God is Not Hard to Please

One of the things I am doing while on sabbatical is reading through my journals which began February 10, 1982.  (I don’t know if I’ll read through all of them, but it is an interesting adventure through the part of my life I was willing to write about.  I’m up to July 1983 so far.)  I’ve noticed a trend toward spiritual navel-gazing in my entries and a dissatisfaction with how I’m doing as a follower of Jesus.  (I’m sure I considered it a holy discontent at the time.  It will interesting to see if this trend continues up to the present.)  The entry for July 14, 1983 includes a quote from A.W. Tozer’s book, The Root of Righteousness.

“[God] is not hard to please, though He may be hard to satisfy.  He expects of us only what He has Himself first supplied.  He is quick to mark every simple effort to please Him, and just as quick to overlook imperfections when He knows we meant to do His will.”

“We please Him most, not by frantically trying to make ourselves good, but by throwing ourselves into His arms with all our imperfections, and believing that He understands everything and loves us still.”

Wouldn’t it be great to live in the reality of “throwing ourselves into His arms with all our imperfections, and believing that He understands everything and loves us still.”  On my best days this is where I live.  On my worst days I don my Pelagian suit and work to earn His love.  Today I think I’ll rest in His arms.

Everything God Made is Good

I was driving three of my grandchildren home yesterday afternoon.  Driving them home is like a box of chocolates… you never know what you’re going to get. We sang Old MacDonald, we pretended to be various characters in Peter Pan, we pointed out the color of cars near us.  At one point Raya, the four-year-old, began to talk about dragons.  Then she said, “We need a song about dragons.”  Without skipping a beat Abby, the almost-three-year-old, began to sing:

Who made dragons?  God did.

Who made dragons?  God did.

Who made dragons?  God did.

Any everything God made is good.

I had two thoughts.  First, if there are or ever have been dragons on the earth, God certainly made them.

The second is how glad I am we sing that little song often.  (Dragons is a first.  Usually it’s the people in our family, farm animals, vegetation.  You get the picture.)  Teaching the truth about God to a child is always a challenge but this little childhood song captures one aspect of God pretty well.  Whatever exists, God made.  And everything God made is good.  (You’ll remember that even the fallen angels were good, but having given them the ability to choose, they chose badly.  And I still haven’t figured out the good in cockroaches or mosquitos but that’s a blog for another time.)

So as you journey through today, sing along with Abby and fill in the blanks with what you see.  Everything God made is good.

When Your Son, [Father] or Ox Falls in the Well

One of the many times Jesus healed someone on the Sabbath, the lawyers and Pharisees complained about Jesus breaking Sabbath.  Luke records Jesus’ reply, “Which of you, having a son or an ox that has fallen into a well on a Sabbath day, will not immediately pull him out?”  [Sound of crickets]  Then Luke records, “And they could not reply to these things.” The answer was so obvious that even those who prided themselves on their understanding of the Law had no reply.

My long awaited and twice postponed sabbatical was scheduled to begin (and did begin) on February 9.  On January 28 my mother suddenly and unexpectedly passed away and for the next twenty-five days my “son [in this case dad] fell into the well” of my sabbatical.  I got word of mom’s passing on a Wednesday morning and was in Coeur d’Alene with my father by Thursday. Fortunately through all this my sister and brother were on hand to help lighten the load.  A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. I spent four days being with he and my siblings and helping him sort out what comes next.  We met with dad’s pastor of twenty years to plan the memorial.  We arranged for a casket and made decisions about burial.  We began to look at insurance, banking, and transportation.  I had a prior commitment to be with the district staff at EFCA headquarters so I flew from Spokane to Minneapolis for four days.  Then I flew back to Spokane to spend more time with dad and finalize details for his move from his hometown of seventy-seven years to a place of great wickedness, Southern California.

I flew home for two days before returning with Sharon to take care of the final packing and loading of his furniture and most of his possessions so that they would arrive in SoCal about the same time he would.  We also experienced a wonderful memorial service that glorified God and honored mom.  Monday morning, Sharon, dad and I flew to Orange County and the next day his possessions arrived and by Wednesday he was moved into his new apartment.

