Lord of the Body

We sometimes take for granted the marvelous working of the bodies that we live in, forgetting what a great gift the ordinary processes of life really are. Often we begin to pay attention only when things aren't functioning quite so well!

Night stretches out before me—
Long hours of blessed sleep!
Surely I will rest and then refreshed,
Be equal to the day.

"Oh no, you won't.
Your times are in My Hand.
No matter what you trust to give you ease,
Sleep is a gift. You cannot choose
Relief from busy thought,
The slowing of your heart and breath,
The quieting of every nerve.
I rule your body-home."

Yes, please, I'll have all that:
Corn dogs and onion rings, and cabbage in the soup,
And pizza late at night.
I can eat anything.

"Oh no, you can't.
Your times are in My Hand.
No matter what you choose to chew,
Digestion is a gift. You cannot force
Your body's use of nutrients
To build and fuel the cells.
I rule your body-frame."

Okay, Lord, it's true:
"In You, we live and move and have our being."

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

How Much Is Enough?

I came across the title of a book the other day, One Hundred Ways to Simplify Your Life. I didn't read the book, of course—it sounds far too complicated—but I thought it was a truly amazing idea. A hundred ways to simplify? If I were to simplify my life, I think I would probably work on three ways, max! Actually, after seriously thinking about it for awhile, I decided that for most of us one thing would do for a start:

Learn how much is enough.

How much is enough food, enough sleep, enough pairs of shoes?
How much is enough house to live in? Enough car to drive?
How much is enough money?
How much is enough commitment of personal resources to the job?
     To the Church? To the community?
How much is enough time to spend with family and friends,
     how much with toxic people?
How much is enough solitude?
How much is enough talk? Enough being silent?
How much is enough electronic entertainment?
How much is enough exercise? How much doing
     absolutely nothing?
How much is enough reading? Or writing?
How many are enough issues laying around of a magazine
     I subscribe to?
How many are enough knickknacks that have to be dusted?
How many perfectly good Christmas bows that can be used again
     are enough?
How many plastic grocery bags, not-quite-empty bottles,
     and little boxes too good to throw away are enough?
     (Yes, I'm supposed to recycle and reuse, but really now . . . )

Balance is the key. We tend to be excessive consumers, having too much or wanting too much of some things, while we are paupers in other ways. We need not be either ascetics or gluttons, but rather examine our possessions and priorities to check for imbalance. "Learn how much is enough" implies less of a singular decision than an ongoing process. What is the right amount? We will need to weigh and re-weigh that, as the seasons of life change and we ourselves grow and change.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

On Praying Ground

I knew some dear old saints, while I was growing up, who would often speak about being "on praying ground." I had no idea, of course, what they meant; I just knew that they were at some honored, mysterious place where prayers were heard and answered. I understand now that they simply were confident that their hearts were in right relationship to God so that their prayers were not hindered, and their history with Him gave assurance of forthcoming answers.

It may be that in our high-speed, complicated world we make prayer something it is not intended to be. There is no lack of information about how to go about it. The WorldCat, a catalog of library collections worldwide, lists 62,307 titles on the subject of prayer, and you or I could probably access most of these through the interlibrary loan system of our local library. That super-abundance of material may lull us into thinking it is so easy that anyone can do it and write about it. Or on the other hand, we may have misgivings about something so difficult that many thousands of books aren't sufficient to instruct us.

In contrast to our present wealth of printed material, only a little over 1000 titles on prayer were available before 1900, about the time my saint-friends might have been reading about it. I doubt that very many of those available titles were owned by the fledging Carnegie Library in our area, or that very many of the farming-community folks frequented the library. So how did they learn to pray? They studied the Word of God, and tried to follow the examples they found there of effective pray-ers.

One such instance is recorded in the Gospel of Mark. A distressed father bought his son to Jesus, explaining that an evil spirit had possessed the child, rendering him unable to speak. Whenever the boy was under the spirit's power, he would become rigid and fall to the ground, foaming at the mouth and grinding his teeth. The father had asked the Lord's disciples to drive out the spirit, but they could not. Now he was asking Jesus to do something "if He could." Of course He could! He rebuked the spirit, commanding it to release the child, and with shrieking and a great convulsion, it obeyed.

Later in private, the disciples asked Jesus why they had been unable to cure the boy. Although Jesus had chided them earlier for being "faithless," He did not mention their lack of faith again. He simply explained, "This kind can come out only by prayer"—and some translations add, "and by fasting." There is no indication that Jesus prayed long and hard or that He fasted for this deliverance—something we may believe we have to do if we really, really are serious about getting an answer. So what could He have meant?

The prayer and perhaps fasting in which Jesus engaged were His lifestyle. He was, if I may put it this way, on praying ground. We sometimes feel the need of a schedule or a formal action or object to center our attention, but Jesus was perfectly focused. He lived and breathed the Father's will. Can we learn to do this?

Yes, probably, if we don't read thousands of books instead of actually doing it.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Off the Hook

Not long ago, I was trying to communicate online with a customer service rep about my account. "You'll find that information in the notes on the page," he e-mailed me.

I couldn't see any notes.

"On the left side of the page."

I still couldn't see any notes.

We finally figured out that although we were both reading my record, we were literally not on the same page. "Okay," he wrote in closing. "I'll let you off the hook . . ."

I wasn't offended, having dealt satisfactorily with this firm for a long time, but I was surprised. Was I on some kind of hook? What hook would that be, anyway? Was I supposed to be feeling embarrassed or guilty? The incident provoked me to think further about some social "hooks."

Children catch each other on hooks all the time. "I know something you don't know!" they call in a sing-song taunt. Or, accompanying an exaggerated sorrowful shaking of the head, they say, "N-n-n-n-n, you're in
tro-u-ble . . ." Or "You're just the teacher's pet."

Adults tend to be more subtle, or shall I say "less honest"? An adult may complain about some difficulty, then sigh and say, "But then I can't expect you to care about my troubles." "You got a new car? Some people are just lucky." Or even, "If you don't know what's wrong, I'm sure not going to tell you."

Do you see the hooks? Sometimes without thinking, but just as often with calculated purpose and predictable results, other people throw out bait that would hook us into feeling ignorant, threatened, unfairly favored, selfish and uncaring, guilty, or just plain stupid. If we bite the bait, we end up taking responsibility for their happiness or success.

"Off the hook" brings to my mind a fisherman releasing his catch, literally letting the fish off the hook. When I looked up the phrase in a dictionary of American slang, I found that was indeed the description: not holding another person to their error, failure, or offense just as one would free a fish from the hook on which it has been caught.

