Flashing Lights, Blaring Music, And A Cosmic Queue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a gym class like I've never seen before.  The fourth graders were learning how to bowl in the elementary school's gymnasium. Along one wall, pins were lined up in triangles.  The designated bowlers stood on the other side of the gym in line with the bowling pins.  Without any equipment other than heavy rubber balls, bowling alleys were imagined.  There were about 12 "alleys" differentiated only by the four or five children assigned to each.  

 It was not just bowling class, but Cosmic Bowling. To make it more fun, the cold harsh florescent lights of the gym were dimmed, colorful blinking lights were strung up along each side, and the music was upbeat and loud, just like nine and ten year olds would clamor for.

That many children, flashing lights, and blasting music sounds like chaos.  But it wasn't.  The kids were not just learning how to bowl, but about place.  I saw no squabbling.  No shouts of "My turn.  Me first." No shaming for balls rolled astray. No division between the cool kids and not.  

Because each child had an assignment and a spot to take care of. They all had a job to do. They moved from one role to the next in a pattern.  One at a time, they took a turn as the bowler.  The next child was the ball returner, standing on the sideline to return the ball to the starting line. One or two kids at the end of the alley were the pin setters, removing and setting the bowling pins in order and ready for the next roll.  When one bowler was finished, they moved to the next spot in the lineup.  And continued to switch places throughout the class. A place for everyone. Everyone in their place.

The last station was perhaps the most important place of all.  The waiter stood opposite the returner on the side of the alley. That kid watched what was going on and cheered for the bowler when multiple pins were knocked down.  It was not the waiter's turn yet.  But he was still a significant part of the action.  He or she did not just wait with a bad attitude, complain, or push someone out of the way. The waiters balanced out the rotation.  As long as everyone did their part, bowling in the dark with 60 kids was fun for everyone.

And then, it was time for the waiter to bowl.

Waiting is not a passive verb.  It is not just a weary place of transition, grumbling about others, but doing the waiting well. Things may not yet be ready.  And indeed, we may not yet be ready for what we need to do or for what is next. But we can cheer on those who get a proverbial strike and encourage those with wayward curve balls to try again.

And quite frankly in life, it may be someone else's turn to bowl.  Someday may seem a long time coming.  But waiting prepares and equips us. It's part of the practice. We can wait, or we can waste. We may actually learn something in the waiting room.  Imagine that! We have work to do too, or we can waste a whole lot of time whining about it. Selfish claims in a loud voice, Mine!  Selfless sees other people in the picture.  Selfish demands it now!  Selfless has all of eternity. 

This half-hour gym activity on a rainy Friday morning encompassed a whole lot more than having fun and learning to bowl, but also seeing how all the people and places work together. Not commiserating that I am just a waiter, nor a waster of time.  But realizing it's just not my turn yet. 

Maybe I'm meant to be a waiter right now.  Maybe because I need to.  Or because someone else needs me to be.    This is my place right now to support and encourage and to occupy this time and space and circumstances.  To be a waiter. And that changes the game for everyone. 

Waiting knows its place and is confident that the right time is coming.  And realizing God knows what He is doing.  That's what faithfulness does.  

Blessed is the one who listens to Me, watching daily at My gates, waiting beside My doors. Proverbs 8. 34 

Ready to roll. 

 

 

 

The multiplying effect

Several years ago when one of our granddaughters was learning her multiplication tables, she initially just memorized the facts.  She could rattle off the answers without even thinking about it. But then one day while working out a story problem, a proverbial galaxy exploded into view.  I saw it in her eyes.  She was sitting at our kitchen table, completing her homework.  Ohhhh, she exclaimed.  She no longer looked at a theoretical one-dimensional 7x4 scribbled on her worksheet, but seven groups of four.  She suddenly saw friends sitting in rows in her classroom and spoonfuls of cookie dough lined up on the baking sheet.  Seven groups of four.

Math made sense in real life, imagine that.  And it opened up to her a whole new world of possibilities.  Not just applicable to that particular story problem, but learning what multiplication really means. It is not just a faster way to add, a tool that enlarges, but it connects us to something much bigger.  Math is not just based on homework equations, but the way the universe works.  Not a list of numbers, but a solid thread. And she hasn't even gotten to God's AP calculus or applied physics yet.  

Like kids reciting the multiplication tables, we often approach big spiritual concepts --like grace, love and prayer --with the same limited understanding as a kid in grade school, nice in theory, and we can rattle off scripted answers by rote we heard or read somewhere. We possess a vague and rather limited view. 

And then, because we don't really comprehend, we act like scrooges, as if what is precious --like kindness, grace, and love-- will run out.  Or even that praying is restricted to limited dosages. Someone said to me a couple weeks ago, "God's tired of hearing from me."  Never true. 

Too many of us are stuck in first grade addition.  But in practicing these things, seeing them differently, and being generous with them, God multiplies.

