Know-Love-Obey God

(High Calling Blogs Book Club:
Loving Monday, by John Beckett)
See Laura’s post here.

Half a year ago summer sounds bounced unsubdued through this campground. Tent vinyl yawned open, stretching its muscles cramped from a year in storage. A rolling van door rumbled open to release three siblings and their dog. Fathers and sons told of their morning at the stream out of which they pulled six brown trout, now sizzling in buttered foil touched under by campfire flames. In the morning a picnic table displayed a hissing green Coleman stove, making everyone hungry for breakfast.

Now, these same firepits and picnic tables lay muted under the snow.

No one is here, and that is why we came. We marry our cross-country skis to their bindings and ski these campground loops, expecting the God-given blessing of uncrowded comraderie in His winter creation. Only our family is here, and we love the solitude. No one else sees.

In this private, precious time I consider that my life cannot always be so, nor should it be. I remind myself that though I should live to please God alone, my life is on display. Even when no one else sees, I should live as if the whole world does. I want my life to be like a private conversation with God that everyone else gets to listen in on.

In John Beckett’s Loving Monday we read in Chapter 1 of “Peter Jennings’s Magnifying Glass.” ABC News comes to put the Beckett Corporation on public display in a news feature.

There was no turning back. We were committed to walk out this risky but exciting endeavor—exposing our company, our beliefs and our reputation to ABC’s magnifying glass. In spite of my apprehensions, I sensed we were doing the right thing.

- John Beckett, Loving Mondays, page 21.

What if a news crew stepped into my front door to shine lights, point microphones and press “record” on my daily life? What if, taking notes and shadowing us for three days, they interviewed my husband and children on their opinion of me and how I manage the household?

The result could either glorify God—or not. As exposing lights shine on me, what light do I shine?

“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”
(Matthew 5:14-16)

“If you can’t make it, fake it,” I’ve heard, but I want authenticity—to live such that my private life and my public life are consistent. Not that I should start yelling at my kids in public and letting loose all the ugliness, but that I should make adjustments to my private life so that, if my daily habits and character were publicly exposed, it would glorify God.

I have plenty of improvements to make, whether or not anyone can see. (God always does.) Yet all the while, I will still enjoy the solitude at the rim of a snowy canyon.

“I hope that we’re going to do more in heaven than just sit on a cloud and play a harp—forever and ever!”

I have heard people say things like that, but if that is “all” I’m doing on that side of eternity, then heaven will be, well, HEAVEN to me!

Making music to the Lord is a little of heaven on earth. Nearly every Sunday I would spend the first twenty to thirty minutes of the worship service behind an instrument or holding a microphone. Often I would stand surrounded by the rest of our thirty-voice choir or in an ensemble, yet it felt like no one else was there but my God and me. It was incredible worship of our awesome God.

Members of the Body frequently encourage those in music ministry. We often receive expressions of thanks and appreciation for the worship music. “That song was exactly what I needed to hear.” “It was such a worshipful service. Thanks for what you do up there, week by week!” “That was beautiful!” The musicians thank God, for His name was exalted.

Music ministry is high-visibility. People know who you are. They greet you in the halls and in the parking lot. Because of being in music ministry, I got to know many faces; I engaged in several edifying chats and conversations.

Many find music ministry desirable. Our church is blessed with a high percentage of ridiculously talented singers and instrumentalists. The worship team roster is sixty-four names long. People sign up or audition for music ministry without being asked. This is a blessing.

Not long ago I made new choices and rearranged priorities. I still appear on the worship team schedule now and then, but not nearly as often as before. Now, every Sunday I am in the 5th grade Sunday School room co-teaching with my husband.

Teaching is an even greater passion for me than music ministry. Yet I have noticed some key differences between teaching, say, a Tuesday morning women’s Bible study and a children’s Sunday school class. The women go out of their way and go to great lengths to be there—finding child care, using their lunch hour, whatever it takes. They want to be there.

In many—perhaps most—cases, a child in Sunday school is there because he has to be.

To the teacher, this makes a big difference.

Children’s ministry is low-visibility. Because the teachers are in their rooms early and stay late waiting for parent pick-ups, not many people know who they are. Sometimes the hallway conversations and doughnut-time fellowship is difficult after the energy output required for classroom control and engaging uninterested students in the Word.

Few find children’s ministry desirable. Every year much recruiting is required for grades 1-6, and combining grades is often the solution for a teacher shortage. The children’s Sunday school teacher roster is not that long.

