I can only imagine...

     Yesterday, I heard "I Can Only Imagine" by Mercy Me on the radio.   I haven't heard the song in awhile, but I was instantly moved to tears and transported back to the moment I first heard it...at the funeral of a young man named Tommy who died too soon.  Our son was a pallbearer, and the large church was filled to capacity, with an overflow watching on monitors in a fellowship hall.  The service was moving and somber, a sad but joyous occasion because of Tommy's faith.

     In the fall of 2001, this song was newly released.  Tommy had heard it on the radio and downloaded it.  A friend sang it beautifully on that sad day which ended with bagpipes playing a mournful rendition of  "Amazing Grace" at the cemetery.

     That fall was a season of sadness.  First came the death Jake, the 15-year-old son of a high school friend who died in a tragic accident.  His funeral was so moving, sad - both a terrible and blessed day. 

     Then came 9/11, a time of intense national mourning and renewed faith.  That day had a profound impact on our nation and each American personally. But it was life-altering for the families of those who died on that awful day.

     Hearing this song again almost always brings tears as I remember the anguish and grief of those dark days, but I also rejoice in the hope believers have in Christ.  For every believer who has lost a loved one, this song opens a floodgate of praise. 

     " I can only imagine, when that day comes,
       And I find myself standing in the  sun.

     "I can only imagine when all I would do,
      Is forever, forever worship you..."

     If you've never heard it, or even if you have, listen and worship.

     http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_lrrq_opng


     "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him..."  I Corinthians 2:9

    Blessings on you today....

    

Reach Out & Touch

"Reach Out and Touch (Somebody's Hand)" was the debut solo single for Motown singer Diana Ross, released in April 1970.  The message of this song is hauntingly relevant in a world often devoid of human touch.

I wrote a few months ago about the impersonal nature of modern communication methods. We have reduced human contact to the maximum number of characters allowed in a tweet or text. We find affirmation in how many pins, retweets, comments, or "likes" we can accumulate. Through social media we can be "friends" with literally thousands without ever leaving home, meeting them, or even speaking to them.  We share personal information with multitudes, but do we really communicate?   

Communicating in our world is complex, instantaneous, and can occur completely without human contact. But contact is the key for humans.

Communicating is much more than just an exchange of words. When we converse face to face with another person, we send and receive messages in a multitude of ways. We connect through voice, eye contact and body language, shared memories, laughter, and touch. The best part of a meal with friends or family is the conversation, the connection we feel to those with whom we share the table.

Being able to see, speak with, and hug my adult children is a balm for my mother's heart. No matter how old they are or where they go, there is no substitute for actually sharing the same space with those I love. When weeks or months pass without seeing them, I feel a physical longing just to be with them.

Last summer at a wedding reception, an acquaintance told about the difficulty of communicating with her son who is in the military and was stationed at the time in South Korea.  Due to the time difference and the nature of his work, she lamented that she was only able to connect with him every few weeks.  Overhearing this, my son jokingly said: “I just live in Chicago, but my mom thinks it’s South Korea.”  It’s true; I do. While I appreciate the technology which allows us to stay in contact, I still want to see, speak with, and touch my family.

I was recently reminded that God feels the same way about us. He desires honest, real, face-to-face communication, not a brief text or tweet. He’s not satisfied with an email, video chat, or voice mail.  Like a loving parent, He wants the gift of our time and attention. There is no way to feel connected to Him without spending time with Him; there are no shortcuts to a relationship with Him. 

He doesn’t need our contact, but He wants it.  In the Garden of Eden, after Adam and Eve had broken His command and sinned, God came looking for them.  They hid in their shame.  “But the Lord God called to the man, ‘Where are you?’”  (Genesis 3:9)  Even knowing what they had done, God still desired to be with them, as He does with us.  Amazing….

“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”  Jeremiah 29:13

Link to "Reach Out and Touch (Somebody's Hand)" by Diana Ross.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=g-7qCG2_aaA

Early Morning Reveille

     When I went to camp as a child, we were awakened each morning by a scratchy record playing "Reveille," a trumpet call used to awaken military personnel at sunrise. The name comes from "réveillé", the French word for "wake up."  The sound of this familiar melody playing over the camp PA system was a signal for campers to rise and begin the new day; it was a morning wake up call.