I don't think we can wait for other people to let us off the hook. We would be wiser not to take the bait in the first place. And for sure, let's not be guilty of manipulating others into tending to our own personal agenda by any less-than-honest implications.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

The Lord Is My Shepherd

Since my childhood, whenever I think of the Bible story of David, I have the picture in my mind of this young shepherd boy resting for awhile with his back against a large rock as his sheep graze nearby. I see him taking a small homemade instrument with strings from his carryall, strumming soft chords on it while he sings extemporaneously: "The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want."

That may not be what happened at all. A number of Bible scholars think this psalm of trust was not written in the pasture at all, but later when David was being persecuted by Saul, or at an even later time when his own son Absalom was trying to overthrow him and take the throne. If this is so, it makes the "the valley of the shadow of death" a very real possibility, a more serious threat than even the lion and the bear who tried to attack David's flock. The words about rest and comfort stand out in even greater contrast if we think of David being surrounded by those who opposed him.

As a man with shepherd experience, David knew that green pastures are not everywhere; they have to be located. That's why sheep need someone to guide them. Not every stream flows with quiet waters; it is the shepherd's responsibility to find the right one for his flock. As we follow the Good Shepherd through life's experiences, can't we assume that at some point we will encounter scrubby grassland or even desert? David experienced those, but afterwards, his Shepherd led him again into safe, green pastures. Won't it be possible for us to come across a roiled stream or even rushing, frightening water? David did, but then the Shepherd led him on to a quiet place of rest.

In a very old, treasured copy I own of Lettie B. Cowman's Streams in the Desert, there are these words, excerpted from a longer poem by, I think, Henry H. Barry although I have also seen it printed anonymously and by another author.

In "pastures green"? No, not always; sometimes He
Who knowest best, in kindness leadeth me
In weary ways, where heavy shadows be.
So, whether on the hill-tops high and fair
I dwell, or in the sunless valleys, where
The shadows lie, what matter? He is there.

Whether David's song of trust was written to describe his experience as shepherd lad, beleaguered subject of King Saul, or betrayed father, we are to trust our Shepherd just as fully as he did.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Lessons from a Labyrinth

Some people look with suspicion on practices of reflection and worship that are "too new." Others want to avoid forms that have their origin in very old, even primitive, observances. However, in limiting ourselves this way, we may exclude some opportunities for interesting and helpful spiritual exercises. One of these ways is the use of a labyrinth, not the same as a maze, although some people use the terms interchangeably. A labyrinth has only a single path to the center, an unambiguous route not intended to be difficult or confusing. A maze, on the other hand, is a complex puzzle of branching passages presenting many choices, most of which lead to a dead-end.

The first labyrinth, as far as we know, originated in Greek mythology and was an elaborate structure designed to contain a mythical creature. As with some other pagan practices, the medieval Church adopted a secular custom for her own purpose. Walking through the labyrinth was used a means to meditate, pray, and connect with God in a deep way. The prayer labyrinths embedded in the floors of some of Europe's great cathedrals were even called "Road of Jerusalem" since they served as a sort of spiritual pilgrimage for those who could not travel to the center of their religious world. A few centuries later, prayer labyrinths had lost much of their spiritual meaning, and only with the contemporary church movement have they become popular again. Some clergypersons and believers associate them with New Age mystical practices, but I think that is a needless worry.

The most widely accepted prayer labyrinth in the Church is the eleven-circuit one with four quadrants, which is somewhat representative of Christ's cross. Divine grace is symbolized by the unending path to the center and back. The "pilgrim" moves along the labyrinthine path at his/her own pace, perhaps stopping sometimes to rest or pray, but still on the path. The great truth here is that life too, though it has many turns, complications and difficulties, is still encompassed by God's grace!

A friend gave me a lap labyrinth, a piece of tan canvas with the path outlined clearly in white. I use a glass "pebble" to trace the turns. Here are some of the things I discovered about my labyrinth and about life:

* The path is harder than it looks.
* When on the path, I can't tell whether I'm going in or out but I can't get lost.
* As long as I keep moving, I will get somewhere; it's the journey that matters.
* Pay attention! Or I'll be confused.
* Don't look ahead very far, and don't look back.
* I have to trust the Designer; there are no markers along the way.
* At some points, when it appears I am as far as I can possibly be from the goal, I am in reality only a few turns away from reaching it.
* Conversely, when “the way out” appears to be within easy reach, there may remain a long, winding journey to the end.
* Since, then, things are not always what they seem, I need only to stay committed to the pathway and all will be well!

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Goodbye to a Person You Once Knew

Years ago I was deeply affected by Eda LeShan’s account of losing a large amount of weight. (Winning the Losing Battle, 1979) As is true with many people, she found the root of this problem in attitudes and ideas she had brought with her from childhood. She finally told the self she had been for almost all her life ("Fat Eda"), “You suffered so much pain and you tried so hard; it has been such a struggle—as far back as memory—the hunger, the desperate efforts at control, the torment of self-consciousness and self-loathing . . . the shame and frustration and disappointment. Thank you, dear friend, for caring so much and finally letting me go. I'll never, ever forget you." And although she was justifiably proud of her achievement, she very literally mourned the loss of someone she once knew.

The Apostle Paul urges us, “Let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think.” (Romans 12:2) Sometimes changing the way you think means leaving behind someone you have known for a long time—an earlier self. The words of a song come to mind: “I’ve grown accustomed to [your] face.” That person may not have been “bad” at all; there was nothing really wrong with LeShan’s inner self except that she was still just that heartsick little nine-year old girl. Finding that you no longer want to be the person you are accustomed to being can be disheartening until you begin truly to love the new person that is developing.

Erik Kolbell, a psychotherapist and former minister at New York's Riverside Church, has written a fine book, The God of Second Chances. In it, he mentions his admiration for women who have found their way out of abusive relationships. They underwent a major change in their thinking, refusing to tolerate any longer the degradation being heaped on them. They came to understand that they did not have to remain burdened by the pieces of their past or their personality that unwittingly capitulated to abuse. Although their new optimism and self-esteem is cherished, they are not likely to ignore the fact that it was won by a certain kind of “dying,” giving up something of themselves. However unhealthy that earlier self was, it can be painful to say goodbye forever.

