Time management is not my strongest suit. If I cared to apply to the Guinness Book of World Records, I'd stand a good chance of earning a listing for "impossibly cluttered calendars and resultant frustration levels."
Not that I don't understand--in theory--the concept of prioritizing your list, doing the most important things first, and being willing to live without the rest. The trouble is that the only real priority my natural mindset believes in is "missing out on nothing"--which can make it pretty tough to hit the point of satisfaction when the world keeps bombarding you with new ideas, suggestions, and requests.
Is it just me, or does the whole concept of "things to do" mutate once you graduate from college--from a footpath into a flash flood, from an orderly grade-by-grade, test-by-test progression into a thousand square miles of tasks scattered at random and stretching far beyond what the eye can see?
Perhaps it's time to look with new eyes at the words of Jesus from Matthew 6:33: "Seek first [God's] kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." On first reading this in context, "all these things" we are tempted to fret about seems to refer only to material needs. But might it also refer to our time--that much-valued treasure that everyone moans about being short on, that we seem to chase at more consistently frantic pace than anything else, that we worry and fret about and become obsessed with "saving" and try to store like spare food in granaries?
Those of us who "never have enough time for anything"--even "God's work"--may need to consider whether we're trying to do everything on our own schedule instead of His.
Higher, higher, ever higher,
Do the goals we seek retreat;
Farther, farther, ever farther,
Back we fall from lists complete;
Faster, faster, ever faster,
Come life's struggles, tasks, and fuss:
Will we never reach the day of
Having time enough for us?
Listen, brother; listen, sister--
All of time is in God's hands;
Nothing that this world can muster
Can delay His holy plans.
Never is He in a hurry,
Never is He running late:
Time enough He gives His children
For the things He counts as great!
Slow your pace and cease your hurry:
Pause and take the time to hear
How He wants to set your schedule;
He will make your focus clear.
We will never find the time for
All the world's unending "stuff,"
But to seek God's blessed Kingdom,
There is always time enough!
Friday, April 13, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
Pieces of the Puzzle
You probably know about the "yellow ribbon" loop worn to indicate support for soldiers and others in dangerous situations away from home. Perhaps you also know about the "red ribbon" loop for AIDS and the "pink ribbon" loop for breast cancer. What you may not know is that there is a whole rainbow of "awareness ribbons" representing support for every cause imaginable. A navy ribbon symbolizes human trafficking; an orange ribbon leukemia; a silver ribbon mental illness. (Among other things. Most colors have been appropriated by multiple causes; see Wikipedia for an extensive list.)
Particularly intriguing is the "puzzle ribbon" for autism, which comprises a pattern of assorted bright colors shaped like interlocked jigsaw puzzle pieces. According to the Autism Society, "The puzzle pattern reflects the mystery and complexity of the autism spectrum. The different colors and shapes represent the diversity of the people and families living with the condition. The brightness of the ribbon signals hope—hope that through increased awareness of autism, and through early intervention and appropriate treatments, people with autism will lead fuller, more complete lives."
Perhaps the "puzzle ribbon" should also signify the fallen human condition. In a sense, all of us have autism: not merely unwilling, but literally unable, to see past our own immediate desires and form an accurate picture of reality. Most jigsaw puzzle pieces, by themselves, show no more visible "picture" than does a quick paint smear from a brush touched to the palette at random: likewise with the individual events of our lives. Absorbed in each event as it happens, we frequently moan that life makes no sense.
Praise God, He gives us the brightness of hope through Jesus Christ, weaving our fragmented lives into a beautiful picture that we will ultimately see clearly.
Strewn before the eyes in fragments--
Few make sense when viewed alone--
Each a different splotch of color,
Void of meaning in its tone.
Yet, with patient, careful working,
Slow but certain, wholeness grows,
Till, each piece at last positioned,
Then the final picture shows.
Human lives are ever splintered:
Things that happen, on their own,
Often splotched with pain and heartache,
Make small sense when viewed alone.
Yet, be patient with God's working,
As His purpose slowly grows,
Till your life, all things completed,
His eternal meaning shows!
