hearingnseeing
Hearing and seeing God in everyday lifeArchive for devotional
Witness of Omission
If you read last time, you know I am teaching in the preschool Sunday school class. Last week we learned about David and Goliath — inspired by finding a parachute in the teacher prep room. The kids have wanted to play with the parachute since we found it but I just couldn’t find a way to work it in until last week. We put foam balls in the middle and if you got hit you were “goliathed.” We played the various elementary games too with such a fun tool! It turns out the foam balls I had bought on a Christmas sale were Rudolph noses (or clown noses) — and if you can imagine, Sunday school class was a little, er, active. This morning, 5 days later, is the first day I am walking normally again — my poor underworked muscles!!! No parachute this Sunday.
I am learning from these little ones, though, particularly in our games and crafts together. Some children have to have all the rules spelled out before participating and even then have to contemplate their every move — like the little guy who took about a full minute to pick his Red Rover to come over — and the same with Duck Duck Goose, going around and around and around. Some want to copy the craft exactly and wouldn’t think to “color outside the lines.” And then, of course, there are others who think everything is okay until specifically ruled out — which often makes for progressive rule making and changing . . . it is a challenge to stay a step ahead of them all!
I gamed and crafted with my own children but don’t remember so much “re-directing” that needed to take place. This was not, I believe, because of some behavior of my kids, but because along the way they figured out how to behave in this family. And Sunday school class is bringing together 8-12 different family’s ways every Sunday and trying to make them coexist in relatively one way. No big revelation here, just what is.
Last night I talked with a friend about her Christian witness at her place of work — or her perceived lack thereof. She said her coworkers knew her as a “Jesus Girl” and that she attends church, but beyond that, her witness was not happening because of the nature of her employment. Surely many of us are not able to speak of Jesus in much of our day. She called it her “witness of omission,” particularly omitting snappy words and tempers! but not talking about God things either.
Maybe there is more to this “witness of omission” thing, though — like a witness of no intention, for good or for ill. It is that which we just do and live, not unlike these children in my class, having acquired such living along the way. It is perhaps the essence of who we are and the outflow of our hearts and habits — and our responses to those doing the very same thing. We witness like this all the time, with or without words.
Monitoring our intentions and omissions, our behavior and witness is probably no easier than managing a room full of 4- and 5-year-olds . . . but maybe no harder either, just, again, progressive.
Well, I just liked that, the “witness of omission,” hadn’t heard it said quite like that before, and wanted to put that thought out there today for someone else to say, Hmmm. Made me take a look at my own heart and habits . . . and think about how God wants me to live . . .
Easier to Plan than Thank
It is my pleasure to be teaching the preschool Sunday School class these days. I remember back from my substitute teaching days half the high school class that walked out on me after discussing that being in school after age 16 was a choice and not an obligation. Rookie move. I remember the fourth graders trying to trick me by speaking Spanish, which I knew too much of. One time I had kindergartners and all they wanted to do was wipe their noses then hold my hand (shudder). But over the summer I was asked to help in the VBS with preschoolers. At one point, I had 17 little ones all listening to a story quietly. While I strongly forgo saying I have a “gift,” I will say at least I had their attention!
This Sunday I am bringing in a pumpkin and we are dissecting it and then gluing together paper pumpkins with “filling” (yarn and pumpkin seeds) as a Thanksgiving lesson. I like the International Children’s Bible’s take on the end of Psalm 63, which will be the Scripture to guide our lesson:
You take care of the land and water it.
You make it very fertile.
The rivers of God are full of water.
Grain grows because you make it grow.
10 You cause rain to fall on the plowed fields.
You soak them with water.
You soften the ground with rain.
And then you bless it.
11 You give the year a good harvest.
You load the wagons with many crops.
12 The desert is covered with grass.
The hills are covered with happiness.
13 The pastures are full of sheep.
The valleys are covered with grain.
Everything shouts and sings for joy.
