On Edge

Early this month, I read several accounts about the new observation balconies opening on the 103rd floor of Chicago's Sears (Willis) Tower. It was almost heart-stopping just to think about walking out over nothingness, 1353 feet above Wacker Drive and the Chicago River. Several summers ago, before construction of "The Ledge" began, I ventured close enough to the Skydeck's windows to take some pictures, but mostly I stayed back a few feet to avoid the queasiness of looking down so far. Visitors who got sneak previews from the glass-enclosed boxes included several young children who lay flat on the floor to look straight down or jumped up and down to see if there was any shaking. (There wasn't, of course. Each box has walls, ceiling, and floor made of three half-inch layers of super-clear glass with plastic layers sandwiched between. They are suspended from inside the building by a steel framework and each is capable of supporting five tons—about three mid-sized cars or an elephant. Cars and elephants are not allowed into the building, so I think we're okay here.)

What was amazing to me, other than the sheer boldness of the whole project, was the fearlessness of these children. Adults confessed their trepidation, but not the kids. They thought it was really cool! They had not yet acquired the caution of their elders. They had not learned this particular fear.

Most of us have some fears—heights, perhaps, or big dogs or doctors' needles or storms. These may be quite understandable. Some experience in our lifetime, even long ago in childhood, taught us to be wary, or we may have "caught" the fear from those around us who were afraid. We continue to carry that sense with us, and unless blown out of proportion—becoming an irrational phobia—it is of relatively small consequence that we do so. It did not matter to anyone, not even to me, that I did not want to stand too near the windows of the Skydeck in Chicago.

There are other fears too that we may have been taught or we "caught": fear of failure or rejection, of change, of authority, of dozens more. I am not the one to recommend how to handle these fears if they become a hindrance to happy living. I want only to remind us how easily we revert to a previously learned fear response. What may seem at first to be indignation might really be fear. What would appear to be a precaution can be fear. Even a show of humility sometimes is a cover for fear!

If it paralyzes, we may need to ask, "Is this actually fear?"

MaryMartha

My Ebenezer

I have several favorite places at the country retreat where I have just spent a week. One is an open, grassy space near the lake. Three crosses on the other side stand in sharp contrast against the summer sky. How can I not worship?

Not far away, there is a "post rock," standing upright and alone, so-called because of its history. A thin layer of limestone (10-12" usually) lies near the earth's surface in the central part of the Smoky Hills region of Kansas. Early settlers found few trees here to construct fences and buildings, so they were forced to locate alternate materials. They soon discovered that blocks from this limestone bed suited their needs. Some of the fences they made are still standing, a hundred years or so later. With wood and steel now readily available for building fences, most of the "post rock" quarried today is used for decorative purposes. Like my "Ebenezer."

In the Old Testament, we are told of an attack the Philistines were planning against the children of Israel who were encamped at Mizpah. The Israelites were badly frightened and begged Samuel to intercede for them with God. While Samuel was sacrificing the appropriate burnt offering, the enemy approached to engage Israel in battle. But in answer to Samuel's prayer, the Lord thundered loudly and threw them into a panic. The men of Israel rushed out of Mizpah and pursued the Philistines, slaughtering them as they ran away. Then Samuel took a large stone and set it up near Mizpah. He named it Ebenezer (literally meaning, "stone of help") and declared, "Thus far has the LORD helped us." (See I Samuel 7:7-12)

On a number of occasions, I have paused by this particular post rock, embraced it, and called it "Ebenezer." It reminds me of how far I have come with God's help, and though there is still a long way to go, it assures me of His continued help.

"Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home."
--from "Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing" by Robert Robinson, 1757

MaryMartha

Fitted Together

One morning, I looked carefully at the stone wall that enclosed part of my vacation retreat. It is made of natural limestone rock, some pieces so large that it surely must have taken two men to place them, some small enough that I could have held them in my hand, and every imaginable size and shape in between. I noticed how the builder had carefully fitted the stones together. Where one jutted out at a sharp angle, he had placed another with an opposing angle next to it. If the shapes were not complementary enough, a small sliver of rock was slipped between them, so that no wide gaps had to be mortared.

