Confession Time, again. Mercy

Well, here I go again. I know I’ve written confessions before, and here’s another. It’s likely a humble brag, too. Sorry about that.

I know I’ve written about planning for unplanned things (see my last post about the Secret to my Success). Sometimes someone just needs transportation. Be it Baltimore, or Michigan, or just to Lancaster, PA, if I can, I will. I smilingly refer to that as an “Errand of Mercy.”

The term I use is one I got from a Star Trek episode (season 1, episode 26) where they (Captain Kirk, et al.) go to rescue a planet that really didn’t need to be rescued. But they don’t know that. They THINK they are playing savior to people who just don’t understand how much trouble they are in. No spoiler alert here, this episode was from the mid 1960’s.

Anyway, here’s the confession. Of all the episodes I’ve seen (and can usually quote), this particular one, is one I don’t think I’ve ever watched all the way through. I remember (back in the shag carpet and no remote days of the 1970’s) once getting called away during a commercial to immediately do a chore I’d neglected (I don’t remember now if it was hauling out ringer washer water buckets, or burning the paper trash that we didn’t have garbage collectors to take, since we lived “out in the boonies”), but I do remember rushing back to notice I’d missed at least a part of the episode resuming after the commercial(s) tried to pay for the broadcast.

Anyway, I was watching it last night. MeTV airs episodes in order on Saturday nights at 11 pm, eastern time. I nestled in once again with hopes to see it in its entirety. But alas, I must confess, I dozed off. I woke at 4 am with the TV having gone dim from timing out after no volume or channel adjustments in a couple hours. I knew my coffee pot timer would kick in after a couple more hours, so I wouldn’t miss early church, but I sadly toddled off to bed knowing that I, once again, had missed another opportunity to complete a task I thought was important.

I wish all my mess ups were such trivial things. Unfortunately, I’m too proud to write about THOSE things.

A Secret to My Success

I listen to sermons. One such sermon, years ago, by a guest speaker, has revolutionized my life in a way. So let me share with you, with hope it can affect yours, too.

The speaker was a young-looking elder at the E-Free church that was selected because of its’ popularity among homeschoolers in the area. I was involved in many areas of ministry there over the years. Anyway, the speaker was Corey Mitchell, and he shared a life lesson that I’ve integrated into my own life.

Here it is, in a nutshell… since we tend to overschedule, we often have a desire to be used by God, but we have no ability. Our lives are too full. His advice was to schedule “flex time” regularly into each week. This flex time is really flexibility to be open to whatever God may send your way. Here’s how it works – God knows when I’m flexible. A person needing my advice/talent/expertise goes to God with their need, and He directs them to me. Sounds spooky, perhaps, but I’ve seen this work countless times over the years. I’m no longer surprised by these requests. In fact, I tended to smile inside when getting a request that lined up exactly with my “flex time,” so I could say “Yes” immediately. The incredulous look on the face of the one asking sometimes caused that inner smile to break out visibly. I’ll tell you, there’s NOTHING as exciting as being used by God in a way only He could arrange.

Of late, over the last couple years after a disability diagnosis, I have much more “flex time.” And these opportunities abound. I like to smile. I love to see God at work.

Accustomed

A story I heard awhile back kinda changed my life. Maybe it can change yours, too.

The story goes…

It was in early America. Horseback was the way to travel. That, or by foot. A man approached the riverbank, needing to cross the river. He saw three men on horseback, looking for a place to safely ford the river. He approached one, and asked if he could also ride the horse across. The man on horseback, smiled, shifted forward, and allowed the man to swing up behind him.

They crossed the river, the man thanked the rider, swung down, and began walking away. The other two men quietly conferred and followed him, catching up quickly. They asked him, “Why did you ask President Jefferson for a ride across the river?” The man, surprised at his own boldness, confessed that he didn’t know it was the President. When pressed as to why he asked the President, rather than either of them, the man replied, “He had a face that appeared to be accustomed to saying ‘Yes,’ while you two did not.”

It was a story (actually, a sermon illustration) that I took to heart. You see, I’ve met people who, when asked, seem to race for reasons to say “No.” If they can’t find one, they’ll conjure one. I don’t want to be like that.

Confession time.

Facebook memories. Here’s the confession.

I’ve been on FB for quite awhile. I’ve certainly posted my share of whimsy, but also inspirational, challenging, and/or thought provoking posts. I also post plain old activities, just to let folks back home know I’m still alive and active.

I admit I also get frustrated when I see a post with comments, but when I look, I only see some of them, due to being blocked by commenters. I feel like a chunk of my life is missing.

But lately (over the last 2 years or so), I’ve been deleting some old posts. Specific ones. Ones I’m embarrassed to admit. Hence the confession. Several years back, I made them all private, so no one would see them but me. But I’ve been deleting them. I don’t want to even see them anymore. They were worthless pleas for help in worthless FB games.

I never did FarmVille, but I did do a couple others (Cafe World and Hidden Chronicles), mostly to kill time and distract myself from a lousy marriage experience. Thinking now, it probably didn’t enhance that experience, but I was desperate for the dopamine that leveling up and goofy task completion would bring. And I made them public.