Yesterday I did not sing and shout for joy. Actually, I think I know why so many Psalms have the dichotomy of moods all wrapped up on one psalm. It is like movie Inside Out — where the more mature emotions are complex, filled with joy, sadness, anger, anxiety, whatever – all in one memory or moment. I thought to myself, No wonder people chose to be busy this time of year — it keeps the haunts at bay. Quiet moments often unsettle the dust and bring tears to the eyes. And so it was for me yesterday. I found it easier to plan for Thanksgiving than be thankful for it.
Then I sat at my desk with Bible, pencil and journal, a favorite place and time in my house, and the sun shone on me at that moment. Quint, right? But true. These past days have been a bit more winter than fall and full of clouds and wind — except that moment yesterday morning when the sun broke through and joined me, gently dispelling the shadows in my soul. Yep, I was heart and mind thankful then, and softened, and blessed (verse 10).
Lord, May you bless the land, provide rain and make things grow; May my heart be likewise fertile soil; and May I thank and serve You always as Lord of the Harvest.
Happy Thanksgiving, people, the National Day of Thanks to God!
Sand and Seashells
Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I have only posted 4 times this whole year in a blog nearly 5 years old. I have heard and seen God many more times than that, right? And honestly, every now and then something would happen and I would think, Oh, yeah, that would be something fun to write about it! But I didn’t, and I haven’t. This blog has always been just an extension of my heart, and truly I have battled much this year with the hardening of it. I had panic attacks this year landing me in the ER and long-lasting anxiety following. A son graduated and went to the Service. A friend died unexpectedly and grief and mourning overwhelmed me once again, this on top of the other regular haunts.
But it is fall now and my favorite time of year. The colors have peacefully changed, no early harsh freeze, no strong wind rushing leaves away. And I saw a guy with a metal detector yesterday. While that may seem like a “Squirrel!” sort of comment in this post (if you’ve seen that movie), it was truly just an, Ah, Lord, there you are at it again! and I was compelled to pick up the pen, er, keyboard, once again after a 4-month hiatus.
A friend gave me a book called Devotions for the Beach by Miriam Drennan after I returned from a visit to San Diego. Within a few hours of our landing at the airport there, we had gone to the beach. Oh how I will never forget my girl rushing to waves before I had even donned on my suit shouting, “Save the shells!! We have to save the shells from those mean waves! Save the shells!” Truly, we found more sand dollars than shells, but it was her determination to any hostage upturned by the outgoing tide. I have since said that if I come up missing some day to look for me there. Who knew the Pacific was so cold and salty??! says the naïve in-lander…
Yet the waves of this year have pulled me under often and I have struggled. Again I will say, Thank you, Lord, for Your faithfulness! I read a devotion out of that book yesterday about beachcombers with their metal detectors seeking treasure in the sand, whether old coin or broken toy. The author’s point is not missed on me; “Seeking God and His truths can be a balm to a scorched soul, bring peace to a troubled heart, and offer joy to a frazzled spirit.” (pg 13).
I read that in the morning and went to work. Later, on the way to pick my girl from school activities, guess what I see in the middle of the pee-wee football field, days after cleats and dogs hundreds of people — it is a man with a metal detector.
And that is just like God.
I just had to write about that. Isaiah says to seek God while he may be found — I am so thankful for God’s I Am Here! yesterday. Thank You, Lord!
Isaiah 55 — that will be my afternoon sit-in-the-fall-sun reading today and I will think of sand and seashells. How about you?
Into Dark Waters
We have a new old favorite place. It is a short walk away and is open again to passers-by. A few years back, one of the land owners had roped it off and chased us off with colorful threats, showering us with gravel as she peeled out in her old beat-up truck. So we stayed away. Since her departure, the ropes have come down and we again have enjoyed nearly daily visits to The Pond. A fellow local has brought her 11 full-grown ducks to live in this new habitat — as opposed to a kiddie pool in her yard within the city limits. I am still chuckling over the vision of her bringing these ducks to the pond in her car . . . I can only imagine! We bought pellets for the koi and catfish and the ominous ghost-like schools of minnows. Yesterday we saw the toads and their long lines of eggs. I even took my camera, pencil and paper down there the other night and just took in the beauty!
