| A Word From Marilyn
Pay Attention…It’s Not Small Stuff
You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden…let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:14, 16.
Beneath the title on Richard Carlson’s book Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff are the words, “and it’s all small stuff.” I have a different perspective on small stuff. This is it: Pay attention. Some small stuff isn’t small and some big stuff isn’t big. Maybe I over think some things, but let me explain.
My mid-life crisis turned publishing career is in its eighth year now. Over time I have been privileged to interview some of the most amazing Christ followers; saints in earth-suits, some of them high profile, some not-so-high profile, all in love with the same Savior and all with a very focused priority of carrying the light of Christ into each and every new day. There is a “God-confidence” about them, and they never seek the limelight for themselves. However, they have this enthusiasm for life. They expect God to show up in the business meeting, the classroom, the grocery store, and even in time when plans went awry. Through life’s laughter and life’s tears, whether there is order or chaos, nothing is “small stuff” when you are living in the moment with an open heart and an open hand. Real life is about serving a living God who enters into the ordinary places of our every day, whose ways are higher than our ways and whose plans are always about blessing…even when those blessing plans of His, blow our comfort zone to pieces.
My friend Dr. John Oswalt at Wesley Biblical Seminary says God never wastes anything in our lives. So true. Again and again in interviews I hear the same theme, something that seemed minor at the time turns into a defining moment of life. Nothing is random. Our vision may be clouded at times, but God’s never is. You know, I have lived through enough crises to believe that wholeheartedly. He does have a plan. He planned every one of our days before a one of them came to be. Those thoughts bring me more comfort than ever in this present day.
The Seattle Drip story is one of my favorites in this issue. I definitely made a new group of friends in this research. I also got to see their coffee lab and sampled some incredible coffee…but it’s not all about coffee with these guys. It’s all about the Lord. The pursuit of excellence with coffee has to do with the pursuit of the Lord. He has a way of inspiring us to excellence no matter the venue.
Allison Schmelzer’s “This is My Story” is also a favorite. Allison’s mother is my college roommate. It was 1969 when we loaded up my daddy’s big, big, very big Oldsmobile (I think it was bigger than some rooms in my house) and arrived on the Ole Miss campus with all of our earthly possessions, but I digress. Allison prayed a dangerous prayer asking God to break her heart with the things that break His. So somewhere between her prayers and God’s answer, the Schmelzer’s find themselves poised and waiting to adopt their new baby girl from Ethiopia. Comfort Zone? Clearly, that term is not in God’s dictionary.
My daughter Betsy returns to “Single Still…Single Again.” As usual, she makes me laugh right before making me cry…good tears that mothers cry when they realize their children do have a personal faith walk with the Lord. And I have relinquished the role of mother/protector/conscience.
Our God is a Good God. He is good all the time, whether we immediately decipher our circumstances or not. He’s good even when He says, “no,” or “wait,” or seems to be very, very quiet. It is never that He is not listening. He never ceases to look after His children and God is never confused. He is always…and I mean always…in control. Our job is to pay attention.
All In a Day’s Work – Blessing, Challenge, and Life Lessons
I am like a mama when it comes to almost every issue, but I am a major mama with this one. If I could just tell you all of the bumps in the road on the way to writing our cover story this month, you would not believe it. When there are as many obstacles as there were in capturing this one, I always think of the words in Ephesians – “…we wrestle not against flesh and blood but against spiritual forces of evil in heavenly places.”
Let’s see. After our first interview with Cynthia Palmer, my tape recorder malfunctioned. I lost the interview. Then we had another interview. I accidentally deleted the document when I finished the story. By this time, I had covered Cynthia so many times I was beginning to think I WAS Cynthia. Trying to be calm, I launched yet a third effort to put her story on paper. The third time was the charm! After a lot of prayer and hermit time as a writer, we have Cynthia up close and personal.
She has been my friend for about eight years now and I am thrilled to introduce her to our readers. She has made a name for herself all over the gospel world, but it’s the person behind the voice I want you to know because she has a beautiful heart as well.
You will see some new and not-so-new faces in this issue. We welcome Lydia Allison (a.k.a our own Emily Post) back for a series on “Marketplace Manners.” How many times do you follow the prompts in a voicemail that tells you how “important” your call is and that someone will call you back – only to realize that if you waited for that call - you just might turn back to dust before the phone rings!
Robin O’Bryant who is writing the new column “Modern Motherhood” e-mailed me mid-month during my trials and tribulations with the cover story. It was a “God” thing. Her hilarious columns on motherhood will make you laugh out loud. For fresh perspective, start here.
On a sad note, our ancient kitty cat Elaine passed away a few weeks ago. I had made fun of Elaine E. Cat several times during my publishing career. She is one of several pets my daughter Betsy, the humanitarian (Pet-itarian?) left behind when she went to college in 1997. Charles went to retrieve the newspaper one morning recently, came back inside gently told me that Elaine was curled up in the front yard and would not wake up.
At 17 years old (that would be 119 human years) I knew she had lived a great life. But I have recently reflected on what Elaine taught me…and yes…it never ceases to amaze me that when God wants to teach us a lesson, he can use any ordinary thing, event or being to get our attention. In fact, I think we remember it a little better when the lesson comes through “ordinary”…even a cat.
Elaine lived for many years with an “It’s all about me” kind of mentality. Many were the times she would hop up on my desk, stroll across the keyboard and park herself in the middle of my work. There were days she wanted affection and days she would hiss if I came close. She was certainly a piece of work, as they say. But you know…we loved that kitty cat and found some amusement in her eccentricities.
She did mellow in her later years. I worried when I married Charles and moved from her familiar neighborhood to his home in Ridgeland that she was just too old to adapt to the move. Much to my surprise, she was fine. We came home every day to find her lounging in the driveway and happy to see whoever was coming home first.
She and Thurber, our male Corgi, had a love/hate relationship. Thurber could bark at her with the passion of an attack dog through a fence, but when the three of us (Daisy, Thurber, and Elaine) strolled down the street, they behaved like the Three Musketeers. Once, not so long ago, a pair of Golden Retrievers were walking with their master in the opposite direction. The retrievers were about twice the size of our Corgis. As the Corgis and the Retrievers began to bark viciously at each other, Elaine jumped between them and slapped at one of the Retrievers with a sharp claw. He tucked his tail and yelped. Thus ended that confrontation! Elaine and Thurber may have had their issues, but blood was thicker than water and she was not about to let a strange dog threaten her kin.
