Those Noisy Birds

I was looking for quiet on Sunday afternoon.

Wanting to escape the noise of the dishwasher, laundry machine and one of the many football games being broadcast in our living room, I decided to step outside for a moment of silence.

Best laid plans. I don’t know if you’re much of a bird watcher, but you don’t have to be an expert to notice that the birds are certainly on the move these days. It’s migration time. According to one article, thousands of birds will choose a stopover point no bigger than a few hundred square feet to rest during their long journey.

Sunday’s rest stop was in my backyard. The woods just 20 feet behind my house were filled with chatty, busy birds. As if the noisy chorus wasn’t deafening enough, add to it the percussion of walnuts thudding to ground under the weight of the countless birds. My backyard made Lucas Oil Stadium seem like a monastery retreat.

Amid the frenetic chaos, I was struck with a thought. These birds were in complete unity. They seemed to have decided together when, where, and how long to stop during their thousand mile journey. I didn’t notice any of them trying to thwart the plan; they miraculously all seemed to know their purpose and how to go about accomplishing it.

The birds seem to have figured out something so easily forgotten. Unity is important to God.

Ephesians 4:3 says the following:

Always keep yourselves united in the Holy Spirit, and bind yourselves together with peace.

A W Tozer reminds us that this unity is best accomplished as we individually are tuned to God.
"If a hundred pianos were merely tuned to each other, their pitch would not be very accurate. But if they were all tuned to one tuning fork, they would automatically be tuned to each other".

Those birds all seemed to have been in tune with their Creator last Sunday. They worked together, and all went about accomplishing their mighty feat of migrating thousands of miles.

As Shepherds, will you share a time when you experienced the strength and joy of unity when you and others were all in tune with God?

Quiet Please

I haven’t golfed for over 20 years, but this past weekend, if you’ll pardon the pun, I gave it a shot.

Golfing just felt right this Sunday. The weather was perfect and the crowd non-existent. (This may have something to do with the fact that the Colts kicked off right about the time I teed off.)

Walking onto the first fairway, I soon remembered why I love the game. With the green carpet stretching out before me and the blue canopy of sky overhead, I was struck with the peace and quiet. All was still, save the occasional sound of a ball being well hit, or plopping politely if it found the water.

Ironically, not far into the game, I managed to sabotage the afternoon. Thinking I actually knew what I was talking about, I began offering every possible instruction to my family with regard to golf etiquette, the appropriate club choice for each shot, the certainty that the obviously flawed direction of my husband’s feet or placement of my son’s grip would be the ruin of their shot, blah, blah, blah…

Our peaceful, afternoon was shattered by the lecturing of yours truly.

Why is it that I tend to be my own worst enemy when it comes to enjoying quiet? Setting out on a morning walk with every intention of spending time with God, I usually fill most of the quiet with my own voice in prayer requests. Rather than being still before God, I talk, talk, talk, and miss everything I might have learned from Him if I’d only kept quiet.

Ruth Haley Barton, the author of Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership, cautions,
“The discipline of solitude is a key discipline for all those who seek afer God. It is the primary place where the leader’s soul is strengthened.

And A. W. Tozer gets practical…

It is important that we get still to wait on God. And it is best that we get alone, preferably with our Bible outspread before us. Then if we will, we may draw near to God and begin to hear Him speak to us in our hearts. I think for the average person the progression will be something like this: First a sound as of a Presence walking in the garden. Then a voice, more intelligible, but still far from clear. Then the happy moment when the Spirit begins to illuminate the Scriptures, and that which had been only a sound, or at best a voice, now becomes an intelligible word, warm and intimate and clear as the word of a dear friend. Then will come life and light, and best of all, ability to see and rest in and embrace Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord and All.

A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God, the Speaking Voice

Shepherds, will you share with each other the ways you make room for solitude with God in the posts below?

Change

Some deal better than others with change.

I had a college roommate who used to say, “I eat change for breakfast.” I’m not really sure what that means, but if we are keeping with her food metaphor, I see change more as a lima bean, something to be avoided, or at least hidden under a napkin.

Lately I am finding myself overwhelmed by all the change in my life. Because my appetite for change is practically nonexistent, I feel a little paralyzed. Rather than dive in and navigate new adventure headed my way, I’m more prone to shut down and spend my time remembering what life was like, “before.”