Particularly intriguing is the "puzzle ribbon" for autism, which comprises a pattern of assorted bright colors shaped like interlocked jigsaw puzzle pieces. According to the Autism Society, "The puzzle pattern reflects the mystery and complexity of the autism spectrum. The different colors and shapes represent the diversity of the people and families living with the condition. The brightness of the ribbon signals hope—hope that through increased awareness of autism, and through early intervention and appropriate treatments, people with autism will lead fuller, more complete lives."
Perhaps the "puzzle ribbon" should also signify the fallen human condition. In a sense, all of us have autism: not merely unwilling, but literally unable, to see past our own immediate desires and form an accurate picture of reality. Most jigsaw puzzle pieces, by themselves, show no more visible "picture" than does a quick paint smear from a brush touched to the palette at random: likewise with the individual events of our lives. Absorbed in each event as it happens, we frequently moan that life makes no sense.
Praise God, He gives us the brightness of hope through Jesus Christ, weaving our fragmented lives into a beautiful picture that we will ultimately see clearly.
Strewn before the eyes in fragments--
Few make sense when viewed alone--
Each a different splotch of color,
Void of meaning in its tone.
Yet, with patient, careful working,
Slow but certain, wholeness grows,
Till, each piece at last positioned,
Then the final picture shows.
Human lives are ever splintered:
Things that happen, on their own,
Often splotched with pain and heartache,
Make small sense when viewed alone.
Yet, be patient with God's working,
As His purpose slowly grows,
Till your life, all things completed,
His eternal meaning shows!
Friday, March 2, 2012
Peace and Rest
This Lent, my home church is doing a sermon series on "Decisive Moments in the Life of Christ," which began last Sunday with "Birth" and used the text for the Annunciation. Therefore, this week's poem, which was written during Advent 2010, serves as a nod to my favorite fellowship as well as a reminder of what should be the spirit of Lent--slowing down a bit and giving God time to speak to us.
Though sometimes I wish it, few of us have the option of going into the wilderness for forty days as Jesus did. But we can declare a "wilderness time" of sorts in our daily life. I recently read an article, "A Desert Time or a Dry Season?," that cast beautiful light on what a Christian's "desert time" should be--not the desolation and deprivation most of us picture, but "a time of refreshing, a quiet season, a time that I came to know the still small voice of the Lord, and to recognize His voice from the voice of man and my own voice." If we can't get away physically from our ordinary lives, we at least can make a special effort to put aside most of the nonessentials, to cry out to God from the depths of our hearts, to seek out that special and sacred "prayer place" that may be waiting quietly to be discovered within easy walking distance. We can take extra prayer time for the express purpose of asking God to teach us to thirst for His Word and His presence above all material concerns.
As many a Southwesterner will testify, the desert can be a place of beauty as well as of mystery, awe, and--perhaps most important of all--peace and silence. It is in the wilderness that we find God's rest.
Life moves at a frantic pace,
Everything a speeding race;
Pounding hearts fill every chest:
Where can we find peace and rest?
In the world of Roman days,
Life, as now, had fretful ways:
Few did let their strivings cease
When the angels sang of peace.
Christ was born to bring us love,
Flowing pure from Heaven above:
Wise men traveling pathways west
Saw in Him true peace and rest.
From the Manger to the Cross,
Christ walked earth to seek the lost.
Now, as then, the eye that sees
Knows He is our Rest and Peace.
Though sometimes I wish it, few of us have the option of going into the wilderness for forty days as Jesus did. But we can declare a "wilderness time" of sorts in our daily life. I recently read an article, "A Desert Time or a Dry Season?," that cast beautiful light on what a Christian's "desert time" should be--not the desolation and deprivation most of us picture, but "a time of refreshing, a quiet season, a time that I came to know the still small voice of the Lord, and to recognize His voice from the voice of man and my own voice." If we can't get away physically from our ordinary lives, we at least can make a special effort to put aside most of the nonessentials, to cry out to God from the depths of our hearts, to seek out that special and sacred "prayer place" that may be waiting quietly to be discovered within easy walking distance. We can take extra prayer time for the express purpose of asking God to teach us to thirst for His Word and His presence above all material concerns.
