Head and Heart

Five

2012-02-01T21:07:00.000-05:00

Blogger (on left) at five

Dear Blog,

Please forgive me for forgetting your fifth birthday last week. Five is important--all the fingers on one hand; in the olden days of my childhood, the beginning of school; learning how to read and ride a bike; naturally blonde hair achieved without treatment (see picture on the right); and super cool matching outfits with younger brothers.

And so it's nearly unforgivable that I missed your special day. You've seen me through so much--raising teenagers to nearly adults (but not there yet), dating, getting married, a new job, a new home. And you've given me a platform for important issues such as bad hymns, leggings, the difficulty of buying wedding stamps, blizzards, and other important issues affecting our world today.

Anyway, it has been a good five years, an eventful five years. And if I don't take you out nearly so often as I once did, it's because I value you too much to waste just any thoughts on you--not that I used to waste thoughts on you. And you and I both know that's a bunch of silliness. The truth is, five years ago I spent most evenings alone and decided you were a better use of my time than watching American Idol or Lost. And now that I'm married, I've found an even better companion than you. And yet I still do love you.

So happy fifth birthday, blog. Here's to many more!

His Own Gifts in Us

2012-02-01T20:36:00.000-05:00

I can play the piano moderately well (I was much better back in high school and college when I was practicing a couple of hours every day). I am a good singer. I have been given a mind that likes to grapple with difficult concepts and ideas and master them--and then I am able to communicate those concepts to others, whether the others are in a kindergarten Sunday school class, a junior high grammar class, a high school literature class, or an adult women's Bible study.

But I don't have a lot of wealth. I'm not good at any kind of crafts or arts like sewing, knitting, crocheting, or even photo books. I'm not one of those warm people that others run to when they need to pour out their souls' sadness, when they're looking for comfort or sympathy. And I'm not very good at connecting with people on a deeper level. It takes me a long time to get to know another person, to open my heart to someone else and be able to share a deeper bond. These are all abilities and gifts that I don't have, but others do.

Google "spiritual gifts test," and you'll find plenty of options for figuring out what yours is and isn't. One of the great issues in the church is the matter of gifts: what mine is, how I can use it, if I truly have a gift in a particular area. Some people suffer great anxiety because their gifts just don't seem to be readily apparent, and they wonder if perhaps God forgot to give them one. Sometimes gifts can cause real problems in the church, like when someone feels like he or she is more important than others because of a particular gift he or she has. I've seen other cases where people think they have a particular gift--for music, teaching, leadership of some sort--but they really don't, so the rest of the body suffers while that person inflicts the body with his or her "gift," because no one else has the courage to lovingly tell that person that he or she really should be rethinking what gift God has blessed him or her with.

My first husband was diagnosed with acute leukemia when he was 34 years old. He endured a series of horrific chemotherapy treatments, extended hospitalizations, a bone marrow transplant, and the knowledge from December 1995 to April 1996 that doctors had nothing left with which to treat him, that it was a matter of time until he would lose this battle of leukemia and die. As a young husband and father, Jon suffered physical and emotional pain, but he suffered them as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. I will never forget the day that a minister friend of ours encouraged us by telling us that our suffering was a gift to the church. I wonder how often the gift of suffering is the bottom line on a spiritual gifts test. And yet who of us hasn't been blessed by watching a godly Christian suffer well.

Which brings me to the thought I had today regarding gifts, and how it is that we often fail to think of them properly. We wish we had a different gift, we covet the gift that another person has, we underestimate or fail to develop the gifts we have, we withhold our gifts, we overestimate our abilities in certain areas, we fail to realize that something we're experiencing in our lives, like suffering, is, in fact, a gift. I'm currently editing a book of historic Reformed confessions, and an article in a seventeenth century Polish confession addressed the matter of gifts in the church. The confession makes the statement that the good things that we do are God's own gifts in us.We ought never to boast of anything because nothing is our own. As Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 4:7, we have nothing that we have not received.

And so if we have wealth, musical talent, leadership skills, organizational skills, teaching ability, even suffering--we ought not think of them as anything we've generated, as something that belongs to us that we take great pride in, although it is important that we nurture and develop God's gifts in us. These gifts aren't ours. If I can sing, that's God's gift in me, so there is nothing to boast about. I didn't generate that gift. And if we know someone who has been blessed with financial resources and great wealth, and we wish that were us, we're coveting God's gift in that person. We ought not resent others for the gifts they have, and we should have an attitude of thankfulness when they use those gifts to encourage the church. Understanding that whatever we have is God's gift in us takes away the anxiety of discovering it; God will reveal that gift as we serve him faithfully in the church. And we must not think of a gift as belonging to us, but rather as God's gift in us, given not to us, but to his church, for his own glory.

You are invited . . .

2012-01-18T22:08:00.002-05:00

1st Annual Conference on How to Be Friendly at Church

Do you find yourself talking to the same people every week at church? Are there people on the other side of the fellowship hall that you see every week, but you don't know their names? Do you avoid making eye contact with strangers so you don't have to greet them? Do you often tell yourself that friendliness is not your spiritual gift, this is just how you are, and you can't be expected to greet people at church? Register for the first annual conference on how to be friendly at church, location to be determined, but probably not at your local conservative Reformed church. Join us in the following sessions:

1. You Are Your Brother's Keeper: In this session you will learn that you are responsible for other members of the church body, even if they are older/younger than you; their children attend a different school from yours (or are or are not homeschooled); their marital status is different from yours; they are not blood relatives; they did not attend high school and/or college with you; they have an ethnic background different from yours. Our speaker will remind you that, yes, you need to be friends with and show an interest in everybody in the church, not just the people you feel most comfortable with.

2. Will the Circle Be Unbroken? Our expert will say, "I hope not!" She will remind you that the circle needs to be broken to allow others in. She will cover topics like how to watch for people who are standing in a corner by themselves; how to welcome them into the circle and make them feel wanted there; how to choose conversation topics that will be of interest to people who weren't at the get-together at your house last night; and how to change that circle into an ellipse so you can actually get more people in.

3. Strangers in the Night (or in the Morning Service Too): Learn how to watch for visitors to your church and make sure that even if no one else greets them, you will. Participants will set goals to become the fastest, most determined, genuinely most concerned and compassionate member in reaching out to newcomers. You will learn skills like showing new parents where the nursery and bathrooms are, inviting guests who are alone to sit with you, and helping those who are unchurched with Bibles and Psalter Hymnals.

4. Into the Woods: Attendees visiting this session must have a signed note from a physician indicating they are in good health. This rigorous two-hour experience will take you into uncharted territory, where you will learn how to talk to and fellowship with people with whom you have never spoken. In fact, during the session you will be placed in a situation where you must communicate with a person who has only the bonds of Christ in common with you. For example, if you are a young mom, you may be placed with an elderly widow. A teen who attends may be placed with an elderly man. A homeschooling parent may have to communicate with a parent whose child attends Christian school. If you are married, you'll be talking to a single. This session is not for the faint of heart, and we recommend that you complete session # 1 before attending this one.

5. Hospitality 101: Again, this session is for those eager for a challenge. Learn how to invite people other than your best friends and family into your home for dinner or dessert. Increase your sensitivity levels so that you learn to determine which members of the church could benefit from a meal, a greeting card, or an encouraging phone call. Learn how social interaction outside of church can build stronger ties in the church.

Please make your reservation as soon as possible, but because this topic is not of great interest to very many, we expect that there will be plenty of room. There is no charge for attending. Bring your best friend, your cousin, the person who was your friend in the last church you were a member of--you know, one of the four to five people you always talk to at church.

The Souls of Women

2012-01-13T09:27:00.000-05:00

I'm currently editing a book of historic Reformed confessions, and this comes from an eastern Hungarian confession from 1567:

First,women have souls, for these reasons: First, because they originated from anintelligent human being, they are people; therefore, they have souls (Gen. 2; 1Cor. 6–7).
            Second,the elect and justified believe, are converted, and will be raised; whoever hasa soul like the wise virgins believes, is converted and justified, will be raisedand go into eternal life. Therefore, women have souls.
            Third,a woman gave birth to Christ, and women give birth to sensate humans with soulsand bodies. Of whatever kind of being the son, race, or seed, such is its sonor fruit. If the sons are sensate beings, so too is the mother who bore them (1Cor. 6; 15; Luke 1; Phil. 3; Gal. 4–5; 1 Tim. 2).
            Fourth,Mary the mother of Jesus and other holy women sing: “My sensate spirit exaltsthe Lord: and my new and life-giving spirit rejoices in my redeeming God” (cf. Luke1:46; Ex. 15). Therefore, they have sensate and new souls.
            Fifth,Christ restored to life the daughter of the chief priest and master of theJews’ assembly and said that the girl’s soul had returned when He did so (Luke8:55).

While I'm not a feminist by any means, I do have to say that we've come a long way, ladies. Phew!

Unpacking Forgiveness: A Book Review

2012-01-12T21:44:00.000-05:00

If you live in this world, it's a given that at some point, you will offend someone else. The other reality that is much more obvious to us is that if we live in this world, someone else will offend us. Recent events around me have reminded me just how critical it is that we continue to grapple with this great challenge of repentance when we have offended and forgiveness when we have been offended. I'm an observer of one whose life is crumbling around her because she will not forgive wrongs--real and perceived--that have been committed against her in the past. And I'm watching as a church self-destructs because its members have so little understanding of these two most important things. Jesus teaches us to pray, "Forgive us our debts, as we have forgiven our debtors," and the health of our Christian lives certainly depends on our genuineness as we pray this and implement it in our lives.

So if there is anyone out there who is still looking for a New Year's resolution, I have a suggestion, and it's a relatively easy one to accomplish: read Unpacking Forgiveness: Biblical Answers for Complex Questions and Deep Wounds by Chris Brauns. I used to work in a Christian bookstore, and I can tell you from experience that there is no shortage of books by Christians on this subject. But Brauns sets his book apart from others early on when he points out the truth that our definition of forgiveness must be based on how God defines it: "The first thing to do in developing an understanding of how we should forgive one another is to understand how God forgives us. This simplifies defining forgiveness because the Bible says far more about how God forgives people than it does about how people should forgive people."

Brauns describes the characteristics of God's forgiveness: it is gracious but not free; it is conditional, in that only those who repent and believe are saved; it is a commitment by God to those he forgives; it lays the groundwork for and begins the process of reconciliation; it does not mean the elimination of all consequences. The rest of the book "unpacks" this definition as Brauns writes with pastoral empathy, great clarity, winsomeness, and, at times, with humor. He contrasts his own understanding of forgiveness with the idea of therapeutic forgiveness, a concept introduced by author Lewis Smedes. For Smedes, forgiveness means letting go of anger and bitterness over a real or perceived offense. Brauns points out the flaws in this view that is widely held by many Christians.

One of the points Brauns drives home that made an impression with me is the urgency of reconciling with those who have offended us. He spends several chapters explaining Matthew 18, a key chapter that addresses how Christians should be reconciled when a relationship has been broken. He gives the example of two women who have been friends for years. One becomes angry at the other when she learns she has been talking about her behind her back. The one who has been offended approaches the other, who refuses to apologize. The offended friend then takes her case to an elder in her church, who counsels her to just let it go. The author then asks readers what the offended friend should do and gives these options: go to her house and hug her; write a loving note but give her friend some space; keep her distance and not communicate at all; or other.

After setting this scenario, though, Brauns continues with the anecdote. The offended friend learns that the only daughter of the friend who has offended has been tragically killed in a car accident. Brauns asks readers what the offended friend should do, giving the previous options. He explains that most people answer that she should go to her sorrowing friend and hug her, without delay. He concludes:

"The point from Matthew 18 is that [the offended friend] should have had that same level of urgency before the tragedy. . . . She should have gone to [her friend] and hugged her in the first place. Christians should urgently pursue conflict resolution all the time."

Brauns also provides practical wisdom on matters such as what to do when someone is unrepentant, how to combat bitterness, how to stop thinking about a hurtful situation, and what to do when we just can't agree.

Unpacking Forgiveness is available at many booksellers, but my favorite one is right here.

What Christmas Is All About

2011-12-19T22:52:00.000-05:00

In It's a Wonderful Life, George Bailey learns that Christmas is about giving and receiving and relationships. "No man is a failure who has friends," Clarence the angel reminds George, who has just had the opportunity, on Christmas Eve, to see what the world would be like if he had never been born.

The experiences of Ebenezer Scrooge show us that Christmas is about being kind and generous and embracing relationships. Once a miserable, stingy, hate-filled old man, Scrooge learns to keep Christmas as well as anyone living.

For Ralphie, Christmas is mostly about getting a Red Ryder BB gun, and a little bit about spending some time with family making memories.

The Grinch's heart grows three sizes when he realizes after he has stolen all of Whoville's presents, decorations, and Who-ham that Christmas comes anyway. Christmas is far more than Christmas presents.

The stories of Christmas tell us that the holiday is about being a little nicer, feeling a little warmer, being more inclined to perform acts of generosity and kindness to our fellow human beings. And doing all of these things gives us that--well, you know--that feeling of Christmas, children laughing, people passing, meeting smile after smile while hearing silver bells ringing on every corner.

As much as I love the stories of Christmas, though, most of them get it wrong. Most of them communicate that Christmas is about something we do, something we get, something we make, or something we buy. But how empty a Christmas created by us leaves us! The decorations come down. The presents break, get old, don't fit, get returned. The little love we've put in our hearts for our fellow man drowns in January's slush. We find ourselves asking Charlie Brown's question: "I guess I don’t really know what Christmas is about. Isn’t there anyone who understands what Christmas is all about?"

And Linus gives Charlie Brown the best answer:

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, ‘fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you. Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in the manger.’ And suddenly, there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, good will toward men.’”

For George Bailey, that old building and loan will continue to struggle to survive, Uncle Billy will continue to drink too much, and chances are good that George will never get to go to college or travel around the world. Scrooge will find that despite his best efforts at good will toward his fellow man, he will continue to be frustrated with fellow humans who are irresponsible, tardy, and, in his opinion, spendthrifts. Ralphie will outgrow his BB gun and want something bigger, more expensive, and, most likely, well beyond his grasp. And the Grinch will find that a heart that grows is not necessarily a heart that has been changed and will continue to battle the demons of jealousy and bitterness despite the warm feelings he experienced in Whoville that Christmas day.

But Linus's Christmas story give us hope because it isn't about us. It isn't a story of our becoming stronger and improved as we come to a better understanding of who we are and what we have; it is about God taking the form of a baby, becoming smaller and weaker than those He would save. It isn't about obtaining the very things of this earth that our hearts most desire; it is about God giving up the glories of heaven and living a life of poverty to rescue us from hell. It isn't about how we generate peace and good will from inside ourselves as we reach out to others, donate to our favorite charities, or lend a helping hand. It is about the peace and good will that God offers to us as He sends His Son to die so that we can be reconciled to Him. It isn't about a season; Christmas is a reality that will carry us through the disappointments and tragedies of life, whether they happen in February, May, or October. It is about a happy ending that continues beyond the happy ending, whose next chapter does not disappoint.

Come, thou long expected Jesus,
born to set thy people free;
from our fears and sins release us,
let us find our rest in thee.
Israel's strength and consolation,
hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.

Born thy people to deliver,
born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever,
now thy gracious kingdom bring.
By thine own eternal spirit
rule in all our hearts alone;
by thine all sufficient merit,
raise us to thy glorious throne.

~Charles Wesley

Happy Birthday in Heaven

2011-12-06T19:58:00.001-05:00

Kristi Lynn Walborn
December 6, 1969 - January 16, 1990

Annette and Kristi
August 6, 1983

Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart--oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape--of your sister.

~Katherine Mansfield

Happy birthday in heaven, my funny, messy, noisy, beautiful, smart, stubborn, little-bit-naughty but sweet sister. See you soon!

The Sick Body

2011-12-01T21:28:00.001-05:00

For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, "Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, "Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body," that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body (1 Corinthians 12:12).

When the church is happy, healthy, and at peace, it's easy to forget that we are a body--that we're organically connected and placed, by Christ, in a bond that ought not be broken. The hand, eye, ear, nose are all well, and at times like that, we're glad, if we're an ear, that the hand is okay, but we don't need to pay much attention to the hand, so we don't.

But when the church is divided in the ugliness of sin, when that bond is stretched so thin that it very nearly breaks, it might be the hand that is broken, but we, the ear, feel that pain, as do the nose, the eyes, and all of the rest of the body parts too. We're organically connected and have been placed in that bond by Christ, so pain in one part of the body affects us all. Some of the greatest hurts of this life are feeling betrayed, being deceived, watching people whose godliness we've admired and respected disappoint us with their arrogance, anger, and refusal to admit wrongdoing. It is during these times that we are reminded of our catechism that teaches us that we are inclined, by our nature, to hate God and our neighbor.

But even in this darkness are lessons to be learned. Especially in the darkness can be growth. And these are the lessons that we learn.

1. In a conflict or disagreement, usually there isn't one person or group who is completely wrong and one group that is completely right. While sickness in the body usually starts when one person offends another, it's very easy for the offended party to fall into the trap of sinning right back--whether by being angry, gossiping, or desiring revenge. We must not take sides and deepen the divide. We must do what is right, and encourage all others to do the same, in word and deed.

2. We need to remain humble at all times. It's easy to look at a person who has fallen into sin and think, "That could never be me." I would imagine that the person that we're looking at has probably had that same thought at some time. If conflict is ever to be resolved, if ever there is to be peace, it must start with us in our interactions with one another. And we must be willing to see our own failings and confess them.

3. People who fall into sin and refuse to acknowledge that sin tend to just keep on sinning more to cover up the sins that they have committed. As people fall into this trap, I think, "Wouldn't it just be easier to say you're sorry and get on with things? It has to be much harder to keep on plotting and scheming than it would be just to repent." If we know we have done wrong, our best course of action is to repent, and not to try to justify and scheme our way out of a difficult situation. It is the surest way to gain the respect and support of our brothers and sisters.

4. A quote from a forthcoming excellent book on Christ's parables by Dr. Bilkes of Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary that I've been editing: "Christ's will is that His church be a place of humility and service. It should also be a place where there is joy when straying disciples return (see Matt. 18:13). And if one brother sins against another brother, there should be reconciliation through truth and repentance." The body will never heal unless we remember that our goal must be, ultimately, "reconciliation through truth and repentance"--not just proving someone else wrong, not proving we are right, and certainly not driving the offending parties from us without resolving the problems.

5. We must never lose sight that the people in the body--even the ones with whom we may disagree--are brothers and sisters in Christ. He has placed them in His church and has shown them mercy and love. How can we do any less?

6. When someone offers up repentance, we must accept it and close the book on the matter. We should not second-guess motives or genuineness. Mercy and grace must be our operating principles.

7. Gossip is not only wrong if what we are saying is untrue. We can say something true and still be guilty of gossip if our words are intended to make someone else look bad. Saying less in situations like these is more.

8. Finally, again from Dr. Bikes: "How often have we metaphorically stood with our hands around an offending brother or sister's 'neck' while ignoring our own sin before God, which is infinitely worse? In order to loosen our grip on the 'throats' of others and grant this kingdom forgiveness easily and quickly, we should often think of our great debt before God."

Our God is great and wise, and the one who can bring life from death can certainly bring about growth even in the darkness, even when the body is sick. Learning the lessons of the darkness will bring us back into the light of health and peace and will make the body stronger.

What lessons have you learned in the darkness?

Book Review: Growing up Amish

2011-11-17T20:27:00.001-05:00

If you're a fan of Amish fiction, you probably don't want to read this book--but you should. The problem is that you might not want to read Amish fiction again.The picture of Amish life as a series of neighborhood barn raisings, quilting bees, cute little barefoot girls wearing bonnets and crisp aprons chasing kittens past the clothesline strung with with black pants with no zippers, home cookin' style meals with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, freshly baked bread spread with homemade jam, and green beans fresh from the garden is not what you will find in Ira Wagler's memoir of what life was like "growing up Amish." Instead, the author provides an honest, but definitely not bitter, account of what it was like to be Amish and why he could not remain a member of the Amish church and live in the community in which he had been raised.

Wagler was born in the Old Order Amish community of Aylmer, Ontario, the ninth in a family of eleven children. In the first part of the book Wagler writes about Amish life and culture, and it's fascinating to read from an "insider" what exactly that is like. He describes family life, church services, and school. Most poignant is his account of the bullying of Nicholas Herrfort, a child from "that unusual, or odd family" that exists in all of our communities. With great beauty and sadness, Wagler writes of the tragedy of Nicholas, and we all hang our heads in shame because even though we may not have grown up Amish, we've been human children who have at the least stood by silently while some other poor child was tortured.

After two of Wagler's brothers and one sister leave the Amish, his father moves the family to Bloomfield, Iowa, hoping that he would be able to keep his remaining sons Amish in a new place. It was here that Wagler spent his rebellious "Rumspringa" teen years, running around with a group of five other boys, hunting, staying out late, drinking beer and smoking, and telling off-color jokes. But typical teen rebellion turned to something much more serious when, at seventeen, Wagler left home for the first time:

"One fateful, starless, April night, I got up at 2:00 a.m. in the pitch black darkness, left a scribbled note under my pillow, and walked away--all my earthly belongings stuffed in a little black duffel bag."

The rest of Wagler's memoir describes a cycle of returns and departures. He leaves his family, feels empty, attempts to fill the emptiness by returning to what is familiar (family and church), feels empty, and in an attempt to fill the emptiness, leaves again. Wagler's story continues to fascinate, as he recounts a family member's tragic accident, his own attempts to settle into the Amish community by getting married and joining the church, and his ultimate decision to leave the Amish church for good.

While many perceive the Amish to be a people whose withdrawal from modern life makes them closer to God, people who experience a rich spiritual life, Wagler's experience tells a different story. A faith that is based on law-keeping leaves its adherents feeling empty, distant from God and from each other. Ironically, Wagler first hears the gospel from an Amish man who did not grow up in the Amish faith, and he experiences true conversion:

"For the first time, I truly grasped that Christ had died for me--suffered, bled, and died--and that I could be his through faith. I was amazed at how simple it really was. Why had it always seemed so hard, so impossible before?... He who gives life to the lifeless gave life to me."

The jacket copy of this book describes it as a charming, poignant, coming-of-age story, and yet it is so much deeper than that. You will laugh, cry, and be moved--Wagler is a gifted writer. But his story points out the futility of a faith that attempts to win God's favor by obedience to men's laws, and the joy of the salvation that comes from faith in Christ alone.

Jonathan Is 18

2011-11-03T21:25:00.000-04:00

It used to be Thomas the Tank Engine, Spot the Dog, a blankie made from Mommy's old sleep shirt, and playing in the ball pit at Chuck E Cheese and eating the pizza. Favorite book: The Little Engine That Could.

Now it's playing basketball, watching the Red Wings and Tigers, studying Physics and Pre-Calc, visiting colleges, and watching the zillion screens filled with sports at Peppino's--and eating the pizza. Favorite book: the Bible (good ~~boy~~ young man!).

Jonathan is 18! Happy birthday my almost grown-up son!

The Most Important Thing

2011-10-20T21:59:00.000-04:00

In a day when many face, at the least, financial insecurity, and, at most, financial ruin; when many are scraping the bottom of their life savings to pay the electric bill and wonder what will happen in January after there are no more unemployment checks arriving and there's no job in sight; when thousands are occupying cities all over the world to protest the things they don't have, Jesus teaches us in the gospel of John what is most important. So many of the people he encountered felt like the people today: "If only I had this or that or the other thing, life would be good. I could truly live."

And so when the wine at the wedding party runs out, Jesus' mother comes to him with the crisis, and he provides high quality wine in abundance. Problem solved, party saved. Except that the party wine will eventually run out, and the wedding guests probably don't realize that the true source of joy and gladness that will never run out was among them as a guest.

A woman carries her water jar to the town well in the heat of the day. She dreads this daily chore. It's hard work carrying the heavy water jar back home, and her difficulty is increased because she carries out the chore when the sun is the hottest so she can avoid the scathing glares, the whispers of the other women of the town. So when the man at the well offers her his water, the water that will make her never thirst again, she wants it. Problem solved. She will never have to come to the dreaded well to draw water again.

A man sick for thirty-eight years laid by the pool of Bethesda. If he could only get into the pool when an angel stirred the water, he would be well, and his problems would be solved. So when a stranger approaches him and tells him to take up his bed and walk, he does. Problem solved. Except the stranger's question--"Do you want to be well?"--is about something much deeper, much more necessary than the ability to walk.

And there are the five thousand on the hillside, following Jesus around because of the things they see he can do. He looks like someone who could save them from their rulers, the Romans. But their need is much more basic at the moment. They're hungry, and there is no place to get food close by. He provides all five thousand of them, and their wives and children, with what they think is most important--bread--so much that there are twelve baskets left over. Problem solved. He reminds, them, though, that their fathers in the wilderness were also given bread, and they died. Only he is the bread of life, the bread that will stop all hungering and provide true life.

It's not that we don't need water or bread or wine or physical health. All of these things are important--for now. And paychecks, electricity, and affordable college tuition are all important too. But they aren't the most important things. We can have all of those things in quantities greater than we could ever need, and we'll still die, having never truly lived. No, our true needs are truly satisfied when we realize, like Simon Peter, the source of our life, the most important thing: "Lord, to whom [or what] shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God." Problem solved.

Something to Think About

2011-09-19T22:07:00.000-04:00

I've done it. You've done it too. We've all done it: Just don't tell anyone else . . .

Life, Learning, and a Letter

2011-09-19T21:41:00.000-04:00

Back in 1983, a group of young men--some still college students and some recent graduates--wanted to pay tribute to a teacher who had profoundly impacted their lives. They knew him then as Mr. Grier, and he was the stuff of academic legend for these students who were discovering what it was to think truly, deeply, and Christianly. Mr. Grier himself had studied at Westminster Philadelphia with Van Til, and now he passed on to these young men what he had learned about how to take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ in the discipline of philosophy. But after many years of teaching at Cedarville College, Mr. Grier accepted a position at Grand Rapids Theological Seminary, and his students were grieved to see him go.

