All is Forgiven

I was angry with my Christmas cactus, because it did not bloom for me at Christmas.  I had placed it in a dark closet and not watered it for the month of November which should have triggered it to start blooming, but nothing!  My African violet was covered with lovely purple flowers with white edges.  The orchid was full of blossoms, but the Christmas cactus let Christmas go by without any signs of color.

About 5 years ago, I had salvaged the plant from my in-laws’ home after they passed away.  It had not been cared for, other than being watered, for some time.  The pot it was in was too small and had been sitting on a windowsill.  This had caused the plant to develop unevenly…all to the right and left…nothing to the front or back.  It was so unbalanced that it fell over if it wasn’t leaning against the glass.  I put it in a much larger pot and allowed it to spread in all directions.  It cooperated and pleased me with blossoms.  Then I moved it to Florida with me.  Even though I had treated it well, it disappointed me at Christmas time.

I became very ill during the month of March with a respiratory infection.  I was ill for over 3 weeks, and because of the covid-19 concern, I was quarantined to my apartment.  I live in a beautiful community, but I was told not to leave my apartment even wearing a mask.  I could not go out for a walk or over to check our little garden plot.

In this time of isolation, my Christmas cactus decided to bloom…..and not just with a few blossoms.  It has burst forth with an abundance of exquisite blossoms.  The individual flowers have multiple petals and the pistil and stamens in the center of the flowers are delicate and beautifully arranged.  The plant has delighted and pleased me.  It brightens my long and rather boring days.

Its earlier failure is completely forgiven, because it has blossomed at precisely the right time.

It is the Best of Times...It is the Worst of Times

The fact that we are currently “locked in” with our family or perhaps with just a spouse will be a real blessing for some.  Some of us will look back on this as one of “the best of times.”  My family has been previously “quarantined” by blizzards and ice storms and a microburst.  We have played “survivor” for real, with life being pared down to the essentials...keeping the house warm, cooking food over a fire, lighting our way with candles and flashlights.  My family members actually have fond memories of those crazy times.

In the isolation we are now experiencing, we at least still have all our normal services to make life comfortable.  There are even ways to have groceries or meals delivered if we can’t go out at all.  We have electricity and internet, so we can watch television and browse the web to feel connected.  We have telephone service.  I remember the sadness with which I watched ice tear down the telephone lines.  Now we have cell phones not dependent on wires to the house.

The notion of spending days on end with only my husband is not the least bit upsetting.  We have been best friends for over 53 years…married for over 51 years.  We are both currently sick, but that doesn’t change our relationship.  We cough up our guts in unison and use the same spittoon.  Not sexy?  After all these years, we are past such worries.  We manage each day by doing what we each can do and hoping the other has the strength and energy to pick up the slack.  This, of course, means that dishes are sitting in the sink longer than normal, and meals are bare bones, if not take-out.  Neither of us has an appetite anyway.  Lacking energy and ambition, we collapse against each other on the sofa and watch dumb stuff we have already seen.

But, we will get through this because our relationship is based on love and respect and a commitment to each other’s well-being.   When we disagree, neither of us feels we have to “win” an argument.  We discuss and debate, but we don’t yell.  Neither of us says mean or hateful things.  The idea of hitting one another is unthinkable.

I fear that there are those for whom this may be “the worst of times.”  In homes where there is a tendency toward lashing out angrily and abusive behaviors, the tension of being isolated as a family may push things over the edge into spousal or parental abuse.  Mothers who can’t wait for summer vacation to end so they can send the kids back to school are now confronted with the need to oversee some semblance of education.  Many will be ill-prepared for this.  Children who are not used to their parents establishing limits may not want to cooperate.  Being out of work and the resulting financial difficulties will contribute to rising tensions between spouses.  If there is a tendency toward domestic abuse, there will be plenty of opportunity for it being triggered.

I can see the potential for all of this, but I feel powerless to do anything about it.  I live in a retirement community, so I am not near families who may be struggling.  Also…I am presently sick and avoiding contact with anyone.  I have laryngitis and can’t even talk on the phone for very long without coughing.  So, here I am, sitting on the shelf.  From this vantage point, I pray that those who are in need will find help, and that churches will find ways to reach into their communities.  It may be that during the worst of times, hearts and minds are more open to learning that the best of times comes from a relationship with a loving heavenly Father.

Taking the Wrong Advice

 Solomon’s kingdom was recognized throughout the known world for its splendor, and Solomon himself was recognized for his wisdom.  The Queen of Sheba had said, “…not even half the greatness of your wisdom was told me; you have far exceeded the report I heard.  How happy your men must be!” (II Chronicles 9:6-7)

 But it seems not everyone was happy.  The wealth described must have resulted from a burden of taxation and enforced labor.  When Solomon died and his son Rehoboam ascended to the throne, he was approached by a group of his subjects under the leadership of Jeroboam.  They requested that the “heavy yoke” placed on them by Solomon be lightened by Rehoboam.