As many a Southwesterner will testify, the desert can be a place of beauty as well as of mystery, awe, and--perhaps most important of all--peace and silence. It is in the wilderness that we find God's rest.
Life moves at a frantic pace,
Everything a speeding race;
Pounding hearts fill every chest:
Where can we find peace and rest?
In the world of Roman days,
Life, as now, had fretful ways:
Few did let their strivings cease
When the angels sang of peace.
Christ was born to bring us love,
Flowing pure from Heaven above:
Wise men traveling pathways west
Saw in Him true peace and rest.
From the Manger to the Cross,
Christ walked earth to seek the lost.
Now, as then, the eye that sees
Knows He is our Rest and Peace.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Not for Wealth and Not for Pleasure
Profound truths can be found in unusual places. In his 1975 book The Dictionary of Misinformation--the sort of thing usually shelved with the trivia--Tom Burnam notes under "Predestination" that "a belief in predestination is among the noblest of doctrines. For it places the emphasis not on goodness as a lever to ensure some future paradise, but as valuable for its own sake. To live the good life without regard to what's in it for you comes close to the ultimate in altruism."
Few are noble enough to be that altruistic--even on the material plane. We resist with all our might any evidence against the idea that God owes us some earthly paradise for being good. At the extreme is the "health and wealth gospel," which believes that adequate piety ensures freedom from any real problems. If you've met up with a health-and-wealth preacher during any of the low moments of life, you know something of how Job must have felt when his friends were badgering him to agree he deserved his hardships.
It's not that God doesn't want to give us the best. It's just that we fail to appreciate that the Best is God Himself, and all else is immaterial. Even Christians can fall prey to the idea that it's better to have fun for a while before surrendering completely to God's will--as though the best happiness and God's will were compatible only in Heaven. More "what's in it for me" thinking.
What's in it for us is the sort of joy that could never be found in wealth and pleasure alone--starting not in the afterlife but anytime we're willing to take it. But since God is the essence of such joy, setting human terms for it is more than selfish.
It's literally impossible.
Not for wealth and not for pleasure,
Not for ease as our reward,
Not for any earthly treasure,
Do we serve our holy Lord:
He Who came and walked among us,
For our sake He suffered all,
Set aside all Heaven's glories
To redeem us from the Fall.
For our sake He lived as nothing:
For Him, will we do the same?
For our sake He cruelly suffered;
For Him, will we bear all shame?
He gave all for us, so, likewise,
May we give our all for Him:
He has greater gifts than riches,
And will fill us to the brim!
Few are noble enough to be that altruistic--even on the material plane. We resist with all our might any evidence against the idea that God owes us some earthly paradise for being good. At the extreme is the "health and wealth gospel," which believes that adequate piety ensures freedom from any real problems. If you've met up with a health-and-wealth preacher during any of the low moments of life, you know something of how Job must have felt when his friends were badgering him to agree he deserved his hardships.
It's not that God doesn't want to give us the best. It's just that we fail to appreciate that the Best is God Himself, and all else is immaterial. Even Christians can fall prey to the idea that it's better to have fun for a while before surrendering completely to God's will--as though the best happiness and God's will were compatible only in Heaven. More "what's in it for me" thinking.
What's in it for us is the sort of joy that could never be found in wealth and pleasure alone--starting not in the afterlife but anytime we're willing to take it. But since God is the essence of such joy, setting human terms for it is more than selfish.
It's literally impossible.
Not for wealth and not for pleasure,
Not for ease as our reward,
Not for any earthly treasure,
Do we serve our holy Lord:
He Who came and walked among us,
For our sake He suffered all,
Set aside all Heaven's glories
To redeem us from the Fall.
For our sake He lived as nothing:
For Him, will we do the same?
For our sake He cruelly suffered;
For Him, will we bear all shame?