Today is the first day of the rest of my sabbatical.  I must admit that there were times when a niggling resentment rose almost to the surface over the fact that my first sabbatical in thirty-nine years of ministry was beginning not only with no rest or the beginning of all those wonderful things I had planned but also with an added load of pressure, stress and details.  When those thoughts began to percolate to the surface I was reminded of the story in Luke that began this blog.  I was focusing on what my sabbatical (extended Sabbath) was supposed to be according to my law.  But it was clear that my father had fallen in a well and he needed me more than I needed the first two weeks of my sabbatical to be about my agenda for refreshing, retooling and reconnecting with God and with Sharon.

How easy it is for us to side with the lawyers and the Pharisees and “keep” the law but lose sight of its purpose to glorify God by loving Him and loving others.  God has privileged me to be in a place where I could have the time, the patience and the technical know-how to connect with dad’s social security, retirement and banking so that, for him, the transition from Coeur d’Alene to Stanton has been rather flawless.  It’s a small price to pay to serve him. Like the lawyers and Pharisees I’ll keep my replies to myself when Jesus asks me why I shouldn’t spend a couple weeks of my sabbatical pulling my dad from the well.

3,267

The last couple days of December I’m usually setting up my file folders for receipts for the next year, choosing my Bible reading plan, updating my Excel spreadsheet for monitoring my work hours, and all those other things we “J’s” do (think Meyers-Briggs) to prepare for the new year. 

In my app, Remember the Milk, I was changing the daily recurring task, Bible reading, to Bible reading/Journaling when RTM pointed out with a very large, impressive dialogue box that I had completed 3,267 tasks in 2013.  And that’s just the ones I entered into RTM.  Plus I have a few on my list to do tomorrow.  That works out to about 272 tasks per month, 63 tasks per year or 9 tasks per day.  Doesn’t seem like many, but at least I finished them.

I don’t know quite what to think about those 3,267 tasks.  Some are weekly recurring tasks like taking out the cans to the street for pick up, backing up the hard drive or mowing the lawn.  Some are daily recurring tasks like Bible reading, scooping the back yard or reporting on Yammer.  Some are monthly meetings with Fana and Alan.  Many are one-time tasks, both personal and professional.  And then there are all those tasks that get done but never make it to the RTM list.

But it does raise the question, “If I’m going to be busy (and I am), what am I going to be busy about?”  There are no real do-overs in life.  We get one shot at every moment of time.  This is a good time of year to consider again how we’re spending our time.  As I have often mentioned, only three things last forever:  God, God’s Word (the Bible) and the souls of people.  It seems like those are three great places to spend the majority of my time.

Outlawed Grief, a Curse Disguised

Here is an outstanding post by Jonathan Trotter to help us love, support and encourage those we know who live in a culture other than their own.

Outlawed Grief, a Curse Disguised

Ode to Walberg Ministries

In 1956 my father-in-law, Dr. C.T. Walberg (known to everyone as Kelly), began a week day radio ministry in the Los Angeles area.  He continued that ministry until shortly before his death in 1995.  During the last few years of his life I shared the 15 minute broadcast and after his death I continued alone for a few years.  Then his wife, Anina, took over the broadcast until 2002 when it became exclusively a literature ministry because of soaring radio costs. Anina continued sending out a monthly mailing to people scattered throughout the world until today.

Today, gathered around the 126 year old table that has served as the gathering place of family, friends and uncounted missionaries, Anina and her volunteer crew stuffed more than 200 envelopes for the last mailing from Walberg Ministries.   At 96 Anina reached the decision that she couldn’t do it each month, so it was time to close down.  My wife, Sharon, drove to the Post Office where one last time she handed over the plastic trays with their cardboard sleeves.

It was a sobering reminder that while Jesus promised to build his church he didn’t promise that any particular church or ministry would continue in perpetuity.  Churches and ministries have shelf lives.  Some are around for centuries, some for decades but eventually every church and ministry ceases to be.  Some cease because of scandal or mismanagement, some cease because no one comes any more, some cease simply because their particular role in proclaiming the gospel has been completed.