How could these young men thank a professor who had helped them to understand what it was to think biblically in ways they had never understood before? They thanked Mr. Grier in the way any teacher can best be thanked--by offering up a magnum opus of thought that pulled together everything they had learned about their academic specialties and wrote a volume titled Essays on the Christian World View. They dedicated it to "James M. Grier, professor and friend." They wrote about heady subjects like epistemology, apologetics, anthropology, exegesis, economics, history, politics, and science. It was quite an accomplishment for a group of young men who were busy with their own studies, but they did it. And the one who pulled it altogether--even to securing the necessary funding--was the editor, Jonathan Selden.

While I wasn't an integral part of this effort, I was there. In fact, I resented the project a little because it distracted Jon, who was then my fiance, from paying as much attention to me as I wanted him to. An English major, I proofread. I also helped collate, walking around tables piled high with pages for hours on end. I sat at the book table during lunchtime and sold books myself. Such a huge undertaking for a young man who hadn't even finished college yet--to edit a book, to author two chapters himself. But it was a good thing he took on projects like this then, because his life ended early, at age thirty-five. Not many of us can say that we've edited a book of essays before we have graduated from college, but Jon needed to because his time was so short.

Fast forward nearly thirty years to last week. It was like Christmas at the seminary where the offices of Reformation Heritage Books are, where I work. The hallway was filled with long tables loaded with books--commentaries, Bibles, books on theology, philosophy, history. Students pored over the tables, looking for treasures to fill their libraries. The reluctant Santa, now Dr. Grier, is moving to a smaller home and has had to downsize. This teacher of so many, for so many years, donated his personal library, the tools of his trade, to the Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary Library. The librarian had pulled what she wanted from the collection, and now the rest were for sale.

It occurred to me that it would be nice to have a book from the library of this teacher who had had such a profound effect on my thought, even though I had taken only one class from him. So I spent some time digging through the piles, not exactly sure what I was looking for but positive that I would know it when I found it. The elevator doors opened, and a couple of students came out with the last few boxes and started to load the books onto the table.

I smiled as I recognized three or four copies of Essays on the Christian World View, with its stark blue cover and black plastic coil binding it all together. I thought how pleased Jon would be to know that his books had been a part of Dr. Grier's library for all these years, and now they were being placed on a table to be sold, perhaps, to students. I picked one up and felt sadness for a brilliant young man whose life ended so early, for other young men who had once been passionate for God but had long ago fallen away. And then I noticed the letter.

I knew right away what it was. Mr. Grier had moved to Grand Rapids before the books had been finished, and Jon had mailed copies to him. I was shaking as I opened it and read a letter that had most likely been typed on my electric typewriter back in June 1983:

Dear Mr. Grier, . . .

The years at Cedarville for me and for most of my friends have come and gone. However, we have endeavored to leave behind a legacy, a witness to the truth that has been taught us. This witness we have embodied in a collection of writings, Essays on the Christian World View.

Because you have been so influential in each of our lives and in our academic careers we have chosen to recognize this fact by dedicating this book to you . . .

On behalf of each of the contributors may I ask you to accept this, the first volume printed, as a token of our thanks and appreciation.

Sincerely,

Jonathan Selden

How amazing that a letter that once rested in my typewriter nearly thirty years ago should find its way back to me--through distance and time, through one man's library to a seminary library to a book table. It is a legacy--a witness to the truth--indeed.

Diversity

2011-08-24T21:22:00.001-04:00

I first encountered the issues of diversity a lifetime ago, it seems, when I was a single mom looking for a career that would enable me to support myself and my two children. There was a brief period when I considered being a teacher, and I took a few classes at a local university to get certification, until I decided that I didn't have the financial or emotional resources and just plain didn't want to be a teacher badly enough to put myself through several years of education in courses that seemed fairly irrelevant, especially since I had a master's degree in English and several years' teaching experience in private schools.

The class that made me decide my career in education was finished was on diversity in the classroom, in which we prospective teachers were taught how to manage a classroom where there were students of different races, learning abilities, socio-economic backgrounds, and even sexual orientations. I, a white, middle-class girl from a small town in northwestern Ohio with above-average intelligence, came into the class thinking that as a Christian, I should treat all people with dignity, respect, and charity--regardless of color and intellectual ability, whether they were rich or poor, gay or straight--because they were made in the image of God, and this is what I was called to do.

But this was the wrong approach. It wasn't enough to acknowledge that there were differences and respect others in spite of them. It was necessary to understand the differences, to somehow enter into the experiences of others; it would be possible to respect them only if we could understand their holidays, eat their foods, feel whatever it felt like to be female/male; Hispanic/African American/Chinese American/etc.; wheelchair bound/deaf/blind; ADHD/dyslexic; and on and on. The class met one evening a week for a couple of hours for a semester. After spending two entire class sessions listening to the miserable plight of a young gay man who grew up in a Christian home here in Grand Rapids, I decided that this approach wasn't working for me. It was easier for me to be charitable and respectful toward him when I just thought of him as another person made in God's image and didn't have to walk through the details of what it was like to be a young gay man growing up in a Christian home in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

One Christian workplace addressed the matter of diversity by offering training that focused on white racism in American history and then divided employees up into committees that considered the diversity that exists among different sexes, people of different religious denominations, people who worked in the office and people who worked in the plant, and, of course, people of different races. Again, I wonder whether it was really necessary to spend so much time exploring differences. The workers all professed to be Christians, and shouldn't they be focusing on what bound them together rather than on what made them different from each other? As humans, we all fall prey to the sin of insensitivity sometimes, and we might be guilty of saying or doing something that could hurt another, but were committees devoting hours of work time exploring the differences really the solution?

And now I work in a truly unique environment where the issue of diversity is a non-issue. The offices of Reformation Heritage Books are housed in the Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary building, so I have the unique privilege of watching as people of different colors and traditions, with varying academic abilities, of different religious denominations, some with very little of this world's possessions and some with more, and even different sexes live and study together. I overhear a conversation between two men, one from Brazil and one from the Netherlands, talking about their wives and how they're adjusting to this strange, but warm place. I watch as a young man from Scotland helps an older brother from Malawi study his Hebrew. Students and their families from Ethiopia, Mexico, the Philippines, South Africa, Canada, and America--elect from every nation, it seems--gather here without regard for language and cultural differences and live together in various apartment complexes near the seminary. I hear the students who have been here longer say to the new ones, "We're in 226. Come by if you need anything. We'll get together soon." People refer to others as brothers and sisters here, and they really mean it. And the interesting thing is that this all happens without committees, without training, without sessions that make us all aware of one another's experiences and traditions. It happens because the bonds of Christ that unite are far more powerful than the things that can divide--languages, traditions, foods, wealth, poverty, male or female.

And I am confident that there will be no diversity training in heaven.

Where Have I Been?

2011-07-26T22:44:00.000-04:00

If you want to see what our family has been up to, you need to visit Katie's photography blog. It will leave you humming "Kiss de Girl" from The Little Mermaid.

And on another subject, may I highly recommend some fantastic summer reading to you? I just finished Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, a book I had wanted to read for some time, and it did not disappoint. In fact, it exceeded my expectations. A romance story between a retired British army major and the local Pakistani shop keeper, Mrs. Ali--both senior citizens. It does not sound like a page turner, does it? Ah, but it is. One of my favorite passages. The Major and Mrs. Pettigrew encounter a young Indian woman and her son in the park, and another person in the park has been telling the little boy that he may not play with his ball there. The mother is incensed and wants to tell "the old cow" off. But the wise Mrs. Ali steps in:

" 'The world is full of small ignorances,' said a quiet voice. Mrs. Ali appeared . . . and gave the young woman a stern look. 'We must do our best to ignore them and thereby keep them small, don't you think?' "

Look who else is having an anniversary . . .

2011-07-07T22:05:00.005-04:00

July 11, 2008
Photo by LVL Photography

"Reader, I married him."

~from Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Golden

2011-06-30T22:23:00.001-04:00

Ted and Helen
July 1, 1961

Here we are at the start committing to each other
By His word and from our hearts
We will be a family in a house that will be a home
And with faith we'll build it strong

Now to be a family we've got to love each other
At any cost unselfishly
And our home must be a place that fully abounds with grace
A reflection of His face

We'll build a household of faith
That together we can make
And when the strong winds blow it won't fall down
As one in Him we'll grow and the whole world will know
We are a household of faith

Fifty years ago today, at Lower Falls Baptist Church in St. Albans, West Virginia, Ted Walborn and Helen Mash, my parents, committed their lives to each other before God, their family, and their friends. Marriages that last for fifty years are rare--it seems right that we should call them golden anniversaries. We have much to learn from couples who reach this milestone about what it takes to make a marriage last for so long.

Perhaps the finest quality of my parents' marriage has been their devotion to God. I can't remember when I didn't know about Jesus, when I wasn't learning Sunday school songs, when our family did something other than go to church on Sunday. My parents modeled their faith in every aspect of their lives--as a husband and wife, as parents to us children, as family members to their own parents and siblings, to their coworkers and friends. I'm sure they would tell you that God has held them together, in good times and bad, and He is the one who has helped them keep the vows they made to each other fifty years ago.

Not only have they served God, they have served others through their marriage. They cared for us children physically, emotionally, and spiritually so that we lacked nothing that we needed. They gave us the gift of music and then sacrificed themselves to help us develop our talents. I have always known that whatever I truly needed they would move heaven and earth to provide. They put action to that knowledge when my first husband died in 1996 and they moved from their lifelong home in Ohio to Michigan to help me raise Katie and Jonathan. Now Katie and Jonathan know the blessing of having been served by their grandparents. When my sister, Kristi, died from injuries she sustained in a car accident in 1990, we all were devastated. We still grieve her loss today. But after a few years, my parents took up God's call to comfort others with the comfort they received, and they have ministered to many other parents who have lost children and helped them through the darkness of their grief.

And now I watch them, as they grow older, serving each other. A few years ago, Mom had a run-in with cancer (thankfully she is cured now). Dad has experienced a series of surgeries, minor to major, over the past few years--on his ears, his knees, his back. And they are still there for each other, looking out for one another's needs--serving one another.

Today people talk about things being right for them, being fulfilled, finding themselves. Marriages often come to an end in the pursuit of these goals. My parents--and others who live and love for fifty years and more--inspire us to see that a marriage that lasts is a marriage focused outwardly--on God, others, and each other.

Their fifty-year commitment to each other sets an example and inspires us all to a greater commitment to God, our spouses, and our families and friends. At a time when marriages are treated as disposable commodities, as easily discarded as yesterday's newspaper, my mom and dad have demonstrated that marriage is a rare treasure, to be carefully tended and guarded for as long as God gives it.

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad! What a blessing to have been raised and loved by you in a household of faith!

On God's Popularity

2011-06-21T11:11:00.000-04:00

From The Wanderer, blog of Jeremy Walker, author of A Portrait of Paul:

"Attendance at the morning worship service will give you an indication of how popular your church is. Attendance at the evening worship service will give you an indication of how popular your pastor is. Attendance at the prayer meetings [or midweek Bible studies] will give you an indication of how popular God is.

Ouch?"

Book Review: The Next Story by Tim Challies

2011-06-15T22:33:00.000-04:00

"I'd like to invite you to join me as we think about the 'next story,' a story we are living right now--life after the digital explosion. We'll explore some suggestions and ideas for how we as Christians can live in this new reality with character, virtue, and wisdom. And we'll examine how we can respond to these revolutionary changes as followers of Christ in a digital age, learning to live faithfully as the next story unfolds."

So writes popular Christian blogger and author Tim Challies, in the introduction to The Next Story: Life and Faith after the Digital Explosion, which takes a look at the digital world of mobile phones, computers, and the Internet. Part 1 considers "how God intended technology to function in the world he created." From that Challies seeks to gain an understanding of "what is always true about the relationship between humans and their technologies." Finally, the author addresses the history of technology--how we have gotten to where we are today. In part 2, Challies proposes ways we can live wisely in the digital age, using our technologies instead of allowing them to use us.

In the first part, then, Challies lays down foundational principles about technology and its use. Christians must understand that technology is a good, God-given gift that is, like everything else, subject to the curse. Humans can use technology in a manner that glorifies God or to further our own sin by turning it into an idol.

He then looks at the effects technology is having on society and individuals, pointing out that in our excitement over a new technology, we fail to recognize the disadvantages that come along with it. He also reminds readers that within the technologies we use are biases that predispose us to see the world in one way and not another. In order to maintain our control over technology, we have to anticipate the changes that may result as we use it and respond to the changes with wisdom--admittedly not an easy task. Technology also affects ecology, promotes shifts in power (from old to young), and human biology, as scientists are now discovering the ways that our brains our changing as they are shaped by digital technology. Challies concludes part 1 by tracing the history of the technologies that have led us to the digital world of today.

Part 1 is significant and important, because by examining the theology, theory, and history behind digital technology, Challies moves beyond mere observation and opinion, and places the applications of part 2 in context. We see that technology is a good gift from God and understand that apart from our using it wisely, its effects, which can be bad as well as good, can overwhelm us, and we turn something good into something idolatrous. The chapter on the history of technology follows. As an editor, I might have organized the book differently, putting the history chapter before the others because it just makes sense to me to explain what the subject is and how we've gotten to where we are before we delve into the theology and theory of technology. It feels a little anticlimactic by the time the reader reaches this chapter, but the content is important, and the question of organization is a minor one.

Part 2 is eye-opening, convicting, and thought provoking as Challies guides the reader into a deeper level of thought regarding the day to day use of the technologies that most of us think little of. Chapter 4 deals with the pervasiveness of communication today--has communication itself become an idol, are we using our words well to be an encouragement. In chapter 5, Challies looks at how mediated our communication with others has become; we tend to avoid face-to-face contact and send emails rather than make phone calls. Chapter 6 deals with digital distractions and how they affect the quality and quantity of our work and steal us away from our families and friends. The subject of chapter 7, information and informationism, forces us to consider our information sources and recognize what information actually promotes knowledge and wisdom.

I personally found chapters 8 and 9 particularly informative. Chapter 8 considers information and authority, and takes a close look at search engines and Wikipedia. While I knew that Wikipedia was not necessarily a reliable source of information, I couldn't have explained exactly why. Challies shows how our notion of truth--and how truth is determined--is changing in light of Wikipedia and search engines. The shift to truth by consensus and majority opinion rather than authority is disturbing. Chapter 9 deals with privacy and visibility and how everything we do online leaves a permanent data trail that, were it revealed, would in many cases be at the least embarrassing and at the most incriminating.

The Next Story is important for its pioneering effort to understand biblically what technology is, how it affects us, and how we can use it wisely to glorify God. It answers the questions that not enough Christian technology users are even aware they should be asking, and it answers them in a wise and discerning fashion. With its "application" sections and questions for discussion, this is an ideal book for families and youth groups--in fact, technology users of all ages. Tim Challies has done a great job of showing us how to take our thoughts about technology and its use captive to the obedience of Christ.

Sports in Moderation

2011-06-06T22:30:00.001-04:00

There was no joy in Mudville Saturday afternoon when Jonathan's high school baseball team, the Wolf Pack, went down in defeat to the Saugatuck Indians. But it was a good season, and for Jonathan, a first-time player (he played T-ball back when he was in kindergarten), it was a good experience. He's sorry to see it all end.

I never thought it would be the case, but I guess I'm officially a sports mom. Jonathan decided this past school year--his junior year--that he wanted to be an athlete. And since he attends a small Christian school, anyone who would like to play is welcome on the team--with or without experience. Up to this point my sports experience has been less than zero. I never had an interest in or desire to play sports (I was a music and drama person), and aside from a short brush with soccer in junior high, Katie pretty much followed in my footsteps. Jonathan has blazed new trails for our family, and my time in the previously unknown leaves me with questions and concerns about the wide world of sports.

To be sure, it has been a positive experience for Jonathan. He's in much better shape physically--he slimmed right down during basketball season--and he's learned a lot about working together with others to accomplish a common goal. It's been good for him socially to interact with the other guys on the team. It's been confidence building as he has stretched himself to learn new skills and to work hard to improve. And yet . . . I find myself wondering about other lessons our kids are learning because of their involvement in sports. Are they good ones?

Some kids who participate in sports are learning that their leisure activities (and their parents' leisure activities as spectators) take priority over everything and are the most important thing in their lives. With practice every evening after school for a couple of hours, and games (often double headers that last about six hours) two or three times a week, of necessity sports activities shove everything else to the side. Are we teaching our kids that their games and practices are more important than homework, family life, and church involvement? What are we missing out on, and what are we unable to participate in because our kids are involved in sports? Would we be willing to devote the time and energy we pour into sports into Bible study?

Some kids who participate in sports are learning that their athletic ability is who they are--it is what makes them significant. In the end, sports ability is good for as long as you play sports in school. Few become professional athletes, a few more play in college, but for most, graduation from high school means the end of a sports career. And if you've learned that your value is in your ability to pitch a ball, to shoot baskets, to set records running a mile, and that the most important thing you can do is excel in sports, you're going to have a rude awakening someday when no one cares how many people you struck out your senior year or that your basketball team won the state tournament or that you still hold the record in your high school for the mile. They'll only care that you show up on time for class or work, meet deadlines, and produce results that require less physical prowess and more mental ability. For some kids, it will be unsettling at best, and devastating at its worst.

Some kids who participate in sports are learning that they are the center of the universe. No expense for clothing and equipment is too great. Parents do not have lives and interests of their own. They exist to transport their children to practices and games. Their own responsibilities (including paid jobs) become secondary as they block out huge amounts of time to attend games.

My husband and I sat Jonathan down early in the season. We told him that we supported him in his decision to participate in baseball, and we thought it would be a good activity for him. We told him that we love him. We also told him that with all the responsibilities we have, we couldn't possibly devote our time to attending all of his games. We would aim for one a week. We support him by working at jobs to earn money to pay for the things he needs. We support him by setting an example of prioritizing life's demands responsibly. We support him by not allowing him to forget about his more important responsibilities. We support him by setting an example of moderation.

Sports in moderation is a good thing. Children can learn important lessons that prepare them for life by playing sports in moderation. But sports not in moderation becomes like anything else not in moderation--an idol.
And kids--like the rest of us--don't need to be taught to have idols. They can accomplish that without any practice at all.

"Love Their Husbands"

2011-05-16T22:00:00.000-04:00

My Mother's Day was very sweet this year. Now that the kids are getting a little older, they are able to treat me in ways that are better even than gifts, although Jonathan gave me a beautiful card and Katie gave me a very pretty coffee cup that is now my favorite. We had my parents over for lunch, and Henry and Katie put the meal together while Jonathan set the table. I was ordered out of the kitchen and spent my time playing the piano while they all put the meal together. It was a lovely day.

And yet there was a small, gray cloud hanging over the day. Not because of anything my family did or didn't do--they were great-- but because of some news we had received earlier in the week that a family that we all know and have been friends with for years is getting a divorce. We were all shocked to hear it. They seemed to be such a solid Christian family. The husband works hard at a good job, shows great love for his two children and wife, takes care of his house and lawn, and takes his family boating and camping in the summer. The wife was able to work at home before the children were in school, and keeps her home beautifully and dotes on her children. Katie has babysat for the children. The family has taken Jonathan in, making a special, conscious effort to include him in their activities, knowing how difficult things have been for him growing up without a dad. When I had no idea where to send Jonathan to a high school where he would be able to grow in healthy ways, the wife was the answer to my prayers when she told me about a small, conservative Lutheran high school that has, in fact, worked very well for Jonathan.

And now, we hear, she has left--a husband, two beautiful children, a lovely home, and even a much-loved dog--because she hasn't loved her husband in many years, she says.

During my single years, I had several opportunities to get to know men whose wives had left them for similar reasons. I've never seen anything so sad as these men who will admit they made mistakes but were genuinely trying to be good husbands and fathers to their families, who now sit back watching the wives that they still love going out on dates with their boyfriends or remarrying, relegated to being fathers to their cherished children only on the weekends. The children in these situations feel a pain that will never go away and are hurt and angry that the family that they had once been a part of is now broken and beyond repair. I've told Katie and Jonathan more than once that it's definitely painful when a parent dies, but far worse is when a parent chooses to leave, chooses to destroy the family, chooses to forever scar his or her children because of selfish desires that will never be satisfied.

The women in these situations seem to be hoping to star in their own personal chick flick or be the main character in a Christian romance novel, hoping to find themselves, find romance, find love--find something more satisfying than loving God, their husbands, and their children. They won't find "it" because there isn't anything to find. There is no object to discover, only a task to be fulfilled.

Back to Mother's Day: Our pastor preached from Titus 2:

Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, andsubmissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled.

It was a convicting sermon, and if there was a woman who walked out of church that day feeling like she had it altogether, she wasn't listening well. But the concept that struck me--again--is how unlike the world's notion of love biblical love is. Most think of love as a kind of passive thing, something that we fall in and out of, something that happens to us--an object we hope to find. The world also sees it as something optional--you can love your husband or not love your husband. In fact, we often hear that someone stays in a marriage for the sake of the children even though he or she doesn't really love his or her spouse.

That's not at all what Paul is saying here as he instructs the older women to train the younger women to love their husbands and children. Love here is something to be learned--something that must be learned and exercised in order to be obedient to God. As our pastor pointed out, the passage doesn't say wives should love their husbands if they are thoughtful, romantic, good looking, helpful around the house, whatever else we might think that we want in a husband. Just love him. Because we are commanded. Because you can't truly love your children--or God--if you're not loving your husband.

And so I'm sad for this man who says that he married his wife for life but is faced with the ugliness of divorce. I'm sad for these children who have known what it is to have a rich family life but who will never have it again, whose future will mean dividing holidays up between more families than there are holidays. And I'm sad for this woman who thinks that she'll find something more satisfying out there than loving her husband and children and who thinks that love will happen to her somehow, someday. Outside of chick flicks and romance novels, there are no happy endings for those who wait for love to find them. The answer to not loving anymore is to start loving again. Only in this is there a happy ending.

Katie and the Governor

2011-05-16T21:09:00.001-04:00

Katie is just starting her second week of a photojournalism internship with the Holland (Michigan) Sentinel. Last week was Holland's famous Tulip Festival, and Katie was quite busy photographing the festivities.

For those of you who are not Michiganders, the gray-haired man on the left is Michigan's new governor, Rick Snyder. He was visiting the Hudsonville Creamery, which is near Holland, to sample two new flavors created especially for him. And Katie was there to photograph the event.

Also there was her internship supervisor, who instructed her to go stand near the governor and do something crazy. So she did. And the best part? Hudsonville Ice Cream gave each of the photographers two half gallons of ice cream to take home. I think Katie's summer is getting off to a good start.

And if you want to see some of her pictures from the Tulip Festival, including a respectable photo of Governor Snyder that Katie took when she wasn't being silly, take a look here.

Short and Sweet

2011-05-06T10:18:00.001-04:00

"Is the world safer with bin Laden dead? Who knows. But it is better."

~Peggy Noonan

Why I Don't Need to Read Love Wins to Know I Don't Need to Read Love Wins

2011-05-04T22:06:00.001-04:00

If you haven't heard of this book, good for you. It probably means that you have better things to do than waste lots of time on the Internet reading about books that you don't need to read. But lots of Christians out there are talking about Love Wins by Rob Bell, pastor of Mars Hill Church and author of books like Velvet Elvis and Sex God. The book has stirred controversy because in typical Bellian fashion, the author raises provocative questions from the beginning of the book. He tells an anecdote about an art fair at his church. An artist incorporated a quote by Gandhi into her artwork, and someone attached a note to it saying, "Reality check: He's in hell." This leads Bell to ask, first, how anyone knows what Gandhi's eternal destiny is. But this is the broader question that this leads to: "Of all the billions of people that have ever lived, will only a select number 'make it to a better place' and every single other person suffer in torment and punishment forever? Is this acceptable to God? Has God created millions of people over tens of thousands of years who are going to spend tens of thousands of years in anguish? Can God do this, or even allow this, and still claim to be a loving God?"

And we see where Pastor Rob is headed. In a later chapter, he criticizes churches who give a summary of their beliefs on their websites and state their belief that those who do not believe in Jesus will be sent to eternal punishment in hell. It's as clear as Rob ever gets that he doesn't like this, that this notion of eternal judgment is contradictory to a God with whom all things are possible.

But that's it. That's all I've read--the Amazon preview. And I don't need to read any more to tell you that I don't need to read this book. Clearly Rob is questioning the doctrine of judgment and hell, and I really don't have any questions about that. It isn't that I know all there is to know about the Bible and its teachings--far from it. But I am Reformed, and Reformed believers have the great blessing of historic creeds and confessions that provide summaries of what the Bible has to say about the major doctrines of the church. These confessions were written by theologians, godly men who studied the Scriptures and summarized their teachings. And these same confessions have been upheld by other godly Christians and church bodies who have studied the matter and affirmed that--yes--this is what Scripture teaches on this subject.

And so what does the Heidelberg Catechism have to say about eternal judgment?

Q. How does Christ's return "to judge the living and the dead" comfort you?

A. In all my distress and persecution I turn my eyes to the heavens and confidently await as judge the very One who has already stood trial in my place before God and so has removed the whole curse from me. All his enemies and mine he will condemn to everlasting punishment: but me and all his chosen ones he will take along with him into the joy and glory of heaven.

And the catechism gives Scripture references to support what it says: Luke 21:28; Romans 8:22-25; Philippians 3:20-21; Titus 2:13-14; Matthew 25:31-46; 11 Thessalonians 1:6-10.

I don't need to read all of Rob's distorted catechism questions with no answers to find the answers to questions that have been answered thoroughly and biblically from the Scriptures centuries ago, especially when he's offering us a heresy that has been rejected already many times through the centuries. I don't need to revisit what I've been taught about hell from my childhood because what I've been taught is the truth of God's Word.

Of course there are those of you out there who are wondering how fair it is of me to judge that Pastor Rob's ideas are all wrong when I haven't even heard him out or read his arguments. Again, this is a non-issue for me, so I don't need to hear him out. But this is one of the great blessings of the information age--the Internet. There are plenty of theologians out there who are willing to read this book and review it. And because I know that reviewers like Carl Trueman, Kevin DeYoung, and Mark Galli are reliable, wise, and discerning, I can take their word for it when they tell me that Love Wins contradicts the truths of Scripture and history.