We learn to see grace, love and prayer not as theological constructs, but how they work out in actual life with tangible situations and real people. Obeying, following, responding to God's calling, even in this particular day, form something in us -- in ways we are not even aware. We have only to be faithful even in simple tasks that are never insignificant. One act of grace, one nudge to pray, or to be kind in this moment builds upon the next, multiplied beyond our comprehension into eternity.  

We don't run out.  We find God gives us even more. Learn to lavish the grace of God on others ...and His blessing will come through you all the time. (Oswald Chambers)

Our response to God's nudging equips and trains us for the next equation and every good endeavor.

And God is able to make all grace abound to you,

so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times,

you may abound in every good work....

He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food

will supply and multiply your seed for sowing

and increase the harvest of your righteousness.

You will be enriched in every way

      to be generous in every way.....

                          2 Corinthians 9. 8-11

The key words here are supply and multiply. 

His mercies never come to an end. Lamentations 3.22  Flowing into us, flowing through us, no drought here, no expiration date, in short supply or limited availability.

This is no ordinary day --really none of them are-- but an opportunity to practice and allow grace to multiply in our lives.  We see God differently. And as a result, we see others differently. We are not given a brand new pair of eyeglasses, but a new heart and deeper vision for how we can respond.

For from His fullness we have all received,

                 grace upon grace.

                                      John 1. 16

How much more would we be loving, gracious, prayerful,

             if we knew we would never run out,

           and if indeed it would be multiplied,

                                    not diminished in any way?

God does not just add.  God multiplies.

A Liturgy For Those Who Are Wandering

We all know someone in this season of life who is wandering away from the faith, or roaming within it, distracted by other loves, struggling with circumstances, encumbered by baggage, or well you know, just too busy to bother with God anymore.  But this is not the time for us to abandon ship. We need not stand by the ship's railings helpless without a life preserver to throw out to them. We can care for them as best as we are able. And we can pray for them all we can, even when we feel like we cannot breathe.  

Praying something far deeper than, "O God, be with them."  

The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.  James 5. 16  

Praying that every verse of Scripture they've ever read or memorized will come to mind.  From every worship service ever attended, even boring sermons they've endured, the indelible hope of Jesus is even now engraved in their souls.  Let every song, lyric and tune they've sung or hummed burst out of the shadowy silence, replaying in a continual loop over and over, the notes, rhythm and words, stirring their emotions, as only music can do, always there just below the surface, never forgotten, no hearing loss here, but an audible presence.

Praying that God stirs up every testimony heard even decades ago of lives transformed by the gospel.  May every missionary slide show still be recalled in vivid color, reminding them of God's faithfulness around the world. Praying that they remember all those times when the Spirit woke them in the middle of the night and sat with them in their desperate situations. May they yet taste the fellowship of every potluck tuna noodle casserole and jello salad in church basements with shiny linoleum floors and stacked folding chairs. Let every spiritual conversation around the table resound, casual words in the car, on a walk, or shopping in Walmart, remembered forever. They may forget our words, but let them hear the voice of the Almighty.

Praying they are continually surrounded by every prayer earnestly prayed for them, a parent, sibling, friend or grandparent faithfully on their knees pushing back the darkness.  That every Scripture verse claimed for them holds them firmly in the power of God's Word, their names inscribed in the margins with indelible ink.  May we ourselves never underestimate the power of God's Word which is neither bound nor forgettable. 

Praying they are incredibly aware of the love and words of Sunday School teachers who loved them, youth leaders who guided them, nursery workers faithfully rocking, church friends coming alongside, cabin mates at camp sharing stories, even strangers generous with kind words.  Let even a glimpse of a spectacular sunset stir up awe in their hearts for the Creator. May their thoughts be permanently glued with the stickiness of God's Word and their hearts covered by the thickness of His steadfast love.

 

And then, over the always-present struggles, hearts broken by flawed people, even injuries inflicted by those who should have known better, the festering of deep wounds, the bleeding out for decades, may God pour His grace and forgiveness over transgressions and heal their spirits without a limp, scar or recurring sorrow.  Redemption doesn't act like nothing ever happened but creates something new, not a band-aid stretched over it, but a resurrection all the way through.    

We can pray continually that these things, and even more, rising and emerging out of the hard soil and barren ground, coming up, embracing, and drawing them back to Him.

Praying until these things are no longer a memory but an insatiable yearning for God. 

Pray like anything is possible.  And know that God exceeds any predetermined thing we can ask for. He calls us all to Himself.   

God has left a witness in their hearts, ingrained deeply, calling to them, renewed every morning and resounding in the darkness of night, cutting through the noise with His still small voice. We cannot fix, rewind or restore.  But God has the power and compassion to rescue, resurrect the dead, and redeem the past, present and future.

We realize His glory there.

O God, You don't have to become real to them.  Because You already are. Let them find You ever before them. May Your invisible chariots surround them. May Your tangible love be irresistible. Bind them to You. Tie them to Your mast. Heal, shield, glue and renew the broken parts. Breathe into them. Sing choruses over them. And bring them back Home again. 