Children’s Sunday school teachers rarely hear from the Body regarding their ministry. Perhaps it is partially because these children’s ministers are generally low-visibility—off the radar.

I am overwhelmingly thankful for supportive parents and an extremely supportive Children’s Director. A little bit—even a few encouraging words—goes a long way. If you are already doing this, keep at it! Great!

If this sounds like a plea for children’s Sunday school teachers . . . it is. The next time you’re in church, try to find, say, the 2nd grade teacher. Initiate conversation and fellowship. Ask, “How is your family? How’s your ministry coming along? May I pray for you?” Chances are, you’ll be blessed, too.

(I would enjoy interacting with anyone over this. However, because of computer issues I may not be able to reply to comments for about a week.)

The sun already left me
for today, departing behind the hill.
Uncertain hour of dusk
colors the coming night.
It will be long before the morning.
It will be long.
But the moon in its fullness tonight
reminds me that God has
His timing, His fullnesses of time
come when they come. The moon reminds me
of His face shining on me.
“Smile, child. Take joy in Me.
Your seasons of thin crescents
barely lit
will turn to a time
of brightness, of fullness
of joy.”
And in this phase
I wait,
smiling.

Think of your favorite novels. How do they begin?

Jacob Marley was dead, to begin with.
(Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol)

“Where’s Papa going with that ax?” said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.
(E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web)

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.
(J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit)

A story always begins before page one. We can tell even from the opening line that there was more to the story—that we have entered the story somewhere in the middle, like catching a conversation midstream.

Dialogue. It is another way to slice the apple a different way. I’m on the lookout for conversations as I read the Bible. I think the dialogue and conversations in His Word are a kind of invitation to eavesdrop. God wants me to eavesdrop! Then I try to piece together the background story behind the conversation.

I tried this with Nehemiah and the king and learned things I had never seen before. It was great, sneaky fun.

Now I am a habitual eavesdropper. The next time I open His Word and hear people talking, I’ll tiptoe to the hallway, put my ear to the door, and hear . . .

On wintertime Saturdays (and sometimes fall and spring if there was enough snow), we go cross-country skiing. When our first son Derek got cross-country skis for his third birthday, we had him practice “skiing” on our living room carpet. Then he skied in the backyard.

One Saturday we decided he was ready for the real thing. We loaded our thirty-year-old hand-me-down ski rack and drove an hour to a trail at The Crags.

Titus (who, eight months before, was living off an umbilical cord) was too young to ski, so he rode behind me in the Kelty backpack carrier. Bundled up, skis on and on the snow, hot-water Thermos and cocoa mix waiting for our return, we were ready.

Derek did not move at first. For once, instead of speaking my impatience (thankGod), I waited with my poles unmoving. I waited and left it to Daddy. He would know what to do.

Charles bent down and wrote a big 1 on the snow. Derek said, “One!” and skied forward to be with the 1.

“Good!” said Charles. He bent down and wrote a big 2 in the snow. Derek said, “Two!” and skied forward to be with the 2. They got all the way to a big 26! After the 26, our whole family skied together in the woods of The Crags.

Back at the car, we took off our skis. Titus was out of the carrier. We bundled inside the car, drank hot cocoa with a marshmallow on top, and ate crackers and gorp.

Now when the builders had laid the foundation of the temple of the LORD, the priests stood in their apparel with trumpets, and the Levites, the sons of Asaph, with cymbals, to praise the LORD according to the directions of King David of Israel. They sang, praising and giving thanks to the LORD, saying, “For He is good, for His lovingkindness is upon Israel forever.” And all the people shouted with a great shout when they praised the LORD because the foundation of the house of the LORD was laid.

- Ezra 3:10-11

What a big deal! All that singing with trumpets, cymbals, and special celebrations clothes! It was indeed a day to remember, a mark-it-on-the-calendar momentous occasion. It was finished!

Now when the builders had laid the foundation of the temple . . .

They were not celebrating the completion of the temple but only the foundation. I love that! They didn’t put off the big party until the entire project was finished; they celebrated the foundation-laying—a milestone.

Celebrating milestones is like writing numbers in the snow. Milestones motivate us to move to the next step, for many processes are lo-o-o-ong. As a family we want to memorize an entire Psalm, yet we rejoice when we nail half a verse. Reaching summer break is fabulous, but we mark every one-fourth year with an end-of-quarter breakfast. We would like our toy company to be up and running, employing others, but how wonderful to debug one part of one program.

