Christmas Problems

"I am SO tired...and I still have 2 more rooms to clean before company comes!"

"I don't know what to buy my parents for Christmas."

"Daggone it! I lost my cell phone."

"What a time to have my muffler fall off! This is the busiest time of year and I have to do without my car all afternoon!"

"Ugh. The thing I hate most about Christmas is taking down the decorations afterwards."

"This cough. If it doesn't go away, I'm going to have to go to the doctor and get another prescription."

Problems. Do you know what kind of problems they are?

Rich people problems.

Say what????

Yep. Everyone of those statements could only be made by one of us rich people. Yeah, I hear you. You say you aren't rich, and it's getting worse with everything the government is doing with medical care and taxes. I totally get it. My husband and I are in the age bracket that's getting hit incredibly hard. With extra taxes and less medical care, our income is dropping by thousands in 2014.

But, still--you are reading a blog written by one of the richest people in the world, and you, my dear reader, are most likely one of the richest as well. If you have an annual income of $25,000, you are in the top 10% of the entire world. If you earn $47,500, you are in the top 1%. Amazing.

I should mention, even though I am so rich, I drive a 1999 used Buick, my husband drives a van with 246,000+ miles on it. But we drive. We have cars. Only rich people do. And I forgot to mention, we have a garage they both fit into so we don't have to scrape windows in the frigid mornings. We're so crazy rich we not only have a house WE live in and decorate for the holidays, we have a special place for the CARS to live in. Is that nuts or what??

I lose my cell phone on a daily basis. But Charlie and I both have cellphones. I can be in constant contact with my other rich friends and family members because they all have phones.

Most medicine I need is right in my medicine cabinet. Did you hear that? I am so rich, I can afford to keep enough medicine on hand that I designate a cabinet to keep it in. Mind blowing.

I have enough clothes that I have to make a place in my bedroom to hang them all, and the floor of the closet is covered with pairs of shoes, when I only have 2 feet. I have some articles in my closet I haven't worn in months. Crazy to be this well off.

We have a refrigerator in our house stuffed with food and drinks that need to be kept cold, and shelves for other food. But just yesterday I came in from work and asked my husband, "Is there anything to eat?" I am so rich, I can afford to be picky.

I have friends who have enough money to disagree how they spend it, and they end their marriages over it. That's too rich. Way too rich.

So many of the people I have met in this world are not rich like me. They don't have rich people problems. Their issues sound like this:

"There isn't enough water to wash the clothes. We could only carry enough to drink." And the water is brown.

"Are there any shoes in that bag that could fit Simo? He hasn't had any this year."

"Oh, Jesus! Please make my baby well! Everyone is dying! Please, not my baby!"

"Just beans or rice today. It's almost all gone."

Yet they sing "Joy to the World, the Lord is come!" with gusto.

Me and my rich friends--well, we sure are happy that Jesus came. But we need Santa to come, too. You understand that, don't you? And, for real--Santa needs to put some thought into it. The right gift shows you care. Lots of relational problems develop over a disappointing Christmas.

Yep. Me and my rich friends. We sure have problems.

Pray for us, won't you?

I Love My Job......

I love my job. I love the people, the atmosphere, the challenge, the rewards of transformed lives. I love finding diamonds in the rough, and being part of the process of shaping and polishing them into 5 carat jewels.  It's more than a job, however. It's a calling.  If it was simply a job, when the rewards were slow and low, the challenges high and many, and I had unrelenting pressure from a part of the job that kept me awake nights, I could just change jobs. Get a new one. Go someplace else. But the call of God is not like that. Ask Jeremiah. Ask Hosea. Ask Paul. Ask Jesus. Part of the job for every pastoral leader, a person who leads people in the Kingdom of God, is to be a prophet.

