I gazed into the open closet. It smelled like her, clean and sweet. Grandma’s familiar scent threatened to release the ocean of tears I held so bravely back. I dreaded looking through her things, but Grandpa had been so confident, so persistent over the phone that I felt compelled to come.
Wasn’t it too soon for Grandpa to give away her clothes? She’s only been gone a couple of months. And now he expected me to calmly rummage through her things and decide what I wanted. She had been such a tiny woman; I might not find anything that fit. And yet, I did want to have something of hers to remember her by.
Grandma Johnston was everyone’s favorite. She introduced me to Pig Rummy and Bingo, and how to make homemade bread, kneading it “until the dough felt like an earlobe.” She gave me her recipe for baking powder biscuits that melt in your mouth. Topped with butter and homemade strawberry jam, they always send me back to the blue and white kitchen where she reigned.
Grandma taught me how to knit when I was in the fourth grade and beamed when I presented her with my first project - a royal blue apron with red strings and a pocket so small she could only fit two fingers inside. The apron itself was small, even on her tiny frame. It looked like a potholder dangling from her waist. But she wore it every time I came.
Motherhood had been foisted upon her early in life, the oldest of twelve children, because of her mother’s frequent illnesses. Grandma only went to school through the eighth grade. Nevertheless, she was an avid reader and seemed to know a little about everything, especially if one of her children or grandchildren was interested in it.
At her gravesite we all shared stories of how her faith and love had influenced us. The grandchildren, now grown, remembered the hours she spent reading us stories. We liked her "out of the mouth" stories the best. She made us supply the characters. So we would think up the zaniest combinations we could – a dragon, a nurse, a clown, and the leaning tower of Pisa. With them she managed to weave magical, hilarious bedtime stories. We remembered how she tickled us, the twinkle in her eye when she was teasing, and the raspberry kisses we pretended to avoid.
My brother-in-law laughingly remembered how Grandma’s love extended even to her great grandchildren. “She was at our house for her eightieth birthday when I went to Heidi’s room to tell them dinner was ready. I found them both on the floor in the closet…playing dog.”
She loved with such abandon that we thought we were the only recipients and were surprised to discover how many other lives she touched. The memorial service at her and Grandpa's church was packed with people I'd never met before. She had taken meals to countless families, started a young mother's club at church before such things even existed, and had mentored many. My Grandpa also spoke words of love and gratitude for her in the dedication. For years I had seen them living and laughing side by side, but never knew how much he cherished her. And now she was gone.
Grandpa and I went through her clothes item by item. As we did, he reminisced. I jumped when his hand darted into the closet to remove a black velvet jacket.
"Oh, I want to keep this one," he said. "Your Grandma always looked so classy in this. I can’t give that away."
A few minutes later he came across a red bandanna hat and chuckled. "I remember the first time "Boots" (his nickname for her) wore this. We were climbing down a hill to look at a construction job I was working on. When I turned around to see if she was coming, all I could see this red hat bobbing after me." He laughed. "She looked so cute.” It was a faraway look - joy mingled with pain. "I'd better keep it too,” he said, holding the hat to his heart.
We spent the afternoon laughing and remembering. Tears trickled down our cheeks now and then. Afterward, I floated home on a cloud of memories with an armload of clothes, my heart full of love and grief.
That evening I withdrew to my bedroom and tried on Grandma's clothes. I found tissues in almost every pocket, and laughed. All my clothes have tissues in the pockets too. She would have been horrified to know she had left a legacy of “snot rags.”
Grandma had always kept their house spotless. She ironed everything, even their sheets and Grandpa’s v-necked tee-shirts he wore under his coveralls. I’d “helped” her many times as she bustled around dusting, mopping and washing. I remember lugging her wicker basket full of damp clothes to the side yard to hang wash together. I can still hear the click of wooden clothespins and smell the clean scent on the breeze.
Years of hard work had made her hands ugly. At least she thought they were ugly. Grandma especially despised her thumbs. They were short and flat at the nail, the skin toughened by years of loving service. The day she noticed my thumbs she was aghast.
"Oh no!" she said. "You got those awful things!" I looked at them with secret delight. I had Grandma's thumbs.
Her hands didn’t feel rough to me when I held them to walk around the neighborhood. She would call my attention to flowers, bugs, houses - always delighted with the details of life. I planted wisteria in my yard because I remembered the stone house on our walks. Grape-like clusters festooned the porch like the entrance to a secret hideaway. We would stop to catch the fragrance eyes closed, inhaling the rich perfume.
Suddenly I am aware of an image in the mirror. It is me wrapped in Grandma’s cardigan sweater with tissues in the pocket. What a surprise blessing to find a piece of her there! Tears of grief and gladness run freely and melt into her sweater as I finger the soft tissue. God knew the solace I needed and He brought comfort to my grieving heart from out of Grandma's closet.
~ (c) Beth Vice, July 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
I Have a Note from My Mother and Other Lame Excuses: Spiritual Disciplines
Students are famous for giving lame excuses to get out of work. But they are not the only ones. Here are some other questionable alibis for various forms of misbehavior:
• I won't be in today. My fish is sick and I need to take it to the vet.
• I took two Ex-Lax in addition to my Prozac this morning. I can't get off the john, but I feel good about it.
• Dear School: Please ekscuse Brent’s absence on Jan. 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, and also 33.
• Megan could not come to school today. She has very close veins.
• I stayed home from church last week because “I just had this feeling I shouldn't be there.”
• It’s okay to eat broken cookies. The process of breaking causes fat leakage.
• Sorry officer, I was leading in the Indianapolis 500...but I think I took a wrong turn!
• I can't go out with you tonight. There is a Leave it to Beaver marathon on TV.
These are so ridiculous they make us laugh. But what happens when this pattern seeps into our spiritual lives? We say: I love God; He is the Lord of my life; He is my first priority. Yet, when He invites us into activities that will help us grow, we have the gall to raise our hand and ask to be excused. Lame. I’m speaking to myself here as much as anyone. I know I can’t grow unless I practice. And practice means discipline.
In a scene from Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth struggles through a piano piece at the demand of Lady Catherine. During this mortification, Mr. Darcy tries to excuse his rude behavior to her at the Hertfordshire ball, “I certainly have not the talent which some people possess, of conversing easily with those I have never seen before.”
She laughs and replies, “My fingers, do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do…. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault -- because I would not take the trouble of practicing.”
The key then to mastery is not natural ability or inclination, but practice. None of us is naturally Christ like. Some disciplines come more easily than others, but we still have to practice them. Like the piano, we don’t start with a sonata, but by plunking out scales, gradually adding more difficult pieces as we progress. That is when the fun begins.
And yet, like many piano students, we come up with every conceivable excuse for not practicing. Here are the most common:
“I don’t need to go to church to worship God.”
Here’s how one church responded to that:
NO EXCUSE SUNDAY: DEDICATED TO MISSING CHURCH ATTENDEES!
To make it possible for everyone to attend church this Sunday, we are going to have a special "No Excuse Sunday": Cots will be placed in the foyer for those who say, "Sunday is my only day to sleep in." There will be a section with lounge chairs for those who feel our pews are too hard. Eye drops will be available for those who stayed up too late watching TV. We will have steel helmets for those who say, "The roof would cave in if I ever came to church." Blankets will be furnished for those who think the church is too cold, and fans for those who say it is too hot. Scorecards will be available to list the hypocrites present. We will distribute "Stamp Out Stewardship" buttons for those who feel the church is always asking for money. One section will be devoted to trees and grass for those who like to seek God in nature. Doctors and nurses will be in attendance for those who plan to be sick on Sunday. The sanctuary will be decorated with both Christmas poinsettias and Easter lilies for those who have never seen the church without them. We will provide hearing aids for those who can't hear the preacher and cotton wool for those who think he's too loud! Hope to see you there! (from http://madtbone.tripod.com)
It is God’s plan for Christians to be part of a church. Alone we fall prey to discouragement, false beliefs, and selfishness. In church we can learn from others. Sermons and small group discussions sharpen our thinking. And close interaction, including inevitable conflict, forces us to learn that love is an action, not just a theory. When we praise together, learn together, seek God together, we encourage others, and they encourage us.
Another copout I hear often is: “I’m not much of a reader.”
So when did God say, “Read the Bible if you love to read,” or “if you understand it all,” or “if you have time today”? It is shocking how many professing Christians do not read the Bible! Yet God says: read it, meditate on it, hide it in our heart, and tell others.
My daughter was away from home the month before we moved, so I packed her room for her. I came across a card I had given her months earlier…unopened. I was crushed. I could still remember how much time I spent picking out the perfect card and the sentiments I wrote inside. Imagine how God feels when we claim to love Him, yet never open His letter to us. He didn’t pick a pre-printed card off a rack, but inspired numerous authors over hundreds of years to record His live-giving message of love for us.