Kelly and Anina never set out to build an empire.  They set out to be faithful. They accomplished that.  Over the decades Walberg Ministry has taught, encouraged and challenged thousands of followers of Jesus. The ministry has been used by God to proclaim the gospel throughout the world as those who listened to the broadcasts or received the mailings shared with others what they had received.  Beginning today that ministry will be carried on by other ministries already in existence and by some that as yet do not exist. 

One thing we know for sure, even as we are saddened by the passing of Walberg Ministries, Jesus will build his church and even if he needs to use stones, God will not leave himself without a witness.

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu

It is 9 am in Chiang Mai (6 pm in California and the rest of you can figure out what time it is where you are.  Do I have to do all the work?)  We begin our trek home at 11:50 pm Thailand time if the plane departs on time.  We have an eight hour layover in Korea.  We leave Seoul at 3 PM ­on Friday, December 13 and through the wonder of the International Dateline we arrive in Los Angeles at 9 AM on Friday, December 13.  That’s right folks, we arrive in Los Angeles 6 hours BEFORE we leave Korea after a 6000 mile, 13 hour flight.

If we didn’t understand the International Dateline and time zones this would seem impossible.  With the right information we are still amazed but we more fully understand how this can be.  I sometimes think that some of the difficult passages in the Bible are like this.  (And there are difficult passages in the Bible.) We don’t have enough background information for it to make total sense.  I’m not talking about the miracles.  Miracles by their very definition are acts by God without submitting to the natural order.  They are not natural, they are super-natural.  They are above the natural. 

I’m talking about how God’s sovereignty intersects with our free choices.  I’m talking about the how of keeping in step with the Holy Spirit.  I’m talking about Rahab lying about the Israeli spies and being blessed.  I’m talking about the sons of God taking the daughters of man as wives.  I’m talking about how there is only one true God, yet He exists as three distinct persons.  Yet despite not having all the information I would like about these issues, I still believe they are true just as I believe that I can leave Seoul at 3 pm on Friday and arrive in Los Angeles at 9 am on Friday.

The Bible was not given to satisfy our curiosity, it was given as a record of what God is like and what He has done, is doing and will continue to do with humanity.  It is a record of our brokenness and His wholeness. It is a record of His offer of eternal life as a free gift through the sacrifice of His Son, Jesus. I don’t fully understand why He would provide salvation for us as fallen creatures, He didn’t do that with the angels.  But He has pursued us and He has taken on Himself our sin, died in our place and now offers us a full pardon and the gift of Jesus’ righteousness.  Compared to God’s great love and grace extended to all, arriving in Los Angles six hours before leaving Seoul is nothing.

Life in the Quotidian Lane

A friend of mine told me in a response to one of my recent blog posts that I should be sent outside the country more often so I would write more.  I take that as a compliment.

But I also thought about how easily we live in our own culture and take so much for granted.  We lose the awe of what life is and how interesting are the people around us. Even as followers of Jesus we begin to presume on grace and leave God outside our thinking unless there is a crisis or an unexpected blessing.

About 15 years ago Kathleen Norris gave a lecture that was then produced as a short book entitled, Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy and “Women's Work.”  (I had to look up the word quotidian.  It means “of or occurring every day; daily”) It is what I have often referred to as the daily-ness of life.  It is where we spend the vast majority of our time.  In this lecture, Norris points women (her audience but certainly it applies equally to men) to the divine mystery of life in the ordinary.  She contends that if we miss living in the daily-ness of life we miss most of the opportunities God gives us since daily is that of which our lives are primarily comprised.

One of the many things this trip has reminded me of is the variety of life and culture even in my own area. It is far too easy for me to simply put my head down and get through the day instead of savoring the people and places that are near to me.  I value family and I value friends and I value place.  Yet far too many days I blitz through a day with little thought to any of those people and places I value.

So my challenge, thanks to my friend Ken, is to live my life at home as if I were living abroad.  To open my eyes to the people and places that should elicit wonder from me instead of ennui.  To revel in quotidian mysteries.

Carol-er or Carol-ee

Last night the staff and volunteers of Youth for Christ Chiang Mai came by the house to carol for us.  After serving them hot cocoa and popcorn they all prayed for us.  Later in the evening I thought about that a lot.  I can’t remember being caroled to in all my years of ministry.  I remember caroling many times.  What I don’t remember is being the one to whom the carols are being sung.