Change is a fickle fellow. Sometimes it is wonderful, as it has been with those of you who have had new babies this summer, gotten engaged, moved to a new home or found a new job. Other times it is incredibly difficult; as some of you have experienced these past weeks when you sent a child to a new school, maybe even moved them off to college, or even said goodbye to a precious loved one as God slipped them into eternity.

Looking up this morning as I drove to work gave me a sweet reminder. The perfect day revealed one of the bluest skies I’ve seen. I realized that I was looking at the same blue sky that God stretched out as a curtain way back at creation. It hasn’t gone away. It still expands over the world for every eye to see. Everyday.

And if the work of God’s hands doesn’t change, neither does the Creator Himself.

The following psalm has been a soothing balm to my anxious heart lately as I have been facing change…

Yet I still belong to you; you are holding my right hand.

You will keep on guiding me with your counsel, leading me to a glorious destiny.

Whom have I in heaven but you? I desire you more than anything on earth.

My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; he is mine forever. (Psalm 73:23 – 26 New Living Translation)

Will you share with other Women of Grace Shepherds your best practices for facing the continual change that life brings?

Downhill at 50

Turning 50 a few weeks ago seems to have cost me a few brain cells.

Honestly, I’m quite used to the fact that I am forgetting things…putting the milk in the pantry and cereal in the fridge, dialing up the number of a close friend only to find myself surprised to hear her voice as I’d somehow forgotten who I’d called…

But this past weekend I took this middle-age thing a tad too far. My memory wasn’t the problem, it was my judgment.

Wrapping up a late night of July 3rd, neighborhood, cul-de-sac fireworks, my family headed for home. With a bicycle, Power Wing, lawn chair and fireworks to manage, I magnanimously offered to help by riding the Power Wing home…in the dark…down a decent sized hill, (later to be named “Suicide Valley” by my son).

Power-wing: “cousin to the skateboard, equipped with handle bar and 2 wings designed to increase speed…”

The slow decline was soothing, allowing a gentle breeze to brush my face as I sailed leisurely down the tarmac.

But with little warning, things changed. My speed quickly accelerated, and this gentle slope soon became a death drop, down which I began to hurtle out of control.

I really don’t remember the next painful moments, but Josh assured me it was horrible to witness. “Mom! You did a faceplant double-roll right down the street!”

True that. Whatever I did, that pavement couldn’t have been harder, or my velocity more intense. The right side of my body took the worst of it, including my arm, elbow, wrist, ankle and hip. I haven’t had any X-rays yet, but since the swelling and pain is still refusing to go away, I’m becoming more open to the idea.

My trip down Suicide Valley was the perfect metaphor of how effortlessly I seem to slip into sin. I start slowly enough, so casually that I have little or no idea that I am on a dangerous path. But before I know it, I have accelerated into a downward spiral, finding myself at a point of no return, at least not without a good amount of damage awaiting me.

Listen to what A.W. Tozer says about sin...

Sin, in addition to anything else it may be, is always an act of wrong judgment.
To commit a sin a man must for the moment believe that things are different from
what they really are; he must ignore the signs on the highway and drive with his
eyes shut …
No act is wise that ignores remote consequences, and sin always
does. Sin sees only today, or at most tomorrow; never the day after tomorrow,
next month or next year. A.W. Tozer, The Dwelling Place of God

I won’t be riding any Power Wings in the near future. I’m also hoping I to stay clear of those other dangerous paths which promise excitement, but will eventually end in pain.

Shepherds, what is your best practice to avoid a slippery slope toward sin?

Challenge Baseball

This past Saturday morning was one of my favorite days.

It began with the ugly task of rousing an eleven year old boy out of bed for an early obligation. But after digging through drawers to find the right baseball jersey and stuffing a couple of powder doughnuts down him, Josh began to rally.

This was the morning my son's baseball team had volunteered to come alongside a Challenge Baseball League. Children anywhere from six years old to teenagers, facing challenges from the mildest of autism to the inability to walk, hear or talk, were in need of buddies who would help them play the game. Baseball today wouldn't be about hits, throws, signals or stealing; today the boys a would learn a whole lot more.

While our team looked apprehensive as they met their buddies, in no time they began to engage with their new friends. They played catch, chatted, and even picked clovers alongside them. The most wonderful moments came when each child crossed home plate, followed enthusiastically by their cheering buddy. Hugs came naturally, smiles were genuine, and high fives were a given.

