A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

For the last 43 years I’ve been married to an accountant.  Now I know I don’t speak for ALL accountants when I describe them as detail oriented, organized, and very careful with and about money, but those words describe my husband Jim to a T.  I love it that he’s that way because I am not.

I’ve often joked that I married him because I needed someone to be the numbers person in my life.  He’s the bill paying, tax filing, expenses tracking, budget managing member of our family. If left to me, our check book would never balance, we might be behind in our taxes, and I’d never know how much money is left at the end of a month.

In this country we have a saying, “opposites attract”.  Jim and I have always said that the saying does not apply to us.  We have even taken personality tests at various times and have been amazed at how alike we are! 

 

We’re both introverts.  Being with people expends our energy necessitating some battery recharging with lots of alone time.  We’re quiet with people we don’t know and tend to avoid situations like that.  We both enjoy quiet pursuits like reading, and taking walks.  We can spend lots of time in the library or a book store just browsing. When we travel we love to visit museums and have dinner.  Having similar personalities and pursuits has enabled us to get along really well for all these years.

But there are some ways in which we see things differently.  I tend to be the one more likely to rock Jim’s world with some crazy idea! 

Early on in our marriage I’d seen a TV plea about some starving babies in a third world country and convinced him we needed to sell my jewelry and his coin collection.  If he’d known what would follow over the next 40 something years, he might have thought, “I’d better run NOW!”

There were the many times when I said, “Remember the money we loaned so and so? 

He’s an accountant.  He never forgets stuff like that! I could almost SEE his heart sink, and HEAR what he was thinking:  “Oh, no!  What now?”

 “Why don’t we forgive his debt?” I went on to say.

If I could read his mind, I know exactly what he would have thought: “WHAT?????????  Are you crazy?????????”

He may have thought I was crazy, but he never said no.  Many of our family members have been grateful for Jim's willing generosity.

Then there was the time when I came home and said, “I think the Lord wants me to go on this mission trip to New Orleans to build houses, with teens.”  I was in my 60s, had never been on a mission's trip, never built a thing in my life and had never worked with teens.  If he thought I was crazy, he never said so, and he gave me his blessing and sent me off.

Then last year I said, “I think the Lord wants me to donate my kidney.”  Jim expressed concern for my own health, but not once did he try to encourage me to think again. He was fully on board and supportive.

There was only one time I can think of, and we all laughed about it this morning, when Jim, using NO words, just facial expressions, said a LOT about what I was proposing – and what his face said was, “Okay, now you’ve gone too far!  You ARE crazy and we will NOT do this!"

I’d gone outside to do something and noticed a car at the end of our street with a man sitting inside.  Concerned, I went over to the car to look.  Inside was a very drunk man, fighting nausea, and trying not to be sick.  He opened his door and could barely stand.  In speaking with him I discovered that he had no idea how he got there.  The last he knew he was many miles to the north in New York State.  Scary to think that he had been driving in that state!  He was obviously in no condition to drive home, so I did the only thing I could think of: 

Jim was on his way over when he heard me say to the man, “Well, you can’t drive home.  You need to sleep it off.  Why don’t you come to my house just down the street where you can sleep (and possibly be sick all over).  Then, when you sober up you can go home.”

Oh, my, Jim’s face said a thousand words!  Needless to say, we did NOT take the stranger home.  A neighbor called police and I’m guessing that man had a lovely day and evening sleeping it off in a holding cell in the local lock up.

Jim and I are a lot alike, but thankfully, in the areas where we aren’t, the Lord has put us together so that we perfectly complement one another. 

Jim keeps our financial systems running smoothly, while I help him with his generosity.  I keep life jumping, while Jim keeps me from doing insane things and lives some pretty cool adventures through me.  We are more alike than unalike and we are a match made in heaven!

JESUS STOPPED

Some time ago I was teaching my middle school Sunday school class from the gospel of Mark, chapter 10, verses 46-52.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with the passage, the setting is the entrance to the city of Jericho.  Jesus and his disciples, surrounded by a big crowd, are passing out of the city.  Sitting outside the gate is the blind beggar Bartimaeus.  When he hears that Jesus is passing, he begins shouting, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me”. 