Even this trip to Thailand is very different.  Every trip outside the U.S. has been for the primary purpose of ministry. This trip is a vacation.  I keep waiting for Kristi to put us to work on something ministry-related.  So far, nothing.  And we leave late Thursday night.

What I am coming to realize is how much of my life has been on the giving side.  That is a privilege I do not take lightly or for granted.  Nor do I mention it so others can be impressed.  But I also realize that often I have not put myself in the place of being on the receiving side. It is an occupational hazard for those of us who are pastor-types (as Wil Regier refers to us).  And it is a hazard that can quickly become unhealthy.

It is true I was usually in a Life Group led by someone else.  I seldom taught Sunday School, but instead I participated as one among.  I did intentionally make sure not everything was led by me.  But my life has been characterized by giving and so I have become more familiar with giving than receiving.  And both are necessary aspects of walking with Jesus.  The life of faith is both giving and receiving from God and from others.

I always swore I ministered as one among and I hope to God that has been the primary experience, but I did realize after the carolers left that I am much more comfortable being a carol-er than a carol-ee.

Sunday Night Football Live Monday Morning in Chiang Mai

It’s Monday morning in Chiang Mai so it’s time to watch Sunday Night Football live from my den in Huntington Beach using Kristi’s Slingbox (Thanks, Mark Wold, for the tip several years ago).  It is hard to imagine the days when missionaries packed all their belongings in a casket because they were never coming back home.  Being a missionary is still incredibly challenging, stressful and draining. 

It doesn’t surprise me that so many who begin as missionaries do not continue for the long haul.  Not all of that is bad since sometimes God calls people into ministries for a season.  We all have a lifetime call to be witnesses.  As we are going we are to make disciples our whole life through. 

But not everyone should commit to a long season in another location where the language, culture and environment is so different from their own.  Surviving those changes takes both spiritual and emotional maturity that is not always present in every believer.  It takes a level of flexibility, patience and personal emotional health that is not necessarily a part of every believer’s life.

That may sound like heresy, but where stands it written that all believers should cross all those barriers to bring the gospel. What is clear from scripture is that all believers should bring the gospel to the place where they are, whether at home or abroad. 

Having said this, I also believe that more followers of Jesus should consider leaving their own culture to take the good news to another culture than actually do.  I remember in church hearing that there are go-ers and send-ers.  While this may be the two broad categories, (This sometimes ignores the fact that we are all go-ers according to the Great Commission it’s just that some go further than others.  Some go across the street, some go across the world.) what is too often assumed is that the go-ers are all extroverted preachers.  Missions needs IT people, baristas, preachers, bookkeepers, children’s workers, administrators…  It is generally true that whatever you are doing in your own context has its equivalent in the context of missions outside your own culture.

And while you’re considering missions in another culture, see if you can hook up with someone with a Slingbox.  The new season of Downton Abbey begins January 5 and the Super Bowl is February 2.

Here Comes the Boom

[My wife Sharon wrote about this Thai experience on her CaringBridge blog and I commend her writing to you.  http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/sharonschliep/journal]

The first few mornings in Thailand we were awakened by what sounded like cannon fire. This is done to acknowledge that a person has died during the night.  Sometimes there were six or seven “shots” during a morning.

I am sure that in a city the size of Huntington Beach the death rate is at least the same as this community of Doi Saket, but we do nothing to publicly announce someone’s passing.  Even the newspaper which used to carry the obituary of almost everyone who died now only highlight a few that may be of interest to the reader.

We send out birth announcements, graduation announcements and wedding announcements.  We do not, typically, send out death announcements.  In fact it seems we want to pretend that no one dies.  Which leaves those closest to the deceased feeling alone and lonely.

It was not so long ago that the majority of deaths occurred at home.  At the end of World War II, only 40% of deaths occurred in hospitals.  The recent numbers indicate that 60% of Americans die in acute care hospitals and 20% in nursing homes and only 20% at home.  The number of those dying in America outside the home (and their family) has basically doubled.  Yet recent surveys indicate that 80% of Americans would prefer to die at home.

