While doing my daily Bible reading last week, I perused 1 Kings chapter 1, where we have the account of David's failing health, and the beginning of Solomon's rule. But before Solomon began to rule, his brother Adonijah attempted a coup, and set himself up as king. His "rule" didn't last long - once Bathsheba and Nathan got wind of what was going on, they informed King David, and he quickly took care of the matter. Adonijah initially received mercy from Solomon by submitting to him, but that reprieve was short-lived. In Chapter 2, Adonijah requested to be given Abishag as a wife. Solomon viewed this as a conspiratorial move, and he had Adonijah executed.
As I read this inspired historical narrative, 1 Kings 1:6 jumped off the page at me, where the writer inserted a parenthetical statement about Adonijah that reads: "His father had never interfered with him by asking, 'Why do you behave as you do?'" Other versions say his father never "rebuked" or "displeased" him. The inspired word basically tells us that throughout Adonijah's life, David never took an opportunity to correct, discipline, or train him when he saw something amiss. I think David must have initially had good intentions of raising Adonijah according to the will of God, as evidenced by the name he gave to him - Adonijah literally means, "Yahweh is my Master." But at some point, David became lax in his instruction, and according to this verse under consideration, it must have been early in his son's life, since it states David "never" interfered...
Throughout the Bible, we are reminded of how important it is for parents to teach their children to serve and honor God. As Moses was giving final instructions to the Israelites as they prepared to cross into the Promised Land, he tells them in Deuteronomy 6 to remember the words he had given them and to "teach them diligently to your children ... when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up." Somewhere along the way, David failed in that. Not only David, but before him, a whole generation of Israelites. By the time we get to Judges 2, we read, "And there arose a generation after them who did not know the Lord or the work that He had done for Israel." Why? Because parents failed to teach their children. The remainder of the Old Testament shows us what happened to God's people as a result. And it was tragic.
We have a similar instruction given to us in the New Testament. Paul wrote to the Ephesians that fathers are to bring up their children in the training and admonition of the Lord. So how are we doing as God's people in this generation in fulfilling our responsibilities before God as parents? Are we raising a "generation that does not know the Lord?"
As I look around today, I see many Christian parents who are working hard, day in and day out, to teach their children about God. They prayerfully and diligently strive to impart a love for God, and a knowledge of His word in the hearts of their little ones. Their primary focus in life is to make sure they equip their children to serve God. They fulfill the command that Moses gave the Israelites so long ago, as they use every opportunity throughout each day to incorporate teaching about God and His word into the fabric of their children's lives. When faced with tough choices over the things of the world or spiritual things, they strive to keep their priorities according to God's will, and they always put the spiritual first. What an encouraging thing to see!
However, I also see some parents who are not doing this. In the younger Bible classes, their children come to class without any preparation. Those same children sometimes appear bored in class, and seem more interested in discussing the latest video game than in learning about the crucified Christ. They are given every material advantage in life, and their parents make sure they attend most of the Bible classes each week, but the emphasis in their homes is obviously on the material. These are the children who often miss Bible class or the worship assembly because they have something more "important" to do, such as play baseball, attend a concert, or go to a sleepover. And while parents might tell their children that God comes first, actions always speak louder than words. I've seen it firsthand, and it scares me. These children grow to their teenage years, and enter a high school Bible class unable to do simple tasks such as look up an Old Testament passage without using their index. And while that may seem to some to be a minor thing, it speaks to the place God and His word have had in their lives and in their homes. I dare say that these same young folks who cannot look up a passage of Scripture, much less quote one, are able to quote lyrics to their favorite popular songs, list the most recent baseball stats, or tell you details of their favorite celebrity's life without hesitation. Parents, what are we doing? What are we thinking? What are we allowing Satan to do in our homes?
Last week, we went to a visitation at the funeral home for a 20 year old young man who died on Mother's Day of a drug overdose. When we first hear things like that, we immediately tend to think the worst - he had a bad home life, perhaps his father was not there, or he had no parental guidance. None of those things were true of this young man. We had known him and his family since he was 5 years old. He had two loving parents, who were involved in his life. They participated in Boy Scouts, soccer, basketball, and band. When this boy first got in with the "wrong crowd" in high school, his parents did everything they could to get help for him. He seemed to be doing better, but on the Saturday night prior to Mother's Day, he was faced with a situation to use drugs again, and he made the wrong choice. It cost him his life. The saddest thing to me about the entire situation was that when we went into the funeral home that evening, rock music was playing. His mother told me that they were having a simple graveside service the next day, and they had asked a former high school teacher of their son's to say a few words, because they "didn't really know a preacher." He and his parents had visited in one of our worship assemblies on a Sunday evening several years ago, but spiritual things were just not important to them. With all of the love this young man had received in his life, and the involvement of two very committed parents, the ingredient that was missing in his life was God. How tragic.