“I’m barely getting by as it is.”
This is the excuse of the non-giver. Yet, God doesn’t say, “Give when you have extra,” or “tithe if you like your pastor.” He says, “Bring the whole tithe… Test me in this…see if I will not… pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it” (Malachi 3:10). First we give then He pours out blessings – on our finances, meeting others’ needs, or funding ministries that bring people to Christ. God doesn’t ask us to give our wealth to make us poor, but to give from our poverty that He might make us rich in Him.
Next is the world’s lie that even Christians have bought into: “I can’t say no.”
The world says it is impossible to be sexually pure, that there is something wrong with a person who is not sexually active before marriage. But God’s directions haven’t changed.
Contrary to today’s philosophy, it is possible to say no. “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it” (1 Corinthians 10:13).The answer is the same as always – look for the way out and take it.
If we accept God’s escape route in today’s culture we will stand out. Unashamed purity declares there is power for those who walk with Christ.
This next one hits home for me: “I’m going through menopause/pregnancy/mid-life so…”
I am currently going through menopause. There are days when I am cranky and irritable for no reason. My changing hormones are messing with my normal equilibrium, but I haven’t found any loopholes for menopausal madness in the Bible.
Psalm 4:4 says, “In your anger do not sin; when you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent.” In the New Testament, Paul adds, "Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry” (Ephesians 4:26). Try replacing the word “anger” with your current weakness. “In your menopause, pregnancy, mid-life crisis, job loss, parenting teenagers etc. - do not sin.” Our feelings are real, jarring, confusing, but when we pause and ask for His Spirit to act through us, Jesus will enable us to respond in redeeming ways.
Finally, we come to the spiritual discipline that really kicks us in the gut, and the common excuse for not participating is: “I’m not good at fasting.”
So who is? We live in a country where we eat our fill at every meal. We are perplexed by Jesus’ expectation to sacrifice comfort. Yet Jesus said, "When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do” (Matthew 6:16-17, emphasis mine), not “if.”
There are medical conditions that prohibit some people from a complete fast. However, there are many kinds of fasts – a partial fast (giving up dessert, coffee, or one meal a week), a juice or fruit and vegetable only fast, or giving up non-food items like texting, Facebook, or television for a specific period of time. Fasting is saying no to our flesh and yes to God - so we can pray, read His Word, or seek direction.
For me, fasting is one of the hardest disciplines because my mind and body, which are used to getting their own way, want to control my spirit. That is what makes it such a powerful tool against the enemy. When we are willing to sacrifice our desires to fill up on God, we become spiritually stronger.
So many times we fail in spiritual disciplines because we never get started. We figure if we don’t like practicing, we must be exempt. I have to say, as a young music student, I didn’t enjoy practice at first. But the more I did, the more I realized its benefits. Practicing opened doors for me in the music world I never would have imagined. It’s the same way in the spiritual realm.
So what’s holding you back? Do you want to be more like Jesus? Do you want to love God more than yourself and win against evil? Then crumple up that forged note from your mother and get going. Let God show you where to start and how to keep on going even when you want to quit. You will be so glad you did!
Beth Vice, (c) 2010
• I won't be in today. My fish is sick and I need to take it to the vet.
• I took two Ex-Lax in addition to my Prozac this morning. I can't get off the john, but I feel good about it.
• Dear School: Please ekscuse Brent’s absence on Jan. 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, and also 33.
• Megan could not come to school today. She has very close veins.
• I stayed home from church last week because “I just had this feeling I shouldn't be there.”
• It’s okay to eat broken cookies. The process of breaking causes fat leakage.
• Sorry officer, I was leading in the Indianapolis 500...but I think I took a wrong turn!
• I can't go out with you tonight. There is a Leave it to Beaver marathon on TV.
These are so ridiculous they make us laugh. But what happens when this pattern seeps into our spiritual lives? We say: I love God; He is the Lord of my life; He is my first priority. Yet, when He invites us into activities that will help us grow, we have the gall to raise our hand and ask to be excused. Lame. I’m speaking to myself here as much as anyone. I know I can’t grow unless I practice. And practice means discipline.
In a scene from Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth struggles through a piano piece at the demand of Lady Catherine. During this mortification, Mr. Darcy tries to excuse his rude behavior to her at the Hertfordshire ball, “I certainly have not the talent which some people possess, of conversing easily with those I have never seen before.”
She laughs and replies, “My fingers, do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do…. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault -- because I would not take the trouble of practicing.”
The key then to mastery is not natural ability or inclination, but practice. None of us is naturally Christ like. Some disciplines come more easily than others, but we still have to practice them. Like the piano, we don’t start with a sonata, but by plunking out scales, gradually adding more difficult pieces as we progress. That is when the fun begins.
And yet, like many piano students, we come up with every conceivable excuse for not practicing. Here are the most common:
“I don’t need to go to church to worship God.”
Here’s how one church responded to that:
NO EXCUSE SUNDAY: DEDICATED TO MISSING CHURCH ATTENDEES!
To make it possible for everyone to attend church this Sunday, we are going to have a special "No Excuse Sunday": Cots will be placed in the foyer for those who say, "Sunday is my only day to sleep in." There will be a section with lounge chairs for those who feel our pews are too hard. Eye drops will be available for those who stayed up too late watching TV. We will have steel helmets for those who say, "The roof would cave in if I ever came to church." Blankets will be furnished for those who think the church is too cold, and fans for those who say it is too hot. Scorecards will be available to list the hypocrites present. We will distribute "Stamp Out Stewardship" buttons for those who feel the church is always asking for money. One section will be devoted to trees and grass for those who like to seek God in nature. Doctors and nurses will be in attendance for those who plan to be sick on Sunday. The sanctuary will be decorated with both Christmas poinsettias and Easter lilies for those who have never seen the church without them. We will provide hearing aids for those who can't hear the preacher and cotton wool for those who think he's too loud! Hope to see you there! (from http://madtbone.tripod.com)
It is God’s plan for Christians to be part of a church. Alone we fall prey to discouragement, false beliefs, and selfishness. In church we can learn from others. Sermons and small group discussions sharpen our thinking. And close interaction, including inevitable conflict, forces us to learn that love is an action, not just a theory. When we praise together, learn together, seek God together, we encourage others, and they encourage us.
Another copout I hear often is: “I’m not much of a reader.”
So when did God say, “Read the Bible if you love to read,” or “if you understand it all,” or “if you have time today”? It is shocking how many professing Christians do not read the Bible! Yet God says: read it, meditate on it, hide it in our heart, and tell others.
My daughter was away from home the month before we moved, so I packed her room for her. I came across a card I had given her months earlier…unopened. I was crushed. I could still remember how much time I spent picking out the perfect card and the sentiments I wrote inside. Imagine how God feels when we claim to love Him, yet never open His letter to us. He didn’t pick a pre-printed card off a rack, but inspired numerous authors over hundreds of years to record His live-giving message of love for us.
“I’m barely getting by as it is.”
This is the excuse of the non-giver. Yet, God doesn’t say, “Give when you have extra,” or “tithe if you like your pastor.” He says, “Bring the whole tithe… Test me in this…see if I will not… pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it” (Malachi 3:10). First we give then He pours out blessings – on our finances, meeting others’ needs, or funding ministries that bring people to Christ. God doesn’t ask us to give our wealth to make us poor, but to give from our poverty that He might make us rich in Him.
Next is the world’s lie that even Christians have bought into: “I can’t say no.”
The world says it is impossible to be sexually pure, that there is something wrong with a person who is not sexually active before marriage. But God’s directions haven’t changed.
Contrary to today’s philosophy, it is possible to say no. “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it” (1 Corinthians 10:13).The answer is the same as always – look for the way out and take it.
If we accept God’s escape route in today’s culture we will stand out. Unashamed purity declares there is power for those who walk with Christ.
This next one hits home for me: “I’m going through menopause/pregnancy/mid-life so…”
I am currently going through menopause. There are days when I am cranky and irritable for no reason. My changing hormones are messing with my normal equilibrium, but I haven’t found any loopholes for menopausal madness in the Bible.
Psalm 4:4 says, “In your anger do not sin; when you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent.” In the New Testament, Paul adds, "Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry” (Ephesians 4:26). Try replacing the word “anger” with your current weakness. “In your menopause, pregnancy, mid-life crisis, job loss, parenting teenagers etc. - do not sin.” Our feelings are real, jarring, confusing, but when we pause and ask for His Spirit to act through us, Jesus will enable us to respond in redeeming ways.