I know that so much of what we learn through our earthly relationships mirror lessons that God means for us to learn about our relationship with Him. I am just hoping with all my heart that just as Elaine’s inconsistencies never lessened my love for her that God is just as patient with me…because I am at least as fickle and far more inconsistent in my behavior.
Happy Reading!
Created to Create
”Art washes from the soul the dust of everyday life.” -- Picasso.
I pass my grand piano a dozen times a day. I try not to notice it, but the truth is I notice it in the same painful way one would notice an empty chair at Thanksgiving or Christmas. The part of me that it represents almost does not exist anymore - crowded out by the demands of the life I live in this present moment. For years that piano and I were an inseparable duo. It was an escape, a comfort, an inspiration, a challenge and a friend. I was never bored in its presence. I could lose myself in it for hours. The joy was in the journey. It was more than the mastery of random notes and rhythms. It was finding my expression in something deeper than words and far greater than myself. It was personal. It was unique. It was soul-fulfilling and it was mine. Music was my special language and something I always felt God had given to me.
I discovered in the interviews for this month’s magazine that most artists feel exactly that way. Their work is so much a part of who they are that they cannot imagine being alive if that ability were taken away.
I really love this issue. “Treasures in jars of clay” (2 Corinthians 4:7) is the word picture that comes to mind. In this fallen world where there is an abundance of pain and sin and all manner of evil, God has given each of us the capacity to appreciate art, music, dance, literature – so much that is beautiful - to soak it up, drink it in, and in some way be transformed by it. When the Bible speaks of being created in His image, I think one of the most evident aspects of that truth would be that the Master Artist who made the sun, the moon and the stars, has allowed us to create, too. He must delight in watching his created beings attempt to capture the blue of the summer sky at mid-day, the intricate detail of a child’s chubby hand, or the indescribable nuances of color in an autumn landscape.
Mississippi and especially the Metro area, is saturated with fabulous artists. (By the way, I am married to one). We introduce you to a tiny sampling here. For every artist featured there are about five more locals whose work could literally take your breath away. And one thing that made it so difficult to pick the ones we have featured is that no two artists paint the same. They all have their own style and their own message. And who’s to say whose message is the one that would touch you right where you are today? I don’t usually offer advice, but I think I will. If you are looking for an afternoon respite from either an office filled with computer noises and beige walls or the 100 degree-plus heat index; try visiting our art galleries as a kind of mini-vacation. We are blessed for a city this size to have numerous wonderful galleries filled with outstanding local artists’ work and much of it is quite affordable. One thing I know. You are sure to have an “Aha” moment or two and you are sure to walk away feeling rejuvenated in the best kind of way!
More to read in this issue – Do not miss the special feature, “Lucy’s Revenge.” Meeting Keith Plunkett was a real God-thing. Such encounters happen to me all the time and I am at a loss to explain why in the world they do – except that God knows I love to tell a story. Keith surely has one. If you have ever been touched in any way by loving someone who developed Alzheimer’s, you will want to read this feature. Who knows…even if you don’t go out and buy a kayak, you might want to try paddling one on the internet!
All of our writers have a great message this month. Do not miss “Our Daily Bread” or “Home Works,” or “The Way I See it” or anything else! We have packed so much into this that you might just want to keep it close for a cover-to-cover read over the next few days.
I wish you a happy Fourth of July. In a time when many things seem unstable…it is a huge comfort to remember that our God is the same yesterday, today, and forever…He changes not. In all of our anxiety over the present and the future, we can find peace in the reality that our God holds time in His Hands. We know WHO holds the future. Therefore, we are not afraid.
Speaking of Fathers…
Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it. Proverbs 22:6.
Actor Bill Cosby, as Dr. Cliff Huxtable, is for many the face of fatherhood in American pop culture. The long running Cosby Show, one of the last prime time sit-coms revolving around a traditional family, offered a weekly dose of practical parental wisdom and laugh-out-loud humor.
In the very first episode in 1984, teenaged son Theo Huxtable, announces to his dad that he has decided not to go to college but to graduate high school, get a job and be a “regular person.” Theo does not want to spoil the enjoyment of life by having to work too hard. Cosby’s first line of persuasion is to give Theo $1200 in Monopoly money to represent a monthly salary. He proceeds with a crash course about the cost of living.
Theo, with barely a dollar remaining in his fist after the imaginary taxes and expenses, is undeterred and tells his dad basically, “I don’t care about being successful. You should just accept me the way I am just because I am your son.”
Cosby, aka Dr. Huxtable draws a breath and locks eyes with his son. The silent stare is itself a loud message. With a no-nonsense tone, a firm but loving father lets his son know that there are certain non-negotiables in the Huxtable family and hard work and college are among them. It was a timeless lesson well remembered. Observing Theo’s stubborn immaturity and his father’s principles brought to mind I Corinthians 13:11. “When I was a child I thought like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.” And who better than a father can, over time, shape and mold the man (or woman).
Cliff Huxtable was always more concerned with building his children’s character than winning a popularity contest. Reminds me of the way God operates – when He speaks of “conforming us to His image” (Romans 12), He frequently hands us a few circumstances we would not have chosen. There are some hard things in life, and to think…God the father allows them and works in them because of his unrelenting love for each one of us. I’m still looking for the illusive bible verse that says, “Thou shalt have no discomfort.” It’s just not there.
In this issue Carey Casey, CEO of the National Center for Fathering, describes himself as the “Chief Encouragement Officer,” urging American men to step up to the plate and be “Championship Fathers.” Casey is also a member of the White House Task Force for Responsible Fatherhood and Healthy Marriage. He affirms that even secular research continues to agree with God’s word when it comes to parenting. Involved fathers play a critical role in a child’s healthy development as a human being.
The staggering statistic that 24,000,000 children in the US go to bed each night without their biological father in the home is absolutely beyond sad. In this broken world, there are just some longings that run so deep within our hearts that they are part and parcel of our DNA.
