Back to the Valley

I was mentioning to a young mother of 4 the other day, of how I would love to go back to when my own kids were young.  I long to relive those wonderful moments of sweet babies and toddlers snuggling in on your lap for stories and hugs the size of Mack Trucks.  Then I remembered the sibling fights, the throwing of food, the night time vomiting and the dirty diapers.  Maybe just an hour…or even just 15 minutes would be enough.

I think we can all think of moments in life, where we wish that we could either go back and relive, or have found ourselves in a moment that we wished would never end.  It is kind of like that last night of vacation before you have to head back to the workplace.  You relish the moment of tranquility and want to stay in that moment…you don’t want to leave and you certainly don’t want to go back to work.  Perhaps you have even cried out…”Calgon Take me Away!”  I tried that once only to be interrupted by my wife say, “Finish up in there! I need your help with the kids!”

Recently, we were visiting our daughter in Georgia, the weather was hot and sticky and overall quite unpleasant for this northern boy.  The morning came for our departure and I remember getting up and watching the sunrise and despite the weather…I found myself not wanting that final morning to end.  Hannah and I drank our coffee and ate our breakfast in cherished fondness and I knew that the goodbyes were to coming far too quickly.  The funny thing with time is that there is nothing you can do to change its speed.  You can’t slow it down and you can’t speed it up.  7:30 came and so did her departure.  I went from a moment that I didn’t want to end to a moment I didn’t want to experience.  

I am reminded of the mountain top moment that Jesus shares with Peter, James and John, (Matthew 17:1-27).  Jesus is transfigured before their eyes and even Moses and Elijah join the party.  Peter in all of his excitement reflects his desire to stay right where they are.  He doesn’t want to leave.  He even offers to put up some tents for Jesus and his two prophet friends and make the moment last…perhaps even permanent.  But…Jesus has no intention of keeping them on the mountain…instead; he takes them back to the valley.

As great as many of these moments are, I am learning that God does not call us to stay on the mountain. I have had many wonderful mountain top moments in my life. I have had countless moments of sweet contentment, including my wedding, the birth of my children, encounters with God, spiritual retreats and conferences.  Yet, in the midst of these moments, Jesus seems to always take me back to the valley.  I am learning that this isn’t some form of sadistic punishment…but rather, it is in the valleys where the real ministry happens.  It is in the valley where my life is truly transformed. It is in the valleys where I meet with other’s whose lives need to be touched by God.

May we come to see the Glory of God on the mountain…and then know that he will take us to the valleys.  Jesus doesn’t call us to stay with him on the mountain, rather he promises to stay with us in the valley. 

Catch Me!

I spent the day with my dad today, helping him run tubing for in floor heating on the foundation of a new out building.  By the time we were finished running the tubing, both he and I could hardly walk due to the age of our legs, knees and backs.  This has not always been the case.  In fact, as a child I remember standing on the end of a dock while my dad urged me to jump into the water.  The water was over my head, but it was not over his.  Yet, he beckoned me to trust him and take the leap of faith.  I continued to hesitate.  I even hesitated after I watched my older brother jump from the dock and into my dad’s arms.  Sure enough, my dad caught my brother just as dad had promised.  Yet I waited. 

Finally, after what must have seemed an eternity, I mustered my courage and jumped.  To my surprise I did not plummet below the surface.  To my surprise I found myself safely in the grasp of a 25 year old father whose knees, legs and back did not yet hurt. I doubt that he would invite me to jump into his arms like that today.

I must admit, the jump was wonderful! It was thrilling.  In fact, it was so thrilling that I continued to make trips out of the water…onto the dock…into the air…and back into the waiting arms of dad who was standing in water up to his chest.  Each time I approached, he called, “Jump,” and each time he caught me. 

However…there is always a however in life…however…after a while of idle beach time, I ran to the dock…I came to the edge…and I jumped and said…”Catch me daddy!”  The problem was, that dad was not there calling to me, “Jump.”  Once I was airborne I realized my error.  I hit the water…then I went under the water…and then my feet were standing underwater on the wet lake bottom sand.

Fortunately for me, dad was near enough to grab be and pull me back to the surface…unfortunately…I didn’t have gills.  I came up coughing and hacking with water shooting from my nose. 

Faith is an interesting thing.  So often we struggle to have faith in the one who is calling to us…Jesus.  Then, at times when we see that he is indeed trustworthy…we jump…and he proves himself faithful.  Yet, there are other times, when we do not take the time to listen for his leading…and instead of waiting on him, we attempt to control his actions by acting on our own. 