Finally, we come to the spiritual discipline that really kicks us in the gut, and the common excuse for not participating is: “I’m not good at fasting.”
So who is? We live in a country where we eat our fill at every meal. We are perplexed by Jesus’ expectation to sacrifice comfort. Yet Jesus said, "When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do” (Matthew 6:16-17, emphasis mine), not “if.”
There are medical conditions that prohibit some people from a complete fast. However, there are many kinds of fasts – a partial fast (giving up dessert, coffee, or one meal a week), a juice or fruit and vegetable only fast, or giving up non-food items like texting, Facebook, or television for a specific period of time. Fasting is saying no to our flesh and yes to God - so we can pray, read His Word, or seek direction.
For me, fasting is one of the hardest disciplines because my mind and body, which are used to getting their own way, want to control my spirit. That is what makes it such a powerful tool against the enemy. When we are willing to sacrifice our desires to fill up on God, we become spiritually stronger.
So many times we fail in spiritual disciplines because we never get started. We figure if we don’t like practicing, we must be exempt. I have to say, as a young music student, I didn’t enjoy practice at first. But the more I did, the more I realized its benefits. Practicing opened doors for me in the music world I never would have imagined. It’s the same way in the spiritual realm.
So what’s holding you back? Do you want to be more like Jesus? Do you want to love God more than yourself and win against evil? Then crumple up that forged note from your mother and get going. Let God show you where to start and how to keep on going even when you want to quit. You will be so glad you did!
Beth Vice, (c) 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Great Questions to Ask Yourself from Vince Antonucci’s, I Became a Christian and All I Got Was This Lousy T-shirt
Normally, all the material on my blog is my own writing. But I just finished reading Vince Antonucci's book, and these questions really made me stop and think. So here goes:
Great Questions to Ask Yourself from Vince Antonucci’s, I Became a Christian and All I Got Was This Lousy T-shirt: Replacing Souvenir Religion with Authentic Spiritual Passion, p. 190-191
Is it possible that there’s something about the Jesus life you’re missing?
• If I feel most alive when I’m watching a movie or playing a video game or reading a book or watching sports, if those are consistently the best parts of my day, what does that say about my life? Shouldn’t it be more exciting to live my life than to watch someone else live theirs?
• In the Bible Jesus led his followers into dangerous places. Do I often find myself in dangerous places? And if not, what does that mean?
• Despite being completely righteous, Jesus attracted the worst of sinners. Are sinful people drawn to me, or are they put off by my so-called righteousness?
• When Jesus came into contact with people, their lives were radically transformed. Are people’s lives changed by knowing me?
• Do I have sinful habits I can’t seem to shake? Why?
• What do I dream about? What does my mind automatically turn to? What should it?
• Would the people who know me best say my life is characterized by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control?
• Do I read the Bible and pray because I can’t wait to spend time with God or because it’s what I’m supposed to do as a Christian?
• And why do I skip my Bible and prayer time on weekends or when I’m out of town? Is that time really just a habit, a part of my routine, or is it the sacred conversation it’s supposed to be?
• Am I living in a safe Christian bubble? If so, why does the world scare me?
• What do I use to escape from my problems? Why do I need to escape from my problems at all? Shouldn’t Jesus help me handle them?
• Do I serve because I get to or because I have to?
• Do I get upset about things in a way that is disproportionate to their importance?
• What are the top items on my current wish list?
• The word Christian literally means “little Christ” – so am I a Christian or do I just call myself one?
• Why isn’t Jesus enough for me?
Great Questions to Ask Yourself from Vince Antonucci’s, I Became a Christian and All I Got Was This Lousy T-shirt: Replacing Souvenir Religion with Authentic Spiritual Passion, p. 190-191
Is it possible that there’s something about the Jesus life you’re missing?
• If I feel most alive when I’m watching a movie or playing a video game or reading a book or watching sports, if those are consistently the best parts of my day, what does that say about my life? Shouldn’t it be more exciting to live my life than to watch someone else live theirs?
• In the Bible Jesus led his followers into dangerous places. Do I often find myself in dangerous places? And if not, what does that mean?
• Despite being completely righteous, Jesus attracted the worst of sinners. Are sinful people drawn to me, or are they put off by my so-called righteousness?
• When Jesus came into contact with people, their lives were radically transformed. Are people’s lives changed by knowing me?
• Do I have sinful habits I can’t seem to shake? Why?
• What do I dream about? What does my mind automatically turn to? What should it?
• Would the people who know me best say my life is characterized by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control?
• Do I read the Bible and pray because I can’t wait to spend time with God or because it’s what I’m supposed to do as a Christian?
• And why do I skip my Bible and prayer time on weekends or when I’m out of town? Is that time really just a habit, a part of my routine, or is it the sacred conversation it’s supposed to be?
• Am I living in a safe Christian bubble? If so, why does the world scare me?
• What do I use to escape from my problems? Why do I need to escape from my problems at all? Shouldn’t Jesus help me handle them?
• Do I serve because I get to or because I have to?
• Do I get upset about things in a way that is disproportionate to their importance?
• What are the top items on my current wish list?
• The word Christian literally means “little Christ” – so am I a Christian or do I just call myself one?
• Why isn’t Jesus enough for me?
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
No Looking Back: After Divorce
For months my second husband and I looked forward to a trip to Disneyland with our five adult children. We wanted an opportunity for everyone to get to know each other and make some new memories as a blended family. We expected some awkwardness and vying for position. What I didn’t expect, however, was to be haunted by flashbacks of my first husband and the trip we had taken our children on years ago. The question nagged me, What happened to that happy family?
This took me by surprise. The gnawing sadness made it difficult to fully enjoy the purpose of the trip, the bonding of our new family. I ran to God and He helped me focus and participate in the present moment. When we got home, the Lord used the story of Lot and his wife to continue His healing in my life – away from the past and on to the future.
God sent two angels to rescue Lot and his family from Sodom before destroying it with fire. As they were leaving, the angel warned them not to look back. Lot’s wife couldn’t resist one last glance and immediately turned into a pillar of salt (Genesis 19).
Why would she do that after such a stern warning? Then again, why would I? Looking back for whatever reason can keep us bogged down in the past and saps energy from our current relationships. And yet, so many of us struggle with the temptation to look back. I discovered five possible motives for a backwards focus in the story of Lot’s wife:
• We’re reluctant to leave people behind
• We refuse to leave our stuff behind
• We want to satisfy our curiosity
• We doubt God’s rescue
• We want revenge
Reluctance to Leave People Behind
It could be that Lot’s wife – I’ll call her Lottie – didn’t want to leave the people she cared about behind. Her daughters’ fiancés had refused to join their escape. How can I let them be incinerated with the rest of the city? What will happen to my daughters now? Have any of our neighbors and friends decided to escape with us?
In the same way, I did not want to leave my husband of almost twenty-one years behind. I was devastated when he said he no longer loved me and held onto the hope that he would come back. Even after the divorce, I dreamed God would make our family whole again.
I had been so distracted by this backward glancing that it was destroying me. A dear friend of mine finally took me by the shoulders and said, “Beth, you’ve got to let him go.” Releasing my love for him seemed like a lack of faith. But my health and emotions were visibly crumbling. God was able to begin healing my heart when I finally accepted the fact that my husband had chosen to leave and that God would take care of me (Isaiah 54:4-6).
Refusal to Leave Stuff Behind
Lottie might not have wanted to leave Sodom because of her stuff. The Bible says Lot was an influential man in the city. He had already been wealthy when he and Abraham parted company years before. Lottie might have recently redecorated her kitchen, or they might have just bought a new house on Snob Hill. What would they have if they left Sodom anyway? Only what they could carry at a run. Was Lottie worried about comfort and security when she took that fateful glance?
A couple accumulates a lot of stuff in twenty years. It was a grisly ordeal in the divorce to list it all, appraise its worth, and parcel it out – one for him, one for her. I couldn’t bear to take down the family portrait until a month after it was all over. I ached at the sight of our once happy family hanging there, but the thought of an empty wall hurt even more. Finally, my girls and I took pictures of each other and filled the wall with new family portraits. And God reminded me that true treasure is not in stuff, but in my relationship with Him and in cherishing all those He puts in my sphere.
Needing to Satisfy Curiosity
Curiosity could have been what ultimately killed Lottie. Did she look back because she wanted to see if the people of Sodom were going to get what was coming to them? Or what burning sulfur looks like?
How many secondary accidents happen because drivers slow to gawk at another wreck? How many people crash spiritually while scrutinizing others? I was distracted by my own curiosity as well. What’s going to happen to him, Lord? I was faithful to my vows. Is this all the reward I get? The more I asked, the more my spirit dragged. It wasn’t until I focused on my own desperate need for God’s grace and forgiveness that I could lay that curiosity aside.