I wonder if our innate father hunger is all about our incompleteness apart from our heavenly father. Augustine said it best. “Our hearts are restless till they rest in Thee.” Indeed.
From Marilyn’s Bookshelf: Summer Reads
Crazy Love
By Francis Chan
When the Game is Over It all Goes Back in the Box
John Ortberg
Intervention
Terri Blackstock
The Cool Woman
John Aubrey Anderson
Beautiful Things Happen When a Woman Trust God
By Sheila Walsh
May 2010
For Today is the Day the Lord has Made
“Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a town and spend a year there, doing business and making money. Yet you do not even know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wishes, we will live and do this or that. As it is, you boast in your arrogance; all such boasting is evil.” James 4:13-16
I am sure the picture to the left is throwing you off and you are wondering why Marilyn (my mom) is lying in a hospital bed getting her picture taken. Well, she is not posing for the latest Belk pajama ad. Unfortunately, we had yet another tragedy strike. The first week of April I was packing for the beach, wondering if anyone made a form of liposuction I could drink, and how I was going to get a spray tan since I was going to go to dinner as soon as I got to the beach. (You can't shower for 4 hours after those things and you smell awful!).
In a matter of minutes, I received a phone call from a friend letting me know my mom was in the Emergency Room. "Bleeding on the brain " is about all we knew. My pale body, post thyroid surgery weight and thoughts of playing in the sand didn't really mean a whole lot anymore
Long story short, the month of April consisted of headaches, collapsing in a parking lot, a brain aneurysm, ICU, brain surgeries, naps in waiting room, strokes, meltdowns, tears, joys, uncertainty, family bonding and much more. In the midst of the above, I learned a very big lesson that I would like to share with you, my mom's readers. I can only imagine what she will write about when she is feeling better, but here’s my biggie. Life is Fragile. People say that, but the words were cliché for me until I realized how close I was to losing my mother. . I had my brush with death several years ago due to an infection, but I was so drugged up that I didn't know what was going on. When you are sitting across from a physician when he is explaining the details of your mother’s illness, the critical circumstances, the risks of such a surgery, you begin to think of all the things you wish you had said or had not said. You question, "What if she never comes back to this hospital room?" I thought, “I should have paid more attention to her when she was in town two weeks ago, I should have done this, that, etc.” James tried to remind us of this frailty and brevity of life in James 4:13-16.
Some of us have not learned the value of serving the Lord today and we may not have tomorrow to get our lives right with God. We need to use today to say the words we need to say to our loved ones. We need to treat each other the way we want to be treated, not assuming that we are granted time with these people tomorrow. Rather than assuming we will have more time for God and families later, we need to assume that all we have is today. Life is fragile and our time on this earth is short. Let us maximize our time so that we will not regret the life we lived.
Editor’s Note:
Dear Readers,
So far, April has been quite a ride. Living in the future tense of the magazine world is harder than ever right now. I have contributed very little to this issue although I have been high maintenance for my staff, my family, and my friends. Nothing like a brush with death to re-align one’s perspective on what matters and what does not! I wish I could say I am forever cured of shallow worries over things like dog hair and puppy prints all over the house, gray roots that cry for color, and the constant challenge of too much to do and too little time. But I’m not. I will fall into the same old traps because as long as I wear skin, I will be fighting the tendency to forget that I am an eternal spiritual being having a temporary human experience rather than the other way around. It’s not that I mind dropping the earth suit façade…I just don’t want to leave the party yet!
I am glad to be alive, glad for another fresh start in life – seems fitting that my recent health crisis occurred right here at Easter – a time of redemption and resurrection – kind of like the ultimate “do-over.”
Many thanks to Christi Steckel and all of our contributing writers who have gone the extra mile this month. I am a very blessed lady with an incredible family and many incredible friends.
Purpose, Place and Potatoes
“In the very place where God has put us, whatever its limitation, whatever kind of work it may be, we may indeed serve the Lord Christ.”
Elisabeth Elliot
When I moved to Jackson in 1971, the old Farmer’s Market on the corner of Woodrow Wilson and Northwest Street was one of the first treasures I discovered. The open air, the bins and baskets of fresh produce…it was the best part of summer for me. I may have been quite the city girl in that my mama never had a garden, but something about standing in the parking lot at the Farmer’s Market, taking in the sights and the smells made me feel incredibly proud to be Southern. And I guess if it had not been for the Farmer’s Market, I would never have learned to make cornbread! You’d think I knew something about dirt and growing tomatoes as I picked over the produce, sniffing the cantaloupes, deliberating Crowders, Pink-eyes, or Lady Peas for the dinner table! By the time my son and daughter were three years old, they were familiar with the ritual, too. Barely tall enough to peer into the bushel baskets lining the stalls, they knew how to grab a sack and fill it to overflowing with bounty. Jane Cockrell was the friend we looked for every summer, and like all of her regulars we followed her to Old Canton Road when the day came she shut down her stall at the old market.
I love that we are telling her story this month. Prepare to get a whole new perspective on life and livelihood, jobs and callings, purpose and people. I just wish we had more room to share the faith and the wisdom of this extraordinary lady.
One thing I have learned from Jane is that God does put us just where He wants us. I remember reading in one of my all time favorite books, The Red Sea Rules that God does indeed intend for us to be exactly where we are. Oh my. Sometimes I am not at all excited about that idea. But it is oh so true. And it is also quite true that God can turn a produce stand as easily as a mega church pulpit into a mission field if He chooses.
Whether you stand on your feet all day smiling while you sell tomatoes, deal with irate customers at the other end of a telephone, or get to don sequins and host the community gala, there is always more happening than the scene in front of you. It is a truly wise person who views every platform in life as an opportunity to partner with the Lord in revealing Him to whoever crosses our path. It’s a mission, a purpose, and a calling that requires more courage and stamina than anybody has within their human arsenal of strength. To be able to truthfully say, “It’s not about me,” well…it’s a new song and dance for today’s culture. But there really are a few hold-outs, and I think they are what the gospels refer to as the “salt” and “light.” There’s just that something different and when it’s real, well…we want it, too.
Not much of what we do here on earth lingers when we are gone, but a life sold out to Jesus transforms…families, friends, and self. Jane Cockrell is living proof.