My thoughts turned to the Church—the whole Body of Christ as well as the local congregation with whom I worship. There are some "pillars" among us, wonderful bigger-than-life leaders who are critical in holding together what we are building. A great many other people surround them, each of them lending beauty and strength to the work. Like the rocks in the wall I was examining, none are alike but all are important to the finished creation. What one lacks, another possesses. Where one is weak, another is strong. Where one's gift may not fit a task, another's is well-suited. I am encouraged by the fact that even small shards, insignificant alone, had a place of importance by fitting in where they were needed to fill the cracks. Pillar or crack-filler, we all have a part!

"So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints, and are of God's household, having been built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus Himself being the corner stone, in whom the whole building, being fitted together, is growing into a holy temple in the Lord, in whom you also are being built together into a dwelling of God in the Spirit." (Ephesians 2:19-22)

MaryMartha

Scripture is from the New American Standard Bible, used by permission of The Lockman Foundation, http://www.lockman.org/

An Anniversary of Sorts and a Staycation

In a few days, on the 19th of July, this blog will have been online for a year. What an experience it has been! Especially when I first began, my brain had to handle whole new concepts, like templates and widgets and domains and HTML. I bought Blogging for Dummies, and true to its name, it got me into the action!

I "became a writer" when, in perhaps the fourth grade or so, I learned that the books I loved so much were written by real people. I began to write little poems which I gave to my teacher, who was warmly encouraging. The "fire" never went out, as through the years I continued to try, but mostly in vain, to become a free-lance writer. When part-time "retirement" became an option, some hours were available for more serious pursuit of my interest. Writing every weekday has been a productive discipline—and it is a discipline. Many things call to me, but none so persistently as my determination to make productive use of this opportunity. It has been a spiritual exercise as well, for I have to entrust the results of my efforts to the Lord of the Harvest. I do this gladly!

It's time for a break now, and I will be having a "staycation"—a combination of vacationing and staying at home. I am going for a week to a nearby country location with a lake and grass and trees, walking paths, a hammock, rocking chairs on the patio, friendly cats, and wonderful friends as hosts. I could pitch a tent there, but I prefer the comfort of a real bed and some air conditioning in what we fondly call "the garden level" accommodations (a walkout basement). There is no television, no Internet, no cell phone reception (although the hosts have a landline if guests have an emergency), minimal kitchen facilities—basically nothing to do. What a treat! I will walk and read and think and pray, eat and sleep and "veg out." I'll be back blogging again around the end of July.

MaryMartha

Broken

A thousand times or more,
I've knelt at altar rail,
Or sat in quiet pew with loved ones near,
While bits of bread are passed
Or loaf is shared.

Most clearly comes to mind
My early years
Before thin wafers served
To remind us of our Lord.
Just crackers, broken into crumbs,
So clearly showed His death.

Remembering His brokenness,
I celebrated life,
Rejoicing that He took my place.
Because He suffered brokenness,
I am set free.

I've learned another truth:
He did not die
So that I would have
A never-broken life.
He died because I am. --MM

One Pebble at a Time

I was thinking last evening about what I am accomplishing for the Kingdom of God—actually, about what a little bit I seem to be accomplishing, and I was somewhat disheartened by my evaluation. Then I remembered an old story, or maybe God reminded me! It's one of Aesop's fables, "The Crow and the Pitcher."

The Crow and the Pitcher

A Crow, half-dead with thirst, came upon a Pitcher which had once been full of water; but when the Crow put its beak into the mouth of the Pitcher he found that only very little water was left in it, and that he could not reach far enough down to get at it. He tried, and he tried, but at last had to give up in despair. Then a thought came to him, and he took a pebble and dropped it into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped it into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. At last, at last, he saw the water mount up near him, and after casting in a few more pebbles he was able to quench his thirst and save his life.

Little by little does the trick.

I'm not comparing myself or anyone else to a crow, but the lesson is clear to me. Nothing I do is on a grand scale, nor does it need to be. Bit by bit, one "pebble" at a time, I will keep my faith-witness alive and clear, and one day the Water of Life will rise in the pitcher until some thirsty person can have a drink.

