Potpourri – Page 11 – The Welcome Home

today’s diamonds

Pools are forming around every tree as rain pours from booming thunderous clouds and lightning flashes across the already bright sky. Again hammering thunder and lightning booms and cracks across the sky… more rain now soaks everything in sight. Flashes of lightning seem to introduce more striking booms of thunder, ushering in more showers of rain.

The breeze is fresh and aromatic, the greens, reds, yellows and whites are more brilliant, more fragrant, than earlier in the morning sunlight. The sheer curtains are billowing in the strong breezes. We’ve just finished another lunch on the lanai and we’ve been studying the travel guide and planner to see what tomorrow holds for us: another day in paradise.

More with the passing of each day here, we’re staggered by the reality that this is the Lord’s doing and it is, truly, marvelous in our eyes. You know how I say, when something’s so big – so amazing – even so difficult to fathom: this is so big, the Lord must be in it. Well, that’s just exactly what I’m thinking of this whole Hawaiian adventure – this dream. For it truly is so big – God must be in it.

Every day we ask each other: do you know why we’re here yet? And, so far, every day I say or he says, no… no, I don’t know yet. So, every day we’re looking for the King. We’re looking to see where Jesus is and where He wants us to be, what He wants us to do.

We decided to go to a presentation this morning — we knew it would likely be a “waste” of their time since we’re clearly not in a position to take advantage of “once-in-a-lifetime” low rates and “last chance” opportunity to invest in a vacation club membership. But it wasn’t a waste.

Through the whole presentation, we were able to have more personal conversation with the representative — a pleasant guy who was more than willing to share about his life and family when asked. After a series of introductory questions we conveyed that we had, perhaps, a whole different view of vacation. And, somewhere along the way, I think he must’ve suspected we weren’t going to be buyers – but he wasn’t certain. At the close of the presentation (after a couple more representatives stopped by the table to ‘sweeten the deal’ for us), we were able to ask Steve if he had a spiritual background. When he related that it had been sporadic but told of being an alter boy and spending time in church with a grandmother, we asked a few more questions and had a good conversation. To the last question, he answered Wes by saying he knew if he died today he’d probably go to heaven – being a good person and believing there’s a God. As we talked a little more, he was tearful as he related that he really wanted to be a good dad, that he missed his wife (both not on the Island, currently) and wanted to get things right. We told him we’d keep in in prayer and would write to him. He seemed genuinely glad.

As we prepared to go, another gentleman came to our table — this conversation was probably the most pleasant as we could simply relate that we weren’t going to be purchasing any package — not simply because of the expense, but because we couldn’t just walk in and make such a great financial decision in a 2 hour space of time. Even if we had the money. We related that though we were the blessed recipients of this luxurious trip, this is not “normal” o-o.

As we talked, he asked incredulously, do you really have eleven kids? And are some of your kids really in mission work? Then, stammering, he began: Are you… And we said, interrupting his question (you had to know it was going to be one of the three: mormon, catholic, crazy), no, we’re not mormon, not catholic (and didn’t tell him we weren’t crazy). He asked what religion or denomination… and we said we’re Christians — just following Jesus. So eleven kids… I have four, he marveled, and asked how that came about that we had so many. So, we told him that through a series of events we just came to the decision to make the Lord be Lord of the womb as He was and is Lord of our lives. And we just waited on Him — everything’s been His – His provision, His blessing. We did say that they didn’t all come at once — laughing, he said, yeah… it’s not like a lot of kids are a litter. We laughed and said yes, we get this response a lot and want to ease people’s concern… and tell them, they came along one at a time… the oldest being nearly 32 and the youngest nearly 10 years old.

Our conversation continued with him telling of his life here on the Island, his decision to head back to the mainland and, most importantly, that he is a believer. We talked further about his walk with the Lord, and what the Lord is doing in his life. He told us of being a part of a house church here on the Island and how he came to Christ through a series of meetings at Calvary Chapel in Ca. He shared some marvelous things the Lord had done for him and for his family. He continued talking with us for a bit — but we felt the need to draw the time to a close, knowing that he was busy after all and this wasn’t part of the business. Anyway… we parted — both knowing the Lord had been in our midst. He thanked us for coming. The Diamond Card we received as a parting gift will enable to receive discounted rates at local businesses while we’re here. But we were thinking we already received some precious gems in conversation today.

As we walked back to our place, we were both thankful to the Lord for providing us with great opportunities today. The rain continues to fall like diamonds from the sky.

Consider this…

You’re never as right as you think you are — and — you’re never as wrong as you think you are. Deep down, I know this — and you probably know this, too. But we, too often, get stuck dwelling on our dilemmas or grieving over our losses. We get stuck, too, in maintaining our ‘rightness’ and fail to stop and consider our ‘wrong-ness’ about a matter.

