Don't Bank on Your Bank!

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also”.  Matt. 6:19-21

Several years ago, while still working for Head Start, my husband, daughter and I traveled to Orlando.  Unlike many people who travel to Orlando, our destination was NOT Disney World.  In fact, Jessica had to wait a few more years before she had the opportunity to visit the “Magic Kingdom”.  Instead, we were attending the National Head Start Association convention.  I was to receive an award for the NHSA Disabilities Coordinator of the year. It was a big deal, I suppose, to receive that award, but deep in my heart I believed that the only reason I received the award was due to a lack of competition.  Whether that’s true or just my own insecurity tapes playing in my mind, I’ll never know.  Anyway, I do have a nice looking award that looked nice near my desk at the time.  And to be honest, my ego was stroked for a short time.

Anyway, it was while shopping in Orlando that I found today’s feature elephant.  Just looking at it brought out that “inner child” – the playful side of me. This elephant is also a bank, but that’s not why I chose it. Hand-painted blue polka-dots, yellow toenails, bashful smile and whimsical eyes, all against the bright lime green spoke out to me, “buy me, buy me.”

Though I didn’t purchase it for its function, the bank provides a useful metaphor for the treasure in my life.  I’ve been pondering this idea of what I treasure since Sunday.  Our adult class at church has been viewing a video series by Dallas Willard. Last week's discussion covered the role our “treasure”—what we value most—plays in our lives.

Like most everyone in our Western culture, I have found—and continue to find—pleasure in such things as awards, accomplishments or material things (new furniture, appliances, clothing, etc.)  Unfortunately those treasures don’t last.  The award was great at the time (despite my self-doubt) but now it’s sitting in a closet!!  It’s not likely that I’ll be able to sell it at a garage sale or give it to a thrift shop.  New clothes can lift my spirits but will be out of style before too long. 

Banks are places where we keep another treasure—money. People value money for different reasons but all value it for what they are able to get for it: prestige, material things, experiences or basic necessities.  Too many people, unfortunately, spend their entire lives attempting to get enough money just for the necessities.  Forget about the new car or trip to Europe!  To be honest, more money can give a person more opportunity, higher quality of life; relieve the anxiety of making ends meet.  But none of that (money, or what we buy with money) will follow us to the grave.

And I have to remind myself of this daily. God’s grace is not for sell.  No amount of money will buy God’s grace.  But the heartening thing is that we all have equal access.  No Affirmative Action plan required.  God took care of that over 2000 years ago.

I can save my pennies in this little bank; I could save hundred dollar bills in it, too.  But none of that would get me one day closer to heaven than I am already.  There’s a lot of comfort in knowing that I don’t have to earn a single award, win a blue ribbon, have the largest house on the block, or even be a pastor!  It doesn’t matter.  What matters is that my heart can house the greatest treasure of all.  Grace.

What’s in your wallet?  Probably money, or credit cards.  What’s in your heart?  Treasured Grace, I hope.

Arrrrrgh! For the second week in a row, something has happened with my "elephant" post!  They are disappearing somewhere into cyber space!!!  If I have time tomorrow, I will try to recover what I thought I had posted.  In the meantime....

Peace in the Pieces!

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.  Psalm 147

Perhaps there is something in "Friday the 13th!" But today is Saturday the 14th, and surely my post will work today!

While most of the elephants in my collection are just “objets d’art”, some of them have actual functions.  The doorstop I commented on a couple of weeks ago is one example.  But I also have teapots, a cookie jar, mugs, an oven mitt, a planter and a kite among others.  Two of my elephants act as toothpick holders! 

If you look very carefully at the photo of the one on the right, you will notice cracks – yes, this elephant has been broken! Though broken, it was saved.  With a lot of my husband’s patience, and a little bit of superglue, the fragments were pieced together once again to make it whole; not perfect, but whole.

What a great metaphor for how God works with our brokenness.  Just as the pieces of my elephant were put back together – God does the same with us…daily!  My elephant toothpick holder can still hold toothpicks but it bears the “scars” of its mishap.  It is no longer perfect; but one could say it wasn’t perfect to begin with or it would never have broken!  Whatever! Certainly each of us was born imperfect, but God’s vision for each of perfection. And we break…daily.  And faithfully, if we submit, God pieces each of together, time after time. We bear the imperfections of our cracks sometimes gracefully, mostly not.  I guess that’s the point of repentance.  God continues to bring wholeness in our lives.  Perfection? No, perfection is the attribute of only Christ.  But we can look forward to the perfection promised us in eternity.

In the meantime, we face each day, broken yet whole in Christ, the “glue” that holds us together in spite of the cracks!

Trust and Obey, For There's No Other Way

I’ve gotten negligent about my daily writing.  Other things have taken precedent, and it should not be so—for what is a mere 30 minutes a day?  Now, for the past few days it has been chilly, cloudy and my acedia was back in full force yesterday. ¹ And frankly, I was in a grumpy mood. 

So this morning I made a commitment to get started once again with my daily writing.  I’m not fooling myself into thinking that anything will come of this writing in the productive sense that our culture values so highly (read “published!”)  But what I have learned about my writing is this:  I am more alive with it, as it creates spiritual meaning to my life--a  connection to God.  Marilynne Robinson so clearly states what is true for her (and me, as well) is that, “writing consists very largely of exploring intuition.” ²  It is this exploring, this attending to intuition which gives way to the spiritual, "personal" communication from the Holy Spirit about what my life on this earth should be about.