As it might be if it were happening today, people in the crowd, who were finding it difficult to hear, and who possibly didn’t want Jesus to be distracted from THEM, turned to Bartimaeus and told him to be quiet.  But Bartimaeus would not give up!  He just turned up his volume and kept shouting.



Okay, here’s the part I LOVE the MOST.  The very next words in verse 49 say, “Jesus STOPPED and said, ‘Call him’”.



Did you catch those two magnificent, jaw dropping words, JESUS STOPPED!  Back to this in a minute!

                                                                                                                                           

Oh, everyone noticed Bartimaeus too, but to most he was just background noise.  A fly buzzing in their ears.  The beat of someone’s boom box in the background.   Noisy voices on a crowded beach when you’re trying to take a nap.  Annoying, but insignificant.

Be quiet, blind man!  I’m trying to get the attention of Jesus!

They told him to stop bothering Jesus, but he wouldn’t. 



Jesus stopped.  What did Jesus hear that they didn’t?



Jesus heard the words that must have been sweet music to His ears.

“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”

With the sound of a crowd of voices all around Him, Jesus zeroed in on the voice of faith, and stopped. 



And He called to Bartimaeus!  We don’t even have to imagine Bartimaeus’s reaction because it’s recorded for us.  “Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.”



Imagine yourself called to win the grand prize.  Yeah, Bartimaeus was THAT excited!



“What do you want me to do for you?”, Jesus asked.



And Bartimaeus said, “I want to see.” 



And so Jesus healed him, but not before He acknowledged his faith.  “Go, Bartemaeus, your faith has healed you.”



We’re left to imagine the scene.  My imagination gives me goose bumps, thrills my soul, blesses my heart!  Jesus saw and heard what everyone else missed – and Bartemaeus’ faith was rewarded.



Do you know what?  Bartimaeus may have been physically blind but he already saw what most people missed when it came to Jesus.  He SAW who Jesus was with spiritual eyes. 



He knew the prophecy given to David (2 Samuel 7) that a descendant of his would reign on his throne FOREVER.  He knew this prophecy referred to the coming Messiah.  And he made the leap, he put two and two together – Jesus was the the Son of David!   Jesus was the Messiah!  Jesus blessed him by restoring his physical sight and Bartimaeus responded by following Jesus.



There are so many times in the Bible where Jesus stopped and saw with His eyes of love and compassion what others often missed.

·        Jesus saw the widow of Nain slowly making her way through town to bury her only son and He stopped and gave him back to her. 

·        Jesus saw the man possessed by a legion of demons, avoided by everyone for miles around, and He stopped and set him free.

·     Jesus felt the touch of the woman with the issue of blood, and He turned around to find her, saying, "Who touched me?"

·        Jesus saw Zaccheus up in a tree.  He stopped, turned around, invited himself into Zaccheus’s home, and brought him salvation that very day.

·        Jesus saw the woman caught in adultery and, instead of condemning her like everyone else, He stopped, and told her to go and sin no more.

Do you get it?  Jesus SEES and when He does, He STOPS and He enters into lives with His offer of salvation, His words of forgiveness, and His acts of compassionate love.



Maybe you are sitting by the side of the road

·        Mourning over the death of a loved one

·        Grieving over your sin

·        Steeped in guilt

·        Possessed by things

·        In need of salvation

·        Buried by bills

·        Bereft of friends

·        Aching from illness

·        Lost and alone

·        In need of wisdom

·        Confused

To others you may be background noise, but not to Jesus.



Jesus SEES you, He STOPS and He says, “What do you want me to do for you?”  And then He enters into your situation.



First of all, He wants to save your soul, forgive your sin, give you eternal life, translate you from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of His glorious light.  And then, He wants to minister His compassion, heal your heart, give you wisdom, lift your confusion, ease your grief.



How can you avail yourself of this extravagant grace of Jesus?  You can start by repeating the words of Bartimaeus:  “Jesus, Son of God, Messiah, have mercy on me!”  I promise you, Jesus will stop.