And then someone comes along and after hearing part of the story, illuminates the darkened or obscured side of the matter. And then we see, much to our regret, that maybe, just maybe, we’ve been wrong about that matter after all. Wise counsel is invaluable. Impartial counsel, even more so.

If you remember this next week and you’ll be miles ahead of the pack.

But the pack just might still believe they’re more right than you. Maybe they’ll even think that your wrongs are worse than their wrongs. Worse yet, maybe they’ll convince you to believe that your wrongs are the worst wrongs. That last one’s usually the devil, by the way. Most of us a pretty good at defending our right to be right.

Truth is, the answer is usually somewhere in the middle — but we’re usually too right or too wrong to see that.

When these different scenarios happen to me — or happen in my life — I don’t usually want to do the necessary. The necessary is to look at the situation from their perspective. And then to ask the question: is there any truth in this? Usually I’ll find that, yes, there is a smidge of truth — just a smidge. If that’s my finding, then I’ve learned that sometimes I’m being too prideful to objectively consider the problem. I then need to ask a next question and it is this: if they were me and I were them, what would I think? Hmmm? Hmmm. Perhaps I am wrong. Okay, yes, I am wrong.

When I come to this revelation, then I know I’ve got to do whatever I can to make that situation right. Regardless the outcome, I need to, so far as it depends on me, do whatever it takes to make the situation right. I need to get myself in such a state as that I am not seeking to defend my rights or to point out their wrongs. And, that’s so NOT easy sometimes — especially when we perceive we have a legitimate reason for our behaviour or that that person has some of their information wrong.

There’s always more to the story. More to a situation than meets the eye. And usually, we’d both come to the same conclusions had we all the facts in the beginning.

In a houseful of various personalities, you’ll have lots of opportunities to practice these experiences — lots of occasions to instruct others about them, too. I have found it’s so much easier to teach this to others than to experience this personally. But I can relate these lessons to others, though, because I know them experientially.

Just remember: You’re never as right as you think you are — and — you’re never as wrong as you think you are.

April Fool’s Day

Well, I’m thinking that no April Fool’s Day would be complete without first agreeing with the Psalmist:

The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God. They are corrupt, they have done abominable works, there is none that doeth good.”

And then, including an admonishment from the Proverbs:
He that walketh with wise men shall be wise: but a companion of fools shall be destroyed.” –13.20

April Fool’s Day has long been a day of silly tricks and pranks at our house — the one day a year that shenanigans can be played and everyone’s on the lookout for what they might find next.

Early on we had to make some “house-rules” for this day so that no one would get hurt, waste food, break anything or cause anything to break. You know, those unintended consequences of “fun.” It’s almost always those unintended consequences that get us, don’t they?! Those things that come back to nip our heels or pay us back when we least expect.

So, we made rules early on — and with three sets of boys, plus one, we’ve had quite a host of hilarious AprilFool’s Day pranks. As I shared on my Facebook page, the first son still holds the records for ingenuity! He seemed to pull out all the stops when it came to creatively playing jokes — but, amazingly, they were always within the established boundaries — and very funny.

The boundaries were set early on when someone put salt in the sugar and sugar in the salt. One trade wasn’t so bad — the other was. Another time, when one put green food colouring in the milk, no one would drink it — so, that’s when we decided: pranks could not wreck/waste food.

Another time, one took all the hinges off the doors… no one ever got hurt, but with so many littles at the time, we thought perhaps someone could get hurt, so: no dangerous tricks. They were careful, from then on, to do creative and clever tricks.

So, I’ll tell you about one such AprilFool’s Day… quite some time ago. I should have known there was going to be a whole lot of surprising when I walked down the hall to see that everything from the living room (except the piano) was stacked in the kitchen — a room that was not all that large! How he moved everything in there, I still marvel. And, I mean: everything. I honestly laughed so hard… seeing just the kitchen table and chairs in the middle of the living room.

Okay, one more. Another AprilFool’s Day… again, I knew I was in for a real fun time when I opened my bedroom door and the other two bedroom doors shut! And, as I walked down the hall I noticed the living room lamp was off, so I switched on the light – still no lamp-light. I looked around the table to see that the cord was unplugged – so I plugged in the lamp using the cord that looked to me as if it had simply fallen out of the socket. Well, that cord was attached to a “boombox” that was situated under the table. Omy – what a shock when that music was blaring!! I couldn’t unplug that cord fast enough!! :o) Then, I went into the kitchen to fix breakfast — where discovered that the faucet didn’t work, so I opened the doors to reach under and turn on the water… only to see the wall phone had been placed under the sink with a note taped to it: “Time to call the plumber! the note read. Well, when I did finally get the water turned on, it was a shocking experience — for the sprayer had been taped down and sprayed water straight out into the kitchen. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t instantly turn off the water. We all laughed and laughed. I think that little sprayer trick was played many times that day.