Yes, there will be children who grow up in homes where God is honored, and where He is always put first in everything, who will choose to serve self, and will rebel against God. And there will be a few people who grow up in homes where God is not honored, who will become humble, dedicated Christians as adults. But those are the exceptions.
What do you want for your children? Do you want them to have every advantage in this life, or do you want them to spend eternity in heaven with God? Sometimes the choices will be tough. And sometimes we will make mistakes. But may it never be said of you or me as a parent what is recorded of David in 1 Kings 1:6. Let's strive with every fiber of our being to raise a generation who serves the Lord with fervor. Let's learn from the mistakes of the Israelites, and of David, so that it will not be said of our children that they are a generation "who knows not God."
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Sunday, May 5, 2013
"I am first and foremost me, but right after that, I am a mother. The best thing that I can ever be, is me. But the best gift that I will ever have, is being a mother.” ~C. JoyBell C.
This weekend Jeff and I will travel to College Station to attend graduation at Texas A&M University, as we watch our girls cross the stage to receive Bachelor of Science degrees - Sarah in Bilingual Elementary Education, and Becca in Community Health Education. I'm trying to figure out where the past four years have gone . . . or where the past twenty-two years have gone, for that matter!
We embarked on this new college journey nearly four years ago, and I still vividly remember how I felt as Jeff, Caleb and I descended the stairs at the girls' new apartment that hot August afternoon in 2009, got into our car, and headed back home without them - empty. I kept telling myself they were ready, that this was the way it is supposed to be, and that it was good that they had each other. But I still couldn't help but feel a certain sadness. I knew this would begin a new chapter in our lives, and that the last chapter entitled, "Our Girls' Life Under Our Roof" was forever ended. And just like the yet un-turned pages in any book, this new chapter of "Mother of College Students" was full of unknowns. I heard comments from well-meaning friends, who said things like, "It will never be the same," or "They will never come home again." And while there is some truth in both of those statements, overall I tend to disagree. It's not the same, but it's not any worse - it's just different. And even though they don't come home every day, they DO come home, and we enjoy those times immensely.
As I look back over the chapters of the past four years, I see things that I fully expected did indeed come to fruition - like BIG tuition bills, new friendships, spiritual growth, emotional maturity, and that continued "fraying" of the kite string that I wrote about in 2009. But I also see those unexpected plot twists I didn't quite anticipate - things such as car accidents (one involving a pedestrian - if you haven't heard that story, ask Becca sometime - it's quite a memory!), sickness (some quite serious), broken hearts, a summer for Sarah spent in Costa Rica, middle-of-the-night phone calls, a duck blocking the front door (ask Sarah about that one), and the girls living in different cities during their last semester of college due to Becca's internship.
I could write volumes about each of our girls (and our boy as well), all of the wonderful attributes they possess, as well as their quirks and weaknesses. I could also write forever about all of the things I have experienced as their mother these past four years - it would make for quite a novel! But, I can sum it all up in a few sentences without going into great detail. What I have learned during these college years is something that Sarah Strohmeyer succinctly wrote when she said, “A mother is a mother from the moment her baby is first placed in her arms until eternity. It didn't matter if her child were three, thirteen, or thirty.” This mothering thing doesn't ever end - it just changes. When our girls were babies, I remember thinking that it would be so much easier to be a mom when they were grown, but experience has taught me otherwise. In a lot of ways, it becomes more difficult. But one thing's for sure - I would not trade my role as Mother of Sarah, Rebecca and Caleb for anything in this world. Although I am admittedly biased, they are three of the finest Christian young people I have ever known. They are not perfect, but they love the Lord, have each developed their own faith and their own individual relationships with Him, and they are a blessing to all who are privileged to know them. And because of them, I am blessed with having other young Christians in my life - friends of my children - who also have a passion for serving our God. What an encouragement!
Back in 2009 when I wrote about the girls' impending departure to College Station, I ended that with a quote from Erma Bombeck. About raising children she wrote, " “You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you're both breathless. They crash. They hit the rooftop. You patch and comfort, adjust and teach them. Finally they are airborne... They need more string and you keep letting it out. But with each twist of the ball of twine, there is a sadness that goes with joy. The kite becomes more distant, and you know it won't be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that binds you two together and will soar as it is meant to soar, free and alone. Only then do you know that you did your job." Four years ago I wrote that they weren't ready to snap the lifeline; however, the fraying process had begun. But now, that lifeline is about to snap. They are ready. I have no doubt they will indeed soar. And while the "College Life" chapter for them is about to end, my reality of being the mother of a college student will continue for a few more years, thanks to our boy - that makes me smile!