They were restricted to a specific span of time, as I’ve moved on from such things. I prefer the dopamine hit from Significance Paradox (feel free to look it up) situations now.

Anyway, I apologize for being so needy back then. I’m trying to do better. Be more intentional.

The Mystery

Tonight at my home group Bible Study, we got into Ephesians 3. In that chapter, Paul wrote of the mystery of Christianity. It was hinted at in the Old Testament, but he was honored to help unwrap this gift to the world at the proper time. Prior to Christ’s appearance, the concept of Jews and Gentiles having any semblance of unity would have been insane, indeed. But now, their diverse backgrounds, joined together in a brand new faith, created an intriguing group that defied “normal” to both groups.

I was excited to share this with the group.

Along a somewhat unrelated theme of mystery, I have one that took me a year and a half to even discover.

I have a bookshelf in my room that I do not recognize.

The bookshelf I HAD was all pine, with thick pieces and a honey gold stain finish. It was in the basement at the old house, filled with books I loved, as well as a few other things that I wanted to keep. I gave away many books when I was preparing to move. But the shelf was sturdy and well-loved, so I wanted to bring it to my new cottage. But this isn’t that bookshelf. I know I had no bookshelf like this at the old house. Yet, here it is.

I’m not complaining. It works. Probably better than the one I’d expect to have, but still… what happened?!?

I’m ok. I still sleep at night, just a few feet away. I’ve been here a year and a half, and I only just recently realized the swap somehow.

A Christmas Story

Can I tell you a Christmas story?

When I was 10, I had the strangest Christmas ever. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, my brothers and sister were very clear about what they wanted. I smiled and was quiet (that in itself made for a strange Christmas!).

As the days passed from Thanksgiving into December, my parents hinted at a letter to Santa. I shrugged and wrote to him about his elves and reindeer, and thanking him for the pocket knife I got from him last year. But I closed the letter with no requests for this year.

My older brother asked me outright. I just smiled and said, “I don’t know, whatever.” Dad tucked me into bed that night, some thing he never did. He also asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I told him I hadn’t thought about it, and none of the commercials on TV made me wish for anything… so I decided I’d just be happy with whatever I got.

After school the next day, mom offered me some fresh, warm cookies, then, she, too, asked if I decided on what I wanted. I told her I didn’t really care, anything would be fine with me.

On Christmas Eve, I had a horrible thought. What if I got just socks? Or worse yet, what if I got nothing at all? But I told myself, don’t worry. Have I EVER been disappointed at Christmas?

I wasn’t. Even now all the gifts I got over the years are hard to remember, and that year I don’t remember them all, but I do know this: my surprise was so much fuller, so much greater when I had no idea what was coming.

I tell you all of this to make a point. I still had hope. Hope in a happy Christmas, hope in a loving family. Even today I live with hope.

But my hope isn’t just about this life. It isn’t even really just hope in eternal life, it’s much stronger than that.

“If we have hope in Christ for this life only, then we are more miserable than all men. But now Christ has risen again from the dead, as the first-fruits of those who sleep.”
‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭15‬:‭19‬-‭20‬

The word HOPE is a Greek word – elpizo (pronounced el PID zoh) which isn’t like our hoping or wishing some thing is true. It means to expect or trust. If all we have is this life, we are a pitiful bunch, aren’t we?

But, in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead! We don’t have just hope or wishes, we have an expectation, some thing (or someONE) worth trusting in.

But what are firstfruits?

Literally, it means the beginning of sacrifice. It means the first of the crop is ready and that’s what is to be given to God first. That is Jesus himself, the first fruits of those who have died. He died and rose again, and was the first to be raised to eternal life. The fact that he went first means that we can (and WILL) too!

I share this Christmas story because I was reminded of it when the host of our Christmas party tonight asked (as a conversation starter) if there was a memorable Christmas moment we’d like to share. I didn’t share then, for I wanted to listen. But I’ll share this now, so those who want to hear it can, and those who do not can keep scrolling. I don’t want to demand attention. I get enough with jokes and such.

May you experience hope and joy this Christmas season. Better yet, I’d wish you could share it with others.

My father taught me

I can’t even remember just when. I know I went to him for advice when I was a freshman at the local university (UW-Platteville) when I took a course in public speaking. His brilliance with people astounded me. Everyone who ever met him loved him. I wish I were more like that.

But one thing he’d taught me has served me well over the decades, and I thought I’d relate that to whoever will listen.

Lesson: No one can convince me of something better than myself. I don’t know how many “I tried it and failed, next time will be different” experiences I’ve had. Having the humility to ask someone for life-choice advice is rare. Often it is couched in a conversation where a person is relating a frustration over something, and they just can’t (from their experience or perspective) see the obvious (to you or me, anyway) answer to their quandary.

What dad taught me is to help them realize their own answer. I learned elsewhere, that a smart man can give a good answer, but a wise man can ask great questions. This dovetails right into what I’m working toward here.