Help them to remember how much they are loved by You.  Help us to remember too. For we too -- all of us-- are red-handed rebels in need of Jesus.

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you.

I have called you by name.  You are Mine...

Because you are precious in My eyes,

and honored,

and I love you."

              Isaiah 43. 1, 4 

Rewrite their story, Almighty One. 

In Ways We Cannot See

More than 35 years ago, a deeply grieving young man sitting on an airplane began scratching out some words to describe the deep ache in his heart, the hope to which he was clinging, and contemplating what God had to say about his tragic personal loss.

Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old.  Behold, I am doing a new thing;  now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. Isaiah 43. 18 

Several years later, someone happened to read what musician Don Moen had jotted down.  In 1990, a song emerged from it, and God poured His Spirit through it.  A month ago, I heard that song for the first time since I was a young mom.  The truth in that song, the hope that it displays, almost slayed me. His lyrics had stuck with me all those years:   God will make a way where there seems to be no way. He works in ways we cannot see. He will make a way for me.  

Composing that song, Moen made God’s faithfulness to be known, not realizing what God would do with it. He just did what God laid before him to do that day.  And that song gave hope decades later to someone he didn’t even know.  And that was me.  God changes hearts.  And He starts with our own.

No one may ever notice what we are doing today.  Or be touched by it.  But God redeems every bit. He knows it all matters.  It matters a lot. Because in God's economy, there is no division between great and small. God has divinely appointed us for this place and time, and for this work that He has placed before us. 

I cannot know if either what I write or do today will last a few minutes, end up deleted, unread, forgotten or ignored.  Or maybe, just maybe, help someone to know Him more.  But I can trust God even in this situation that He is continually working, not just in this day but for eternity.

Sometimes being faithful is sitting in front of a blank laptop screen all morning. 

For the past couple of weeks, I have wrestled with some writing that I started a while ago.  I added some more to it and deleted large portions that didn’t fit.  And by lunchtime, the piece looked like a teenager’s bedroom with little passages scattered all over like discarded clothes.  But then I went for a run through the woods. All the trees waved their hallelujahs above me, and gradually I had more words than I knew what to do with.  Sometimes, we just need to give time and wiggle room to our work, allowing God to sing over us with His Almighty voice, and bringing His glue to it. Even in ways we cannot see.

We ask You, dear Father, that our tiny efforts -- be it composing a song, making a meal, or simply saying a kind word to a child -- will empower someone to make it through the day, or navigate a shadowy passage, or finally walk out of the darkness into Your light, strengthened with a strength that is not their own.  Because You bring something beautiful to our work that we cannot imagine in really hard places where there seems to be no way.  Sing over us, dear Father, a victory song.  Even when we cannot see or hear it yet, we can know that You are with us all the way through and spread Your goodness over it in ways we never realize. But we know that in whatever it may be, You, O God, bring Your glory to it.

So also good works are conspicuous and even those that are not cannot remain hidden.  1 Timothy 5. 25

The fruit of faithfulness has no expiration date.  And it becomes evident in the most unexpected ways.  May God resound through what He has placed before us today. Not just faithful to our work, but faithful to Him. And let God run with it.

Just Start

 A seasoned author recently admitted that sometimes he doesn’t know what he is going to write about until he actually just starts writing.  “And eventually, patterns emerge that I hadn’t even seen before,” he points out. 

In any creative endeavor, as we write, compose, paint or sculpt, we begin to see something different not just someday in a final product, but in the process now.

In the same way, sometimes we don’t know how to pray about a certain situation, but when we just start praying, God changes not just what we see but how we pray.

We are often so narrowly-focused and near-sighted that we “calculate too closely either the limits of the possible or the sneakiness of grace,” says Ted Loder in Guerillas of Grace:  Prayers for the Battle.

In our all-too-finite petitions, we miss His glory in the grander narrative, in how it is really playing out, and how God is unfolding an intricate sacred design, visible only from the other side of eternity. 

It is not a matter of enlarging our field of vision, but trusting God by praying differently.  His response to our prayers extends far beyond an “answer,” and is certainly never confined to a singular outcome of our own creation.

Bible teacher and theologian Nancy Guthrie challenges us to consider what we are praying for in her essay Praying Past Our Preferred Outcomes, published by The Gospel Coalition.  “Scripture provides us with a vocabulary for expanding our prayers for hurting people far beyond our predetermined positive outcomes,” she writes. “Instead of praying only for relief, we begin to pray that the glory of God’s character would be on display in our lives and the lives of those for whom we are praying.”  

When we don’t even know what to ask or how to pray, God whispers to us, “Just start praying.”  And as we pray and seek Him, God opens our hearts, thoughts, and prayers to a universe of which we are not even aware. 

Now to Him who is able
to do far more abundantly
than all that we ask or imagine
          --[or pray]--
according to the power at work
                         within us,
to Him be glory…..
                       Ephesians 3. 20-21