May I Endure

The Lord has used my lack of enthusiasm on the treadmill to remind me of something critical to a walk of faith.

The need for Endurance.

That ability, that will to continue despite boredom, fatigue, pain, or any other adverse condition.

I suspect people who press on with exercise endure because they have a clear vision of their goal. They see those sculpted biceps and abs, and they want them enough to keep on. I lack that vision and do just enough to qualify as healthy.

But I don’t want to be like that in my journey of faith. In fact, the older I get and the more I see the dangers of the times in which we live, the more I realize if we don’t endure, we will live ineffective lives and worse—fold under pressure.

Lots of things discourage us along the way. We get tired of waiting for God to answer a prayer. (Plenty of biblical examples of that happening—remember when the Israelites gave up on Moses and made themselves a golden calf? Or when Saul took matters into his own hands because Samuel hadn’t shown up?)

Or maybe we’ve been in a terrible situation with no respite for so long that we just can’t take another thing. Having never suffered to any great extent, I certainly don’t want to throw any easy words around.

But I do want to know, how do we develop a will to endure?

As I was thinking about this, I was reminded of a woman I first heard about early in my Christian walk. At the time, I couldn’t imagine how Joni Eareckson Tada could possibly live, much less triumph in the Lord.

Seventeen years old. Outdoorsy. Loved horses, independence. One July afternoon as she arched in a dive from a raft, poised between air and water, heaven and hell, the fullness and vibrancy of life as she knew it was about to die.

She hit her head on the bottom. Unable to move, she floated face down on the surface, hoping her sister would hurry and help. But her sister, unaware, had already headed back to shore.

And then, the smallest of events saved a life. A crab bit her sister’s foot. She turned to warn Joni and saw her, hair spread like floating seaweed on top of the water.

If God could use a little, dumb crab to save her life, why didn’t He control the arc of her dive, you might wonder. I’m sure she did too during the next few years that she struggled to escape the sentence of life as a quadriplegic. Not able to kill herself, she tried to get her friends to help.

Having no euthanizing sympathizers, Joni endured.

Well over forty years now. Her endurance is not simply a matter of resignation though. It is active, embracing life.  She’s a wife; she sings, paints with her mouth, has a radio program and runs a global ministry that has brought help and hope to thousands.

Joni’s learned the hard truth of Romans 5:3:

 "God used this injury to develop in me patience and endurance and tolerance and self-control  and steadfastness and sensitivity and love and joy. Those things didn’t matter much    when I was on my feet but, boy, they began to matter after I began living life in a wheelchair. I began to see that this is what made me a truly peaceful person. This is what real beauty was all about. This is what purpose in life involved. Being made somebody special, somebody significant, way down deep on the inside and beginning to share that with smiles and encouragement to others." http://joniearecksontadastory.com/jonis-story-page-1/

You would think she’s proven her faithfulness, earned her crown of endurance.

But in 2010, Joni was diagnosed with breast cancer.

In a PBS interview with Kim Lawton Joni tells us how she and her husband faced her diagnosis of breast cancer.

 "I remember one time my husband was driving me home from chemotherapy and I was particularly  nauseous, and we started talking about how our sufferings, this cancer, is like a little splash-over of hell, that kind of like wakes you up out of your spiritual slumber like, “Whoa!” And so, then we started thinking, well than what are splash-overs of heaven? Are they those days when everything is easy and breezy and bright, and there are no problems? He looked at me in the rearview mirror and said, “No, I think splash-overs of heaven are finding God, or finding Jesus in your splash-over of hell.”

Still, she and her loved ones must struggle with these ravages of a fallen world. And Tada is the first to say not to put her on pedestal.

So how does she handle it?

Daily, Diligently. With discipline she takes control over her emotions and her thoughts before they run over her.

She doesn’t waste time asking the mysterious “whys” of suffering.

And she sets her eyes on a heavenly vision.

"I began to get a buoyant, lively hope of heavenly glories above. In other words this wheelchair helps me see that the good things in this life aren’t the best things. There are better things yet to come. The good things in this life are only omens and foreshadowing of more glorious, grand, great things to burst on the scene when we walk into the other side of eternity. I don’t have to remind you that sometimes Heaven and Hell are participating in the exact same events in your life but what happens, and who gets the glory and whose motive is brought to fulfillment in your life, is entirely your choice. The grace is God’s but the choice is yours but, oh, what wonderful things happen, when you trust in God and make a choice to go for His plan, to believe in His purpose, to hold on to His motives for your life."

Endurance. Dear friends.

Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witness, let us lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the author and finisher of our faith…--Hebrews 12:1

 

Marcia

Mortification and Words of Life

We use thousands of them a day—by some accounts up to 20, 000. Many of them empty. Powerless to deliver consolation or hope, our words fall to the ground like arrows short of their mark. 

How many times, for example, have we patted someone on the back and told them, “It will be OK,”? Even though we mean well, we have no way of knowing or influencing the outcome.  Our friend shrugs an, “I know,” but goes away as dejected and unbelieving as before.

Sometimes I read the words in my Bible like that. I hear God say them, but don’t really believe they will help or change a particular situation in my life. I don’t believe ANYTHING can help.

Last week was one of those times.  I inadvertently did something that mortified me. Even though I immediately tried to correct the situation, the deed was done. The hounds of shame, humiliation, anger, and embarrassment pounded so relentlessly that I ran away.

I ended up a lake. The beauty of the sun, the flotilla of coots in the cove, the soft slapping of ripples from passing boats assuaged some of my distress; still, I didn’t know how to get past what was done.

After a while I had the impression to read Isaiah 54. Doubting even Isaiah could help, I opened to the passage. Verse four: “Fear not, for you will not be ashamed; be not confounded, for you will not be disgraced .... “The chapter ends, “This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord and their vindication is from me.”