In his book, “The Christian Art of Dying,” Allen Verhey writes, “Death was not a solitary event.  Like life, it happened in community.  And death happened not only in community but also to the community.  It was a communal loss, and both grief and comfort were communal tasks.  Together they held tight to their humanity in the face of the sad truths of suffering and death.”

We can’t always influence the when or how of someone’s dying but we can do something about celebrating their life and grieving their death.  We can make sure that their passing is noted.  We can make sure that their death will not be like Scrooge’s in which the only people who note his passing are those who have something to gain from his proceeds.  Whether it is a memorial service, a funeral, a celebration or a cannon boom, we can note their life by acknowledging their death.

Living Small

Yesterday each of the other two bathrooms was being used for showers. I could have waited, but I thought I could speed up the process if I showered in the downstairs bathroom. So I took my towel and traipsed down the stairs and into the bathroom. As I walked in I noticed immediately that this shower was unlike any I had seen. Along one wall was a tiled trough about three feet deep and four feet long, but only about eighteen inches wide. Along the edge was a plastic scoop. Attached to the wall within the trough area was a flex hose with shower head and small electric water heater. (One of the things that always amazes me in Asia is the proximity of electricity to water in the showers.) I flipped the water heater on and ran some water. The water went out the drain and onto the bathroom floor where it drained slowly into the floor.

It was at this point that the eighteen inch width became more of an issue. I contemplated going back upstairs to wait for a shower to open up but I thought, "Hey, I'm on an adventure in Thailand and I just wrote a blog about things that are different not wrong. Don't wimp out. Go for it." So I climbed over the wall and began my shower.

Even with turning the water off while soaping down and shampooing the water covered the bathroom floor. (I was so glad I had hung my clothes on the back of the door because I hadn't noticed the floor filling up until I was almost finished.)

I finished the shower, waded over to the door to retrieve my clothes after drying off, and began to dress when a niggling idea began in my head. "Since the floor fills up anyway, and the floor is tile I wonder if people shower outside the trough, in the bathroom. It sure would be easier.  Less confining. And it would have the same result."

I talked with Kristi later and after she stopped laughing she confirmed that with only a few exceptions, people shower in the wide open bathroom, not the narrow trough.  The trough is for a scoop shower in which the person plugs the drain in the trough, fills the trough with some water and simply ladles the water onto themselves for the shower.

I also couldn't help thinking about all the times we live small. We confine ourselves to a very small space when God's grace has provided a wideness in how to live in relationship with Him. Oh, there are some restrictions God has revealed that are for our good. But think about it. So much of the life of a Christian is not prescribed. There was nothing wrong with using the trough for the shower. Neither would there have been with using the entire bathroom. It was a matter of preference. Or in my case ignorance. But that's much of the way of following Jesus. Scripture doesn't tell us where to live, what to drive, what to wear. It describes broader issues like stewardship, wisdom and generosity. All too often, I fear, we have allowed our own sub-culture to define how we live resulting in a narrow life rather than looking to Jesus and living in the fullness of that relationship. We may still choose the trough, but we can choose it from freedom not ignorance or fear.  And that would make all the difference in the world.

Syncretism Begins at Home

Driving down one of the major thoroughfares in Chiang Mai yesterday I saw a spirit house.  For those of you who have traveled in Asia you know that seeing a spirit house is not unusual.  What made this one catch my eye is that it was strung with Christmas lights.

For a split second I wondered how a practicing spiritist could bring themselves to add Christmas lights to their spirit house, but upon further reflection I thought it would be quite easy.  It may be that the person thought that lights would make the house more beautiful or noticeable and was not aware of the significance of Christmas and how these lights are used as part of the Christmas celebration in many countries.  The person may know the significance of the lights, but doesn't see a disconnect between spiritism and Christmas.  Or the Christmas lights might have been on sale and lights are lights regardless of how others use them.

Then I remembered an incident with my almost four-year-old granddaughter a few weeks ago.  I had received a book from Amazon and pulled the tab to open the box producing a long strip of cardboard.  My granddaughter who loves all things Disney picked up the cardboard, now re-imagined as a magic wand, and waved it at me proclaiming that she was turning me into Jesus.  (Ah, that becoming like Jesus were that easy.)  My response was not to scold her for holding syncretistic views in her theology.  It was to simply point out that Jesus was alive and I was not him. We will work on the rest of the pieces over time.