He gave all for us, so, likewise,
May we give our all for Him:
He has greater gifts than riches,
And will fill us to the brim!
Friday, February 17, 2012
I Know Not What the Future Holds
Do you check the weather forecast every morning? And watch the long-range forecast with a nervous eye if you're planning a Saturday outing?
Do you pay serious attention to what climatologists, sociologists, eschatologists, and other futurologists say we can expect in the next decade?
What would you give for infallible knowledge of the right place to be at the right time?
Human craving to know the future is near-universal--and sometimes dangerous. One man left a good marriage for one that proved miserable because an astrologer had told him he was destined to meet his true soul mate after his first marriage. A woman came to her pastor in hysterics, begging for help with a compulsion to commit suicide on what a fortuneteller had predicted would be the last day her life was any use.
One sometimes wonders if Christian fascination with predicting the imminent end of the world is any better. Some people read the Bible like the prophecies of Nostradamus, searching for every possible parallel between what the text says and what happens in the real world, then announcing that this will surely happen next. The many failed prophecies in that regard can't be doing God's reputation much good.
Even in Christian dress, the desire to know the future is closely tied to the craving to control the future, to "be like God." Which is probably why the Bible has nothing good to say about fortunetelling and divination--and why Jesus said no one can know the time of the end, a quote that many sincere Christians go through extreme semantic contortions to explain away. We want the comfort of being certain that our earthly struggles will end soon, preferably before they have a chance to get extreme. We want to be assured in no uncertain terms that we will not only go to Heaven, but have a pretty good time along the way. We don't want to admit that God alone knows what will happen--and rarely sees fit to give us much detail. We don't want to let go, concentrate on whatever work He has for us at the moment, and let Him take care of the future.
How much more content we would be if we left the worry and responsibility to Him!
What years of coming future hold,
I have no eyes to see:
But He Who holds those coming years
Is also holding me.
With God to watch my every step,
I have no use for fear:
I’ll walk with joy the path of faith,
And trust that He is near.
Do you pay serious attention to what climatologists, sociologists, eschatologists, and other futurologists say we can expect in the next decade?
What would you give for infallible knowledge of the right place to be at the right time?
Human craving to know the future is near-universal--and sometimes dangerous. One man left a good marriage for one that proved miserable because an astrologer had told him he was destined to meet his true soul mate after his first marriage. A woman came to her pastor in hysterics, begging for help with a compulsion to commit suicide on what a fortuneteller had predicted would be the last day her life was any use.
One sometimes wonders if Christian fascination with predicting the imminent end of the world is any better. Some people read the Bible like the prophecies of Nostradamus, searching for every possible parallel between what the text says and what happens in the real world, then announcing that this will surely happen next. The many failed prophecies in that regard can't be doing God's reputation much good.
Even in Christian dress, the desire to know the future is closely tied to the craving to control the future, to "be like God." Which is probably why the Bible has nothing good to say about fortunetelling and divination--and why Jesus said no one can know the time of the end, a quote that many sincere Christians go through extreme semantic contortions to explain away. We want the comfort of being certain that our earthly struggles will end soon, preferably before they have a chance to get extreme. We want to be assured in no uncertain terms that we will not only go to Heaven, but have a pretty good time along the way. We don't want to admit that God alone knows what will happen--and rarely sees fit to give us much detail. We don't want to let go, concentrate on whatever work He has for us at the moment, and let Him take care of the future.
How much more content we would be if we left the worry and responsibility to Him!
What years of coming future hold,
I have no eyes to see:
But He Who holds those coming years
Is also holding me.
With God to watch my every step,
I have no use for fear:
I’ll walk with joy the path of faith,
And trust that He is near.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Easter Spirit
I love the writing of Mary Southerland, "The Stress-Buster and Women's Ministry Motivator," for her anecdotes, humor, and Scriptural insight that regularly seem to have my own particular struggles in mind. Three days ago, she noted in a blog post, "January is often referred to as the 'blue' month. The blahs attack and a strange sense of discontentment fills our hearts and minds. A local radio host recently explained that since the holidays are over, there is a void or a vacuum left that causes those blues.... Something is definitely missing but I don’t think it has as much to do with the Christmas holidays as with the way we live the rest of the year. Christmas is not a season.... Christmas is a way of life. Every day should find us still and quiet before the manger as we celebrate the birth, life, death and resurrection of our coming Lord and King, Jesus Christ."
