It's a Sawmill Evening

There is something about the quick glance at the red horizon in the NW, with the last remnants of the day peeking over the hills against the clear indigo skies and the stars beginning to break through behind me that carries me back. It is 1965. I’m just leaving my brother’s house and heading to work the graveyard shift at the saw mill. It’s been a hot day, but the cool of the evening is refreshing, and the last embers of the day redden the sky above the hills. I’m living in God’s provision for my education.

There is something about our recent visit to the Methow Valley that took me back to my childhood valley. The wet spring had left a tinge of green on the brown hills. I’m taken back to standing at the head of the Grand Ronde Valley, near one of my childhood homes, and looking toward the hills. There are only 2 weeks in June where they have a tinge of green. By the time the Elgin Roundup hit, the summer sun had baked them a nice golden brown. This summer, standing on the hills high above the Methow, I’m standing on the hill of my youth.

There are mornings when I’m up early, and the angle of the shadows from the sun shining through the neighbor’s trees, the chirp of the waking birds, and the stillness takes me back to heading to the bean fields as a child. Or, when it is drizzling a June drizzle, and the clouds are doing their ghost rider thing against the hills, I’m on my way to the berry patch. Or, perhaps the shadows take me to a stump in a grove of firs on British Columbia's Thetis Island…a stump in 1966. I was there, meeting with God for grace to handle another day with active First Nation Junior Highers.

This morning as I jogged by the golf course, my mind took me to Kennewick in ’69…when I lived on the Schlagel farm and worked as an intern youth pastor at a local church. The cool of the morning against the coming summer heat took me back to playing a round of par 3 golf beside the Columbia before even the groundskeepers were there …playing alone, because it was cheap (actually free if you started early enough).

Sounds, sunsets, green hills, all trigger memories in me…memories of past provision, past experiences. They make me thankful for those whose lives intersected with mine…parents, brothers, pastors, generous farmers, all God’s gifts to me.

The other day, after we had watched our grandson for several hours, our daughter texted us that she had asked her son to share something for which he was thankful before he went to bed. His little 22 month face looked up and immediately, unprompted, he said, “Nanna and Grampa!” That will melt a grandparent’s heart!

It’s nice to be God’s provision for someone! I’m thankful for those who were His provision for me.

Quieted by Singing!

Recently I had one of those grandparent moments that melted my heart. Our grandson had taken a really good nap…2 plus hours. However, when he awoke, he was just the opposite of how he had gone to sleep. How can you put down an angel and somehow they change character when they wake up?!! He was not a happy camper when he awoke. He cried inconsolably. Wailing!

So, I tried our normal routine. When he wakes up, I pick him up (getting more difficult now that he is nearly 22 months old), sit down in the rocker, take a blankee and rock him. Even this didn’t help. So, I tried my secret weapon. I started singing.

I am famous for my singing ability. Or, maybe it is infamous. I remember in my freshman year of high school when I suggested to the Bible Club leadership that I could sing a solo for club. They said, “Dave, you don’t sing!” I still have emotional bruises in my side where our son placed his elbows when he was a teenager in church and I was belting out one of the songs. And, our youngest once awoke in a fear-filled night, and I started singing “His sheep am I.” After a few bars, she said, “OK, Dad. You can go back to sleep!”

So, you can imagine my amazement as I launched into “Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly, Lavender’s green” and the little guy in my arms instantly went quiet. At last, someone appreciates my singing! It can even calm a tearful grandchild. Or, maybe it was silent amazement on his part about what he was hearing. Maybe I scared the child into stillness?

Whichever, it does remind me that God sings to us… ZEP 3:17 The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing."

And, his song can quiet our grumpies…if we listen well.

On Moles, Trojan Horses, and Sleeper Cells

Sometimes we are put in a situation for one purpose. We are planted like a “mole” for a specific task. We go along through life uneventfully, doing our routine, being faithful to our task, and then, like a Trojan horse virus on a computer, God activates us for the task. This is not to say that what we do everyday is not significant. It is. Everything we do for God is potentially significant, impacting things beyond what we can see. But, sometimes, we find ourselves in places where we have the opportunity to save the day. This happened once to Paul’s nephew in Acts 23. We don’t even know his name. We don’t know what he was doing there. But, somehow, he became aware that 40 men who wanted Paul dead were planning to manipulate the system to get Paul on a path where they could overpower his guards and assassinate him. We don’t know how old Paul’s nephew was, but he was old enough to know that his uncle was in serious trouble. So, he went to the prison and told Paul. Paul sent him to the Centurion in command, who, aware of the danger, whisked Paul away to safety in Caesarea under heavy military guard.