So I close, not with questions about hell, but with the answers that have stood the test of God's Word and history:

Hell and judgment, the Bible teaches, are acceptable to God. They are part of His plan.

Really.

God has created millions, billions of people who will suffer eternity in anguish.

Truly.

This is acceptable to a loving God. In fact, this is the requirement of a loving God, a God with whom all things are possible.

And this is sad. Some will spend eternity apart from him.

But here's the good news: God gave His Son, Jesus, to die for the sins of the world, so that whoever believes in Him will not perish but will have everlasting life.

This is all about justice,

mercy,

and--yes--love.

Flower Delivery

2011-04-26T20:40:00.001-04:00

At Christmas and Easter, the decorating committee at our church fills the sanctuary with the season's fresh flowers, and after the Sunday evening service, members of the congregation deliver the flowers to the shut-ins of the congregation. Our family was asked to deliver flowers to three ladies and a couple living in a retirement community, and so we filled the front and back seats with Easter lilies and a pink tulip and headed out, a little overwhelmed by the perfume of the Easter lilies.

Our first stop was at a dear lady's room in the nursing care part of the complex. When I first met her four years ago, she was close to ninety. She was Henry's friend--the only person I've ever heard call him Henk, the Dutch nickname for Henry. She was full of love, life, laughter, and joy in the Lord, and I'm so glad I knew her before she took the fall that started her rapid decline. Once animated, dressed in a sparkly suit on Sundays, she now laid quietly in the darkening room, wearing a hospital gown. Henry quietly approached and the rest of stayed back a little, not wanting to startle or overwhelm her.

Confused, at first she thought Henry was our pastor, but she quickly realized who her flower delivery person was. When I met her, she spoke English well--she's lived in America for much of her adult life--but her aging mind remembers the Dutch she spoke as a girl, and so she began rattling away at Henry, who understands and speaks some. She pointed to the Easter lily that was already there, and (as I pieced things together) told Henry that she already had one. In Dutch, he told her that now she had two. I was impressed that either he (a) understood her and was able to communicate back to her, or (b) was able to act like he genuinely understood her and spoke back to her. I found out later that for my sweet husband, it was a little of a and more of b. That's one of the reasons I love him so much. He was very convincing.

They talked for a bit, and then she noticed the rest of us. She did recognize me, and it amazed me when she realized that she had to speak to me in English--and did. In the brief time we knew each other, she and I developed a mutual admiration, and she told me, "You are beautiful," as we held hands. I said, "You are beautiful," and I meant it. I kissed her neatly manicured hand--prettier than mine will ever be--and told her I loved her. She blew Henry a kiss as we left. It was hard to leave her, but there were other flowers to deliver before the evening was over.

Our last delivery was to an 89-year-old lady that I didn't know well. She still lives in independent living apartments. We all took seats in her nicely decorated and very tidy living room, and she insisted on serving all five of us cookies and orange juice. A traditional lady, she offered us refreshments several times, and at first we told her not to bother. Finally we accepted the orange juice and homemade cookies (delicious--glad we did) and found out that we drank up all her OJ. Later I told Henry that I felt bad about that, but he said that if we didn't accept her offer, we would have worried her to death. Dutch ladies must be hospitable--it's who they are, and they will find something to feed you.

We talked for awhile, and I fell in love with her when she told us this story. She walks with a walker that has a little seat on the front for carrying things. She had been making some soup, and was putting it into containers to freeze for another meal when she fell, spilling the hot soup all over her hands--she still had some scars from the incident. She didn't want anyone to know that she fell because if the wrong people found out, it could mean a transfer into the not-so-independent-apartments in another part of the complex, so she pushed through the pain and pulled herself up on her bad knee (she told us it really hurt), using her walker and a kitchen chair. She deserved way more than an Easter lily, but that was all we had.

It was a good way to end the day of resurrection, spending time with people who had been celebrating that resurrection far longer than we have and experiencing the blessings of its truth for many years. While we left them with a potted plant, they left us with the blessing of fellowship and communion of the saints. I will definitely be signing up to deliver poinsettias this Christmas.

Resurrection

2011-04-23T20:12:00.000-04:00

Oh God of my exodus,
Great was the joy of Israel's sons,
   when Egypt died upon the shore,
Far greater the joy,
   when the Redeemer's foe lay crushed in the dust.
Jesus strides forth as the victor,
   conqueror of death, hell, and all opposing might;
He bursts the bands of death,
   tramples the power of darkness down,
   and lives forever.
He, my gracious surety,
   apprehended for payment of my debt,
   comes forth from the prison house of the grave
   free, and triumphant over sin, Satan, and death. . . .
What more could be done than thou hast done!
   Thy death is my life,
   thy resurrection my peace,
   thy ascension my hope,
   thy prayers my comfort.

~from The Valley of Vision

A Place Called Mercy: John 5

2011-04-20T21:58:00.003-04:00

A description of the spot makes it sound like something that should be on a postcard: a pool with five covered walkways in Jerusalem called Bethesda, which means mercy. Mercy was the last thing you could expect to find in this anti-resort visited by multitudes of blind, crippled, paralyzed people who spent their days waiting for an unpredictable angel to stir the waters. The first one in, they said, would be instantly healed. And so the blind waited, even though they wouldn't be able to see the water bubbling. The crippled and paralyzed waited too--even though they wouldn't be physically able to move into the pool--at least not quickly--when the water stirred. And so instead of peace, relaxation, and happiness, those waiting by this pool were filled with desperation, anxiety, and sadness.

And if you were in Jerusalem to celebrate the feast, is this where you would go? To this pool of despair surrounded by the hopeless? It would be a little like going to New York City to watch the Thanksgiving parade and instead, going to a homeless shelter or a hospice. And yet Jesus, in Jerusalem for the feast, did just that: he went to the pool called Bethesda, which means mercy. And out of the multitudes of the sick, Jesus saw one nameless man who had been ill for thirty-eight years--longer than most people in those days lived.

There was nothing particularly attention-grabbing about this man lying on his bed by the pool in a place called Mercy. Jesus just "knew" that he had been there a long time. And so out of all the masses of sick people, Jesus looked upon this invalid and asked him a very strange question: "Do you want to be healed?" Who wouldn't want to be healed after thirty-eight years of lying on a mat? So then the man, of course, responded, "Of course." Except that stories in the gospel of John never go the way we would expect them to, and that's not what the man said. So the man answered just as strangely as Jesus asked: "There isn't anyone to put me in the water when it stirs, and by the time I get to it myself, someone else gets there first." He almost sounds a little defensive, doesn't he, as if Jesus is accusing him of something instead of asking him a simple question. When we are confronted with sinless perfection, it's sinfully natural to become defensive, to blame someone else for our own failures and flaws.

And so the man who expected his salvation to come from an angel stirring the pool of water found it coming from this stranger who told him to take up his bed and walk. Wouldn't you expect him to say, "Why didn't I think of that? Don't you think I would if I could?" But he didn't. He did what everyone Jesus calls does, must do. He took up his bed and walked. And later, when he meets Jesus in the temple, he comes to understand that physical healing, a wonderful thing, is actually a small thing when we understand that what we really need from Jesus is spiritual healing so that we can go and sin no more.

How like those invalids by the pool are we all--blind to our sin, unable to walk in God's paths, paralyzed and unable to do anything pleasing to him. We lie by the pool, helpless to do anything to bring about our own cure, trusting in anything we can to bring us salvation, anything except the one who truly can save. But he comes to us--hopeless, desperate, full of self-pity, with nothing that would draw anyone to us--knows, chooses us, calls us, and transports us from the pool of despair to Mercy, asking us if we want to be well. He knows that we are helpless even to answer, so he tells us to get up, take up our bed, and walk. And sin no more.

Pet Punctuation Peeve

2011-04-14T22:04:00.000-04:00

The route we travel to so many places takes us past our local Steak 'n Shake. While I certainly admire that eating establishment's steakburgers with cheese, skinny but crisp fries, and--yes--milkshakes, I cringe every time we pass by because of this:

"Open 24 hours"

For the people driving by on M6 at 3 am who can indulge their craving for a double chocolate fudge or turtle caramel nut shake (now I want one), this is a wonderful thing, but, please, Steak 'n Shake, lose the quotation marks.

As an English major-now-editor, I'm coming to the conclusion that people should have to get a license to use quotation marks. When I see the quotation marks around "Open 24 hours," it indicates one of the following:

1. Someone else is saying that Steak 'n Shake is open 24 hours.
2. It's a joke--Steak 'n Shake is not open 24 hours; in fact, used this way, it's probably only open two or three hours a day.

So Steak 'n Shake, these are the situations in which you would use quotation marks, and I'm thinking that these would rarely come up on your sign:

1. When you are indicating that someone else is saying something:

Annette said, "I would like to go to Steak and Shake to have a turtle caramel shake." Truer words were never spoken.

Note that the words the person is actually saying are enclosed in quotation marks. A comma goes before, and end punctuation usually goes inside. The exceptions are question marks sometimes (a subject for another lesson) and semicolons and colons.

2. When you are using a term ironically:

I just had a "healthy" meal at Steak 'n Shake that included a turtle caramel shake and french fries.

3. When you are referring to a word as a word:

A "classic melt" at Steak 'n Shake has nothing to do with ice; it involves meat and melted cheese on toast.

So Steak 'n Shake, why don't you just get rid of the set of quotation marks that came with the letters for your sign? I'm hard pressed to think of a situation where you would need them for your purposes. Unless there's something you want to tell us about your "steak" burgers . . .

Facism (Not to Be Confused with Fascism)

2011-04-06T21:39:00.000-04:00

I just want to be treated fairly. Aren't we all created equal? Is it right that a segment of society should suffer ostracism--even abuse--simply because we aren't part of the majority? Should we not all have the same opportunities for success--the same right to pursue happiness--here in America?

I do not enjoy the same rights and privileges as others because of a new and ugly form of bigotry: Facism, which is not to be confused with Fascism. Let me explain. This evening, I checked my e-mail and found an ad from Orbitz announcing that I could win a trip to London. I eagerly opened the e-mail and scanned the page to find out how I could enter. I would like the chance to win a trip to London. But when I found the information for entering the contest, I saw that I would have to enter through Facebook. I don't have a Facebook. I am a victim of social media, refused the opportunity to enter a contest simply because I don't participate in Facebook.

So now those of us who are victims of Facism are refused the opportunity to enter contests. We also aren't privy to invitations to events when a universal invitation is extended on Facebook, and yet we're still expected to be in attendance. It seems unreasonable--yes, prejudicial--to expect those of us who are not on Facebook to show up for your open house/wedding reception/Pampered Chef party/birthday when we do not know that it is happening. Expecting non-Facebookers to know about and support your social events when they aren't even aware of them is definitely facist.

Even families are turning on their members who don't engage in social media. When my husband recently learned that a cousin had bought a campground in a distant state and had moved away months ago, he was told, "Get on Facebook." So now we can't even be a part of our families if we aren't on Facebook?

So what is next for those of us who have opted not to splay our lives for the world to see on Facebook? For those of us who don't have twenty-five pictures of our most recent vacation posted? For those of us who don't have time to report the minor, insignificant details of our lives to the rest of the world? Perhaps we'll be banned to live in our own physical communities, where people communicate by letters, telephone, and--gasp!--talking. When someone has surgery, has a baby, dies, gets married, or just wants to get together for an evening, we'll be forced to pick up the phone or send out paper announcements and invitations. And we just won't know where you went on vacation, see the pictures of the most recent remodeling project, or that you just finished cleaning your toilet and ate a bowl of Reese's Puffs. We shall overcome . . . or maybe not.

An Open Letter to Women Who Wear Leggings

2011-03-28T21:26:00.001-04:00

Dear Women of All Ages Who Wear Leggings (and, if appropriate, your mothers),

You're everywhere--at the mall, in the grocery store, and now, of all places, at church. You're young and thin, young and not so thin, over forty, long legs and short legs. I always have to look at you a couple of times to figure out what is going on, because my first thought is, "Oh, no, she has forgotten her pants." And then I realize that the one I'm looking at completely intended this. This is on purpose. And I marvel again at how someone or some institution so ridiculous--the fashion industry, Lindsay Lohan, Hollywood, a Kohl's ad--has brainwashed a mass of women into believing that this looks good on them, when, in fact, on most it just looks kind of silly.

But there you all are, knit fabric clinging to every shapely curve of your leg--whether it's a nice shape or not so nice--with your sweater or shirt just brushing the top of your thigh/bottom of your butt in that provocative way that I'm sure distracts many men from what they're supposed to be doing or thinking about because they're imagining just what's a little bit above what they can't see. (And especially to the one who sat in front of us during church a couple of weeks ago--please don't do that to my menfolk again. I'm sure that it's difficult to recite the Apostles' Creed and focus on worship when there's a young woman showing us things that none of us should be seeing accept your husband someday and your doctor. If you're going to dress like that for church, please show the men of the congregation the courtesy of sitting in the last row.)

(By the way, I'm not writing to those of you who are wearing the leggings with skirts of decent length. While it's not a look that I would wear because I'm too old for it [and pretty much any woman over forty is] and my legs are really too short to carry it off, you aren't showing us body parts that we shouldn't be seeing. I can live with that.)

Going out only half dressed is not a good idea for so many reasons: (1) you look like you have forgotten your pants, (2) you look like you don't know any better than a four-year-old little girl who is running around in her leotards and shirt because she doesn't know where her skirt is and her mom is too busy at the moment to help her find it, (3) a man who sees a woman who will go in public half dressed can only assume that she's more than willing to decrease that fraction when she's not in public, (4) and--the big one--it's immodest. And please don't say, "But I'm covered up." It's not just what you cover, it's how you cover it. Some garments have been designed in such a way (lingerie, bikinis, and leggings with short tops) that they cover something up only to draw attention to it so that male observers will imagine it uncovered.

Please come to your senses and show the world that women in the twenty-first century are tired of fashions that look good only on preschool children. Aim for something higher than WWLLD (What would Lindsey Lohan do?). Moms, teach your daughters that when it comes to beauty and feminine dignity, less is not always more. Can we leave the leggings in the little girls' department--where they belong?

Thank you.

Read to Grow

2011-03-15T22:02:00.002-04:00

I was asked to write an article for our church's newsletter about a new reading program our library committee introduced in January of this year. We're only three months into Read to Grow, but so far it's been a success with those who are participating. Start a program like this in your church too! If you have any questions about how it works, leave it in the comments.

“The function of a good book is to stand like a signpost guiding the reader to the Truth and the Life.”
~A. W. Tozer

In January, fourteen Trinity URC readers and reader-families accepted the challenge of Read to Grow, a new program sponsored by the library committee. The goal of Read to Grow is to help readers grow spiritually as they increase their knowledge of the Scriptures by reading great Christian literature. The program helps our church library grow as well.

Late in 2010, Trinity members were invited to participate in the program, and fourteen individuals and families signed up. The program coordinator then selected fourteen books on a variety of subjects that would be circulated among the participants for the next fourteen months. The cost of the books was divided among the participants, with each participant paying about seven dollars to participate.

On the first Sunday in January, each participant received a book in their church mailbox. And each first Sunday of the month after that through February 2012, participating readers pass along the book they have been reading to the next reader on the schedule. At the end of the rotation, the books will be donated to the library so that all the members of Trinity can have an opportunity to read them.

Several factors affected book selection. Because the books will ultimately end up in the church library, they had to meet the education committee’s guidelines for library books. Also, because readers have only a month to read the book, it was important to keep page counts reasonable—around two hundred pages at the most. And because men, women, teens, and even a few children are participating, it was important to choose titles that would have a broad appeal.

The various titles include children’s fiction and history books (that adults will learn from and enjoy too); several practical Christian living books on topics such as evangelism and family relationships; Bible-study-focused books on subjects like the seven signs in the gospel of John, how Jesus is revealed in the Old Testament feasts, and the happiness of heaven; and an exciting, inspiring autobiography of a godly young missionary who was held in a Japanese prison camp during World War II.

Participating readers are already finding Read to Grow to be a helpful program. Pastor Vos comments: “The Read to Grow program is a most beneficial program for the church, as it not only encourages us to grow in the grace and knowledge of Christ through good Christian literature, but also cultivates a sense of community as we read the same works. The added benefit is that for a very minimal cost, we are able to build the church library for the benefit of many for years to come. I encourage everyone (young and old alike) to participate and ‘read to grow.’” Rebecca Wright finds that it helps her be more diligent in her reading: “Read to Grow puts feet on my good intentions to read more faith-building books. The genius is its simplicity: one book, one month, pass it on. Simple and fun!” Jake Vierzen appreciates how the program is increasing his knowledge: “I joined Read to Grow because I wanted to continue to know God’s Word more, to deepen my understanding of Him, and because the deadlines would assist me in getting the books read! I have been very appreciative of the books that have been selected.”

Reading is an important discipline for the Christian, and a program like Read to Grow encourages us to read books that will help us to be transformed by the renewing of our minds (Rom. 12:2). Those of us who are reading to grow in 2011 hope that you’ll join us in a new cycle of Read to Grow that will begin, Lord willing, in 2012. But those who want to start reading don’t need to wait until 2012 to begin. Visit our church library and get in training now with some great Christian books so that you are ready to take up the Read to Grow challenge in 2012.

Evidence Not Seen

2011-03-02T22:35:00.002-05:00

Personally, I've found that one of the quickest cures for an episode of self-pity--of feeling like no one could possibly have ever suffered as I have suffered--is to pick up the story of a person who truly has suffered for the sake of Christ--and suffered well. Should you be looking for such a cure yourself, I would recommend Evidence Not Seen: A Woman's Miraculous Faith in the Jungles of World War II by Darlene Deibler Rose.

In 1938, on her first wedding anniversary, twenty-one-year-old Darlene and her first husband, Russell Deibler, arrived in the East Indies on the island of Java. This was only a temporary stopover; ultimately, they hoped to serve as missionaries on the island of New Guinea and bring the good news of Jesus Christ to those who had never heard. Darlene was the first American woman to go there, and the natives marveled at her white skin.

But the missionaries' remote location did not protect them from the terrors of World War II, and eventually the Japanese invaded their island home and put the men and women in separate prison camps. Faced with hardships that most of us will never experience, Darlene remained steadfast in her love for and trust in God. Already separated from Russell, she then is separated from her mentor, an elderly missonary who is like a father to her, when he is taken to a different prison camp: "Be a good soldier for Jesus Christ," he tells her, and she certainly is for her four years of tremendous hardship in the prison camp.

Our natural response is to look at someone like Darlene and tell ourselves that we could never be that courageous or strong in similar circumstances. It's true that Darlene was an incredibly courageous, faithful young woman who never doubted or lost confidence in her Lord, when many would have felt that they had been forsaken. But when I read a story like this one, I realize that God truly gives his people what they need to persevere in incredibly difficult situations, and should he call any of us to suffer in this way, we would find his strength sufficient as well. We see the benefits and effectiveness of prayer, as Darlene often throws herself on the mercy of her God--and He always provides what she needs, whether it's food, information, or protection from death. She recalls Scripture passages and hymns that comfort her in dark days. She earns the respect and even admiration of the Japanese commander of the camp, and she takes the opportunity--at great personal risk--to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with him.

This is an inspiring story of God's faithfulness to one young woman in the midst of tremendous trials and how she, in turn, serves as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.

The book is available for purchase here.

A Study in Contrasts

2011-02-23T21:47:00.002-05:00

"But Jesus . . . knew all people and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man.”

The man came at night.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

He was an achiever in all that he did. A scholar, he was a religious leader who understood the law and kept it faithfully. He was also a politician, “a ruler of the Jews,” a member of Israel’s highest legislative body, the Sanhedrin. With age had come success, accompanied by much-deserved respect. Nicodemus needed nothing. But, still, he came at night. And it felt odd—calling a younger, uneducated man “rabbi,” asking questions rather than being asked, taking the place of a student. But he wanted to know about the miracles, so he came at night.

“But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God."

The young rabbi made no sense. He spoke about being born again like a baby, about the Spirit behaving like the wind that blows where it wishes, about the ancient story of the snake-bitten people being saved as they looked at a bronze serpent lifted up on a pole. This one who did miracles from God spoke in metaphors of weakness. But the one who came at night was strong, capable, accomplished. And he left in the dark.

“He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him.”

She came at noon. The sun beat down on the baked earth, and it was hot. But more unpleasant than the heat of the sun at noon were the glares and whispers of the other women. And so she came at noon to fetch her water, an essential, but dreaded, chore.

“For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed.”

And there he was, at noon, by the well, with the sun hot and bright, beating down on the baked earth. This Jewish man was asking an uneducated, immoral, unnamed Samaritan woman for a drink. The young Jewish rabbi made no sense. What was he thinking—asking a Samaritan woman for a drink and then telling her that if she asked, he would give her living water, and she would never be thirsty again? If he really had water like that, why would he ask her for a drink?

“The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."

It sounded good—never having to come out again in the heat of the day, carrying the now heavy jar filled with water back to the house. And so she asked him to give it to her. But then he asked her to bring her husband. And this was what she was trying to avoid. This was why she had come at noon instead of when all the others were there. She worried that the deal would be off . . . and so she told the truth, kind of. “I don’t have a husband.” “That’s right,” he said. “You have had five husbands, and now you are living with a man who is not her husband.”

“He told me all that I ever did.”

She realized that this was no longer a conversation about water. She was speaking with a prophet from God. Could this somehow all be related to the coming of the Messiah? And then he told her: “I who speak to you am he.”

Poor, shunned, uneducated, immoral—he knew all about her and revealed himself as the Messiah to her anyway. In the light of the sun, she left her water jar behind and went to tell the people of the town about the one who had found her.

It's no coincidence that these two incidents occur back to back in John's gospel. Through a study of contrasts, John shows us that the gospel is for everyone—men, women, rich, poor, educated, uneducated, moral, and immoral—for whoever believes in him.

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."

To My Valentine

2011-02-14T20:40:00.001-05:00

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I'm so glad that your hand holds mine,

And I will always belong to you.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

God blessed me more than I could have asked or imagined

When He gave me the gift of you.

Many waters cannot quench love,
      Nor can the floods drown it.
      If a man would give for love
      All the wealth of his house,
It would be utterly despised.

~Song of Songs 8:7

Four

2011-01-27T22:29:00.002-05:00

I sat down, pulled up the blog, and had just decided I had nothing to say. Not one thing. There are several things I've been meaning to write about but keep putting off until I have more time to be delving into topics that require more mental alertness and creativity than I have at this point in the day.

I remembered that it was about this time of year that I began my blog and started to wonder what date exactly I first entered the blogosphere. And what do you know? It was January 27, 2007--exactly four years ago today.

In 2007 I was a single mom with a fifteen-year-old daughter who was just learning to play around with her little camera and a thirteen-year-old son with a round baby face who couldn't remember ever having a dad. I was in love with my work as an editor at Discovery House Publishers, and--even though I was sick to death of dating--I was spending my Friday nights getting to know a mysterious, kind, reserved man named Henry who was different from anyone else I had dated. I couldn't really tell you at that point why I was saying yes to his dinner invitations every week. I was tracking the number of dates we had gone on in my planner, just wondering how many it would be before we had our last--an inevitable circumstance based on previous experience.

In 2011 I'm married to the mysterious (not so much now), kind Henry--who isn't so reserved once you get to know him. We still go out on dates on Friday nights, except during Jonathan's basketball season. Marriage has brought with it a different house, church, and a whole new set of great friends. The daughter is in her second year of college now, and the camera play has taken a much more serious turn since she's a photojournalism major. The equipment is a little more expensive too. The boy--now 17--knows what it is to have a dad who makes him shovel the sidewalk and mow the lawn, teaches him how to shave and tie a tie, and talks politics and watches World War II movies with him. The baby face has to be shaved on occasion, and the somewhat longer legs can be found running up and down the basketball court at Tuesday and Friday night basketball games.

I still love being an editor--but I'm doing it at Reformation Heritage Books, and there are different adventures in books, new authors, and a range of responsibilities that makes my head spin some days. And my hair is just a little bit longer now than it has been--a quite daring move for me.

So happy birthday, my blog. You came into my life at a time when I've had lots to write about. And if there isn't quite as much now, that's okay too. Having a somewhat uneventful life that looks a lot like everyone else's may not make for great blogging material, but I don't think I mind having nothing to say.

Words, Words. Words

2011-01-19T21:29:00.002-05:00

POLONIUS: What do you read, my lord?

HAMLET: Words, words, words.

POLONIUS: What is the matter, my lord?

HAMLET: Between who?

POLONIUS: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.

Words have been in the news a lot recently. Most of the time we don't think about them much. We throw them around here and there, letting them fall where they will--sometimes biting and stinging, sometimes soothing and calming, Sometimes our words provoke thought and response; sometimes they have about as much substance as marshmallow cream. Sometimes the words directed toward us, like sticks and stones breaking our bones, hurt us. Sometimes our words are like junk mail. We send them out to anyone, anywhere and hope that someone will notice and buy. But the words most of us remember and hold dear have come like elegantly wrapped packages, and we store them someplace safe so that we can revisit them when we need to.

Words are certainly powerful things,even though we're not always conscious of their power when we're using them. And that's why they've gotten a lot of attention of late. Soon after news got out of the tragic shooting in Tucson that left six people dead and others, including a state representative, wounded, words came under attack. "It was the violent language of the ultra-conservative political pundits that we hear on radio and television that incited the shooter to violence," some said. If only the words they use against those who disagree with them politically weren't so hate-filled, so full of metaphorical violence, this tragedy never would have happened. And in a great show of sensitivity, the Republicans responded by renaming their repeal of Obamacare "job-destroying" rather than "job-killing" because everyone knows that destroying is much nicer than killing. And all of this fuss over words when so far no evidence suggests that the words that are being blamed influenced the shooter in any way at all.