With the beginning of Lent less than a month away, it's good to note that what's true for Christmas should be all the more true for Easter. Many people, even non-Christians, have urged "keeping the Christmas spirit all year round," but surprisingly few ever raise the concept of an "Easter spirit" outside of Holy Week. (One notable exception is the song "Every Morning Is Easter Morning," published 1967 in The Avery and Marsh Songbook.) And yet, without Easter, Christmas would have little to distinguish it as a celebration from the birthday of Martin Luther King or George Washington. Many great people have made sufficient impression on the world that their birthdays--or death days--are officially commemorated; but only One has returned from the dead with the authority to offer eternal life to anyone who accepts it.
It's interesting that in the early centuries of Christianity, the birth of Jesus received scant attention--two of the Gospels don't even mention it, and Epistle references are few and terse--while the Crucifixion and Resurrection were emphasized at every opportunity. Easter was and is what makes Christianity unique and wonderful as a religion: who else recognizes a God Who is powerful enough to conquer even death, holy enough to be completely free of selfishness and pride, and generous enough to suffer for the very people who treat Him with contempt and offer them all anyone could ever dream of without asking them to contribute a thing to the payment?
So what does an Easter spirit look like? Reflective of this God in humility and generosity. Immensely grateful for what He has done. Confident that we can do nothing on our own and everything through Him. The epitome of Paul's command in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18: "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus."
Surely it is also His will that we celebrate Easter all year.
The Power that raised Christ from the dead
Is the Holy Spirit in you:
Do not fear your weakness, but trust His strength
To direct each thing you do.
The Power that lit that Easter morn
Is the Light that glows in your heart:
Do not fear the darkness inside your soul,
For the Lord never will depart.
The Spirit Who brought new hope to life
Is the Source of all hope to be:
Trust with courage and patience His work in you,
Though you may not have eyes to see.
That first Easter Day of rebirth and joy
Still can live in your soul today:
Let it lead you on to eternal realms,
And God's grace ever light your way.
With the beginning of Lent less than a month away, it's good to note that what's true for Christmas should be all the more true for Easter. Many people, even non-Christians, have urged "keeping the Christmas spirit all year round," but surprisingly few ever raise the concept of an "Easter spirit" outside of Holy Week. (One notable exception is the song "Every Morning Is Easter Morning," published 1967 in The Avery and Marsh Songbook.) And yet, without Easter, Christmas would have little to distinguish it as a celebration from the birthday of Martin Luther King or George Washington. Many great people have made sufficient impression on the world that their birthdays--or death days--are officially commemorated; but only One has returned from the dead with the authority to offer eternal life to anyone who accepts it.
It's interesting that in the early centuries of Christianity, the birth of Jesus received scant attention--two of the Gospels don't even mention it, and Epistle references are few and terse--while the Crucifixion and Resurrection were emphasized at every opportunity. Easter was and is what makes Christianity unique and wonderful as a religion: who else recognizes a God Who is powerful enough to conquer even death, holy enough to be completely free of selfishness and pride, and generous enough to suffer for the very people who treat Him with contempt and offer them all anyone could ever dream of without asking them to contribute a thing to the payment?
So what does an Easter spirit look like? Reflective of this God in humility and generosity. Immensely grateful for what He has done. Confident that we can do nothing on our own and everything through Him. The epitome of Paul's command in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18: "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus."
Surely it is also His will that we celebrate Easter all year.
The Power that raised Christ from the dead
Is the Holy Spirit in you:
Do not fear your weakness, but trust His strength
To direct each thing you do.
The Power that lit that Easter morn
Is the Light that glows in your heart:
Do not fear the darkness inside your soul,
For the Lord never will depart.