The alcoholic, the approval addict, the “control freak,” the compulsive eater or liar or shopper face the same loss—part of the person they once knew has to be left behind. Be gentle with the individual who is constructing a new life pattern. (Even if, or maybe especially if, that person is you!) It is not as easy as just making a New Years’ resolution. Often it is not even part of the decision to receive Jesus Christ as Savior. It may be a part of one’s spiritual growth or it may be a practical, personal determination. In any event, respect the enormous sacrifice of self that he/she (or you) have made to be transformed into a new person.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture quotation 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.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Things Mama Taught Me: "Your Face Will Freeze That Way"

I don't know why my mother never told me about the possibility of permanent face-itis when I was grinning or merely looking pleasant! It was always when I was scowling that she warned me, "Watch out! Your face will freeze that way."

Mama was partly right. When we perform the same physical motion repeatedly, after awhile we create what is called "muscle memory." Our subconscious mind records and remembers the exact position and tension of every muscle used in making the action. After a great many repetitions, the muscle memory becomes so strong that we can perform the action without even thinking about it. It is just automatic.

A couple of us in my exercise class were telling the instructor that when we practice at home, we get stalled partway through the routine because we can't remember what comes next. "Don't worry about it," he told us. "It will get easier. You will build in muscle memory." He was saying that eventually our bodies would just know what to do, and we wouldn't have to work so hard at consciously remembering.

People that I meet won't care whether or not I can use opposing hands and feet to kick-and-punch. (This is not on people, I must add. This is a bunch of arthritic old folks!) They will respond, though, to the habit my face muscles have. Gospel quartets used to sing, "Give the world a smile each day, helping someone on life's way." Smiling is not as complex a performance as dancing or typing or playing the piano, but it does become easier to do with practice.

And so does frowning, my mother knew.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Neither Borrower Nor Lender

"Neither a borrower nor a lender be; for loan oft loses both itself and friend." Although that might sound like advice from the Holy Scripture, it is actually a quote from Shakespeare's "Hamlet." The Bible does have something to say, though, about the matter. "The borrower is servant to the lender." There are a few very good reasons for having debt, but we must recognize that it has a price in addition to the interest we pay. We are never quite free. "No, we can't buy a second car while we owe so much on this one." "We will remodel the bathroom after we get the new roof paid for." "I have to pay off my school debt before I can start my own business."

When it comes to lending, the Old Testament regulates how God's people were to lend to one another: not even charging interest, and returning a cloak taken as surety by nightfall so that the owner could stay warm. However, Jesus talked more about giving than about lending. "If you lend money only to those who can repay you, why should you get credit? Even sinners will lend to other sinners for a full return. Love your enemies! [And your neighbors and your relatives!] Do good to them. Lend to them without expecting to be repaid. Then your reward from heaven will be very great, and you will truly be acting as children of the Most High . . . " for that is the way He lives toward us, generously and graciously, even when we're at our worst. Our Father is kind; we are to be kind. (Luke 6:34, 35 NLT)

I acknowledge that we must be good stewards of the resources God has entrusted to us, so ordinarily we shouldn't be giving away the house payment or donating the week's grocery money to the panhandler on the corner. But in circumstances that we may face from to time, giving can be to our own benefit! After several financial disappointments because I was too "soft," a wise friend advised me, "Don't loan money that you cannot afford to give." I began to follow this counsel, and though sometimes it has been painful—I don't enjoy saying "no"—I have found it becoming a means of self-protection.

Giving, rather than lending, keeps me from feeling like a victim: "He/she has tapped me again! Why do I do this? What if I don't get the money back? How will I pay this bill or that?" Then will someone who knows I am generous take advantage of me? Quite possibly, but giving frees me. I don't have to fret about a decision; it's right there in the checkbook in black-and-white (or red, as the case may be)! If I have it to give, I will help a little or a lot. If I don't have it to give, I cannot loan.

My giving also keeps the other person from distancing themselves. A debtor who delays payment is, after awhile, not going to be eager to be around their lender. Yes, if I give without insisting on a return, they may come and ask again, but at least they are still in my life and we are still talking—even about honesty and responsibility and planning ahead. They know the rule is there: If I have it to give . . .

And best of all, I actually do get compensated for what I give instead of lend. "Mercy to the needy is a loan to God, and God pays back those loans in full." (Proverbs 19:17 MSG)

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture quotation marked NLT 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. Scripture marked MSG is taken from The Message. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Mary and Martha Were Sisters

Mary and Martha were sisters who lived, during the time of Jesus' earthly ministry, in the little town of Bethany. The family often entertained Jesus in their home; it was a quiet place to rest and get a home-cooked meal. Jesus loved Martha, the Scripture says, and also her sister Mary. Here is how I imagine their story:

Martha was a worker. She thrived on the well-deserved compliments she received on her well-kept home. (It was her house, the Scripture indicates.) Under her care, the household hummed along smoothly. Meals were attractive and ready on time, the shelves were neatly ordered, the floors were clean. Martha saw to it.

Mary was a learner. When Jesus was in the house, she put aside her duties—cleaning, cooking, weaving—and sat close enough to hear him speak, completely absorbed in every word He said. Nothing was more important than learning from Jesus. Mary knew that.

One day Jesus came with His entourage of disciples and other followers—how many we don’t know—just in time for dinner. Maybe the women had had time to prepare, perhaps not. At any rate, Martha busied herself with preparations to feed the crowd. Mary, on the other hand, crept into the dining area where the men would soon be served. She sat, probably somewhat hidden since she was uninvited, at Jesus' feet to hear what He was saying.

In the middle of preparing the meal, hot and tired from baking fresh bread, Martha suddenly realized that her sister had not moved from her place at Jesus' feet. The table was not even laid, and here sat Mary, hanging on Jesus every word, completely unaware of all the work yet to be done. Martha began to get irritated, quite naturally. Would she have preferred to sit and listen to Jesus too? Quite probably. But Martha couldn't take the traveling evangelist out for dinner, or call a nice restaurant that caters to bring in a meal. That was not an option; she was obligated to provide for Jesus and the others in her own home. But she was having to do it all alone!

Martha bustled into the room, interrupting the men. "Master," she said curtly to Jesus, "doesn't it bother you that my sister has abandoned the kitchen, expecting me to get everything ready for You? Tell her to lend me a hand!" What motivated Martha to go to Jesus and call attention to Mary's lack of cooperation? Why didn't she just whisper to Mary, "C'mon, sis, I need your help"? Or had she already summoned Mary and been ignored?

Jesus did not scold Martha and tell her she should stop serving, nor did He pat Mary's head and tell her to stay right there. He just said gently, “Dear, dear Martha, you are far too worried about all these details! You're upset about things—a meal and a room—that matter only for a little while. Just one thing is really essential, and Mary has discovered that. Spiritual communion. What she gains here can never, in this world or the next, be taken away from her.

"Here," He continued, "come sit for awhile with us. Dinner can wait."