NewSouth Books has made news too. The publisher is releasing an edition of Mark Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, one of the great masterpieces of American literature, without the words "nigger" and "injun." "Nigger" will be replaced with the word "slave." The book has been banned from many school libraries and classrooms through the years because of its use of politically incorrect language that many find offensive. The editor of this new edition believes that now teachers will feel more comfortable using Huck in the classroom, and students will be able to enjoy all that the book has to offer. With a master's degree in English, as a former teacher who frequently used this novel in the classroom, and an editor, everything in me screams NO to this ridiculous attempt at political correctness. One thing is sure: the students who use this edition of Huck Finn will not be enjoying all that this book has to offer because one of the great themes of this novel is the young boy Huck's growing consciousness that Jim, the character in the novel often described as a nigger, is a noble man who loves his family and is more of a friend and father to Huck than the white people in his life. Twain's message is anti-racist, and to draw attention to and remove language that a young boy would likely have used in the pre-Civil War South is to miss the point entirely.

It would be foolish to argue that words have no power, that we can use the language of violence and racism without consequence. But it's just as foolish to believe that if we only eliminate the language, there will be no more racism, no more violence. The words are just a reflection of what is in our hearts, and we know that hearts are full of hatred and violence, "desperately wicked," the prophet Jeremiah tells us. And so we must be careful not to oversimplify and blame words themselves (especially if the words themselves aren't to blame) for what lives deep in all of our hearts.

But the good news is that there is a powerful Word that was in the beginning, that was with God and was God. And that Word, in the most perfect way, reveals the Father's heart to us. Those who know this Word know the beginning of the end of violence and hatred. This Word--and not simply the elimination of words--is the solution to hatred and violence. In fact, this Word will both kill and destroy all that is evil, so that words will only ever communicate all that is good.

An Obsession?

2011-01-14T10:07:00.002-05:00

Via: Online Schools

Got It Covered

2011-01-10T22:02:00.000-05:00

Katie finishes working at her college's library, drives my car back over to the seminary building where I work to pick me up, and I hop in the driver's seat. The next leg of the trip is west on 96 to 196, south through downtown on 131, and off at 36th Street, where we pick up our next passenger, Jonathan, who has just finished two hours of basketball practice. We have miles to go before we sleep--or at least I thought we did.

I drive around the corner to the grocery store to pick up a couple of things that we need for dinner, and both kids stay in the car. I hurry through the store, gather fresh vegetables, and stand in the less-than-ten items line for a few minutes. I dash back out to the car, where both exhausted children (19 and 17, mind you) are leaning against the windows in the front and back seats with their eyes shut. Neither of them even looks up as I get in the car and back out of the parking spot.They've had a hard day.

As I drive through the parking lot I comment, "A kidnapper could be driving the two of you away, and you wouldn't even know it. You'd be ten miles from here, and there'd be nothing you could do."

Summoning all of the strength left in his weary 17-year-old body, Jonathan speaks up from the back seat: "I'd beat him up. Katie has her license--she could drive away. We'd be fine."

And I feel much better now knowing there's a strategy in place.

A New Beginning

2011-01-01T17:33:00.000-05:00

Regardless of how many new years we might have experienced, each one, in some sense, marks a new beginning. On January 1, many of us allow our minds to jump ahead to December 31 and guess how life might be different for us 364 days later. Some of us have hopes, and some of us fears. All of us, though, expect that we will experience change.

The book of John reveals a beautiful beginning in chapter 2 that shows the amazing changes that Jesus brought to the world--we still experience the results of this change over two thousand years later.

In John 2, Jesus is attending a wedding with his newfound disciples. There weren't many who knew yet about Jesus and the history-making, life-changing ministry he was about to embark upon. John the Baptist knew who he was, and John, Andrew, Peter, Nathaniel, and Phillip had been introduced to the Messiah. Jesus' mother, Mary, indicates that she has some notion of her divine Son's capabilities in this chapter.

The wedding is in Cana, and apparently Mary feels some responsibility for coordinating food and drink because when a huge problem arises, she approaches her son for help. Probably worse than any modern broach of etiquette we can imagine has just occurred: the wine has run out, and this will be a tremendous embarrassment for the host.

Mary turns to her son and tells him the problem, and he--seemingly with some reluctance because he reminds her it is not yet his time--instructs the servants to fill six large water jars--about 120 gallons, some scholars believe. Next Jesus instructs the servants to draw some of the water out and serve it to the master of ceremonies, who observes that most people would serve the good wine first, and later the worse. But for some reasons, this host has held back the good wine until now.

As we learn when we study John, nothing is just about what it seems on the surface. It's true--Jesus turned the water in the jars into wine. And yet what happens in this new beginning is about so much more than that. One of the things that John continually reminds his readers is that this Jesus is the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy, and in the Old Testament, wine is often associated with joy. Psalm 104:15 tells us that God gives plants for man to cultivate so that he can bring forth wine to gladden his heart. In Isaiah, we're told that the great feast the Lord will one day prepare for us will include well-aged wine. Wine is associated with joy and God's blessing at times. So in restoring the wine at the wedding in Cana, Jesus brings the joy that would have been missing from the wedding feast.

A couple of other important things to gather from this first miracle at the beginning of Jesus' ministry. He provides abundant amounts of wine. The party went from no wine to more than the hosts and guests ever could have asked for or imagined. The other thing is the wine's quality: Could the Creator of all things, the one who sends good and perfect gifts, provide anything less than the best wine?

We see from his first miracle, that Jesus means to bring joy--abundantly and greater than any other joy we might experience. May the beautiful news of this beginning of Jesus' ministry shape the beginning of this year: despite any changes we may experience in 2011--good or bad--Jesus, by whom all things were created, is the source of our joy--a joy greater than we could ever ask for or imagine, a joy that satisfies like nothing else ever could.

May you have a blessed new year, filled with abundant joy!

The Challenges of Gift Giving

2010-12-27T21:58:00.002-05:00

Another Christmas has come and gone, and with it the pressures of Christmas shopping and gift giving. It's not that I'm a stingy person--I love to be generous and give gifts to the people I love. But I don't like feeling like Christmas gift giving has evolved into a duty, the challenge of buying things for people who have everything that they need--as well as a lot of stuff that they don't need. It's the tension of avoiding Christmas becoming all about the physical things we can buy for each other while focusing on the reality that the Word became flesh--our God took on a physical body to attain for us the spiritual blessings that none of us could ever buy.

I wouldn't want to do away with gift giving, I suppose. Gift giving motivated by love can be meaningful and joyful. But I yearn, like blogger Amy Julia Becker, for a time when gifts meant more because they were something beyond the everyday. Amy Julia explains:

My idealized version of Christmas comes from “Little House on the Prairie,” where Christmas involved treats and presents that weren’t a part of every day life. Laura and Mary couldn’t imagine anything better than a stocking with a tin cup, a peppermint stick and a shiny new penny. I would love for our Christmas celebration to approximate their sense of delight. But I can only imagine one way for Christmas morning to become a time of celebrating the material world and humbly receiving from one another. We would have to live more simply for the other 364 days of the year.

In the world of the Little House family, when an orange and peppermint stick were once-in-a-year events, it was relatively easy to find gifts that would delight the receivers. Those peppermint sticks and oranges didn't have to compete with smart phones, flat-screen TVs, game systems, and e-readers. And the relationships among family members satisfied then what many of us try to satisfy today with things that drive us away from meaningful human relationships. What could possibly provide this level of delight in our fast-food, Facebook, texting, smart-phone world, where our problem is finding space for all of the stuff we already have, never mind room for all the new stuff we don't need--or even want?

This year, I think my daughter Katie had the right idea. A college student, she is operating on a limited budget. We encourage her to use whatever money she earns from babysitting jobs, photography clients, and her on-campus job in the library for the things she needs: tuition, books, day to day expenses. She wanted to give gifts to her family, but she didn't have much to work with. She adopted a chapter from the Little House books and bought each of us small treats that she knew we would enjoy. For Henry and me, a small box of Belgium chocolates. For her brother, some kind of Japanese soda with a marble in it that is released when you open the bottle. She gave similar treats to her grandparents. I loved watching her hand out her well-thought-out treats and the delight she obviously felt as we received them with gratitude. Things that aren't part of the every day, things carefully thought out and lovingly given. Things that didn't cost much in dollars.

And then there was Jonathan, whose face lit up when he opened up the package with the Answers in Genesis book that he asked for. The truth is, he would have been thrilled to have found a laptop or expensive game system under the tree. But if he had, I'm not sure he would have found the book so exciting, and I'd rather he learn, for now, the value of the gift of learning.

So while I still haven't entirely figured this gift-giving thing out, some good things happened this year at Christmas. Next Christmas, I'm sure, will be the one where I figure it all out.

An Exciting Evening at Our House

2010-12-15T20:42:00.001-05:00

It's been really crazy lately--one of those stretches when we barely have time to breathe, when one event barely ends and the next is beginning, when Henry and I found ourselves asking the dreaded question, "Will we ever have a date night again?" and truly thinking that it's possible that we may not. And that question was followed by "Why does everything happen all at once?"

So tonight, I left work a little late because I have a project with a looming deadline that I probably won't make, ran a few errands, and arrived home around 6:00. Jonathan was at his grandparents' house, and Katie doesn't come home for Christmas break until tomorrow night. Just Henry and me. And nothing we had to do, no place we had to go, no one to transport anywhere.

We didn't get any meat out of the freezer for dinner, so Henry suggested we just clean up some leftovers, which made dinner--and clean-up--quick and easy. In one of those this-almost-never-happens moments, we realized that it was 7:00--and really didn't have anything we had to do. And this is how the conversation went:

Annette: I feel like I should be doing something.
Henry: We should go for a walk.
Annette: It's 24 degrees outside.
Henry: People mall walk. We should mall walk.
Annette: Where do you want to go?
Henry: Meijer?
Annette: I don't think we'd be able to get much exercise there. I should just go to the mall and go Christmas shopping.
Henry: What are you going to get?
Annette: I don't know.
Henry: Then don't go.
Annette: What are you going to do? Do you need to work?
Henry: We could . . . relax.
Annette: Well, what are you going to do to relax?
Henry: We could read . . . watch Doc Martin, Monk, or Cranford.
Annette: Hmmm . . . read . . . I could blog! And we could listen to music.

And so it's official. We've turned into those people who don't know how to relax.We even have to work hard to figure out how we're going to relax. And even as I type this, I'm thinking that there must be something that I should be doing. But I'm just going to breathe and dream of that great Christmas tradition--the one with Mama in her kerchief and Papa in his cap, just settling down for a long winter's nap. And maybe I'll read.

Communication and Culture

2010-12-01T09:07:00.000-05:00

My doom-and-gloom perspective on contemporary means of communication stems, at least in part, from the history minor in me. Just a few examples from history demonstrate well how our means of communication and our use of language shape us culturally—for good or bad. An early example of communication misused occurs in Genesis 11, where the “whole earth was of one language, and of one speech.” The people used their language to work together to build a tower whose top would reach to heaven so that they would not be scattered over the earth. And because that was not God’s plan for humanity, he addressed this misuse of communication to confuse the people’s tongues, so that they were forced to scatter over the earth. This misuse is corrected by God in Acts 2, where the people gather and hear the gospel proclaimed in their own languages. In this incident we see the greatest use of language—the proclamation of the good news of the gospel—and we see language being used for its highest purpose.

If we skip ahead a few centuries we see the abuse of communication again as the Roman church conducted religious instruction in Latin, so that there was no need or opportunity for most people to learn to read. Only the highly educated clergy had the opportunity to learn to read, and even when they did, the options of what to read were limited. And that is what is so amazing about the Reformation and the invention of the printing press. Now there were books to read, and the Reformers, starting with Luther, saw the need to translate the Scriptures into the common tongue. Once again, communication was used positively to shape culture, as there was now opportunity, incentive, and the ability to communicate more widely the truths of God’s Word. Theology, education, the sciences, politics—all were developed more fully because of the ability to communicate more deeply and more widely than ever before.

And now we have Facebook, texting, e-mail, Twitter—a whole new world of communicative tools that allow us to communicate more widely, but not more deeply. And so I wonder how this communication will shape us—is shaping us. The saddest thing I’ve recently heard is a situation where a young woman has moved away from home. There is a rift between her and her parents, who love her very much. A couple of weeks ago, she e-mailed them to tell them that she is pregnant. Her e-mail announcement to them was followed by a proud Facebook announcement to the world. The parents are devastated. The young woman should be.

I’ve read a couple of articles in the last week that are noteworthy. One is an article that looks at how teens are using Facebook and texting and how it is affecting their ability to think and learn. I’ve often wondered why people are so drawn in by Facebook, which seems to serve to let people know what near strangers ate for breakfast or what chores they've accomplished this morning. One teen in the article gave the most insightful answer to that question that I’ve read, explaining why he has a hard time getting his homework done: "I know I can read a book, but then I'm up and checking Facebook," he says, adding: "Facebook is amazing because it feels like you are doing something and you are not doing anything. It is the absence of doing something, but you feel gratified anyway." I don’t think there’s anything I could add to that. Read the rest of the article—especially if you have children—here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/21/technology/21brain.html

The second article (http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/commentary/la-oe-gabler-zuckerberg-20101128,0,7889675.story) talks about communication in history, and contrasts the changes between the invention of Gutenberg (the printing press) and Zuckerberg (Facebook):

"Gutenberg's Revolution transformed the world by broadening it, by proliferating ideas. Zuckerberg's Revolution also may change consciousness, only this time by razing what Gutenberg had helped erect. The more we text and Twitter and 'friend,' abiding by the haiku-like demands of social networking, the less likely we are to have the habit of mind or the means of expressing ourselves in interesting and complex ways.

"That makes Zuckerberg the anti-Gutenberg. He has facilitated a typography in which complexity is all but impossible and meaninglessness reigns supreme. To the extent that ideas matter, we are no longer amusing ourselves to death. We are texting ourselves to death."

So what happens to a culture that misuses communication, that doesn’t even have the lofty goal of building a tower to heaven, that seeks only instant gratification? Perhaps a historical analysis of the culture of Rome can answer that.

John’s Thesis

2010-11-17T22:14:00.003-05:00

"But these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name."
~John 20:31

I began to learn to write in Mrs. Grosh's freshman composition class. As in most freshman composition classes, we began writing paragraphs: description, persuasion, comparison/contrast. The paragraph was to begin, of course, with a thesis statement—an assertion of something that had to be proven. And then came the hard part: Mrs. Grosh insisted that every sentence in the paragraph had to support the thesis. If it didn't, it didn't belong in the paragraph. It doesn't sound that hard, but finding a thesis statement that was neither too broad nor too narrow and then shaping sentences so that they somehow tied back to the thesis could be a challenge. And Mrs. Grosh was one of those tough but amazing teachers who had high expectations for her students. I think I finally started getting it when I took advanced composition with her my sophomore year in college.

The apostle John would have done well in Mrs. Grosh's composition classes. He establishes his thesis in his first chapter, writes most of the rest of his gospel to demonstrate his thesis, and then wraps it up with the conclusion of John 20:31. And with every word that he writes, every incident that he details for us, every character that we meet along the way, John is masterfully demonstrating his thesis: that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God.

The Bible study I attend started studying the gospel of John this fall, and after three meetings, we're still on the first chapter. It's a fascinating book, and there are seemingly endless things that have been written about it and that I could write about here.

So how does John make his case that this Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God in the famous first eighteen verses—his prologue? He begins by telling us that in the beginning (reminding his readers of the book of Genesis) was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. His Greek readers would have said, "Right—we know about the Word, the logos. It's the ordering principle behind all things. It's the source of reason and wisdom in the universe. Nothing new here, John."

His Jewish readers would also have responded positively to the idea that there was a Word in the beginning. This concept had rich meaning for them as well. For them, "Word" was always attached to deed, so that God spoke a word and brought creation into being. The Old Testament prophets would speak the Word, and something would happen. Because they wanted to avoid using the name of God for fear of blaspheming, Jews adopted other words that were a kind of code for God. One of those was "the Word." John had nothing new for them, either.

John tells us that the Word existed from the beginning—before all things. He also says the Word was "with God," subtly informing us that Jesus is a distinct person in the Trinity. Finally, he says the Word was God, and since we understand that the Word is Jesus, we see that Jesus is fully divine; all that can be said about God the Father can be said about God the Son. He goes on use words like light and life, again reminding us of Genesis 1, to tell us more about this Word.

But then, in verse 14, John writes the shocking thing that would have made both Jew and Greek—and us today—sit up and take notice: "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth."

For thirteen verses, John has been telling us that this Word was divine, with all of the qualities that both Jews and Greeks would expect a divine being to have. And now, all of a sudden, John tells his readers that the "Word became flesh and dwelt among us." And that's the surprise—that God would come down, take on human flesh, and dwell among men.

Why would God do that? That's what John will be explaining for the rest of his gospel.

Jonathan 1-2-3

2010-11-04T21:35:00.000-04:00

Interesting fact about Jonathan: he was born at 1:23 am on November 3, 1993, which makes him seventeen years old yesterday. Is Jonathan as easy as 1-2-3? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. When we go to parent-teacher conferences and we hear things like this: (1) Jonathan is a great Christian kid, (2)Jonathan will be a great success someday, (3) Jonathan is a joy to have in class, we think yes, he is as easy as 1-2-3. When he needs new clothes and I ask him if he wants to come with me to the mall to pick them out, he tells me to just get what I think is good--and that is pretty easy. If the Republicans, Red Wings, or Tigers win, he's happy; if they don't, he's not. Easy. On his pizza--pepperoni only. It doesn't get much easier than that.

But when you hear Jonathan talk apologetics or politics, you know there's more to him than a simple 1-2-3. When he's listening to a sermon in church or answering questions during family devotions and I wonder how he could ever have possibly known that answer, I realize that there's more than 1, 2, and 3 multiplied many times over there.

There are a few other ways that Jonathan isn't as easy as 1-2-3 at times, but I won't mention them here. I'm just very thankful that on November 3, 1993, Jonathan was born at 1:23 am. Happy birthday!

Samuel Rutherford,or When the Past Comes Back to Haunt You But It Turns Out to Be a Friendly Ghost

2010-10-28T22:04:00.000-04:00

I groaned a little inside when I was handed the next Profiles in Spiritualty project to edit a couple of months ago. Each title in the Profiles in Spirituality series briefly introduces a significant theologian, like John Calvin or Jonathan Edwards, and then provides some brief excerpts from their writings in somewhat updated language to make them accessible to lay readers. This one was to be on Samuel Rutherford, a Scottish theologian who lived during the seventeenth century.

Rutherford is no stranger to me. In fact, back in the eighties when my first husband was writing his master's thesis on Samuel Rutherford, our small apartment was filled with books and notecards devoted to him. Most conversations with Jon somehow involved this Scottish Covenanter, who was invading my space, as only someone else's master's thesis subject can. I hoped that I might not hear his name again during my lifetime, but here was Mr. Rutherford again, this time for some one on one with me.

And I have to say that he and I have become friends. He lived during a time of great political and theological turmoil, when the Scottish Reformed (Covenanters) were being thrown into prison and even executed for being faithful to God's Word. Rutherford, a pastor, was banished from his congregation in Anwoth to Aberdeen for writing and speaking against Arminianism. But this brought about his most famous writings, as he left behind over three hundred letters, most of them during this time of banishment, written to provide pastoral counsel to his beloved congregation.

Rutherford wrote many sermons and treatises, and he was in attendance when the Westminster Assembly wrote its famous Confession. But he is best known for his letters. And in a day and age when most communication is electronic--often in 140 characters or fewer--Rutherford's letters show the value of well-executed, carefully written communication that remains instructive for us today. I wonder how many tweets we'll still be reading five hundred years from now.

This is one of my favorite excerpts from Rutherford's letters, written to comfort a woman who had suffered the deaths of several children:

If your Ladyship is not changed (as I hope you are not), I believe you esteem yourself to be of those whom God has tried these many years and refined as silver. But, Madam, I will show your Ladyship a privilege that others want and you have, in this case. Such as are in prosperity and are fatted with earthly joys and increased with children and friends, though the Word of God is indeed written to such for their instruction, yet to you who are in trouble (spare me, Madam, to say this), from whom the Lord hath taken many children and whom He hath exercised otherwise, there are some chapters, some particular promises in the Word of God, made in a most special manner, which should never have been yours, as they now are, if you had your portion in this life as others. And, therefore, all the comforts, promises, and mercies God offers to the afflicted are as so many love letters written to you. Take them to you, Madam, and claim your right, and do not be robbed. It is no small comfort that God has written some scriptures to you that He has not written to others. You seem in this to be envied rather than pitied; and you are indeed in this, like people of another world and those that are above the ordinary rank of mankind, whom our King and Lord, our Bridegroom Jesus, in His love letter to His well-beloved spouse, has named beside all the rest. He has written comforts and His hearty commendations in Isaiah 54:4–5 and Psalm 147:2–3 to you. Read these and the like, and think your God is like a friend that sends a letter to a whole house and family but speaks in His letter to some by name that are dearest to Him in the house. You are, then, Madam, of the dearest friends of the Bridegroom. If it were lawful, I would envy you, that God honored you so above many of His dear children. Therefore, Madam, your part is, in this case (seeing God takes nothing from you but that which He is to supply with His own presence), to desire your Lord to know His own room and take it even upon Him to come in, in the room of dead children. “Jehovah, know Thy own place and take it to Thee,” is all you have to say.

Madam, I persuade myself that this world is to you a strange inn, and you are like a traveler who has his bundle upon his back and his staff in his hand and his feet upon the door-threshold. Go forward, honorable and elect lady, in the strength of your Lord (let the world bide at home and keep the house), with your face toward Him who longs more for a sight of you than you can do for Him. Before long, He will see us. I hope to see you laugh as cheerfully after noon as you have mourned before noon. The hand of the Lord, the hand of the Lord be with you in your journey. What have you to do here? This is not your mountain of rest. Arise, then, and set your foot up the mountain; go up out of the wilderness, leaning upon the shoulder of your Beloved (Song 8:5). If you knew the welcome that waits for you when you come home, you would hasten your pace; for you shall see your Lord put up His own holy hand to your face and wipe all tears from your eyes; and I believe, then you shall have some joy of heart.

It's Pretty Simple

2010-10-25T22:14:00.001-04:00

The midterm elections we've been anticipating will finally be here next Tuesday. For those who still aren't sure how they're going to cast their vote, columnist Peggy Noonan brings clarity to the issues in her October 22, 2010 column:

"This election is about one man, Barack Obama, who fairly or not represents the following: the status quo, Washington, leftism, Nancy Pelosi, Fannie and Freddie, and deficits in trillions, not billions.
Everyone who votes is going to be pretty much voting yay or nay on all of that. And nothing can change that story line now."

So there. It's as simple as that.

10 Great Things about Fall

2010-10-21T21:30:00.003-04:00

Katie Selden Photography

Making Grandma's pumpkin muffin recipe and filling the house with the fragrance of cinnamon.
Gray skies accented with gold, red, and black.
Geese announcing that they are flying over our house every evening about 6:30.
Feeling just a little bit chilly when I go out to my car in the morning and evening.
Pumpkins and mums on my front porch.
Needing the covers when I crawl into bed.
Leaf dances in the woods behind the building where I work.
Candy corn.
The faint smell of smoke in the night air.
Re-acquainting myself with my sweaters.

Isn't this photo great? My daughter with hair the color of autumn leaves took it. You can see more of her photography here.

They’re Here!

2010-10-18T21:17:00.032-04:00

I'm always very excited when books that I've edited actually become real, live books. And there are two that have just arrived that I really loved working on because they were great books to begin with, and the authors, in both cases, were a true joy to work with.

The first, Meeting Jesus at the Feast, is a publication of Reformed Fellowship, an organization very dear to me because its president is my own Henry. I fell in love with the book the first time I looked at the manuscript. The author, John Sittema, truly is a craftsman with words, and his insights about how the Old Testament feasts are fulfilled in Jesus Christ are often profound. He masterfully shows readers how the "New is in the Old concealed; the Old is in the New revealed" by taking a close look at the Old Testament feasts and showing how the Passover, the Sabbath, and the firstfruits (and the other feasts as well) are fulfilled in Christ and His ministry. If you're looking for a well-written Old Testament study that will enlighten your understanding of Scripture from start to finish, consider Meeting Jesus at the Feast, which you can purchase here.

The second title that I'm privileged to have worked on is Portrait of Paul, by Jeremy Walker and Rob Ventura. Jeremy has now become my favorite UK author to work with, with his clear communication of biblical truth, his great sense of humor, his way with words, and his attention to the details. Here's the publisher's description for the book, which is cleverly written to both pastors and laypeople:

What does a true pastor look like, and what constitutes a faithful ministry? How can we identify the life and labors of one called by God to serve in the church of Jesus Christ? To address these questions, Rob Ventura and Jeremy Walker examine how the apostle Paul describes his pastoral relation to the people of God in Colossians 1:24–2:5. By discussing these essential attitudes, qualities, and characteristics of a faithful minister of Christ, A Portrait of Paul provides gospel ministers an example of what they should be, and demonstrates for churches the kind of pastors they will seek if they desire men after God's own heart.

October is pastor appreciation month, and you still have time to let your pastor know how much you appreciate him. Portrait of Paul would make an excellent gift, and you can purchase it here. And for the next forty-eight hours, you can get this book, regularly priced at $18, for $5.

Mean, Naughty Pharaoh and the Plague of Owies

2010-10-05T21:51:00.002-04:00

It's been a while since I spent some quality time with four-year-olds, so when I was asked to substitute teach for the preschool Sunday school class for a few weeks, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I wasn't even quite sure any more what four-year-olds could do and understand. But I found the four-year-olds to be lots of fun, and Moses has never been more interesting to me than when I was telling his story to them.

The first week was a little disconcerting for the students. It was only the second week of Sunday school for the season, and already they had a different teacher from the one they had had the previous week. So I explained that their teacher had just had a new baby, and she needed to rest up for a few weeks before she came back to be their teacher. We went on with our lesson about Moses and the burning bush, and everything went pretty well. I was trying to explain to them that it was a miraculous thing that the bush never burned up. I picked up a paper and asked them, "What would happen if I lit this paper on fire? What would it look like after it burned for awhile?" Daniel wanted me to demonstrate what it would look like right then and there. I suggested we should just use our imaginations. I also learned in week 1 how quickly class time is over when we got the five-minute warning and we hadn't even started our crafts yet.

