Yearly Archives: 2012

Feeling Brown

Jots and Tittles

For today, I’m departing from the usual fare here—perhaps because it’s school time and creative writing assignments inspire me—please allow me some poetic license as I explore the color brown… and perhaps you’ll want to add a comment about the color that most appeals to you!P1080253

 

Brown of hair and eye, and personality myself, I love the color brown. I once sat beside someone who scorned its flatness unknowingly and extolled the color pink which she wore and carried. She’s right. Pink is lovely too. But I’m most at home with brown.

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The cedar shakes of the house Dad built when we were young were brown, a honeyed brown growing dark with age. The wood he lathed and loved was brown, whether golden like oak or rosy like cherry or with the dark dignity of walnut. Rich wood grain and softest leather, garden soil and firewood, all share the natural warmth of brown. Mud is brown too I suppose, but it is good company for bare toes, or mountain bikes exploring, or first pies or desert toads. Brown is no flat dull monochrome. Consider cinnamon and nutmeg, root beer and dear old ‘Shags’ (my childhood mutt)— all brown things I’ve loved.

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And don’t forget chocolate. Who doesn’t love it? Whether milk or dark, chips or syrup, brownies, mousse or hot cocoa, all are variations of delicious brown as are the nuts that compliment them: almonds, pecans, walnuts; all are robed in brown. And did I mention caramel? Or better yet, penuche. Made from brown sugar, it is a treat, particularly on zucchini cupcakes!

But lest we get to salivating, consider just the words themselves that enliven the dull-sound of ‘brown’: chestnut, fawn and auburn, burnt umber and mahogany, russet and sienna…

And if you’re still hungry consider these tasteless ones: liver, taupe and tan, ecru and desert sand…

But speaking of words, my favorite old Bibles are also covered in brown, one a tawny supple brown, the other a thick dark buffalo hide all beaded in translucent glass pastels by my mother, who incidentally dislikes the color brown because once she wore a uniform of brown that she despised… (Fortunate for me, mine was navy and white!)

Mom - teenyears

In the world of fashion brown is not so popular as black. Dr.Seuss had it about right: “Mr. Brown is out of town…” but with cool weather coming I had a hankering for a light-weight brown sweater. When the mall failed me I turned to second-hand values and what should jump out at me from all the long row of hangered sweaters in the big city thrift store but this elegant soft brown one with pearl buttons… and soon thereafter a fitting skirt, brown of course ( : And one day there will be the perfect purse just right the size, just so the shape and soft and warm to hold, and brown…and then I will not mind the cost, maybe?

writing in brown

Hmm… Now musings, no matter how frivolous are quite incomplete without the question why? Why do I like brown? I ask myself. It’s how I’m wired, to treasure what’s warm and steady, soft and deep, lustrous without being showy. Serious without being formal. Inconspicuous. It’s the stuff of nostalgia and antiques besides, like sienna photographs—things that speak of tradition and unchanging roots… For all these reasons I love brown.

Great Aunt LucilleMrs WG Mahanes 1924

But ha! The joke’s on me, for I am turning gray. Perhaps brown cannot stay… but for today, I’ll cherish brown. (And go see if there are any cupcakes left!!)

–LS

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Just as I am…

All Sorts

I find myself needing to return often to the essence of the Gospel, to stir my soul to gratitude, to shake indifference and soften callouses derived from long acquaintance. 

I’ve just finished a book toward that end entitled: The Explicit Gospel written by pastor Matt Chandler. He knows the hope of the Gospel well, having come near death with an inoperable brain tumor, having suffered through its implications with great grace and having lived to continue preaching the Gospel whose hope extends beyond the grave.  So this book grabbed my attention when it came out earlier this year.

I find myself clearly pegged in its descriptions of those who have focused too long on the Gospel’s personal implications and neglected to be about the business of reaching a world God longs to reconcile to Himself…But I kept reading.  Apart from taking the full import of the Gospel to heart, recognizing this Father heart that has compassion on His children as they learn to walk and run and climb tall trees… who has no reprimand when they fall down in the process but continues to extend grace for this walk by faith, without condemnation…apart from this gospel what have I to say?

I have nothing to offer but myself, a living sacrifice for what it’s worth. My worth is all wrapped up in how He loves me, not anything I’ll ever do for Him…He sees this offering as holy and acceptable, washed clean in Jesus’ blood, covered by His righteousness.  What can I say?  Who am I to contend that I have failed, that I fall short, that I only wish I could be other than I am…

I stand in the grace of God, in this great Gospel that saves me and then gives me a Savior to live in me, through me, by faith.  The ‘me’ I regret and find self-serving and unworthy no longer is my identity.  I am crucified with Christ. (Gal.2:20)  It is no longer I that lives.  This life I live in the flesh is not my own but Christ’s.  I live it by faith in the Son who so loved me as to grant me His own life, not just at some historic moment but today…

And so I read and am reminded of the ‘grace-driven’ way of life that marks one who understands the Gospel. I am pricked, challenged, encouraged, and made hopeful.  The Gospel is enough for the likes of me, still,  just as I am.  And that great old hymn comes wandering through my mind.  I look it up and read the words all through as a morning first-thing prayer:

Just as I am, without one plea, but that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidd’st me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come!  I come!

