Broken World

Broken world,

Broken lives.

Scattered fragmented pieces,

Rather than beauty and wholeness.

Violent thoughts,

Violent deeds,

Actions filled with hatred,

In the place of comfort and love.

Babe in a manager,

Savior on a cross,

Your purpose was healing.

We are guilty of wounding.

Our fractured world,

Our broken land,

Our sinful hearts cry out,

Only you can make us whole.

All creation groans,

 In anticipation,

Make the crooked straight,

Make the rough places plain.

You came once humbly,

Come now in power.

May every knee bow to you alone,

Creator, Sustainer, Sovereign Lord.

Merciful Father,

Hear our cry!

Evolution and Despair

I just watched a clip on "Through the Wormhole" about "Directed Evolution."  The premise is that as humans advance in genetic technology, we will be able to control our own evolution, and that if we want to continue to "evolve," we must do so.

There are some things in this piece that leave me scratching my head in wonder.

The statement is made that "evolution is a random process that usually leads to dead ends."  Hey!  I believe that, and it is exactly why I believe in an intelligent Creator bringing about the world and everything in it.  The odds are astronomically against complex organisms developing by chance. Evolutionists supposedly think we (creationists and intelligent designers) are silly to believe this, but now here is an argument by an evolutionist that what we have said all along is true.  So, now since evolution doesn't work all that well on its own, we must tinker with our genes to continue improving our species.

I don't think we are yet anywhere near wise enough or knowledgeable enough to begin this tinkering.  We are not much past the now debunked belief that our DNA contains lots of "junk" that has no purpose.  Until we know the ramifications of our tinkering, we need to proceed with excessive precautions, lest we alter something we think has no purpose and discover we were mistaken.

The psychological impact of these beliefs is enormous.  It we are just the product of chance and need to start directing our own genetics to improve, we are subject to despair.  I am an accident.  I have no intrinsic worth.  My offspring will be as bad off as I am unless I figure out how to improve my own genes.  But if I don't know how to go about this or don't have the money to pay for it, my children are doomed to be as bad off as I am. What is the point?

Contrast this with:  I am a unique creation of a loving God.  He planned for my existence.  He desires to know me and help me to live a meaningful life.  My life and that of my offspring can be trusted to Him.

I am horrified by the number of teens and young adults I meet who believe that they are without value and that their lives are meaningless. Believing in our random evolution has consequences for emotional health.  Not only is it intellectually dishonest, it is foolish, emotional suicide.

Advent Wreath

The church I currently attend generally has an Advent Wreath for the Sundays leading up to Christmas.  Finding a pink candle is sometimes a problem.  This year I volunteered to put the wreath together.  I was really proud of myself for finding a pink candle, until I remembered that the only one I could find was scented, and one of the members of our congregation has allergies which might be triggered by the wafting aroma.

So...I decided to solve the problem permanently.  I purchased a 12 inch square piece of craft plywood, 5 electric candles and a piece of Christmas garland.  I knew I had colored cellophane at home.  

I painted the wooden square green.  While  it was drying, I wrapped 3 candles in purple cellophane and one in pink cellophane, gluing the overlap of the paper.  When the paint and glue were dry, I glued the five candles in place.  The white one in the center and the other four set in a bit from each of the corners. 

 I flattened the cords against the board and used a staple gun to secure the cords to the board positioning them so that they all came off the same side (what would be the back side) close together.  I wrapped the cords together with duct tape to make them easier to manage.  I marked the switches in sequence 1 through 5.  I then arranged the garland around the candles.

I now have an Advent Wreath that won't burn the church down or cause an allergic reaction.
Also...I won't have to go on a quest for a pink candle again next year.

Crazy??? Maybe Not!

My family tree is full of women named Ruth.  I was named after my mother's baby sister who died as an infant.  However, I had two other Aunt Ruths, and one of them, who had married into the family, was generally viewed as rocking off the edge of sanity.

Aunt Ruth was a high-strung, nervous woman, who never seemed as mentally agile as most of the family.  She and my uncle apparently enjoyed arguing...it was their relationship style.  He did, however, always get the best of her.  He used to threaten that if she died first, he would see to it that the hearse was put at the end of the procession to the cemetery, because she had never been any place on time in her entire life, and he wouldn't want her to feel uncomfortable at her own funeral.

Aunt Ruth had some bizarre habits.  If she invited someone for dinner, they needed to plan on the meal being at least two hours later than she had said it would be served. I once watched her fuss over every minute detail during those two hours, even though the meal was not elaborate.  When she wished to cover a bowl before placing in it the refrigerator, she did not use plastic wrap or foil or a lid.  Nope, she placed a sheet of waxed paper over the bowl and spent an eternity taking tiny tucks in the paper to crimp it to the edge of the bowl.