I invite you to read everything in this issue. You probably notice we have a slightly different look. Christi and I have laughed calling it our “face-lift” of sorts, but you will find we are the same old comfortable friend we have always been. By the way, let us know what you think of our new size and our glossy pages. We are hoping you keep us on your coffee table, share us with friends, and continue to give us your thoughts.
Like my friend Jane Cockrell says to everyone, “We appreciate you.”
March 2010
Leadership…What’s it to You?
The greatest among you shall be your servant. Matthew 23:11
High profile scandals of every kind filled newspaper headlines and gave fodder to the talk show hosts during the entire first decade of the 21st Century. From board rooms to the church to the halls of
government, there was an epidemic of dishonorable conduct reported every other week. Or so it seemed. There was hardly an institution unscathed giving us reason to ask, “What happened to leadership?”
But since you have MCL in your hand, just get ready to be encouraged.
In this issue, we introduce you to our 2010 Class of Christian Leaders of the Future. In partnership with Belhaven University and with the support of an outstanding group of sponsors, the 21 students we honor in this issue were chosen from well over a hundred scholarship applicants who answered some rather thoughtful questions about their personal Christian walk. Every one of our five judges told me, “I didn’t know this would be so hard!” I wish every reader could peruse the essays of all 100+. Their journeys are filled with experiences of triumph over adversity, purpose, perseverance; a love for Jesus and a desire to serve him that reflect a spiritual maturity well beyond their years.
Like many of you, I tuned into the Super Bowl and found myself caught up in the Drew Brees phenomenon – the classic All-American tale of a comeback career that seemed every bit impossible a few short years ago. I had just read his faith story in the February issue of Sharing the Victory, the Fellowship of Christian Athletes publication. Drew said his up-close and personal walk with the Lord began on his 17th birthday when the pastor of his church presented Jesus Christ as the leader who was
looking for “a few good men.” He made the decision to be one and has never looked back – even when a serious shoulder injury caused almost every team in the NFL to count him out. You get the feeling that Brees was willing to let the football dream go in a heartbeat if God had other plans for his life. He learned to lead by following the best of them – Jesus.
I have spent the last few days reading everything I could find on the subject of leadership – and I mean everything – from Dr. Seuss’s Yertle the Turtle, the tale of a tyrant who squashes his friends on his way to the top, to more grown up versions of the same subject in articles like “The Leadership Crisis of Moral and Cultural Relativism” – but I actually caught on quicker to what a leader is NOT via Dr. Seuss.
I am still trying to get my thoughts around the word, but when it comes to the effective qualities of leadership, Jesus is, hands down, the greatest leader of all time. Those who aspire to lead would do well to study him. There is a mistaken notion in our world that leadership is all about authority over others. In a world attracted to glitz and impressed by the superficial trappings of fame and fortune, I guess a title and a position of leadership can become a snare for many a person in search of power and a sense of importance – be it ever so phony.
And then, here stands Jesus…not exactly your cover guy for the next edition of People magazine. He was a radical for sure, but in a very un-flashy and dash kind of way. I would say his was the greatest comeback of all time. Most of my life I have recited the Apostles Creed every Sunday and most times, I have gone through the familiar words like a robot. However…”On the third day he arose from the dead…” How could that thought ever become stale? 2000 years later, his he church is still making a difference in the world as those who have identified with him in a real way continue to stand out in a crowd. It’s hard to ignore authenticity, humility, compassion and love when it’s right in the middle of the everyday ordinary. How very extraordinary.
Along the way, great leaders are called to a “great” (excuse the pun) deal of foot washing, being last instead of first, considering the needs of others, dying to self and a lot more “it’s not about me” kinds of things. It’s a tough call to be a real leader – in a family, in the marketplace, or anywhere else.
The standards are high. The challenge is great. The rewards? Not always immediate. But for sure, there is a spiritual, soul-filled component in the mix. And those who have done it successfully will tell you, it’s way better than winning the Mercedes behind the curtain.
Love Letters Straight From the Heart
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end. -Lamentations 3:22.
It was 2001. My sister and I had just made the agonizing decision to place our mother in a nursing home. Dementia was stealing a part of her each and every day, and she required round-the-clock care. Sandwiched and stacked in my garage were what was left of 92 years of collecting and chronicling her life. The boxes and spare furniture covered every square inch. We spent hours going through those boxes—yearbooks, papers, newspaper articles, and family Bibles. We laughed at old photos, vintage clothing, and scavenged through many a big brown envelope filled with our horrendous school day pictures, piano recital programs, report cards, and letters from camp—even a Christening gown and a Brownie Scout beanie from the 1950s. Mama was quite a packrat—she was also one who would not have traded the content of those boxes for anything money could buy—diamonds, furs, and mansions included.
As our sorting continued, we came across a bit of history we had never seen—a bundle of letters tied in ribbon—love letters our daddy wrote to her during their engagement and others a few years later during World War II. It was like finding a part of our mother we had never known—and yet had always known. The paper was brittle and yellowed. Daddy’s familiar flowing script made this find all the more precious to both of us. Somehow, I think a stack of e-mails would not have had the same effect.
That generation we call the “Greatest” were masters of handwritten and heartfelt correspondence. We could all take lessons. Little did my father know that in revealing his affection for his bride, he revealed much about himself—about his faith and his character. Through his written word, our father continues his influence in his daughters’ lives; A legacy in a way. Pretty cool.
I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor and read the letters again this morning. Despite the fact that most of the postmarks are 1938, I can hear my father’s voice in every phrase. And I feel as connected as ever to the parents who gave me life and more confident than ever that love, as surely as God’s word tells us again and again and again, never ends (1 Corinthians 13, Psalm 136). And to think what seems like the strong and forever after love that my father had for my mother…well, it’s just a weak replica of Christ’s love for His bride, the Church.
It’s not an original analogy to compare the Bible to a love letter. But the concept resonates with me in a particularly big way at the moment. For wisdom, direction and every small, as well as significant dilemma of life, our Father in heaven has provided His own up close and personal correspondence, steeped in the most profound love story of all time and complete with roadmap to show us the way, to keep us near while apart, and to insure that we never doubt His love or His character.