When presented with a problem or decision, Dad would begin to rattle off answers or solutions that often (while indeed possible) were implausible, illogical, or just downright outrageous. This gives the hearer the opportunity to begin to rule out those options, and, in keeping with open communication, begin to offer their own thoughts as to better ones. He’d ask questions about their solutions to gauge their earnestness and/or willingness to commit to those solutions, especially if he heard one that he himself would choose.

The hearer would walk away (justly) feeling as if they had solved their own problem. I don’t know about you, but hearing a solution in my own voice is much more convincing than one from another. And the true beauty: even if the other person would select a different answer, it was fine with him. No solution is always worse than a wrong one. And if their solution did work, my dad would learn from them and become wiser in the process.

And the reward is intense. Seeing someone succeed and thrive (knowing you played a small role) causes me to quietly smile. Congratulate them. They deserve the credit, because they did the actual work.

Natural Consequences

I’ve spoken of this before, to people in my real-life circles. But I think the time has come for me to write it down.

In Matthew chapter 18, Jesus shared another parable, but made it personal. Not theoretical, not just spiritual, but He turned to His disciples at the end to drive home His point. It is often called the Parable of the Unforgiving Slave (or servant).

The story goes on about a king (symbolic of God the Father) who called his slave/servant into account for money owed. That set and pleaded for more time, with the promise to repay all, despite the outrageous sum of 10,000 talents (the silver equivalent to 60 million days’ wage). The king forgave the debt. That servant left, with his debt forgiven, and bumped into a fellow servant who owed him a hundred days’ wages, who proceeded to beg for more time with the promise to repay. That original servant, with a hard heart, threw the other servant into debtor’s prison. When the king heard of this, he voided the forgiveness once offered to the first servant, and turned the man over to the tormentors, to torture him until the whole, huge debt was paid in full.

This is when Jesus turned to His disciples and warned them that God would do the exact same thing to them if they refused to forgive. He made it personal.

My point is this: forgive. If you refuse, you’ll be handed over to the tormentors to torment you (right here, right now) until you’ve paid off your own debt. I’m currently seeing some people in torment, and it’s likely because I’ve also seen their unforgiveness toward others. It is the default punishment that God uses on unforgiving people.

Are you feeling tormented? How are your accounts with others? Is there anyone you need to forgive?

Never Saw This Before

So I’m watching How I Met Your Mother again. It’s winding up the finale season, and I still get choked up as the ending approaches. Tonight, I noticed a foreboding (and this show is FILLED with foreshadowing) of a tender moment that brings me tears every time. It’s in Season 9, episode 19, and I don’t want to spill spoilers. But I never before noticed the emotional reaction of the main character, startlingly similar to my own as the series makes its’ story arc, just a few episodes later.

It seems less than 6 weeks since the last time I was here, but I’m still here.

Defining Traits

I’m resistant to even post this, but I’ll try to do so with restraint. I have been on a path of learning by watching a YouTube channel, and recently took in one that I thought I could write about without without being overt in accusations. This is for learning here, not condemnation.

Anyway, I’ll post an edited heading, so as to simply list some traits or patterns of behavior, without naming the diagnosis. I’ve heard that diagnosing someone typically gets projected right back. I don’t want that for anyone.

1. An identity built on chronic insecurity. They are emotionally needy, and often that insecurity is built on a myriad of reasons, but nothing of their own doing.
2. Chronic misuse of anger. Immediate jump to unconstructive outburst or response,
3. Very low level of Empathy. Redefining as irrelevant those who might otherwise benefit from receiving that empathy, or claiming that the need for empathy is on an irrelevant area.
4. Commitment to false superiority. An emphasis on perhaps intangible attributes that often exist on their own say-so.
5. Defensive. A marked unwillingness to accept input, especially if that input is directed toward their own improvement.
6. Live inside of shame. Projecting victimhood of something otherwise shameful, yet having no culpability in having any personal blame in it. Even capable of profiling victimization of imagined offenses toward them.
7. Need for Control is Imperative. Continual direction to another’s shortcomings, and how THEY would have overcome.
8. Unteachable. Dismissive of others’ insights, often by non-verbal means, but also by a simple, “I know” that already.

Credit where credit is due – Dr. Les Carter

Today’s stream Was along the lines of 7 Signs that Worsen as they Age

1. They have given up on love. Marriage, friendships, etc. fail because of the other person. becoming authoritarian and seeking power over those relationships becomes more typical.
2. They Don’t Learn from Broken Experiences. Maintaining that being a misunderstood victim is more common, and a likely outcome of potential new relationships.
3. They never own their shadow-self. There is one there, but it is well hidden and/or denied.
4. They never admit to their own humanity. They project an image, one of an idealized notion of superiority.
5. They like to collect Lackeys. Otherwise known as minions, flying monkeys, or a mini-me, these are similar-minded people (not diverse) who can be used to do their bidding.
6. Rationalize broken relationships. The common theme is that those are always the fault of others. They lie to themselves a lot, allowing them to maintain truth from their own perception.
7. They maintain keeping others in a defensive mode. They accuse easily, despite evidence showing otherwise. They employ guilt and shame to silence critics.

Well. this was difficult. But if it can be of any help, I want that for you. I really do.