Empty Oppulence

Yesterday we took a boat tour of Sarasota Bay. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, although a bit on the cool side. We needed sweatshirts. But, we spent the time with wonderful friends that we don't see often enough.
We were fortunate to see dolphins...5 of them. At one point, three were breaking the surface in a unison dance that looked like they had been trained to do it.
The bay is surrounded by exquisite homes. The $3 to 4 million dollar homes are viewed as "tear-downs." Buy one, tear it down and build your upwards of $10 million dollar home on the site. Most of these homes are multiple stories with porches and balconies and pools. Some of the pools have cascading waterfalls. Each time you think you have seen the ultimate in luxury, you come upon another home yet more ostentatiously designed.
We passed hundreds of homes. I saw maintenance people at several sites. In all those homes, I did not see any lights on, any movement within the house, anyone sitting on any of the porches or balconies. I saw one person, and only one, sunning herself and reading next to a pool.
Empty...empty..empty. Furniture is in place, obvious through the large windows, but no one sitting in it.
What a waste! Clearly the owners have other homes...maybe several of them.
Empty, empty, empty...the pursuit of wealth and possessions.
People in this world have no roof over their heads.
People in this world have multiple roofs, so that they can choose which one will be their shelter tonight.
Empty, empty, empty.
I have not one shred of envy.

Suffering

A dear friend, who will likely read this posting, sent me a message asking me to pray for her grandchild who is a teenager and suffering so physically, that there can't help but be accompanying emotional and spiritual suffering.
I want to say something about this, and my fingers hover over the keyboard waiting for an entire cogent thought to precipitate out of the swirl of thought fragments.
God is faithful...but the child is in pain and too young to have had a lifetime of seeing God's faithfulness.
God can heal...but He has not yet chosen to do so.
God can insert Himself into our minds and hearts...but pain can cause us not even to be able to use our minds properly.
God must have a special plan for this dear one...but the enemy of our souls knows that and would like to thwart it.
We want an answer now...but God does not operate on our timetable.

Ah....sovereign Lord!
Thank you for the Holy Spirit who intercedes when we do not have the words.
When all that comes from our hearts is a groan of shared pain, He speaks for us.
We do not know what should happen, how it should happen or when.
Most gracious and merciful God, we cast our cares and concerns on you.
The shed blood of Jesus is sufficient for all the sins of mankind and for all the suffering that comes because we live in a fallen world.
Creator, Sustainer...have mercy on this young one who is your child.

The Bottom of the Basket

Today I found the bottom of my ironing basket. This is an exceedingly unusual event, occuring only once every 3 to 4 years.
It is not that I use my iron this rarely. In fact, when I am sewing a garment made of a woven fabric, I iron at every step. I have learned that the finished product looks better if pieces are pressed regularly in the process. I also iron clothing that needs a quick touch-up before wearing, and certain items come off the top of the basket more often than annually.
But...the tablecloths just keep getting pushed to the bottom. I am a real slouch and procrastinator when it comes to ironing tablecloths. In most other areas of my life I am a get-it-done type. What am I doing with these tablecloths that need ironing! I have a couple that don't require it, and I use those over and over, while the wrinkly ones settle deeper and deeper under the pile.
Today I ironed one small table cloth and five large ones. A couple of them are so big that even the width folded in half won't fit on the length of the ironing board. This is a colossal pain as I have to keep adjusting the position of the cloth. I also ironed a couple of my husband shirts that have been missing from the poor man's closet for about a year. Sigh.
When my daughters were little, one of them lost an expensive name-brand dress shoe. We turned the house upside down looking for it. Who would have thought to look in the ironing basket? About a year later, after the shoe was outgrown, I discovered it in the bottom of the basket. When I told my mother, she was horrified, and said I should not admit that to anyone. She grew up in a different era. Her mother even ironed my grandfather's handkerchiefs.
Among the tablecloths today, was a lovely Christmas cloth. It wasn't available for use this past Christmas and maybe not the Christmas before that. My new daughter-in-law has probably never seen it.
But...it is now ready for next Christmas, and the ironing basket is briefly and blissfully empty.

Unanswered Questions

Nearly thirty years have passed since that memorable morning when my young daughter sat in the kitchen finishing her breakfast. It was almost time to head for school, but she sat there twirling her fork in a puddle of pancake syrup. My back was turned as I did something at the sink, but I could sense the quiet motion of mental wheels turning as the fork turned in the goo on the plate.
A sigh escaped.
Then the question..."Mom, in this world are there more questions than answers?"
"Yes, dear, I'm afraid there are."
There was no deep theological or philosophical follow-up discussion . What more could be said? She went off to school.
The daughter just celebrated her thirty-sixth birthday, and there are still more questions than answers. But, it was probably that moment more than any other that assured me that she would grow into a person who could cope with what life had to offer her.
We are all faced with unanswered and unanswerable questions. Sometimes we just need to get on with the business of living.