Week 2 had the kids asking me when "Mrs. Ybema" would be back. It didn't feel like a great start to the lesson, especially because Mrs. Ybema had been their teacher last year when they were three. I told them that Mrs. Tripp would be back as soon as she had rested up some more from having her baby. While the kids were coloring a picture of some children, Kristina suddenly spoke up and said, "Boys are brownish." She was, in fact, coloring the boy in her picture brown. I said, "Look at Jacob (the lone boy in the class). He isn't brownish." But Kristina insisted, "Boys are brownish." Good to know, Kristina.

Finally, last week, the kids seemed to be comfortable with me. During song time, they turned their little faces to watch me as we sang songs and did the motions, wanting to get it right. Nobody asked when the teacher would be back. In fact, Morgan, who is finally learning that I'm the one who is supposed to talk and she is the one who is supposed to listen, called me teacher. We learned about the first nine plagues that God sent to judge mean, naughty pharaoh (Kristina's apt description—he was mean and naughty). We also decided to change the name of the plague of boils to the plague of owies. And if you're four, a plague of owies is much more terrible than a plague of boils.

So now my time of service is over. Mrs. Tripp has rested up from having her baby and will be taking the class back. And even though I've been with them for only three weeks, I will miss the four-year-olds: Jacob's beautiful brown eyes and blond curls; Morgan's chatter; Emily's answer to every question (God—which, in fact, is the answer, and I hope she never forgets it); Kristina's four-year-old sense of humor; and Grace and Daniel and their cuteness. We've learned a lot of important things about Moses, God's power, and God's love for His people. And that boys are brownish.

An Open Letter

2010-09-22T22:05:00.003-04:00

To Fashion Designers, Clothing Buyers, and Any Others Who Are Responsible for the Pathetic Selection of Women's Clothing in Department Stores Today:

I've just wasted three hours of my life in another futile attempt to buy clothes. And you would think that after so many such futile attempts, I would give up—except for one thing. My personal code of ethics—and the law—require me to wear clothes when I'm in public. The only thing that keeps me coming back is this: my desire not to be naked.

So here's a question for those of you who are making, designing, and selling clothes for women: do you have any idea what most women look like, what sizes they are, and what they want to wear? Life has taken its toll. Age, babies, the occasional order of French fries and desserts, and too little time and money to spare to spend it at the gym have left us wanting to dress in more than a piece of thin knit material that becomes translucent when stretched across a body that admittedly weighs 10 to 20 pounds more than it should. And while some of us have just given in and purchased the paper-thin garments you offer, others of us would prefer not to go around looking like one of those Pillbury biscuit cans that has just popped open, with the dough hanging out the edges. And even though we may be a little pudgy, we would still like to look nice and feel attractive. And I would be very happy to buy clothing that would achieve that—if only you would make it.

Another thing—why do you make twenty varieties of the same three styles for years on end? I have enough of the one-piece- that-looks-like-two shirt and vest sets. I'm still wearing the same ones that I bought several years ago when the style became popular, and I don't want any more. It's time to move on. And what's the deal with all of the cardigans again? I'm sick to death of layering—either because everything I buy is cut so low that modesty demands I wear something underneath or simply because the style requires it. And I WILL NOT wear leggings. And most of you out there past the age of 25 shouldn't be wearing them either. Give it up with the leggings!

And while I realize that this is a world gone crazy casual, there are still a few of us out there who are expected to wear something a little nicer than jeans and a hoodie to the office. I'm good with that; in fact, I prefer it. And if you were to pull out some of your old catalogs from a few years ago you would find an article called a skirt. I like wearing those too on occasion. Perhaps you could spend some of the energy directed toward coming up with another pattern for one-piece shirt and vest sets toward revisiting the skirt.

Clothing manufacturing industry, you are a disappointment to me. And yet I need you. And, believe it or not, you need me. Have you ever gone into a store at the close of a season and seen the racks and racks of leftover clothing that is now marked 75 percent off? Think about why that may be for a couple of minutes. While I don't think a government takeover of the fashion industry would solve the problem, something must be done. Soon. My clothes are wearing out.

Ten Things I Want My Kids to Know about Facebook

2010-09-13T21:56:00.003-04:00

Facebook is only a tool. By itself it is neither evil nor good. What you do with it is evil or good.
Think of Facebook as a room full of people—some of them you don't know at all, some you know a little bit, and some you are very close to, like family and friends. Only say things on Facebook that you would say in that room full of people. For instance, if you walked into that room and started telling everyone how mad you were at someone, you'd get some strange looks at the least. You'd probably get some stares if you shared intimate details about your health or your feelings for someone else in the room as well.
When you post something on Facebook, whether words or images, ask yourself if what you're putting there will bring shame to Christ, to whom you belong.
Friends come very cheaply on Facebook. It takes little effort to post a word of sympathy in a time of difficulty or a word of congratulations in good times. Real friends will sit and cry with you when you are sad, and they will hug you and smile when they are happy for you. There are no hugs and tears on Facebook.
You can't be a real friend to someone on Facebook. Don't ever think that when you've written a note of sadness or encouragement on someone's wall that you've done your part and been a true friend.
Is what you're looking at on Facebook causing you to sin? Are you envious? Lusting? Angry? Better to pluck out your Facebook account than to sin.
Are you wasting time to visit Facebook? Are you visiting on an employer's time? Are you spending time on Facebook rather than doing something else you should be doing—like homework, spending time with a friend or family member, reading your Bible and praying?
Remember that by what you post you can be a stumbling block to others, causing them to sin.
Many people use Facebook much like a manufacturer of a product uses advertising--to create an identity for a product, and in this case, for themselves. You know about that person only what he or she wants you to know. So these people use Facebook to show you that they are popular, sexy, successful, or have a perfect family life. They create a false identity and find value in the affirmations of others. Don't use Facebook for that. Remember that your identity and value are in Christ, not in what you say about yourself or what others say about you. Don't seek affirmation on Facebook because the responses you get will be shallow and leave you craving more.
It might not be possible for people to identify you as a Christian by everything you post on Facebook—and that's okay—but don't post something that would cast doubt on the fact that you are a Christian.

Seeing Jesus

2010-08-30T21:46:00.003-04:00

In John 12, some Greeks have come to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. They approach Philip and tell him, "Sir, we would like to see Jesus." And ever since, God's people come together to hear the Word proclaimed, desiring to see Jesus. Sometimes we do. The bearer of the good news preaches mightily, beautifully, truthfully, passionately, so that we recognize our own unworthiness and our Savior's great worth. And we cry at the wonder of it all—that this perfect One—before time ever began—chose us to be His and established an elaborate plan to make us His own. We cry at our own unworthiness and His supreme worth, and we wonder how it could be that He could ever have an interest in us, never mind love us. And then our tears recede and we're filled with joy as we believe—again—that the good news is true: He does love us, has died for our sins, and has risen so that one day we can live with Him. We know in that moment that this is reality. The rest—from the bad economy and high taxes, to the failed carpool that leaves us wondering how our child will get to school, all the way down to the fact that we're cold in August in the out-of-control air conditioning and we have no sweater—fades away, and all we see is Jesus. And we think that this must be what heaven is like, in some way, the truth capturing our hearts and minds so that we focus on the one reality that truly matters—the beauty and glory of our Savior, Jesus Christ. And we wish that we could stay there and listen forever and marvel at it all—as we will in heaven.

At Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary's annual conference last weekend—The Beauty and Glory of Christ—the preachers showed us Jesus, again and again. It was beautiful. Get a sample of it here, with Iain D. Campbell's "He Is Altogether Lovely." Your response will be "hallelujah" (meaning "praise God"), which speaker Dr. James Grier explained to us on Saturday morning is the one word in the Bible that is a command that we fulfill just by saying it (think about that). I noticed that the rest of the addresses were available on SermonAudio.com as well. None will disappoint.

OJ, D&W, and the Sabbath

2010-08-23T21:01:00.003-04:00

It was a small victory, but it's one worth sharing. Besides, I told the cashier that I'd tell people about what happened. So here it is . . .

Last Friday, I went to one of my favorite local grocers, the Knapp's Corner D&W Fresh Market on the northeast side of Grand Rapids, to pick up some lunch and a couple of other items I needed. D&W is one of those rare grocery stores that is a pleasure to be in. You can forget that grocery shopping is a chore at D&W, with its clean new cutting-edge look, gourmet food items that you don't buy but that are fun to look at, and excellent wine selection. It also features a Starbucks that, without fail, offers samples every time I'm there. It costs more to buy groceries at D&W, but you're not just getting groceries, you're getting a shopping experience.

As I was walking in, I noticed a banner hanging from the ceiling, advertising a number of specials. The one that caught my eye was the carton of Tropicana orange juice for 99 cents a carton, limit three. Normally I get excited when it's on sale for two for five dollars, so you can imagine my thrill as I realized the great savings I would experience.

A young guy was bringing in some carts, and he watched as I viewed the banner and turned to grab a cart since I would now be adding three cartons of OJ to the couple of small items I planned to purchase. He said, "It's chicken today," and I simultaneously wondered what he was talking about and realized as I looked—again—at the sign that D&W was offering a super sale on one particular item per day, and the OJ sale was for Sunday.

I looked at the cart guy and said, despairingly, "I don't shop on Sunday." And I don't. This is one of the ways our family observes the Sabbath. We don't, among other things, make purchases at stores on Sunday. He nearly said, "Oh . . . you're [one of those, he started to say] (here in Grand Rapids, home of the Dutch Reformed, there are still a few of us old-fashioned Sabbath observers) . . . maybe if you ask at the front desk they'll give you a rain check.

I picked up the items I needed and headed for the deli to pick up a sandwich. I had already decided that the Sabbath OJ sale would just be one of those minor disappointments that I'd rally from pretty quickly, and I was going to just let it go. But as my friendly cashier was ringing up my items, I had a sudden burst of something, and I explained my situation: "I shop here often, we drink only Tropicana OJ (it's true—we don't like others), and I'd love to take advantage of the sale, but I don't shop on Sunday."

"Let me mention it to my manager," she said. When she returned a minute later, she told me that the manager said I could have the sale price—today. The next thing I knew, I was the happy owner of three cartons of Tropicana OJ with vitamin C and lots of pulp, promising to tell everyone I knew about the gracious management of D&W.

And so I'm keeping my promise. And knowing that I got Sabbath OJ on Friday for 99 cents will make it taste that much sweeter.

Underlining

2010-08-17T22:05:00.002-04:00

I'm an underliner. There are people out there (my husband among them) who wouldn't dream of putting a mark in a book. But I learned way back in my college English major days that underlining—with its accompanying notes in the margin in pencil—was much more effective than trying to take notes. It's a record of what made that book good, of what I was thinking of when I was reading it, of what I learned. One of my favorites is an old, beat-up copy of Huckleberry Finn that I bought as a college freshman. I loaned it to friend after I used it, so it has her notes alongside of mine. It's one of my greatest book treasures.

Here are some of the passages I've underlined from books I pulled off the shelf:

From Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis:

"The gods have been accused by you. Now's their turn."
"I cannot hope for mercy."
"Infinite hopes—and fears—may both be yours. Be sure that, whatever else you get, you will not get justice."
"Are the gods not just?"
"Oh no, child. What would become of us if they were?"

From Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, as Huck reflects on the tarring and feathering of the duke and the king:

"Well, it made me sick to see it; and I was sorry for them poor pitiful rascals, it seemed like I couldn't ever feel any hardness against them any more in the world. It was a dreadful thing to see. Human beings can be awful cruel to one another."

From Calvin's Institutes:

"Those for whom prophetic doctrine is tasteless ought to be thought of as lacking taste buds."

From Too Good to Be True by Michael Horton:

"The good news is never that one has died, but that death has been ultimately conquered by the Lord of life. At the graveside, neither optimism nor pessimism; sentimentalism or stoicism, tell us what is happening here. Only Jesus' cross and resurrection define the event for us."

Why did I underline these passages? What made them stand out? I underline passages that are full of meaning—that help me see old truths in a new way. I also underline passages that are integral to the message of the book. I also like to underline beautifully written passages. I underline things that I want to remember. I remember being shocked as I read Lewis and realized that God, in fact, does not serve us justice because we would be destroyed. And Twain, via Huck, reminds us of the depravity of man. Calvin's turn of phrase is both clever and truthful. And Horton expounds a profound and comforting truth for anyone who has ever faced death.

So when I learned that the folks at Amazon are keeping an online list of the most highlighted passages in Kindle books, I had to take a peek. If you make the assumption that book readers are thinking people, people who like to learn and who enjoy interacting with ideas, you can form some impressions about our current culture by seeing which books are most read and which ideas in those books are noteworthy to readers.
Which books are people reading? Some that come up often are Outliers (Malcolm Gladwell); The Last Lecture (Randy Pausch); The Shack (William Young); Cutting for Stone (Abraham Verghese); Eat, Pray, Love (Elizabeth Gilbert).

What are the profound thoughts that people are highlighting in these books, the thoughts that have gripped them as they read? Here's a sampling, and I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions about the quality of the thought life of both today's writers and readers:

"Practice isn't the thing you do once you're good. It's the thing you do that makes you good."—Malcolm Gladwell

"Life, too, is like that. You live it forward, but understand it backward."—Abraham Verghese

"'Pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly.' She waited a moment, allowing her words to settle. 'And if left unresolved for very long, you can almost forget that you were ever created to fly in the first place.'" –William Young

"If you work hard enough and assert yourself, and use your mind and imagination, you can shape the world to your desires." –Malcolm Gladwell

"You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight."—Elizabeth Gilbert

So what do you underline?

Great Stuff: On Gays, Gay "Marriage," and Why Young People Are Leaving the Church

2010-08-14T15:18:00.000-04:00

I found lots of interesting things to read this week, all them fairly brief. Right now, because of all the commotion regarding the overturning of Proposition 8 in California, writers have some interesting things to say about that subject. Carl Trueman, at Reformation 21has an interesting piece on what we, as Christians, need to be thinking about as culture overwhelmingly comes to accept homosexuality and gay "marriage" as legitimate lifestyle choices.

And you may note that I've been putting quotation marks around the word marriage when I write gay "marriage." That's because of an intriguing piece at American Thinker that makes the case that our argument against gay marriage should be that it doesn't exist. I've never heard this line of reasoning before, and it's compelling, especially among those who wouldn't accept biblical arguments against homosexuality and gay marriage.

And finally, we hear that young people are leaving the church in droves, despite the current focus on relevancy and the efforts to be authentic. In this Wall Street Journal column, Brett McCracken, whose book on this subject recently released, offers some interesting insights.

The Idol of Me

2010-08-09T21:52:00.002-04:00

Blogger Tim Challies has some interesting insights in his post today entitled "The Idol of Communication." He makes the point that with the astronomic number of blogs, books published, text messages, e-mails, and letters sent, communication dominates our world. He observes:

By all appearances we have made communication into a kind of cultural idol. In most cases it is not Facebook or the cell phone that is the idol. Instead, they serve as enablers, as enhancers, of the greater idol of communication. Christians have proven to be far from immune to this idol, from following along as the culture around us becomes obsessed with communication and dedicates vast amounts of time and resources to it. Christians will do well to remember that in God’s economy communication is but a means to the far greater, far more noble end of enjoying God so we can bring glory to him. Communication can detract from this purpose just as easily as it can serve this purpose.

Challies offers up some interesting points, noting how communication, via media like cell phones and Facebook, consumes users' lives. In fact, he points out, communication itself has become an idol.

I wouldn't disagree with him, but I think I'd take it one step further. Today, we often point to money as an idol, and so it often is. And while some people hoard money and worship it, more often it is a means to obtain the material possessions that people ultimately want and then worship as idols--houses, boats, cars, expensive vacations, clothes, technology. In a similar sense, communication becomes the tool for obtaining the ultimate idol.

We've always had the ability to communicate, but, as Challies points out, "the scope of [communication], the speed of it and the reach of it" have changed. "It is now the dominant paradigm through which we live our lives."

So as I observe teens (and even not teens) devoting their energies to texting, I note that one of the things they're accomplishing is reminding someone who isn't with them that they're there. That absent person's response implies significance, importance: "You're so important to me that even though I'm not physically with you, I'm still communicating with you as much as I want. If I'm important to you, you'll text back." So you do, because if you fail to acknowledge the sender's significance, she might someday fail to acknowledge yours.

And on Facebook, a young wife and mother broadcasts her anger at her church for all the world to see, never mind the appropriate channels for expressing an offense given to us in Matthew 18. A businessman, husband, and father known as a leader in his church posts lewd, locker-room humor--again, for all the world to see. Young women post pictures of themselves scantily clothed in provocative poses, as though they were modeling for lingerie ads or escort services. A young man, rebelling against his parents, proudly announces his latest immoral activity, using language that is coarse, offensive, R-rated at best.

Communication serves only as the vehicle to bring these people who are sacrificing their principles, integrity, and reputation to the actual idol: self, affirmation, attention--the spotlight.

This becomes clear in a sad situation that occurred over the weekend. A young man who was headed for his freshman year in college in a few weeks died suddenly, accidentally, tragically last Friday. He was an athlete, a musician, an excellent student who would make any parent proud. He was full of promise. He was my daughter's close friend. And as soon as word got out that Joel had died, his Facebook was filled with the sentiments of seemingly anyone, whether they had truly been his friend or not. While many of the messages were sincere in their sorrow, one message that made me cringe especially was a young woman's expression of her excitement that Joel was now with Jesus, and, unfortunately, she wasn't the only one leaving such odd thoughts. (Young lady who posted this: if you see this boy's parents or sisters, please do not tell them that you are excited that he is with Jesus. You will leave them with yet another ugly memory on top of all the other ugly memories this incident will leave them with.) And I've digressed. But my point is this: Who were these people leaving sentiments for? Joel is dead--yes, with Jesus. He can no longer access his Facebook account or read the kind sentiments that people are leaving for . . . him? Is it possible that these messages serve another purpose?

So yes, in the sense that money is an idol that leads to other idols, communication has become an idol that leads to other idols. Instead of striving to have things, though, the communication-driven idol has more to do with being--being noticed, being affirmed, being in the spotlight. And it probably brings us closer to what any idol obviously leads us to worship: ourselves.

Annette 300: Gratitude

2010-08-02T21:49:00.000-04:00

Katie Selden Photography

We celebrated Calvin 500 last year in honor of the great theologian's five hundredth birthday. Reformation Heritage Books, the publishing house where I work, is already gearing up for Reformation 500 in 2017 to celebrate Martin Luther's nailing the Ninety-Five Theses to the Wittenburg church door.

Annette 300 really doesn't have anything to do with reforming the church, and it won't be celebrated in special book publications or conferences. It is, however, a milestone for me: this is my three hundredth post since I started this little blog in January 2007. And there have been so many life changes since then!

This post I published back in 2007 best captures what I hope will be the theme not only of this blog, but of my life:

As an editor, I work in an environment of thought. If I'm not reading something someone else has written, I'm writing something myself, and lately I've been finding that even my out-of-work time is spent reading about theological debates that I didn't even know were being argued (more on this another time). I always find it interesting when the same concept recurs within a relatively short period of time, because I know that even the ideas that I'm confronted with come not from chance, but from God's fatherly hand.

The theme for this week seems to be gratitude as a response to cynicism. This came up for the first time Monday morning during our departmental Bible study, when the study leader asked how we combat the dangers of cynicism. The point that was being made in the book we are reading together was that it is very easy to become cynical when we work in a culture of Christians (such as Discovery House Publishers and RBC Ministries). I thought that it was an interesting question, but it never seemed to be answered, and I put the question behind me as soon as Bible study ended and I returned to my desk to consider the work ahead of me for the week.

And then my last posting addressed the issue of gratitude, that our beliefs organically express themselves in our actions. We express gratitude for all that Christ has done for us by obedience to God's law, because He tells us that if we love Him, we will keep His commandments.

And it all came together during Wednesday's chapel service. The speaker, Don Denyes, pointed us to 1 Chronicles 29:10ff., where David rejoices that the people have given so generously for the building of the temple. In his prayer is the foundation for gratitude. Interestingly, Denyes pointed out that the first layer of the foundation of gratitude is knowing who God is (what we believe), as David lists many of God's attributes (greatness, power, glory, victory, majesty). When we truly know Him, we will be grateful.

We also need to understand that God is sovereign, that He controls all things (v. 11). When we understand that all belongs to God and that He controls all the circumstances of our lives, we can be thankful for whatever happens in our lives.

Finally, we need to understand who we are and what we deserve. David says, "Who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to offer so willingly as this?" When we understand that what we actually deserve is not nothing, but rather eternal condemnation, we must be thankful when we realize the great blessings of salvation.

Gratitude is a good theme, and it's definitely an antidote for the cynicism that can so easily take over when we read the news or simply interact with other human beings. Gratitude forces our focus away from ourselves and onto the One who has never been motivated by selfishness. And for that I am thankful.

Vacation 2010

2010-07-27T21:48:00.000-04:00

Vacation 2010: Katie, Jonathan, and cousin Elizabeth at Hartwick Pines State Park

Vacations can be tricky things, I've learned. We plan and we wait and wait and wait--with great anticipation--for those few luxurious days when the only agenda is no agenda, when the only things we do are the things we want to do when we're doing what we have to do--reading a book in the sun, swimming in the lake, hiking, canoeing, golfing, biking, shopping. How could this be anything less than bliss?

We waited and waited and waited--with great anticipation--for vacation 2010: a week at a cottage on Higgins Lake. And we certainly were not disappointed. We slept in and some of us didn't get dressed till noon, read books in the sun, swam at the lake, hiked, canoed, played games, laughed a lot, and just plain made lots of wonderful memories. We even added our Elizabeth to the mix, the sweetest and funniest fourteen-year-old niece and cousin you could have, making our week that much more fun.

But it's a myth to think that vacation isn't work, that we're living heaven on earth for a few days. A power outage that lasts for eight hours forces us into town for food and water and finds us amusing ourselves at Super Walmart. We discover that the woods aren't just filled with the sounds of rustling leaves, melodious birds, and rays of sunlight--they're filled with mosquitoes too. And how long it takes three teenagers traveling in a canoe to reach the landing at four miles an hour becomes more than just an algebra problem--it eventually becomes a funny story after everyone finds their place in the canoe. And you also learn that space is a good thing when teenagers and adults are living in the same place.

But in the end, the imperfections blend together with the squirt gun fights at the lake, the cute puppy up the street, the time when Jonathan nearly got left behind at the pizza place, our family watching a movie together or playing UNO, and Katie and Elizabeth's numerous hours devoted to . . . coloring. And you put it all together, and you have the lovely memory of vacation 2010.

(This post is dedicated to LRHG, who is tired of the kissing picture. Go figure . . .)

Two Years

2010-07-08T21:54:00.001-04:00

Photo by LVL Photography

It's hard to believe that we'll be celebrating our second anniversary on Sunday, July 11. And two years later, we love to kiss, much to Katie and Jonathan's chagrin!

I heard this quote from the church father Tertullian at a family conference I attended last spring. I'm happy to say that it fittingly describes my life with Henry. Happy anniversary, my dear husband.

How beautiful, then, the marriage of two Christians, two who are one in hope, one in desire, one in the way of life they follow, one in the religion they practice.

They are as brother and sister, both servants of the same Master. Nothing divides them, either in flesh or in Spirit. They are in very truth, two in one flesh; and where there is but one flesh there is also but one spirit.

They pray together, they worship together, they fast together; instructing one another, encouraging one another, strengthening one another.

Side by side they face difficulties and persecution, share their consolations. They have no secrets from one another, they never shun each other's company; they never bring sorrow to each other's hearts . . . Psalms and hymns they sing to one another.

Hearing and seeing this, Christ rejoices. To such as these He gives His peace. Where there are two together, there also He is present, and where He is, there evil is not.

Toy Story 3

2010-07-05T22:17:00.000-04:00

I'm sure many families, like ours, have watched their children grow up with Andy, the child character in the Toy Story movies. When the first Toy Story movie came to theaters in 1995, Katie was 4 and Jonathan was 2. Katie remembers seeing it in the theater (she said she thinks it's the first movie she can remember seeing in a theater), and, of course, Jonathan does not. We did come to own the video, though, so we watched it many times together as a family. By the time Toy Story 2 came out in 1999, Katie and Jonathan were a little older and we were great fans of Woody, Buzz, and the family that looked a little like ours at the time: a single mom and Andy and his little sister.

So it was a poignant experience today, watching the grown-up Andy now heading off for college. I won't give away the plot for anyone out there who still plans to see it, but the movie has a lot to say about the importance of belonging, of loving and being loved, and of what we're willing to endure at times to be there for someone we love. But it's also about growing up--the things that we let go as we grow and the memories that are there to stay. So there I sat next to my nearly 19-year-old Katie and my 16-year-old Jonathan, and I sniffled a little bit at the end as we collectively said goodbye to Andy, Buzz, Woody, Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head, and all of Andy's special toy friends who have become our toy friends. And I thought about the lonely American Girl dolls packed away in the basement and the Brio trains and track that make an appearance only when little boys come to visit, and I hoped that someday there would be children who would welcome the chance to play with them.

And then we went to our longtime favorite pizza place and reminisced about the times we spent there in the past and the toys we once loved. And for old time's sake, Katie and Jonathan even bickered a little over cleaning the bathroom, and we threatened to make them walk home. But it was a wonderful way to spend a hot summer holiday afternoon, celebrating childhood, family, and happy memories. So do go see Toy Story 3. You'll be glad you did.

Great Stuff: True Woman | Shedding some Light on Twilight

2010-07-02T09:10:00.000-04:00

Since my own daughter hasn't had much interest in the Twilight series/movies, I really haven't followed this popular cultural trend very closely, other than to know that in some Christian circles, there is some debate about whether these books and movies are appropriate for young women. Writer Mary Kassian has some interesting things to say not just about the movies, but about how young women ought to be conducting themselves in relationships with men in general. It's a great post!