So Martha sat beside her sister, her fingers working nervously in her unaccustomed idleness. After a time, she quit studying the frayed edge of the Master's robe—"I've got to mend that while He's here"—and looked up into His face. The same welcome smile He had for Mary was there for her too, the same loving warmth in His eyes. Martha relaxed in the peace of His presence.
And pretty soon, without a word, Mary got up and went into the kitchen.x

l l l

My best friend and I are sisters too. Some of our early difficulties in understanding each other may be attributed to natural sibling rivalry or to our birth order in the family. However, our situation as we grew up was aggravated by family friends, well-meaning but not well-informed, who were prone to evaluate and make comparisons. “Mary is the quiet, serious one,” they would say. "Now Martha,” they continued, “is not like her sister. She is very busy with her career. (Sigh) The girls are so different.”

As we matured, though, the most amazing thing happened. Mary hit some rough places in life, and she didn't feel as spiritual as she once had. Martha met some friends that challenged her in new ways and her faith was energized. Mary became very busy, like a Martha. Martha began to value contemplation, like a Mary. After awhile Mary had a quiet, reflective aspect of herself, but an active, vigorous side as well. Martha too had a meditative and prayerful life, as well as a busy and creative one. Mary discovered that she was not all that different from Martha, and Martha began to see how like Mary she was. I am Mary and I am Martha. My sister is Mary and she is Martha. And yes, we can still tell each other apart! My blogging name—MaryMartha—was chosen to honor the two parts of me, and the two parts of my sister, and the two Bible women both of whom we admire.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

I Have a Dream

Today in the United States, we are observing Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Forty-five years ago this African American clergyman and civil rights activist stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. and galvanized 250,000 listeners with his "I Have a Dream" speech. The March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom was undertaken to put more pressure on the administration and the legislature to advance civil rights measures. Not only did it accomplish that, but it has also informed and inspired and challenged generations since then.

A part of King's dream was his desire for a future where "Negroes" and "whites" would live harmoniously as equals. He may have had just a glimpse of how big his dream really was when he shouted, "Let freedom ring. And when this happens, and when we allow freedom to ring—when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children—black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics—will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: 'Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!' What King could not foresee, even in his "dream," was that his call to equality would affect a great many marginalized people: women, children, the disabled, religious and political groups, the elderly and others.

Why are we so quick to extinguish our dreams? Why are we afraid to imagine what we could do or become as God enables us? What if Abraham and Sarah had given up on their dream of having a son? Yes, he was dubious and she laughed at the idea, but they also took the appropriate action to produce a baby! What if Peter and Andrew and James and John had not dreamed of something greater than catching fish? Yes, the idea of a kingdom that would throw off Roman rule held their attention, but still they actually did leave everything behind to follow Jesus' call. What if Jim Elliott and his buddies had not dreamed they could reach a people with the Gospel? What if Brother Andrew had not dreamed of a way to get Bibles to the underground church in communist countries during the cold war? What if your mentor or spiritual leader had not dreamed that he/she could make a difference in someone's life?

God often uses our human yearnings to further His plan. A sanctified imagination is a tool He can use to accomplish wonderful things. This doesn't happen in some magical way in a land "somewhere over the rainbow . . . [where] the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true," as Judy Garland sings in The Wizard of Oz. This happens here, in real life. Just look at Martin Luther King, Jr.'s dream!

Don't be afraid. Go ahead! Dream your dream!

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Marks on Marble

I had the privilege a number of years ago to take a tour of the Boston Public Library. Being used to small-town or mid-sized libraries, I was greatly impressed by this largest of municipal public libraries in the U.S. There was a lot to impress me: books, of course, some of the more than six million; rare books and manuscripts, including volumes from John Adams' personal library, with marginal notes in his own handwriting; sculptures and murals and chiseled inscriptions; high arched windows with hundreds of panes; and the great reading room with its huge barrel-vaulted ceiling, making the vast, hushed space feel more like a basilica than a library.

But the most memorable thing I saw was the depressions on the beautiful steps of The Main Staircase. Footsteps for more than a century have worn concaves into the ivory gray French marble. With my own feet, I could feel the cupping of those stair treads, and I wondered with awe how many millions of visitors had traveled that stairway, their accumulated weight wearing away the hard stone.

Thoughts and words and actions are like that. A person may not intend to become greedy or lustful. He/she would probably never plan to be unfaithful or to become a liar or a thief or an abuser. But like the millions of footsteps that made hollows in the marble steps, little things repeated over and over again effect a change. People who have acted selfishly all their lives do not even realize how unlovely (and unlovable) they really are. People who ignore or despise truth may come to a place of deception where they do not even recognize truth. Those who lie or cheat habitually or abandon their commitments may eventually think that individual integrity is hardly significant.

I'm not implying that God cannot or does not change people. He can and He does. But a lifetime of little thoughts and words and actions leaves marks that may well be permanent. If they can be eradicated, it may take rigorous personal attention and effort. A saying of uncertain origin, common in the nineteenth century, warns, "We sow a thought and reap an act; we sow an act and reap a habit; we sow a habit and reap a character; we sow a character and reap a destiny."

We are making our marks on marble.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Fear of Being Well

Not all of Jesus' miracles were received with gladness. An account in three of the four Gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—relates an incident where a wonderful healing took place, and the response was great fear.

Jesus and his disciples came by boat across the Sea of Galilee to the country of the Gerasenes. There they were met by a madman, a victim of demons who so tormented him that he lived naked and homeless in the cemetery among the tombs. He was so wild that no one could restrain him; he had been tied up many times, but he broke the ropes and snapped the chains. Night and day he wandered among the burial caves and in the hills, howling and slashing himself with sharp stones.

When the man saw Jesus, still a long way off, he ran and bowed before Him as if to worship. But then he screamed and the evil spirits within bellowed, "Why are you interfering with me, Son of the Most High God? In the name of God, don't torture me!"

"Tell me your name," Jesus commanded the spirit presence, and it answered, "Mob. I am a rioting mob," but then as Jesus began to order them to come out, they pleaded not to be totally banished. A large herd of pigs—2000 of them—were rooting and feeding on a nearby hill. "Send us into the swine," they begged desperately. Jesus gave His permission, and the whole herd of crazed pigs plunged wildly down the steep hillside and into the lake where they all drowned.

Those who were tending the pigs were scared to death. They fled to the nearby town, spreading the news as they went. A crowd gathered around Jesus and saw there with Him the man who had been delivered from the demon mob. He was wearing decent clothes and making sense when he spoke. It was a miracle! And the crowd's response? They were all afraid and demanded that Jesus go away and leave them alone.