I loved the impact Saturday morning had on my son. And me. Just like the Grinch, I'm pretty sure our hearts grew a few sizes that day.

And while the enthusiasm of the Challenge Team players was precious, and the helpful hearts of our boys more than touching, it was the parents of the special needs children who stole my heart.

As we walked back to our cars to return to our careless, easy Saturdays, I realized that these parents didn't have the same type of day ahead of them. Years earlier, they had come to the understanding that every one of their days would be filled with hard work, endless patience, and a depth of love that has understood the sacrificial love to which Christ has called all of us.

On a much smaller scale, Shepherding can require the same steadfastness and sacrifice. Year after year, we find ourselves serving...sometimes seeing the fruit of our labor, sometimes not so much. But we keep going.

And once in awhile, just like our boys last Saturday, we get a small glimpse of why we do what we do.

Shepherds, please share with each other what it is that helps keep you going,
serving, and running the race as you serve God and the Women of
Grace.

the waiting room...

I saw something in the doctor’s office yesterday that hurt my heart.

It was late in the afternoon, the physician’s schedules had backed up, and the waiting room was full of tired, slightly impatient patients.

I noticed a man enter the door in a motorized wheelchair, somewhat frenzied, as if he might be running late. He hurried up to the front desk, pulled out an assortment of papers, phones, pens, etc., and worked hard to give the receptionist what she had asked for.

In his haste, he dropped something that landed beneath his wheelchair. Though I was seated a distance away, I could see him struggling to reach it. Exerting more effort than would be required of those without a disability, I could sense his fretfulness and exhaustion.

The part of the scene that struck me most than was the apathy of those who observed him. Not one person seated anywhere near him moved to offer help. They simply stayed in their chairs, continued to flip through their magazines, or awkwardly looked away.

I think I found this so unsettling because I am just not used to seeing people respond like those folks in the waiting room. I’m used to you. Busy women, with more than enough on your plates, yet you don’t hesitate to offer meals, hugs, childcare, prayer, phone calls, cards, smiles, and so much more, to anyone God puts in your path.

Knowing and watching you is such a privilege, because you love the way Christ designed His church to love.

As I reached down to hand the man the phone he had dropped, I noticed his face. I wish he hadn’t looked so surprised. I wish the rest of the world understood what you understand...

"The world would be a changed place if every Christian attended to the sorrows
that are plain before him." (Maclaren)

Shepherds, would you share with each other ways you have watched your groups come alongside one another this year?

In somewhat of a last minute decision, my husband, 11 year old son and I took a road trip to Colorado last week to ski for a few days.

The sky was glorious, the weather perfect, and skiing more than wonderful. All in all, it was a real treat, and a memory we will always enjoy.

The downside, if there was one, would have to have been the drive. To save on gas, we took the small car, and loaded it with three not-so-small people, skis, ski boots, luggage, computers, and a television.

Ever the optimist, my husband assured me the trip was only 16 hours, and as he put it, “a piece of cake!”

I don’t know what Steve has against cake, but a 20 hour drive, (yep, we did it straight through), complete with a 5th grade boy with occasional intestinal issues, rotting egg McMuffins tucked between the seats, and nothing but miles and miles and miles of Kansas prairies to entertain us felt more like liver and onions to me.

Funny though, once we arrived home, the monotony of the road trip all but faded away. Getting to see my college kid, celebrating a beautiful Easter and reconnecting with the neighbors made the long drive nothing but a quickly fading memory.

That long trek on I70 reminds me a bit of our lives here on earth. On Easter , Dave Rod did a great job reminding us of an incredible HOPE that awaits us, but sometimes the day to day journey feels long, uncertain, and tedious.

Sarah Groves said it well in her song, “Hope”.

You do your work the best that you can you put one foot in front of the other
life comes in waves and makes its demands you hold on as well as you're
able…

As Shepherds, the road may be feeling a bit long for you right now. We are close to the finish line, but we have been at it awhile. It is nice to be reminded that we are all heading in the same direction, and for the same purpose.

As Paul told the Corinthians…

So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and steady, always enthusiastic
about the Lord's work, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever
useless. 1 Corinthians 15:58

More than anything, my hope is that you know your efforts this year have been useful, fruitful, and eternal.

Take a minute to share below with the other Shepherds ways this year's
journey may have felt hopeful and fruitful to you...