But it strikes me how easily we add layers onto what God has said about Himself and His creation.  Sometimes we do this consciously, but quite often unconsciously.  Someone once said that God created mankind in His own image and mankind has been returning the favor ever since.  We want to create God in our image because we do not always like what we know to be true of Him or we are unaware of what He tells us about Himself.  Sometimes this adding to what God has said about Himself is deliberate and nefarious, but often it comes from a lack of understanding.  Understanding takes time and age-and-experience appropriate teaching of God's self-revelation recorded in the Bible.

It is true that God can never be known fully.  He is, after all, God.  But what God has revealed about Himself can be known, understood and acted upon.  But as the apostle Paul said to the Christians at Corinth, "we know in part" and just a few sentences later he admits, "now we see in a mirror dimly."  Paul goes on to say we will understand more fully later on, but for now we walk in the light of what we understand.
As we do that, syncretism will lessen and the view we have of God will more closely resemble the way He is truly. That is why Jesus told us to make disciples.  That is why we never stop discipling.  It is a lifelong process of continuing to adjust our understanding of who God is and who we are based on what God has said.

Tourist or Resident?

My daughter Kristi is my hero.  There are two seasons in her life that have influenced my own view of walking with Christ.  One was her five years in Germany, the second is her current two years in Thailand.

Let me explain. Sharon and I are currently in Thailand as tourists.  We have been to the zoo, the night market, and the Royal Park.  But we went as tourists.  We don't know the language (although I can butcher Hello and Thank you in Thai).  We don't know the customs we may be breaking.  And while we try to be culturally sensitive and learn a few things from the culture, I am not committed to finding ways to bridge my world and theirs.  I am here for two weeks.  Then I'm gone.  My investment is enough to navigate the experiences and not offend.

Kristi, on the other hand, is a resident.  She is committed to being a good resident.  Therefore she is learning the language and the lay of the land and the cultural cues she needs to do more than simply not offend, but to actually communicate her real appreciation for all those things in Thai culture that are different, not wrong.  (See my earlier post.)  As a result Kristi has joined us in all the things I listed above, but she did them as a resident.  She did them with a closer connection to the people and the culture because she has more than just a vague "I love mankind" approach.  The people around her are "these people in this place at this time."  Whatever it is she can do or participate in that reflects God's character, she's up for it.

Kristi's life reminds me of Peter's designation of Christians.  Quoting Moses' description of God's people Israel, Peter refers to the Christians scattered throughout Asia Minor as "sojourners and exiles."  The words picture a resident alien.  Whether we live in the town we were born in or have settled into a place thousands of miles away, ultimately this is not our home.  Our citizenship is elsewhere.  But like Jeremiah's advice to Israel in exile, we are to live life where we currently are in a way that benefits those who live around us, regardless of their own religious persuasion or lack thereof.  Our focus is not on what brings us joy or things that benefit only us.  Our focus is on what brings good to those among whom we live.  The greatest good, of course, being the good news of God reconciling people to Himself through the sacrifice of His son, Jesus.

Being a resident alien is a real challenge.  We don't always understand the cultural cues and at times we do not invest ourselves in the people who are so near to us. It takes too much concentration and awareness.  We act more like tourists.  We only want to connect with the dominant culture in ways that benefit us or bring us pleasure.  We don't take the time to learn the language, the customs or the values of those among whom we live.  Maybe it's time to live more like resident aliens and less like tourists.

Different, not wrong

As we drive along on the left side of the road here in Thailand I have to remind myself it is different, not wrong.  When I see the ducks hanging in the shop windows I have to remind myself it is different, not wrong.  When they measure things in liters and kilometers I have to remind myself it is different, not wrong.

There are many things in life that are different, not wrong.  As followers of Jesus, let's make sure when we're disturbed by choices or behaviors in ourselves and others that we're disturbed because it is wrong, not different.  How easily we equate our cultural preferences for moral standards.  Let's make sure that our values are informed by scripture, not culture.  Cultures are full of differences that are not issues of morality, of right and wrong.  They are simply issues of preference.  Let the foundation of our lives be "where stands it written?"