One of my all time favorite preachers, teachers, and theologians is Steve Brown of Key Life Ministries. He says we can only love to the degree that we have been loved. If that is true, then, it would seem we have been issued a blank check...All we have to do is respond. From God’s heart to your heart…you’ve got mail.
For God so loved the world that He gave His only son that whosoever believeth in Him should have everlasting life. -John 3:16.
Love Letters Straight From the Heart
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end. -Lamentations 3:22.
It was 2001. My sister and I had just made the agonizing decision to place our mother in a nursing home. Dementia was stealing a part of her each and every day, and she required round-the-clock care. Sandwiched and stacked in my garage were what was left of 92 years of collecting and chronicling her life. The boxes and spare furniture covered every square inch. We spent hours going through those boxes—yearbooks, papers, newspaper articles, and family Bibles. We laughed at old photos, vintage clothing, and scavenged through many a big brown envelope filled with our horrendous school day pictures, piano recital programs, report cards, and letters from camp—even a Christening gown and a Brownie Scout beanie from the 1950s. Mama was quite a packrat—she was also one who would not have traded the content of those boxes for anything money could buy—diamonds, furs, and mansions included.
As our sorting continued, we came across a bit of history we had never seen—a bundle of letters tied in ribbon—love letters our daddy wrote to her during their engagement and others a few years later during World War II. It was like finding a part of our mother we had never known—and yet had always known. The paper was brittle and yellowed. Daddy’s familiar flowing script made this find all the more precious to both of us. Somehow, I think a stack of e-mails would not have had the same effect.
That generation we call the “Greatest” were masters of handwritten and heartfelt correspondence. We could all take lessons. Little did my father know that in revealing his affection for his bride, he revealed much about himself—about his faith and his character. Through his written word, our father continues his influence in his daughters’ lives; A legacy in a way. Pretty cool.
I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor and read the letters again this morning. Despite the fact that most of the postmarks are 1938, I can hear my father’s voice in every phrase. And I feel as connected as ever to the parents who gave me life and more confident than ever that love, as surely as God’s word tells us again and again and again, never ends (1 Corinthians 13, Psalm 136). And to think what seems like the strong and forever after love that my father had for my mother…well, it’s just a weak replica of Christ’s love for His bride, the Church.
It’s not an original analogy to compare the Bible to a love letter. But the concept resonates with me in a particularly big way at the moment. For wisdom, direction and every small, as well as significant dilemma of life, our Father in heaven has provided His own up close and personal correspondence, steeped in the most profound love story of all time and complete with roadmap to show us the way, to keep us near while apart, and to insure that we never doubt His love or His character.
One of my all time favorite preachers, teachers, and theologians is Steve Brown of Key Life Ministries. He says we can only love to the degree that we have been loved. If that is true, then, it would seem we have been issued a blank check...All we have to do is respond. From God’s heart to your heart…you’ve got mail.
For God so loved the world that He gave His only son that whosoever believeth in Him should have everlasting life. -John 3:16.
Courageous Choices in the New Year
…I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. -Deuteronomy 30:19-20.
S igns of the Christmas season gradually disappear from store fronts and neighborhoods. The white lights, garland and Christmas trees we were so eager to embrace a few weeks ago are packed away or thrown to the curb awaiting the garbage truck. If you venture into the marketplace, you notice “Frosty the Snowman” is no longer ringing through the politically correct world of retail. A brief week of collegiate bowl games and leftover turkey will give way to blaring strains of Auld Lang Syne—soon to be replaced by the battery of pop, country, hip hop and mindless background noise that we call “grocery store music.” And with that, regular life begins again—in all its pressure, challenge, uncertainty, possibilities and potential.
I say “potential” because as 2010 begins, despite facing a world that feels more out of control than usual, we still get to make choices—choices that seem small in the moment, but many small choices, one upon the other, determine the course of our lives. We map out our goals and resolutions here at the starting line of 2010. Whether it is a deeper prayer life or a diet and exercise program, success involves a 365 day journey of little steps along the way. Small choices in actions and attitudes can yield big blessings…as well as big consequences.
But there will be so many circumstances and events along our paths this year that we cannot begin to know at the start. What we do know is that in this fallen world, along with joy and blessing come times of trial, too. Like the frightened disciples in the middle of the storm, we are all caught at times in painful experiences we would never have chosen. And because of such a truth, the most significant choice any of us can make is to take hold of the Savior’s hand and walk courageously into this New Year confident that He who dwells in our very being is stronger than any giant we may encounter on the road ahead. His grace is, indeed, sufficient.
I love this statement that is sometimes attributed to Corrie Ten Boom: “Each of us may be sure that if God sends us on stony paths He will provide us with strong shoes, and He will not send us out on any journey for which He does not equip us well.”
I cannot think of a better Metro Christian Living January issue than this one. There is a truck load of good news within these covers! If the excesses of America’s corporate world have turned you slightly cynical, you will certainly be inspired and encouraged when you meet Joel and Rachel Bomgar. They are a breath of fresh air as well as the most amazing example of salt and light I have run across lately.
January is Sanctity of Life month, and Terri Herring, Director of Choose Life, reminds us of the most vulnerable among us. Susan Deaver’s “Daily Bread” in “man on the street” style gives us a perspective on keeping the faith day by day. Healthy Living, Food for Thought, Homeworks, Welcome Home, and Fresh Finds are all some of the best we’ve ever done. From books to backpacks (Living My Call), we have packed in ideas and inspiration for your best New Year’s launch ever.
Kari and Christi join me in wishing you, dear reader, a Happy New Year. We treasure your trust and your friendship. Drop us a note or an e-mail. Your thoughts and opinions and suggestions will find willing ears over here!
Editor’s Pick
My Grandmother Is…Praying for Me
Written by three grandmothers who prayerfully considered how God might use them in their grandchildren’s lives, this is a daily prayer book. 365 prayers, Proverbs, Scriptures, and activities to enrich your relationship with grandchildren and keep them close to your heart all year long.