LOVING THE DYING

One of the things that had disturbed me so much when my mom had a stroke back in 2007 was that she seemed, in the span of a day, to go from a vibrant, interesting person worthy of attention, to the anonymity of being simply “the patient” in room 200.  In a way it was easy to understand how this happened, though not at all easy to accept.

In the middle of a medical procedure she had a stroke that left her paralyzed on one side of her body.  That was limiting to be sure, but the worst effect was that it also seriously affected her speech.  For someone like mom, who lived to talk and tell stories, this was a catastrophic injury.  Make no mistake, it never stopped her from talking, but from that moment on, Mom was nearly unable to communicate at all. Over a long time some of us family members could, with great patience, decipher her words. But I was shocked at how her inability to communicate with others demonstrably changed the way they saw her.

One night, not long after Mom was in the rehab center where she lived for a while, I arrived to find her extremely agitated.  I found out why when the man caring for her explained.  He said he had been trying to get her to take a shower, when she got so angry she threw the TV remote at him.  A few minutes of talking with her and patiently trying to unravel the issue, revealed that she was trying to tell him that she never took a shower at night, she always took one in the morning and would prefer that.  I could understand how it happened.  He was busy and he was a stranger. Maybe he didn’t give her the time and attention she needed to make her need clear.  And his inability to understand made Mom frustrated and increasingly angry. Hence, the throwing of the remote, which would ordinarily have been very out of character for Mom.

 I longed for that young man and all those who cared for Mom to know her in the way I’d known her.  I was so proud of her.  Having begun her life with the disadvantage of losing both her parents when she was young, and then having to drop out of school in the 7^th grade to support her grandmother and younger sister, she managed to rise to the level of vice president in the bank where she’d worked.  She got her GED at the age of 69.  And she was a woman of great compassion, as well as the funniest person and best story teller I knew.  I wished they could have known THAT person. 

If they’d known her they would have been endlessly amused by her humor, even after her stroke.  Like the time a nurse, having already asked a number of questions about Mom’s history in order to complete a form, asked her what language she spoke (as if she couldn’t already have figured that out).  Mom’s answer:  “Chinese.”

Or the time her false teeth had somehow slipped out of her mouth and her doctor caught them before they fell on the floor.  Mom’s comment:  “You didn’t happen to see the salami sandwich I was eating down there with my teeth, did you?” Thankfully, for those of us who loved her and really wanted to know what she said, we managed to translate those gems and pass them on.  Oh, what those caretakers missed!

It made me sad to watch people do FOR her, but never really know her. So back in the spring of 2013, when I saw a flyer at my church advertising a training class for hospice volunteers, I eagerly signed up!  I’d had experience with hospice and it changed the way I viewed death and dying.

Just two days before Mom died she entered a hospice home in Fort Myers, Florida. I was so impressed.  Here, because they were free from the enormity of having to care so much for Mom’s body (hospice’s role was to simply make her comfortable), they were able to concentrate on making her last days pain free and restful.  They were unfailingly kind and caring.  They cared about Mom’s comfort, but they also treated her with the dignity deserving the still living.  They made an effort to listen to her and know her.  I fell in love with hospice for treating my mom with the same kind of tender loving care with which I would care for her.

So when I heard about this hospice training, I knew becoming a hospice volunteer was something I wanted to do, and as with so many things I’ve undertaken, I knew that the Lord had prepared me for this very thing with my own mom and was opening up this door of opportunity to me.

One of the hospice patients I’ve been visiting for a while now has Alzheimers.  Much of the time he seems completely out of it.  He sometimes makes eye contact, and he does speak, but when he does, what he says makes no sense to me, even though it seems to make perfect sense to him.  Occasionally, amazingly, he’ll say something that demonstrates that he knows exactly what he’s saying and he says it clearly.  Such as the day when he looked me right in the eyes and said, “You’re young.  Take care of yourself.”  I knew what he meant.  He meant, “You’re young. Don’t you have anything better to do than come to see me?”

In the time since I began visiting, I have come to truly love and care about this man.  And when he has those lucid moments, I know he feels the same about me.  He may think I have better things to do, but I believe he’s glad I come to see him.  We have formed a bond in these months of visits.  The “connection” amazes me because so little real communication happens when we’re together.