True Woman Shedding some Light on Twilight

Another Birthday

2010-06-28T21:36:00.000-04:00

With June coming to a close, another birthday has come and gone. For some reason, birthdays these days just aren't as exciting as they were earlier in my life. I used to look forward to being the center of attention, the object of celebration for a day. I was always excited about getting presents, and that still is one of the nice things about birthdays, even though my fascination with things isn't what it once was.

But one thing I loved about my birthday back then, about growing older, was that being older meant doing more things, having more privileges. It meant getting to go to school, being old enough to babysit, joining the high school youth group, getting a driver's license, graduating from high school, going to college. I don't think I'm unique in this.You felt that way about getting older at one time too. I guess my question these days is when do we start associating more birthdays with things we can't do? Why do we lose that sense that being older means doing more things, having more to contribute? Why do we start to think that being older means doing fewer things, contributing less, having fewer responsibilities? Do we start going backwards at some point?

The older I get, the more I understand what the psalmist meant when he said that our days are like grass, like flowers that flourish briefly, until the wind blows them down. Life happens fast, and it doesn't last very long. I used to look at my parents or other people when they were the age that I am now and think how old they were. At that age now, I feel like I'm just getting started, and I certainly don't feel old. There's definitely been a physical decline--it's much harder to lose weight now than it was in the past, and there's more that needs to be lost. I just got my first pair of progressive lens glasses because I'm finding it difficult to see things far away and close up. But mentally and emotionally, I feel like I'm better than I've ever been. I have knowledge, work experience, parenting experience--just plain life experience--that makes me a better, more productive, more useful, more confident person than I was back in my twenties. I have more to contribute to family, church, and work.

And that makes it all the more difficult for me to understand why people quit at sixty-five, when they still have so much to offer and so little time to waste. Social security allows them to retire from their jobs, but so many seem to quit everything at that point. And there are still so many needs, so much to do. My parents "retired," but they moved from Ohio up to Michigan to help me raise Katie and Jonathan when I was a young widow. Henry's eighty-something mom, who still drives and serves as meal coordinator at her church, often goes to nursing homes to visit the old people.

Friends of ours recently told us they've bought a condo in Florida, and they'll be going there this winter, like so many of the other mature couples in our church. They've raised their children, their grandchildren are now grown, and, she told us, they don't feel like they have anything to do. And while we're having this conversation, our VBS coordinators are running around, begging people to sign up to help. The average age of our elders is getting lower and lower because the men with maturity who have finished raising their families and actually now have the time to take up such a demanding office are in Florida six months of the year, not long enough to serve here, and not long enough to serve there. These are the people who, because they aren't working regular jobs, should have time to teach Sunday school, lead Bible studies, visit sick people, and take up any number of services in the church.

On the positive side, though, it's wonderful to see the retired school teacher, now in her eighties, teaching VBS faithfully. I've also been told that, as an "experienced" widow, she shepherds the new widows through dark days, encouraging and sharing with them in their sorrow. She may not be putting in forty-plus hours a week anymore, but she's using her time well.

And that's what God calls us to do, as author David Roper (a mature person who has not retired his wisdom and abilities) reminds us: "As long as we have the light of day, we must work--not to conquer, acquire, accumulate, and retire, but to make visible the invisible Christ, and to touch men and women, boys and girls with His love. If we have done all these things, we will have done all we can do, and we can rest easy" (Teach Us to Number Our Days, Discovery House Publishers).

Stuff I Read This Week: Not using snopes.com or google

2010-06-24T21:58:00.000-04:00

I haven't been putting up any "great stuff I read this week" posts for awhile because I've been occupied with editing some great stuff (see Monday's post). But this post from Stuff Christians Like.net is amusing and thought provoking. It addresses one of Henry's pet peeves, and something we've all done--forward e-mails without verifying that the information is accurate. So this one is for Henry.

Not using snopes.com or google.

Meeting Jesus at the Feasts

2010-06-21T21:57:00.003-04:00

"The New is in the Old concealed, the Old is in the New revealed." This little rhyme may be familiar to you (at least the concept should be) if you grew up in a Reformed church and attended catechism. It's reminding us that all of Scripture is one; there is not a huge division between the Old and New Testaments, with the New Testament suddenly being a radical departure from what has preceded it in the Old Testament. Rather, we understand that everything in the Old Testament points to Jesus (hence, it is concealed), and with the coming of Jesus and the fulfillment of prophecies, the meaning of the Old Testament is revealed in the New.

This is the premise for a wonderful new book that will be coming later this summer/early fall from Reformed Fellowship: Meeting Jesus at the Feasts by Dr. John Sittema. I've been spending my evenings since January editing this book for Reformed Fellowship, and it's been one of those great experiences where I learn something new every time I sit down to edit.

Dr. Sittema examines each of the seven Old Testament feasts--Passover, Feast of Unleavened Bread, Feast of Firstfruits, Pentecost, Feast of Trumpets, Day of Atonement, Feast of Tabernacles--as well as the Sabbath and the Year of Jubilee. He shows how each element of the celebration pointed the Old Testament people to Christ, revealing the gospel, and then shows how Jesus, in the New Testament, fulfills each of these celebrations, which served as types of him and the gospel. One fascinating concept I learned is that through the centuries, the Jews continued to celebrate the feasts that God had established, but they added in their own traditions and ceremonies.When Jesus comes, he condescends and observes and fulfills the feasts as they've come to be celebrated rather than as his Father originally instituted them.

That's just one of the intriguing concepts that struck me as I worked on this book. Here's an example of one of my favorites from the chapter on Passover. Sittema explains that one of the customs that developed through the centuries was the tradition of a lamb for the people. This was an actual lamb without blemish that was tied to a stake so that the people could come by and examine it, ensuring that this was, in fact, an animal without blemish. And how does this reflect Jesus' being our perfect Lamb?

That [Jesus] died, and that his death was physically, psychologically, and spiritually horrific tells only part of the story. When he died completes the tale.

The timing of the day was rich with meaning. As noted earlier, the lamb for the people had been staked out at 9:00 a.m. At the same time that the high priest was tying off the frisky four-footed beast, Jesus was nailed to the cross on the other side of the wall before the eyes of the watching world. Later in the afternoon, at the traditional time for the slaughter of the “lamb for the people,” the high priest cut its throat, concluding the peace offering with the standard liturgical proclamation, “It is finished.” But, at the very same time, on the other side of the wall, Jesus, the priest presiding over his own sacrifice, also cried out, “It is finished!” and breathed his last (Mark 15:37; Matthew 27:45–50). Jesus did not merely keep the Feast of Passover. He took it over.

Sittema's content is compelling, and his skillful writing style, passion for his topic, and knowledge of the feasts enhance the reading experience. Meeting Jesus at the Feasts will give you a better understanding of the gospel and the relationship between the Old and New Testaments. If you're looking for something that will be thought provoking and edifying for a Bible study (each chapter ends with discussion questions), you'll enjoy this book. You can read the introduction to the book here. And I'll let you know when it's available!

The Next Chapter

2010-06-05T21:13:00.000-04:00

I've just completed the first week of the next chapter of my life--at least the next chapter in the part devoted to work and career. Tuesday was my first day as an editor at Reformation Heritage Books, here in Grand Rapids.

I honestly wasn't looking to move on to a new chapter. I was perfectly happy with the Discovery House Publishers chapter. I love the people I worked with, I was working with some amazing authors that I had come to consider friends, and I enjoyed my work. I had just celebrated my fifth anniversary there, and I was looking forward to more. There was probably no one more surprised than I was that I would be moving on.

But even though we don't know anything about it, God has decided long ago the number of pages in each chapter in our lives, and as we turn a page, we're often caught off guard to find that we're at the end of one chapter and heading for the next.

I got my first hint that I was headed for something new back in March when I attended the Philadelphia Conference on Reformed Theology here in Grand Rapids. Henry's organization, Reformed Fellowship, had an exhibit at the conference, and he was representing the organization there. I wandered around, looking at the other publishers' tables, and found myself having a conversation with Dr. Joel Beeke, the founder and president of Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary and Reformation Heritage Books. By the time I left his exhibit, he had my business card and had asked me to do an editing sample for him the following week. I walked back to my husband, laughed, and said, "I think he's offering me a job." But then I said quickly, "He's a busy man. He'll forget all about this by Monday."

But he didn't forget. On Monday morning, there was an unedited manuscript, with a request from him to edit the first three brief chapters. After that, I had about a month to think about leaving DHP and moving on to RHB. And every time I thought of a reason to stay put in my nice, comfortable DHP chapter, situations and people (usually Dr. Beeke) kept giving me better reasons to move on to the next one.

And so I did. And I feel a little bit like Huck Finn,who at the end of his trip down the Mississippi, decides to strike out for the frontier. It was sad to leave behind so many dear coworkers and authors at DHP, and yet I have a calm sense of God's calling. And when God has turned the page, you just know that what's next might be crazy, unsettling, confusing, and wild--like the frontier--but it will be good.

Then and Now

2010-05-26T22:24:00.001-04:00

When the Watergate scandal captured America's attention in the early nineteen seventies, I was in fifth grade. I remember hearing "Watergate" everywhere and knowing that it was something bad, but not understanding anything about it. Someone asked our teacher, Miss Bender, what Watergate was, and she told us it had something to do with phones. That explanation didn't really clarify things for me then, although now I realize that she was talking about the phones in the DNC office being bugged. Last week Henry and I watched All the President's Men, the Robert Redford/Dustin Hoffman 1976 movie that told the story of Woodward and Bernstein, the two young Washington Post journalists who blew the Watergate story wide open, and I have a little better grasp of the events.

It was fascinating to see how much technology has changed things since the nineteen seventies: the way we gather information, the way we communicate, the whole purpose of news reporting. Early in the investigation, after several men had been arrested for burglary in the DNC office, Woodward and Bernstein were collecting names, trying to figure out who people were, what they did, how they might be connected to each other. While I watched them make phone calls, frantically trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, I thought how much easier their task would have been if they had Google search. If they could have done searches on the names they had, they would have found out quickly the relationships these people had to Nixon administration personnel like John Dean and Chuck Colson.

In another scene, Dustin Hoffman had flown to Florida to speak with an attorney. Even though he had called ahead and made arrangements to meet with the attorney, he was left sitting in the waiting room all day while the receptionist made excuses about why the attorney couldn't see him. Finally, at the end of the day, the receptionist told him he'd have to come back tomorrow. Frustrated, Hoffman left the office. Seconds later, the phone rang, and the audience could hear what was clearly Hoffman's voice instructing the receptionist to come to another office to pick something up. When she left, Hoffman snuck in to meet with the attorney. And how much easier would all of that have been if Hoffman had had a cell phone and hadn't had to track down a phone booth?

The newsroom scenes themselves were fascinating. There were no computers on desks--only typewriters. And while there were a few women reporters in the newsroom, a meeting showing the newspaper's editors hashing out which stories would be told on what page included no women at all. I'm wondering if there are any major newspaper editorial staffs today that have no women among their editors.

It struck me how journalism itself has changed in my lifetime. Woodward and Bernstein were committed to exposing the truth--for the benefit of the nation. As they worked together, they frequently reminded each other to make sure that the conclusions they were drawing were based on the facts. They were constantly verifying their sources, making sure that what they reported was fair. But they were committed to telling the story, even when their lives were threatened and no one else even believed they had a story worth telling.

Today, journalists (with a few exceptions) aren't interested in exposing the truth; rather, they want to create the truth. There's an agenda, and only those facts that support the agenda are told. Sometimes the facts are twisted a little if they don't further the agenda. If a story doesn't promote the truth that journalists are creating, they don't tell it. An interesting example: The media ridicules the "birthers," those who are taking the issue of the president's citizenship to court, demanding to see a valid birth certificate. How ridiculous! Of course the president is a legal citizen, they say. And yet, where's the valid birth certificate? If only there were a Woodward and Bernstein team out there on this story now.

In her column last week, Peggy Noonan wrote about how, as a culture, we are losing our privacy, largely because of all the new technologies that make information about anyone available to anyone. She points out that unlike the past, today there is no place to hide:

If you, complicated little pirate that you are, find yourself caught in the middle of a big messy scandal in America right now, you can't go to another continent to hide out or ride out the storm. Earlier generations did exactly that, but you can't, because you've been on the front page of every website, the lead on every newscast. You'll be spotted in South Africa and Googled in Gdansk. Two hundred years ago, or even 100, when you got yourself in a big fat bit of trouble in Paris, you could run to the docks and take the first ship to America, arrive unknown, and start over. You changed your name, or didn't even bother. It would be years before anyone caught up with you.

She's right. And in theory, it should be much harder to commit a Watergate crime--or to engage in scandalous behavior for that matter-- today than it was back in 1972. And yet how long did it take journalists--and even then it was the National Inquirer-- to reveal that John Edwards was having an affair that resulted in the birth of his illegitimate child? It may be impossible to hide in the twenty-first century, but I get the feeling that today's journalists just aren't looking.

I Hate to Do This

2010-05-19T22:36:00.000-04:00

To the friends who read and sometimes comment on my blog: You will notice that while I'm still accepting comments (and do leave them, please), they will no longer be published until I approve them. Unfortunately I've had some unwelcome commenters who for reasons unknown to me have selected my blog as a place to leave links to porn sites in some Asian language (Japanese, perhaps?) At any rate, I'm hoping that adding that extra step for commenters will put a stop to this grossness, and maybe soon I can remove the restriction. I do welcome comments from most of you, though, so please continue to leave them.

My Sister's Keeper

2010-05-19T22:27:00.002-04:00

For the second time, I'm reading Jodi Picoult's My Sister's Keeper. The first time I read it for pleasure--one of those bestsellers I picked up to read on vacation. This time, I'm reading it for my book group. It isn't classic fiction, by any means. Some of the story elements seem unnecessary and a little silly (the relationship between Campbell and Julia; the fact that Julia has a lesbian sister who plays no real role in the story but meets the obligatory " at least one homosexual character per novel" requirement for fiction writers today), and the teenage characters in the story, Anna especially, seem to think far too deeply to be believable. The novel definitely has the qualities that make it fit among today's popular bestsellers--which can be a good or bad thing, depending on your perspective. But it's a compelling story, addressing some important ethical issues. And it's interesting to me personally because the story revolves around a character with leukemia, which is the disease that my first husband died from.

At the beginning of the novel, Anna, age 13, has filed a lawsuit against her parents, seeking medical emancipation. Although she has never really been sick herself she has spent a lot of time in hospitals undergoing tests and enduring surgeries, shots, and transfusions. Anna, a product of preimplantation genetic diagnosis, was conceived to be a donor for her sister Kate, who has suffered from leukemia since she was a toddler. As the story begins, Kate is facing renal failure and death, and Anna, tired of being used for "spare parts," decides she doesn't want to give Kate the kidney that will save her life. The novel traces the events surrounding the crisis through the eyes of several characters: Sara and Brian, the parents; Jesse, the oldest of the three children; Kate; and Anna.

All kinds of questions arise: Is it ethical to "bioengineer" a child to be a donor for another? Should a person of any age be forced to provide blood, marrow, organs to keep someone else alive? Is it justifiable for a mother to neglect her other children for the sake of one who is seriously--perhaps terminally--ill? How hard should we fight to stave off the inevitable--death?

It was an interesting juxtaposition the morning that I began reading this novel. I was reading while eating breakfast, and I decided to read Spurgeon's selection in Morning and Evening for that day before I began reading the novel. He was discussing the sin of idolatry, pointing out that today's golden calf is often children, and having favorites can be a source of great sin. The Lord is grieved when parents dote on their children "beyond measure." And here is a story of what happens when a parent makes an idol of a child--probably not what Picoult had in mind, and yet this is clearly the case in this novel.

This is a story of idolatry and its results: Sara, the mother and wife, has sacrificed her marriage and her other two children's well-being to the idol of Kate and keeping Kate alive at any cost. And in that quest, Sara, like many today, has no notion of children as a gift from God, something to be received with gratitude. Anna is a product of geneticists who have combined sperm and egg so that she hasn't been born a child with a unique personality and set of gifts; rather, she is a simply a donor, and her value lies in her ability to keep Kate alive with the spare parts she can provide. Anna worships the idol of identity and personal value, so much so that she is willing to let her sister die rather than provide a healthy kidney that will keep her alive.

I can't help but think of an incident from my own life when my own family was fighting this terrible enemy of leukemia. Jon had been in an all-out battle for over a year. He had endured one of the harshest chemotherapy treatments available for about six months, only to relapse. He underwent a bone marrow transplant; his donor was his sister. It was one of the most horrible days I can remember when we sat in the doctor's office in Ann Arbor, learning that the transplant had failed, and the leukemia was back. What were our options at this point? The doctor looked at Jon and said that he could try further chemo treatments, but it was doubtful they would work. And then he said, "I know you're a Christian, and I just want to remind you that for us Christians, there are worse things than dying." And we understood what he was saying, and we had to agree.

This is a novel where the worst thing is dying. There is no hope in this situation, and the characters can see only bad and worse in their efforts to stave off the worst. And that's why there can be no happy ending (it's certainly a surprise ending--but by no means happy) for My Sister's Keeper, which depicts a world without God and ethical choices that fall into only three categories: bad, worse, and worst.

Prompt Generator

2010-05-05T21:00:00.000-04:00

I was checking out a list of great resources for writers, and I found a couple of links to Web sites with writing prompts. Both of the sites that are included in the list are aimed toward student writing assignments, and I especially like this one, which generates somewhat random suggestions for things to write about until you find one that you like. (Homeschooling parents--this is your curriculum resource tip of the week, by the way.) So since I really don't have anything particular that I feel I need to write about at the moment, I used the prompt generator and came up with this: "If I were the president of the USA, this is what I would do." Here's my response.

If I were the president of the United States, I would recognize, after a year and a half in office, that I was incredibly under-qualified and inexperienced and was doing a miserable job. I would pay attention to the numerous polls being conducted that show my approval ratings below fifty percent and recognize that my employers--the American people--were dissatisfied with my job performance. I would want to do better and I would start working to improve.

I'd remind myself of all the promises I made during my campaign and acknowledge that many were uninformed and many impossible to fulfill and that I'd simply made them to get votes with no intention of following through. I'd apologize to the American people, and especially my supporters, for being so reckless in making promises that I either never intended to keep or suspected would be impossible to keep.

I'd set aside my own self-serving agenda and put America's best interests first. I'd study history to see which president's policies had worked in the past to strengthen the economy and to make America militarily strong. I'd start with Ronald Reagan.

I'd quit appointing friends, novices, and flatterers to advisory posts and start appointing experts, people with proven success in the fields they were appointed to. I might not always like what they had to say, but I'd respect their judgment and seriously consider implementing their proposals because I'd realize that, after all, they are the experts, not me.

I'd put to rest for once and for all the issue of my citizenship. I'd produce a birth certificate that proves I'm an American citizen. Or, alternatively, I'd admit that I wasn't actually an American citizen and resign from the presidency.

I'd stop smoking to set an example for America's youth.

I'd find someone to coach me so that I could conduct myself in the office of president with more dignity, respecting protocol and tradition where necessary. I'd learn better public speaking skills and get rid of the teleprompter. I'd start using proper grammar when I spoke publicly.

I'd stop wasting energy blaming others for America's problems and own the responsibility and trust that was placed in me by the voters.

I'd stop coddling dictators and tyrants and start dealing reasonably with America's longstanding allies.

You know what? All of this would be a pride-sucking, humiliating exercise in admitting that I am wrong and that the voters who elected me made a horrific mistake that we're all going to have to live with for four years at least. So I think that if I were the president of the United States, I would just resign.

But You Can't Hug an E-Book

2010-04-28T20:57:00.002-04:00

All the buzz in the publishing world of late is e-books. E-books on the Kindle, e-books on the iPad, e-books on the Nook, e-books on the Sony Reader, e-books everywhere except on bookshelves, which apparently will soon become obsolete pieces of furniture because the printed books that they hold now will be displayed in museums, along with ancient Greek pottery, Native American arrowheads, and bullets from the Civil War.

When writers and publishers get together, the future of the printed book becomes the topic of conversation. Will it survive?

As an editor, I'm not worried. Like wedding rings, framed college diplomas, and the family china tucked safely away in a cabinet, books represent something deeper than just the information and stories they contain. If you're a book lover, stop right now and think about a book that you own. It has a story beyond its story, right? So that when you see that book, you think about the story inside, but you're thinking about other things too.

Two books do this for me, and one is Heidi by Johanna Spyri, particularly the edition pictured here. I probably read this book five times during my grade school years, and I loved Grandfather, Heidi, Peter, Clara--and even Heidi's aunt who meant well, but was just a little uptight. But the reason I loved this book so much was that it was a gift from my dad--one of two books that he sent to me when he had to go away for some training for his job. It was the only time he travelled for his work, and he was gone for a couple of weeks, as I recall. But he sent me Heidi and a collection of Anderson's Fairy Tales, and I read them both over and over.

A tattered copy of the Norton Critical Edition of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn holds a special place on my bookshelf and in my heart. It was required reading for freshman composition. I fell in love with it, and I wrote papers about Huck Finn whenever it was appropriate in my literature classes. For me, Huck Finn represents the joy of learning, an English major's adventures in analyzing and writing about literature, and memories of one of the best teachers I have ever had.

True book lovers will keep the printed book alive. We need tangibles to remind us of the intangibles. That's why we wear wedding rings, save those Christmas ornaments our children made in kindergarten, and treasure our grandmother's handwritten recipe cards. These things are precious to us because they stand for something far more valuable than what they're made of--someone else's love for us and the times of joy that we have shared.

God recognizes our human need to have tangibles to represent the intangibles. That's why He gave us baptism and the Lord's Supper. The water that we see and that our child feels reminds us that we are impure and need Jesus to wash away our sins, and the bread and wine of communion remind us of Jesus' broken body and shed blood, which provide remission of our sins. Tangibles to help us remember the intangibles.

Books are more than paper, ink, and glue, but that paper, ink, and glue allow us to see, touch, and remember the significant people and moments of our lives. E-books are here to stay, and both their producers and consumers will learn how best they can be used in time. But no one will ever curl up with a good e-book by a fireplace on a cold, rainy day, and grandchildren won't snuggle up with Grandma as she reads from a Kindle. You just can't hug an e-book.

What's your book story? Share it in the comments, please.

Education and the Gospel

2010-04-19T21:20:00.002-04:00

An Internet rabbit trail last week led me to a website that I wish I hadn't found: Cedarville Out. Cedarville University, a Christian college near Dayton, Ohio, is my alma mater, and Cedarville Out, the website explains, is a group of "gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgendered (GLBT) alumni of Cedarville University. We are straight alumni who support our GLBT friends. And we are bound together in our belief that everyone's sexuality is a precious gift from God." The group is not in any way supported by the university.

Included on the website are pictures of the alumni members of the group along with their stories and statements, recounting their experience of finally embracing their homosexuality, many of them believing now that there is no conflict between being a Christian and being a homosexual.

I recognize many of the faces on that site. In fact, one of the women influenced my academic choices, and I'm grateful that I knew her. She was a unit mate my freshman year, and I listened carefully as she advised me to take classes from the best professors--the ones who taught me to think biblically, the ones who themselves were Calvinists. One time she invited me, with a group of her friends, to go to a church where Dr. Grier was preaching. In a Baptist college where Calvinism was not well respected by most, Dr. Grier, along with several others, helped shape my thinking about theology, and their influence pointed me in the direction of Reformed theology and the faith that informs all that I think, do, and believe.

I'm sad for the people on the Cedarville Out site--both the ones who have come out and those who support them. Although there are many denominations, institutions (Calvin College comes to mind), and individuals who want to debate the matter, homosexuality is a sin. Like worshiping idols, taking God's name in vain, lying, murder, adultery, and coveting, homosexuality is a sin. It's not necessary to be a New Testament scholar to read Romans 1 and understand that the apostle Paul, writing under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, is declaring homosexuality to be a sin. It's not a question of whether the Bible says it's a sin; it's a question of whether a person believes that the Scriptures are the Word of God--that they are authoritative and undeniably true when they tell us that homosexuality is a sin.

As I read some of the stories, I found it interesting that one alumna credited professors like Dr. Grier and Dr. Ron and Mrs. Jody Grosh with teaching her how to think for herself, to think "outside of the box," enabling her to realize that God is a God of diversity, of gay and straight people alike, and that He blesses gay people with loving partners.

And I credit those same professors, and one other, Dr. Jim McGoldrick, with teaching me how to think Christianly. They taught me to take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ. In fact, I remember an exercise that Jody Grosh used in my freshman comp class to demonstrate to us students that truth is not a relative thing--that God is the definer of truth. Scripture alone is the source of truth and morality, and to twist God's Word to suit our own purposes, to justify our own sinfulness, is to believe a lie. I would say that these same teachers helped me develop the thinking skills that help me understand that homosexuality, most certainly, is a sin.

What was re-enforced for me through this experience is something that I already knew: education cannot save us. In our Reformed circles, we value education and learning--and we should. God would have us develop our intellectual abilities as well as we can to bring glory to Him. We Reformed parents take vows at our children's baptisms that we will train our children up in a way that is consistent with the Word of God and our confessions. Some of us place our children in private Christian schools and some of us home-school and a few of us take advantage of public schools, but all of us are motivated by the desire to see our children grow in the faith that they have been baptized in, to have dominion over the world God has created. We know that it's critical to a life of faith that we learn and develop our minds.

But lest we become too confident in education and start to believe that the right type of education will guarantee our children's faithfulness, we must remember the true source of our salvation. The most faithful Christian education, the instruction of the most godly teachers, which I believe I received from certain professors at Cedarville, cannot create in us faithfulness and obedience and submission to God's Word. If what we get from our education is the ability to justify our sins rather than repent of them, we have missed the message of the gospel, which is the only thing that can truly save.

Toys

2010-04-12T21:48:00.000-04:00

If you have a pulse, you're probably aware of the variety of toys out there: iPhones, iPods (and the iPod Touch), and now the ridiculously named iPad. (I like Henry's name for all of these--iPoofs.) And those are just the toys that Apple brings to us. My son still is often attached to his Nintendo DS, and when Katie's boyfriend is waiting for her to get ready (often the case), rather than making awkward conversation with the parents or just sitting around uncomfortably not knowing what to do, he pulls out his phone and starts playing games.