Now the boys have rediscovered the pond as well. I had taken a gaggle of girls down there with me yesterday to check it out, maybe wade a bit, see the ducks, feed the fish. You should probably know that it is a man-made pond fully lined with concrete (and presumable lots of slimy moss underneath) — actually, I don’t know if it is cement to the bottom or not — and there is a pump and a well. It is not drained over the winter but the level of water significantly decreases. I may have mentioned this pond before — and the original 3 ducks I visited there all winter long on my walkabouts. It is pretty small, easy to swim across in all directions of its oval.
But back to the boys — the girls were doing their girl thing — toes in the water, daring each other to touch the toads, trying to get the ducks to come near — when we heard the boys long we saw them. I kind of enjoy watching 13- and 14-year-old boys — clinging to their boyhood while looking curiously at manhood — unabashed in their loudness and antics in front of any aged girl! They came over the hill, doffed cloths in full stride, and headed straight for the raft. They pushed it off and headed to the deep water, dove, flipped and fell in – all within minutes of our first hearing them. The girls and ducks matched their noise level and made this adults just a little jealous of their freedom of flight! Yes, I did yearn to get in!!!
But the water is dark! The fish nibble at your toes. The walls are a one-slip-of-the-foot-and-you-are-fully-in type. So I just sat sunning and not supervising at all — until the girls wanted a boat ride. Then they wanted to jump in just like the boys. It was a quick No for all the girls not in my family. But for my daughter, I hesitated. The boys had been in and out of the raft many times by now. It was at least 13 feet deep where they were at — but still, the idea of jumping into dark waters causes my heart to skip a beat — what if ___ and there are many words to fill in that blank.
Her brother’s voice echoed in my head at the moment — “C’mon, Mom, let her go!” It was the voice of the brother that always thought she was too coddled and got away with everything. Whether his voice was, Let’s see if she has any guts! or, This will be good for a laugh! — I am not sure. But I heard his voice as clear as day in his absence.
She can swim well. I felt it was safe enough. I was close by to help if needed. I could tell she wanted to, but was also afraid to; and growing up with only brothers, she was determined to do what the other, but older, boys were doing. I finally consented and said Feet First Only! — and so both happened. She did show plenty of guts, but her little head bobbed up quicker than quick and she skittered back to the boat before the fish could find her tasty; and then the laugh ensued, just like her brother thought it would (yes, I laughed too!). She couldn’t get back into the boat very easily, and all in all, once was enough for her that day. She gave me a play-by-play of it all the way home, pleased with herself she was!
I think I will come back to this moment with her again in her life as she ponders another jump into dark waters, that place where you are pretty sure is safe to go but whose wait on courage is causing the pause.
I write this to you today not as some spiritual lesson, not a Go be courageous! bit. This is just something ordinary that happened, maybe even hardly worth writing about. In my Bible reading today, though, I was reminded that if God has given you some sort of blessing, it is for His glory and purpose — not our pleasure alone — for His gifts are to be shared. Yesterday was a great blessing; Thank You, Lord!! I write today that you might be aware of your own blessing, that God may swell in your heart as well, that you may be a conduit of God’s goodness to others. I will try to do the same.
Psalm 67: May the Lord be merciful and bless us. May He smile with favor on us. May Your ways be known through the earth, Your saving power among people everywhere. May the nations praise you, O God. Yes, may all the nations praise you. Let the whole world sing for joy because You govern the nations with justice and guide the people of the whole world. May the nations praise You, O God, Yes, may all the nations praise You. Then the earth will yield its harvests and God, our God, will richly bless us. Yes, God will bless us, and people all over the world will fear Him.
