Tag Archives: value

The holiness of a four-way stop

It’s rush hour on my usually-quiet suburban street. Well, maybe not rush “hour”, exactly. It’s really only about 15 minutes.

From around 7:10 to 7:25 most every morning during the school year, the street in front of my house is bumper to bumper with high school students trying to get to classes on time.

IMG_3496bfree-largeSchool starts at 7:30 and they’re lined up at the four-way stop, struggling to properly yield the right of way to each other (as they oh-so-recently learned in driver’s ed). Now and then, I hear someone sound their horn over whatever perceived infraction just took place. That usually happens as it gets closer to 7:30 and the possibility of being late becomes more real.

Oh, and sympathies to you if you have to back out of your driveway during that time frame. Taking turns and being nice apparently only applied to kindergarten. I may have muttered about this from time to time over the years…

Interestingly, I’ve found that there’s something positive and even holy about this brief traffic jam in front of my house each morning. It gives me an opportunity to see the individual young faces in those cars and wonder if anyone has prayed for them yet today. Maybe not. (I’m thinking, most likely not.) So lately, I’ve started praying.

I start with the obvious prayers like,

Lord, please keep these young people safe at school today, encourage them to be responsible and make wise choices, protect them from peer pressure, help them learn and grow into good citizens.

Then it goes a little deeper:

Let them know that they have value, surprise them with encouragement today from an unexpected source, give them courage for whatever battle they face, make them sensitive to the pain of the marginalized around them.

Ultimately, and arguably most important, I arrive here:

Let them recognize Your hand on their lives, soften their hearts toward faith, welcome them into a relationship with You.

Even if you don’t live near a high school or have teenagers in your life currently, they’re out there–I see them every day from my living room window–and they could use your prayers. Adolescence is a tumultuous time, you may recall, and this rough world isn’t getting any better any time soon.

For sure, if you have a student at the high school in my town and they drive past my house in the morning, you can know they’re going to get prayed for. Maybe running late and getting stuck in traffic at the four-way stop isn’t the worst thing for them, after all.

And for me, it beats muttering.

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He’d probably be surprised that I still remember this

My dad was behind his desk hard at work when I walked into his office that day after junior high. At the sound of my voice his face softened into a smile and he looked up.

The order of that was especially meaningful to me:

He smiled.

And then he looked up.

To my young heart, that said he had welcomed me even before he made eye contact with me.  In that moment, I felt secure and valued by my dad; I knew he was glad to receive me and was interested to hear whatever I had to say. All these years later, I can still see his reaction in my mind and feel the love in that gesture. (He probably wouldn’t think there was anything remarkable about it; that was just his way.)

This morning that memory flooded back to me when I read this verse in the Psalms:

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Continue reading He’d probably be surprised that I still remember this

Revisiting the Dog-Eared Days

When I was in school, we weren’t allowed to fold down the corners of any pages in the textbooks we were assigned or mark them up in any way.

Folding the page corners gave the book permanent creases, we were told, and made it look tattered, even abused. Since the school had to make them last, our teachers sternly warned against careless or rough treatment.

Just to be sure we complied, our names were recorded next to some identifying number for these particular books and we were warned we’d have to pay for any damage – other than “normal wear and tear” – if we defaced them. The same applied to library books.

So at the beginning of each school year, my sister and I could be found cross-legged on the family room floor, dutifully fashioning protective covers for those textbooks out of paper grocery bags.

Truthfully, I always liked getting a book that already had a little mileage on it. It told me that someone before me had found parts of it useful and suggested perhaps I would, too. At a minimum, it told me I could probably use the book without freaking out if I dropped it or spilled something on it.

IMG_5431These days, if I feel like dog-earing one of my books, I do it freely (I know, that’s like fingernails on a chalkboard to some – don’t judge). I fold the page corners to help me find the passages I want to return to, even if it means the book now has flaws that would disqualify it from being resold. The places I’ve marked lead me back to what strikes me as memorable.

Frankly, if the book is interesting enough for me to want to refer back to it, I’m not likely to want to part with it anyway. If I’ve borrowed someone else’s book, I’ve been known to return it and then buy my own copy just so I can crease and highlight to my heart’s content.  Continue reading Revisiting the Dog-Eared Days

What’s Missing in the Parable of the Lost Sheep

sheepThe sheep is just doing what sheep do. It’s probably picking its way along an uneven path, following the ewe ahead of it, and somehow misses its footing on the side of a hillock. It could be injured from the fall or maybe caught in brambles at the bottom, but regardless, now it is alone and vulnerable. Time is of the essence.