Typically we only think of prophets as "foretellers", people who tell the future. But a biblical prophet is a "forth-teller", one who rings out the unchanging word of God and the truth of God in the midst of the chaos of change. One might think this would be an exciting and fulfilling opportunity. After all, we all love the truth, don't we?  And Jesus said that the truth would set us free, didn't he? Well, yes, he did. But the overlooked fact is that in Jesus' ministry to real, live, human beings with the personal will and freedom of choice, much of the time, hearing the truth made Jesus' hearers miserable first. Truth is, being the Truth and telling the truth got him killed. It's an age-old problem. I love MY truth, not necessarily THE Truth.

It was that way from the beginning. When God called Ezekiel, he was absolutely candid about the prospects. "The people to whom I am sending you are obstinate and stubborn. Say to them, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says.’ And whether they listen or fail to listen—for they are a rebellious people—they will know that a prophet has been among them. And you, son of man, do not be afraid of them or their words...Do not be afraid of what they say or be terrified by them, though they are a rebellious people. You must speak my words to them, whether they listen or fail to listen, for they are rebellious. But you, son of man, listen to what I say to you. Do not rebel like that rebellious people." (Ezekiel 2:4-6)  The Apostle Paul, one of the most stellar leaders of all time, spoke from personal experience in leading from an unchanging truth base. He encouraged the Hebrews, "Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls as those who will give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with grief, for this would be unprofitable for you." (Hebrews 3:17)

These instructions speak to both the pastor and the people over whom he/she has responsibility. First, truth is not a majority decision. God says whether the people mostly listen or they mostly don't makes no difference. There is no referendum on truth. It is unchanging. Our listening or not listening to God's truth makes a statement about US, and OUR hearts, not on the truth. Second, fear is the reason truth is so hard. We fear rejection and loss. We fear retaliation. We fear misunderstanding. We fear we will not ever be proven right. God is plain that all of us we need to hold HIM in reverence more than we fear the disapproval of others. As others have said so well, we primarily play to an audience of One.  Third, if I am placed in a position by God to be the truth-teller and I DON'T do it, I am rebelling just like the disobedient people to whom he is wanting me to speak.

Paul adds such a tender note to all of this. Truth-telling was never designed or desired by God to be a fire-breathing, eyebrow singeing process. He pictures it as a part of the responsibility of a very loving, responsible leader, who is guarding and protecting the eternal souls of people, knowing they will answer to God for how they handled their responsibility for those beyond precious commodities.  And I love his last words. When we are "watched over" by someone who cares for our souls, he urges us to cooperate with them and the process so that it is a joyfilled undertaking, not filled with loss and grief. He says that there is no profit to those who need the truth without this right attitude. 

So, back to the beginning. I do love my job. I do love my calling. I have a double-sided responsibility. I am not only IN authority as a caretaker of souls; I have those who watch over me. I freshly commit to receiving the truth and counsel God gives them for me. Joy to the World! The TRUTH has come!

The Six Week Sprint

Thanksgiving is the starting gun for the race to the end of the year. I love this season. It seems to me that the month from Thanksgiving through Christmas, and then another week to New Year's Day, is so filled with family, celebration, general hustle and hilarity (yes...and football)  that the days simply fly by. The last twelfth of the year is here and gone before we know it.

Something I anticipate almost as much as the partying with family and friends is time by myself. These are the weeks every year when I do personal reflection and evaluation, and then planning for the next year, should I be favored with 365 more treasured days of opportunity. I look back through the months, weeks, days and moments that have passed, and take an honest 360 degree read: how well did I do? Did I make significant impact with my one and only life? Did the people who count on me for love, direction, support get my best? Do I look and act more like Jesus than I did on January 1? The things I did this past year--are they the significant things in which he would have invested his life?

I always have some moments of chagrin when I acknowledge particular areas I could have an should have done better. But my Heavenly Father is quick to encourage me to press on for the next days. That's a guarantee we only get as committed Christ-followers. We are the only ones who know for certain that the best is yet to come! So, after the evaluation is over, I celebrate my wins, and move on to the next chapter. Every year of my life I want to be more significant for Christ and His Kingdom than the year before. When that is true, every other piece of my life sees me attaining goals and significance. When He is your Life-Director, you do well in all the important arenas you surrender to him.