If I had met this man in the prime of his life we may have had nothing whatsoever in common.  We may have traveled in different kinds of social circles, enjoyed different books, disagreed on politics.  Those things no longer matter to him, but it doesn’t stop me from asking.  Most of what I know about him before this terrible mind sucking disease took hold, I find out from his wife.   

This week, as I was helping him with his meal, he looked into my eyes and stroked my face.  Sensing the affection I thought he was communicating, I replied, “I feel the same way about you.”   Watching this exchange, his wife commented about my patience, surprised that I talk to him as if he understands (which he does!).  She attributed my patience to having helped raise my granddaughter.  I said something in response, although it was insignificant and not what I wanted to say at all, but I’ve had time to think about it since and if I get a chance I’ll tell her next time.

I realize that my reason for doing this has everything to do with the way I view life.  Life is a gift from God, the Creator of all living things. The Bible tells us in Genesis that when God created man, He created him in His own image. He created man to know and love Him.  Life is precious to God. We were meant to know and enjoy Him forever.  Each person who lives and breathes has an opportunity to respond to the God who loves them and died to rescue them from sin and its curse.  One day Jesus will return and restore all things to the way God intended, but until then sickness and death are part of the package of living in this natural world, but they don't keep us from knowing God in the person of His Son Jesus.

My mom, ravaged by stroke, was loved by God.  He made her to be the vibrant person she was and I have no doubt her stroke and what it took from her grieved Him as much as it grieved me.  The man I visit was also created in God’s image, but the ravages of sin has taken its toll on him as well. Yet, he is still abundantly loved by His Creator – even if many others no longer see him as someone still among the living.

I volunteer with hospice because God values the likes of Mom and this man with Alzheimers.  He made them in His image, and He loves them. He has given me His heart and His eyes with which to see them.  And because Jesus said, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” 

I confess I don’t serve in this way because I’m hoping that when my turn comes I’ll be treated with the dignity and respect I hope I give them (although it would be nice).  But I do serve in this way because it’s the kind of care my mom had, the kind of care of which everyone is deserving – even if they can no longer communicate, even if it’s impossible now to truly know them.

Dying is the final, natural act of living. The process of dying should not diminish in any way the value of the one living out his or her last days.  One of the things that strikes me so much when I read about Jesus in the Bible is that He SAW with compassion what others only saw in passing. When He saw beggars and blind men and lepers and grieving mothers and prostitutes who longed for forgiveness – He stopped and really SAW them.  His seeing led to action.  I simply want to SEE what Jesus sees, stop where Jesus would stop, and then do something to extend His compassion, to communicate value to the ones He brings across my path. And if I'm able, to tell them how much Jesus loves them.

 When someone’s last days draw near we need to treat them, not as the “almost dead”, but as the “still living”.  We need to use those days we’re given to celebrate the person each one has been and STILL IS and be thankful for the contributions they have made to our world, while lovingly caring for them through the days that remain in a way that affirms their great worth – to God and to us.

 

TIME FOR AN ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT

I’m hoping that after reading two of my last three blogs you are under no illusion that just because I write spiritually focused blogs I’m some sort of super saint.  Nope, I get discouraged just like everyone else.  And I suffer from depression and anxiety too.  Well, I’m about to make another true confession. 

Here in New Jersey we usually have relatively mild winters.  I can remember years when we had 10 snow storms during the winter season, but that's not the norm.  Typically, we have 2-3 snow storms a season, with about 25 inches in total.  With the huge storm we had yesterday our snow total for this winter is more than twice that – and its only mid-February.

We have a snow blower and five people living in our house, so when it snows on a weekend, or badly enough that no one is able to go to work or school,  we can make pretty quick work of it.  Also, because we have a snow blower and some of our neighbors don’t, we usually will work our way around the sidewalks – and sometimes driveways – of the neighbors on our side of the cul de sac.  We did that during last week’s snow and again yesterday.

Before the latest storm left us it dumped another few inches of heavy wet snow this morning.  My daughter and son in law went to their jobs in New York City and our granddaughter was getting ready for school.  That left just Jim and I to clear off our car and shovel out the latest few inches.  It was tough because our snow blower decided to stop working.