This is the only mention of Paul’s nephew in the Bible. He was strategically placed and had one significant thing to do…and he did it faithfully. Like a “mole”, or a “sleeper cell”, when the time was right, when the opportunity came, he acted. It is not difficult to conclude that God has placed us as “moles” in the lives of those around us. We never know when our opportunity will come, we seldom know our strategic importance in someone’s life, but our word, our sentence, our hug, our action might just be significant for them. What we say or do might just make a difference for them.

This is why Carol always leaves a note to the maid along with the good news in written form in every motel room we use…along with a tip. You never know when it will make a difference in someone’s life. This is why some people smile at every clerk or waitress who serves them. You never know when your smile will encourage. This is why I like to carry my family story, THE FOUR STORMS in written form. You never know when it will be significant for someone you meet. While landing in Kansas City a few years ago on a ministry trip, I leaned across the empty seat beside me and re-engaged the man I had met earlier. He was just awakening from his nap. I offered him something I had written about a difficult experience in our family. Taking it, he put it in his briefcase. Then I asked him how I could pray for him (he knew I was a pastor, so it wasn’t too weird to follow God’s Spirit and ask this question). His answer made me realize why I was traveling to Chicago that day. His family was experiencing the same pain our family had experienced. I don’t know what significance my story had for him. But, when God pulled back the curtain and let me peak into his life, I realized that, even though we had self-selected our seating on that Southwest flight, Someone else had strategically planted me.

Be aware. You just might be a “mole” for Jesus!

The Person in Our Picture

We have this Mary Englebreit tear off calendar on our kitchen table. It has Mary Englebreit’s pictures and quotes for each weekday and weekend. It was a particularly difficult and gloomy day in my house. We were sitting at the table pretty much dealing with sickness and despair. I was looking at the picture you see here, of a little girl planting a garden, and suddenly saw something that wasn’t in the picture. Can you see someone in the picture that isn’t in the picture?

No, the little girl is not alone in her garden. The fruitfulness of her plantings and cultivations are not just from her efforts alone. There is someone you can’t see in the picture who is in the picture. Someone else is involved in helping her flowers bloom.

You can’t see the person, but you do see just the nozzle on the watering can, watering the plants behind her.

There is someone in the picture you can’t see; the child is not alone. And, neither are we. There is Someone just outside our sight who is holding the watering can of our lives and making fruitful our efforts.

“You are near, Oh Lord, and all your commands are true.” Psalm 119:151

And, that is faith—believing in the Person you can’t see, but Whose work (water) you can see! And, sometimes, you aren’t even aware of the water…you just see the results!

Never Enough

It was the beginning of the Civil War. President Lincoln was just cutting his teeth on directing the effort to maintain the union. An army of rebellion had taken up residence near Washington DC and soundly defeated the Union’s first foray into battle at a stream named Bull Run. Lincoln needed a general that would lead the growing army and thought he had found the general in George McClellan. McClellan was qualified. He was a leader. He was popular with his troops. He had experience. He had studied the art of war, even observing the siege of Sevastopol in the Crimean War. The troops had the best equipment. They were practiced. But, the one important thing that was needed to restore peace to the union was missing: They didn’t move on Richmond or the Confederate armies.

Lincoln suggested. McClellan ignored. Lincoln asked. McClellan deferred. “We’re outnumbered. We can’t do it. I need more troops. I need more equipment. I need more.” McClellan’s excuses and recalcitrance frustrated Lincoln. Finally Lincoln ordered McClellan to move, to do something. Landing on the James Peninsula, McClellan’s army advanced toward Richmond until they contacted the Rebel trenches, only to stop and wait until the Rebels had recovered and transferred troops to meet the threat. Overall, during the time McClellan commanded the army, he had a bad case of what would be called “Sitskreig” in World War II…immobility.

In many ways, I sense a parallel to efforts to free our neighbors, family, and fellow workers from slavery to find freedom in life in Jesus. Church leaders often find themselves asking for more budgets, more staff, more disciples before they can move outside our walls and impact our community and free some of the slaves. We sit in our services, sit in our meetings, and complain (explain?) that we don’t have enough. If we just had more…more money, more staff, more people, more time, we could reach out. Meanwhile, we are no closer to Richmond. Meanwhile, our friends, neighbors, and fellow employees and students are no closer to freedom.