Arrogant Assumption Regarding Agony

I have been slow to pick up on this, but apparently a well-known televangelist has indicated that the earthquake in Haiti is somehow punishment for a deal made with the devil long ago.
Oh, my.
One of the most difficult things for a Christian to explain is the existence of pain and suffering in the world. Comments like his can only muddy the waters and create hurt on top of hurt.
I have done some reading and thinking on the topic of pain and suffering. I especially like "The Problem of Pain" by C. S. Lewis.
Christ Himself makes it clear that the rain falls on the just and the unjust. (See Matthew 5:45) We cannot assume that because something bad happens to a person or group that it is punishment. Nor can we assume (as preachers of the prosperity gospel do) that wealth and health are rewards.
The truth is that anyone who tries to make such correlations is arrogant and putting himself in the place of God. God alone knows the reasons for tragedies and blessings. No human being knows His mind or His purposes.
Consider Job....he was blameless and yet suffered greatly. He had no idea why. His friends were accusatory. His wife told him to curse God and die. He clung to his faith in the face of unbelievable adversity, and it turns out that is exactly what God expected of him.
There may be people in Haiti who made a pact with the devil and are suffering today. But there are also children of God who are suffering. They are crying out and clinging to their faith in a sovereign God. May He in His mercy sustain them.
May He also shut the mouths of those who arrogantly assume they can attach a reason to this agony.

Weighing in on Nature vs Nuture

I came of age intellectually during the era when the prevailing wisdom was that nurture trumped nature in determining a child's developmental outcome.

If you believed some of the writings of the 60s and 70s, there were formulas for parenting. All you had to do was A, B and C, and out the other end would pop a morally sound, self-actualized human being whom you had properly parented.

I bought into this to some degree, not only because it was the prevailing theory, but also, because as a person of faith, I believe in the ability of God to heal in every sense of the word. This includes my belief that He can help a person to overcome genetic traits and personality flaws that are less than desirable. We may struggle with these throughout our life-time, but His grace is sufficient.

Before my husband and I ever had children, we discussed the fact that they did not come with a life-time guarantee and a Good-Housekeeping Seal of Approval. We acknowledged our dependence on God to shape and mold our children, and to give us the necessary strength and wisdom to accomplish the task of parenting.

We have four children: two biological, two adopted, three girls, one boy, one adopted as an infant, one not until the age of eleven. They represent a wide range of challenges and strengths.

I now believe that nurture can only influence within the parameters set by nature. Getting outside of those parameters requires Divine intervention for which the person himself/herself must be open.

I further believe in a sort of "no-fault" parenting. If I don't try to take too much credit for positive outcomes, maybe I don't have to take too much blame for negative outcomes.

And...most importantly...I am still a person of faith. I prayed every day for the wisdom to make correct decisions regarding my children, and the strength to carry out those decisions. I know I didn't do everything perfectly, but having exercised faith on a daily basis means that I cannot now beat myself up over results.

My children as they have become adults, must accept responsibility for their own lives. Each of us must answer to God individually. When we stand before Him, we are not going to get away with blaming our parents or our church or our teachers or our friends for what we have done and failed to do.

And so....I still pray for each of my children and my grandchildren to be responsive to God's voice and sensitive to His leading. The grace of God trumps both nurture and nature.

Lost Child

I know the feeling. The heaviness in the middle of the chest, the emptiness in the pit of the stomach, the swirling confusion in the head that accompanies the realization that you have no idea where your child is, or whether or not she is safe.

I experienced it the day my daughter did not arrive at school. Someone saw her get in a car with a guy at the bus stop. When we called the police, and they found out she was over 16, they said, "Well, then, we have to assume she is where she wants to be."

My husband spent the day driving around looking for the car that was described to us by friends at the bus stop.

A repeat of the feeling occurred the night we discovered her bed empty and her footprints leaving the house in the new-fallen snow.

Then there was the time we knew she was somewhere in town with someone, because she was going to school, but she wasn't coming home at night.

Later still, there was a time she called us from North Carolina.

"What are you doing in North Carolina?"

"I came down here with Chuck," she replied.

"Chuck who?"
She called out, "Chuck, what's your last name?"

I thought I might pass out that time. She was pregnant and we didn't know who the father of the baby was, but it wasn't Chuck.

Now the child she was carrying during that incident has disappeared herself. No one has seen her or heard from her in a week. She isn't answering her cell phone, and no calls have been made on it since December 30th. She hasn't been to school yet since Christmas break is over. She is 18 years old, cute as a button and very, very foolish.

I wouldn't wish the feeling a mother has in this situation on anyone....not even on the daughter who did it to me, and is now experiencing it herself.