Why were people afraid in the face of a miraculous healing? True, they had lost their pigs. "If Jesus stays here, performing more of these miracles, it's hard telling how many of us will lose our livelihood. Let's run Him off!"

The social structure is upset. "This is too much change, way too fast. We don't understand it at all. It's just scary."

And if there's no wild man in the community to whom can we feel superior? "You think I'm crazy? No, that guy out in the cemetery is crazy."

Having finished just this one mission on the far side of the lake, Jesus started to get back into the boat. The delivered man begged to go along, but Jesus told him, "No, go home to your own people. Tell them your story, how the Master had mercy on you." He did just that, witnessing throughout the whole area of the amazing thing Jesus had done for him. By proclaiming his testimony, the delivered man avoided the tragedy of a return to the caves.

Once a person has grown accustomed to the darkness of his/her emotional self-destruction, ruinous habits, or antisocial behavior, the light may seem too much to bear. It is not at all unusual for those who are celebrating wellness to creep back into the familiarity of the "cave" where they have lived for a long time. Being free and responsible and happy is just too great a change. It's scary! He/she was not happier or healthier in the cave, but it is dear and familiar, and sometimes there is the temptation to find "safety" in that well-known place.

Jesus said, "If the Son sets you free, you are truly free." (John 8:36) But one has to accept that freedom and not fear being well.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture quotation 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.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Sometimes Anger Is Okay

It has been fun for me to share with you some of the "Things Mama Taught Me." I have to tell you, though, that she was wrong about some things. She taught me (not so much verbally as by the way she conducted herself) that being angry is not okay. Sunday School and church and a conservative Christian college soundly reaffirmed that idea. Only in relatively recent years—say, the last decade or so—have I learned that sometimes anger is not only okay, but is clearly the appropriate human response to injustice or mistreatment. It would have been better if, instead of never to be angry, my mother had taught me how to be angry.

Mama was wrong about anger because she herself had been not correctly taught. She was the product of her parents' teaching and her religious instruction just as I am. The Septuagint, Vulgate Latin, Syriac, Arabic, and Ethiopic versions render Psalm 4:4, "Be ye angry, and sin not," which apparently is how the Apostle Paul understood the verse, quoting it in his letter to the Ephesians. (4:26) Then why did Paul instruct the believers in verse 31 of the same chapter to "put away anger"? Looking at the Greek words—I don't read Greek, but I have a good concordance—I can see that the two words translated "anger" mean something different. The first, used in verse 26, is becoming provoked or exasperated. The second is much stronger: violent passion, implying punishment; vengeance; wrath. Modern versions express the dissimilarity well:

"Go ahead and be angry. You do well to be angry—but don't use your anger as fuel for revenge. And don't stay angry. . . Make a clean break with all cutting, backbiting, profane talk." (MSG)

"And don’t sin by letting anger control you . . . Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior." (NLT)

There is an anger that usually produces sin: when it is without reason, when it is quickly stirred, when it exceeds appropriate bounds, when it produces bad effects in words or actions, or when it continues unreasonably long--not to mention a "sin" I may not so quickly recognize, that is, the wrong against myself if I carry repressed fury in my heart. All kinds of physical ailments can be triggered or exacerbated when anger becomes the controlling emotion.

That last sentence holds an important key. Anger is an emotion. It is possible to feel it and then decide to let go of it. We may be justifiably angry, we may "deserve" to feel angry, and we may just want to stay angry! But at some point, for our own spiritual, emotional, and physical health, we must learn to let go. During an angry time of my own, a wise friend reminded me that "Resentment [anger] is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die." (Malachy McCourt, Irish-American author and actor) We may have every right to be angry, but that doesn't give us the right to be cruel to others or to injure ourselves.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture marked MSG is taken from The Message. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group. Scripture quotation marked NLT 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.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Faithful Through the Winter

One fall I had a profusely blooming bed of pansies in front of my house, their bright "faces" giving me great pleasure. Pansies are a hardy little flower; those planted in the fall bloom awhile, rest through the winter, and burst into bloom again in the spring. That year we had an unusually mild winter. I kept waiting and waiting to cover the bed with the usual quilt of brown leaves upon which a snowy coverlet would then be laid, keeping everyone cozy through the long cold season. Since the bitter weather we always expect in Kansas did not arrive, I ended up not covering the pansy bed at all.

Through most of the winter months, the pansy plants stayed green, and a couple of them never did cease their fall blooming. Those pansies brave enough to keep blooming bowed their heads in the chilling winds and frosty nights, but by afternoon, they raised them again to the warmth and light of the sun, giving me the unexpected pleasure of flowers beside my door all through the winter.

Most of the pansies followed the normal pattern of being still alive, but dormant throughout the winter. Those few who persisted in blooming were far ahead of the others when spring days came and it was actually time to put forth blossoms again. While the others were stirring themselves to put on buds, the brave winter-hardy souls had an abundance of large blooms. I took special delight in seeing that those who had weathered the winter were far ahead of those who had taken the winter off!

Faithfulness. That’s what pansies speak to me about. We are tempted sometimes not to wait out the tough times; we think about pulling back to avoid any risk in that personal relationship or that cause in which we are interested or that opportunity coming our way.

May God help us just to hold steady through the hard times, through the winter when nothing seems to be happening, through the cold season when there seems to be every reason to pull back and check whether it's worthwhile to invest our time, energy, and resources. Remember, no season lasts forever! If we are faithful through the winter, when spring comes again, our lives are strong and steady, ready once more to be productive and beautiful!

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Things Mama Taught Me: "Be Sure Your Sin Will Find You Out"

My mother said that to us many times, and although I may not have recognized it as Scripture—it is, and it's found in Numbers 32:23—I certainly believed it. I knew from experience that was how things worked! God seems to have blessed mothers with extra-sensory perception, extensive peripheral vision (maybe even eyes in the back of their heads), keen olfactory detection, and the hearing of a songbird. They just know things!

As a child, I read a story that proved to me without question that wrongdoing cannot be hidden. Now I never hear this Scripture quoted without thinking of that little story that went something like this:

Jimmy's mother was getting ready to bake; she covered a bowl of dough and put it on the back of the stove to rise while she did some other household chores. "Don't touch this bread dough," she told her young son. "Don't even lift the towel and look."

Jimmy couldn't help but be curious. Just what was so important about that bowl of stuff that he couldn't even look? But Mommy had said not to. He left the kitchen and played in the next room for awhile, but then he came back to the kitchen. "I sure would like to look," he thought. But Mommy had said not to. He went away again, but pretty soon he came back. "Just a tiny peek won't hurt," he said to himself. He lifted a corner of the checkered towel from the bowl.