     Mornings are best savored slowly for me now, which doesn't always happen.  I don't drink coffee, but I do have a morning routine that brings guidance, comfort, and peace.  So this is how I love to start my day....

      I begin with the Bible passage for the day in my One Year Chronological Bible (NIV).  I'm reading through the Bible this way for the second year, and I truly love it.  The entire Bible is divided into daily readings in the order the events actually occurred.  This arrangement has been very enlightening and has taught me so much. 

     There are three devotionals I like to use, if there's time. 

      Jesus Calling by Sarah Young is an excellent devotional book which I began reading in 2011.  It is written as if Jesus were speaking to you, and I often feel the day's entry is just for me.  The devotions are short but powerful.  The Bible verses included are always thought provoking.  Looking up the Scriptures has become a sort of spiritual treasure hunt for me after I finish reading the devotional - I'm excited read the verses and see which will "speak" to me each day.  This tiny little book has become widely popular, with sales exceeding 2.5 million.

     The Upper Room Daily Devotional is another important part of my morning.  I have been reading this little devotion daily for many years, and it is always insightful and relevant.  There is a Bible reading, short devotion, prayer, and thought for the day.  I'm often amazed at how devotions written by people from all over the world can speak to me personally as if written just for me.

    The third devotional book I use if possible is Choosing Joy: A 52-Week Devotional for Discovering True Happiness by Angela Thomas.  This book focuses each week on a different aspect of intentionally choosing joy in our daily lives and offers practical help for Christians.  I just began this book in 2012 but really like it.

    The most important part of my morning reveille is my prayer time.  I use a journal and incorporate Scripture into my prayers.  And I always begin with I Samuel 3:10- "Speak, Lord, for you servant is listening."

     Sometimes I listen to or sing praise music, light a candle, or write a psalm of praise to God.  Always I am changed....

     On the final day of camp, reveille was replaced by a cheesy song which happily proclaimed: "Good morning, good morning!"  What makes your morning good?  What is your reveille?

    

The Garden of Forking Paths

            My freshman comp teacher (whose name I have mercifully forgotten) believed himself to be a deep thinker. During class, he often dispensed wisdom about things he found witty, interesting, or absorbing while maintaining the façade of an academic elite. On a rainy day, he once said in a serious tone:  “The thing I hate most about rainy days is the rain leaves little brown circles on the toes of my tennis shoes, and they won’t wash out.”

He was study in contradiction who kept changing the rules.  This created frustration for students trying to determine exactly what their instructor required to get a good grade.  At the beginning of the semester, he promised a term paper at the end of semester would count for a large percentage of the final grade.  This produced hope that, while he gave out very low grades on essays, a good term paper could save us. 

But then, near the semester’s end, he suddenly had a mathematic epiphany and realized that allowing the final term paper to count so much would negate our earlier efforts.  This was exactly what we desired!

 

The most memorable thing about the class, however, was a single short story.  While we were required to purchase a literature book, we read only one story in the book.  We spent long, tortuous weeks reading and re-reading that story: The Garden of the Forking Paths by Jorge Luis Borges.  We studied the story line by line, word by word. With mind numbing determination, we discussed every nuance of the story, whether intended by the author or not.

 

"Red," he would say. "What deep, philosophical implications do you see in that word?"

 

This exhaustive examination of an obscure short story produced in most of his students a deep desire to bang heads against the brick walls of the class building.  The teacher’s motivation for such in-depth study of the story was lost on his students.

 

But the reason became clear to me a couple of years later when I learned that this instructor had written a thesis on The Garden of the Forking Paths by Jorge Luis Borges.  So we, his students, were unwitting and unpaid research assistants in his pursuit of a doctorate.

 

When I realized how the instructor had subtly coerced students to assist in his research while pretending to teach, I was outraged.  I felt disillusioned, cheated, even used.

 

He used his position for personal gain.  And the world seems to be sadly full of people like that today. What do you think?

Can you hear me now?

Remember those Verizon wireless commercials in which an employee is shown in unusual places trying to get good cellular service - in a tree or on a rooftop, always asking, “Can you hear me now?”