Available at www.mygrandmotheris.com ($19.99 plus shipping and handling)
No Room
How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given. So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of his heaven. No ear may hear his coming, but in this world of sin, Where meek souls will receive him still, the dear Christ enters in. (from O Little Town of Bethlehem—Brooks)
Christi Steckel recently handed me an unfamiliar Christian women’s publication and pointed out one particular article. The title was “Filling our Spiritual Space,” and it answered the question, “Beyond consumerism and busyness, how can we fill our lives with God’s grace?” The writer says that Christians, for the most part, buy the books and attend the workshops in an effort to discover a sense of serenity in the middle of the every day, but we fail miserably reaching for formulas to stop the run-away train that is life in the here and now. “Amen, Sister,” I thought. I have re-read the writer’s thoughts about 10 times. I wish I could take a syringe and inject her every word into my veins!
Help! And never more than at Christmas do I want to turn off the world, calm the voices of “hurry” and “deadlines,” and not have to shop for gifts for people who already have crowded closets, full pantries, and enjoy abundant blessings even during a recession. I am tempted to scream, “Stop! I can’t find Jesus in all the noise and all the pressure of the season.” Do I sound like Ebenezer Scrooge? I guess I do.
And so, today, I have had a true “Mary” day even though it is mid-November as I write. I sat in my office and was very, very quiet. Remember those sisters Mary and Martha? I admit I am a recovering Martha. I imagine her—slaving over the details, demanding her little sister’s compliance in the kitchen. Mary, on the other hand, would not be the gal you wanted as your co-chairman on any committee even if her only duty was making slice-and-bake cookies for 4-year-olds. She gets distracted by eternity. Oh my.
Christmas is a true Mary and Martha occasion, and the way we “do” Christmas these days can easily fill up all the space of life—so much so that we miss completely that “one needful thing,” for which Jesus commended Mary. It was all about Him, and He is the One Person in all of time and space who has the right to make it all about Him. The trouble is, He rarely forces His way in. Only a well guarded spiritual space is ready to receive Him.
Martha knows, too, everything that Mary knows. However, she intends to have her quiet moments with the Lord when everything is done. And her “to do” list is endless. She’s making her list and checking it…constantly…and there is no peace in her heart or in her home.
As I contemplated the evasive “space and time” issue, I also thought about the strange connection with the Christmas Story itself and the fact that there was simply no room in the inn by the time Joseph and Mary arrived that night. Joseph could not exactly call ahead to reserve a room and put it on his American Express card. The treacherous 80 miles between Nazareth and Bethlehem was a 10 day journey in those days.
And then to arrive bone tired and in the throes of labor only to discover there was no available hotel room anywhere. No room. The theme echoes through the ages. He’s used to being ignored. It has become increasingly difficult, as well as politically incorrect, to fit Jesus into the “holiday season” extravaganza. Is it possible to rediscover the “one needful thing?” Jesus told the contentious Martha that Mary’s one needful thing “would not be taken from her.” You mean it is a gift that lasts, one that will never break, fade, disappear, or wear out?
So, here’s Christmas…simplified. God loved. God put on skin and came to visit as the most expensive and extravagant Gift ever given. He was wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a crude feeding trough. Why did God do it just that way? Maybe so that we never quite get over the fact that God would enter the world in such an unexpected way. If we search for the “one needful thing” it will still fill us with wonder and amazement that He was willing to do so at all.
So, start reading. It is our sincere wish that you find ideas on the practical as well as words that spur reflection along your personal Christmas journey. I pray we each cling wholeheartedly to Jesus as we seek “the one needful thing” that lasts forever.
Merry Christmas.
Editor’s pick
A Simple Christmas by Mike Huckabee
If you’re over 40, Governor Huckabee’s new book will bring back memories of Christmas pasts and life in a small Southern town. From snooping for hidden Santa Claus gifts to the descriptions of aunts, uncles, cousins, and a few eccentric relatives who dot the Christmas memories of our lives, this is a purely refreshing read.
What’s Your Kavanah Today?
From the rising of the sun to its setting, the name of the Lord is to be praised. -Psalm 113:3
It was the first crisp morning of the fall when the words above began to echo through my mind. The leaves had not begun to turn, but the chill that sent me back into the house for a jacket was a certain reminder that the colors of fall were not far away. I barely remember learning that Psalm, but on my walk around the neighborhood that particular day, my heart was suddenly filled with a sense of the Father’s presence, and there seemed to be no static on the lines between my less than eloquent prayers and heaven. Have you had those moments when God just surprises you with a fresh sense of the wonder of Himself? It feels like a hug even when you didn’t realize you needed one in just that way at just that moment. Several weeks have passed since that morning, but the memory is fresh.
I think the reason that morning stands out in my mind is this. It comforted me in the middle of the day’s headlines describing a world of chaos and uncertainty and conflict and fear of the future. It was as though God Himself had stepped in to remind me that He is true to His word—that He still goes before His people into battle and that He is still Ruler over all things.
I am thankful this season for many blessings—the obvious ones of family, friends, meaningful work, and a few luxuries that I sometimes begin to think of as entitlements rather than blessings. But more than all else today, I am thankful that very near the beginning of my life’s journey, God stirred my heart to know Him through Jesus Christ.
Several months ago our regular contributing writer Susan Richardson recommended a book Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus. She was especially excited by this one, and so I bought it. It took two readings to begin to grasp all that was there explaining much of Jewish customs and the story behind the stories and symbols that found their way into our Christian belief. I love it when truths intersect down through generations, cultures, and different writers and teachers.
I discovered the word, “kavanah” and just have to ask you readers, “How’s your kavanah today?” Literally, the word means “intention,” and First Century Jews used it to refer to an intentional focus of attention and concentration on being in the presence of God. The thought reminds me of the discovery I made a few months ago in the book by Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God. It’s not rocket science, but how easy it is to forget to remember that the most significant dimension of the life in the here and now is lived in conscious fellowship with the One who has been with us from the start and will be with us for all eternity. It’s way too early for a New Year’s Resolution, but why wait till then anyway? I am working on my kavanah right now. How about you?
We have looked forward to this issue for months. It was a thrill to speak with Mike Huckabee. There is so much more that I could say about him than what we were able to cover in the space allotted to the story. Whatever your political views, I would recommend his book Do the Right Thing as insight into the unassuming but authentic way he walks his talk.
There is great variety in this issue—a sure cover to cover read. People are forever asking me, “How do you keep coming up with these stories?” The answer is really that we don’t. The stories find us through people who read MCL and contact us to say, “You ought to meet my friend…You just won’t believe her story.” And so it goes month after month.