Years back a young man wrote to Mother Teresa with a compelling question--one that might be on your mind as you contemplate the year that will end and the one that will start in about 35 days. The letter writer knew that this humble woman who reached the world's stage from a life buried in the needs of the most broken in Calcutta's slums was obviously one who would know the answer. "What can I do to have a significant life?"

Mother Teresa's postcard reply was four simple words: "Find your own Calcutta." She was saying, "Find a person or people who need you, and then give yourself to loving them." That's a definite life plan for anyone who wants to actually do something significant with their one and only life.

You don't have to go to Calcutta to find YOUR Calcutta. Mine is right here. Akron, Ohio. All around me are people who are lost, like sheep without a Shepherd. They need truth--direct, honest, loving, delivered with an arm of help around their shoulders. They need someone to believe that they can flourish, and challenge them to it. They need to live with a Big Picture. God works with me to keep my radar tuned for people who need the difference He and I can make. I wake up every day with the expectation, "I am going to make a significant difference today."

But it's not a random expectation. It is a decision I made in the last twelfth of the year before. This is my shot. By God, it will be significant.

Stories You Didn't Hear in Sunday School

I'm not a sissy. Not particularly skittish or squeamish. I am a faithful fan of THE WALKING DEAD, for pity sakes. I think I've earned my stripes.

But I've been poring over the Old Testament in depth lately, reading quite a few stories Mrs. Jennings didn't tell me in Sunday School, stories Mom never read before we went to bed, either. Some of them give me chills. Goosebumps. Literally. Some downright brutal, awful things. Now, before you jump to conclusions about a raging, tyrannical, violent God, that's not what these stories are about. The God in them has a broken heart. He didn't want any of these awful things to happen. But every story has one theme in common. Every single horror story was acted out by someone who had put their own desires and opinions above everyone else, and had chosen to live out, "I will do this. What I feel, want, desire is more important than anything else."

Actually, I hear some pretty frightful stories that are being written and acted out every week myself. I haven't seen anyone cut to pieces literally, but I have seen people left with their heart, soul, and sense of dignity left in shreds.  Haven't seen eyes poked or burnt out, but I have seen people so seared by evil and poor decisions they can't see truth or goodness anymore. I haven't seen children sacrificed to Baal, but I have seen them sacrificed to careers, sexual precociousness and predators, dilatory parents...oh, so many idols of our day. Oh, the stories I could tell.

The difference in the Old Testament stories is that every one knows who the bad guys are, and calls them out.  Today we pretend we don't. We pretend no one (not even God in His Word) gets to decide what is wrong or right for someone else. Everyone gets to do what makes them feel good, empowered, fulfilled--no matter what.

Now there's a scary story.

The First Snow of the Season

While many northeastern Ohioans were crying, "OH, NO!" in dismay, I was gleefully exulting, "Oh, SNOW!" I love all four seasons, and the first snow sighting still revs my engines. Our three grandchildren were on our porch as the first flakes lazily drifted down. Apparently, snow dance moves are genetically passed through the generations, because I immediately recognized their hip-hops and hand claps, accompanied by delighted squeals. I had done the dance many times myself, and even now my feet started the snow boogie again.

Snow is so easy to love. For starters, snow is quietly powerful. Without a sound, it just does its thing. We go to bed at night, and by morning the silent snow has blanketed the world and shut the entire city down. No fanfare. Just consistently persevering.

Then there's that teamwork thing. Left to itself, a snowflake is infinitely fragile. It accomplishes nothing, melts and is gone in a nano-second. But together--wow. Those snowflakes are a mighty force. Together they can make 6 foot high drifts, bow tree limbs in half, and last an entire winter.

How about its way of making less than beautiful things shimmer and shine? There's a little old house on our road that is unkempt and substandard in every way. It would be a compliment to call it ordinary. But give us a good snowfall, and that house looks like a storybook cottage. The snow covers its flaws, and allows it to take a place among homes that please the eye during any season. Reminds me of Peter's perspective: "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." I Peter 4:8

Quiet, unassuming, persevering power. Consistency and teamwork. Graciously making things beautiful. 

 Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.