And so, we look to the future, where the story of the lives of our girls will take on more individual volumes, as Sarah will soon become Mrs. Renz, move to Houston, become a teacher, and begin her next chapter there. Likewise, Rebecca's story will take her fully into the adult world as a health educator in as yet an undetermined location, where she will have a lasting influence in improving the lives of children. Such new and exciting times for both of them! But, even with all of the changes, one thing is certain - I will always be their mother, their greatest fan, and their fiercest advocate. As long as God gives me breath, I will be there at a moment's notice when they need me, and will always be just a phone call away for both of them. And I will always feel the way I have felt since the early morning hours of September 21, 1990, when I held them for the first time - - overwhelmingly unworthy, but so grateful to God for the blessings they are in my life, as well as awe-struck and humbled that I was chosen to be their mother. God truly gave me the best.
We embarked on this new college journey nearly four years ago, and I still vividly remember how I felt as Jeff, Caleb and I descended the stairs at the girls' new apartment that hot August afternoon in 2009, got into our car, and headed back home without them - empty. I kept telling myself they were ready, that this was the way it is supposed to be, and that it was good that they had each other. But I still couldn't help but feel a certain sadness. I knew this would begin a new chapter in our lives, and that the last chapter entitled, "Our Girls' Life Under Our Roof" was forever ended. And just like the yet un-turned pages in any book, this new chapter of "Mother of College Students" was full of unknowns. I heard comments from well-meaning friends, who said things like, "It will never be the same," or "They will never come home again." And while there is some truth in both of those statements, overall I tend to disagree. It's not the same, but it's not any worse - it's just different. And even though they don't come home every day, they DO come home, and we enjoy those times immensely.
As I look back over the chapters of the past four years, I see things that I fully expected did indeed come to fruition - like BIG tuition bills, new friendships, spiritual growth, emotional maturity, and that continued "fraying" of the kite string that I wrote about in 2009. But I also see those unexpected plot twists I didn't quite anticipate - things such as car accidents (one involving a pedestrian - if you haven't heard that story, ask Becca sometime - it's quite a memory!), sickness (some quite serious), broken hearts, a summer for Sarah spent in Costa Rica, middle-of-the-night phone calls, a duck blocking the front door (ask Sarah about that one), and the girls living in different cities during their last semester of college due to Becca's internship.
I could write volumes about each of our girls (and our boy as well), all of the wonderful attributes they possess, as well as their quirks and weaknesses. I could also write forever about all of the things I have experienced as their mother these past four years - it would make for quite a novel! But, I can sum it all up in a few sentences without going into great detail. What I have learned during these college years is something that Sarah Strohmeyer succinctly wrote when she said, “A mother is a mother from the moment her baby is first placed in her arms until eternity. It didn't matter if her child were three, thirteen, or thirty.” This mothering thing doesn't ever end - it just changes. When our girls were babies, I remember thinking that it would be so much easier to be a mom when they were grown, but experience has taught me otherwise. In a lot of ways, it becomes more difficult. But one thing's for sure - I would not trade my role as Mother of Sarah, Rebecca and Caleb for anything in this world. Although I am admittedly biased, they are three of the finest Christian young people I have ever known. They are not perfect, but they love the Lord, have each developed their own faith and their own individual relationships with Him, and they are a blessing to all who are privileged to know them. And because of them, I am blessed with having other young Christians in my life - friends of my children - who also have a passion for serving our God. What an encouragement!
Back in 2009 when I wrote about the girls' impending departure to College Station, I ended that with a quote from Erma Bombeck. About raising children she wrote, " “You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you're both breathless. They crash. They hit the rooftop. You patch and comfort, adjust and teach them. Finally they are airborne... They need more string and you keep letting it out. But with each twist of the ball of twine, there is a sadness that goes with joy. The kite becomes more distant, and you know it won't be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that binds you two together and will soar as it is meant to soar, free and alone. Only then do you know that you did your job." Four years ago I wrote that they weren't ready to snap the lifeline; however, the fraying process had begun. But now, that lifeline is about to snap. They are ready. I have no doubt they will indeed soar. And while the "College Life" chapter for them is about to end, my reality of being the mother of a college student will continue for a few more years, thanks to our boy - that makes me smile!