Why wait until the end of a project? Instead, I will make step-by-step celebrations. Then at the end, we will drink hot cocoa with a marshmallow on top.

(A High Calling Blogs Random Act of Poetry, for the prompt to write a poem about a character in a book. I chose Fay McKelva, the Judge’s wife in The Optimist’s Daughter, by Eudora Welty.)

She never
did realize
because
her selfishness
did not die,
someone did.
It reminds me,
when I die
to self
Someone Else
lives
in me.

The week before a big exam I crammed in whatever facts, equations, names, and dates I needed. Come test time, I pulled from those bursting memory banks and performed, pencil flying ahead of the clock. Test score: aced it.

The following week I cut the twine temporarily tying down my mental cardboard box of facts, and all of them spilled out.

Forgotten.

What else have I forgotten? What gifts passed from God’s hand to mine that I did not bother to remember? I remember—and remember long-term—for a reason.

And you shall remember all the way which the Lord your God has led you in the wilderness these forty years, that He might humble you . . .

- Deuteronomy 8:2

In these words is a secret, a way to humility. This secret is remembering the Lord’s works, and I do. I let His goodnesses pass before me. I remember the wildernesses of 2004, of 2005, of freshman year in college, of fifth grade. I remember and am humbled.

Then your heart becomes proud, and you forget the Lord your God who brought you out from the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.

- Deuteronomy 8:14

Forgetting leads to pride leads to forgetting leads to . . .

To protect myself from pride, I make it a habit to remember the Lord and His works. And so, I will keep counting.

Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God.
May your gracious Spirit lead me forward
on a firm footing.

- Psalm 143:10

I make this my prayer.

Father, teach me
not only Your will
but to obey it.
I will not be capable
of obedience unless You
teach me. Let me learn
from You how to follow You.
Lead me, and as You lead,
teach me the forward
steps I need to take.
Let me walk forward only
where Your gracious Spirit leads,
for only if I walk in Your will,
will my footing be firm.

And He said, “I myself will make all My goodness pass before you . . .”

- Exodus 33:19

Close your eyes and remember all
the Lord’s goodnesses to you.
Let each one pass before you
like frames in a slow slide show.
See and remember each one,
and thank Him.

“How’s everything back home?” Nehemiah asks his brother, Hanani.

The news is terrible and heart-breaking. The walls have burned down. After his initial gut reaction, Nehemiah the Cupbearer straightens his tie and knocks at the big boss’s office door. He approaches King Artaxerxes.

“If it pleases the king, and if your servant has found favor in your sight . . .”

- Nehemiah 2:5

This short phrase is Nehemiah’s prelude to the (rather bold) request for the king’s help. He comes asking the king to sign a Purchase Requisition for all the timber he needs. He asks for protection and a passport to travel unmolested through the lands of others. I’d call this gutsy.

Could Nehemiah have said this if he had not been a good cupbearer or if he did not have good standing with the king?

“If it pleases the king, and if your servant has found favor in your sight . . .” Perhaps we could rephrase Nehemiah’s words like this:

“If you like the idea, and if you like me . . .”

or, “If it’s okay with you, and if I have served you well . . .”

Imagine an employee who regularly stretched his one-hour lunch break into two, played computer games on company time, came in an hour late every day, and lied on his time card. What if this person approached his boss and said, “If I have been a good worker, do me a favor and . . .” (fill in the blank with some outrageous request). Would it fly?

From just a bit of this dialogue, we may conclude that Nehemiah had a history of good service and character—like integrity, faithfulness, excellence in his work—and this is part of why he could ask so boldly for the king’s help. Nehemiah did not receive the king’s favor because it was some kind of magical or lucky moment.

What contributed to Nehemiah’s success? His long-standing faithfulness and good work. The saying is true: your reputation precedes you.

[D]on’t just do the minimum that will get you by. Do your best. Work from the heart for your real Master, for God, confident that you’ll get paid in full when you come into your inheritance. Keep in mind always that the ultimate Master you’re serving is Christ. The sullen servant who does shoddy work will be held responsible. Being a follower of Jesus doesn’t cover up bad work.

- Colossians 3:22-25 (MSG)

Sometimes, as we do the tasks of today, the long-term benefit of working for the Lord is not immediately obvious. Yet we see over and over that obedience results in blessing (and sometimes the blessing sneaks up on you!). Working for the Lord results not only in His glory but also our benefit.

Have you ever seen this happen, whether you were in the position of a Nehemiah or a King Artaxerxes?