So I confess that when I saw neighbors – much younger than Jim and I - whose driveways, walkways and front steps we shoveled on different occasions, seeing us older folks out there shoveling that heavy snow, I was resentful that instead of offering to help us this time around, they avoided eye contact. 

My “do unto others as you would have them do unto you”, and “love your neighbor as yourself” attitude, was blown right away by the chilly February wind.  But thankfully, not for long.  I distinctly “heard” the voice of the Holy Spirit say:

 

 “Uh, Dot, it's time for a serious attitude adjustment!  Why do you help your neighbors?  So that next time around they'll return the favor?"

 

Conviction!!

The Lord continued:

"Remember what you wrote yesterday about how the Lord Jesus is your reward and He's all the reward you need.  Yeah, this would be a good time to remember that”. 

Heard you loud and clear, Lord!  Sorry neighbors.

THE REWARD THAT BEATS ALL OTHERS

In the Old Testament book of Genesis 14, verse 1 through Genesis 15, verse 1, we read of an account in the life of the Jewish patriarch Abraham (who is called Abram at the time).

Abram finds out his nephew Lot and his family, who had been living near the city of Sodom, have been taken captive by an invading alliance of kings.  As soon as he hears, Abram gathers together his own fighting men and goes after them.  Greatly outnumbered, but with God’s help, Abram finds and overcomes them, recovering all the stolen goods, and rescuing Lot along with his possessions and people.

After this amazing defeat, the King of Sodom made him an offer many of us would have had difficulty refusing.  He said: 

“Give me the people and keep the goods for yourself.”

As the legitimate conqueror, Abram had every right to the spoils of war and would not have been thought selfish or undeserving had he chosen to accept the King of Sodom’s offer.  But this was his answer:

“I have raised my hand to the Lord, God Most High, Creator of heaven and earth, and have taken an oath that I will accept nothing belonging to you, not even a thread or the thong of a sandal, so that you will never be able to say, ‘I made Abraham rich’.  I will accept nothing but what my men have eaten and the share that belongs to the men who went with me. . . Let them have their share.”

Which of us would have been able to do that, I wonder?  I’m thinking that might have been a lot of material goods.

I’ve often wondered whether Abram ever had second thoughts?  He was already a very wealthy man, but more than that, he had some amazing promises from the Lord that would last far longer than any earthly wealth.  He was well blessed already.  But still. . did he think twice?  We don’t really know.  But we might get a clue to what was going on in his mind at the time when we read what comes next.

Genesis 15:1

“After this, the word of the Lord came to him in a vision:

‘Do not be afraid, Abram,

I am your shield,

your very great reward.’

Maybe Abram was entertaining this thought, “What if those kings decide to take revenge on me?”  I’m thinking he must have been afraid of that very thing, or why would the Lord have said, ‘Do not be afraid, Abraham’?  What else would have made him afraid?

What a comfort it must have been for Abram to hear these words of the Lord:

‘Do not be afraid, I am your shield’

Do you need a shield?

A shield from those mental arrows that cause discouragement, fear, disappointment?  That say, “God has forgotten you.  You’re on your own now, baby.  Where is God when you need Him?”

Well, never doubt it.  He’s right in front of you, using His body as a shield.  He’s your rear guard.  He surrounds you with His FAVOR as with a shield.  He’s given you His Word, the SWORD of the Spirit with which you can renew your mind with His truth.  You can let go of your fear.

Apparently, it wasn’t only fear of retaliation on the mind of Abram.  Was he also wondering whether following the Lord was worth the material and reputational loss?  That would certainly be the “human” way to think.

Whatever Abraham was thinking, how awesome it must have been for him to hear the next thing the Lord said:

“(I am) your very great reward”

In effect the Lord’s word to Abram was this:  “Those whose hope is in me Abraham, will NOT suffer loss.  They will NOT need to feel ashamed for doing so.  They HAVE their reward.  It’s ME!”

These are the very words of Psalm 25, verse 3 where it says:

“No one whose hope is in You will ever be put to shame.”