And so, we look to the future, where the story of the lives of our girls will take on more individual volumes, as Sarah will soon become Mrs. Renz, move to Houston, become a teacher, and begin her next chapter there. Likewise, Rebecca's story will take her fully into the adult world as a health educator in as yet an undetermined location, where she will have a lasting influence in improving the lives of children. Such new and exciting times for both of them! But, even with all of the changes, one thing is certain - I will always be their mother, their greatest fan, and their fiercest advocate. As long as God gives me breath, I will be there at a moment's notice when they need me, and will always be just a phone call away for both of them. And I will always feel the way I have felt since the early morning hours of September 21, 1990, when I held them for the first time - - overwhelmingly unworthy, but so grateful to God for the blessings they are in my life, as well as awe-struck and humbled that I was chosen to be their mother. God truly gave me the best.
Monday, April 29, 2013
"How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?" ~ Dr. Seuss
I am posting something below that I wrote on August 20, 2009 as we were preparing to take our girls off to college for the first time. It seems unreal that four years have passed, and they will be graduating from Texas A&M University in a few weeks. I will be writing about my thoughts on this milestone in their lives sometime next week, and I thought it would be good to post my perspective from four years ago before I write about graduation. So, here are my thoughts from 2009 . . .
“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” ~Carol Sobieski and Thomas Meehan, Annie
I’m sitting here on the eve of taking our daughters to college, and my heart is full. The preparations have all been made – the apartment has been rented, the cable/internet service ordered, the electricity is scheduled to be turned on, some “brawny young men” have been enticed by the offer of free pizza to help us unload, the boxes and bags have been packed, and the truck is soon to be loaded and ready to go. Other, more important preparations have been made as well – SAT & ACT tests were taken, college prep courses were suffered through, college applications were filled out, acceptance letters received & rejoiced over, scholarship applications were poured over, and deadlines were met. High School graduation was earned & celebrated, and New Student Conferences & registration were attended. We have indeed checked everything off our lists, and the goal for which the girls have striven in earnest over the past few years is within reach. We leave for College Station early in the morning, where they will officially become Aggies. College students. Living on their own. Adults.
I’m not sure when this happened. It seems like only yesterday that we were buying first-day-of-school clothes for their big adventure into pre-school. I remember the sadness for me, coupled with excitement for them, that I felt the first time I left them at school. I really thought that the sadness was only going to be a one-time, first-year feeling, as we would settle in to a “school age” routine, and it would become commonplace. What I learned, though, was that EVERY first day of school brought feelings of sadness, as it became a tangible reminder for me of the swift passage of time, and the rapidity with which they were growing. Those feelings are even more pronounced this year.
From the time they were conceived, I have been told to enjoy every moment. I have made a conscious effort to do just that – I have tried to fully live and absorb every moment of every stage. (And, admittedly, some stages have been more enjoyable than others!) I know we have been working toward this moment since they were born – we have been raising them & teaching them to prepare them to LEAVE. And they are ready. I’m firmly convinced that these two young ladies are MILES ahead of where their mom was at their age in their maturity and spiritual strength. (For a glimpse into that, go read sarah’s blog @ www.pleonast.com/sarahs.) They are ready to embark on their college career, make their places in a new congregation, and be true lights in a world of darkness.
I’m very proud of them, and although I am admittedly a bit biased, I would dare say you will be hard pressed to find two more lovely, godly, sweet, caring, thoughtful, beautiful young ladies anywhere.
I love Erma Bombeck’s analogy to children as kites. She wrote, “You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you're both breathless. They crash. They hit the rooftop. You patch and comfort, adjust and teach them. Finally they are airborne... They need more string and you keep letting it out. But with each twist of the ball of twine, there is a sadness that goes with joy. The kite becomes more distant, and you know it won't be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that binds you two together and will soar as it is meant to soar, free and alone. Only then do you know that you did your job." I don’t think our girls are ready to “snap the lifeline” completely, but I know they are ready & eager to begin the fraying process that will cause its ultimate break. And while part of me aches to see that happen, and will miss the daily interaction of having them living under our roof, I am trying hard to view it as just another “stage” in this wonderful parenting journey, and to embrace it fully. And I still have one chick left in the nest – for him I am thankful!
