is perfect. Nothing else compares. So that leaves us with fragments of the story, which is fine, because if we could understand the whole story, then God wouldn't be... God.

But I still don't understand who those 99 are. So if you have an inkling of who they represent, please let me know.

Asking about Acts - Part II

Let's talk for just a minute about Acts 27. Great chapter, truly it is, but there's one thing I always hear about it that sort of gets to me. Which is to say, Acts 27:29. "Then fearing lest we should have fallen upon rocks, they cast four anchors out of the stern, and wished for day."

The romantical side of me just likes to hear about a ship full of people wishing for day. Sounds cool (especially since you know they all survived at the end, phew), but it's the four anchors I hear a lot about. I'm not sure if any of the rest of you hear about these four anchors, but I highly recommend that if you're not familiar with a good sermon or two on the subject, that you head over to Google and, well, google it. "Acts 27 four anchors" is all it takes to come up with dozens of thoughts on these anchors.

I hear all sort of thoughts about them. Article number one on that Google search says that the four anchors are representative of Paul's steadiness in the storm. 1. He was in the presence of God, 2. He was God's possession, 3. He had a sense of purpose, and 4. He had a positive confession of his faith.

Well, these things are all good and right, but is that really what those four anchors represent?

Another article (also in the top ten Google listings under the search for "Acts 20 four anchors") says that the four anchors were that Paul 1. Prayed, 2. Had the Word of God, 3. Obeyed God, and 4. Had the hope of salvation. Once again, great things, but is that what those anchors mean?

I've heard other things. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, if you'll believe it, were once referred to as the four anchors. In Acts 2:42 mentions new Christians continuing steadfastly in 1. The apostle's doctrine, 2. fellowship, 3. Breaking of bread, and 4. prayers. That's pretty popular from what I've personally heard.

Anyhow, there are more, which doubtless I'll remember in the middle of the night tonight, but you get the idea.

Now, I'm not trying to be contrary (although I realize I come off as sort of contrary sometimes), but I'm trying to be practical, I guess. My hang-up with this whole situation is this: why are we comparing things to these anchors, anyhow? The anchors sure didn't help the ship, did they? This was a ship that, if we're trying to compare apples to apples, wouldn't even be qualified as a Christian ship (re-read the chapter, I'm sure it'll make sense in a moment!). So the illustration is already a little flimsy, in my opinion.

So, like I say, we have a ship who'd been trying, on its own merit, to reach land, cast these four anchors into the sea, and, well, that didn't work either. The ship broke in pieces, much like Humpty Dumpty, I imagine, only with less yolk.

May I reiterate: why do we like this illustration so much? These four anchors gave those sea-sick people not one ounce of help, and I'd like to keep viewing prayer and obedience to God as something that'll help me, thanks for asking. I once decided that I was going to sermonize all on my own, and started telling people that I thought that the four anchors referred to Jacob's four wifely things. Moral of that story? Have just one wife. For some reason that doctrine never really caught on, funny... =)

This really solved nothing, I suppose, but it felt nice to spit it all out.

Asking about Acts - Part I

So here's a good question: how do we know that Luke wrote Luke and Acts? I've been pondering this recently, and have been doing my best to look it up, but everyone just says that "it's generally acknowledged" Luke wrote them. We know the author was a traveling companion of Paul, and that he uses "we" starting whenever he jumped aboard Paul's journeys, but Paul had lots of companions.

No seriously, why are we all so certain that he wrote the books?

Christmas!

This is the first year I've even paid attention to the fact that it's Christmas, and that's only because I fly out soon, and am looking forward to maybe some less-crowded flights today! But I had a cozy Christmas Eve last night (never paid attention to that, either), and I read Luke 2 for fun (they do it in books a lot, I thought I'd see what the fuss was all about) and cozied up and went to bed at about 9:00. Which is good, because, in case nobody has noticed, it's a little early right now. Huzzah for early flights...

Anyhow, this whole Christmas cheer thing? So not all it's cracked up to be. Yesterday I went to Borders (ahhh, what good times) and was about to pull in a parking space when I realized that some crazy car was driving on the wrong side of the road towards me. I had no idea what was going on, but just pulled into the space to be done with it, and then got out of the car to walk into the store. At which point I realized that the car had stopped in the midst of the parking lot for the express purpose of calling me some rather nasty names and to tell me what they thought of my driving. Um, I was the one driving in the right direction, Mr. Foul Mouth.

But I'm a Christian, it's cool.

So good-bye, Christmas lights. Good-bye, songs about all manner of animals--from reindeer to donkeys (Dominic, anyone?) to squirrels--I think I'll be happier without you. Good-bye, Santa Baby. Remember your vows, old dude, and smack those cheeky girls who call you baby. Good-bye Christmas "cheer." Though I think the cheer looses some of it's cheeriness each year. Good-bye frantic shoppers, we'll see you come Valentine's Day when you want chocolates and flowers. Good-bye, jingle bells.

Good-night, moon.

What's not leaving? The peace on earth, good will to man. Because guess what? That's sort of part of the package that came with redemption. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is something we get to keep with us all year round.