Why all the Hoopla? Celebrating an Eclipse

“This is the day that the Lord has made, 
we will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Psalm 118:24

Like millions of other Americans, today, August 21, 2017, I stood outside with more than a dozen of my friends and family and craned my neck to see the moon cast a perfect shadow over the sun. Over the course of hours, we moved first from a table full of themed food to the television screen showing eclipse footage from all over the United States, and then outside where we put on our special cardboard glasses to peer up into the sky for a few seconds. Then we started the cycle all over again.

We enjoyed crescent sandwiches, eclipse cookies, Sun Chips, Moon Pies, Milky Way and Starburst candy and washed it all down with Sunny D and Sunkists. We watched the teenagers laugh and run and throw water balloons at each other. And we all waited with anticipation until finally, for just a few seconds, the sky went dark in the middle of the day.

School was canceled. Some had to take off work. We rearranged our day. We bought and fixed food. Some even had to get in the car and drive. But why? Why all the hoopla? I mean, we all could have watched the eclipse with very little effort. We could have seen the darkness from the windows in our houses or offices. We could have avoided the traffic, the cost, and even the risk by simply watching it all on TV. We didn’t have to make such a big deal of it.

So, let me tell you why we did.

Life is full of everyday kind of days, the ordinary, the mundane. And, honestly, we are all very thankful for those kind of days. After all, our lives are composed of lots of plain days, and they are beautiful in their own right. But, if we take the time to look carefully, we will realize that tucked among the normal activities of our existence are amazing opportunities that God has given us to party!

Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries are a great start, but so are sunny summer days at an amusement park…and cool spring evenings spent at the ballpark…and crisp autumn afternoons painting pumpkins…and frigid winter mornings watching Netflix with your kids. Life is full of work and study and hard, but it’s also full of moments that are worth celebrating.  

Eclipse Day 2017 was one of those days. It was a day when we could look at the sun slipping into the shadow of the moon the way a prince might slip into his tuxedo. It was a day when we could look up and exclaim with the psalmist, "The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship...God has made a home in the heavens for the sun. It bursts forth like a radiant bridegroom after his wedding." (Psalm 19) It was a day to break away from the ordinary and to have fun.   

I spent today with some of the people I love most in this world. One of those was a toddler who, completely oblivious to the reason we gathered, was fully satisfied with eating goodies and taking center stage whenever our attention veered from the sun and moon show. Another was a friend who, according to doctors, is in the final stages of her life. If they are right, she won’t be with us this time next year. I spent the day with one just starting life and one whose life is coming to an end and a lot of family and friends in between.

We talked, and we laughed. We ate junk food and enjoyed every bite of it. We took pictures and compared images. We marveled at solar snakes on a white sheet and short shadows that were attached to our heels. We took note of the heaviness in the air and the drastic drop in the temperature. We swatted at the sudden increase in mosquitoes and watched as the horses ran to the barn thinking it was bedtime. We listened as frogs started croaking and dogs all over the neighborhood began barking. And then, all together, with heads thrown back, glasses in hand, eyes peeled at the darkened sky, we cheered when the bridegroom was fully dressed.

And though we may have not thought about it in the moment, I am convinced that our applause was not just for a sun hidden fully behind the shadow of the moon. Our accolades were in fact for a God who gives us life with all its darkness and light, shadows and sunshine, beginnings and ends, and it was in thankfulness for family and friends with which to celebrate it. Today was a day I will never forget, and one I will never regret.  I hope you had one too. If not, go out tomorrow and make one. Life, like the eclipse, is too short. So, why not celebrate? After all, every day is a day that the Lord has made. Let us REJOICE and be glad in it!

Why My Toes Are Sore This Morning!

“Wait patiently for the Lord. 

Be brave and courageous. 

Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.”

Psalm 17:14

The other night I decided to head to bed before the rest of my family. I shut the door to my room, turned off the light and headed toward my pillow. Unfortunately, before before I quite made it, my foot, more specifically the three smallest toes on my left foot, ran straight into the corner bedpost. Pain shot through my foot and up my leg. I clutched my foot and fell onto the bed. To say it hurt was an understatement. It felt as if my toes were being severed from my foot! I curled up into a fetal position, holding my curled up toes like they might fall off at any moment. I winced and wondered how in the world anything so small could hurt so bad.

Part of the problem was that I had walked across that dark room with total confidence. I didn’t inch my way along. I didn’t hold my hands out in front of me probing the darkness. I marched across that room in full stride knowing exactly where I was going, even though I couldn’t see a thing. So, when my toes hit the post, they weren’t creeping by, they were high stepping it. And they high stepped it right into a wooden barricade.