“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” ~Carol Sobieski and Thomas Meehan, Annie
I’m sitting here on the eve of taking our daughters to college, and my heart is full. The preparations have all been made – the apartment has been rented, the cable/internet service ordered, the electricity is scheduled to be turned on, some “brawny young men” have been enticed by the offer of free pizza to help us unload, the boxes and bags have been packed, and the truck is soon to be loaded and ready to go. Other, more important preparations have been made as well – SAT & ACT tests were taken, college prep courses were suffered through, college applications were filled out, acceptance letters received & rejoiced over, scholarship applications were poured over, and deadlines were met. High School graduation was earned & celebrated, and New Student Conferences & registration were attended. We have indeed checked everything off our lists, and the goal for which the girls have striven in earnest over the past few years is within reach. We leave for College Station early in the morning, where they will officially become Aggies. College students. Living on their own. Adults.
I’m not sure when this happened. It seems like only yesterday that we were buying first-day-of-school clothes for their big adventure into pre-school. I remember the sadness for me, coupled with excitement for them, that I felt the first time I left them at school. I really thought that the sadness was only going to be a one-time, first-year feeling, as we would settle in to a “school age” routine, and it would become commonplace. What I learned, though, was that EVERY first day of school brought feelings of sadness, as it became a tangible reminder for me of the swift passage of time, and the rapidity with which they were growing. Those feelings are even more pronounced this year.
From the time they were conceived, I have been told to enjoy every moment. I have made a conscious effort to do just that – I have tried to fully live and absorb every moment of every stage. (And, admittedly, some stages have been more enjoyable than others!) I know we have been working toward this moment since they were born – we have been raising them & teaching them to prepare them to LEAVE. And they are ready. I’m firmly convinced that these two young ladies are MILES ahead of where their mom was at their age in their maturity and spiritual strength. (For a glimpse into that, go read sarah’s blog @ www.pleonast.com/sarahs.) They are ready to embark on their college career, make their places in a new congregation, and be true lights in a world of darkness.
I’m very proud of them, and although I am admittedly a bit biased, I would dare say you will be hard pressed to find two more lovely, godly, sweet, caring, thoughtful, beautiful young ladies anywhere.
I love Erma Bombeck’s analogy to children as kites. She wrote, “You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you're both breathless. They crash. They hit the rooftop. You patch and comfort, adjust and teach them. Finally they are airborne... They need more string and you keep letting it out. But with each twist of the ball of twine, there is a sadness that goes with joy. The kite becomes more distant, and you know it won't be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that binds you two together and will soar as it is meant to soar, free and alone. Only then do you know that you did your job." I don’t think our girls are ready to “snap the lifeline” completely, but I know they are ready & eager to begin the fraying process that will cause its ultimate break. And while part of me aches to see that happen, and will miss the daily interaction of having them living under our roof, I am trying hard to view it as just another “stage” in this wonderful parenting journey, and to embrace it fully. And I still have one chick left in the nest – for him I am thankful!
Friday, March 15, 2013
"Who will tell whether one happy moment of love or the joy of breathing or walking on a bright morning and smelling the fresh air, is not worth all the suffering and effort which life implies." ~Erich Fromm
Some observations I have made about life over the past few months:
- No matter how old I get, nor how long he's been gone, there will always be those days and circumstances in my life when I would give anything to be able to pick up the phone, call my daddy, and ask for his wise opinion and advice. I miss him.
- Being a mother doesn't end when the children are no longer teenagers - it just changes, and in some ways gets more challenging. In her book, Raising Blaze, Debra Ginsberg writes, “Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did - that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.” What she writes is true. "Deep" and "sharp" aptly describe every emotion involving my children. But I wouldn't have it any other way!
- "I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth." (3 John 1:4) As my children are slipping further away from our nest, this passage becomes increasingly more meaningful to me. The three who call me "mom" each have their own faith, and their own individual relationships with their God. Truly, I have "no greater joy."
- I am blessed to have some of the most wonderful people God ever created as my family and friends. Zelda Fitzgerald wrote, "Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.” Just when I think I can't possibly love them more, I realize I do.
- It really is the "little things" that mean the most . . . the young friend who does the unexpected act of selfless, thoughtful kindness for us; the young song leader who asks me what my favorite hymn is so that he can lead it on my birthday, and does - even though he's never even sung it before; the note received in the mail; the phone call from a friend; the text message that brings a smile . . . the list goes on and on.
- Children are precious. Dickens wrote, "It is not a slight thing when they who are so fresh from God, love us." Not a sight thing, indeed! The innocent trust and the love I receive from my little friends brings inexpressible joy.