When the shepherd realizes one of his flock is missing, he has to act quickly; he has a very narrow window of opportunity. He knows the other sheep will instinctively huddle together as a group and be safe, at least temporarily, so he hurries off to find the lost animal before it is picked off by a predator.

This is the part I love about the Biblical account in Luke’s gospel:
When the shepherd spots the missing sheep, Continue reading What’s Missing in the Parable of the Lost Sheep

How the high school track team reminds me of God’s faithfulness

IMG_3625For 24 years, I’ve lived about a 7-iron shot from the local high school. (If I were a decent golfer, it might be a chip shot, but hey.) I hear the marching band practicing all summer; in the fall, I hear the announcer on the PA calling the football games. I watch the before and after-school traffic jams throughout the winter. Soon I feel a bittersweet pang as I hear names being read off in that same stadium during graduation.

I love high school kids, always have. There’s something so endearing and vulnerable about them, even when they’re posturing and trying to be cool. They’re all insecure, some just hide it better than others. I get that.

When I first moved here, I would get irritated when kids threw trash from their cars as they sped past my house; now, I’m alarmed to see them texting as they go by, still speeding (some things don’t change). And sadly, there’s a whole bullying drama unfolding in my neighborhood lately that has a dark edge to it. That makes me angry…and sad. Continue reading How the high school track team reminds me of God’s faithfulness

The Guest I Hope Never Leaves

IMG_2355It’s foggy. The air is warm and thick. Below, the surface of the lake is perfectly still, the silence broken only by the occasional splash of a fish snagging a morning morsel or the whisper of wings skimming by.

I’m sipping my coffee across from an empty patio chair and a thought jerks me aware: What if Christ were sitting there, relaxing with a mug of Columbian deep roast in His hand and half a smile on His face? The incarnate God of the universe, choosing to spend a companionable moment with me at a simple plastic table?

I’m immediately humbled – and ashamed.

There are so many other places He could be and way more interesting people to enjoy a brand new day with. There are desperate souls with crushing problems and entire governments unravelling even now. I’m stunned that He would stop by here and I think, I shouldn’t be taking up His time. I don’t deserve Him.

I almost tell Him so; but I stop.

What if this is exactly where He wants to be right now? What if He intentionally opted to be here and His presence at my table doesn’t diminish His impact (or limit His intervention) elsewhere?

Well, obviously, I’d close this laptop and give Him my full attention. I wouldn’t be planning out the rest of my day, giving in to distractions, and letting my mind wander. For sure, I wouldn’t be glancing at my phone every time it buzzed.

And I’d certainly know better than to fret about my loved ones and call it prayer.

My shame at being in His presence turns to relief. I’m so glad He’s here. Tears well up in my eyes and overflow freely down my cheeks. He reaches over to touch my soggy face and in that healing moment, I exhale.

He smiles; He knows me so well. And He asks for a refill.

 

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A song that could have been written about my Dad

7Today is my Dad’s 91st birthday and there’s a Christian song so reflective of his life, it could have been written specifically about him. After I tell you a bit of his story, I think you’ll agree.

The fact that he’s lived 91 years is remarkable in and of itself. This is a guy whose fragile health as a child had doctors predicting he would never reach adulthood.

Eighty or so years and several health crises later, he still preaches at his church, shares his faith anytime there’s an “open door”, joins his friends for breakfast twice a week, and until recently was a chaplain on call at the local hospital.

And all that barely scratches the surface of the schedule he keeps. Continue reading A song that could have been written about my Dad

The best nickname God ever gave me

sheep_face1There are lots of metaphors in the Bible to describe how God sees us: we are sheep, chicks, branches, servants, friends, brothers, beloved, children, a mist, and more.

But my favorite is one that might actually be considered a slam by some. In fact, that’s pretty much the point and why I like it; there’s a whole lesson wrapped up in this one nickname. Continue reading The best nickname God ever gave me

When I am at my meanest

Yesterday my to-do list included mailing in my quarterly State and Federal income taxes. I detest writing those checks but I detest putting them in the mailbox even more. Still, I am a rule follower. Whether or not I like how the government spends my tax dollars, I always pay my fair share and I do it on time.

Until I didn’t.

wide eyeImagine my dismay when I pulled out my file and Continue reading When I am at my meanest

On a scale of “1 to Larry”

I spent what seemed like a year sharing a ride to the office with a very extroverted coworker awhile back.

hide faceUnderstand, even after several cups of coffee, I’m still not – shall we say – “bubbly” first thing in the morning.

As soon as I got in the car with him, he was “on”. Hoping he would take a hint, I remember saying, “Gee, Larry*, you’re kind of a morning person, aren’t you?” His response: Continue reading On a scale of “1 to Larry”