You would think those words brought immediate relief, but comforting as there were, they didn’t touch my misery. Because I didn’t receive them.

As  I got up to leave, I saw in my mind’s eye, a piece of paper on the bench, and I heard the Lord say, so gently, “Are you going to leave this word here, like a discarded scrap on a park bench?”

“But the word they heard did not profit them because it was not united by faith in those who heard”—Hebrews 4:2  

I sat down, opened to Isaiah once again. The sun danced off the ripples, the coots floated by. Living words, words of life, words of hope washed over me. 

When you received from us the word of God’s message you accepted it not as the word of men but for what it really is the word of God which also performs its work in you who believe.—1 Thessalonians 2:13

May the blessings of living words from a living God fill your heart today.

Marcia

Kissing the Crotchety Kin Goodbye

The word crotchety popped up while I was reflecting on the destructive power of a critical spirit this morning, The remarkable thing about this word is not only does it sound like it means (crotchety=cantankerous and contrary) but it has a whole bunch of relatives—a whole crotchety clan of adjectives—who also reflect their meanings straight up. 

Meet cousins crusty, crabby, surly, snarky, liverish, fractious, peevish, irascible, prickly and testy.

Usually, crotchety is followed by “old”—a crotchety old man. (Although when I asked my daughter to use crotchety in a sentence, she said, without hesitation mind you, “a crotchety old woman . . .” Hmm.

But as I considered this, I concluded a crotchety disposition doesn’t just show up along with the social security check one day. Granted, as we age we get more settled in habit, prefer peace to chaos, and order to disorder, the latter more likely a response to the need to find things. A bit of prickle may be in order, but a cantankerous spirit is a reflection of a lifetime of critical, annoyed, and intolerant responses.

Likewise, a generous, gracious spirit in old age is a result of a lifetime of practice in honoring others, in picking the logs out of your own eye before seeing them in others’.

I am reminded of a story I read in one of Dale Carnegie’s books about Bob Hoover, a famous pilot. He was coming back from an air show when the engines in his plane failed. He managed to land safely, although the plane suffered much damaged. Hoover immediately understood the problem: a mechanic had put jet fuel in his prop plane instead of gasoline.

This was no little annoyance. This was a you-deserve-a whoppin’  kind of mistake. A matter of life and limb.

The mechanic was understandably distraught when Hoover came to see him. But instead of berating him or dishing out his deserved punishment, Hoover told the mechanic that because he knew he would never make that mistake again, he wanted him to service his plane the next day.

Now that is an example of great character. Character that didn’t just show up one fine moment. Character, I suspect, that was developed, strengthened, and honed over a lifetime of practice.

We have a choice today what the lines on our faces will reveal tomorrow.

Time to kiss the crotchey kin goodbye.

May you recognize the grace, may you see his face in all you do today.

Marcia

Heroes of another sort

Some people are heroes, not for doing great and noble acts, but for doing with grace and perseverance the ones that reek of “unfair” and “why me." Tim and Dena Stromstad, founders of Homes of Life ministries in Guatemala and Costa Rica, are this kind of hero in my eyes.

Twice, in the past four years, burglars have broken into the seven-acre compound that houses the staff and children of Hogar de Vida, a home for abandoned and abused children in Costa Rica. In 2008, thieves cut through the living fence of dense trees and cane, killed the dogs and stole Tim’s ATV.

Plans for installing expensive security cameras, guard dogs, and a concrete wall were initiated, and as donations permitted, the north side of the property was secured. Still, thousands of dollars short left three sides vulnerable.

Last fall, the lowest of lows, the people who couldn’t care less that the Stromstads were providing for neglected children or that Tim was paralyzed and dependent on his ATV quad for his “legs,” broke in again while the family was away. They stole his ATV, computers, and daughter’s jug of savings, among other things, to the tune of $10,000 worth.

People get burglarized all the time and missionaries are no exception, in fact, they are often the target. If anyone has a “right” to complain to God about how unfair it is to have this happen when all they are trying to do is serve Him, they would.

But they don’t.  Entitlement isn’t a word in their life vocabulary. Although at times hurt, discouraged, and confounded, they don’t blame God, government, or parents for failing them. They are who Dr. Henry Cloud calls the mature people. “They meet the demands of life” as opposed to the immature who “ask that life meet their demands.”

Recently I received a Christmas letter from Tim and Dena. It was full of news of children and blessings—daughter Maria’s long-awaited citizenship, the boys’ well-being at college, family stuff. No mention of trials or difficulties or sacrifice.

That stopped me. Reminded me that these uncomplaining workers are the ones who really need others to come alongside.To help shoulder the task assigned.

Too easily I fall into the “when I’m not near the one I love, I love the one I’m near,” mentality, or I forget about the ones who are quietly working without complaint. 

 But today, I remember and salute these generous people and make mention of them to you for prayer, or support, or a visit….

In Tim’s words:

Sometimes I feel like Nehemiah who had an urgent need to build a wall. He had a good bunch of guys who worked with a trowel in one hand (cooperation) and a sword in the other (protection and unity.) Our wall is a major project for us, too. We need your prayers, for finalizing the plans and for the financial resources to complete it. If the Lord leads, we would welcome generous contributions designated to Costa Rica Security

http://www.homesoflife.org/files/93/October%202012%20Snail%20Mail.pdf

My prayer today is for someone in another country, far from friends and family. I ask the Lord to encourage with a surprise visit from someone bearing good news, a gift of God's love and awareness. You are not forgotten. 

Photo credit: Kozzi  http://www.kozzi.com/stock-photo-24746779-modern-stone-brick-wall.html?tag=27336&tags=27336,225,157#