- "Never judge a man until you've walked two moons in his moccasins." No matter what I "think" I know about someone, I've learned to never assign motives, or to even pretend that I understand why someone reacts like they do in any given situation. I can't see behind the scenes, and have no idea what someone might be dealing with privately. Similarly, even if I do know what they are going through, and feel I have experienced the same trial, I need to be careful. Everyone's pain is different, even when it involves similar experiences.
- There are some kindnesses in life that can never be repaid. However, I can make it my aim to always try my best to find opportunities to "pay it forward."
- People are the same. Everyone has the need and desire to be accepted, believed in, cared about, forgiven, loved, trusted, understood, and valued. No one has it all together, and everyone struggles with something.
- The most important decision one will ever make in this life is who they choose to marry. The one with whom you share your life will either push you closer to God, or pull you from Him. I thank God every single day for the blessing of a godly mate, and I pray daily that God will bless our children with the same.
- Life is short, and passes quickly. I would do well to consciously think about that as I get out of bed each day, and live accordingly.
- Simple pleasures should be fully enjoyed - that first sip of coffee in the morning, the way my little dog greets me with a wagging tail, Andy's frozen custard, a walk around the block, a tall glass of cold lemonade on a hot day, and chocolate in any form.
- Attending the funeral of an elderly friend followed by a trip to the hospital to meet a brand new baby can do wonders at putting life in perspective.
- As much as we say we should never take anything for granted, I do - every single day.
- God is good - all the time.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
"If a man does not make new acquaintance as he advances through life, he will soon find himself left alone. A man, Sir, should keep his friendships in constant repair." ~Samuel Johnson
I've been reading a book called The Art of Neighboring. I'm about 3/4 of the way through, and although interesting, it is really nothing earth shattering, or revolutionary. The focus of the book is to encourage the reader to connect on a personal level with people, beginning with those who live in our neighborhoods. It offers suggestions such as baking cookies to take to new neighbors, or offering to help a neighbor you see who might be struggling with an outdoor project. Common sense things, it would seem.
It is sad to me that the need for such a book exists. When I was growing up, we knew our neighbors. We knew about their lives, where they worked, and where they went to church. I took piano lessons from the lady 3 doors down, and I played with kids from all over the neighborhood. Of the sixteen or so houses on our street, I knew the names of everyone who lived in those homes. I also frequently went inside of at least twelve of those houses - usually to play with their children, or to babysit. I knew the stories of these families, and they knew ours. These days, people in most neighborhoods generally don't know one another. We drive out of our garages each morning, and back into them each evening, with nothing more than an occasional wave as we pass.
Not only were we connected with our neighbors when I was growing up, but we had an even stronger connection with our brethren. It was not uncommon for someone to stop by on a Saturday, just because they happened to be near our neighborhood. In fact, it was uncommon for that NOT to happen. And we did the same. Those people were closer than family. Our home was their home, and vice versa. We knew each other intimately, shared each others' joys, and helped each other through difficulties. I've often wondered how my brethren here and now would react if I just showed up at their door one day because I happened to be in the neighborhood. I don't really know what the response would be because people just don't do that sort of thing anymore. And as a result, we don't know each other as well as brethren did in times' past.
Sadly, I don't think the "art of neighboring" exists on the scale it once did, and I think the reasons for that are many. Perhaps the main reason is the very thing I'm doing right now - using the internet. While blogging, Facebook, email, and texting can be a wonderful source for keeping in touch, many tend to use those media as their only source of communication. When our girls were in Junior High, one of their friends lost her father, and I took the girls to the funeral. During the eulogy, the only mention of this man's friendships was his "online friends." The minister read from "posts" he had printed of these far away online friends' words of sympathy. I remember being shocked by that, and wondering why he didn't touch the lives of those he saw daily - or if he did, why no mention was made of them.
So, what's the solution? How do we get back to the place where we interact with people on a more personal level? Log off. Go outside. Make an effort. Learn about the lives of those you are around daily. Be more of a "there you are" person, and less of a "here I am" one. Visit someone, even if they seem shocked or uncomfortable at first - or, even better, invite someone into your home for a meal. Take someone out to lunch. Make a phone call instead of sending an email. Hand write a note or letter to mail instead of messaging someone on Facebook.
In Acts 2:46, the early Christians "continued daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house . . ." They saw the need for daily interaction on a personal level, and they grew as a result. Peter tells us in 1 Peter 1:22 that we are to "love one another fervently with a pure heart." We can't do that by waving from the inside of our cars, or seeing each other three times a week at a church building.
I'm logging off now, and don't be surprised to find me knocking on your door. I'll bring some cookies.