And that same sprayer trick was played here in the kitchen today by children who weren’t even alive in the time of the above stories.

It’s funny how life goes… it sort of repeats and repeats itself. Or so it seems, sometimes.

They’re not the only ones to play a few tricks. Stretch-tite plastic wrap stretched evenly over the toilet bowl is virtually undetected. At first. The first time I ever did that was a very long time ago when I was working as a cook for a Christian school & daycare… and the men’s bathroom was where the toiletbowl wrapping happened. When the pastor of that large church came into the lunchroom… I was told he was laughing as he shared with some of the other employees about the AprilFool’s prank. I remained very busy cooking. I don’t know if I will ever meet him again, but if I do, I’ll apologize. ;o)

CSA: Risk Telling the Story

Telling stories of your yesterdays bores some people, encourages some people and inspires some people — embarrasses some people, too. I know, many times through the years, I’ve witnessed the reactions women have when some woman opens her mouth to share her story. I’ve seen it when I’ve shared my story. They’ve heard it all before and they’re weary at the thought of having to hear it ah-gain. People totally write other people off when they’re weary of hearing their stories.

Sadly, as some poor woman begins to utter the first sentence of her story (again), her audience, as if cued to do so, glazes over. They seem to go into auto-pilot as they remain in their chairs, appearing to be listening, but really they’re mentally rehearsing their to-do lists, mentally reorganizing their craft drawers, mapping out their gardens or surreptitiously inserting an earbud to listen to their latest iTune download. And sadly, though it might not seem like it, she probably sees all this, I’ve seen all this.

But she tells her story. Again. I’ve told my story. Again.

This past week in our Sunday Meeting, a brother was sharing the culmination of seven year’s of prayer regarding a matter he’d been dealing with and how the Lord worked so mightily and so mercifully in his life and on his behalf. And then he shared a most encouraging and instructive admonition. And it was this: when someone’s going through something, when someone’s dealing with something, listen to them — listen to their story — even if you’ve heard it all before — even if you’re tired of hearing it. Listen to them… because even if it is tiring to hear the story again and again, the person telling the story is still going through the trial — still dealing with a struggle, a heartache, a sorrow — whatever. You might want to just move on… but, truly, if they’re still in the midst of a trial… they’re not moving on yet. And if you hang in there with them, then when the trial or the storm passes, you will be able to sincerely rejoice with them.

To ignore them or to apathetically check out as they’re talking is just as bad as saying: “Been there, Done that” when a person describes something they’re facing. The been there, done that phrase is really so selfish and disrespectful — though meanness or disrespect is not intended, it feels that way to the one sharing the story.

And so it is with the woman who is telling her story – in this case, about CSA. Especially if it’s just recently that she’s begun to risk revealing her story – her past – and her experiences because of it. It’s a terribly risky thing to do – the telling of the story. Because, by now, she’s faced the truth, she’s risked not being believed, she’s risked being harmed (further), she’s probably told on the perpetrator, she’s come out of the shadow of silence and shame and now she’s daring to be vulnerable with her hearers. Maybe even again. And again.

In the telling of her story, she’s risking judgment – real or imagined. She’s risking ridicule – real or imagined and, further, she’s risking her own feelings, her own suppressed memories, suppressed anger and fear coming to the surface all over again. Those things feel real — not imagined and the risk is real — not imagined.

What she doesn’t know going into it is how the Lord is using the experiences in her life in the lives of others. What she doesn’t know is that God is so big — so great — so merciful — that because He never wastes a thread, He can and will use what she’s gone through — what she’s going through and He will continue healing, working and reworking in her so that her life reflects His glory.

We rarely see that our sphere of influence is much greater than our sphere of acquaintance and the story we’ve told today, in a roomful of seemingly apathetic hearers, just might have fallen into the tender ears and heart of a sister who has a story she’s afraid to tell. The telling of the story may be just the encouragement she needs to muster the courage to tell her story.

If just one sister is helped, then the risk was so totally worth it.
If just one woman is helped by these CSA blog entries, then it’s all been worth it to me.

CSA; I’ve never told anyone this before, but…

That’s how the stories usually begin… that’s how they usually come tumbling out of mouth of a woman sitting beside me. The story is actually prefaced with: Can I talk to you? And after I say, Of course, hot tears seem to well up in the eyes of the one who desperately needs to tell someone — someone who will listen, someone who will understand, someone who will care.