Doubting God’s Rescue
The fourth reason Lottie might have looked back is because she doubted God’s plan. We don’t know her true name, but she left behind a legacy of doubt.Will God really destroy everything in Sodom? How will we survive in the mountains? Lot even pleaded with the angel to let them go to Zoar instead of the mountains for safety. It seems they were both reluctant to trust their rescuers.
I struggled with doubt as well. I hated having to tell people that my first marriage ended in divorce. For a long time I felt like I had a black ‘D’ seared into my forehead; that I was irreparably damaged. I thought no one would want me. Although God was leading me out of despair, I doubted I would ever get over the pain. But now I see how my broken heart has helped me rely more on God, enlarged my compassion for others, and better equipped me to testify to His faithfulness.
Wanting Revenge
There’s one final option why Lottie might have looked back at Sodom. Revenge. When the angels entered her home, the men of Sodom surrounded the house and demanded to have sex with them. Lot offered his virgin daughters for them to abuse instead (Genesis 19:4-11). How could a mother live in this kind of environment? She might have looked back at Sodom to revel in watching the city burn.
It’s tough to admit, but even while praying to forgive my husband, I had thoughts of revenge. I did not dig my key into the side of his sports car or slash his tires. I tried not to say negative things about him, and remained civil when talking to him and his new wife. But in my dreams…I told him what I really thought, I beat the tar out of his cute little wench, and I became the sexy divorcee that everyone said he was an idiot to leave.
When I suffered physically, I wanted him to suffer physically. When I had financial troubles, I wanted him to have them too. When I felt lonely and worthless, I wanted him to know how it felt to be betrayed and abandoned. God reminded me that it is not my business to get revenge. My job is to trust Him and do the right thing. Day by day it got a little easier.
I am no longer looking back at the shadows of what could or should have been. Lottie’s story revealed the dangers to me in a whole new way. Now I am focusing on my relationship with the wonderful man God has brought into my life and our future together. God’s grace enables me to walk with joy, confidence, and incredible gratitude for what He has done for me.
All of us have a Sodom we need to leave behind - a crushed dream, a lost relationship, a hurt filled childhood, a life of sin. Lottie turned into a pillar of salt when she looked back. It’s not worth the consequences. When the enemy haunts you with shadows from your past, cry to God for help. He will rescue you and lead you on to a new and better place.
(c) Beth Vice, May 2010
This took me by surprise. The gnawing sadness made it difficult to fully enjoy the purpose of the trip, the bonding of our new family. I ran to God and He helped me focus and participate in the present moment. When we got home, the Lord used the story of Lot and his wife to continue His healing in my life – away from the past and on to the future.
God sent two angels to rescue Lot and his family from Sodom before destroying it with fire. As they were leaving, the angel warned them not to look back. Lot’s wife couldn’t resist one last glance and immediately turned into a pillar of salt (Genesis 19).
Why would she do that after such a stern warning? Then again, why would I? Looking back for whatever reason can keep us bogged down in the past and saps energy from our current relationships. And yet, so many of us struggle with the temptation to look back. I discovered five possible motives for a backwards focus in the story of Lot’s wife:
• We’re reluctant to leave people behind
• We refuse to leave our stuff behind
• We want to satisfy our curiosity
• We doubt God’s rescue
• We want revenge
Reluctance to Leave People Behind
It could be that Lot’s wife – I’ll call her Lottie – didn’t want to leave the people she cared about behind. Her daughters’ fiancés had refused to join their escape. How can I let them be incinerated with the rest of the city? What will happen to my daughters now? Have any of our neighbors and friends decided to escape with us?
In the same way, I did not want to leave my husband of almost twenty-one years behind. I was devastated when he said he no longer loved me and held onto the hope that he would come back. Even after the divorce, I dreamed God would make our family whole again.
I had been so distracted by this backward glancing that it was destroying me. A dear friend of mine finally took me by the shoulders and said, “Beth, you’ve got to let him go.” Releasing my love for him seemed like a lack of faith. But my health and emotions were visibly crumbling. God was able to begin healing my heart when I finally accepted the fact that my husband had chosen to leave and that God would take care of me (Isaiah 54:4-6).
Refusal to Leave Stuff Behind
Lottie might not have wanted to leave Sodom because of her stuff. The Bible says Lot was an influential man in the city. He had already been wealthy when he and Abraham parted company years before. Lottie might have recently redecorated her kitchen, or they might have just bought a new house on Snob Hill. What would they have if they left Sodom anyway? Only what they could carry at a run. Was Lottie worried about comfort and security when she took that fateful glance?
A couple accumulates a lot of stuff in twenty years. It was a grisly ordeal in the divorce to list it all, appraise its worth, and parcel it out – one for him, one for her. I couldn’t bear to take down the family portrait until a month after it was all over. I ached at the sight of our once happy family hanging there, but the thought of an empty wall hurt even more. Finally, my girls and I took pictures of each other and filled the wall with new family portraits. And God reminded me that true treasure is not in stuff, but in my relationship with Him and in cherishing all those He puts in my sphere.
Needing to Satisfy Curiosity
Curiosity could have been what ultimately killed Lottie. Did she look back because she wanted to see if the people of Sodom were going to get what was coming to them? Or what burning sulfur looks like?
How many secondary accidents happen because drivers slow to gawk at another wreck? How many people crash spiritually while scrutinizing others? I was distracted by my own curiosity as well. What’s going to happen to him, Lord? I was faithful to my vows. Is this all the reward I get? The more I asked, the more my spirit dragged. It wasn’t until I focused on my own desperate need for God’s grace and forgiveness that I could lay that curiosity aside.
Doubting God’s Rescue
The fourth reason Lottie might have looked back is because she doubted God’s plan. We don’t know her true name, but she left behind a legacy of doubt.Will God really destroy everything in Sodom? How will we survive in the mountains? Lot even pleaded with the angel to let them go to Zoar instead of the mountains for safety. It seems they were both reluctant to trust their rescuers.
I struggled with doubt as well. I hated having to tell people that my first marriage ended in divorce. For a long time I felt like I had a black ‘D’ seared into my forehead; that I was irreparably damaged. I thought no one would want me. Although God was leading me out of despair, I doubted I would ever get over the pain. But now I see how my broken heart has helped me rely more on God, enlarged my compassion for others, and better equipped me to testify to His faithfulness.
Wanting Revenge
There’s one final option why Lottie might have looked back at Sodom. Revenge. When the angels entered her home, the men of Sodom surrounded the house and demanded to have sex with them. Lot offered his virgin daughters for them to abuse instead (Genesis 19:4-11). How could a mother live in this kind of environment? She might have looked back at Sodom to revel in watching the city burn.
It’s tough to admit, but even while praying to forgive my husband, I had thoughts of revenge. I did not dig my key into the side of his sports car or slash his tires. I tried not to say negative things about him, and remained civil when talking to him and his new wife. But in my dreams…I told him what I really thought, I beat the tar out of his cute little wench, and I became the sexy divorcee that everyone said he was an idiot to leave.
When I suffered physically, I wanted him to suffer physically. When I had financial troubles, I wanted him to have them too. When I felt lonely and worthless, I wanted him to know how it felt to be betrayed and abandoned. God reminded me that it is not my business to get revenge. My job is to trust Him and do the right thing. Day by day it got a little easier.
I am no longer looking back at the shadows of what could or should have been. Lottie’s story revealed the dangers to me in a whole new way. Now I am focusing on my relationship with the wonderful man God has brought into my life and our future together. God’s grace enables me to walk with joy, confidence, and incredible gratitude for what He has done for me.
All of us have a Sodom we need to leave behind - a crushed dream, a lost relationship, a hurt filled childhood, a life of sin. Lottie turned into a pillar of salt when she looked back. It’s not worth the consequences. When the enemy haunts you with shadows from your past, cry to God for help. He will rescue you and lead you on to a new and better place.
(c) Beth Vice, May 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Hiding Ursula: Confession
I played cards with my five year old niece not long ago. Always an interesting experience. The idea of the game was to make as many princess pairs as possible without ending up with the Joker - Ursula the sea witch.
We laid down the pairs we already had then took turns selecting one card from the other person’s hand. Eyes closed, of course. Tori was noticeably upset when she drew Ursula from my hand. I was waiting for the chance to get it back in the remaining turns, but she never showed up. Finally, I realized there were several cards missing. We kept exchanging the same few cards without making any new matches.
So I challenged her, “Tori, do you have the Ursula card somewhere other than in your hand?”