It is sad to me that the need for such a book exists. When I was growing up, we knew our neighbors. We knew about their lives, where they worked, and where they went to church. I took piano lessons from the lady 3 doors down, and I played with kids from all over the neighborhood. Of the sixteen or so houses on our street, I knew the names of everyone who lived in those homes. I also frequently went inside of at least twelve of those houses - usually to play with their children, or to babysit. I knew the stories of these families, and they knew ours. These days, people in most neighborhoods generally don't know one another. We drive out of our garages each morning, and back into them each evening, with nothing more than an occasional wave as we pass.
Not only were we connected with our neighbors when I was growing up, but we had an even stronger connection with our brethren. It was not uncommon for someone to stop by on a Saturday, just because they happened to be near our neighborhood. In fact, it was uncommon for that NOT to happen. And we did the same. Those people were closer than family. Our home was their home, and vice versa. We knew each other intimately, shared each others' joys, and helped each other through difficulties. I've often wondered how my brethren here and now would react if I just showed up at their door one day because I happened to be in the neighborhood. I don't really know what the response would be because people just don't do that sort of thing anymore. And as a result, we don't know each other as well as brethren did in times' past.
Sadly, I don't think the "art of neighboring" exists on the scale it once did, and I think the reasons for that are many. Perhaps the main reason is the very thing I'm doing right now - using the internet. While blogging, Facebook, email, and texting can be a wonderful source for keeping in touch, many tend to use those media as their only source of communication. When our girls were in Junior High, one of their friends lost her father, and I took the girls to the funeral. During the eulogy, the only mention of this man's friendships was his "online friends." The minister read from "posts" he had printed of these far away online friends' words of sympathy. I remember being shocked by that, and wondering why he didn't touch the lives of those he saw daily - or if he did, why no mention was made of them.
So, what's the solution? How do we get back to the place where we interact with people on a more personal level? Log off. Go outside. Make an effort. Learn about the lives of those you are around daily. Be more of a "there you are" person, and less of a "here I am" one. Visit someone, even if they seem shocked or uncomfortable at first - or, even better, invite someone into your home for a meal. Take someone out to lunch. Make a phone call instead of sending an email. Hand write a note or letter to mail instead of messaging someone on Facebook.
In Acts 2:46, the early Christians "continued daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house . . ." They saw the need for daily interaction on a personal level, and they grew as a result. Peter tells us in 1 Peter 1:22 that we are to "love one another fervently with a pure heart." We can't do that by waving from the inside of our cars, or seeing each other three times a week at a church building.
I'm logging off now, and don't be surprised to find me knocking on your door. I'll bring some cookies.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
"I am a part of all that I have met..." ~Alfred Lord Tennyson
It's December 1, and my November Thankfulness Project is
complete. To be honest, I could keep doing the entries for at least
several more months - I didn't cover even half of my list, even with my
"cheating" of grouping people together in one entry. And
interestingly enough, as I added an entry each day, it spurred memories of
others, and my list continued to grow. This November project has been good
for me. It has brought to my remembrance many people who have at some
point in my life made an impression - collectively, they have made me who I am.
I am so blessed through the people in my life, and I need to make sure
they know that.
However, I must be honest with you about my
"list." There are several names on that list that I decided not
to write about, even if their name was randomly drawn. Why? Because
the influence they had on me, and the lessons I learned from my experiences
with those people were not positive, and I would never air that in a public
forum. Some of them were hard - very hard. So, why am I thankful
for them, and why are they even on the list? Because we learn from every
relationship we have in life - both the good and the bad. In fact, I have
probably learned from the bad, painful experiences I have had with people in life
much more than I have from the good - or at least as much. Those
"bad" experiences have made me more sensitive in a lot of ways to the
needs of others, and for that I am thankful.
As I started this project, I quoted from "It's A Wonderful Life" in my October 31st entry. One of the most memorable scenes in that movie is when Clarence tells George,“Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?” Clarence was so right. The quote I used in the title of this entry speaks to the same concept. I AM a part of all that I have met, and that leads to a sobering thought - All I have ever met are a part of me. Now that I am through looking outward at others, I need to take a long, hard look at myself. Every day I come into contact with people in a multitude of ways - some live in my home, some I talk to on a regular basis, some I keep in contact with via email and Facebook, and others I simply encounter in random ways. If they were to make a list like I have made, would they be willing to write publicly about me, or would I fall under that category of those who had an impact, but in a painful or difficult way? That's something I need to consider.