When you tell us that the stories bless you, let me assure you they bless us even more. In between the hassle of deadlines is the realization that if one of us faints dead away in the middle of the office, the others will just have to step around the body till we get the magazine to print! Well, maybe we aren’t that awful, but some months we get weighed down with life and stuff and interruptions and we get quite discouraged wondering why we do this at all. But reading the stories of people like Richard and Christi Price or Richard and Wendy Heuer and others who also overcome adversity, who keep the faith, and who honor Christ above all…that’s what really keeps us going and committed to our calling in this little niche of the world.
Enjoy Thanksgiving this year, and if you want to really experience it in the best way imaginable, hold on to your kavanah!
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. -Philippians 4:6-7
Thanksgiving ideas:
- Pray for our troops
- Enlist your family and a few friends to cook or serve at the Salvation Army (601-982-4881)
- Write a letter to a missionary
- Visit someone who is shut-in or alone
- Perform those random acts of kindness
- Mend a relationship that has been damaged
Special Needs…Are Yours any Different than Mine?
Emily Perl Kingsley, award winning writer for the Children’s Television Network was crafting Sesame Street when she gave birth to a baby boy with Down syndrome in 1974. Doctors advised the Kingsleys to find a good institution and try not to let this child interrupt their “normal” little bubble. The Kingsleys listened and then chose an opposite route with their little boy, and the accomplishments of one Mr. Jason Kingsley have astounded the physicians who assessed his challenges in 1974 (Just Google his name).
Emily, who became a terrific advocate for special needs children, wrote a profound piece explaining what it is like to look forward to the arrival of a much longed for child. As expectant mothers we buy the books; we take the classes; we set up the nursery with plush snuggly animals and music boxes that play lullabies. We buy the classics that every child should know, and we gaze at the doll-like clothes that will one day hug the tiny body of our own miracle. When the day finally comes for that child to be born, we think we truly understand the words in the 23rd Psalm: “My cup runneth over.”
And then…for so many…the news. There is something that we did not expect. Kingsley’s analogy of hearing the diagnosis Down syndrome for the first time is described as something like planning a trip to Italy, marking all the sites to see, researching the best restaurants, boarding the plane—only to arrive in Holland, not Italy. Holland is a beautiful place, too, but it takes learning a new language, having a new set of expectations, and as one listens to the conversations all around from friends whose vacations did take them to Italy, there is a touch of sadness that lingers.
Though you would never trade that Holland experience, you wonder what Italy might have been for you.
Even without a special needs child—and have you thought about this—in the eyes of God, there is no other kind—most of us have a hole or two in our hearts that just lingers when we accept that some dreams and some plans and some goals are just not going to happen in this life.
There are places in my life where I have wondered…“Hmmm, God what were you thinking? I asked for this and got this…Why this?”
I have read enough anguish in the Psalms to know I am not the lone ranger when it comes to wondering “why” at times. And yet, I trust Him. I trust him even if I had not lived a crazy life filled with His unusual timing and interventions.
Jump up and down all day long. God is not impressed. His plans are His plans and His ways are His ways. The good part is that His faithfulness has no expiration date and his compassions…like the hymn says…they fail not. Exhale. It is going to be OK. We don’t know how…or when…or what “OK” is going to look like. We just know, it WILL be OK.
The Bob Wilkerson family shares with us this month their story of finding themselves in that strange place of “special needs.” The team effort, support, and total commitment on the part of every family member is a story of faithfulness—two-fold—God’s incredible faithfulness and theirs in return. And they learned it would all be different from what they envisioned…but indeed it would be OK.
I have a wonderful friend named Shirley who tells a funny story of her once upon a time little girl who was intent on learning the words of all the familiar hymns. She was more than serious about them. One day she belted forth with a familiar favorite. Trust and Obey was a top 10 in her hit parade. Mary Kelly had the concept but confused the words. “Trust and OK…FOR THERE’S NO OTHER WAY…” I kind of laugh every time I sing that hymn because I remember the story. I believe Mary Kelly got it so right regardless of her scrambled words. Trust and OK…it works—through every challenge, disappointment, upset dream and real life event…it just works.
Back to School…Ready, Willing, and Focused
 |
My God, since You are with me, and since it is Your will that I should apply my mind to these outward things, I pray that You will give me the grace to remain with You and keep company with You. But so that my work may be better, Lord, work with me. Receive my work and possess all my affections... -Brother Lawrence (1614-1691) |
Interviewing our four school principals featured in this month’s Back to School issue brought back a lot of memories for me. Fifty-two years ago I was a first grader. Clinging to my mother’s coattail, I was taller by a head than anyone else in my class and as frightened as I have ever been of anything in life! I quickly discovered it was grand to be so grown up, to sit at the small tables with my friends, to play on the big playground, to drink chocolate milk from little cardboard cartons during the 9:00 recess, and to sometimes get to ride my bike to school all by myself.
In elementary school, I loved everything about the new school year—from buying a brand new pair of school shoes at Mrs. Wiggers’ shoe store to walking the aisles of our local Morgan & Lindsay dime store selecting a blue backed three ring binder, a fresh box of #2 pencils, and a new box of Crayolas with sharp points making it so easy to color inside the lines. The week before school began my grandmother always sent a brown paper package tied several times over with string. She, the seamstress extraordinaire, had designed and sewn my new school clothes—several dark cotton dresses complete with short puffy sleeves and sashes that tied in a bow. They may not have been designer couture, but I never knew it. I could hardly wait for the school bell to ring just so I could wear them.
I have vivid memories of my school years including those significant others God planted along the journey who encouraged my desire to learn, who challenged me to do more than I thought I could do, who comforted me in the moments I fell on my face and cheered me in the moments I achieved. Teachers who teach because they love children AND recognize that teachable moments go way beyond math or English or ACT scores. They do more for a child’s soul than all the A’s on a report card could ever do for one’s resume. And I had a lot of those kinds of teachers…as well as school principals who seemed larger than life and by their very authority conveyed some special sense of blessing as they walked the halls and peeked into the classroom.