She squirmed and shrugged; looking at me with angel blue eyes, but wouldn’t admit to anything. Then in a telltale move, she glanced at the hiding place behind her.
“Did you hide Ursula behind your back?”
Tori sheepishly admitted, “I don’t like Ursula.”
“But honey, if you hide Ursula behind your back you automatically lose the game. I can’t pick her from your hand if she’s back there.” I saw realization in her eyes.
How many times have I done that? I try to hide my sin from God (as if I could) because I know it’s bad. But then God can’t deal with the sin that is troubling me. Jesus wants to take it away. He knows the secret place in my heart where I have hidden it. He is waiting for me to hold it out and let Him take the offending card – my impure thoughts, my complaining spirit, my selfishness and ingratitude, my feelings of worthlessness and despair, my cutting words.
Why do I conceal these sins behind my back? Do I think if I ignore them they will go away? Or have I been duped by Satan’s lie that God wants to ruin all my fun? Or am I so ashamed of what I have done, what I have spoken, what I have thought, that I don’t think God will want to forgive me? When I believe those lies I’m the one who loses. The Bible assures us that when we confess, He forgives, period.
Life is so much more than a game. What we choose to do with sin now not only affects where we spend eternity, but it makes a profound difference in our life here and now. Confession destroys the barrier between us and God, as well as us and others. It opens the door to love, peace, laughter, strength, and so much more! I am ashamed I have tried to hide anything from the One who wants what is best for me. I am determined to daily, even moment by moment, hold out those Ursula cards for Jesus to deal with as only He can.
(c) Beth Vice, 2010
We laid down the pairs we already had then took turns selecting one card from the other person’s hand. Eyes closed, of course. Tori was noticeably upset when she drew Ursula from my hand. I was waiting for the chance to get it back in the remaining turns, but she never showed up. Finally, I realized there were several cards missing. We kept exchanging the same few cards without making any new matches.
So I challenged her, “Tori, do you have the Ursula card somewhere other than in your hand?”
She squirmed and shrugged; looking at me with angel blue eyes, but wouldn’t admit to anything. Then in a telltale move, she glanced at the hiding place behind her.
“Did you hide Ursula behind your back?”
Tori sheepishly admitted, “I don’t like Ursula.”
“But honey, if you hide Ursula behind your back you automatically lose the game. I can’t pick her from your hand if she’s back there.” I saw realization in her eyes.
How many times have I done that? I try to hide my sin from God (as if I could) because I know it’s bad. But then God can’t deal with the sin that is troubling me. Jesus wants to take it away. He knows the secret place in my heart where I have hidden it. He is waiting for me to hold it out and let Him take the offending card – my impure thoughts, my complaining spirit, my selfishness and ingratitude, my feelings of worthlessness and despair, my cutting words.
Why do I conceal these sins behind my back? Do I think if I ignore them they will go away? Or have I been duped by Satan’s lie that God wants to ruin all my fun? Or am I so ashamed of what I have done, what I have spoken, what I have thought, that I don’t think God will want to forgive me? When I believe those lies I’m the one who loses. The Bible assures us that when we confess, He forgives, period.
Life is so much more than a game. What we choose to do with sin now not only affects where we spend eternity, but it makes a profound difference in our life here and now. Confession destroys the barrier between us and God, as well as us and others. It opens the door to love, peace, laughter, strength, and so much more! I am ashamed I have tried to hide anything from the One who wants what is best for me. I am determined to daily, even moment by moment, hold out those Ursula cards for Jesus to deal with as only He can.
(c) Beth Vice, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Comparing Scars: Easter
It doesn’t take long in any group before people start telling scar stories. One person mentions a broken arm or leg, a concussion, and pretty soon everyone is rolling up their sleeves or pant legs to tell another “I can top that” story. Getting older doesn’t make us immune to showing off either. My sister caught sight of Grandpa doing just that with her neighbor across the street. She witnessed two old men in coveralls unzipped to the waist comparing their scars from open heart surgery.
Their scars saved their lives, but most of our scars are from childhood injuries or stupid stunts we pulled. My oldest daughter has a perfect two-inch circle on each leg from leaning against a motorcycle exhaust pipe when she was young. The horrible burns weren’t enough for her though; she picked at the scabs until they became infected. Then she would really have something to show off.
Although you have to dig through her hair to find it, my younger daughter has a scar on her head from stitches she got at age three. She and her friends played in the back while we moms visited inside. My girlfriend didn’t know her boy had dragged his father’s pick axe into the sandbox. Suddenly the whole tribe came running in the house with my daughter screaming wildly. Crimson blood streamed through her white-blonde hair. One of the children had picked up the axe and fell backward under its weight cutting her head.
Imagine what the boasting might sound like in heaven if a group of top name Christians started comparing their scars.
“These stripes on my back,” Paul might say, pulling back his robe, “are from the time I was lashed 39 times for preaching about Jesus. I got these rope burns when the believers in Damascus snuck me out of the city.” He gives a sideways glance. “They lowered me in a basket through a hole in the wall.” The men around him laugh. “And these scars are from the shipwreck off the coast of Malta, and here’s where the viper bit me...”
When one of the men is distracted by the obvious deformity of another, Apostle John explains. “My skin just hasn’t been the same they boiled me in oil. They thought they could get me to denounce my faith. When I survived that, they exiled me to the Island of Patmos rather than risk any further embarrassment.”
Elijah, Jeremiah, John the Baptist, everybody gets in on the act. For days on end, Christians persecuted throughout the ages show bullet wounds, saw marks, seared flesh, spear marks, and tell how they were hunted like wild animals. Everybody tries to top the last guy…until Jesus walks into the room. Suddenly everyone is silent.
I see myself in the crowd. Jesus approaches me and points to the scar on my knee and asks, “How did this happen child?
I am embarrassed. I don't have any grand stories of persecution, escape, or endurance. My scars are small in comparison. But He persists, so I answer. “You already know, Lord. You were there. You know all about me.”
His eyes are warm as He smiles and nods. “Tell me anyway. I want to hear it from you.”
“I got that from rollerblading. I skinned my knee, cut my thumb, and wrenched my shoulder when I fell. My daughters’ laughter hurt more though. They thought it was pretty funny, their forty-two year old mom on roller blades.”
“Yes,” replies Jesus. He touches the scar at His temples. “I know how it feels to be made fun of. They put a crown of thorns on me and laughed at the thought of my being a king.” He takes my hand and we begin to walk. He notices the scar on my finger. “How about this one?”
“That’s from high school wood shop. The person before me took the safety arm off the table saw and forgot to put it back. I didn’t notice until my board started to kick back. I panicked and let go. The board sliced through my finger, hit me in the stomach, and bounced off the wall in front of me.”
“Hmm,” Jesus sympathizes. “People don’t realize what they’re doing sometimes. See these scars on my hands and feet? The men who nailed me to the cross didn't know what they were doing. They had no idea.”
I feel so insignificant compared to my Savior, and yet here He is identifying with my pain. He leads me to a grassy spot and we sit. “What about this dent in your leg; what caused that?”
“Oh,” I laugh, “that’s kind of embarrassing. I got pinned to the ground by my yard debris bin.” Jesus laughs a kind hearted chuckle. “It had a lot of dirt and rocks mixed with the weeds and branches. When I tipped it to roll down the driveway it fell back on me and smashed my leg.” He looks sympathetic, so I continue. “I couldn’t lift it off or squirm out from under it and was afraid I had broken my leg. It was dark and cold, and no one around. I screamed until my voice almost gave out before my neighbors heard me. It took three men to lift it off. I felt scared and so alone.”
I see a tear coursing down Jesus’ face. “I remember how it is to feel alone. I had never felt that before. Even though there’s no scar to show you, that was my deepest wound of all. When the weight of the world’s sin was heavy on me, my Father had to look away. It is the only time we have ever been separated. That was the worst part of my death. I have never felt so forsaken.”
Seeing Jesus’ grief gives me courage to lean against His chest and wrap my arms around Him. “I am sorry, Lord. I know how it feels when the one you love the most turns away from you.” My heart hurts in remembering and He reaches out His hand to soothe my pain.
He nods. “Yes, Judas betrayed me, all the disciples except John ran away in fear, and even my Father had to turn away. I gave up my spirit after that and a soldier thrust his sword in here to make sure I was dead,” Jesus opens his robe and shows me the crimson scar. I touch it gingerly and melt into His chest weeping. I am embarrassed of my small scars. They are so insignificant compared to His. Yet this whole time Jesus has shown only compassion.