So whatever did we do back in the day--before joy was only a start button away? However did parents who had to wait with small children keep them quiet in those pre-pocket computer days?

Someday a children's history book in its section on culture and society will attempt to describe the toys children of the twentieth century played with, those poor, backward souls who knew nothing of pocket-sized electronics, those who thought that color television was an amazing development in entertainment technology and couldn't think of anything that could be better. Here's what it will say:

Children in the mid-twentieth century knew nothing of handheld electronic devices. In fact, none of them even had personal computers in their homes yet--they hadn't been invented! Most of the toys they played with back then cost less than ten dollars, but they didn't come with any apps. It was a challenge for them to find fun things to do because they had to do more than turn on a start button, and yet they managed, like children of any time, to play games and have fun.

Girls especially enjoyed playing a game called jacks, in which they tossed small metal objects on the ground and attempted to pick them up while bouncing a small rubber ball. Sometimes a group of them would get together and stretch out a long rope, and with one girl standing on each end, they would swing it while another player would stand in the middle and jump. Sometimes they would sing a song or recite a fun chant while they were jumping.

Children would play games like you do now, but they actually had boards that they would put on a table or floor. There would be cards they would hold in their hands and plastic pieces that they would move around the board, depending on the game they were playing. Games often involved small cube-shaped things called die that players would throw to find out how many spaces they could move on the board. Another game involved gathering a number of sticks together and then letting them randomly fall. Players would take turns attempting to pick one up at a time without touching any of the others.

There were small pocket toys that they could carry with them, but they weren't electronic at all. They had a cardboard back and a plastic cover on top. Inside were small holes and small silver beads. Children would move the game around, trying to make the beads stay put in the holes.

And children of this era did have television. But they had only a few channels--two or three at the most. And cartoons were on only on Saturday mornings and for a short time after school.

Sometimes children during this era were expected just to sit quietly, with absolutely no entertainment at all. These were stringent times for children.

Despite these entertainment challenges, children of the mid-twentieth century managed to grow up and become productive members of society. In fact, some of them learned that life couldn't be constant, 24/7 entertainment. Sometimes they did chores, went to school, did homework, and, yes, sometimes they did sit quietly.

How great the technological advances since then! No children today ever have to be without amusement or entertainment--even for a few seconds--like the poor children of the mid-twentieth century.

Shameless Plugs

2010-04-06T21:44:00.001-04:00

Here are, admittedly, a couple of shameless plugs for two very creative, entrepreneurial ladies. The first is Miss Katie Selden, my very own red-headed daughter, who has just created a new website for her photography business. Katie has had a passion for photography for several years now, and even though she's all grown up and in college now, majoring in a sensible degree like Humanities with an English emphasis, she ultimately wants to be a photographer. (You'll have to ask her to explain, and you can probably do that if you go to her website or contact her on Facebook.) She's accepting appointments for prom photographs now, and she's even come up with her own idea, a take-off on the weirdly popular trash-the-wedding-dress concept: trash the prom dress. Be the first of your friends to have a trash-the-prom-dress portrait, but don't tell your mom!

My other plug is for an author that I've enjoyed working with on two book projects, Christy Bower. Christy's second book, Best Friends with God, which I edited, will be releasing soon, and Christy is planning a pre-release book party this Friday, April 9, at her blog and on Facebook. You can interact with her, and she even has a contest going to win a signed copy of her new book. Get the details on when/how to enter her contest and join the party at her blog. Christy is a great person and an excellent author--both my experiences working with her have been a lot of fun. So pay her a visit, and win a free book!

Needing the Resurrection

2010-04-03T14:30:00.002-04:00

One of the blogs I read this week asked its contributors to write, in a hundred words or less, why they need the resurrection. It sounded like a great writing/thinking exercise, so here’s my attempt:

Like Eve, I want the things I cannot have. And like Sarah, I sometimes doubt the promises of God’s Word. I often speak without thinking and say offensive things, like Peter. I grow impatient with others like Martha. And like Mary, I’ve stood by the side of loved ones as they’ve died. I’m one of the “none righteous” that Paul writes about. So I need to be made alive like Christ, raised up with him, so that I can bear the image of the man of heaven, so that I can have the victory—with him. I need the resurrection.

A blessed Resurrection Sunday to all! May you know your own need for Christ's resurrection--and know that that need has been overwhelmingly and powerfully met.

Imperfect Praise

2010-03-29T21:49:00.001-04:00

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased! ~Luke 2:23

Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest! ~Luke 19:38

These two verses from the book of Luke frame Jesus' earthly life. The first, of course, was the song of the angels as they announced the birth of the Messiah. The second comes from an incident a week before Jesus' death as the people praise their Messiah as he enters Jerusalem riding on a colt.

This second passage from Luke 19 was our pastor's Palm Sunday text. If you've ever been in church (or anyplace there was some instruction) and a lightbulb suddenly came on as things fell into place for you, then you know what I was experiencing yesterday morning as Pastor Vos opened this text to us.

It's interesting how similar both these praise verses are--coming at the beginning and end of Jesus' life. But there is an important difference. In the first, God--through the angels--announces the birth of his son and declares that there is peace on earth. In the second verse, the people get things--as our pastor explained--upside down.

The people knew their Bible, he explained. They were aware of the prophecies regarding the Messiah. So when Jesus came riding into Jerusalem from the east, on a colt, they were excited. Here was salvation! They thought that within a week, the Romans would be cast out, and Jesus would be on the throne. Their nation would be restored to them, and they would no longer be slaves to Rome. In their excitement, they declared peace in heaven--upside down and imperfect praise, for only God, from heaven, can declare peace on earth.

And yet Jesus accepts their imperfect, upside-down praise. In their ignorant arrogance, they were offering their praise for the wrong kind of Messiah, for a Messiah who would have delivered far less than they really needed. So how could he accept this praise? The same way he accepts our imperfect praise today--he atoned for it on the cross the next week.

And in the next verse, Luke 19:41, our Lord weeps for the city that does not know the things that make for its peace.

Take Time to Be Holy?

2010-03-25T20:27:00.000-04:00

Take time to be holy, speak oft with thy Lord;

Abide in Him always, and feed on His Word.

Make friends of God’s children, help those who are weak,

Forgetting in nothing His blessing to seek.

~William Dunn Longstreet

It's time to revisit my short-lived yet popular (with at least two or three people) series: "Not So Great Hymns of the Faith," in which I question how it is that Reformed people are able to suspend everything they've ever learned in catechism classes and heard in sermons about their confessions to sing silly hymns with bad theology and cloying tunes that date from the late 1800s. If you want to review the previous posts in the series, you can find them here.

I was recently struck by the silliness of the above hymn when we sang it during song service at our church. (Song service is a somewhat strange tradition to me since I didn't grow up Reformed. No one quite knows its purpose. In our area United Reformed churches, song service occurs for about ten minutes before the actual service begins, and the congregation sings songs from a songbook other than the Psalter Hymnal that we use for worship. It's kind of a hymn free-for-all.) I've probably sung this hymn hundreds of times in the past, but this time I realized how bizarre it actually is. Take time to be holy? I visualized my Google calendar, trying to find an hour here or there between dentist appointments, haircuts, meetings at work, and Bible studies to squeeze in some holiness.

Of course holiness is to characterize our entire Christian walk--it's not something we take time to do as if there were starts and stops. Calvin says, "Of the many excellent recommendations, is there any better than the key principle: Be thou holy, for I am holy?" He reminds us that holiness means full obedience to Christ, and our holiness should lead us to "exhibit the character of Christ in our lives, for what can be more effective than this one stirring consideration?" Holiness, then, is not something to make time for; it is what we are to exhibit every waking moment of our lives.

While the hymnwriter encourages us to engage in the activities of someone who wants to live a life of holiness, it feels like he may have missed this point about holiness that Calvin makes: "Holiness is not a merit by which we can obtain communion with God, but a gift of Christ, which enables us to cling to him, and to follow him."

With its focus on our activities rather than God's greatness, this messy hymn has strange lyrics that definitely place it in the category of a not so great hymn of the faith. And if you want to read something really good on the theological ideas that have shaped so many of the not-so-great hymns of the faith, read Michael Horton's article in this month's Outlook.

When Character Was King

2010-03-17T20:46:00.002-04:00

Until relatively recently, I've had little to no interest in politics. But now that the two men in my life make it a regular topic of conversation at the dinner table (and pretty much anywhere there's a supply of oxygen that makes breathing and talking possible), I don't have much choice. And these are interesting, albeit frustrating, political times. It's easy to become cynical and discouraged, to wonder if there's anyone in Washington--in government anywhere--who believes in principle, who loves America, who really cares about doing what's best for our country and its people.

And that's why I bought Jonathan Peggy Noonan's biography of Ronald Reagan, When Character Was King, for his birthday last November. I wanted him to know that there have been presidents who stand for something, who have accomplished great things, who have earned the nation's and world's respect, who understand what it means to serve their country rather than use the office of president as a platform for demanding their next multimillion-dollar book deal.

I didn't know much about Ronald Reagan. He was actually the first president I voted for back in 1984. (And lest you're doing the math to try to figure out my age, I could have voted for him in 1980 but was a freshman in college, away from home and not interested enough to get an absentee ballot.) I'm not sure why I voted for him; I really didn't know much about him except that he was a Republican, and that's the candidate Christian, small-town Ohio girls vote for. I probably appreciated his anti-abortion stance at that point. At any rate, he won my vote. And in hindsight, I'm glad he did.

A couple of years ago, a friend lent us a documentary about Ronald Reagan. I hadn't realized what an amazing couple of terms he had served until I saw the documentary. Here was a politician who took a stand and wouldn't be swayed from it, who loved his country, who was dignified yet humble, who actually made this country a better place to live, who recognized evil in the world and wasn't afraid to call it that and fight it.

And so I took a big risk when I chose Noonan's biography for our book group to read. While I was voting for Reagan, the other members of my book group were playing Barbies and learning cursive writing. They had no awareness of hostages in Iran, Mr. Gorbachev (or the other Soviet leaders who preceded him), Reagonomics, or Star Wars missile defense systems.

And yet the book--and Ronald Reagan--was a hit with the book group. Noonan writes with a lovely, flowing, eloquent style that makes you forget that you're reading nonfiction. Her story of Reagan reads like a novel. She begins where his life begins, telling the reader that all presidents come from something. She talks about his alcoholic father and Christian mother, the poverty he grew up in, his conscious choice to live optimistically rather than cynically, the Hollywood years and Reagan's first awareness and fight against the evils of communism.

Noonan, who was a speechwriter for Reagan, is passionate about her subject, and her admiration for this great leader shows as she describes the important events of his presidency. But the thing she wants you to know the most about her former boss is that he was a man of character: he was honest, humble, a man of integrity who kept his promises and served his nation well.

Sadly, there don't seem to be many Ronald Reagans in government today, although candidates in both parties have tried to present themselves as being in his tradition--a tribute to him that he was respected by members of both parties. It's an unfortunate reality that today, presidents aspire to be celebrities unlike in Reagan's time, when a celebrity became a president. One of the interesting points that Noonan makes about Reagan, and true conservatives, is that it's an uncomfortable thing for a conservative to seek power, because in gaining it, he or she will then work to decrease the power of the government. What a striking contrast Reagan makes to the power hungry, self-important, camera-seeking crowd that wants goverment control of every aspect of our lives.

I highly recommend this book, one of the best biographies I have read. It will inspire you to know that America has benefitted from such a great president, but it will sadden you as consider the state of Washington politics today.

Nowhere

2010-03-08T22:09:00.000-05:00

About a month ago, our church's youth group came over to hang out in our basement for games and fun. Our basement is a large area with lots of room, and we had set up tables for games and snacks. Jonathan had borrowed his grandparents' Wii for the evening, and we have a separate room with a ping-pong table. There were about twenty people (including the leaders), and there was no shortage of activities. So I found it a curious thing that every time I looked at one of the girls, she was pulling out her cell phone--obviously texting someone who wasn't there.

I couldn't help but feel a little bit bad for this girl. With everything that we had to offer here that evening, it wasn't enough. Not satisfied to be here in this moment, enjoying the friends and activities that were here, she kept looking for something or someone else outside, something more.

She's not unlike many other teens and even adults out there who try to escape the here and now. Not satisfied just to be in their cars driving someplace, many drivers must talk on their phone at the same time. Not content just to be shopping, shoppers must be conversing with others on their phones at the same time that they're checking out the clothing racks. The need for constant entertainment has become the school's nightmare, as students leave the now of their classrooms to text their friends--who may be sitting somewhere else in the same classroom.

Henry and I were at a local Indian restaurant Friday night, and we noticed two large flat-screen TVs on the wall. They seemed out of place with the Indian decor. Henry observed, "It used to be that eating out was the entertainment. Now there needs to be entertainment at the place of entertainment."

And that led to his other insightful observation of the weekend, which brings me back to the girl who was here with the youth group and the demand for more and more entertainment. For this young lady, to be here and to enjoy the companionship of her friends and the activities we offered was not enough. Through her texting, she was attempting to be someplace else, with someone else. She wasn't really here, and she wasn't really with her friend. Really, she was nowhere, with no one. She wasn't with the kids here, and she wasn't with her friend.

While I appreciate some of the conveniences that modern technologies have brought to our lives (I'm typing this on my laptop in my comfy chair), it is a little disconcerting to see where some of this is leading us. Clearly many are controlled by the technology rather than controlling it. They are its slaves. And it's never satisfying to be a slave. Slaves desire the freedom to be where they want to be, to be with the people of their choice. And slaves to technology demonstrate this restlessness, this dissatisfaction. The irony is, their attempts to break free of the here and now lead them nowhere, to no one.

Hopefully as this Facebooking, iTouching generation matures, it will break free of the slavery of technology and put it in its proper place. Technology is a good and useful thing, a blessing of God that can make our lives easier and more efficient. As our taskmaster, though, it robs us of our ability to find contentment in the here and now.

Earthly Things

2010-02-18T22:28:00.000-05:00

Henry and I were invited to a New Year's Eve gathering at the home of some new friends this year, and it was an event that included children and adults. I was sitting with the womenfolk, a couple of whom who tending to their young children while we chatted. P., the little boy whose home we were visiting, had pulled out his prized toys, some kind of little animal figures. He was sharing nicely with one of the other little boys, J., when J. decided he wanted to play with P.'s very favorite. Of course a tug of war commenced, and finally, in exasperation, P.'s mom said, "P., it's only an earthly thing."

I would have loved it if P. had responded, "You're right, Mom. Thanks for reminding me that this little horse thing will soon be corrupted by moths and rust. I'm going to build up treasures in heaven, where thieves don't break in and steal." And even though that wasn't P.'s response and he didn't seem to be overly inspired by his reminder that his toy was only an earthly thing, I found myself wishing that I had thought of that admonition when my own children were small and were tussling over some "earthly thing." I admire a parent who will get right to the heart of the problem, and maybe P. doesn't understand right now the unimportance of earthly things, but someday his mother's reminder will resonate in his memory, and he'll be saved from some financially bad decision or he'll recover more quickly from some material loss . . . which brings me to my own grappling with the concept that something is only an "earthly thing."

The earthly thing that I'm struggling to give up is a little more substantive than a small plastic pony, but the grip it has had on me is every bit as tight as the grip the little pink pony had on P. My struggle began last November. After a little over a year of marriage, we had finally gotten my pre-marriage house cleaned out and fixed up to the point where it was ready to go on the market. It had been a real albatross around Henry's neck, especially since he had been paying the mortgage, utility bills, and insurance for a place that we weren't using--and he had even physically worked hard on several occasions to remove some of the remaining debris from the premises so we could sell it. He was ready to let this earthly thing go.

And so was I. I had a picture in my mind of the new owners--a nice young couple who were going to cash in on the tax credit being offered to first-time homeowners. They'd have the time and energy to fix things up a bit in a way I'd never been able to. Maybe they'd even put a garden in the back yard. And probably they'd turn Jonathan's bedroom into a nursery when that first little one came along.

So we put the house on the market about midweek, and amazingly, before the weekend was over--in this horrible economic mess that is Michigan--five couples went through. By Monday, we had an offer. But it was an appallingly low offer. And I was still reeling from having to set the selling price at over ten thousand dollars less than what I originally paid for the house back in 1998. Henry just wanted to be rid of this earthly thing, but I stood my ground and said I was basically insulted by the offer, and I just knew someone else would come along. It was, after all, a cute house--and there was that tax credit for first-time home buyers.

We countered halfway. At some point, it occurred to me that the people who had made the offer had only gone through the house once. I thought that was a little odd, but who knew what was going on. Maybe it was such a great little house that they were afraid of missing out. They accepted the offer, had already been approved for a mortgage, and were ready to close within a couple of weeks. And they wanted only the furnace inspected. Strange--but maybe that's all they could afford. So far so good.

Somewhere along the line, on some paperwork, we had read the names of the buyers. The names were very Eastern European sounding, and while that wasn't quite the vision of the buyers I had, I had a great new backstory. These people were probably immigrants from Bosnia. They had struggled mightily--back in Bosnia and here in America. But their years of hard work had finally paid off, and now they were going to be able to move out of the overcrowded apartment they were living in and purchase their own home. The American dream. I could hear Neil Diamond singing, "They're coming to America" as I saw the new owners moving in.

So we showed up at the closing, and I was still less than thrilled with the price we had accepted. When we got there, we found out that the buyers would be closing at another title company. We wouldn't get to meet them and see how nice they were and hear about their plans to finish off the basement. I was less than thrilled, and our realtor's rep picked up on that. She said, "Are you missing your house?"

I truly was not. The house Henry and I now have is spacious, beautiful, in a wonderful neighborhood with a park and sidewalks--more than I ever hoped of having. I hadn't missed that little single-parent-with-two-kids-home for a minute. I responded, "I'm just disappointed about the price we're getting. And I had hoped we'd at least get to meet the buyers."

"Oh, they're nice people," she said. "And they already have renters lined up to move in right away."

Renters? In my cute little house? The house I had stepped out on my own to buy--a single mom with two kids? The house we had just dropped a lot of money on, having it painted and putting new flooring in the bathrooms? The house that I had paids to have professionally landscaped after we moved in in 1998?

And so I try to remind myself to be grateful. So many people who are trying to sell their homes have to wait for many months--even years--before they finally get buyers. We didn't even have to wait a week.

And yet the horror stories from those I know who have owned rental properties continue to haunt me: walls with holes in them, stained carpets, strange smells, rusted appliances on the front porch, overgrown yards that haven't seen a mower in . . . too long. And then the poor neighbors--the value of their properties probably has been drug down because my house is owned by a slum lord. They're probably putting up with loud parties and empty beer cans and cigarette wrappers that somehow make their way over to their yards.

Andwhenever I think about this, I get kind of crazy and mad. A nice young schoolteacher bought Henry's house. And you know it's cuter now than it ever has been. And renters live in mine.

And then I think about P.'s mom, and I tell myself, "It's only an earthly thing."

But it was a huge step for me. And a courageous one. I was a single mom, and I bought that house all by myself.

It's only an earthly thing.

We have some great memories in that house--birthdays, Christmases, fun in the backyard . . .

It's only an earthly thing.

It looked so nice when we finally had it ready to sell. Clean, lightcolored walls, new flooring in the bathrooms, a new light fixture in the dining room.

It's only an earthly thing.

I'm working on it . . .

Keeping Romance Alive

2010-02-11T20:20:00.001-05:00

The calendar and Hallmark tell us Valentine's Day is just around the corner (this weekend, in fact), and I find that now that I'm married, Valentine's Day just isn't nearly as exciting as I thought that it might be when I didn't have a valentine to celebrate with. But I must explain: Henry and I celebrate Valentine's Day in a sense every week, so it's hard to imagine what we'd do differently from what we do every week on date night.

The people who know us well know that most Friday nights for Henry and me are date night, a feature of our courtship that I insisted must be carried over into our marriage. There isn't anything especially novel or radical about date night, but I think that it was key to our pre-marriage romance, and it certainly is an important element for us now.

When Henry and I were dating, we reserved Friday nights for each other. He would choose a restaurant, come pick me up and bring me flowers, and then we would have a lovely dinner with conversation. After we'd been dating for awhile, we'd go back to my house and have coffee and a special dessert that I picked up at a bakery. That was date night. And date night now looks very similar. He doesn't buy me roses every week (people ask if he still does), but often the roses he buys last more than one week, and he knows how they're looking now when Friday night rolls around. And when we were dating, the bouquets were a nice reminder throughout the week of Henry. Now I have him throughout the week, which is much better than roses.

Anyway, we still go out most weeks (unless something else comes up), and he still suggests the restaurant. (These days I feel a little freer to suggest an alternative, but many times when I arrive at home and he makes his suggestion, it's often a restaurant I was thinking of.) I usually stop at a bakery on the way home from work and get some dessert. After dinner, we come home and have coffee and dessert and watch a movie that we've gotten from Netflix. And that's date night.

It's not date night, per se, that is such a unique idea. What is important is that we've set this evening aside for each other, and it's something we look forward to all week. And it truly keeps romance alive. And so on this Valentine's Day, I'd advise every married couple to adopt some form of date night and make it a regular part of your lives. Date night will look differently from couple to couple based on interests and circumstances. Couples with young children who don't have a lot of extra cash for babysitters and nice restaurants might have to adapt date night to their situation at this season in their lives. Maybe it just means having a glass of wine or a dessert and watching a movie at home after the kids have gone to bed. It may require some creativity and planning, but it will be worth the effort.

Here are some suggestions for date nights from an article in Christianity Today:

1. Take in a local concert or theater production. We've really enjoyed some productions at local community theaters, and they don't charge as much. One of our favorite local theaters where we've seen some great performances is Master Arts.

2. Read a book of short stories aloud to each other. Or anything that interests you as a couple. Read a novel together. The point is that you're sharing time doing something you both enjoy.

3. If you have children, ask them to plan your date! But don't be surprised if you find yourself at Chuck E Cheese.

4. Make it a three-course progressive dinner. Have an appetizer at one restaurant, main course at another, and dessert at another. Would require lots of time and money.

5. Give an encore performance. Do something that you did on a date before you were married that you really enjoyed, or take up an activity that you enjoyed before you were married that you aren't doing now.

6. People watch. It costs nothing. And Henry and I have had some of our best times making up stories about the people we see when we're out.

7. Just go for a drive together. With no destination in mind.

So this year, commit yourself to celebrating Valentine's Day every week rather than once a year on February 14. Valentine's Day won't be nearly as special when it rolls around, but that's because every week will be special.

Jane Gets It

2010-01-28T22:00:00.001-05:00

I'm getting off to a bit of a slow start this year with my reading list. It's the end of January, and I just finished my first book last week for my book group: Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen. It was an interesting read from the perspective that it was Austin's first novel, and reading it was a study in the growth of a great writer. While it wasn't a well-crafted book, the seeds of Austen's greatness were there, and it was intriguing to see how far she'd come in creating fascinating characters by the time she got to Pride and Prejudice, Emma, and Sense and Sensibility.

Perhaps because the characters and the plot weren't that compelling, though, I paid closer attention to the manners and behaviors of the characters in the book, and it made me wish that our own approach to male/female relationships, courtship/dating, and marriage resembled that era's approach more closely.

Several observations that are neither profound or new from Austen's era:

Men didn't consider marriage as an option until they were settled in a career and were confident that they could provide financially for a wife and family. In this novel, the male love interest was in his late twenties and was a minister and Catherine, the female interest, was seventeen.
If a respectable young man approached a respectable young woman and asked her to dance or otherwise spend time socially with him, that young woman could reasonably assume that he had an interest in marrying her. Not a done deal, mind you. But that was clearly a possibility. Otherwise he wouldn't have approached her. It was all taken very seriously.
Young men and women who were getting to know one another typically didn't go off by themselves. There was usually a chaperone--a sister, brother, friend--who accompanied them.
There was a concern for behaving properly and a healthy consideration of what others might think.

Probably one of the things I've taken away from my adult dating experiences is that we really haven't thought carefully enough or taken seriously enough the nature of relationships between single men and women. We've created a system that works well for some, but disastrously for most. From the time we're junior highers, we "hook up" with a member of the opposite sex who interests us, and when that person stops interesting us, we move on. And so by the time we finally do marry someone, we've been involved in varying degrees of both emotional and physical intimacy with several people. We gamble with our sexual purity, and some of us win, but many of us lose. And now we carry as baggage the hurts of all of our broken relationships--right into our marriage.

On several occasions in my singleness I talked with my former pastor about the strangeness of the dating scene, and one of his observations was that Scripture doesn't depict men and women in an intermediate, try-each-other-out-for-size phase of a relationship. He observed that Scripture speaks about brothers and sisters in Christ and husbands and wives (and familial relationships, of course), but it doesn't ever protray an in-between category where we enjoy many of the benefits of marriage (and I'm not just talking about sex--but companionship, emotional intimacy, and some levels of physical intimacy) without being married or without any intention of being married.

I've tried to discourage my children from getting involved in dating relationships until they're in a position in life where they're ready to get married, but the frustrating thing is that no one, even in the church, seems to think that way. We teach our young people--sometimes by what we do say and sometimes by our silence--that pairing off with a member of the opposite sex is just a reasonable, normal, and, in fact, fine thing to do as we grow up--kind of like getting a driver's license. And so, despite Henry's and my best advice, our daughter has a boyfriend, and, as freshmen in college, they're several years away from even beginning to think about marriage. But to suggest another way is to be countercultural, old-fashioned, and unrealistic.

But what if we taught our young people the Austen/eighteenth-century approach? What if we taught our sons that they really shouldn't think about a relationship with a young woman until they were prepared to get married--agewise, careerwise, and emotionally? What if we taught them that a girl who isn't their family member is a sister in Christ, and she should be treated with respect and dignity? What if we taught our children what we adults all know is true--that it's nigh unto impossible to maintain sexual purity in a male/female relationship where we've invested our emotions, our time, our bodies to some extent? And for that reason, we should wait to make that kind of investment until we're prepared to get married? What if we encouraged them to be friends with one another until they had achieved a maturity level where they were ready for marriage? What if we taught them that the relationship they should be building during their teen and early adult years is their relationship with Christ--which would help them one day to have a healthier marriage relationship?