It reminded me of one of the Bible lessons the boys and I discussed this week about the dangers of impulsiveness.

Impulsive isn’t a word I would normally use to describe myself. I am a planner, an organizer, definitely not a risk-taker. But God has a way of using everyday experiences, even stubbed toes, to teach me important lessons that I might sometimes otherwise ignore.

Just because I am not normally impulsive does not mean that I don’t fall prey to that particular vice on occasion. How many times do I plunge headfirst into a conversation, thoughtlessly saying things that would be better left unsaid? How many times do I blindly say “yes” or “no” to a commitment without giving it appropriate thought—and prayer—to consider what would really be best for me or my family, or more importantly, what God would have me to do? How many times do I act or react without really thinking about the consequences of my actions? And how many times do I suffer as a result of my actions?

Impulsiveness is often an act of self-confidence and, dare I say it, idolatry. Just like me tramping across my dark bedroom fully aware of where I was going—even when I wasn’t—we humans like to think that we know best for ourselves, that we are in control, that we know the way. At it’s worst, when we are impulsive we are saying that we know better or at least enough so that we don’t have to seek God’s will or wants for us. We don’t have to ask for directions. We don’t need the Light. Basically, we are putting ourselves in the place of God.

But we don’t know best. We don’t know the way, and then, we pay the price. And many times that price is much more painful than a stubbed toe.

The opposite of impulsiveness is self-control, and the Bible consistently advises us to be self-controlled. Galatians 5:22-23 lists self-control as one of the fruits of the Spirit. Titus 1:8 lists it among other qualifications for an elder. And there are various other verses encouraging Christians to avoid impulsiveness in various areas of their lives, including how we speak, how we handle our anger, and how we handle sexual temptation. But perhaps one of my favorites is also one of the most simple.

Psalm 17:14 says, “Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.”

Had I simply waited for my night eyes to kick in, I would have been able to see my way across the room. It wouldn’t have taken long, maybe a few seconds. I was too impatient, too impulsive. I was tired. I wanted to go to bed. I knew the way. I didn’t give it a second thought. And I paid the price.

Let’s learn from my mistake. Life is full of obstacles, some as familiar as the floor-plan of your own bedroom. Don’t be deceived. Take a breath, talk to God, and wait patiently. Wait for His guidance. Wait for His green light. Wait for His Word. Avoid the stubbed toes, the bruised egos, the battered emotions, and the extra baggage. Avoid impulsiveness. “Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.”

x

Sisters, Secrets, and Sins

Sisters, Secrets, and Sins

(Warning: This one is a little longer than normal!)

"Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results."

James 5:16

When I was in elementary school, my little sister, Marsha, and I would walk to the bus stop together. It wasn't far from our house, down the front yard in our hill, and across our neighbor's yard to a side street.  Marsha is four years younger than me; so, as the older sibling, I was, of course, in charge. One chilly morning, as we waited for the bus, I noticed that Marsha had brought a poster with her. I asked what it was, and she showed me. It was her project, which she had completed all by herself. She was so proud. But I was horrified. It looked, well, it looked like something a very young child would do, all by herself. It had spelling errors. The lines were written crookedly, and it wasn't very neat. As the daughter of a perfectionist and somewhat a perfectionist myself, I just knew that Marsha should not turn in that poster. And I knew that it was my responsibility to take it away from her. So, Marsha and I began to argue. I reached out to grab the poster as Marsha ran from me in a circle on the slick asphalt, and she fell. Marsha hit her head, and it began to bleed. I started to walk her back to the house, but then the bus came; so I did what any responsible young girl would do. I sent Marsha back to the house alone so that I wouldn't miss the bus. 

Now, there are a few things you need to know before I proceed. First of all, our grandmother was at the house; so there was an adult waiting for Marsha when she got there. Second, Marsha proclaimed (and still proclaims) that I pushed her. Third, I have no idea whatever happened to that stupid poster. Fourth, this is still a source of comical disagreement between us. Marsha maintains that she was pushed. I (with the better memory of course) contend that she fell. 

Who is right? In the end, I don't think it really matters because, as bad as I hate to admit it, I was wrong. I may have not pushed Marsha, but I was responsible for her fall. I was responsible for her injury. And I was the one who abandoned her in her time of need. In all the years of arguing (even jokingly) about that incident, I am not sure that I ever admitted that simple fact. So, Marsha, here you go. I'm sorry that I degraded something you had worked hard to complete. I'm sorry that I caused you to fall and hurt yourself, and I'm sorry that I abandoned you in your time of need. 

