Let Go-d

“Rest in the Lord; wait patiently for Him to act." ~ Psalm 37:7

There’s something irresistible about monkeys - they appear so sweet and cuddly; almost human in many ways.  Eerily so!

In India, where jungles are being cleared to make room for new villages, most animals adapt and move on.  Not monkeys!  Instead of picking fruit from tress, they scrounge for leftovers.  Even if doors are locked, they’ll break a window, ransack the kitchen and help themselves. 

Hindus worship the monkey god Hanuman, who represents courage, power and faith.  And because they believe in reincarnation, they won’t intentionally hurt monkeys.  But they aren’t fond of monkeys burglarizing their homes either.   So someone came up with a brilliant, humane way to catch and release the little pests.

They attach vases with wide bodies but narrow openings at the top to window sills.  Shelled peanuts serve as bait.  When a monkey smells and sees the nuts, it reaches into the vase, and tries to remove the tasty treat.  But its clenched fist is too wide for the vase’s narrow neck.

Monkeys are stubborn; they never let go of food once it’s in their grasp.  If the monkey dropped some peanuts back into the jar, he could have pulled his hand out.  So they’re stuck - until an animal control officer covers it with a burlap bag.  Only then does the monkey release its treasured treat.  The little critters are taken deep into another forest, never returning to the village again.  Crazy huh?

Sometimes we’re a lot like monkeys.  By refusing to let go of a grudge, worry or anger, we make ‘monkeys’ of ourselves.  We replay past mistakes over and over in our heads.  We cling to frustration and worry about the future.  We hold stress in our minds and bodies, creating serious health issues.  Somehow, tension becomes the norm.

We should remember three powerful words: ‘Let it go!’ 

Letting go doesn't mean we don't care.  It means we stop trying to force outcomes and behaviors.  It means we give up resistance to the way things are, for the moment.  It means we stop trying to do the impossible and instead, focus on what’s possible.

It also doesn’t mean we give up.  Actuality, giving up control of something is a clear sign of personal courage and trust in God.  Prayer is like sending our problem away by Fedex  –  confident that it will “absolutely, positively be delivered.”  The Bible is filled with reassurance that all we have to do is “let go . . . and let God” . . . do what He intended for your life long ago.  And don't tell God how big your problem is, tell your problem how big our God is.

Lord, when things aren't going the way I want them to, I forget to stop and ask what you want for me.   Help me to realize that what I desire may not be what is meant for me, or what is best for me.   Amen

Never Say Never

“Be strong and don’t give up, your work will be rewarded.” - - 2 Chronicles 15:7

You’d have to be living in a cave not to know of John Grisham – the author of 25 bestselling legal thrillers that sold over 60 million copies worldwide.  You might not know of Grisham’s generosity however.  Talent and humility – two adjectives seldom used to describe the mega-famous.

As a child, this attorney/politician-turned-author dreamed of a professional baseball career.  After his remarkable success, he built several ball fields on his property to host Little League teams.  The son of a cotton farmer, Grisham contributed heavily to restoration efforts following Hurricane Katrina.   

Rookie authors frequently sought his advice on perfecting their craft.  Sitting alone at his favorite haunt in the Old Sea Turtle Inn, an elderly man approached.  The fellow had some short stories that he wanted Grisham to critique - to see if they’re any good or if at least showed potential.  The celebrity agreed, suggesting they meet at the same time tomorrow for an honest appraisal.

After the first one, Grisham knew the rest would be equally bad, showing no sign of creative talent.  It read like it was written on a typewriter . . . by a typewriter!   This was easily some of the worst fiction he had ever perused, and keep in mind he’d read Patterson – once you put one of his books down, you simply couldn’t pick it up again!

But Grisham was a kind man, and he told the elderly gentleman as tenderly as possible that the stories lacked much value.  As a professional he wouldn’t lie to the man and even though disappointed, the guy respected Grisham's conclusion.

He apologized for taking up the famous author’s time, but would he just look at a few more stories - these done by a younger writer?   Grisham agreed, out of both guilt and curiosity.