Wow! The bowl was clear full now with a large, puffy white lump. Jimmy just had to stick a couple of fingers into it . . . Poof! The soft white stuff fell back down into the bowl. Jimmy waited, but it didn't come back up. He waited and waited—nothing happened.

"I've got to hide this mess," Jimmy decided, "but I can't put it in the trash 'cause Mommy will see it there. I know—I'll bury it." He got his sand shovel and went out to the flower bed in front of the house. He couldn't dig very deeply with his little shovel, so he divided the white stuff into three smaller pieces and put each part into a shallow hole behind the plants. Then he scraped dirt back over them and took the bowl back into the kitchen. He washed and dried it carefully and put it away. Now the kitchen looked just as it had when Mother left it—almost.

Later in the afternoon, Daddy came home from work, and Jimmy could hear him and Mother talking in the kitchen. Soon they called him to come there as well. Daddy was holding Jimmy's shovel. "Did you leave your shovel out by the flower bed?" he asked.

"Um, hmm, I guess so," Jimmy admitted.

"And I am wondering what happened to the bread dough," Mother said. "Do you know anything about it?"

"Uh, no," Jimmy answered, but his heart began beating very fast.

"Come with us," Mother said. "We want to show you something." Jimmy followed his parents out of the kitchen, through the hallway, and out the front door. They stood in front of the flowerbed, and there Jimmy saw three lumpy white globs of dough rising from the small holes he had dug, each crowned with a sprinkling of dirt!

Jimmy began to cry and hid his face against his mother's legs. "I'm sorry, Mommy," he sobbed, and he told her all about disobeying and poking the bread and burying it and not telling the truth. Daddy was kind, but he was very stern when he explained that wrong cannot be kept hidden, and "Be sure your sin will find you out."

If something is to be hidden, let it be God's Word! "Your word I have hidden in my heart, that I might not sin against You."

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Difficult People

Most of us probably have a person, or several, in our lives who do not—cannot or will not—care about us as we care about them. This is especially difficult if we would ordinarily expect the connection to be a close one, as with a parent, a child, a “significant other” or spouse. In my own relationships, I find that I desperately want to know which: are they really unable to form a close tie or do they just not want to? And why is that? Sure, I can say, “That’s just the way he/she is,” but that is not very satisfying. I want to change the situation.

“Ay, there’s the rub,” as Shakespeare’s Hamlet would say, meaning “And that’s the problem.” As much as I might want to change someone’s interaction with me, I really cannot control that. The only person I can change is me; the only person who can change the other is the other. Understanding why someone does not relate positively to me or others may very well be something I cannot know. Sometimes I simply have to accept the fact that they do not relate well and that the only thing I can determine is what I will do with that reality.

“Love is a choice.” “Love is a decision.” “Love is more than just a feeling.” Many writers and speakers have pointed this out to us, and after we live with people for awhile, we realize that it really is true. At the same time, however, we must realize that some people’s “choosers” when it comes to loving have been badly damaged. This may have been done long ago unintentionally, perhaps by parents devoid of emotion or by an unstable environment. Other people may have experienced some cruel counterfeit of love in their early years of social development. Or it can be the long-practiced selfishness of the individual himself/herself. If you are like me, you would like to fix that person so that he/she can love freely.

Sorry—that’s just not possible. It may help us be patient if we realize that difficult people probably don’t like themselves much either, but we cannot change that for them. What we can do is change how we relate to the person. We can let go. We don't have to deny the fact that his/her behavior hurts us or embarrasses us or just annoys us. We're not crazy for feeling what we feel; some behaviors really are damaging or inappropriate or tiresome. But we cannot make them give to the relationship what they are unable or unwilling to give. So then, while we can develop a tolerance for these difficult people, we also have the right to establish some healthy boundaries about our interaction with them.

It may not be as simple as just avoiding them, especially in the home or workplace where we have obligations that require personal encounter. What we can do is detach ourselves a bit from the emotional friction caused by being “rubbed the wrong way.” It’s only a guess, but I’m thinking that expression comes from our childhood lessons on how to pet a cat; they are irritated by having the stroking ruffle their fur instead of smooth it. In my experience, the cat rubbed the wrong way did not bite or scratch, but neither did it cozy up for more of the same treatment. It moved away. It detached. In a relationship, this would mean to stop letting what I am not getting from that person control my life.

Easy enough to say . . . hard to do. The Apostle Paul had the right perspective in his letter to the church at Corinth, anticipating that some of the factious members there would be disparaging of him. "It matters very little to me what you think of me," he wrote boldly, "even less where I rank in popular opinion. I don't even rank myself. Comparisons in these matters are pointless. I'm not aware of anything that would disqualify me from being a good guide for you, but that doesn't mean much. The Master makes that judgment." (I Corinthians 4:3, 4) Paul was detached. He loved the Corinthians, but he was not dependent on their returned love and approval to guide his own actions or his sense of worth. That direction and value came from his Lord.

So could we be a little more like Paul and not try so hard to take the whole responsibility for our relationships with difficult people?

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Read a related article: Letting Go here

Scripture taken from THE MESSAGE. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Love Is Kind

I watched as a friend of mine gave gentle assistance to an aging relative at the care home. The patient's memory is failing now, and the weekly visits are sometimes not even remembered. The promised inheritance to my friend has long since been depleted, spent on the care the elder did not anticipate needing.

I went away, pondering the situation. I decided I would question my friend, "Do you really love Sylvia, or are you just being kind?" With a start of realization, I asked myself, "But is there really a difference?"

We are so accustomed to equating love with warm, fuzzy feelings or with excited energy or with comfortable sameness that we sometimes give little thought to the real meaning. The defining chapter of Scripture in regard to love (I Corinthians 13) does not identify different characteristics for different forms of love. That is, God's love for us, the love of parents for their children, and romantic love do not have separate sets of traits. Different forms of love are expressed differently, but they bear the same qualities.

And here is how I see it in my friend—warm, fuzzy feelings or not.

"Love is patient," listening to the same stories of times past
     over and over again.
"Love is kind," helping in gentle ways, explaining the institution rules softly.
"It does not envy," although others may not share the responsibilities.
"It does not boast," calling attention to her sacrifices.
"It is not self-seeking," ignoring personal expenditure of time,energy,
     and funds.
"It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres,"
     because, she told me, she had years ago made a commitment
     to "see to things" when the older lady no longer could.
     (from I Corinthians 13:4-7 NIV))

Jesus said—twice in one teaching—in regard to those who made false claims about belonging to His Kingdom, "You can identify them by their fruit, that is, by the way they act. Yes, just as you can identify a tree by its fruit, so you can identify people by their actions." (Matthew 7:16, 20)

In the dictionary, one listing for "love" is as a noun. In real life, it has to be a verb. Love is what I do and what I say. There is little real difference, I decided, between "really loving" and "just being kind."