There are things that are truly right and wrong based on the character of God and His design for humans, created in His image.  But there are also myriads of things that are simply different, not wrong.  Let's make sure we work at discerning the difference.

Water to a Parched Soul

Sunday.  First full day in Chiang Mai.  We worshiped at an ex-patriot church and visited the night bazaar.  But one of the highlights for me came while riding in the back of the truck while Sharon and Kristi rode up front.  I sat in the back and noticed that almost no signs were in any language but Thai.  That, of course, makes perfect sense since I am in Thailand.  But I found myself disoriented.  Oh, I recognized service stations and 7-11's (which are on almost every corner), but the vast majority of shops were not as obvious as to their services or products.  I found myself feeling like an outsider.  I didn't have a decoder ring that would help me orient myself to where I was and what was around me.  So when I did see a sign that had English subtitles I emotionally grabbed onto it as an anchor.  I felt as though in some small way I got my bearings, if only briefly.

The other thing I noticed is how tiring it is to try to keep deciphering.  (Although jet lag may also play a part in how I felt yesterday.)  I was mentally and emotionally exhausted by the end of a full day.  When I saw English or heard English spoken by those at church, I was re-oriented and refreshed.  It was like taking a drink of water when I'm parched.

It was this feeling that gave me a renewed appreciation for the immigrants  who come to the United States with no working knowledge of the English language.  It reminded me how difficult it is to learn another language and, in this case, another alphabet.  When I have traveled to Germany, at least the script is the same and the language has Latin roots so I could discern the pharmacy and such. (Pharmacy in German is Apotheke which sounds like apothecary.)  Here there is nothing in the letters to bridge from what I do know to what I do not know.  This happens to those who choose to come to the United States.  They wrestle to make sense of what they see and what they hear.  They are exhausted by the end of each day in navigating life in a different culture, but also with few verbal cues to help them understand where they are.

It also put back into perspective the short-sighted comments of those native-born Americans who wonder aloud why the immigrant can't "just learn to speak English" and why do these immigrants not just "become like us" and why do these immigrants "huddle together" in certain areas of the city?

I understand, at least at some level, why they gather with people who speak their language and eat their food.  I understand, at least at some level, why they live in areas where the signs are in their language and the food options are familiar to them.  As I mentioned earlier, getting out of my own culture and into another's I have a renewed appreciation for those who are willing to leave their own dominant culture. Whether it's people coming to the US or missionaries leaving their own country, culture and language to plant themselves in another country, culture and language to bring the good news of Jesus to those who have not yet heard.  It's hard work, but it's worth it.

2012--A Kinder, Gentler Year

Recently I’ve been going through my desk drawers as I’ve moved my office from a “real” office space into one half of our garage.  As I sorted through the various birthday and father’s day cards from my children and my wife I tossed most of them due to space limitations after weeping openly from the words they wrote.  I always long to be the husband and father they think I am.

One of the cards I kept is from January 2012.  My birthday is January 1 (yes, the world waits through the night to celebrate my birthday in a loud and colorful fashion) and is a two-fer when it comes to looking back and looking forward.  It is my birthday and it is the beginning of a new year.  A quasi-blank calendar awaits me.  In this particular card Sharon wrote, “I pray that 2012 will be a kinder, gentler year, and we’ll find ourselves welcoming whatever joys, challenges or changes God brings us.”

Within a few weeks Sharon had been diagnosed with breast cancer and the next 18 months were highlighted by surgery, chemotherapy, radiation and infusions of antibodies.  Not exactly what Sharon envisioned as she wrote the card.  Yet, ironically, these experiences did in fact bring joy, challenge and change. 

Through all the ups and downs, physically and emotionally, there was a deep, abiding, underlying experience of joy.  Not joy in the cancer or the treatment or the potential outcome, but joy in knowing that God had not stepped off His throne while this was going on.  We experienced His presence throughout this season of life.  There was a quiet joy in reading together, walking together and just sitting quietly together.

The challenges were many.  From falling hair to rising expenses.  From fixing meals to fixing our eyes on Jesus.  From planning a year ahead to appreciating today.