In today’s reading from my devotional by Dr. David Jeremiah he says:

“What comes to mind when you think of the word ‘reward’?  Usually it’s a payment of money for finding and returning a lost object. . . . You do something honorable or honest, (as Abram did in rescuing Lot) and you are given money as a reward.

Imagine if you return a lost object and the owner says, ‘Instead of the money, I’ve decided to give you myself as a reward.  You and I are going to be friends forever.’  One can think of all sorts of responses to a reward like that.  But there’s one situation in which that would be the most desirable reward possible – serving Christ in this life and being His friend forever. 

Are you suffering over some earthly loss related to your faith?

Maybe you’ve lost a job over godly moral standards you refuse to compromise. 

Or you’re serving God in missions and making nothing compared to what you could earn in secular work with that degree for which you worked so hard. 

Well, God sees your sacrifice, and if you belong to Jesus, He says to you what He said to Abram:

                                              I AM YOUR VERY GREAT REWARD!                   

Can you think of a greater eternal reward than being the friend of Jesus? I can’t.

When we have Him, what other reward can compare?

The most important consideration though is this:  do you have Him? 

All those other rewards we work so hard for and value so highly – money, position, power, education, influence – one day they will pass away with us, or be passed on to someone else. 

But having Jesus as our reward?  Wow, that one comes with us into eternity, and is enjoyed and valued for, well, eternity! 

If you put all your hope in earthly rewards, you will have pursued a goal that is for this life only.  Putting hope in Jesus gives the promise of an eternity of enjoying Him, the BEST reward there is!

THOSE FEBRUARY BLAHS

It’s February again.  Smack dab in the middle of winter February can launch everyone into the blahs.  Every February I find myself in the same place, under a gloomy gray cloud, literally and figuratively.  February nearly always has this effect on me, yet it seems to somehow sneak up on me, until I realize that I have a case of the blahs again, and remember, oh, yeah, it’s February.

February, with its gloomy skies, mounds of snow, cold, cabin fever, is a recipe for the blahs, but for me, there is so much more about February that accounts for my gray cloud.  I lost both my parents in February. 

My dad died in his sleep twelve years ago now on February 10 after years of battling heart disease.  When we visited him that previous December he had already been told to put his affairs in order, so his death just two months later came as no surprise. However, even when death is expected, it still hurts.  Since my birthday is also in February, I spent the day of my birthday at Dad’s funeral. 

Seven Februarys ago now, on February 21^st, I lost my mom.  What was initially diagnosed as a case of bronchitis, turned out to be a faulty heart valve, but a stroke kept her from having the surgery needed to repair it.  So just five weeks later, she was gone, and the loss was harder.  That year I spent my birthday keeping a hospital vigil.

Since the mid-80s I had been involved in the ministry of Bible Study Fellowship International.  It pretty much defined my life of ministry for nearly 18 years.  When Mom got sick I resigned so that I could stay with her.  I sent the letter of resignation to BSF headquarters on my birthday.

So February is a tough month for me – so many memories – so many losses.  You’d think by now I’d be expecting these February blahs.  Nope, they continue to take me by surprise until I look up and see that little gray cloud.

There was a time when February wasn’t the only time I walked around under a little gray cloud.  A good deal of my life, from as far back as I can remember, I always felt somewhat “low” with the burden of a cloud, the cause of which I never thought to seek.  It was just who I was.

Now that I have the benefit of hindsight, I realize that my cloud was passed on to me through a gene pool.  I think now that one side of my family labored under the cloud of depression.  They tended to be folks whose glasses were always half empty.  Their medication of choice for the lowness of their cloud was alcohol.  One of them committed suicide.  Being low was who they were.  The best they thought to do was cope with it.  I felt it too and assumed it was just normal.

As a Christian, I’d heard others say that the Lord is all we need to cope with things like that.  So I did all the things I thought would help.  I read my Bible, I prayed, I wholeheartedly sought the Lord and tried to live a godly life in the power of the Holy Spirit.  Except for short periods of time when I caught a glimpse of sunshine, the gray cloud just wasn’t budging.  At least once during a serious family crisis, the little gray cloud became full blown depression, robbing me not only of happiness, but of all energy, focus and reasonable thought.