Just as I am, and waiting not to rid my soul of one dark blot,
To Thee whose blood can cleanse each spot, O Lamb of God, I come!
I come!

Just as I am, though tossed about with many a conflict, many a doubt,
Fighting and fears within, without, O Lamb of God, I come! I come!

Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind:  sight, riches, healing of the mind,
Yea all I need, in Thee I find, O Lamb of God, I come!  I come!

Just as I am, Thou wilt receive, wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
Because Thy promise I believe, O Lamb of God, I come!  I come!

[by Charlotte Elliott, 1789-1871]

And I extend its hopefulness to you and offer this reminder of the Gospel that is enough for the likes of you and I, no matter where we’re at. 

To abbreviate Paul: Christ died for our sins. He was buried and was raised.  We have hope in this lifetime and beyond! (I Cor.15:3ff) 

The Gospel is enough for all I am and all I’m not.

–LS

If you have the time, have a look at my book review of The Explicit Gospel here. I trust the excerpts will bless you as they have me.

“Now I would remind you, brothers, of the gospel I preached to you, which you received, in which you stand, and by which you are being saved, if you hold fast to the word I preached to you—unless you believed in vain.”
(I Cor.15:1,2)

“And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard…” (Col.1:21-23)

“But by the grace of God I am what I am.” (I Cor.15:10)

 

 

What’s a Grandmom to do?

All Sorts

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Not sure that I know, certainly don’t have a formula,  but I’m finding out as I go. This week it’s meant…

…being on call: to wash and band-aid a bleeding foot, to teach little legs to climb down a ladder backwards, to tuck a waking little boy back in his bed, to wake up promptly with a smile, and yes, to cuddle up and read a book…

…being in the yard: collecting fallen apples, manning the swings, picking plump yellow pear tomatoes, being the refuge from the sprinkler, taking pictures of little people in their playhouse.

…being in the kitchen: making bread together, cutting and peeling apples for applesauce, and apple bread, and apple crisp, stirring strong and licking spoons, fixing chicken, and brownies for dessert…

…teaching first notes on the piano: “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”–singing and playing together.

…holding an awestruck baby as he listens and wonders in his brand-new world.

…taking a walk to get a slushie and play at the park.

The job description is endless. What does it take to be a Grandma? For now it means being here to answer when the call comes: “Grandmom?”

And as I write a little voice carries up the stairs, freshly returning from a walk with mommy and daddy:

“Where’s Grandmom?”

Here I am. Gotta go!

–LS

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(Please pardon this abbreviated post; this ‘Grandmom’ stuff has definitely limited my capacity for ponderings this week! So much else to do and to be. )

Great Expectations

All Sorts

On an otherwise unfettered day, content to be at home extracting the last days of summer’s leisure before the pace of fall kicks in…I am troubled by a gloomy companion, a faithless crony that rides on my shoulder under the name of Great Expectations. (Not to be confused with Dickens’ book by that name which has been my summer’s reading project, finished just this morning!)  It natters in my ear to the effect that:  What I do is not enough.  What I should do is unending.  While what I could do, if I would remains  a dark presentiment. This sense of not living up to expectations—God’s, my own, others’, threatens to steal today’s contentment. 

I’m determined to have done with it! And as I sit to take captive these errant thoughts and turn the light of Scripture on them my determination is heightened by the realization that this is not purely for my own sake.  For those around me likely feel in me this same sense of expectation with which I struggle—that they somehow be ‘more’—this illegitimate condemning, binding, stifling sense that they are failing to meet expectations—mine, their own, God’s and fellow believer’s.

We are all called to freedom–freedom to be who we are meant to be, to become who God has wired us to be, to live out His design for His great glory…without guilt, without disappointment, without regret.

This I want for me. This I want for all of us.  But how?  To silence the voices of unmet expectations, do I cease to read? Do I run from the Book that is also Life to me? Do I stay away from all things ‘church’? Do I turn a deaf ear to others?

Is this really a means of relief?  Or will it instead shut off the very words of truth that would point us all to freedom?! The Word, the Body, the fellowship with Father and Son by the Spirit—we cannot live without these, only flounder into ways that seem right but in the living of them are hollow dead ways.  Whether we choose to try harder or to give up trying in our quest to be free of endless expectations, our ways are dead ends apart from dependence on God.