MaryMartha

Things Mama Taught Me: Say "I'm Sorry"

But what if I'm not sorry? Or what if I'm sorry only that my action was discovered? That made no difference to my mother. She knew that the humbling process of apologizing was a step toward genuine sorrow, especially if accompanied by corrective measures so that I didn't care to repeat it! Action often has to precede emotion; if I say "sorry" and act out "sorry," the chances are good that I will eventually feel sorry as well.

Wouldn't it have been nice if, as a child, I had had a PR person following me around, declaring, "She didn't really mean that. What she intended to say was . . ." On a regular basis, we hear leaders in politics, religion, and business offering their sort-of apologies: "I'm sorry you misunderstood . . . " "A lot of people were hurt . . . " "I did not intend to . . . " Do you ever get the feeling that given the same opportunity but with the assurance that this time they could avoid being caught, the offenders would probably repeat their action? Whatever happened to "I was wrong. I'm sorry. Please forgive me and I'll never do this again"? As documented by primatologists, even chimpanzees have reconciliation protocols, which sometimes look a lot like handshaking. Obviously, they had mothers who taught them to say, "I'm sorry."

The horror of many a crime or tragic accident is mitigated by the genuine remorse the offender demonstrates. Even judges are not immune to the presence—or absence—of authentic regret. For those who have suffered loss, sometimes the closure afforded by seeing the sorrow of the one who caused their grief is as important as the sentence handed down by the court. Too often they are denied that relief by someone who is not even sorry for the pain they have created.

"For the kind of sorrow God wants us to experience leads us away from sin and results in salvation. There’s no regret for that kind of sorrow. But worldly sorrow, which lacks repentance, results in spiritual death." (II Corinthians 7:10) Saying "I'm sorry" when we're wrong is good for us.

MaryMartha

You may want to read the post Never Saying "Sorry." Click on the title.

Scripture quotation is taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved.

On Being Whacked

A couple of nights ago, this area had torrential rain and sizeable hail. My beautiful big-leafed hosta are in shreds. I was bemoaning my loss to a couple of co-workers and one of them told me, "They'll come back. The year we had such a huge hailstorm here, I had my best garden crops ever. In fact, my mother told me it would increase the yields if you take a yardstick to your plants. Don't kill them; just give them a couple of good whacks!"

Oh, really? That sounds like something a great-grandmother told her daughter and she told her daughter and she told her daughter . . . Maybe that idea came from the tough pine trees that withstand storms on mountain terrain, or possibly it has something to do with pollinating certain plants. Anyway, I'm inclined to doubt the scientific validity—unless some of you gardeners out there have convincing evidence.

I do know, however, that it is possible for difficulty to make people sturdy and productive. Jesus said to His disciples at the Passover meal with them, "I have told you these things [about His return to the Father] so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble [whackings!]. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

MaryMartha

Scripture quotation is taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved.

Things Mama Taught Me: "Don't Worry about What People Think"

There has to be a certain amount of caring what people think about our appearance and speech and actions, if we're going to live among people who are our employers or employees, our public servants or those whom we serve, our parents or our children, our friends or those who could damage us. My mother said, "You wouldn't worry too much about what people think of you, if you knew how seldom they do." She wasn't talking about normal social expectations; she was aiming at a slavish fear of people's opinions. Too much consciousness of every nuance of an encounter inhibits rather than frees it.

"My boss/teacher might feel . . ." "So-and-so said that I am . . ." "I'm afraid that someone will think . . ." All these may be good in proper perspective, but given a place of oversized importance, they are negative. Trying to teach my daughter to handle others' opinions, I asked her, "Is what they are saying or thinking true? If you know in your heart that you were right or appropriate or fair—whatever the case—then just let it go. Don't try to chase down everything you think somebody is thinking about you."

Extreme self-consciousness may have a bit of fantasy in it, imagining that how we look or how we perform really matters all that much to other people. (Hint: Most of those other people are less interested in you than they are in what others think of them!)