Finally, when a second crisis hit our family, I spoke to my doctor about medication.  For me, it seemed a last resort.  I had tried to up my closeness to the Lord and it was not enough.  I feared lapsing back into a real depression and didn’t want to go there again.  So I began taking an anti-depressant. 

I remember exactly where I was three weeks later.  I was driving home, stopped at a red light, and had a thought.  The thought was, “this must be what it’s like to feel normal”.  I was not euphoric, I was not “high”, I just felt right.  There was no sign of my companion, that little gray cloud.

That was about six years ago now and I continue to take medication.  It was only after taking the meds that I realized what joy was.  Until then I had never experienced joy – the joy of fun, the joy of my family, the joy of ministry, the joy of the Lord, the joy of just plain living.  I was occasionally happy, but never joyful.  Now I know what joy is.

Needless to say, I am not one of those Christians who tries to encourage people who feel the way I did to just trust the Lord to bring healing.  I believe we DO need to trust the Lord to bring healing!  But sometimes His healing comes through medicine.  He is the author of that too. 

So, once again I am experiencing the February blahs, but now I know that once February is over, the blahs will go with it.  They are situational and temporary.  And I can now truly and honestly say, “the joy of the Lord is my strength”. 

FEELING VULNERABLE - IN A GOOD WAY

Along with a number of other women of my church, I’m studying Beth Moore’s series on the New Testament book of James.  It has been my assignment to do the weekly homework and then write a summary of the daily readings as a guide for small group discussions.  If you have ever done any teaching then you know, the discipline and study that goes along with preparation causes the teacher to learn more than the students. And in the case of Bible study, to be challenged as well to apply the learning to life, as an example to those who follow.

Last week we were in chapter one of James.  I’ve read the book before, but the wonderful thing about the Bible is that something “old”, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, is always being made “new” in the heart and mind of the believer.  Proof that God’s Word is LIVING, and ACTIVE, even now.

When I read James, chapter 1, I was struck afresh by two things he said.  The first was this:

James 1:5

“If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all, without finding fault, and it will be given to him.”

I’m frequently amazed, although I shouldn’t be, at the way God’s Word speaks directly to my heart and my situation when my heart is open to listening to His Spirit. 

My husband and I have been talking about moving to Florida when our granddaughter (who currently lives with us, along with our daughter and son in law) finishes high school and is off to college, in just a year and a half. 

A move to Florida makes perfect sense from a financial perspective.  Now that Jim is retired and we are living on his pension and part of our Social Security benefits, a move out of the pricey northeast would save us $10,000 a year in property taxes on our home.

A move to Florida would also mean sunnier skies and the absence of snow, especially appealing after this long, cold and snowy winter.  We are feeling the cold more as we get older, and shoveling out our long and wide driveway, to say nothing of driving on slippery roads or navigating icy sidewalks, would not be missed by either of us!

The truth is though that I’ve been struggling with the idea of a move.  My daughter pointed out to me that all I seem to see when I think of moving to Florida is loss - the loss of my church home and family, my longtime friends, the change of seasons, all that’s familiar and comfortable. 

My vision is also clouded by all the “what ifs”.  What if we go and something happens to Jim and I find myself alone with no support system?  What if I can’t deal with all that heat?  I’ve never made friends easily.  What if I don’t make any good friends? 

It took looking at James 1:5 with fresh eyes to remember.  If I need wisdom – and I certainly do – all I have to do is ask the Lord for it - and then I wait. 

I’ve been talking to the Lord about all this, but not in faith, rather in anxiety and fear, as if He has no idea of what I’ve been thinking.  Suddenly the words of James broke through.  I do need wisdom, but I don’t need it immediately for a move that won’t take place for another year or more.  So it’s time to relax and trust the Lord to give me the wisdom – generously, as James says – and in plenty of time to help us make a decision.

I don’t like making any big changes based solely on what seems reasonable. That is the way the world thinks. I want to know the Lord is in the decision making. I prefer to wait on Him and His affirmation before taking such a big step, and so I’m asking Him to give me confirmation of His will for us, because it’s what I need to move forward.  He’s always done this for me and I fully expect Him to do it again.  But not necessarily YET.  I really needed James’ reminder that God WILL provide His wisdom – generously.