This commercial seems sadly symbolic of communication in our modern culture.  We have never had so many forms of communication available to us, and yet personal communication has never been more endangered.  Can anyone hear me, we wonder.

Email, texting, social media networks, cell phones, twitter... the list of communication tools is endless in today’s world.  We have more ways of being in contact than ever before but many people are starving for meaningful connection with others. 

A handwritten note or letter could be treasured for years, but letter writing is a dying art.  Conversation has been replaced by short messages sent electronically, and texting, with its own abbreviated language, is the preferred mode of communication for most young people.  Brevity, convenience, and speed are valued more than personal contact.

To know and be known is a basic desire of all human beings.  Does the distant, impersonal nature of modern communications meet that need?   

          While we may use and enjoy many forms of current technology to   communicate, we long for a more intimate link with the people around us. Feeling understood, validated, and valued come through human touch, honest conversation, eye contact.  There is no electronic substitute for these.      

          Communicate.  Listen.  Reach out and touch another life.  You will be touched and changed, too.    

Safe!

          In baseball, when a runner reaches base without being tagged, the umpire signals and yells, “Safe!”  This seems to be strangely symbolic of my adult life.

I wonder when I began to value safety more than risk-taking?

          I used to love the Tilt-a-Whirl and riding my bike downhill with no hands, the wind tearing at my hair.   I was a wild child who once “ran away” from home through the town drainage ditches and culverts, while my family searched frantically, making it all the way to the other side of town before a good Samaritan returned me home.

My younger brother and I, accompanied by our usual cohorts, spent entire days “exploring” creek beds, and no one knew where we were.  We were fearless… unafraid of snakes, drowning, or danger.

We were daredevils who played chicken at night by lying down on the center line of the highway in front of our house, a risky venture considering it was a main thoroughfare with a dangerous curve blocking view just beyond our house.   

We swam in rain-swollen drainage ditches, climbed trees, slid down tin roofs, and shared grand adventures.  The town and surrounding area were our frontier, and we were daring explorers who knew no fear. 

I envisioned myself exploring Egyptian pyramids, solving mysteries like Trixie Belden, or becoming a spy like the Girl from U.N.C.L.E. 

When I look back on the child I was, I wonder how I became the adult I am.  Was it growing up? Becoming a parent?  Experiencing the inevitable failures and disappointments life brings?

Or is it growing old, trading the thrill of the dare and the lure of the unknown for safety and security?

          Vance Havner said: “Many people are in a rut and a rut is nothing but a grave - with both ends kicked out.”

I need to kick out the ends of my rut and see where the adventure leads.

Halfhearted or Lukewarm

            I have pondered these two words for several weeks since they popped up in my reading.  The quote that started it all was this: “Halfhearted efforts produce mediocre results.”(*)

            What a simple and yet profound statement.  How often has my own effort been halfhearted and yet I expected, or hoped for, good results.  While this is certainly not a novel concept, it is one that had an impact on me.  It was one of those “aha” moments when I gained insight into my own nature as well as human nature in general.

On a much larger scale, this attitude appears to pervade much of modern society.  We are content to just get by, putting forth the minimum effort required but hoping for the maximum reward.  We want success but don’t really want to invest the work, discipline, or time necessary to achieve it.  We applaud overnight sensations, easy money, and instant gratification. 

Our society seems to value the acquisition of power, money or fame even more when it is attained with less effort.  In fact, the person who finds a way to make a quick buck or reach star status without “paying dues” is often perceived to be smarter than the one who worked hard.  Climbing the ladder to success without really exerting oneself is a no brainer in today’s world.

This makes me wonder how values like character, integrity, determination, and hard work are perceived by most people today.  Is the student who studies diligently seen as less savvy than the one who makes the same grade by cheating?  What about those who have attained incredible business success but dropped out of high school or college.  We celebrate shortcuts, get rich quick schemes, and lottery winners. 

What does this say about our society, our world?  I fear where it leads.  And I am challenged to be wholehearted and committed, to give my best and pursue excellence – not mediocrity.

 “So because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold - I am about to spit you out of my mouth.” Revelation 3:16

 * Quote from Made to Crave by Lysa Terkeurst