And now you may be thinking that all of that is unrealistic, old-fashioned, impractical and would never work. And yet I've had dating relationships the modern way, and I've had one--the best ever--the Jane Austen way. Modern dating led to frustration, disappointment, and hurts. The Austen way led me to the most romantic courtship and marriage I could have ever imagined.

Dear Kristi . . .

2010-01-16T21:40:00.000-05:00

My sister Kristi went to heaven twenty years ago today. She would have turned forty this past December 6. If I could talk to her, this is what I might begin to say to her.

Dear Kristi,

Wow! Twenty years ago today you went to heaven to be with Jesus. Sometimes it seems like time has flown past in a blur, but other times--when I think about all that has happened in twenty years, the others who have left us, the new people that have come into my life, the fact that I've very nearly raised two children to adulthod--it seems like I feel every second of that twenty years.

You know, of course, about Jon. I'm sure you're with him often--maybe even now. He probably told you about Katie and Jonathan. I'm so sorry that he didn't get to know them very long. I'm so sorry you didn't get to know them at all. Did he tell you what they were like when he had to leave them? Katie in so many ways reminds me of you--good and bad. She really doesn't look anything like you--except for her height--and Jon probably told you about her gorgeous red hair. We've often wondered if you asked God to send us a little redhead. And you know she's named after you--Kathleen Kristi Lynn. What else could I have named her?

She's stubborn like you, likes to talk, loves music, and definitely has her own sense of style--like you. She keeps her room a mess. She takes joy in little children--like you did. Mom says Katie was her "rainbow," her promise that there was still good in this life. It's a little crazy, but she does something else weird that you did--she doesn't wear socks in the winter. Everytime I see her all bundled up--coat, hat, and gloves--I look down at her feet, and she's not wearing any socks because "they don't look good with flats." And I immediately think of you. Even after twenty years, you're not far from the edges of my mind.

And Jonathan! You would have loved seeing him as a little boy. I look at pictures of him from the past, and he was, without a doubt, the most beautiful little boy I've ever seen. It's hard to tell, at this point (he's sixteen), just who he is and what he will become, but he's smart--like Jon. He loves history and politics. He and Dad are best buddies--and always have been. They watch car races together, go to Taco Bell together (can you believe Dad eats at Taco Bell?), and Jonathan tells him the things he doesn't tell anyone else. It's been hard for him, all these years, having to live with two women, but he's starting to grow up, and I'm eager to see how God will use him and his abilities.

The years after Jon went to heaven were pretty hard. Here I was--early thirties, two little kids, and stuck in Michigan--away from my family. Mom and Dad were still reeling from losing you, and then Jon. They are my heroes, though. They moved up to Michigan, and they helped me raise the kids. We have quality parents. I taught school for awhile, had a brief stint working in a bookstore, went a couple of rounds with depression, dated (ugh!--a topic I'll save till I see you), and finally ended up with a job I love. All those years I couldn't help but wonder why God would take both you and Jon. So many times I've wished I could have my sister to pour my heart out to; to go shopping with; to make me laugh like you always did; to go on weekend getaways; to love on my poor, fatherless kids. I needed you after Jon died, so I guess it's something I'll never understand. One of the times I miss you the most is when I see sisters together--like Mom and Aunt Lou or Aunt Carol. I have some dear friends that I thank God for, but none of them could ever be you to me.

The good news: God is faithful, and He's carried me through all of this stuff. I am a different (and better)person for having suffered loss. Although He's taken away, He's also given--in abundance. I have Mom and Dad and Katie and Jonathan, Tim and Zella and Elizabeth and Garrett. (I'll let Tim tell you about them--but I love to see the cousins together, and you would too.) And I've been surprised by joy, to borrow a phrase. Almost two years ago, God gave me Henry, a better man than I could have asked for or imagined. When we got engaged, Katie said, "Mom, you're like a Disney princess," and that's how I've felt because that's how he always treats me. It's strange that someone so dear to me knows nothing of you, but he knows loss like I do. His younger brother died back in the nineties. He knows pain. He loves music and has a beautiful tenor voice. He's a godly man, and he loves Katie and Jonathan too. By the way--I have my dream job. I'm an editor at a Christian book publishing company. Life is good.

But I do miss you so, and I think about you everyday. One day soon we will all be together again. By then, January 16 will be long forgotten as a day of sadness. I can't wait to join you in the Great Adventure--to introduce you to my children, to sing with you, laugh with you, talk to you, my little sister.

Love,
Annette

New in 2010

2010-01-11T20:56:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year! I suppose that eleven days in still qualifies for a new year. It does seem like a long time since we were opening our gifts, celebrating with family, and visiting with friends on New Year's Eve, but even at that, I'm still trying to find my footing again and figuring out what to do with myself since the holiday busyness has wound down. Transitions can be a little unsettling at times

So since all of the possible "best of 2009" lists have been created and forgotten and we're a little bored with them by now, perhaps a better idea for my first post of 2010 is to recount all of the new things that have come with a new year--at least for me.

The biggest new thing is pictured above to the right. I wrote in my last post that Katie had an accident while she was driving my car to work. The Monday after Christmas, we learned that our insurance company had determined the car was totalled, and so the Tuesday after Christmas Henry and I--after some diligent research--went car shopping. I ended up with a 2007 Toyota Corolla, a car that we agree suits me much better than my Subaru Forester (which was an excellent car and served me well for eight years). My Toyota looks much like the one above, only it is black, my favorite car color. Also new is now getting used to driving a car that doesn't have all-wheel drive or an ABS, a challenging adjustment in a Michigan winter. It's all working out well.
I have a new responsibility at our church. I have been asked to serve on our church's library committee, and since book buying is definitely one of my spiritual gifts, it's all going to work out well. Unfortunately, our committee chair broke her ankle right before Christmas, and with only a few days left in the year and lots of book money left in the budget, I asked if she minded if I purchased the books that my pastor (a great list that was about a page and a half long) and another Bible study leader had requested. It's been kind of exciting coming home from work to yet another box of new books. Now we need to process them and get them on the shelves.
Another new thing is a responsibility I've completed. For a little over a year now, I've been editing grade 5 and 6 catechism curriculum for a new curriculum that has been developed by Pastor Scheuers and others in Chino, California. It's been an exercise in perseverance because often the last thing I'd want to do during the evening was yet more editing. But it's a worthy project, and it will be gratifying to see children in my own church, especially in fifth and sixth grade, carrying around the books that I edited next fall. It's new to come home from work, fix supper, and realize that I don't have to work on the catechism. And this leaves me open for some more new editing opportunities for Reformed Fellowship, the organization that my own Henry is president of.
I have new book review published in the January/February issue of Modern Reformation magazine. Last year I submitted my review of Why We're Not Emergent, and it finally made it in.
I'm starting a new reading list. I actually exceeded my reading goal for 2009: reading one fiction and one nonfiction title a month. I'm going to keep the goal the same this year. I failed to meet my goal of reading Calvin's Institutes during the Calvin 500 year celebration, but I got about halfway through, and I'm still plugging away.

So these are the things that are new for me in 2010. I'm sure there will be more, because if there's one thing that isn't new, it's that everything changes, often faster than we can keep up.

Two Scraped Fingers

2009-12-22T16:57:00.000-05:00

In an old Christmas song from the 1940s, a child sings, “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.” I’m suggesting a new version of that song this year for our family: “What I got for Christmas is two scraped fingers.” In fact, the two scraped fingers that we got this week as an early Christmas gift on Monday will probably be my favorite gift of all. Let me explain . . .

Monday morning, Katie was driving to her job at the Cornerstone University library and stopped for a yellow light at East Beltline and Lake (for those of you who are local). Unfortunately, the construction-company truck with a trailer that was behind her didn’t stop for the yellow light, and hit the back of her car (which is actually my car), spun her, and hit the driver’s side door, denting it so badly that she couldn’t open it to get out of the car. The back of the car was smashed in, the back window was shattered, the driver’s side was dented, and both the driver’s side windows were shattered. Katie walked away from the whole thing with two scraped fingers that didn’t even require bandages. And in the meantime, until Henry could get there, there were several people who showed great kindness to her, especially a woman who stayed at the scene, let Katie sit in her car, and called her boss for her to let him know what happened and why Katie wasn’t there.

In our family, December has historically been an eventful month. We have many birthdays, including my dad’s, my sister’s, my niece’s, and Henry’s—and those are just a few; there are more on both my and Henry’s side . It has also been a month of some devastating events: the car accident that ultimately took my sister’s life; my first husband’s leukemia diagnosis; the diagnosis about a year later that he had relapsed after his bone marrow transplant and the prognosis that he would die in about ten weeks.

But now I will also remember December as the month when my red-headed girl got into a terrible accident and walked away with two scraped fingers. And I will thank God that He gave us this gift of the protection of Katie’s life. I don’t think there’s much else I could want for Christmas this year.

*The photo is Katie and Jonathan, probably about 1994, my treasures of Christmas past.

What If Christmas Means a Little Bit More?

2009-12-18T11:56:00.000-05:00

With tumult all around us--the silliness that is "climate change," a failing economy, a culture that seems to have lost any semblance of principle or moral grounding, politicians whose only concern is forcing their own agenda on the people who would rather not have it--one of my favorite DHP authors offers some good news in this excerpt from a Resources for Your Ministry blog post that will be published on Christmas day:

"Human love has reasons to love—wealth, beauty, intelligence, or other attributes that make love’s object loveable and desirable. Divine love is not based on merit or deservedness. God loves you, not because you are yourself but because He is Himself: 'God is love' (1 John 4:8, 16). Philosopher Peter Kreeft argues that God’s love cannot answer the question, 'Why do I love thee?' He can only say, 'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways . . .'"

~David Roper

When They're Down Part 3

2009-12-14T22:01:00.000-05:00

As promised, I'm going to close out this series by talking about something that is admittedly negative, but necessary. There are ways that we can respond (or not respond) to someone who is need that can add insult to injury. Those who have endured hardship know that for every kindness sent their way, there often is an unhappy story of insensitivity because of the way someone has responded to their pain. Just as there are as many ways to be a blessing as there are difficult situations, there are probably as many ways to cause pain on top of pain. Those that I mention here come from my own experience or from the experiences of people I know. While most people don't want to "kick someone when he or she is down," sometimes we do just that out of a lack of understanding.

1. Don't think that you must comfort someone by coming up with some clever new thought or some inspirational words that will cheer that person up. Often, there are just no words. And our feeble attempts to cheer someone often result in the opposite effect. If you find yourself talking with someone who is suffering and you sense yourself starting a sentence with, "At least . . ." you might just want to stop there. For example, we might be tempted to tell someone who has just lost a job, "At least you have your health." It may be true, and that person should be thankful for good health, but that probably isn't the best time to mention it. I've heard of situations where a parent has lost a child, and someone may say, "At least you have two other healthy children." As much as we'd like it to, gain doesn't compensate for loss. Having those two healthy children doesn't take away the pain of the lost one. Rather than trying to find that "right thing" to say, we would do well to offer help (see my last post), give a hug, and tell that person we love him or her and are praying for the situation.

2. We shouldn't set a time clock for someone else's grief. Often those who have never experienced a tremendous loss become impatient with another's grief. We really don't have any right to tell someone else how long they may grieve a loss. There is grief that is both healthy and unhealthy, and when we see a grieving person shutting him or herself off from the world, unable to hold down a job, and generally unable to cope, we should be concerned and see about getting that person some help. But grief is a part of loss, and there is no one timetable on grief. I realized earlier this month that my sister who died in 1990 would have been forty this year. And at the same time, I realized that this January will mark twenty years since her death. Twenty years later and I still miss her very much. And there are times when I still cry for the pain of losing her. My mom recently talked about a former co-worker who gave her a very difficult time after my sister died. Our family spent a lot of time on the phone with each other after Kristi died, just being there for each other. And our pain didn't necessarily wait until work hours were over. Apparently I had called my mom at work one afternoon, struggling over my loss. The whole time my mom and I were talking on the phone, this co-worker kept walking past my mom's office. After the call was over, she nastily informed my mom that she shouldn't be spending all that time on the phone. She thought she knew just how long our family should grieve our loss and wanted to assign the times when we could express grief. This same person later suffered a miscarriage and, having suffered a significant loss, apologized to my mom for the way she treated her. We need to be patient and compassionate with those who are suffering and not impose our own ideas about how long they're allowed to grieve.

3. We shouldn't abandon those who are suffering. This is, perhaps, the most difficult thing my children and I have faced. It's hard to imagine that close family members would actually abandon those who are hurting, but I'm here to tell you from personal experience that it happens. There are some close family members who basically have cut themselves off from us. One excuse I've heard is that when one family member is in contact with us, it reminds him of his own pain at losing Jon (my children's dad and my first husband). We've also heard through the family grapevine that others have abandoned us because they haven't heard that we've been experiencing anything particularly difficult, and "no news is good news." Those same family members ignored Katie's high school graduation and couldn't be bothered to even send her a card to congratulate her. So I guess that means that "good news is no news" as well. This selfish abandonment has been a great source of pain for both Katie and me especially. We feel like we have been punished because Jon died. These same people, had they been able to look beyond their own selfishness and superficiality, could have been a great help and encouragement to the children and me in those difficult financial, emotional, and spiritual times. Instead, they increased our pain with their callousness. And they've missed out on knowing what great people Katie and Jonathan are. I know that my parents also have family members who abandoned them after my sister died, and I've heard of others who have experienced this as well. Jesus had something to say about this kind of behavior in the parable of the Good Samaritan. As difficult as it can be to "be there" for someone who is suffering, we need to remember that Christ did not abandon us. How much more, then, should we continue to stand by those around us who are in pain?

Being able to minister to someone who is going through a difficult time is a calling, a privilege, and a great blessing. It is a thrill to think that God might use us to be a help to one of His children who is in need. There will always be those around us who need help because Jesus reminded us that in this world there would be trials, and we need to be prepared to support those who are down rather than "kicking them."

When They're Down Part 2

2009-12-02T19:58:00.000-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a post about our duty to reach out to others when they're going through a time of pain. We tend to think in terms of whether we should help someone or not when, in fact, it really isn't an option for us as believers. In 2 Corinthians 1:4, Paul tells us that God comforts us in all of our troubles so that in turn we can comfort others who are in trouble. Sometimes we persuade ourselves that our help isn't necessary--maybe the sufferer has a supportive family or maybe we assume that there really isn't anything that we can do, and there are probably others who will pick up the slack.

But if we were all soldiers fighting a literal war and one of our comrades was injured, we wouldn't stop to say, "Do you need help?" If we were passing by and saw someone bleeding, we (hopefully) wouldn't keep on going because we figured the next person who came by would take care of the situation. We need to feel that same sense of obligation for those going through life's injuries.

Do you know anyone experiencing the following:

Death of spouse

Death of close family member

Divorce

Marital separation

Jail term of close family member

Personal injury or illness

Loss of job due to termination

Change in financial state

If you do, then you know someone who needs help. These circumstances are among the most stressful life events that a person can experience. So the question isn't whether people in one of these situations needs help--they do; rather, the question is what position are you in to offer assistance. What can you do?

Assistance is as individual as the need. We need to be creative about helping others. Put yourself in their position, as best you can, and think about what you might need in that situation. Ask that person how he or she is doing and really listen. As you pay attention, you may get an idea of how you can help. Above all, don't just say, "Let me know if you need help." Simply saying that doesn't mean you've now done your duty. People who need help don't know what you are willing and able to do. And sometimes they're too emotionally weak to even ask for help or know what they need until you suggest it. Open-ended offers are no offers at all.

Here are some of the creative ways that people are helping others:

~Henry and I were recently visiting with an elderly couple. The husband is terminally ill and is so weak he is barely able to talk any more. The wife was telling us that a young couple--fairly new to our church--was asking them if they could be of help in any way. The incident occurred earlier this fall, so the younger man asked if he and his wife could come rake their leaves. And with gratitude, the older couple accepted their offer. I love how the younger man made his offer real by stating something specific.

~A family in our church has had a very difficult year. The problems of job loss were compounded when our friend fell and shattered his elbow. The family heats their house with a wood furnace, and winter is upon us. On two Saturdays, members of the youth group and their leader cut wood, and this past Saturday a group of men got them well stocked so that they will be able to get through most of the winter now.

~A friend with a large family has had to take on a part-time job to make ends meet while her husband is out of work. One day another woman from our church just showed up at her door with lasagna and bread for the family's dinner. Note--she just took action and didn't even ask my friend if she needed help or would like a meal.

~After my first husband died, I was single parenting two small children. Our pastor and his wife set aside an afternoon a week to take care of my kids so that I could run errands, get groceries--do things I needed to do child-free.

~Before I was married to Henry and while the kids and I were at our previous church, a deacon called me to see if we had any needs. I explained that we really had no financial needs at that point but that I would appreciate it if the deacons could find a young man who would like to be a "big brother" to Jonathan--do "guy" things with him. I would be happy to pay Jonathan's way if someone would spend time with him. And the deacons sent us Tom, who did just that for several years until he got married, had children, and became a deacon himself.

There are other ways we can help:

For those in financial need--gift cards to grocery stores, for gas, cash gifts. As one who has been both the recipient and the giver of these kinds of gifts, I prefer anonymity. It can be awkward to receive the charity of another, and, as a giver, I'd like to think the receiver is thanking God for what I've given rather than me.

For those who have just lost spouses, especially the elderly--invite them to your house for a meal. It can be so very lonely; companionship may be the best thing you can offer. And don't feel that it's necessary to serve an elaborate meal or offer riveting entertainment. That lonely person will be happy just to be able to eat with other people and have someone to talk to. For widows--does she need help with home maintenance, car maintenance, financial concerns?

Can you help a single parent or a family struggling with illness by offering child care?

If you know of someone who is out of work, watch for openings at your company and let him or her know if a job is available. Do you have any home maintenance projects that you could hire an unemployed person to do?

The possibilities are as numerous and various as the problems that people have. I know I will never forget some of the kindnesses that have been shown to me and Katie and Jonathan during the difficult times. While we may not be able to solve others' problems, we can and must do something to help carry the burden. We mustn't kick people when they're down with our own indifference. And that leads us to my next post where I will describe some of the ways we actually hurt people who are down by our attitudes and actions.

But before that, if you have any creative suggestions for how we can help one another or special ways someone has helped you, please put them in the comments.

Top Ten Things to Be Thankful For

2009-11-23T19:58:00.000-05:00

I like Thanksgiving. Some of my fondest childhood memories are associated with Thanksgiving at my grandma's house. I would often go to Grandma's house early, and she'd let me help her set the table with the special dishes we would use only on Thanksgiving, along with her decorative salt and pepper shakers. We'd gather with family, eat the special foods my grandma prepared, eat in the formal dining room (a rare thing), and then spend time playing games.

I don't often like to think about being a grandma because that would suggest getting even older--and neither of my children is quite ready yet for parenting. But I hope that someday, some little one will come early to Grandma's house, help to set the table with the pretty dishes, eat the special food that she makes, and play games after the dishes are all done.

And how does that tie in with my Thanksgiving top ten? Like this:

1. I'm thankful for wonderful childhood memories of Thanksgiving at my grandma's house.

2. I'm thankful that I still have my grandma's pretty dishes, and I'm thankful that this year we'll be using them for our wonderful meal. And I'm thankful in advance that everyone is going to be incredibly careful while they use Grandma Walborn's special dishes and not a one will be broken.

3. I'm thankful to have a job.

4. I'm thankful for my family.

5. I'm thankful that my parents gave me piano lessons.

6. I'm thankful for my church and my pastor.

7. I'm thankful that our dining area faces east, so that in the morning, when we eat breakfast, we can watch the sun rise.

8. I'm thankful that we live in a neighborhood with sidewalks so that we can go on nice walks sometimes.

9. I'm thankful that I found some friends who wanted to have a book group. And I'm thankful for all of our get-togethers and all the great conversations we have.

10. I'm thankful that I have everything I need.

May you be blessed with many things to be thankful for--and with knowing the One to whom we give thanks.

Kicking People When They're Down, or Going Rogue on Someone's Pain

2009-11-17T22:09:00.001-05:00

My friend and I have been throwing around the idea of writing a book about what not to say or do to people who are going through a time of crisis in their lives. While thankfully my life is relatively pain-free right now, I spent a lot of time in the nineties grieving the illnesses and deaths of my twenty-year-old sister and my thirty-five-year-old husband, so I know a little about pain and suffering. My friend has been having an extremely difficult year (an understatement) and is (unfortunately) an expert in suffering as well. I have to credit her with the subtitle for this post.

As old as history itself is the reality that we aren't always very good comforters in the body of Christ. Job's friends set a bad precedent, and we often follow their poor example--if we make any attempt at all to provide relief and comfort. Sometimes we hold back because we don't know what to say, so we don't do or say anything at all. Other times we spew cliches like "at least you have your health," "God is working this for good," or "God won't give you more than you can bear," thinking that we can somehow neutralize the bitter pill of God's providence with a syrupy sweet sentiment.

If we Christians are soldiers in a battle, why do we tend to shoot our wounded by spraying them with Hallmark-sentiment BBs? If we were in a literal battle and our comrade was gushing blood, we wouldn't try to help him by giving him jelly beans. And we would never commit the worst offense imaginable but one that happens often: abandonment. We add insult to injury, delaying recovery for the sufferer.

It is difficult to know what to say when someone tells us about a crisis he or she is experiencing. What we'd like to do for our friends or loved ones is take away the problem, but that's usually impossible. The best we can hope to accomplish is to provide some relief, but that's an important accomplishment--one that is our duty toward our brothers and sisters.

So what can we say? Unless someone comes to me asking for advice, wanting to talk through a situation, I restrict myself to the following, depending on the circumstances:

*I/We love you.
*I'm/We're praying for you (if I really am).
*Can I help you by? . . .

That last one is the key, I think. James tells us to show our faith by our works, and so if we truly see someone with a need, we'll do something about it. And because so many people are going through difficult times right now, I mean to share in future posts suggestions about what I've learned from my own experiences about what helps and what hurts.

I was thinking a few days ago about the things we say to people, and one of the favorite verses to quote is Romans 8:28, truly a beautiful promise that God will work all things for good for those He loves. I used to dread hearing this verse, even though I knew it was true. Those of us in the body of Christ are one, and we tend to forget (because we're not directly affected) that that person's job loss, the death of that person's spouse, her cancer diagnosis, their rebellious child--all of these are our sorrows too.

Is it possible that God is not just using that pain for the good of the one most directly affected but for my good as well? How can something that isn't happening directly to me work for my good? The Holy Spirit's work is often a mystery to us, but what I do know is that another's pain gives me the opportunity to show love, compassion, to be hospitable, to be a servant, to offer tangible gifts--all working for my good as I'm conformed to the image of Christ.

We need to work on being better comforters.

Jonathan at Sixteen

2009-11-09T18:33:00.000-05:00

On November 3, Jonathan turned sixteen. The last year and a half has been a time of great growth for Jonathan--physically, but emotionally and spiritually as well. Those who know and talk with him quickly learn that one subject that he is most passionate about is politics. In fact, at a recent parent-teacher conference, Jonathan's history teacher told me he sees him with a PhD in history or political science someday.

This year, Jonathan decided to put his interests to work (and he was also told by his parents that he was required to take up an extracurricular project) and has become the political analyst for his school newspaper. He's kind of a mix of Alex from Family Ties, Rush Limbaugh, and Sean Hannity. I'm working on introducing him to the writing flair of Peggy Noonan, but for now, he has a style all his own.

Since it was his birthday, Jonathan has agreed to be my birthday guest blogger. Here is his own recent article, reprinted from the West Michigan Lutheran Mustang News, entitled "You Lie!" (By the way, Jonathan was born on election day 1993; we're wondering if that might have something to do with his interest in politics now.)

You Lie!
by Jonathan Selden
Mustang News Analysis

As many of you remember, during a speech given by President Obama to a joint session of Congress, Representative Joe Wilson (from South Carolina) made his opinion of the president's policies outlined in the speech clear to everyone in the room. When President Obama was trying to put down several claims conservatives have made about the reform bill, he aptly brought up the situation of illegal immigration and reform. The president boldly stated that it was not true that illegal immigrants would be eligible for health care. Joe Wilson shouted out, "You lie," spurring some boos and a glare from the president.

Was this behavior acceptable? No, it was not. Was it deserving of punishment? It probably was. The Democrats pressured Joe Wilson to apologize for what he did. The South Carolina representative willingly did so. The House of Representatives then voted on a gesture of disapproval of Joe Wilson's reactions.

What was the truth value of Joe Wilson's statements? What was the truth value of President Obama? In reality, both sides were truthful, and both sides were wrong. The president's remarks were, in a sense, truthful in saying that the current bill does not allow illegal aliens to participate in the government-run program . . . Therefore, Joe Wilson was wrong to say the president lied.

However, . . . the language [in the bill] doesn't exactly forbid aliens from partaking in the plan.; illegal aliens just can't get federal help to participate.Congress struck down a measure proposed by Republicans that would require proof of citizenship to be able to have access to the government-run plan . . . Suddenly, . . . Joe Wilson's comment doesn't seem so bitterly partisan . . . It is correct in a sense that the statements made by President Obama were misleading . . .

When we all come of the age to be eligible to vote, it is important to question the honesty of each candidate. Even if there is no election, keeping the government honest is something that should be the responsibility of the governed, or risk letting the government for and by the people become a government for and by the governors.

A Hymn to God the Father

2009-11-03T21:33:00.001-05:00

Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done;
For I have more.

Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sins their door?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallow’d in a score?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done;
For I have more.

I have a sin of fear, that when I’ve spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
But swear by Thyself that at my death Thy Son
Shall shine as He shines now and heretofore:
And having done that, Thou hast done;
I fear no more.

~John Donne (1573–1631)