Something else happened this weekend that did two things – drive home another lesson from James – and give me some affirmation that it just might be the right time for a move to Florida.

In chapter 1, verses 9-11 James contrasts the rich and the poor.  The questions Beth Moore focused on for that part of the study dealt with God’s attitude toward the poor and the attitudes we Christians should have toward them.  Not really knowing anyone I would consider poor, I thought about my attitude toward the poor for about 5 seconds, and then forgot about whatever my response should be as a believer in Jesus.  Until Friday night.

On Friday night I had plans with my daughter and her friend and her mom, to go into New York City to an opera.  None of us had ever been to the opera (it was on my bucket list) but I’d always wanted to go.  My birthday is this week, so the opera was an early birthday present from my husband.  Because my daughter works for the Columbia University College of Dentistry, she was already in the city and had her car, so it was decided I’d take a bus and meet her there.

I very, very rarely go into New York City even though we only live about a half hour away in the suburbs of New Jersey.  When I do go, I always go with my husband or my daughter and we usually drive and park in the city.  So going alone, and taking public transportation made me a bit anxious, but it was also a much needed wake up call.

Lots of people take public transit and not all of them are impoverished.  Many live in urban areas where parking is difficult, and public transportation, by bus or train or taxi, is easily available and preferred.  But some who do, do so because they can’t afford things like cars, insurance for them, and the gas it takes to fill them.  They are not necessarily impoverished either, they just don’t have money for those luxury items, or choose not to use what they do have in that way. 

Taking public transportation – buses and subways – helped me see what I’m blind to living out here in the suburbs.  An entire population of people who are NOT like me live out there in the world.  Some are just barely managing the bus fare and become panicky when they think they’ve misplaced a precious dollar that will get them from here to there (I saw that on the bus ride to the city).  Young and old, rich and poor, sick and well, all nationalities and languages can be found on public transportation. It was good to remember that there is a vast, rich, and diverse world out there of which I am often unaware.  I needed to remember to leave my judgmental attitude at home in the burbs, see what God sees, and be compassionate and caring.

That wasn’t all I learned through that trip into the city.  I think the Lord also used it to begin the process of helping me to see that my slowing down time is coming.  I have been fighting growing older for a long time.  I dye my hair, I try not to look too closely at the abundant wrinkles on my face and arms (ick!), I think of myself as a youthful 67.  But for some reason, that trek into the city brought the reality of aging closer to home.  I came away from it feeling vulnerable in many ways.  There was the vulnerability I felt at reaching my current age with very little awareness of people “out there” who are not like me.  I didn’t like the way that made me feel and I suspect the Lord will have some more to say to me about this in the days ahead.  Maybe even some kingdom work to do to put His compassion into action.

Some of the vulnerability came from navigating into the city alone and in an unfamiliar way to an unfamiliar place.  Some of it came from walking many blocks on sidewalks still clogged with remnants of last week’s snow and ice.  Every time I crossed a street through slush and ice I worried that I might fall. 

I had borrowed my daughter’s boots and felt they didn’t give me good traction.  My balance was off, so weaving through the crowds on streets and on the floor of the opera house for the first time made me feel old and disoriented.  It was not a good feeling.

In the end, the feeling of vulnerability just might be phase one of the Lord’s plan to get me ready for a move to a less populated state and to a climate where it never snows. 

I was thinking this weekend that maybe I’d send out a message to my friends telling them about my feelings of vulnerability and asking for some encouragement.  That would certainly be nice, but whether or not anyone else ever gave me encouragement, God does.  Feeling vulnerable is not necessarily a bad thing.  It’s just one of the ways in which the Lord reveals Himself to be Himself – a God who loves the poor and the different, a God who is faithful, Who gives wisdom, Who cares for all of His children – as well as for those who don’t acknowledge Him.  He wants them to know Him too.

Although James’s words, and my experiences this week left me feeling vulnerable, and aware of the aging process – I do thank you Lord for all the ways in which you break into my consciousness, applying your truth and showing your love.  Feeling vulnerable is ALWAYS a good thing when it drives me to You and helps me see things the way you do.