We all fall short of the glory of God.

I will never live up to even my own expectations, let alone God’s, by trying to get it right, by hoping to do enough, be enough, sacrifice enough, obey well enough. Alas, conscientious Lindy, always wanting the directions to be clear so she can follow them to the “T” and so gain approval and thereby her significance in the world—be justified by keeping the rules. ( ?! ) And lo,
I’ve run headlong into a brick wall:

For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight.

How can I be so dense? Isn’t this basically saying that keeping the rules doesn’t work?! Can’t work. Won’t work. Makes no one significant! Keeping rules may look good, to people. It may make me feel good about myself. It may impress others (or not!), even gain one a reputation as a good person (or ‘sweet’ or ‘nice’ or some such ambiguity)…but it is of no relevance (did I admit that? Can I say this?) in God’s sight as far as currying favor is concerned.

For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

It’s the comparison to His goodness that’s the real rub. Nobody measures up with that. It’s no use trying.

Some figure this out more quickly than others. Shutting their ears to all expectations, they do whatever seems worth a try–determined not to heed the ill-trained conscience, not to resent or regret the consequences, not to give credence to any lofty expectations that might spoil the journey…they steel their souls to previous counsel, warning and instruction determined to find a new way, to find freedom. In short, to find rest for their souls outside the burdensome keeping of rules.

But alas, there is no glory here either. And the glory of God is what we were made for—to live in awe of it, to relish it and to reflect it. Only God’s glory will satisfy the deepest parts of us.

If such glory is not found in the summoning up all our sin-bent efforts to do good things and follow fine rules, then where?

If it is not discovered in a self-directed flight from restrictions and the qualms of conscience, then where?

Jesus beckons: Come to me. You’re tired. You’re carrying a load I never designed for you to bear. Here, tuck your head into my yoke. Walk with me. My load is manageable. My burden is light. You’ll find rest here, even while you’re working your way through life… (Mt.11:28-30)

This is what redemption is about. Technically, it is accomplished already. Practically, its effects are ongoing in the believer.  I need it, still. You need it. We all are dead without it. God reaching down to provide a sacrifice good enough to cover our insufficiency, still. God, justifying the ungodly, by faith.

And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly,  his faith is counted as righteousness…

God offers Himself freely still, for any disabled body’s benefit. Only terms: recognize you’re disabled and receive His offer to be righteous in your stead, this “righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe.”  You don’t have to measure up. There are no expectations, only that you bank on Your Benefactor’s goodness, by faith, to pay your debt.

And how do these reflections help me TODAY with all the shoulds and the coulds and the doubts that play havoc with my contentment in being who I am, where I am, just as I am in this moment, for His glory? They remind me that justification isn’t found in reading commandments (or rules, or instruction manuals) and seeking to implement them. Bringing glory to God is not a matter of begrudgingly putting aside the joy on my plate to attend to a peripheral round of ‘duties’ that should (?) take priority.

Justification is mine by faith in the One who provided it.  I’m not called on to prove it by my works, but to believe it and the works prepared for me from the foundation of the world will flow from my life. Justification calls me to believe that His righteousness is enough. He is in me and I in Him and as I abide in this Love, He will lead me in paths of righteousness for His glory’s sake. By faith I can offer this day, this moment, to Him–my body His instrument, as is. The rules hold no threat of condemnation. He will conform me to them as I walk with Him holding the Spirit’s hand, governed by the ‘perfect law of liberty’, destined for glory—”the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” (Rom.8:21)

And as He beckons me to “Come”, lay down my load of expectations, I take Him at His word, no matter how unlikely it sounds–this is faith. And I bow my neck again to carry His yoke—only the humble find rest. And together we walk through the doubts and by-pass the shoulds and coulds and pull only the weight I was designed to pull, digging the furrows together that are my lot to plow, trusting Him for the planting and the harvest, awestruck with this bountiful redemption He is accomplishing in me. This is the path to glory—my truly great expectation! 

“And those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified…” (Rom.8:30)

–LS

And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose.” Gal.20b,21

“For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love.” (Gal.5:6)

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For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin. But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law…the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. (Rom.3:20-25)

Hymns and Hope

All Sorts

I’ve been brought back to the old hymns lately. It’s taken some weeks of pulling away from contemporary tunes and lyrics to begin to hear the old ones singing in my head again. But I need the old ones. I need their eternal no-nonsense perspective. When I wake stiff-necked, when the old body just ain’t what she used to be, when joints don’t work as well as they once did, (when I can’t think of anything better to complain about than my body’s petty ailments!) I need the old hymns. They point me to the Savior who came to save me not just so I can feel good today while I’m ‘worshiping’ but so that I can live for His glory today despite what ails me! and what’s more, I can look forward to an eternity of joy in beholding His glory in the hereafter! They point me beyond myself and my present state, beyond the way I feel to my great and unchanging Hope–this great and unchanging Savior whose glory is the purpose of life the universe and everything!