I’ve often wondered if I am afflicted with that popular “disorder” of children these days--Attention Deficit Disorder.  When acedia sets in, I have trouble focusing; too many thoughts and obsessions take over; I flit from task to task, never fully concentrating on the one at hand.  I am easily distracted, and nothing “sits still” in my heart.  Even my centering prayer—a time of surrender and focus—becomes nothing more than a hotbed of racing thoughts, always those worrisome aspects of my life.  I seem to hold on to those as tightly as I can; that’s when the surrendering in centering prayer is most important, but also most difficult.

“Trust and obey, for there’s no other way” as the familiar hymn states is all about surrender. None of those wordly concerns that eat at me, matter when compared to the singular, simple life that Jesus walked while on this earth.  His only concern was to trust and obey His Heavenly Father.  He did so that we might know how to live.  Lord, I am so, so far from that.  Help me surrender to your grace, help me trust and obey.

¹ acedia is defined as: 1) spiritual or mental sloth; 2. Apathy; a lack of care or interest; indifference; 3) boredom  (en.wiktionary.org) 

²When I Was a Child, I Read Books: essays, Marilynne Robinson, 2012

Okay, here’s a quirky poem I wrote awhile back which speaks somewhat to the ongoing daily surrender that must take place.

Grace as in a Nursery Rhyme

Once there was a woman.

(Not that old one who lived

in the shoe!)  But an everyday, ordinary

woman, who--not being a part

of any nursery rhyme, news story, novel,

or poem, but this one--fell many times,

(perhaps not tumbling down a hill like Jill)

but tumbling all the same.

After each fall, she stood up

and began again, newly formed

from the scattered pieces of each fall. 

(Not like Humpty Dumpty whose fragments

still adorn the foot of his famous wall.)

If this isn’t grace,

then tell me,

how do you get out of bed each morning?

Random or Intentional?

 

Last Friday, since we were on our way back from San Antonio, I did not post any elephant on this blog. Tomorrow – also a Friday -- we will be in Lawrence to see our daughter.  So I’m going to post this week’s elephant(s) today. 

Today, I am doing something a little different as I will commenting on a group of elephants who have one feature in common:  their miniature size. These elephants sometimes get ignored in my collection, being overpowered by so many other larger, more unusual pachyderms.  For sometime, I have believed they are more noticed by any guests, or children, because I had them grouped together in the front of others in my collection.  This morning I was looking at each one very carefully, and realized that I had never really paid attention to the distinct features of each elephant.  I had only attended to their common characteristic – their tiny size. 

Sometimes we get “lost in the group”…we lose our identity…who each of us is in God’s sight.  The unique gifts with which God endowed each of us get enmeshed in the group identify which quite often becomes the voice of those who are loudest among us.

Jesus said “blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”  (Matt. 5:5) In our Western culture bigger is better. But here’s the rub: nothing is ever quite big enough.   So if we can’t be “big” by ourselves, we join a group that implies “bigness” – and lose our individual voice.

I believe there is a place for the “group”, particularly within the Church – the universal Church -- as believers come together as the body of Christ.  God does great things with the “body” if it is listening, collectively.  But that’s a “whole other topic”.

Here’s what I’m really getting to: truly few of us are called to do great things.  Most of us are rather called to do small things, but within the great power of God.  In this light, what is too small a matter that it no longer concerns God? And what tiny gift do I have to offer someone in the name of Christ?

These tiny elephants are each unique, and their small size and exclusiveness remind me of how important small things can be in one’s live.  Tiny things such as a smile or kind word may make someone else’s really rotten day, salvageable.  We hear the saying “pay it forward” and if we honor that in our daily living, we know that whatever we do, no matter how small, may have enormous consequences to the lives of others, to the future.

To me, the second of the great commandments, “Love your neighbor as yourself”  (Matthew 12: 31) is nothing more than living moment by moment, practicing love and kindness.  Random acts of kindness are fine, but I believe we come closer to God’s purpose to us when we engage in intentional acts of kindness in the only the manner that each of us with our uniqueness can do.

Today, I will practice small acts of kindness, not randomly, but with intention and appreciate the power of each act to make a difference to someone else.  And that may be as close to “inheriting the earth” as I need to get!

Holy Week

I apologize for my lack of an elephant last Friday!  Spent last week in San Antonio, and wrapped it up with a wonderful visit with my parents in Oklahoma, on our way back.  The weather here is dreary; a good time to write.  It's time for me to get back into this blog! 

This is Holy Week, a time for Christians to reflect and consider that selfless, divine act of Jesus over two thousand years ago.  Lately, I’ve been contemplating the nature of the many names and portraits of Jesus in Scripture.   And by doing so, I was reminded of a poem I wrote a few years back using different names by which we know Jesus.

Here it is, certainly very unfinished.  It is my “prayer in progress” as I am still dissatisfied with it.  I imagine I might revisit it every year during Holy Week, and continue to improve it as the Holy Spirit sees fit.

Holy Week

King of Kings,

We worshipped you, the palms

Swaying, our voices sing,

How swiftly we forget.

Oh, Bread of Life,

We chewed you up

then spit you out

and still, we are forgiven.

Prince of Peace,

We pierced your feet,

yet you washed ours

and prayed for us.

We were asleep.

Living Water,

Photos of our church's stained glass windows by Steven Chen

You filled our cups.

As was our way, we drank it up

until we choked and turned our backs.

The rooster crowed.

Lamb of God,

we shed your blood.

A cross, the altar.

The Lamb has died,

The Shepherd lives!

Light of the World,

we snuffed your flame

and all was dark as oblivion.

But wait! The blind now see,

The Light is free!

Son of Man (and Woman, too)

The stone is rolled, the tomb is bare.

You lift up all humanity

from division to divinity

and we are healed, 

whole and Holy.