I look up at His face and Jesus is smiling! I pull back in surprise and He laughs - a glorious, head-back, joy-filled laugh. “All the pain is over now, child. None of your scars can hurt you anymore, because I wear these scars for you. I suffered shame, cursing, abandonment, cruelty, and uttermost darkness for you – I have conquered sin and death! I am alive to give you life. Your scars will all disappear when you receive your new heavenly body.”
“But what about yours?” I ask. “Why do you still have scars?”
“Because I am the perfect Lamb, slain for you. I will always wear these scars to remind people of what I have done. Everyone who comes to me for forgiveness will have all their scars healed.”
I didn’t want to leave, but the vision ended. I discovered myself back in my chair reading Revelation, “Then I saw a Lamb, looking as if it had been slain, standing in the center of the throne… (5:6)” The Lion of Judah, the King of Kings, the sacrificed Lamb; my Savior. He is the only One who has scars worth bragging about. He didn’t get them by doing something stupid, or even to save His own life. He earned His scars by loving us to death, and back to life again.
© Beth Vice, March 2010
Their scars saved their lives, but most of our scars are from childhood injuries or stupid stunts we pulled. My oldest daughter has a perfect two-inch circle on each leg from leaning against a motorcycle exhaust pipe when she was young. The horrible burns weren’t enough for her though; she picked at the scabs until they became infected. Then she would really have something to show off.
Although you have to dig through her hair to find it, my younger daughter has a scar on her head from stitches she got at age three. She and her friends played in the back while we moms visited inside. My girlfriend didn’t know her boy had dragged his father’s pick axe into the sandbox. Suddenly the whole tribe came running in the house with my daughter screaming wildly. Crimson blood streamed through her white-blonde hair. One of the children had picked up the axe and fell backward under its weight cutting her head.
Imagine what the boasting might sound like in heaven if a group of top name Christians started comparing their scars.
“These stripes on my back,” Paul might say, pulling back his robe, “are from the time I was lashed 39 times for preaching about Jesus. I got these rope burns when the believers in Damascus snuck me out of the city.” He gives a sideways glance. “They lowered me in a basket through a hole in the wall.” The men around him laugh. “And these scars are from the shipwreck off the coast of Malta, and here’s where the viper bit me...”
When one of the men is distracted by the obvious deformity of another, Apostle John explains. “My skin just hasn’t been the same they boiled me in oil. They thought they could get me to denounce my faith. When I survived that, they exiled me to the Island of Patmos rather than risk any further embarrassment.”
Elijah, Jeremiah, John the Baptist, everybody gets in on the act. For days on end, Christians persecuted throughout the ages show bullet wounds, saw marks, seared flesh, spear marks, and tell how they were hunted like wild animals. Everybody tries to top the last guy…until Jesus walks into the room. Suddenly everyone is silent.
I see myself in the crowd. Jesus approaches me and points to the scar on my knee and asks, “How did this happen child?
I am embarrassed. I don't have any grand stories of persecution, escape, or endurance. My scars are small in comparison. But He persists, so I answer. “You already know, Lord. You were there. You know all about me.”
His eyes are warm as He smiles and nods. “Tell me anyway. I want to hear it from you.”
“I got that from rollerblading. I skinned my knee, cut my thumb, and wrenched my shoulder when I fell. My daughters’ laughter hurt more though. They thought it was pretty funny, their forty-two year old mom on roller blades.”
“Yes,” replies Jesus. He touches the scar at His temples. “I know how it feels to be made fun of. They put a crown of thorns on me and laughed at the thought of my being a king.” He takes my hand and we begin to walk. He notices the scar on my finger. “How about this one?”
“That’s from high school wood shop. The person before me took the safety arm off the table saw and forgot to put it back. I didn’t notice until my board started to kick back. I panicked and let go. The board sliced through my finger, hit me in the stomach, and bounced off the wall in front of me.”
“Hmm,” Jesus sympathizes. “People don’t realize what they’re doing sometimes. See these scars on my hands and feet? The men who nailed me to the cross didn't know what they were doing. They had no idea.”
I feel so insignificant compared to my Savior, and yet here He is identifying with my pain. He leads me to a grassy spot and we sit. “What about this dent in your leg; what caused that?”
“Oh,” I laugh, “that’s kind of embarrassing. I got pinned to the ground by my yard debris bin.” Jesus laughs a kind hearted chuckle. “It had a lot of dirt and rocks mixed with the weeds and branches. When I tipped it to roll down the driveway it fell back on me and smashed my leg.” He looks sympathetic, so I continue. “I couldn’t lift it off or squirm out from under it and was afraid I had broken my leg. It was dark and cold, and no one around. I screamed until my voice almost gave out before my neighbors heard me. It took three men to lift it off. I felt scared and so alone.”
I see a tear coursing down Jesus’ face. “I remember how it is to feel alone. I had never felt that before. Even though there’s no scar to show you, that was my deepest wound of all. When the weight of the world’s sin was heavy on me, my Father had to look away. It is the only time we have ever been separated. That was the worst part of my death. I have never felt so forsaken.”
Seeing Jesus’ grief gives me courage to lean against His chest and wrap my arms around Him. “I am sorry, Lord. I know how it feels when the one you love the most turns away from you.” My heart hurts in remembering and He reaches out His hand to soothe my pain.
He nods. “Yes, Judas betrayed me, all the disciples except John ran away in fear, and even my Father had to turn away. I gave up my spirit after that and a soldier thrust his sword in here to make sure I was dead,” Jesus opens his robe and shows me the crimson scar. I touch it gingerly and melt into His chest weeping. I am embarrassed of my small scars. They are so insignificant compared to His. Yet this whole time Jesus has shown only compassion.
I look up at His face and Jesus is smiling! I pull back in surprise and He laughs - a glorious, head-back, joy-filled laugh. “All the pain is over now, child. None of your scars can hurt you anymore, because I wear these scars for you. I suffered shame, cursing, abandonment, cruelty, and uttermost darkness for you – I have conquered sin and death! I am alive to give you life. Your scars will all disappear when you receive your new heavenly body.”
“But what about yours?” I ask. “Why do you still have scars?”
“Because I am the perfect Lamb, slain for you. I will always wear these scars to remind people of what I have done. Everyone who comes to me for forgiveness will have all their scars healed.”
I didn’t want to leave, but the vision ended. I discovered myself back in my chair reading Revelation, “Then I saw a Lamb, looking as if it had been slain, standing in the center of the throne… (5:6)” The Lion of Judah, the King of Kings, the sacrificed Lamb; my Savior. He is the only One who has scars worth bragging about. He didn’t get them by doing something stupid, or even to save His own life. He earned His scars by loving us to death, and back to life again.
© Beth Vice, March 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Fleas, Yeast, and Easter Housecleaning: Preparing for Easter
We went to a fancy beach house recently to spend the weekend with our kids and first grandbaby. We had reserved an elegant two story home with a back deck that leads right onto the sand of a long, semi-private beach. But the trip was ruined by fleas. At first we started finding them on our eight month old granddaughter’s head. That took away her freedom to sit on her blanket or roll around on the floor. Next we felt them chewing on our ankles. Despite the lovely setting and our excitement to be together, the fleas were a constant annoyance. We felt guilty every night as our kids said goodnight, knowing they were sleeping in flea infested bedrooms. Despite constant cleaning, washing clothes, and setting off flea bombs, we still found them everywhere.
Going home was no relief. My husband and I were itchy and freaked out for days. Every time we saw a black spot we were sure it was a flea. I washed everything we took on our trip, dirty or not. So much for a relaxing weekend. Even after every precaution, I woke up with new bites on my legs the next morning. Did we all take home fleas from vacation?
The sad thing is that none of this was our fault. Someone else brought in the first flea weeks ago and they went undetected until we entered the beach house. But we certainly felt the effects.
My husband did some research and found out that it takes only one flea to infest a home. Here are some itchy flea facts:
• Each flea can lay up to 2,000 eggs
• The eggs hatch into pupa in two weeks (during which time they go undetected)
• At three to four weeks the fleas are full grown
• Fleas can live on skin, blood, and fecal matter in a house for three to four weeks without a live host
• Bombing only kills fleas in the adult stage, not the eggs or pupa
• Fleas lay eggs in out of the way places that are not regularly cleaned, such as the carpet edge by the wall
Since it is less than a month until Easter, I have been thinking about ways to prepare my heart and truly focus on Jesus. This flea episode has given me some ideas. In Jewish homes, yeast is hunted down and destroyed for the celebration of Passover, which comes just prior to Easter. Bread without yeast commemorates the haste in which the Israelites had to leave Egypt and is symbolic of ridding their lives of sin before leaving for the Promised Land. Yeast is as unwanted during the holiday as our vacation fleas were.
