I was just praying this morning about my family. Thinking about how I only have a few summers left with Tim, maybe six with Adam and maybe seven with Allison. It's really not much time...and yet God doesn't need a whole lot of time to effect change and make an impact.
That thought took me back to my own childhood and the time I spent with my grandma, who had the biggest positive spiritual impact on me as a child. As I thought about what she did that drew my heart to God, I was a little surprised.
She taught kindergarten sunday school, and I went to her class (flannel-graphs and all) whenever I went to her church, but I don't remember ever doing any formal Bible study with her or receiving spiritual instruction from her. She didn't make sure I memorized verses and she didn't find a video for every issue that came up (eg, one on respect when I was disrespectful)...like I might tend to do occasionally.
Nothing wrong with those things, but it wasn't her approach. Jesus reached my heart through my grandma as she lived a life of love for Jesus in my presence. Although I don't remember her ever requiring it of me, each morning she would have her "Morning Devotions", and then through the day she would tell me when something she read applied to something we were experiencing in our day. Or she would tell me what she had talked to Jesus about. She talked about her love for Jesus, and I saw her love for Him as He was constantly on her mind and bringing joy to her face.
I remember making pudding (it was my job to either make pudding or jello for dessert while she made dinner) as she talked about Romans 10.13 being her favorite verse. She would say, "'Whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.' I just love that verse. That's the verse I hang my hat on." ...she never wore a hat though...I guess it was hanging on that verse.
I think this is where I got my foundational ideas on discipleship. She invited me along as she lived her life in love with Jesus. It's not in a discipleship "class", 'though classes can be good. Discipleship that I learned from my grandma was her inviting me to come alongside her as she nurtured and cared for me, as I observed and she shared her deep love for Jesus, as she included me in ways she served others with a meal, a home visit, babysitting, delivering Avon orders, etc. Or sometimes she would just love me by taking me shopping, or getting a cozy, warm bubble bath ready for me, or painting my toe nails or putting "granny" make-up on my face.
I fell in love with her Jesus as she deeply loved Him and lovingly enjoyed me. I'm hoping for my own kids to experience that same.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Unidentified Baggage
She was well-dressed and well-groomed, ‘though I probably wouldn’t have noticed. She walked with a notable confidence, not entirely common of women exiting a waiting room bathroom.
I was engrossed in a book, my head lowered toward the pages, when my eyes glimpsed the bright white train flowing so freely from her heal as she passed in front of me. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so noticeable had it not been for the rather dark colored décor and adequate lighting of the orthodontist’s office.
Only one other person was in the room—a man obviously aware of the sight. I could tell he was aware because of his sudden stillness. He sat uncomfortably motionless as only his eyes inconspicuously followed the train. Then it happened. The train broke loose and sat in a bundle directly in front of him.
The woman disappeared and will likely never know her impact on her world, nor will she ever recognize the baggage she once dragged behind. But we’ll get to that thought in a bit.
The man in the room continued to sit quite uncomfortably. I was uncomfortable. There was tension in the room, but neither of us was willing to acknowledge the toilet paper…or each other for that matter. It was a bit more comfortable to pretend we knew nothing about the toilet paper.
Several people walked through the room, stepping around or over it. Eventually, a woman gracefully passed by, picked it up and threw it away. Amazingly, all the tension immediately left the room.
There are times when someone crosses our path with baggage so blatant that it makes everyone uncomfortable, except the person himself who is oblivious to it, but reacts to everyone with his, “What’s wrong with you?” attitude. I’m thinking of one man who has serious anger issues. He will behave with rude impatience with nearly every interaction and then respond to the stares around him with, “What’s your problem!?” He’s blind and clueless with no hope for change until he’s able to see his own toilet paper train.
Some toilet paper trains get left in the room leaving its witnesses uncomfortable…and sometimes wounded. People can leave a profound impact and never even realize the train they dragged behind.
As I continued to sit in the waiting room, writing these notes, a mom came in with her daughter. They sat down, but within a couple minutes, the daughter got up to get a magazine. Immediately, the mom said to her daughter, “Come here! You have a Band-Aid stuck on you.” The daughter, looking horrified, squealed, “Ew!!” and quickly pealed it off the leg of her pants.
When we’re able to see our baggage—our own toilet paper trains dragging behind us, or at least the impact our baggage has, then we’re finally able to address it and let God remove it from us.
I was engrossed in a book, my head lowered toward the pages, when my eyes glimpsed the bright white train flowing so freely from her heal as she passed in front of me. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so noticeable had it not been for the rather dark colored décor and adequate lighting of the orthodontist’s office.
Only one other person was in the room—a man obviously aware of the sight. I could tell he was aware because of his sudden stillness. He sat uncomfortably motionless as only his eyes inconspicuously followed the train. Then it happened. The train broke loose and sat in a bundle directly in front of him.
The woman disappeared and will likely never know her impact on her world, nor will she ever recognize the baggage she once dragged behind. But we’ll get to that thought in a bit.
The man in the room continued to sit quite uncomfortably. I was uncomfortable. There was tension in the room, but neither of us was willing to acknowledge the toilet paper…or each other for that matter. It was a bit more comfortable to pretend we knew nothing about the toilet paper.
Several people walked through the room, stepping around or over it. Eventually, a woman gracefully passed by, picked it up and threw it away. Amazingly, all the tension immediately left the room.
There are times when someone crosses our path with baggage so blatant that it makes everyone uncomfortable, except the person himself who is oblivious to it, but reacts to everyone with his, “What’s wrong with you?” attitude. I’m thinking of one man who has serious anger issues. He will behave with rude impatience with nearly every interaction and then respond to the stares around him with, “What’s your problem!?” He’s blind and clueless with no hope for change until he’s able to see his own toilet paper train.
Some toilet paper trains get left in the room leaving its witnesses uncomfortable…and sometimes wounded. People can leave a profound impact and never even realize the train they dragged behind.
As I continued to sit in the waiting room, writing these notes, a mom came in with her daughter. They sat down, but within a couple minutes, the daughter got up to get a magazine. Immediately, the mom said to her daughter, “Come here! You have a Band-Aid stuck on you.” The daughter, looking horrified, squealed, “Ew!!” and quickly pealed it off the leg of her pants.
When we’re able to see our baggage—our own toilet paper trains dragging behind us, or at least the impact our baggage has, then we’re finally able to address it and let God remove it from us.
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