We see something like this in Matthew 17:14-20.  Here Jesus is met with a man whose son is demon possessed and is in desperate need of healing.  The disciples have “tried” to cast the demon out but they have been unsuccessful.  I think what we find here is people who have tried to do spiritual actions on their own apart from a dependence on the real Master.  Perhaps they have sought to act on their “own” authority as opposed to the REAL authority…Jesus.

May we come to see that Jesus IS trustworthy and growing in our faith must be rooted in listening to him and submitting to His authority.

 Bigger

 

A few weeks ago I noted the seemingly large hullabaloo about the 50^th anniversary of the release of the 1975 hit movie, JAWS.  It has long been known as a BIG hit movie. I remember my first time watching the classic film.  It would have been around 1985 and I would have been 9 years old.  My parents treated our family to an at home movie night with popcorn and a VHS rental.  We all gathered in our small living room, that was filled with one recliner, one sofa and a hospital bed that carried my mother who was recovering from a recent back fusion surgery. 

After my little sister was put to bed, because a 4 year old should not be allowed to witness the gruesome fake blood filled scenes cause by the giant mechanical shark. However, my little brother of 6, was deemed old enough for the suspense thriller.  He sat in a folding chair next to my mother’s bed while my sad sat behind him in the recliner and my older brother and I shared the sofa. 

I acutely recall the intense imagery of the giant shark tearing apart the boats, catamarans and unawares inhabitants of the salty seas.  One of the more tense moments of the movie, came when divers went to explore the waters within the safety of a “shark cage.”  As you watched the divers slide into the dark waters and the classic “da dum,” theme music of Jaw build, you could feel your internal organs escalate in tension along with the deep throaty notes. 

I vividly remember that just before the giant shark was about to attack the caged men, my dad grabbed my six year old brother from behind and bellowed, “YAH!”  I am no expert, but I feel quite certain that my little brother nearly died of fright that day.  His eyes protruded an inch and a half out of his skull, I am certain his heart literally stopped as did his breathing.  I watched for what seemed to be 3 minutes while he tried to find the ability to breath.  Looking back it seems a bit sadistic…but also super funny.

I must admit that from that day on, I have never viewed swimming in the same light.  I have never been attacked by a shark.  I did however, have a small bass bite off a scab off from my knee when I was in Jr. High.  I remember several times while fishing, when in the process of reeling in a bass, a northern pike attacks the bass and I have actually caught two fish at the same time.

It kind of reminds me that there are always bigger fish in the lake…or the sea if you are a mechanical great white.  There are bigger bass, bigger pike and bigger sharks.  Yet, what continues to blow my mind is how big God really is.  In Matthew 17:1-13, three of Jesus’ disciples get a mere glimpse of how big Jesus really is has he is transfigured before them.  The intense glory of God is revealed for just a moment. There is NOTHING bigger.  I know that and I believe it.  Yet, what I am learning is that God is bigger than I thought.  As I continue to grow in my journey and in Him, I come to see how much bigger he really is.  I am learning, that when I struggle with the “why” questions of God, perhaps it is because my view of the bigness of God is still too small.

May we come to grow in our understanding of how big God really is…and then…may we realize that he is actually bigger yet.

Follow Me

I watched it happen while sitting inside the Little Falls Bakery and Deli.  I have witnessed scenes like this before.  They are not all that uncommon and perhaps you to have witness them play out from time to time in a somewhat similar fashion.  In this case, I watched a mother of 3 corralling her young children toward the corner of the sidewalk.  The mother pushed the stroller, which carried the baby, with one hand while holding the hand of a sweet pigtailed girl with the other.  The boy, guessed to be about 5 years old, was unattached and loving his freedom. Hyped from his recently consumed sugary confection, he danced and hopped around his struggling mother as they made their way down the sidewalk. As they reached the corner, the mother stopped the stroller and prepared to cross the semi busy main street of Little Falls.  The boy however, did not stop; he continued to hop off of the curb and began scuffling into the street. 

I am not sure where it came from, but fast as lightning the mother grew a third arm and snatched her 5 year old son back to the sidewalk.  His head jerked suddenly from the unsuspecting force and his eyes went wide with surprise. The mother’s third arm disappeared as quickly as it had immerged, as I could find no further evidence of the extra extremity.  I then watched but did not hear the obvious reprimand that followed.  I trust that this was a strong lesson for the boy. I even understood the lesson…”Follow Mom.”