One of the things that caused people to think she was really nuts, was her insistence that when my uncle retired, she was retiring also.  She had never worked outside of the home, so her definition of retiring was that she was no longer going to fix dinner.  Since she began refusing to allow anyone into their home, I am suspicious that she may have also stopped cleaning.  I was not able to verify that, but she actually did follow through on her threat to stop preparing meals,  They went out to dinner every evening after my uncle retired.

My husband and I are now retirement age, and I'm starting to think she wasn't as crazy as we all thought.  I haven't yet tired of meal preparation, but I certainly have tired of the clean up afterward.  I have a dishwasher, and some evenings my husband is quite helpful.  But...I am definitely growing weary of dirty dishes.  I have pondered the use of paper plates, but I don't like to eat from them on a regular basis, and I would still have to deal with the pans and other utensils used to prepare the meal.

"Retiring" as defined by my "crazy" Aunt Ruth is starting to look like an attractive option.

My Grandmother's Song

It seems strange to me that a song my Grandmother sang to me when I was a small child comes to my mind so frequently.  I find myself singing it while driving along in the car.  Sometimes the words play soundlessly in my mind. 

My Grandmother died at the age of 68, when I was thirteen.  My memories of her do not extend over a long period of time, but since we lived with her and my Grandfather at times when I was young, my memories are deep.

I can recall how it felt to sit on her lap and hear her frail, but true to pitch, voice.

Jesus bids us shine,

With a pure, clear light,

Like a little candle,

Burning in the night.

In this world of darkness,

Bids us shine--

You in your small corner,

And I in mine.

This represents a slight alteration in words from the original, but it is the way I remember her singing it.

If Grandma had lived longer, allowing for adult level discussion, I might have inquired about the meaning of this song in her life.  Was it just a children’s song, she thought I would enjoy?  Was she purposely trying to instill its meaning in my young mind?  Was what she believed in her heart flowing out without specific thought as to its impact on me?

I know there have been long periods in my life….perhaps, years….when I haven’t thought of this song.  But, now that I am the age at which I last remember my Grandma Baumeister, the song has resurfaced and imbedded itself in my mental playlist.

And so...

Jesus bids us shine….you in your small corner, and I in mine.

Between a Hard Place and the Rock

Between a Hard Place and the Rock

A hard place...
            rends my heart
            fills my mind
            crushes my spirit.

So I...
            run to the refuge of
            flee to the shadow of
            crawl to the shelter of

The Rock.

Point of Tension

Those of us who have a Christian commitment need to be honest with ourselves about the tension between belief and unbelief that exists at our very core.  We live in a physical world where the things which seem most real are those we can touch, taste, smell, hear and see.  Tangibles represent a certain security.  However, as “believers,” we also live in a spiritual world which is only spiritually discerned.  At times that dimension can seem more real than the physical, but at other times, we struggle to hang on.  It is easy to believe when life is cruising along without bumps in the road.  It is much more difficult when hardship and discouragement descend and the way ahead seems impassable.

We are not alone.  Job was a man of enormous faith, but when he experienced great suffering, he swung from despair to ecstasy and back again.

                Job 9:33  If only there were someone to arbitrate between us, to lay his hand upon us both, someone to remove God’s rod from me, so that his terror would frighten me no more.

                Job 10:18  Why did you bring me out of the womb?  I wish I had died before any eye saw me.

                Job 19:25  I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth.  And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God.

In the New Testament, a man with a demon-possessed son comes to Christ.  His dilemma is the same.  He has watched in grief as his son has been tormented, and there seems to be no cure.

                Mark 9:21-21  Jesus asked the boy’s father, “How long has he been like this?” 

                “From childhood,” he answered.  “It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him.  But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”

                “If you can?” said Jesus.  “Everything is possible for him who believes.”

                Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

The King James Version says this more poetically:  “Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.”

Personally, at times of great difficulty and discouragement, when I have questioned God’s existence and whether faith in Him had validity, I have come to the point of thinking, “If there is no solution to my situation in faith, there is no solution anywhere.  I chose to believe……Lord, help my unbelief.”

I would encourage those with doubts, not to beat up on themselves.  God “remembers that we are dust.” (Psalm 103:14)  He did not browbeat the boy’s father or refuse to heal the boy because the father had a sliver of unbelief.  He accepted the faith that the man did have and responded by healing the son.

God accepts our honest questions today, just as He accepted those of Job.  We do not have to fear approaching the God of the universe, because He is also a loving father who knows our weaknesses.