It is easy to identify others who complain about not having enough. But, then, am I any closer to Richmond myself? Guess I better look at my own need to step out and free the slaves. I am that general! Acts 1:8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." I guess I have enough! Let’s march!

Bulbs or Beauties

What are these? Right…flower bulbs! What kind of flowers?
Daffodils
Tulips
Iris?
If you are a master gardener, you might be able to tell from the bulb, but mostly we have to plant them to find out what kind of flower will grow and bloom. I’m not sure which will bloom, but I do know it will look beautiful.

The bulbs contain a lesson about our future body, as explained in I Corinthians 15. One version paraphrases it… 35-38Some skeptic is sure to ask, "Show me how resurrection works. Give me a diagram; draw me a picture. What does this 'resurrection body' look like?" If you look at this question closely, you realize how absurd it is. There are no diagrams for this kind of thing. We do have a parallel experience in gardening. You plant a "dead" seed; soon there is a flourishing plant. There is no visual likeness between seed and plant. You could never guess what a tomato would look like by looking at a tomato seed. What we plant in the soil and what grows out of it don't look anything alike. The dead body that we bury in the ground and the resurrection body that comes from it will be dramatically different.
39-41You will notice that the variety of bodies is stunning. Just as there are different kinds of seeds, there are different kinds of bodies—humans, animals, birds, fish—each unprecedented in its form. You get a hint at the diversity of resurrection glory by looking at the diversity of bodies not only on earth but in the skies—sun, moon, stars—all these varieties of beauty and brightness. And we're only looking at pre-resurrection "seeds"—who can imagine what the resurrection "plants" will be like!
42-44This image of planting a dead seed and raising a live plant is a mere sketch at best, but perhaps it will help in approaching the mystery of the resurrection body—but only if you keep in mind that when we're raised, we're raised for good, alive forever! The corpse that's planted is no beauty, but when it's raised, it's glorious. Put in the ground weak, it comes up powerful. The seed sown is natural; the seed grown is supernatural—same seed, same body, but what a difference from when it goes down in physical mortality to when it is raised up in spiritual immortality! (MB)

We don’t actually know now what our body will look like in heaven when God raises us. However, we do know it will be something like the tulip. Like the Tulips in Skagit Valley, there is something that has grown inside the Tulip bulb that will produce a beautiful bloom. The earthly body is like the bulb. What we are doing in this body, before we die, determines what kind of flower we will be forever…for what goes on inside of us will come out in our heavenly body…developing in kindness, patience, goodness, peace, joy, thankful spirit…it will show up forever. Most of the time now we can’t tell character by our physical appearance. But we will in eternity because our heavenly body will be a perfect container for the character we are developing this side of eternity. That’s the whole idea of resurrection…what we do now, what kind of “seed” we are becoming, will determine what kind of bloom we will be forever.
So, are you a bulb or a beauty? Only eternity will tell!

Night Songs

Dad!

The cry came in the middle of the night from the next room. Stumbling into the dark, I made my way into the hall and into her room. I find her eyes wide open in fear. Some anxiety had wrestled her awake. She needed comfort, soothing. I needed sleep.

So, what’s a dad to do? This one tried singing! “In God’s green pastures feeding, by His cool waters lie, soft in the evening walked my Lord and I. All the sheep of His pastures fair so wonderfully fine…His sheep am I. Waters cool, in the valley, rough the way, on the mountain…” I warbled on. OK…warble is a gross exaggeration. Maybe croaked is a bit closer to the truth. Let’s just say my tune bucket had a hole in it. I am part of a musical family…the part that appreciates!

So, I’m croaking away, trying to comfort my frightened child when in mid verse a little voice says, “That’s OK, Dad. You can go back to bed now!" Evidently the anxiety was preferable to my tuneful torture…or else I was just waking her up rather than soothing her back to sleep.

I’m often awake in the middle of the night—processing yesterday’s problems or planning tomorrow’s adventures—when I really need to sleep. That’s when the Heavenly Father sings the words to me from Psalm 23. I don’t tell Him to stop. I just drift off in the confidence that He will perfect that which concerns me (Ps. 138:8 KJV). After all, like with our daughter, it’s His presence, not the song that comforts me in my night.

PS 23:4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;