The Spirit Who brought new hope to life
Is the Source of all hope to be:
Trust with courage and patience His work in you,
Though you may not have eyes to see.
That first Easter Day of rebirth and joy
Still can live in your soul today:
Let it lead you on to eternal realms,
And God's grace ever light your way.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Count Your Blessings, Not Your Troubles
I confess that I lifted today's title from a principles list in Dale Carnegie's classic work, How to Stop Worrying and Start Living. Mostly because I could hardly say it any better--and because the contrast points up a major struggle in my own life. Counting troubles is so much easier.
Many a parent and teacher can testify that it's the bratty children who get attention, while the quiet, well-behaved ones are taken for granted unless their performance proves exceptionally good. Life's circumstances are little different. When things go smoothly, we take it as no more than our due; when circumstances impede our wants, we can think of nothing else. We're like the Israelites in the wilderness who set up a wail when the water supply ran short and complained that their daily diet was too monotonous, rarely thanking God for His miraculous provision or trusting that He would keep it up.
Trusting God: therein lies the key issue. If we truly believe He loves us and has our best interests at heart, we should have little trouble seeing the many good things in our lives; if we think in terms of "I know what's best for me and I have a right to it," everything that interferes with that ideal is the enemy. To whatever degree you believe that good thoughts attract good things and bad thoughts bad, the biggest roadblocks to our happiness are the ones we build through our own "I want what I want and I absolutely refuse to accept anything else" attitudes. Because very few people come close to getting everything they want.
Even those who do tend to find it considerably less satisfying than generally assumed. Selfishness is a sure path to misery; it's just not what we were made for. We were created, as the old catechism goes, "to glorify God [not ourselves] and to enjoy him [not our own ideas of perfect circumstances] forever."
And when we focus on Him, blessings become far clearer as well.
Count your blessings, not your troubles:
If you look at wants and lacks,
Misery will fall upon you
As a battered vessel cracks.
If you look at God's abundance
And you let Him fill your life,
Joy will come to rule your spirit
And your happiness will thrive.
Count your blessings, not your troubles:
God gives special gifts to each
As His wisdom sees is fitting:
Do not for another's reach.
Joy in what is yours, and use it
In God's grace to serve your Lord,
Do His work, and praise His glory--
You will find your sure reward!
Many a parent and teacher can testify that it's the bratty children who get attention, while the quiet, well-behaved ones are taken for granted unless their performance proves exceptionally good. Life's circumstances are little different. When things go smoothly, we take it as no more than our due; when circumstances impede our wants, we can think of nothing else. We're like the Israelites in the wilderness who set up a wail when the water supply ran short and complained that their daily diet was too monotonous, rarely thanking God for His miraculous provision or trusting that He would keep it up.
Trusting God: therein lies the key issue. If we truly believe He loves us and has our best interests at heart, we should have little trouble seeing the many good things in our lives; if we think in terms of "I know what's best for me and I have a right to it," everything that interferes with that ideal is the enemy. To whatever degree you believe that good thoughts attract good things and bad thoughts bad, the biggest roadblocks to our happiness are the ones we build through our own "I want what I want and I absolutely refuse to accept anything else" attitudes. Because very few people come close to getting everything they want.
Even those who do tend to find it considerably less satisfying than generally assumed. Selfishness is a sure path to misery; it's just not what we were made for. We were created, as the old catechism goes, "to glorify God [not ourselves] and to enjoy him [not our own ideas of perfect circumstances] forever."
And when we focus on Him, blessings become far clearer as well.
Count your blessings, not your troubles:
If you look at wants and lacks,
Misery will fall upon you
As a battered vessel cracks.
If you look at God's abundance
And you let Him fill your life,
Joy will come to rule your spirit
And your happiness will thrive.
Count your blessings, not your troubles:
God gives special gifts to each
As His wisdom sees is fitting:
Do not for another's reach.
Joy in what is yours, and use it
In God's grace to serve your Lord,
Do His work, and praise His glory--
You will find your sure reward!
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