They met as planned the next day.  Grisham was thunderstruck!   This collection was powerfully emotive, morally significant, and artfully spontaneous.  "These," he said, "are very good!  This student has great potential; his future will be bright so long as he works hard and sticks to it!

The old fellow was deeply moved. "When can I meet this fine young author?" Grisham asked.  "Your son?"

"No," said the old man sadly.  "It’s my work - 40 years ago.  I gave up too soon.  If only I’d heard your praise back then!"

Everyone struggles staying motivated to reach their goals.  Just look at how many people go on diets, lose weight, and then gain it back again!  Refocusing, changing, or making a fresh start takes effort, but it’s never impossible with good planning, realistic expectations, and a “never-say-never” attitude.  A little prayer doesn’t hurt either:

Lord, give me faith in myself.  Not only on the days when I’m winning and nothing seems impossible, but on days when I wonder if I‘m brave enough, smart enough, or strong enough.  Don't let me quit, not ever.  Let me keep faith in myself.  Amen

Love in the Shadows

“Faith, hope, and love; the greatest of these is love.” - - 1 Corinthians 13:13

Jack arrived early.  He wanted to be first – he needed to be first! 

It was just a few minutes past eight o’clock when the nurse invited him back to an exam room to have stitches removed from his forehead.   He’d taken his own stiches out plenty of times, but at 84 his hands weren’t steady enough anymore.

Nancy asked him take a seat, knowing it would be quite a while before someone would see him.   Jack kept looking at his watch, he was in a hurry!  He had a much more important appointment at 9:00am.

She examined a wound well healed.  Nancy arranged the needed supplies, got approval to remove his sutures, and redressed the wound.  Somewhere in the conversation that followed, she asked Jack if he had another doctor's appointment this morning since he was in such a rush.

“Nope!” he said proudly.  “I need to get to the nursing home to have breakfast with my lovely wife.”  He added, “Sixty-two years together and counting!”

Jack confided that his wife had been there for 7 years; a victim of Alzheimer's.  As they talked, Nancy asked if his wife would be upset if he was a bit late.

“She no longer knows who I am; she hasn’t recognized me in five years.”

Nancy probed further, "And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't recognize you?"

Jack smiled as he patted her hand, "She doesn't know me, but I know who she is!  Goosebumps flared as Nancy fought back tears.

“When my wife Helen was available to me,” I often turned to her if not instead of the Lord, ahead of Him.  God waited patiently to become my #1 confidant, but in the meantime He cared lovingly for me, at times using Helen’s hands and soul to bless my life.”

Eyes melting with compassion, Jack continued.  “I loved her from the moment we met.  Now that her memory’s abandoned her, she needs me more than ever.  Words may fail . . . but our love never will!   She knows . . . she knows!”

Isn’t that the kind of love we all dream to experience?

Sensing God's presence is difficult when confronted with dementia among loved ones.  It’s an incurable progressive brain disorder that gradually destroys a person's memory and ability to learn, reason, communicate and carry out daily activities. 

When it seems like there’s no one else to turn to – remember that if we have Jesus, we truly have all we need.  He’ll help us listen with our hearts to feel another’s pain, give us words that comfort and bring glory to His Name.

Teacher, Healer, my heart’s needs are fed through You – I know You will never leave me.  Bless me with a love that never fails, a heart that never hardens, an opinion that never hurts, and a touch that never fails to comfort.  Amen

Life Before Dying

“Every man dies - not every man really lives."  ~ William Ross Wallace

Pastor Dave, a Hospice Chaplin, had played this scene out hundreds of times with people who lay dying - in their homes, in hospitals or in nursing homes.  Mostly, they talk about their families: mothers and fathers, sons and daughters.  They reminisce about love they felt, and love they gave.  Often they talk about love they didn’t receive, love they didn’t know how to offer, or love withheld from ones they should’ve loved unconditionally. 

Some are lonely, not only because people don’t visit, but visitors may spend their time wrapped up in idle talk about weather, sports, or politics.  Their chatter keeps the dying person from being able to speak intimately.  Sometimes people in their last few hours on earth want to unburden themselves of deep secrets buried for a lifetime. 

