Category: rascals and strugglers

Dressing Up to Please, [Authenticity]

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience,”

 – Colossians 3:12, ESV

I used to always get dressed up for Sunday church, hey– our whole family dressed in their best.  “Windsor knots” and jewelry, and we looked good.  I was pastoring at this time, and we felt compelled to make a statement.  We were examples, after all. (But we were also idiots.)

This now seems a little ‘kooky’ living in rural Alaska.  During the spring breakup, we would wear big rubber boots as we navigated the mud, and then in the church foyer we would all change into our dress shoes before we entered into the sanctuary.  I admit, I’m glad that we are no longer compelled to do this.

But “dress up” is a major spiritual issue with real consequences.

Not the physical dressing, nor our preening and posturing– but spiritually, getting dressed.  Paul urges us to put on our spiritual man clothing that will honor our Father.  He lists the clothes in our “wardrobe”.  These are the things we should put on, and be seen in.  We are to cover ourselves in what really matters.

“Put on…compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience”

This is a list of items the Lord wants us to wear.  If my dear wife Lynn tells me she really likes to see me in a particular sweater, I will wear it and frequently.  I know she likes it on me, and I want to please her.  The list just above is what the Father really wants you to wear.  He wants to see you in these things.

I just want to urge you today, that you would think about your spiritual clothing.  What is covering your spiritual man?  What do you look like?  This might mean changing your clothes and putting on something that the Father really thinks you look good in.

“Father, when will I learn to dress the inside? Help me attend to the things that really matter to You. Amen.”

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On a Wing and a Prayer

 

B-29

6 “And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.”

Philippians 1:6

When I saw this photo of a B-29 it seemed perfect to open up this post. Sometimes we return from combat ‘on a wing and a prayer’

I have been ill for a long time.  My hepatitis has been aggravated the last three months.  The Bipolar depression has been a bit better, but it seems to linger like an unwelcome guest.  Recovery from the effects from my brain tumor has stalled.  And I suppose I could go on, but I won’t.

I’m mindful that I was aware of hypochondriacs before this recent spate with a medical issues.  I was pretty much annoyed by these complainers, they seemed to always be talking about themselves.  Their self-absorption with problems and complaints was an irritant for me.

Until it happens to you.  Lots of times there is a domino effect, with illness following illness.  The doctors call this “kindling.”  There can be an overwhelming co-occurrence.  Things can move down hill fairly fast.  And many conditions can overlap. Things cascade into another crisis. But there can be a right way to handle things.

“The moment an ill can be patiently handled, it is disarmed of its poison, though not of its pain.”

Henry Ward Beecher

Maintaining a spiritual discipleship is an obvious challenge.  Having something even resembling a living faith is pretty hard.  Three things have helped me.  These three doesn’t mean that there aren’t others, its just these are the boiled-down essentials.

1) Prayer–

Things will often turn from bitter to sweet in just a moment. I think of Jesus turning plain, basic water into a delicious and succulent wine.  When He shows up, everything changes– I change.  I need him, His presence isn’t an option.

2)  The Word–

Sometimes a just a phrase, a perceived inflection on the words.  Simple verses, rolling through my heart and thinking create hope, and recharges me through one more day. I realize that these are our promises, for me to call my own.  My enemy who hates me, is afraid when I start reading it. I need to read the Word.

3)  Serving Others–

I can easily paralyze myself with the awful venom of selfishness.  Self-absorbed faith will kill me.  Actually, “brokenbelievers.com” has been a way for me to recover. (I’m sitting here writing from the cozy confines of my loft in Alaska— on a beat-up old laptop.)  It has been a necessary thing.

Each of the three listed above work better when you mix and match them.  Take prayer and combine with the Word and they will strengthen each other.  Sort of a synergy happens, and things will come together for you, for one more day.  And that is just how it seems to work. It’s a pretty good start, anyway.

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Two O’ Clock in the Morning Poetry, #4

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Don’t stand beside my grave and weep,
For I’m not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

Mary Elizabeth Frye

angel-wept1“Do not stand at my grave and weep” is a Holocaust poem and elegy with a very interesting genesis, written in 1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye (1905-2004). Although the origin of the poem was disputed for some time, Mary Frye’s authorship was confirmed in 1998 after research by Abigail Van Buren, the newspaper columnist better known as “Dear Abby.” The version above was published by The Times and The Sunday Times in Frye’s obituary on November 5, 2004.

Mary Frye wrote the poem in 1932. As far as we know, she had never written any poetry before, but the plight of a young German Jewish woman, Margaret Schwarzkopf, who was staying with her and her husband at the time, inspired the poem. Margaret Schwarzkopf had been concerned about her mother, who was ill in Germany, but she had been warned not to return because of increasing anti-Semitic unrest that was erupting into what became known as the Holocaust.

When her mother died, the heartbroken young woman told Frye that she never had the chance to “stand by my mother’s grave and shed a tear”. Frye found herself composing a piece of verse on a brown paper shopping bag. Later she said that the words “just came to her” and expressed what she felt about life and death.

Mary Frye circulated the poem privately. Because she never published or copyrighted it, there is no definitive version. She wrote other poems, but this, her first, endured. Her EwaltElizFryeobituary in The Times made it clear that she was the author of the famous poem, which has been recited at funerals and on other appropriate occasions around the world for eighty years. The poem was introduced to many Britons when it was read by the father of a young soldier, Stephen Cummins, killed by a bomb in Northern Ireland. The soldier’s father read the poem on BBC radio in 1995 in remembrance of his son, after having found it in an envelope addressed “To all my loved ones” in his son’s personal effects.

She inspired many to write
She inspired many to write
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