In the New Testament, yeast is a symbol for sin which starts small but spreads at an alarming rate. Jesus warned His disciples about the yeast of the Pharisees, meaning their hypocrisy (Matthew 16, Mark 8, and Luke 12). Paul wrote, “Don't you know that a little yeast works through the whole batch of dough?” (1 Corinthians 5:6-7 and Galatians 5:9-10). He used yeast as an example of wrong teaching and selfish attitudes that can infect an entire body of believers. Just like fleas.
So how can I get rid of this yeast (sin) in my heart before it spreads to the rest of my family, my church, and beyond? My newly acquired knowledge in flea eradication turns out to be good spiritual advice as well. And just happens to match the verses I have been memorizing:
Be on the alert for incoming
It only takes one flea to infect a home and one sin to infect a group of believers. We have to be on guard! Sin can wear many disguises. The psalmist expresses my thoughts perfectly: “Who can discern his errors? Forgive my hidden faults” (Psalm 19:12). I invite the Lord to search my heart for quiet intruders before they reproduce.
Set off occasional bombs
This sounds drastic, and it is. We had to set off several bombs in the beach house to kill the full grown fleas that were feasting on us and making us miserable. Psalm 19:13 says, “Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me. Then will I be blameless, innocent of great transgression.” The full grown fleas are the obvious, premeditated sins in my life. They ruin relationships, suck the lifeblood of my faith, and will lead to other sins if not dealt with.
Practice regular house cleaning
It’s not my favorite thing to do, but occasionally I vacuum the edges of each room, clean the window coverings, de-crumb the furniture, and wipe down the woodwork of our home. It is tedious and time consuming, but it feels good to get everything sparkling. Easter is a good time to do spiritual spring cleaning. Two areas that need regular maintenance in my life are my words and my thoughts. The psalmist said, “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer” (Psalm 19:14).
I want to be ready to celebrate Easter with a pure heart. Like fleas, like yeast, like sin – there always seems to be little beasties creeping in and trying to take over. I do hate fleas! Hopefully our experience with them will be a good reminder to hate sin in my life even more.
© Beth Vice, 2010
Going home was no relief. My husband and I were itchy and freaked out for days. Every time we saw a black spot we were sure it was a flea. I washed everything we took on our trip, dirty or not. So much for a relaxing weekend. Even after every precaution, I woke up with new bites on my legs the next morning. Did we all take home fleas from vacation?
The sad thing is that none of this was our fault. Someone else brought in the first flea weeks ago and they went undetected until we entered the beach house. But we certainly felt the effects.
My husband did some research and found out that it takes only one flea to infest a home. Here are some itchy flea facts:
• Each flea can lay up to 2,000 eggs
• The eggs hatch into pupa in two weeks (during which time they go undetected)
• At three to four weeks the fleas are full grown
• Fleas can live on skin, blood, and fecal matter in a house for three to four weeks without a live host
• Bombing only kills fleas in the adult stage, not the eggs or pupa
• Fleas lay eggs in out of the way places that are not regularly cleaned, such as the carpet edge by the wall
Since it is less than a month until Easter, I have been thinking about ways to prepare my heart and truly focus on Jesus. This flea episode has given me some ideas. In Jewish homes, yeast is hunted down and destroyed for the celebration of Passover, which comes just prior to Easter. Bread without yeast commemorates the haste in which the Israelites had to leave Egypt and is symbolic of ridding their lives of sin before leaving for the Promised Land. Yeast is as unwanted during the holiday as our vacation fleas were.
In the New Testament, yeast is a symbol for sin which starts small but spreads at an alarming rate. Jesus warned His disciples about the yeast of the Pharisees, meaning their hypocrisy (Matthew 16, Mark 8, and Luke 12). Paul wrote, “Don't you know that a little yeast works through the whole batch of dough?” (1 Corinthians 5:6-7 and Galatians 5:9-10). He used yeast as an example of wrong teaching and selfish attitudes that can infect an entire body of believers. Just like fleas.
So how can I get rid of this yeast (sin) in my heart before it spreads to the rest of my family, my church, and beyond? My newly acquired knowledge in flea eradication turns out to be good spiritual advice as well. And just happens to match the verses I have been memorizing:
Be on the alert for incoming
It only takes one flea to infect a home and one sin to infect a group of believers. We have to be on guard! Sin can wear many disguises. The psalmist expresses my thoughts perfectly: “Who can discern his errors? Forgive my hidden faults” (Psalm 19:12). I invite the Lord to search my heart for quiet intruders before they reproduce.
Set off occasional bombs
This sounds drastic, and it is. We had to set off several bombs in the beach house to kill the full grown fleas that were feasting on us and making us miserable. Psalm 19:13 says, “Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me. Then will I be blameless, innocent of great transgression.” The full grown fleas are the obvious, premeditated sins in my life. They ruin relationships, suck the lifeblood of my faith, and will lead to other sins if not dealt with.
Practice regular house cleaning
It’s not my favorite thing to do, but occasionally I vacuum the edges of each room, clean the window coverings, de-crumb the furniture, and wipe down the woodwork of our home. It is tedious and time consuming, but it feels good to get everything sparkling. Easter is a good time to do spiritual spring cleaning. Two areas that need regular maintenance in my life are my words and my thoughts. The psalmist said, “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer” (Psalm 19:14).
I want to be ready to celebrate Easter with a pure heart. Like fleas, like yeast, like sin – there always seems to be little beasties creeping in and trying to take over. I do hate fleas! Hopefully our experience with them will be a good reminder to hate sin in my life even more.
© Beth Vice, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Dance With the Joyful, from Peace Within Your Borders
The following devotion is from an updated version of Peace Within Your Borders - a devotional for homeschooling moms. This is from the month of July: Living in Joy.
You might be going through heartache or tremendous pressure right now. And as you read the title of this week’s devotion, you might have thought, “Yeah, right. I don’t feel very much like dancing today. In fact, I’m not sure I will ever dance again.”
Jeremiah was called the weeping prophet for very good reason. He had the depressing task of telling his people that because of their disobedience they were going to be conquered by the Babylonians. God said they would not repent or believe him until it happened, but to tell them anyway. They responded to his message by putting him in a well, where they left him for dead. Jeremiah 38:6 says, “They lowered Jeremiah by ropes into the cistern; it had no water in it, only mud, and Jeremiah sank down into the mud.”
Maybe that’s how it feels where you are today, like you’re sinking down into the mud. If you’re not there now, perhaps you remember a time when you were. Before Jeremiah ended up in the well, God gave him a word of hope. The nation would suffer tremendously, but eventually things would get better for the faithful. They would feel joy again; they would dance again.
Hudson Taylor said, “It doesn’t matter, really, how great the pressure is; it only matters where the pressure lies. See that it never comes between you and the Lord – then, the greater the pressure, the more it presses you to His breast.”
Chuck Swindoll commented on this in his book Laugh Again: “The pressure on you may be intense. A half-dozen joy stealers may be waiting outside your door, ready to pounce at the first opportunity. However, nothing can rob you of your hold on grace, your claim to peace, or your confidence in God without your permission. Choose joy. Never release your grip!”
I encourage you today. Hold onto to the joy God planted in your heart the day you gave your life to Him. Heartache, grief, and pressure may be bearing down on you so hard you feel you can hardly take a breath. Don’t let the pressure separate you from Christ, but instead drive you closer to Him. Jesus has experienced this kind of pain. But He chose to look beyond the cross and the rejection of man, to the joyous victory of the resurrection. And because He conquered death, we can dance.
Dearest Father, there are days when I don’t feel very much like dancing. The pain of this world crushes and perplexes me. In times like this draw me close to you. Don’t let me lose my grip on joy. I will trust in you. Amen.
~ Beth Vice, 2010
Dance With the Joyful
The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying:
"I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness.
I will build you up again and you will be rebuilt, O Virgin Israel.
Again you will take up your tambourines and go out to dance with the joyful.
Again you will plant vineyards on the hills of Samaria;
the farmers will plant them and enjoy their fruit. Jeremiah 31:3-5
You might be going through heartache or tremendous pressure right now. And as you read the title of this week’s devotion, you might have thought, “Yeah, right. I don’t feel very much like dancing today. In fact, I’m not sure I will ever dance again.”
Jeremiah was called the weeping prophet for very good reason. He had the depressing task of telling his people that because of their disobedience they were going to be conquered by the Babylonians. God said they would not repent or believe him until it happened, but to tell them anyway. They responded to his message by putting him in a well, where they left him for dead. Jeremiah 38:6 says, “They lowered Jeremiah by ropes into the cistern; it had no water in it, only mud, and Jeremiah sank down into the mud.”
