When the load gets too heavy

 

pulley_35786_lgSometimes in life the weight you are trying to lift is too heavy: the stress of a new job, the illness of your spouse, another late notice from the bank. Alone we often just cannot accomplish all that is asked of us, nor should we have to in most cases.

Long ago, probably either the Greek’s or Roman’s invented a way to increase a person’s strength by the use of a rope and pulley system.   In reality, a person using a pulley (block and tackle) doesn’t get stronger; the weight of the item being lifted appears to shrink.  Looping a rope over one pulley and then attaching the loose end of the rope to the object being lifted changes the direction of the force, but doesn’t reduce the effort to lift it.   So in effect a 100 pound ball feels like 100 pounds when only using one pulley.However, adding another pulley does reduce the effort by 50% so a 100 pound box feels like 50 pounds.

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What about Saturday?

saturdayOn Good Friday our Lord was crucified, just as He and the Scriptures foretold.  We call it Good Friday, because had Jesus not been sacrificed we could not be saved, so it was a good day for us, but being wrongfully accused and killed by jealous men does not usually make for a “good day.”  Then on the third day, Easter, Jesus rose from the dead, concurring, Satan, death and sin forever, just as He promised He would do.

The Easter weekend is arguably the most important period in a Christian’s life, because it is the culmination of promises made by God to his people throughout history.  It is the victory of good over evil, forever.  Yet for all of its importance, only Friday and Sunday are celebrated or written about in the Bible.  Saturday is left out of the story completely.  Is this because Saturday was not important; nothing big happened so why write about it? No, I believe Saturday is as important to understanding the mercy and salvation available from God as the death or resurrection.  Saturday teaches us patience; to wait for God’s timing and not ours.

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Until the Ink is Dry

pen paperImagine the beginning of your life as a book without any words; blank pages beautifully bound in precious leather but absent any substance. Your life and mine is an unwritten story anxious to tell its tale. Now imagine a pen next to the book. The ink in the pen will create the lyrics of your life: love, joy pain, excitement, intrigue, and many thousands more.  Each page represents one day; God chooses the number of pages, only He knows the first day and the last. We create the experiences that fill the pages, deciding for ourselves the volume of life that each day will hold. So then, it is a partnership between ourself and God that creates the quality and fullness of the life we live, and that partnership is more evenly weighed than you may think.  

Jay, my brother-in-law, died this month.  It has been a time of emotional trauma as we navigate through unknown and unwanted waters.  Yet we somehow have made it past (sometimes reluctantly and always bruised) each hour of every day.  And we will survive the days to come, battered and tired beyond our human ability to comprehend, but survive we must, and we will.  

During this period, while writing an obituary for Jay and listening to the many entertainingly emotional stories arising from the pulpit and barstool, it is abundantly obvious to me that Jay’s book contained too few pages. His novel should have been Tolstoyick in nature, with pages of fine print numbered in the hundreds of thousands.  Still I believe the time of the last page was set by God for a reason I cannot comprehend, so I reluctantly choose not to question His contribution to the partnership.  This however, I know to be true; on the last day there was not a single drop of ink left in Jay’s pen.  He had filled each line on every page with life.  Richly laughing and loving through each chapter; every paragraph shouting for friends and family, Jay boldly placed all others in line before himself.

The adversity named diabetes struck him in the seventh chapter like the iceberg to the Titanic.  This time though, there was no shipwreck as Jay cast the berg aside like a melting snow-cone on a hot summer day.  Hard working and equally hard in play, Jay scribbled and printed in his book with an energy that was obvious and envied.  If the direction for his next adventure were unclear, Jay kept writing, knowing that every page would eventually be turned.  Near his end the pages turned slower, but that only gave Jay more time to spend filling the lines with laughter and hope.  His contribution to the partnership with God was at the highest level possible, making his book a timeless best seller.  Now, their partnership has become a sole proprietorship; the two merging into one, living on in endless fun and games.

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What does your book like?  How many pages are blank, or only contain a few words?  How often do our pages speak of work and responsibility, of belongings and not of family or friends?  The ink is ours alone to use, so why do we let so many other people and “things” dictate what we write?  How many paragraphs begin and end with God? 

 Is it time to for all of us to seize our pen and write our own story!

The death of Jay has made me test my priorities and my values.  I have not used all of my vacation time for any year of the last ten, but I have more miles on Southwest and points at Hilton than most people you will meet.  Over 400 friends and family members attended the two memorial services held in Jay’s honor, and although he had only been retired for three years, no one spoke what he had accomplished at work; we spoke of friendship, commitment, and love.  