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture quotation marked NIV is 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 quotation marked NLT 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.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

The Making of a Miracle

We use the word "miracle" a lot, and it can mean many things. A miracle cleaning solution implies that it does a great job. A miracle weight loss program promises you can expect results if you follow the rules. The other day I saw a business sign that invited, "Do you need a miracle? Let us help you." The goods and services offered there were intended to change my life, I'm sure! But in a life of personal faith, miracle means "an extraordinary event manifesting Divine intervention in human affairs." But not just any old human affairs, my own, if you will.

There are some things that simply are not going to happen without that Divine intervention. But that does not mean we have no part at all in the process. (You do know that many miracles are a process?) Many of the miracles Jesus performed during His earthly ministry were life-and-death matters. People were suffering, dying, or even already dead. But His very first miracle, at the Cana wedding, was not of that crucial sort. The groom's family simply ran out of wine. Mary observed this social disaster and said to her Son, "They have no wine." His answer was something like, "Am I supposed to do something about this?" Nevertheless, Mary turned to the servants nearby and told them, "Do whatever He tells you to do."

And they did. Against all reason, they filled six great twenty- or thirty-gallon waterpots with water, and then began to pour it out into the serving vessels. Lo! It had become wine. It was a miracle!

There are several amazing things about this miracle in addition to the obvious water-into-wine one. First, the stage was set for a miracle when the servants were ready to obey whatever Jesus said. We foolishly ask God to intervene in our lives and then refuse to take the action that His Spirit prompts. For example, I have known homes where the "breadwinner" refuses to go to work, claiming, "God will provide for us; the Bible says 'the sinner’s wealth passes to the godly.' " Another might say, "God's angels have charge over me to keep me from harm," but he/she drives recklessly, does not buckle up, and may add to both of those an animated phone conversation. We cannot execute a miracle, speak one into existence, or engineer a command performance. What we can do is cooperate with God's intent, setting the stage for Him to work.

The second surprising thing is that Jesus did not consider it a waste of Divine energy to perform the miracle that salvaged a happy occasion and a man's reputation as a good host. How did we ever come by our ideas that God is against good times and that He is not concerned about our personal well-being? This miracle reveals His nature to be very different from that.

And the third wonderful thing: When the master of ceremonies tasted the excellent new wine, he called the bridegroom over and said to him, "The hosts I've known always serve the finest wine first, and then when everyone has had plenty to drink, he brings out the cheaper stuff. But you saved the best until now!” The Scripture explains, "He didn't know what had just happened but the servants, of course, knew." When God reaches into our situation and changes it, some people may look at us and say, "How lucky!" But we ourselves know that, by our obedience, we have been involved in the smallest way. We can enjoy a special secret delight in what God has accomplished by the making of a miracle!

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

But He Never Hit Me

Because of its relevance to women in particular, I have moved this post to my blog, "Claiming Our Selves," written especially for women. I invite you to read it here.

Tools for the Task

Tools for the Task

I have quite an assortment of tools around my house and in my garage. There are tools for writing, sewing and gardening, for building and painting, for cooking and cleaning, and for yard work and car care. I do not use all of them equally well; as a matter of fact, some of them are not for my own use at all. I keep them for other hands more skillful than mine. The tools themselves, as they lie waiting to be picked up, have only limited intrinsic value. It is when they are controlled by someone that they are empowered.

The "members" of each person's body, the Scripture says, are instruments of righteousness or unrighteousness, depending on to whom we give control. "Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness." (Romans 6:13) As we live our ordinary day-to-day lives, we yield our bodies to be used as instruments or "tools" for either God's task of redemption in our world or Satan's task of destruction. Which will it be?

In inept hands, the tools in my home produce poor, sometimes ugly, results. But God's hands, when we let Him use us as instruments of righteousness, produce only what is lovely and good and pleasing in His own sight. He has the pattern, and He knows what He intends to do with His tools. Yielded to Him we become a part of His great workmanship!

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

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.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Choose Your Own Adventure

The children’s section of our local library has over a hundred titles in a classic series called “Choose Your Own Adventure.” This is not a book to be read from beginning to end. Instead, every page or two the reader is directed to another place in the book and confronted with several ways to solve the problem or danger presented there. Depending on the option, he/she is directed to yet another section of the book. After a number of decisive points in the story, the reader comes to an ending, of which there are many—sometimes over forty!

That’s a lot like life, isn’t it? In fact, the author says that the series is all about choices, made in a simulated environment without the risks of the real world. You make choices leading to different endings, and if you don’t like the ending, you can start again with different choices leading to a different ending. Here the fantasy differs from reality; we cannot always re-do our choices.

His point, however, is well-made. We make choices all the time. There may be only a few occasions in a lifetime when we make a truly monumental decision. Most of the time, we make smaller judgments, choosing this option or that one, and that leads to the next opportunity and the next choice.

Choosing your own adventure is great fun when it’s on the printed page. It’s pretty scary when it’s real life! Who knows? We might choose our own calamity or destruction rather than success and happiness! How blessed we are as God’s children that we’re not left to “luck” or blind choice. “Who are those who fear the Lord? He will show them the path they should choose." (Psalm 25:12) We can go unafraid into the year that lies ahead of us.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

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.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Things Mama Taught Me: Sunshine Kills Germs

Scarlet fever, a "strep" disease, is not the threat it once was. Having been treated with antibiotics for a period of twenty-four hours, the sufferer—usually a child—can return to school and other activities as soon as they feel better and have no fever. (Mayo Clinic) How different it was when I was a youngster!

When I was seven years old, I caught scarlet fever at school and brought it home to my four brothers. One by one, they too became ill. At the time, isolation was used during outbreaks of highly contagious diseases, so our home was put under quarantine by the health department for the duration of the whole family's illness. This was a long time, all summer as I recall, since we did not have any treatment except the loving and precautionary care of my mother. In order to avoid exposure and continue to work, my father had to stay out of our home with a relative, coming by only to deliver groceries to our front yard.