Maybe that’s how it feels where you are today, like you’re sinking down into the mud. If you’re not there now, perhaps you remember a time when you were. Before Jeremiah ended up in the well, God gave him a word of hope. The nation would suffer tremendously, but eventually things would get better for the faithful. They would feel joy again; they would dance again.
Hudson Taylor said, “It doesn’t matter, really, how great the pressure is; it only matters where the pressure lies. See that it never comes between you and the Lord – then, the greater the pressure, the more it presses you to His breast.”
Chuck Swindoll commented on this in his book Laugh Again: “The pressure on you may be intense. A half-dozen joy stealers may be waiting outside your door, ready to pounce at the first opportunity. However, nothing can rob you of your hold on grace, your claim to peace, or your confidence in God without your permission. Choose joy. Never release your grip!”
I encourage you today. Hold onto to the joy God planted in your heart the day you gave your life to Him. Heartache, grief, and pressure may be bearing down on you so hard you feel you can hardly take a breath. Don’t let the pressure separate you from Christ, but instead drive you closer to Him. Jesus has experienced this kind of pain. But He chose to look beyond the cross and the rejection of man, to the joyous victory of the resurrection. And because He conquered death, we can dance.
Dearest Father, there are days when I don’t feel very much like dancing. The pain of this world crushes and perplexes me. In times like this draw me close to you. Don’t let me lose my grip on joy. I will trust in you. Amen.
~ Beth Vice, 2010
Give in to the Joy, from Peace Within Your Borders
The following devotional is from my newly revised Peace Within Your Borders - a devotional for homeschooling moms. The theme for July is Living in Joy.
My mom is one of two girls. I am one of three girls, and I had two girls of my own. So horseplay has never been a big part of my life. We wrestled and teased more with puns than with a headlock when I was growing up. My daughters parry more often with tickling and practical jokes. However, I do know what it means when someone says, “Do you give? Say uncle!”
In a recent message from Pastor Rob Baker and he challenged us to, “Give in to the Joy.” It was exactly what I needed to hear and has become my new theme. You see, I’ve been a Christian for a long time and I know I have the fruit of joy in me, but so many times I refuse to give in to it. I circle around the negatives of the situation instead of rejoicing in God.
Some other ways to express this thought might be: admit defeat, buckle under, capitulate, cave in, comply, concede, relinquish, resign, submit, surrender, throw in the towel, or yield. Need I say more? Do you give?
The author of Psalm forty-two was depressed. He poured out his pain (which is the first step of healing). God felt far away, others had mocked his faith, he was out of fellowship, and he was suffering physically. In psalm forty-three he continues his tale of woe. Three times in these chapters he repeats the lines of Psalm 42:5, encouraging himself with memories of what God has done for him.
Instead of sitting down for a pity party and inviting us to join him, he said, “Self, don’t be so upset. There’s hope for you yet. You’re going to praise God in the end. Just wait and see. I’m going to remember God’s character and all the good stuff He has done. I will praise Him again. I choose to give in to the joy!”
He lay his case before the Lord. Instead of making heartache his focus, this psalmist cast all his cares on the Lord then chose to praise and wait in hope. God had been faithful before and He would be again. The psalmist’s love for God, his trust and joy in Him were stronger than his misery. He gave in to the joy.
I challenge you as Pastor Rob challenged us. Give in to the joy God has for you. Pour out your heart to Him and leave the pain at His throne. Be honest in His presence; remember what He has done for you in the past. And say ‘Uncle.’ We are happy losers when we surrender to Joy.
Dear Lord, I submit to you. I want to be a person of joy – to let you reign in my heart. Put Joy in the ring to take me down until I give in to its power. This is one fight that I want to lose every time. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
~ Beth Vice, 2010
Give In to the Joy
Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.
Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.
My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you.
Psalm 42:5
My mom is one of two girls. I am one of three girls, and I had two girls of my own. So horseplay has never been a big part of my life. We wrestled and teased more with puns than with a headlock when I was growing up. My daughters parry more often with tickling and practical jokes. However, I do know what it means when someone says, “Do you give? Say uncle!”
In a recent message from Pastor Rob Baker and he challenged us to, “Give in to the Joy.” It was exactly what I needed to hear and has become my new theme. You see, I’ve been a Christian for a long time and I know I have the fruit of joy in me, but so many times I refuse to give in to it. I circle around the negatives of the situation instead of rejoicing in God.
Some other ways to express this thought might be: admit defeat, buckle under, capitulate, cave in, comply, concede, relinquish, resign, submit, surrender, throw in the towel, or yield. Need I say more? Do you give?
The author of Psalm forty-two was depressed. He poured out his pain (which is the first step of healing). God felt far away, others had mocked his faith, he was out of fellowship, and he was suffering physically. In psalm forty-three he continues his tale of woe. Three times in these chapters he repeats the lines of Psalm 42:5, encouraging himself with memories of what God has done for him.
Instead of sitting down for a pity party and inviting us to join him, he said, “Self, don’t be so upset. There’s hope for you yet. You’re going to praise God in the end. Just wait and see. I’m going to remember God’s character and all the good stuff He has done. I will praise Him again. I choose to give in to the joy!”
He lay his case before the Lord. Instead of making heartache his focus, this psalmist cast all his cares on the Lord then chose to praise and wait in hope. God had been faithful before and He would be again. The psalmist’s love for God, his trust and joy in Him were stronger than his misery. He gave in to the joy.
I challenge you as Pastor Rob challenged us. Give in to the joy God has for you. Pour out your heart to Him and leave the pain at His throne. Be honest in His presence; remember what He has done for you in the past. And say ‘Uncle.’ We are happy losers when we surrender to Joy.
Dear Lord, I submit to you. I want to be a person of joy – to let you reign in my heart. Put Joy in the ring to take me down until I give in to its power. This is one fight that I want to lose every time. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
~ Beth Vice, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Hi Guests: Grown Children
My daughter left a couple notes at their house for us when my husband and I stayed there recently. They were out of town but she made us feel so welcome.
I brought home one note and kept it on the kitchen counter for weeks, laughing at myself for treasuring it so. It said,
“Hi Guests! :) Hope you enjoy your stay. Eat anything you want. Love you!”
I kept thinking how silly I was to cherish it; I should throw it out. Why did it mean so much to me anyway? But I think I’ve figured it out.
That short note represents a job well done. We have come to a turning point in our relationship – from mother and child at home; to a grown daughter visiting as a guest in my home. And now the next step: we are guests in their home. The phrases I have always used, “Eat anything/use anything you want” now echo back to me in an open-hearted welcome from her.
Looking around at their pictures and décor while we were there, I got a strong sense of who they are as a couple and my heart swelled. I am proud that they have a place of their own and are making their way in the world. Their love for each other is evident; it echoes in every room, from the blending of their personal treasures, to notes and reminders on the refrigerator.
That is what I raised my daughter for, to be grown up. And while I miss her and hunger for more details about her life, I wouldn’t want to pull her back into childhood. This is good and right.
When she calls me just to connect I feel privileged and warmed. I love hearing about everything – her thoughts, feelings, goals, excitement, and concerns. And she is starting to show interest in mine as well - a true sign that she is indeed an adult.
Call me sentimental, but I think I’ll keep this note from my daughter the hostess in my journal, along with other treasures of my heart. It is a rite of passage that I cannot help but tuck away for safekeeping.
Beth Vice, February 2010
I brought home one note and kept it on the kitchen counter for weeks, laughing at myself for treasuring it so. It said,
“Hi Guests! :) Hope you enjoy your stay. Eat anything you want. Love you!”
I kept thinking how silly I was to cherish it; I should throw it out. Why did it mean so much to me anyway? But I think I’ve figured it out.
That short note represents a job well done. We have come to a turning point in our relationship – from mother and child at home; to a grown daughter visiting as a guest in my home. And now the next step: we are guests in their home. The phrases I have always used, “Eat anything/use anything you want” now echo back to me in an open-hearted welcome from her.
Looking around at their pictures and décor while we were there, I got a strong sense of who they are as a couple and my heart swelled. I am proud that they have a place of their own and are making their way in the world. Their love for each other is evident; it echoes in every room, from the blending of their personal treasures, to notes and reminders on the refrigerator.
That is what I raised my daughter for, to be grown up. And while I miss her and hunger for more details about her life, I wouldn’t want to pull her back into childhood. This is good and right.
When she calls me just to connect I feel privileged and warmed. I love hearing about everything – her thoughts, feelings, goals, excitement, and concerns. And she is starting to show interest in mine as well - a true sign that she is indeed an adult.
Call me sentimental, but I think I’ll keep this note from my daughter the hostess in my journal, along with other treasures of my heart. It is a rite of passage that I cannot help but tuck away for safekeeping.
Beth Vice, February 2010
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