I am not questioning the need for a career; I question its priority in our book.  I don’t question the need for serious thought; I encourage the need for laughter.  I’m also not advocating only engaging in BIG adventures (vacations, travel), but also the important little things; such as attending kids sporting events, family game nights and regular dates with your spouse.  I’m suggesting less of the doldrums and more excitement; I am proposing a reassessment of priorities to whom, and away from what, from sometime to now!

I am changing my vocabulary to phrases that say; yes, I’ll try that, or sure let’s go, and I’m coming home now.  I don’t know the number of pages left in my book, but I think there is a lot of ink left in the pen.  I intend to use every drop, just like Jay.  

The Trail Master

MountainForestPathThe group of thirty people, mostly men, a few women, and one lone boy standing off by himself, shuffled their feet to hold back the morning cold while they gathered at the base of the trail leading up the mountain.  From their vantage point, everything in existence appeared to be up, and in reality, they were right. The mountain ahead was not significantly steep, but the trail was narrow and held many twists and turns, so getting lost was a real danger. The air was crisp, and the beauty of the mountain was stunning; striking rock formations of red and beige surrounded by dark green trees of massive proportions, interrupted by an occasional deep blue twisting line. It should have been a painting; maybe it was.

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God Needs:

God needs:

Our love

Our respect

Our service

Our praise

Our discipline

Our hope

Our dreams

Our support

Our anger

Our fears

Our trust

Our sacrifice

Our attention

To love us

To guide us

To help us

To mentor us

To be our Father

To support us

To fulfill His dreams for us

To calm our fears

To give peace to our anger

To sacrifice Himself first

We Need:

God

We need to have goals and dreams, for ourselves, family and friends; it is a vital part of being human that God placed in each of us.  We need jobs, homes, vacations, food, transportation, clothing, value, friendship: all off these things are also a part of life.  First though, before all else – we need God.  He needs us, too.

Thanks for reading.

she is more…A Mother’s Day Story

“Mom, where are my blue socks with the little pink hearts?” shouted Kallie from her upstairs room. 

Lynn (Mom) walked from the kitchen, where she was making breakfast, to the landing midway up the stairs, “They are in your top drawer on the right side, with all your other socks -same place that they have been for the last four years; and remember the rule of not shouting in the house?”

“Yes Mom, thank you.”  ‘You’ was drawn out in typical adolescence overkill.  Kallie was the middle child in this busy household.

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The Real Deal

Your Mercy is limitless.

Your Encouragement for my soul is beyond expression.

Your Righteousness is our only desire.

Your Reality is the basis of all human understanding.

Your Years are infinitely uncountable.

 

Your Courage smothers the fear that emanates from Hades.

Your Heart holds the love of the universe; yet there is still room for more.

Your Remembrance of my sin is no more, as if it never was.

Your Instincts create reality.

Your Strength covers all of my weakness.

Your Timing is exact and perfectly planned.

Your Motives are pure.

Your Authority is permanent and eternal.

Your Son is our road to salvation.

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Weren’t There Ten of You?

The title of this story was the classic response from Jesus, when after healing the ten lepers, only one came back to say, thank you.  “Weren’t there ten of you?” He asked.  Of course He knew how many there were; he had just healed them.  He wanted the one person who returned with a grateful heart, and us, to know that He was questioning the whereabouts of the other nine.  In effect, Jesus was asking, “Were the others happy to be healed of this terrible disease as well?  Why didn’t they come back and say so?”  Undoubtedly, the other nine men were very happy and excited to be healed; most likely, that was the problem.  They were so excited that they forgot who to thank for their gift.  They ran off to their homes and villages to show off the miracle, to stand before the crowds and reveal how fortunate their circumstances had changed.  The gift became the focus of all, the center of attention; and the giver, the most important person in this moment, was cast in a supporting role.  The nine were confused and mistaken. It was not the gift that was important, but the giver of the gift who was the real story.  In their haste, (and happiness) they forgot about gratitude.

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Who?

We were talking at my Bible study last Wednesday about how God will come to us no matter where we are at.  We can be in a time where life is good; there is peace at home, the job is good; or maybe in a place when life isn’t so peaceful.  Maybe there isn’t a job, or it’s not the one you want.  Maybe the peace at home isn’t real, and the underlying stress is chewing through your insides.  Maybe some days are really good and some are just OK.  One thing is certain, everyone is going through something that is stressful, or if they aren’t, then someone they love is.  Our belief is that God is standing right next to every one of us, all of the time, helping to make the day better even if we don’t ask for help.  He doesn’t solve all of our problems, He makes it easier for us to solve them ourselves, and so we exit the troubled times in better shape.  At the Bible study, we talked mostly about the where and when of our interactions with God.  Today, I want to explore the who in our relationship with God.

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