I don't know for sure what direction I will go with this blog for now. I enjoy writing, and will continue to add entries, but probably not on a daily basis. I hope you will continue to stop by as you have opportunity. I'll close for now with the following thoughts from the Apostle Paul, penned in Phil. 2:1-8: "So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death,even death on a cross." When we live with a Christ-like mind, we will be that positive influence in the lives of others. I plan to work harder at that, and I hope you will, too.
Friday, November 30, 2012
“Friends are the family we choose for ourselves.” ~Edna Buchanan
When I was four years old, the Reynolds moved to my hometown. They quickly became like family to us. Their daughter was 10 years old than me, and she took a special interest in me. She would play with me, have me come over and spend the night with her, and make me feel like I was a teenager, too! I loved going over to their house.
The year after they moved to town, they endured tragedy when their 10 year old son died suddenly. It was the beginning of the summer, and since Mrs. Reynolds worked outside the home, their daughter came over every day to spend the days with us - she didn't want to be home alone. What a fun summer for me!
Eventually, their daughter married. I was in the wedding, and when she moved to a nearby town, I would spend school breaks at her house. I also loved being at the Reynolds house, and Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds took a personal interest in my young life. They attended every piano recital, band concert, and school event that came along. And they continued that, whenever possible, with my children as well. Going to their home always seemed just the same as going to my own home. What a blessing they were in my young life!
The Reynolds were some of the most hospitable people I've ever known. It was impossible to be in their home without eating or drinking something, because Mr. Reynolds was relentless in offering - sometimes it was easier just to accept, even if you really didn't want anything! They made me feel like part of their family, but I wasn't the only one. They were always there, and could always be counted on. The night my daddy died in an accident, they were the first ones to arrive at my mother's house, and the last to leave. They opened up their home to out-of-town family of ours on that occasion, as well as other times - people they had never met before. And after my father's death, they were there for my mother - they would drag her all over East Texas and beyond, to any and every event they went to. On the first Valentine's day after Daddy died, Mr. Reynolds took his wife - and my mother - out to eat.
Mr. Reynolds passed away several years ago. I was able to go visit him shortly before he died, and say my goodbyes, and I'm thankful I had that opportunity. Mrs. Reynolds continues to live in my hometown, and now my mother and her new husband are the ones who drag her all over the countryside. The Reynolds taught me a lot as a child. From them I first learned that family is not limited to blood relatives. They showed me that by taking an active interest in the lives of others, strong, lifelong relationships can form. They taught me hospitality, and service. My childhood was brighter, and my life as a whole is better, because of the Reynolds, and I'm thankful that God blessed my life with them.
This ends my November posts of Thankfulness for the people in my life. I will write a concluding, wrap-up blog entry tomorrow, December 1.
The year after they moved to town, they endured tragedy when their 10 year old son died suddenly. It was the beginning of the summer, and since Mrs. Reynolds worked outside the home, their daughter came over every day to spend the days with us - she didn't want to be home alone. What a fun summer for me!
Eventually, their daughter married. I was in the wedding, and when she moved to a nearby town, I would spend school breaks at her house. I also loved being at the Reynolds house, and Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds took a personal interest in my young life. They attended every piano recital, band concert, and school event that came along. And they continued that, whenever possible, with my children as well. Going to their home always seemed just the same as going to my own home. What a blessing they were in my young life!
The Reynolds were some of the most hospitable people I've ever known. It was impossible to be in their home without eating or drinking something, because Mr. Reynolds was relentless in offering - sometimes it was easier just to accept, even if you really didn't want anything! They made me feel like part of their family, but I wasn't the only one. They were always there, and could always be counted on. The night my daddy died in an accident, they were the first ones to arrive at my mother's house, and the last to leave. They opened up their home to out-of-town family of ours on that occasion, as well as other times - people they had never met before. And after my father's death, they were there for my mother - they would drag her all over East Texas and beyond, to any and every event they went to. On the first Valentine's day after Daddy died, Mr. Reynolds took his wife - and my mother - out to eat.
Mr. Reynolds passed away several years ago. I was able to go visit him shortly before he died, and say my goodbyes, and I'm thankful I had that opportunity. Mrs. Reynolds continues to live in my hometown, and now my mother and her new husband are the ones who drag her all over the countryside. The Reynolds taught me a lot as a child. From them I first learned that family is not limited to blood relatives. They showed me that by taking an active interest in the lives of others, strong, lifelong relationships can form. They taught me hospitality, and service. My childhood was brighter, and my life as a whole is better, because of the Reynolds, and I'm thankful that God blessed my life with them.
This ends my November posts of Thankfulness for the people in my life. I will write a concluding, wrap-up blog entry tomorrow, December 1.
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