MaryMartha

"Your Speech Bewrayeth You"

In the King James Version of the Bible, with some of its archaic language, that is what the bystanders said to Peter when they heard him speak, "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." They recognized the accent of one who was from Galilee, and therefore concluded that he was with Jesus who had just come through the high priest's courtyard to be tried before the scribes and elders. Peter's speech betrayed him.

Our words give us away as well. I was in my yard, banking new soil to keep a sandy sloped area from washing away completely. A man walking his dog came by and, after an exchange of greetings, asked about my project. "I'm building terraces up here to keep everything from washing down onto the sidewalk," I explained. "Ah, you're from the farm!" he said. "That's what a farmer would call those." And it's true. My speech "betrayed" me.

Jesus told us this would happen. "For whatever is in your heart determines what you say," and "A good person produces good things from the treasury of a good heart, and an evil person produces evil things from the treasury of an evil heart. What you say flows from what is in your heart." (Matthew 12:34; Luke 6:45) We may try to argue this point: "I didn't mean it." "I was just kidding." "Well, he/she said, so I said . . ." "I so upset, I couldn't help it." But James writes, "Sometimes it [the tongue] praises our Lord and Father, and sometimes it curses those who have been made in the image of God. And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! Does a spring of water bubble out with both fresh water and bitter water? Does a fig tree produce olives, or a grapevine produce figs? No, and you can’t draw fresh water from a salty spring." (James 3:9-12)

What's inside will come out: Fear or faith. Fun or frustration. Falsehood or fact. Friendship or flattery. And, I found out, even the Farm.

MaryMartha

I have written quite a number of other articles about words and their power. To access them easily, click on the label "words" at the bottom of this article.

No Overload

The Internet is bogged down this afternoon. Many sites are slow, and some cannot be reached at all. There is a flood of media coverage of the Michael Jackson memorial service, and a tsunami of comments on the social networks (or so I'm told). I've even had difficulty accessing my Blogger account! The 'net is overloaded.

Years ago, before we communicated so much online, we used the telephone more. We sang an old song about always being able to make our connection through "The Royal Telephone."

Central’s never “busy,” always on the line;
You may hear from Heaven almost any time;
’Tis a royal service, free for one and all;
When you get in trouble, give this royal line a call.

Refrain
Telephone to glory, O what joy divine!
I can feel the current moving on the line,
Built by God the Father for His loved and own,
We may talk to Jesus thru this royal telephone.

There will be no charges, telephone is free,
It was built for service, just for you and me;
There will be no waiting on this royal line,
Telephone to glory always answers just in time.
--Frederick M. Lehman, 1919

This line never gets overloaded. Aren't you glad!

MaryMartha

Real and Not Real

This morning I heard a reviewer talking about the holiday weekend movies, the blockbuster live-action film with some added fantasy characters versus the close second-runner produced by animation. I'm certainly not opposed to fantasy of either type; although I didn't grow up with TV cartoons, I read the "funny papers" just like every other kid.

I began to think, though, about the difference between real and not-real when it comes to being a follower of Christ. I think I know some "Transformers," like the shape-shifting robots in the movie. In church, they smile and sing and pray just like everyone else. You wouldn't be able to tell them from the "real thing" just by looking. But in other surroundings, they present themselves differently. At home, they don't smile and sing and pray; they scowl and scold and complain. At work, they snarl and criticize and gossip. In traffic, they grit their teeth and "cuss" other drivers and take advantage if they dare. Not a pretty picture.

Animated movies are fun usually, even sweet, but not real either. And I know some of those Christians too. They are nice, but not very substantial. They too look fine, but their worship is just something one does on Sunday morning. Home may be pleasant enough, but not able to give its members strong purpose and encouragement. Work means avoiding conflict, even if one has to compromise to do it. Not an attractive image either.

Fantasy and make-believe are a pleasant diversion, but it's not what life is made of. Animation has been raised to an art form, but it's still not the same as flesh-and-blood. We are called to live a real faith in a real world.