It is during our school years, somewhere between life as a snaggle toothed first grader and a know-it-all teenager, that we discover who we really are. If we are blessed to have in our corner a personal “cheering section” of teachers, coaches, and school administrators—or scout leaders and youth ministers—we get an inkling that we just might have within us some potential to become so much more than we ever dreamed.
Those adults extend supernatural grace to overlook at the appropriate times either our timidity or our sheer arrogance, love us where we are and pray for what, with God’s direction, we might possibly become.
Parents have a daunting task these days. The time is short and the years are few. It is so easy to become distracted by the urgent demands of every day and completely miss the larger picture that is the building and equipping of a human being. As a veteran mother with a long list of mess-ups, my advice is to major on the majors and be wise enough to let the minors go.
This past January when I was feeling an incredible amount of pressure to be all things to all people, I ran across a book of my husband’s and put it in my “stack.” The Practice of the Presence of God was written by Brother Lawrence, a 16th century Carmelite monk. He is known for having learned the secret of daily, moment by moment fellowship with God.
Brother Lawrence says that our God is not confined to a compartment on the daily time sheet. He is always here, always with us, and longs for us to “keep company” with Him in the midst of our daily tasks. My prayer for all of us as we begin this new school year, another chapter of our personal journeys, is that our heart, eyes and ears find His hand and discern His voice in the holy ordinary places of every single day.
Editor’s Pick
The Practice of the Presence of God
Brother Lawrence
In the middle of the routine, boring, and mundane tasks of life, there really can be a passion and excitement when you realize God is on the interstate of life with you. In the detours, the potholes, and even the times when all seems smooth, He is longing for the pleasure of your company.
God is our refuge and strength
I used to have really thin skin. If I had a dime for every time an important person in my life told me I was “too sensitive” I would be living on the French Riviera. My daddy’s standard advice followed me into my adult years. “Keep a high head and a stern rudder.” It was Daddy’s attempt at being practical AND tender. He recognized that my strength was also my weakness. I could flat cry over anything.
The high head probably had to do with being Southern. Just maintain that Scarlett O’Hara stoic look of control. Maybe it used to be some kind of badge, but I threw that advice out the window a long time ago. I was born with the “gift” of being able to sob my way through every Walt Disney animal movie ever made and don’t get me started on the other things that make me cry—music, poetry, paintings, movies, sunrises, early mornings with a Bible verse that jumps off the page and a good cup of coffee in my hand at the same time!
Now what did this Mississippi Delta girl know about rudders? Not one thing. Still, I remember my father’s advice all the time and smile when I do. The funny thing is I just googled rudder tonight for the first time ever. I am 58. My dad died when I was 27. Most of that repetitive advice came during my teen years when I guess I cried a lot—over everything hormonal teenage girls can cry about.
For all of you other illiterate sailors, rudders are what help you manage your boat when the wind is strong, the waves are high, and you are clearly not in control of the situation—a constant and never ending theme in my life. But I think I have sort of caught on in the last few decades.
I received two e-mails the other day that might have undone me a few years ago. One was from a reader who had picked up the magazine for the first time and felt we did not represent enough diversity of race. The other was also from a first time reader who felt that we did not speak the word Jesus enough between our pages. He ended his email saying I should change our title to Metro God Living—“whatever that means,” he said. I thought about a good hard cry, but instead, I took that thought with me to the shower (my second best thinking spot—the first being lying in bed wide awake at 2 a.m.).
A few e-mails later I think I might have two new friends. It was better to dialogue than to cry. It was better to look for common ground than to be defensive. It was better to gain two new friends in Christ than to lose either because of false assumptions and incomplete pictures.
A few months ago as I was rereading one of my all time favorite books, I came across a bit of wisdom I had missed at first. Paula Rinehart quotes Psalm 46 in Better than My Dreams. The first few verses tell us that though the earth basically comes apart at the seams (is it just me or do you feel like it is more apart these days than usual?) God is still our refuge and strength. But I never really paid attention to the last verse, “The Lord of Hosts is with us (i.e. Jesus); the God of Jacob is our fortress.”
Paula also points out that the God of Jacob is the most often used term for God in the Old Testament. Are you kidding?
If you went to Sunday school as much as I did in my childhood, you know the story of Jacob. He was not the model child. He probably did not make Eagle Scout and I can’t think of any award he deserved. He basically stole his twin brother’s inheritance and wasn’t too repentant for the next several decades. When the day of reckoning came and he had to meet up with his brother, he spent a whole night wrestling with God about it. The result was he lost, God won and Jacob walked with a limp the rest of his life.
But beyond those surface facts is this truth. God loved Jacob. With all his lying and deceit and mess ups, God loved him. The point is that God—the perfect God of the universe—does not want any of us to miss the biggie: He is the God of broken people.
I had breast cancer in 2006 and I am reminded of that every single day of my life. (It is quite apparent to me…believe me…I can’t miss the reality.) I can only imagine that Jacob’s limp was a sort of lasting reminder too. Most of us have reminders in some broken part of us that the God of Jacob is our God, too. And yes, the first part of the verse is the best part—the Lord of Hosts is with us. And that fact, dear doubting reader, would be Jesus.
Psalm 139 says, “Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence?”
I have a multitude of friends who are going through the worst of times this very minute—from cancer to the most frightening of financial uncertainties to broken hearts and broken relationships, personal failures and just hard, hard stuff. Personally, as a business woman who never set out to be a business woman at all, times are scary. But the God of Jacob reminds me I have a Father who has engraved my name on the palms of His own hands, who knows and understands my most broken places and who has promised to never leave me or forsake me. I suddenly feel quite secure and very, very loved.
__________________________________
Five Lessons I Never Meant to Learn (But thank you, Lord, I did)
1. Pay attention. God never wastes any experience in our lives.
2. Surround yourself with “life-giving” relationships—people who are “for” you.
3. Do not compare yourself with others. You are unique...for a reason.
4. Allow margins in your life. Do not schedule your life away as a “Martha.” Create some “Mary” time.
5. Prepare for the storms of life while the sun is still shining. The only sure thing is that the storms are going to come. In the middle of the loud distracting world you live in, find time to be still and KNOW that HE is God (Psalm 46:10).
November Letter
October Letter
September Letter
|