Noah’s Waters
Where are your thoughts lately? Among Noah’s Waters today, I remembered that I am part of something bigger than myself. Is not the murky water in the canal I sat next to this morning the same water that flooded the earth? Recycled a few thousand times, sure; but in essence, the same? God said he wouldn’t flood the earth again — but how quick to think that it is we who are controlling the ebb and flow. I get stuck in my thinking often and appreciate how God reels me back in — His Word, His Creation, His Believers. After my time in Corinthians today, my thoughts are Heavenward, a much needed perspective. How about you?
I Corinthians 15:32 If I (Paul) fought wild beasts in Ephesus for merely human reasons, what have I gained?
A Walk Under Orion’s Belt
I walked under Orion’s belt last night. You know, that big body-looking constellation that rises with evening this time of year — well, at least here in the flatlands. I was walking to the parent baseball meeting, about a third of a mile away, in the dark — and when I looked up, boom, Orion was my full view, hanging nearly over me. To the east, just rising, was the steady sheen of a bright celestial body — which after a hasty search later, determined to be Jupiter to my surprise. I love a refreshing night walk!
Coming home an hour later, the Big Dipper on my right hung rather upside down, pouring any contents fully out. Cassiopeia to my left, a W in the sky, just sat beautiful as always. And leading me home, dead center, sitting alone amidst a backdrop of black night, was the North Star. While moonless, there were enough small-town lights to dim the night brightness, shading many of its wonders, yet dark enough to show me some of her beloved.
It made me think, though, of that which seems to stay the same, but is not; and that which is changeless, which I forget. The North Star is not due north; Jupiter is not in a fixed place; the constellations, while relatively the same for thousands of years, exist in a space that is not stagnant but continually pushing forth to somewhere, whose age is light-years away and beyond my comprehension.
God alone is changeless in a world which He set to motion. Walking home last night, I was so thankful for that. I can hardly take another change in my life and work to that end at times, unfortunate for my health. But the promises God gave Joshua He gives to me — He will never leave me. The promises He gave to Solomon He gives to me — He will direct my paths. The promises He gave Paul He gives to me — Nothing can separate me from God’s love. And all the others. I am easily duped to hold onto something that appears to not change, something in my control, which is really nothing more than a false-security in this fallen world.
But as I looked toward the heavens last night, I was reminded lovingly that only God is changeless, His Word, His Being — Thank You, Lord!
James 1:17 Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like the shifting shadows.
The Best Valentine Ever
I read a love story last night. It was quite different from the smut novels I read in college or even the “Christian” romance of my high school years (interspersed between reads of Frank Peretti and Stephen King). Last night’s story left me hopeful and encouraged! The servant so faithful and God-fearing, the maiden seemingly raised for the moment, willing to follow God right into a man’s arms. It was a story of praise and thanks and left me praising and thanking as well — just as a good story should! — and is layered with meaning for the one lingers. Of course after reading it to my young daughter, hoping she will be like the maiden some day, well, she just thought the nose ring was cool. I suppose give it some time, eh?
It’s in there for you to read too — Genesis 24. God’s Word, the best Valentine ever.
‘Tis the Season
The all school Christmas program — remember? Girls in frilly dresses and boys in ties (some of them), cranky parents and crying babies. You see it all at that program too — the parents filming every fa-la-la to the ones who are covering up their dinner drinks while talking too loudly throughout the whole thing. In the end, it’s just for the kids, right? But out of the mouths of babes…
This year’s program was something about a pirate’s Christmas, the pirates meeting “white beard” (as opposed to blue beard, black beard, yellow beard, etc.). They come in contact with the elves and learn that giving is what you do at Christmastime. In the end, the pirates want to give the elves something back for the gifts from Santa, so some of them take off their eye patches and present them to the elves. At that point, after giving away his eye patch, one pirate says something like, “Wow, I can see two times as good now!” and the audience laughs. Kudos to the writer of this unknown program, whoever you are!
The message of the pirate holds for this for me: While I, too, can see clearly out of two eyes, this time of year my vision is clouded by the hustle and bustle, the buying and baking, going and worrying and, particularly for me, criticizing myself and others. It is hard to be jolly while ’tis the season. But if I can just take that dark patch off, with the Lord’s grace, wow, I know I can see twice the better.