MaryMartha

Fireworks

Today, the 4th of July, is "The Fourth of July," with capital letters,
marking Independence Day in the U.S.

Fireworks

With hiss and boom the colored sparks
Trace patterns in the sky.
Each must be bolder, louder,
And better than the rest.
We celebrate freedom
With such excess.
I wonder why?

And in my quiet garden,
A lightning bug flits by,
So simple, silent, free
And natural, I almost missed
The wee voice of his cry:
"This little light of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine."
        —MM

MaryMartha

Getting Polished

I bought some natural stones today for my rock garden. Some were rough pieces of limestone, probably from right here in Kansas, the dealer told me. Others I chose were river rocks, he said, worn smooth by years and years of tumbling against one another as the water flowed over and around them. Even though these rocks are composed of extremely hard material, much harder than the limestone, their sharp edges have been knocked off by the constant wearing process. If one were to further tumble these smoothed rocks in a rock tumbler with abrasive grit, they would be quite beautiful, some with distinctive grain as well as a high polish.

As I placed the rocks, I thought about the "rough edges" we ourselves have, and how God brings into our lives the circumstances and people that can smooth out those places if we comply with His plan. Maybe the things that simply wear us out are actually working for our benefit! When we are feeling most tumbled, perhaps that is when we are getting our best polishing!

MaryMartha

Face to Face

God isn't necessarily right-handed, even if the Scripture does say, "I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." (Isaiah 41:10 NIV) Both of His hands are equally strong, I'm sure, but our use of the term makes the difference significant. In many cultures of the world, the place at the right hand is one of respect or honor, and even left-handed people use their right hands for the traditional hand-shaking used to greet, congratulate, express agreement, or say goodbye.

In a time of testing or trouble, I am encouraged by the familiar promises of God that He holds me by the hand. He upholds me with His right hand, representing all His power to keep me from destruction and all His righteousness to keep me from sin. And He holds my right hand. "I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you." (Isaiah 41:13 NIV) The Father extends His right hand to me while we walk together, and I place my right hand in His. He holds it tightly; my safety does not depend on my own sometimes-weak grasp.

Two who walk together with hands clasped ordinarily join a right hand and a left. The walk with God is different, for with His right hand, He takes me by my right hand. This means that we must face each other. Not only is there strength and security in the walk with God, but there is intimate fellowship is well. When I face difficulty, His strong, unfailing hand holds my faltering, weak one—and I have only to look up to see His face! When the path is more pleasant or easy, I still keep my hand in His, not turning to one side or the other, not looking back or trying to peer ahead—and I have only to look up to see His face!

"Whenever, though, [we] turn to face God as Moses did, God removes the veil and there [we] are—face-to-face! [We] suddenly recognize that God is a living, personal presence, not a piece of chiseled stone. And when God is personally present, a living Spirit, that old, constricting legislation is recognized as obsolete. We're free of it! All of us! Nothing between us and God, our faces shining with the brightness of his face. And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him." (II Corinthians 3:16-18 MSG)

MaryMartha

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright©1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. Scripture marked MSG is taken from The Message. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Bread of Heaven

"Then the LORD said to Moses, 'I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day. In this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions.' . . . When the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, 'What is it?' for they did not know what it was.

"Moses said to them, 'It is the bread the LORD has given you to eat. This is what the LORD has commanded: "Each one is to gather as much as he needs. Take an omer [about two liters] for each person you have in your tent." ' The Israelites did as they were told; some gathered much, some little. And when they measured it by the omer, he who gathered much did not have too much, and he who gathered little did not have too little. Each one gathered as much as he needed. . . The people of Israel called the bread manna. It was white like coriander seed and tasted like wafers made with honey." (Exodus 16:4, 15-18, 31)

"Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD." (Deuteronomy 8:2, 3)

"How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!" Psalm 119:103

Manna,
The Father's gift,
Delights the hung'ring soul.
Discover fresh from Him each day
Your bread.

Search deep!
Old truths conceal
The new. Search on! Once fed,
The soul has only deeper need
For Him! --MM

MaryMartha

Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright©1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.