When the disease had finally run its course, we had to clean everything in the house, disposing of whatever we could. The precious books and paper dolls that had entertained me while I was bedfast had to be burned. (Fortunately, some wise friends had provided two copies of the gifts they brought—one for the quarantine period and one for after we were all well!) The things that were kept had to be washed with disinfectant or laid out in the sunshine. "Sunshine kills germs," my mother told me.

Actually, light eliminates a lot of things. A deterrent to night-time invasion of homes and businesses is bright light, and pedestrians are urged to seek well-lit areas. Vehicles of all kinds are required to be lighted, if not so the driver can see, then for his/her safety and that of others also on the road. Mold grows best in conditions of darkness, moisture, and stagnant air—the refrigerator is perfect!

In human life, the same truth exists. It doesn't take a criminal personality to prefer darkness to light; one has only to read the newspaper to discover that people in every walk of life are keeping everyone else "in the dark" about their real selves and their lives. One has only to read the Bible to realize that this has been so for a very long time. "This is the crisis we're in: God-light streamed into the world, but men and women everywhere ran for the darkness. They went for the darkness because they were not really interested in pleasing God. Everyone who makes a practice of doing evil, addicted to denial and illusion, hates God-light and won't come near it, fearing a painful exposure. But anyone working and living in truth and reality welcomes God-light so the work can be seen for the God-work it is." (John 3:19)

Back in the '50s, we were singing a Stuart Hamblen song, "Open up Your Heart and Let the Sunshine In." Over fifty years later, that is still good advice.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture taken from The Message. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Responsibility for the Life You Have

“The first step toward having the life you want is taking responsibility for the life you have now.”

Our society has developed a lot of “victims.” Anyone who looks hard enough can find logical reasons for being who and what they are: poor parenting, a traumatic incident, mental illness, disability, situations of abuse, the list goes on and on. I do not want to minimize how these conditions affect the lives of those who experience them; these are not small matters. It takes great courage and perhaps even obstinacy to overcome the tremendous odds against a happy and productive life. That is just my point. Rather than accepting the role of victim, some people have found the necessary courage and determination within themselves to rise above their difficult circumstances.

In recent months, I have read the sad but inspiring true accounts of such individuals: poor parenting (Blue Genes: A Memoir of Loss and Survival), trauma (Amish Grace), mental illness (Izzy & Lenore: Two Dogs, an Unexpected Journey, and Me), disability (Against Medical Advice), abuse (Leaving the Saints), financial ruin and homelessness (Breakfast at Sally’s). These stories show me that it is difficult, but not impossible, to take charge of your life instead of succumbing to self-justification, complaints about the unfairness of life, and accusations against those who have done you wrong.

Many speakers and writers have likened life to a game of cards, where one of the rules is that you have to play the hand you are dealt. In some games, you may be able to draw some other cards, trade a few, or capture someone else’s. Only a poor sport would throw his/her cards down and say, “I don’t like my hand; I’m not going to play.” In one respect, the game analogy for life does hold true: Nobody has control over where he/she starts in life, that is, the circumstances into which one is born and the early events and influences. Nobody has control over later tragedy that can alter life in an instant. He/she must play the hand they have been dealt.

Different from a game is the opportunity life gives to make clear-cut choices. As you gain independence from childhood or from the numbness of trauma, you have a greater degree of self-determination. You can, in fact, say, “I don’t like the hand I’ve been given but I can’t change that. I don’t like what I’ve done with my hand. I’m starting over.”

That choice is not easy, because the difficult circumstances that gave life its rough patch are still there. But having made that choice, begin looking around for help. Ask God for courage and insight. Learn how other people rebuilt their lives. Consider whether professional counsel might benefit you. See if journaling contributes to your progress or whether you can talk with a supportive friend.

Don’t be in a hurry! If you spent years making the life you now have, it may take awhile to build the life you want. But it is there for you!

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Something's Following You!

"Don't look now," I might say to you, "but something's following you!" And of course, you turn to look!

Pay close attention and you will discover that it is blessings that are chasing you, hunting you down until finally they catch you! God's goodness is coming after you! The psalmist wrote, "Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever." (Psalm 23:6) Sometimes a blessing comes temporarily disguised, and you will see only a problem or an uneasy situation. Don't run away! You will be forfeiting the goodness and unfailing love that surely come afterward.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Gate of the Year

A hundred years ago, a lecturer at the London School of Economics had a collection of poems published in a volume called “The Desert.” Although Minnie Louise Haskins was not well-known as a poet, one of the poems entitled “God Knows” gained public attention and acclaim when Queen Mother Elizabeth handed a copy to her husband, King George VI, and he quoted from it (the first two stanzas as printed below) in his 1939 Christmas broadcast to the British Empire.

This was in the early days of the Second World War, and at the time no one was certain Britain could win their engagement in it. The poem, which we know as “The Gate of the Year,” remained a source of comfort to the Queen for the rest of her life, and she had its words engraved on brass plaques at the gates of Windsor Castle’s Memorial Chapel where the King was interred. Subsequently, the words were read at her own state funeral and she also was buried at the chapel after her death in 2002.

I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year,
'Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.'

And he replied, 'Go into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God.
That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way!'

So I went forth and finding the Hand of God trod gladly into the night.
He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone east.

So heart be still! What need our human life to know if God hath comprehension?
In all the dizzy strife of things both high and low, God hideth his intention.

God knows. His will is best. The stretch of years which wind ahead,
So dim to our imperfect vision, are clear to God.

Our fears are premature. In Him all time hath full provision.
Then rest; until God moves to lift the veil from our impatient eyes,

When, as the sweeter features of life's stern face we hail,
Fair beyond all surmise, God's thought around His creatures our minds shall fill.

We are at the beginning of a new year, a gateway to some uncertainties as we face our country’s economic crisis, new leadership at the national level, environmental challenges, war, humanitarian extremities, and political, cultural and spiritual unrest. What are we to do? Are we at the mercy of the overwhelming tide of trouble?

No, put your hand into the hand of God. That is better than a light to see what is ahead, for just seeing it does not necessarily mean the ability to cope with it all alone. Seeing what is ahead could rob us of joys as well; who would want to trade mere knowledge for the thrill of an unexpected gift, the pleasure of a new friendship, or the satisfaction of a hard-earned accomplishment? He sees the path, and we can trust Him.

Put your hand into the hand of God. That is safer than a known way, for although a path may feel familiar, there may be new, unseen dangers for which we cannot possibly prepare in advance—figuratively equivalent to an unmarked bridge out, a ten-car pileup in a blinding snowstorm, or a gunman waiting to assault. Walking only familiar paths might make us feel safe, but it would also mean no exciting challenges, no hope or anticipation, no growth. He knows the path, and we can trust Him.


MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com