[ Because of something I might have shared there in a talk or because of the “safe-feeling” of the setting – maybe it’s after a Bible study, a Ladies’ Tea or at a Women’s Retreat – I think women know they can talk to me; they know I will listen, they know I will understand and they know I will care. What they might not know (or believe) is that not only will all those things be true, but I will also pray with and for them. I’m so glad for these opportunities. I marvel how the Lord’s continually brought to mind many women I’ve talked with over the years. And though I might’ve forgotten their name – I still remember their stories, I still remember their faces and still care that they shared their stories with me. And I pray for them. These opportunities are some of the ways the Lord has shown me that what the devil intended for evil, God intended for good — for my good and His glory. ]

And so, their story usually begins something like this: I’ve never told anyone this before, but when I was eleven (or what ever age) my step-father (or uncle or brother or neighbour or family friend, etc.) sexuallyabused me. I didn’t know it was sexualabuse at the time, but he told me not to tell anyone… and I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and I knew there would be trouble if I told anyone… but I can’t live with this secret anymore. This secret is killing me. I just can’t keep this in anymore.

Even if she told one person initially, she’ll usually remain pretty silent after that. Maybe only ever just hinting at a problem. Because the fear remains. And then shame moves in and brings along shame’s traveling companion: guilt. She wonders how could that have happened? And then she resolves, that will never happen again! But she remains silent. That silence lasts for years — creative coping mechanisms sort of carry her through; she learns to adapt to fear and insulates herself from further abuse… she becomes adept at stuffing her emotions, masking them or pretending they don’t exist. Lots of denial, lots of shame, destructive habits and character issues. Doubt and fear become second nature and, generally speaking, it will be a long time before a girl or woman will ever divulge what happened.

And for most of us, sooner or later, a breaking point washes over us and we find trust in someone and can finally say: I’ve never told anyone this before but…

And there’s some strange comfort in the telling. It’s not the same smug wielding of power that comes when a child says: I’m telling! to a sister or friend who took the last cookie or whatever. It’s a different — a freeing revelation — one that looks fear in the face and says: you cannot hurt me anymore. It’s one that takes that secret and blows it to pieces, saying: It’s out… the secret’s out. The secret isn’t secret anymore.

And after the telling… after the woman’s straightened herself in the chair, wiped her tears and has taken a deep breath, she looks up and, maybe for the first time, experiences a small bit of relief — knowing that : now someone else knows and now someone else cares — finally, someone understands. I totally understand. And, truth is, lots of “someone’s” understand.

At this point, I usually ask the woman (if she’s married) if she’s candidly talked with her husband about this. And, actually, such is usually the case — women have usually at least told their husband. But if not, I always suggest that’s the next person to talk with and I pray with her that by the grace of God, she will do that right away. I always feel like I wish I could somehow convey to a husband, in advance, hey, your wife’s got a very, very heavy burden to reveal to you… you already know deep down that she has some deep seated hurts – some wounds and scars that need attention and healing. And you’re going to need to be ready to bear this burden with her…but I don’t and so, with trust in the merciful Lord, I mentally give the matter to Him.

If the woman is not married, then the matter is wholly different — and prayer for wisdom and understanding is the first measure to take. And then, very special attention to working out with her, talking her through the revealing, through the facing of the truth — to parents or whomever is ‘responsible’ for her care.

In the end, I sure pray she will carry through and will be believed when she says, I’ve never told anyone this before, but…

From John Piper

In 1979 Bob Dylan recorded the song “Gotta Serve Somebody.” For those who listen with biblically informed ears the refrain echoes Paul and Jesus:

Paul: “You are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness” (Romans 6:16).

Jesus: “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other” (Matthew 6:24).

Dylan’s refrain:

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed,
You’re gonna have to serve somebody.
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody.

This is one of the truest songs Dylan has written. John Lennon was so angry with it that he wrote an obscene counter-song, “Serve Yourself,” which was so bad, Yoko Ono published an apologetic explanation of it in 1998.

To celebrate Dylan’s getting this truth so right, I have written new lyrics, not because they are better, but because they are updated for my religious world.

If you’d like to read it, and you don’t know the song, it might help to have the tune in your head as you read the new lyrics. You can listen to it here:

“Gotta Serve Somebody (Remix)” by John Piper

You may like Bob Dylan or you may think he’s trash,
You may not remember when he had a mustache,
You may think the man is stoned, his throat is full of tacks,
You may wish his blood had been poured out on the tracks.

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed,
You’re gonna have to serve somebody.
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody.

You may be a modern Jew, and think your Bobby’s great,
You may be from Hibbing, by a simple twist of fate,
You may think religion is a crock and a sham,
You may shut your ears at the blood of the Lamb.