Why has it taken me so many years to apologize? Why is it so hard to admit something so profoundly simple? Why is it so hard for us to acknowledge our own sin? It's not a secret, you know. We are all sinners. We all make mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes are truly accidental, but sometimes we mess up intentionally. We do things that we know (if we take time to think about it) will hurt others or even ourselves. Yet we try to act as if we don't. 

Oh, don't get me wrong. I know that most of us will readily say that we aren't perfect. We will readily give lip service to our own sinful nature. But seriously, when push comes to shove (no pun intended), we really don't like to admit our own failures. It's much easier to keep our sins a secret.  After all, who wants to air their dirty laundry, right? 

Now, I'm not an advocate of public (i.e. social media) confessions, but you might be surprised to know that there is a time and a place to confess our sins...not only to God but also to one another. Why? Why in the world would anyone willingly do that?  

James 5:16 tells us.  "Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results." 

Prior to this James does speak of physical healing, but he also speaks of the forgiveness of sin. So, I believe that when he says "pray for each other that you may be healed" he isn't just talking about healing from physical ailments. I believe he is also referring to the healing that must come after sin, the restoration with God and with our fellow man, the peace in our soul that comes from forgiveness, and sometimes even very practical help and healing that comes when we are picking up the pieces of broken lives. So, when we confess our sins to one another, when we share our faults and failures, our trials and our temptations, we are not only opening ourselves up to healing, but we are also giving the Lord opportunity to use us in the lives of other people. 

One of my favorite quotes is from Emily Colson, who wrote Dancing with Max, her true story of life as a single mother with an autistic son. In it she writes this "...perfect isn't approachable. It isn't even likable. A friend once told me that he wasn't comfortable talking to me when he thought my life looked perfect because his life was filled with cracks and flaws."  

Often I think that I have to appear perfect, in control, shall I dare to say sinless, in order to be a good witness for Christ. I mean, seriously, who would believe anything I had to say about Jesus if they knew the ins and outs of my life? What if they knew my deepest darkest secrets, the things I have done or thought that no one else (but God) knows about me? How many times have I thought those very things. How many times have I said,

I can’t write. There is nothing I have to say that anyone would want to read.

I can’t host that Bible study. It’s hypocritical to invite people to my home to study God’s word when last night all hell was breaking loose in my family.

I can’t be a mentor to those girls. I was a depressed teenager. I never fit in. I still consider myself a social outcast.

I can’t because I have messed up.

I can’t because I am not perfect.

I can’t because I am not in control.

I can’t…

It’s a lie from Satan. And it’s a lie that I think many of us fall prey to every single day. How many times in the last few years have I discovered that a couple I knew have divorced, and I never even realized they were struggling? In the last week alone, several “secrets” have come out regarding people I know, and I am heartbroken. Of course, I am heartbroken over the sins that have been revealed, but I am also devastated that people I care about deeply have and are facing terrible battles alone, that I haven’t been there to comfort them, help them, encourage them, or even pray for or with them. It truly makes my soul ache.

But then, I think, how many times have I done the very same thing?

No, we can’t and shouldn’t share everything with everyone. And I understand that sometimes situations involve other people and can’t be shared without their permission. But the truth is, we often share nothing with no one for no reason except our own pride. We would rather suffer through this life alone, afraid, struggling, battling all by ourselves than to admit our own failures, to confess our own sins, or to acknowledge the difficult and often embarrassing circumstances of our lives. I am just as guilty as anyone—if not more so.

It’s a ploy of the devil to keep us isolated. Not only are we robbing ourselves of valuable comfort, help, encouragement and accountability, but we are also robbing others of our testimonies. Just like Emily Colton’s friend said, no matter what we think, no one really wants to be around someone who appears perfect.

Galatians 6:2 says, “Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.”

It takes vulnerability. It takes a certain amount of risk, but in the end it’s what we need to do. You can’t share a burden you don’t know about, and neither can I.

We all know we aren’t perfect. So, let’s stop pretending. Let’s admit our own sinfulness, first to God, and then to each other. Let’s take responsibility for our mistakes, but let’s also use those mistakes to help others. Let’s help people know that Christ isn’t waiting for us to get it all together before we come to Him. He’s waiting for us to come to Him just as we are so He can help us get it all together.  And let’s remember that very often He uses people, just like you and me, to do just that.