Jesus has a similar lesson for Peter at one point in his ministry.  In Matthew 16:20-28, Jesus begins to tell his disciples of what the future holds for him…a future that includes suffering and death.  Peter believes this future to be optional and rebukes Jesus, insisting that he will not allow this to happen to Jesus.  I think this is the moment that Peter steps off of the proverbial curb.  It is Jesus’ job to lead and it is Peter’s job to follow.  However, Peter is taking the lead now…and Jesus says, “Get behind me.” In other words, Jesus is saying…”I don’t follow you…rather you follow me.”

Following Jesus is not all ice cream and steak dinners.  Following Jesus means suffering what Jesus suffered.  It means following him wherever he takes us. It means taking up our crosses daily…and following Him.

May we come to follow Jesus and not expect him to follow us.

Who's That Guy?

My youngest child recently began her first job.  She was hired at a local eatery establishment in Little Falls, MN. Sarah and I wanted to support our daughter in this new endeavor, so we made the decision to patron the establishment on one of her first shifts to embarrass…or rather, encourage her. 

Ironically, as Sarah and I entered and made our order, our daughter was nowhere to be seen.  In fact, we never did end up seeing her that night, though we did hear her voice back in the kitchen.

At the completion of her shift we picked her up (as she is only 15) and she filled us in on all of the behind the scenes talk of the night.  Apparently...I was the topic of discussion in the back kitchen while me and Sarah shared our chocolate shake. The following is a verbatim of the conversation…names have been changed…mostly because Erica doesn’t know the names of all of her coworkers.

“Do you know who that guy is?” asked the old gray haired guy.

“Who?” asked the old gray haired man’s wife who does not have gray hair.

“That guy out there?” said the old gray haired guy.

“I don’t know…he looks familiar I guess.” Said the old gray haired man’s wife who does not have gray hair.

“He was the track coach in Royalton.” Said the old gray haired guy.

“Oh, doesn’t he coach track in Little Falls now?” Said the old gray haired man’s wife who does not have gray hair.

“Yeah, I think so, wasn’t he also the wrestling coach in Little Falls to?” Said the young pink haired girl who may or may not be related to the gray haired guy and his not gray haired wife.

“I think you are right!” Said the old gray haired guy.

“I am pretty sure he is also the Pastor over at the Alliance Church next to Minnesota Power.” Said the old gray haired man’s wife who does not have gray hair.

“Erica, do you know who that guy out there is?” asked the pink haired girl who may or may not be related to the old gray haired guy and his wife who does not have gray hair.

“That’s my dad.” Said Erica, the daughter of the guy who is sharing a chocolate shake with his wife, while sitting in the booth at the local establishment.

I found Erica’s recollection of the story pretty entertaining…and a little confusing, since I had no idea who any of these people were.  Yet, they seemed to have a rather extensive awareness of me.  I was reminded of the encounter that Jesus has with his disciples in Matthew 16:13-20. Jesus asks them, “Who do people say that I am?” The disciples respond with a variety of options, such as, John the Baptist, a prophet, Elijah or Jeremiah. Jesus then asks them, “But what about you? Who do you say that I am?”  It is Peter who responds, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” 

This is an astounding revelation that has come out of the mouth of Peter.  So much so, that Jesus states that this revelation has come to Peter from God himself. Jesus follows up this affirmation with a proclamation of his own, that the church will be established on this “rock.”

This is the foundation of the church…but it is not on a person or a building, but rather on the very Word of God…Jesus!

May we come to see and testify that Jesus has established His Church and the gates of Hell will not prevail against it!

 Dandelions...Part II

The other day my mother shared a picture of the current condition of her childhood home.  This was the same home that I knew as Grandma’s house.  Ironically, Grandpa’s house was the house next door.  Before you draw any conclusions about my grandparents being some separated Hatfield-McCoy marriage debacle, let me reassure you that my parents grew up as next door neighbors.  This made it exceptionally convenient as a young grandson.  For example, if I found, while visiting my grandfather, that he didn’t have any sweet treats to my liking, I could run across the driveway to Grandma’s house and scope out the confections.

Grandma’s house was a magical place, filled with candies, treats, mysterious rooms and a smokey blue haze from my other grandpa.  It was hard to tell if his marshmallow cookies had actually been “smoked” to perfection or if you just tasted the flavor of the air. 

Grandma’s house was the kind of place where sugar plums truly danced in your head.  Though honestly, even on Christmas Eve, I never had sugar plums dancing in my head.  My head was usually filled with bows and arrows and guns and gophers two stepping between my ears. 