Yep, easier said then done. Always is. But worth it, I think. Argh!
James 1:22 (NIV) Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.
Where Thanks is Absent
Did you watch Little House on the Prairie? Did you read the books? Do you remember in The Long Winter how the girls had to stay under the covers all day just to stay warm (alive) in that harsh winter? I was very thankful for my goose down and chenille this morning — and equally thankful for the thermostat in my control.
As tomorrow is Thanksgiving, I easily go down the litany of things I am thankful for – health, home, family, friends, work — all the big ones. I have read the books, (tried to) keep the thanks journal, heard the sermons. I understand that lack of gratitude is in cahoots with entitlement. I also have a pretty good grasp on how little, it any I “deserve,” from blessing to salvation. So I should be thankful. Scripture in I Thessalonians tells me to give thanks in all circumstances. I get it. But I am not.
I cannot keep secrets from God; He knows. How many times have I said those words over the years? How much comfort they have given me when I could find no other words! But truth is, He knows also those areas where thanks is absent, surrounded in the assumption that I should have had it differently. I have sat, and a little uncomfortably, on this truth since I realized Thanksgiving was nearly here; but it was the first thing I said to myself, that which I was not thankful for, long before that which I was.
Again and again, though, since God is the faithful one, He shows me this and a way to stay malleable. I am, have been, like the inconsolable child. I did not get my way. But I have not seen a child remain that way indefinitely under the love of a parent. Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3-4 NIV) Kids learn to trust their loving parents and rest in that, not needing to understand. They have a humble childlike faith — and to those Jesus commends.
“It can’t beat us!” Pa said.
“Can’t it, Pa?” Laura asked stupidly.
“No,” said Pa. “It’s got to quit sometime and we don’t. It can’t lick us. We won’t give up.”
Then Laura felt a warmth inside her. It was very small but it was strong. It was steady, like a tiny light in the dark, and it burned very low but no winds could make it flicker because it would not give up.”
― Laura Ingalls Wilder, The Long Winter
Thank you, Jesus, for your light in the dark parts of my soul, where you take a simple faith and grow it into full trust in You. Amen!
So Be It
The bully blue jay is back at my feeder — yet another example of God’s creation of remarkable beauty until the mouth opens. But if it weren’t for him and his annoying screech to all his friends, the other birds might not have found my feeders for a long time. I havn’t fed the birds out my home office window for well over a year and a half. But the bully brought the attention back, as they so often do. The doves came next — reminding me of my very first post on hearingnseeing nearly 4 years ago — such gentle and cautious creatures. The sparrows also have returned but often flee in the time it takes me to turn my head and look at them. And of course the squirrels are still trying to find a way to the seeds — and to my amusement, have not succeeded.
So while the network is down at the moment for the real on-line work of my day, I am left with a few minutes to ponder what I have seen and heard from the Lord recently. Hearingnseeing has always meant to be about day-to-day life and seeing God in it. Today it is jays and doves and sparrows — just the normal. I have seen eagles and pelicans to take the breath away, cormorants to behold, lots of cranes, a western tanager, orioles on my window sill. But not today. I have been drowned out by the sound of hundreds of blackbirds and watched the collective movement of a mass of cowbirds move as one; yet it is only the usual that brings me company now.
We desperately seek God in the storm and praise heartily for his creation or blessings — but in between are ordinary days, the living out the discipline of the faith with neither fire nor thrill. This, I think, is the easiest time to “forget” about God and just go about business as usual, being lulled to lax.
So if this is just another blue jay, dove, and sparrow day, so be it — or in other words, Amen. Did you know that is what Amen means — so be it? Which just begs to have many words and thoughts of prayer placed before it, don’t you think? What a great way to spend an ordinary day.
Lord, these words are plain, simple. You can make beauty of ashes. It just makes me wonder what You can do with ordinary? Please use me and others today to find out. Amen.
hearingnseeing 