So many of the old hymns give evidence that everything is not sunshine and happy times in this lifetime but that we are safe in His care and certain of better things to come… We’ve lost this sense of living with a hope of eternal joy. We want Eden now, and expect it to be restored post haste as part of the ‘deal’ we ‘accepted’ when we came to Jesus.  But look at the old lines: “Under His wings, O what precious enjoyment! There will I hide till life’s trials are o’er; Sheltered, protected, no evil can harm me; Resting in Jesus I’m safe evermore” (William Cushing, 1823-1902)

“Be still, my soul: the hour is hastning on When we shall be forever with the Lord, When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone, Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored. Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past, All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.” (Katharina von Schlegel, 1697)

Or how about this old one: “Fade, Fade, Each Earthly Joy”. The last stanza reads: “Farewell, mortality; Jesus is mine. Welcome, eternity; Jesus is mine. Welcome, O loved and blest, Welcome, sweet scenes of rest, Welcome, my Savior’s breast; Jesus is mine.” (Jane Bonar, 1821-1884) I need the old hymns because I need to be reminded of a theology that emphasizes the Kingdom of God as yet future in its fullness. We have been made new creatures in Christ, it is true, but these old bodies are waiting a future redemption. When Christ returns to set up His Kingdom all will be well. Until then we live in hope and no matter how good it gets here, it’s not Eden. No matter how bad, (and it will get worse before it gets better!) there is a Kingdom coming! And the only thing certain in this lifetime is that it’s subject to change without notice!

I escaped to the garden one morning this week when the house was too chilly and the sun far too inviting to think of hunkering down to desk work! It was one of those days where the bottom seemed to have dropped out of all the carefree summer fun. You know the kind– you wake to the awareness that physically speaking, life is not getting better.  Maybe your neck is stiff; your joints are sore… You’re getting older. You can tell it’s happening when all your yesterdays seem sweeter than your todays. And your tomorrows? Well, they just draw a bleak blank. Maybe you’re just tired from all the summer fun (?)…So I turned my small energies to wrestling with weeds in the hot morning sun. And as I worked Sunday’s hymn came singing through my head: “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness…” (Edward Mote, 1797-1874) It stirred me to think beyond my petty self-absorption. What was I hoping for anyway? A forever body in the here and now?! Endless carefree summer days?

I reflected on what a good thing it is that I have an Unchanging Savior. He never tires, (never grows old!) never loses perspective, and never puts aside His purpose of revealing His glory to me, in me, and through me. No wonder Paul said that rejoicing in the Lord would be a safeguard! (Phil. 3:1) He’s the only One who does not and will not change. I am fickle. My energies are finite. I’m in trouble if rejoicing in me is all I have.

One day I’m pedaling with the ocean breeze in my face, on top of the world. The next I’m hunkered over lesson plans with a stiff neck and sagging confidence. One day I’m floating serenely on a quiet lake without a care in the world, the next I’m troubled over a dozen dilemmas…. My salvation is about more than my fickle here and now, my pleasure in the moment—where I can be rejoicing in the feeling of sun and water on skin and the delight of wind in my hair one moment and the next be plunged into weary malaise… There’s no stability there; not unless in everything I’m turning my focus back to the glory of God, rejoicing in this moment because it is His doing, and trusting Him with whatever the next moment holds. My salvation is about rejoicing that I have a Savior whose agenda doesn’t change with the weather, who never tires or gives up on His plans for me…He has redeemed me for a purpose bigger than me. “When darkness veils His lovely face, I trust in His unchanging grace. When all around my soul give way, He then is all my hope and stay.” He has redeemed me for His glory.

Somehow, as I rejoice in all He is, I fulfill His purpose for my days. He intends for me to reflect His glory whether I’m sweating in the garden on my knees in the dirt or inhaling the essence of sweet peas on a summer’s evening. Whether I’m reveling in sunshine while floating on a secluded lake or bent over a desk grappling with lesson plans… In everything I’m meant to look to Him as Source and Solace, my beginning and ending, and my Song in the meantime. He’s the One constant in a lifetime of change. My hope can be built on nothing less.

–LS

“….for apart from God who can eat or who can have enjoyment?” Eccl.2:24,25

“So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” I Cor.10:31

“Finally, my brothers, rejoice in the Lord! It is no trouble for me to write the same things to you again, and it is a safeguard for you.”  Phil.3:1