The changes were dramatic.  Walking half marathons together became walking the halls of Kaiser together.  Reading labels on food and products became mandatory rather than optional.  The ability to plan ahead with a significant expectation that those plans would actually happen became experiencing the truth of James’ admonishment to live in the realm of “Lord willing.”

Sharon’s card, sincere and loving, is a reminder that what we often think our lives will look like doesn’t always match the lives that God has in mind for good and for His glory.  And through these seasons we’re learning to “welcome whatever joys, challenges or changes God brings us.”

Investing or Spending?

I have had some thoughts rolling around in my head over the past few weeks.  (I know that will surprise many of you who think I never have a thought in my head.)  These thoughts even leaked out during my sermon in Santa Margarita last weekend.  They have to do with the term we use when describing our relationship with others, especially as it relates to the ministry of disciple-making.

How often have you or I or some other Christian referred to how we are “investing” in another person?  By that we mean we are meeting with them on quite a regular basis to both teach and to learn.  It could be one-on-one or in small gatherings, but we are investing in followers of Jesus.  The question at the end of some sermons is, “Who are you investing in?”

But it struck me the other day that subtly this view of these relationships can skew the relationship because of what we expect from an investment.  What we expect is ROI.  Return on investment.  In our culture one only invests if one thinks there is a good possibility that one will receive back more than one invests.  That, in our culture, is a good investment.  It began to dawn on me that more times than I would care to admit, I was looking for an ROI even if I was not the beneficiary of the return.  In other words, as long as the person went on to be an “above average Christian” I could feel good about my investment of time and energy in their walk with Jesus.

But maybe what God actually calls us to is spending ourselves for others.  When you spend something like money or time, you only get to spend it once.  Spending may or may not bring you some return.  “I spent the day at Disneyland.”  It may or may not have given you the pleasure you had hoped for but certainly you didn’t say, “I invested a day at Disneyland.”  The experience itself was enough of a payoff for you to spend the money and time.  You didn’t need to receive back more than you spent.  “I spent the morning with my wife.”  Maybe you hope that there will be some return on the time spent, but being together for that time is enough for you to spend the time.

What if we began “spending” our time with others instead of always trying to discern if we should invest our time in others?  What if the time spent was, by itself, enough?

Now I’ve infected your head with these thoughts and you can figure it out.  Let me know what you decide. Think of it as investing in my life.

Except for the Cancer

I blurted out one of those classic ironies the last time I was with Sharon at her infusion.  (I missed last Friday, but it was the first time I had missed any of them and, Lord willing, the last.  Big thanks to Irene and Sue for helping out.)  We climbed the four flights of stairs as we normally do and Sharon had settled into the recliner.  The nurse took her blood pressure and commented on how great the numbers were.  At that moment I turned to Sharon and said, "Except for the cancer, you're in really good shape."

For those of you who have walked through seasons like this you understand.  Life takes on a surreal quality that is almost indescribable.  Your options are laugh or cry.  We've done both.

September 11 and 666

When the Kaiser scheduled my second cataract surgery for September 11 there was a moment of pause.  September 11 will never be simply another date in September. The date will always conjure images of destruction.  It is not a date that elicits positive emotions or feelings of well-being.  But I let that all go and have been looking forward to seeing as well with the second eye as I do with the first.

Since Sharon and I were at the Irvine facility today for her 5th Taxol infusion, I went downstairs to pick up the three prescriptions of eye drops that I will have to use before and after the surgery.  I was politely told that it would be a while before the prescription would be ready.  I assured the pharmacist that I had several hours to wait so I would simply drop back later to pick up the prescriptions.  She handed me the call number that would help the clerk find my prescription when I returned.  There, in very large numerals, was the number 666.  There was a moment of pause.

Isn't it amazing that dates and numbers can carry such import?  My own response illustrates the power of words and symbols.  We are kidding ourselves if we think words do not matter or that symbols are meaningless.  It has been a reminder that “When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent.” (Proverbs 10:19-ESV) balanced by the passage from Acts, “And Judas and Silas, who were themselves prophets, encouraged and strengthened the brothers with many words.” (Acts 15:32-ESV).  In each passage there are many words, but in the first it results in much sin while in the second it results in much encouragement.  We should never take lightly the power of our words.