As I grew older, I found myself helping Grandma with a number of things around her candy filled home.  I would cut the grass, paint the walls, haul in wood and swing from her weeping willow in attempt to relive the adventures of Indiana Jones.  The weeping willow really wasn’t strong enough to make swinging viable, so when the long branches snapped off, we continued the adventures using the long soft branches as whips.  This game was frowned upon by the lesser dominant siblings and cousins. 

I also remember the dandelions.  Grandma’s lawn was a perpetual battle of green and yellow and cotton white puffs.  We would often pick the yellow flowers and rub them against our skin giving each other “butter burns.”  The yellow mark left on our skin would linger for days.  Grandma always encouraged us to pick the dandelions.

“Keep going boys! Get rid of all of those stubborn weeds!”

I never fully understood how a bright yellow flower could be considered a “weed,” but, despite that, I picked them.  Additionally, I would pick the white puffs and blow them, unwittingly, spreading the seed for the noxious weed to expand even further and broader across her lawn and to the neighbors.

“Oh! Don’t blow those! That spreads even more dandelions!”

Nearly every homeowner struggles to control the aggressive spread of the yellow bane.  In fact, in 1935 Minot ND threatened all homeowner with arrest if they failed to immediately cut or remove dandelions before they became the fun white puffs.  I must admit, that Minot took their dandelion issue very seriously.

In a similar fashion, Jesus takes the spreading of false teachings seriously.  In Matthew 16:1-12, two groups of proverbial “weeds,” the Pharisees and the Sadducees, join forces to confront Jesus and disprove his truth claims.  Jesus uses this moment to speak of the severity of the “yeast” that they are spreading that will affect all it comes in contact with.  This passage confronts us with the choice, will we accept the truth of Jesus? Or our own truth systems?  Jesus wants to crush our own truth systems, in order to draw us to him…the real and perfect truth.

May we come to see and cling to the truth of Jesus alone.

 Care

 

Our oldest daughter moved to Georgia this past week.  Not the country…the state. Yet, to my heart it feels as if she has moved to the moon. I know that I am not the first person who has had to navigate this chasm between the “new home” and the “no longer home” transition of a child.  I have to admit, it is even harder than I expected. 

I try and take some encouragement from some of my friends who have children living in California, Montana, Kentucky, Georgia, Florida, Texas, Maryland and Germany.  Somehow it seemed easier for them…though I doubt that it was. 

There are aspects that help reduce the sting.  Such as, face time, Spirit Airlines, unlimited talk and text and the fact that Christmas is only 31 weeks away…yes, I’m counting. 

As I ponder, I can only consider one thing that would fully remove the sting…and that is, if I didn’t care.  If I could somehow stop caring about her, about seeing her, about being with her or about helping her…then, I think it wouldn’t hurt. But, I think I’d rather have the hurt.

I don’t want to live my life without care.  In fact so many things in life hurt. If I could stop caring, then maybe the hurt would go away.  But…again…I think I’d rather have the hurt.

My parents stopped by this last week to say goodbye to Hannah as well.  It was easy to see that they too were experiencing the pain.  It was obvious…they cared.  In fact, I watched my dad slip some cash quietly into Hannah’s hand and with tears in his eyes he choked out, “This is a little something for your new place.”  I couldn’t help but think during this sweet exchange…”Who are you? You are not the dad I knew growing up! You are not the same person that gave me one penny per piece of wood that I hauled into the house in a form of an IOU.”

Despite my own feelings of injustice, I didn’t miss the beauty of the care that was expressed. 

On the day that Hannah drove off, I may or may not have sobbed off and on from 4:30-6:30 am....and battled tears throughout the day…and the next…and the next…and even now.

The lack of action doesn’t necessarily mean that we don’t care, nor does our action guarantee care.  However, I am convinced that if we hold to genuine care, action would have no choice but to follow.  You could see it in my dad’s actions and you could see it in my tears. 

All the more, you can see it in the life of Jesus.  Matthew 15:29-39 reveals yet another distribution of the deep care of Jesus to people.  In fact, every time we encounter Jesus having compassion on people in the Gospels, he follows it with action.  In this case, Jesus once again has compassion on a crowd of people…primarily Greek people, and once again he feeds them, he cares for them. Once again Jesus takes action fueled by his compassion. 

May we come to see, that Jesus cares much more than we could ever think or imagine.  We don’t always understand the ways of God, but he understands us and he cares for us deeply, longing to spend eternity with each of us.