Rehoboam did not answer immediately.  He asked that they return in three days for his answer.  This would have been to his credit, if he had used those days to pray for wisdom and to seek the counsel of godly men.

He asked the advice of two groups.  The first group was comprised of the elders who had served under his father.  They advised, “If you will be kind to these people and please them and give them a favorable answer, they will always be your servants.” 

Rehoboam should have stopped there.  It sounds as though he had already made up his mind in the other direction and was just looking for someone to agree with him.  He then went to the young men with whom he had grown up.  They offered the opposite advice.  He should, they said, answer harshly and tell his subjects, “My father laid on you a heavy yoke, I will make it even heavier.”

Rehoboam went with the advice of his young friends.  As a result, the kingdom was split.  Rehoboam ended up ruling only over the tribes of Judah and Benjamin.  The remaining ten tribes gave their allegiance to Jeroboam.

The wisdom with which Rehoboam’s grandfather David and father Solomon had ruled had been derived from God Himself.  David had remained in a constant relationship with God recognizing his sovereignty.  Although Solomon had in later life strayed from some of God’s commandments, he had on initially becoming king requested that God gift him with wisdom, and God had promised that He would grant that request.  Rehoboam apparently had no such inclinations.  He thought his young friends…his peers…could advise him.

It is heartbreaking to see a young person follow the lead of his/her peers rather than the wisdom of his elders or more importantly, the directives of the God who loves him.  This is all too common.  A young person does not want to believe that his parents have much to offer.  He desperately wants to go his own way.  He may ask advice, but he will keep asking until he finds someone who agrees with what he wants to do anyway.

How different for the young person who keeps his eyes fixed on Jesus and doing what is right in God’s sight…no matter how difficult.  God loves each of us as individuals and has a plan for each life.  It is His intent to bring blessing. 

The wisdom of Rehoboam’s father Solomon from Proverbs 3: 1,5,6  “My son…trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”

Advice not taken by Rehoboam.

He's Going to Lose His Job!

I just came back from a quick trip to Walmart.  I was looking for some buttons which I didn’t find, but I picked up a couple of other items.  I could see that there were two employees at one of the check-out aisles where there were no customers.  That usually means someone is being trained, but that was OK with me.  I wasn’t in a hurry.   Good thing!

My purchases came to $14.97, and I gave the young man a 20 dollar bill.  Of course, I was able to speedily determine that my change should be $5.03.  I didn’t need the machine to tell me that.  The young trainee handed me a wad of bills and a whole handful of change.  I said, “This isn’t right,” before I had even counted it.  By the time the trainer had ripped off the register tape and looked at it, I noticed that there was a $10 among the bills, so I said, “You’ve given me too much!”

I handed back the 10 dollar bill.  The trainer said to the trainee, you owed her 5-O-3.  The trainee then began to remove 3 dimes from the till.  It took considerable time to straighten this all out.  At some point, I ended up with 4 singles, 3 quarters, one nickel and 2 pennies and the drawer was shut. The trainer couldn’t get it open.  He had to go get a supervisor. 

While the trainer was gone, I said to the young trainee, “You need a math tutor.”  I tried to say this kindly and sympathetically.

He replied, “I took 8^th grade math, but I didn’t do well.  My father punished me for my bad grades, and my mother said it was the school’s fault.”

Eventually, I got the right amount of change, but I felt so sad.  This poor young fellow probably really needs a job.  He is probably OK as long as someone uses a credit or debit card, but he is totally lost if someone uses cash.  This is basic math, but he didn’t even really need it.  The register itself said my change should be $5.03.

As someone who has tutored math, I am wondering, should I be trying to help someone like this? How would I go about it?  It makes me so sad to see someone without such a basic skill.

The Alligator's Teeth

It’s not quite teleportation, but isn’t it amazing how small the world has become?  I can travel across the country in one day.  I woke up this morning in California.  My son drove me to the San Jose airport, and by early evening east coast time, I will be in Florida.  Travel internationally is, of course, even more amazing.  One can enter the wormhole in one country and step out into a different culture and language.  It may take a long and tiring day to do so, but it can be done.

As with other technological advances now available to us, both good and bad can come of this.  I can easily cross the country to see my grandchildren.  I don’t have to travel by covered wagon across the wasteland of deserts and impassable mountains I looked down upon today.  That’s a good thing.  The bad thing is that disease can spread as quickly.  Anyone on this plane could have been exposed to the novel virus now so feared…or even ebola.  Who knows?

When I miss my long-distance family, I can video chat…what a great invention!  But that kind of technology also makes vulnerable people easily available to scammers, radicalizers, sex trafficers and others with evil intent.

Genetic tinkering can be used to prevent or cure diseases once fatal, but it has the potential to also be used to make “designer” babies.  Do we really want to live in a world where only the “perfect” have value?

Lives can be prolonged by complicated surgeries…transplants, stents, radical excisions and reconstructions, but quality of life may be sacrificed in the process.  Do I want to live 2 more years in agony at great monetary and emotional expense to my family or would six less stressful months suffice?

The problem in each of these cases is that scientific research and the resulting knowledge has allowed us to come to a point where our knowledge far exceeds our wisdom.

This week I read a book to my grandchildren in which the author tried to explain the difference between wisdom and knowledge.  The idea was that you could know every possible fact about an alligator, but what if you stuck you hand in his cage and got it chomped off?  You might be smart, but you wouldn’t be wise.  We live in a world with many “alligators” about which we know many facts, but we aren’t wise enough to avoid being bitten.

I am a lover of science.  My undergraduate degree is in chemistry, and I tremendously enjoy learning new things.  I am not suggesting we should stop learning and exploring and trying to use our knowledge to improve lives.  But….what do we do about the inherent risks of evil associated with our advancements?

An alligator may have as many as 3000 teeth during its lifetime, but how do we avoid being punctured?

What if Covid19 Comes Here????

What makes us think we are entitled to live in a world without hardships...that we should always be prosperous, have all our needs and wants met, be free from disease, never suffer loss?  In the United States we have become so accustomed to a comfortable lifestyle that we forget most of the world is still suffering and that we are only a generation or two past such times here.

We watch a “reality” show called survivor which isn’t remotely akin to reality and has little to do with actual survival.  It is a foolish game that we watch, because most of us haven’t dealt with the genuine situation.  Hardship for us is going without one meal, or feeling cold because we forgot our sweater, or having our sleep disturbed by the neighbor’s dog barking or the occasional bout of the gastrointestinal bug.

We have forgotten that there was a time when hurricanes and snow storms could not be predicted, when immunizations weren’t available to prevent diseases and antibiotics weren’t available to treat them, when diabetes and cancer were an automatic death sentence, when building and maintaining a fire were essential for warmth and food preparation.

Sickness and death seem foreign and like an unimaginable tragedy rather than a routine part of life.  My grandparents were born in the late 1800s.  Their lives were so much more difficult than mine.  My paternal grandmother lost her mother to cancer when she was still a young girl.  She lived on a farm where she worked as hard as a boy.  Her father was physically abusive.  My maternal grandmother’s father was murdered when she was young.  She had to drop out of school after the 8^th grade and go to work as a seamstress.  Two of her siblings died young of kidney disease.  She and my grandfather lost a baby to measles.  My grandparents lived through the depression.  All of their sons served overseas in World War II.  What have I suffered by comparison?  Very, very little!

And so we are now in a panic over the corona virus.  Some of us will get sick and some of us may die.  We feel as though this is some sort of personal insult which our government should be able to prevent.  Conspiracy theories, finger-pointing and apocalyptic pronouncements abound. 

I believe in a God who is sovereign over human history.  I do not know what He is planning or will allow, but I trust Him to do what is right and what will bring about His purposes for the world in general and for me personally.

Tomorrow I will get on a plane on the west coast and fly to the east coast.  I will probably use some hand sanitizer along the way, but I do not feel anxiety about the possibility of exposure to corona virus or the flu or about the chance of the plane crashing.

I do not expect my life to be free of difficulties, and I do not expect my government to be responsible for all my personal needs and wants.  I know I live in a broken world.  Only my Savior can rescue me and make the crooked straight.

Vision or Coincidence?

A few days ago, I finished reading a novel in which the main character had visions.  There was discussion in the book about whether or not it is possible for a person to see what is going on in someone else’s life when they are not in physical proximity.  One of the characters in the book, who was counselling the person who had the visions, believed this was possible if there was a close emotional bond between the person in the vision and the person having the vision.  I was reminded of something my Mother told me years ago.

During World War II, all the men in my family in the generation before me were in the military.  My Dad was in France.  His brother was a medic on a hospital ship in the Pacific.  One of my Mother’s brothers was in north Africa, and the other two were in Europe.

It was a difficult time for both sides of my family.  My grandfathers were the only men around in either household.  There was a lot of stress, and my Mother was pregnant with me.  One night during this time, my Mother awakened in a cold sweat.  She had heard her brother Frank call out, “Laurena, I’ve been shot!”

Communications at this time were not instantaneous as they are now.  Time passed…I don’t know if it was days or weeks…before the family received word that Frank had indeed been shot by a German sniper.  His elbow was shattered and required a metal plate, but his life was spared. 

Apparently, he got most of the use of his arm back, as my Mother told me that when he came home, he used to lift me to the ceiling and purposely hit my head on it.  This apparently caused me to call him Bink instead of Uncle Frank.   In any event, I was delighted and would squeal, “Do it again Bink.”  Perhaps I was unknowingly participating in his physical therapy.

I have wondered about this incident.  My Mother didn’t dwell on it and never mentioned any similar experiences.  I suppose one could say it was a coincidence.  Obviously with all the young men in harm’s way, the family was experiencing anxiety.  But it was Frank she heard call to her, and it was Frank who caught the bullet.  My Mother had a great deal of affection for all three of her brothers, and they all seemed to adore her…so who knows?  Perhaps an emotional bond can span the Atlantic Ocean.