Hank was no exception.  While his breathing had become labored, every few minutes he’d say something: maybe just one word, occasionally a whole sentence, but hurriedly spoken between gasps, and hard to understand.

"I know why this is happening to me,” he said is a raspy, halting voice.  “God’s allowing this because . . . The conversation ended as Hank slipped back into semi-consciousness.

Ever-the-Pastor, Dave Morton responded quickly.  “God loves you, Hank,” trying to reassure the dying man that whatever he regretted, he was forgiven.  “You didn’t do anything to deserve this; it’s not your . . .” an agitated Hank woke up and abruptly cut him off. 

"Every time I saw a suffering child, I asked God to let me bear some of the load.  I thought He wasn't listening, but now I know he heard my prayer.  He’s letting me carry some of their pain,” he said before drifting off again.

What an amazing example of character, thought Pastor Dave.  In Romans 15:2, Paul talks about self-sacrifice; giving of yourself for the sake of others.   Jesus was the perfect example of how to live our lives.  That’s the very definition of being a Christian.  When we put others ahead of ourselves, we emulate Christ.  This amazing man got it!

Hank woke again, this time more alert and talkative.  “Gonna go very shortly . . . one of my best days ever!”  Then he closed his eyes as the body released his soul for the peaceful journey home.

If you’re reading this, chances are you have a long way to go before you die.  So while you’re waiting, serve and worship Him.  Smile more in public, enjoy the laughter of small children, have a glass of wine with your spouse in the afternoon, share groceries with a stranger, visit a friend in the hospital.  Any definition of a successful life must include serving others.

My children, as much as you love living in a virtual world, sometimes a hug, a phone call, or a hand written thank you to a loved one is far more valuable than any social media ‘tweet.’  What are you waiting for?  Love, Your Father

Expect Less

“Labor cheerfully!  Work as though it’s the Lord you’re serving, not just an earthly master.” - - Ephesians 6:7

Stories that made her laugh to avoid crying, forced Joanne to admit that her mother, who just six weeks ago was the picture of independence, now required 24-hour care.  Mae’s husband died recently, making the move to a nursing home inevitable.  Today was moving day.

At 92, Mae’s face read like a roadmap of time – a memory in every wrinkle.  She was ready early, her hair fashionably coifed and makeup applied perfectly.  Despite her blindness, Mae remained handsome - a rare adjective for a lady but its meaning reflected a harmony of dignity, gracefulness and pride – the perfect description of this elegant woman.

Joanne on the other hand, was highly anxious.   People often regard nursing homes as their last stop before dying.  It’s got nothing to do with the quality of care, but truthfully they both knew Mae would never return to her "normal" life after today - a road they’d hoped to forever avoid. 

Guilt plagued Joanne.  Her Mom faced so many losses – independence, her church family, ordinary freedoms like laundry and cooking.  She’ll no long enjoy the children laughing, playing and occasionally arguing next door.

As they walked up the front steps and through the sliding doors, warm air smelling of bleach and body odor confronted them.  After registering with a polite but frosty attendant, they waited patiently in the lobby for several hours.  Mae smiled sweetly when told her room was ready.

As she maneuvered her walker toward the elevator, Joanne described the surroundings.

“I love it," Mae interrupted with the excitement of an eight-year-old having just received a new puppy.

"Mom - you haven't even seen your room yet,” cautioned her daughter.

"No need!" she replied.  "Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged, dear child - it's how I arrange my mind.  I already decided to love it!”  

“Every morning, I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with body parts that no longer work, or get up and be thankful for the ones that do.  Life’s a gift, and I’ve tried never to waste a moment of it!"

She continued, "Old age is like a bank account, you withdraw from what you've put in.  Never stop depositing happiness in your memory bank . . .  just for times like these."   

Years later, Mae joined the church eternal.  She knelt at the Lord’s throne and heard “Well done my good and faithful servant.’  She wasn’t congratulated for her many awards, the earthly treasures she’d accumulated, or her longevity.  She was welcomed to the streets of gold for living simply, giving more and expecting less.

Father, help us do everything without complaining so that we shine like the sun.  People are drawn to brightness and warmth – so help our interactions be full of grace, compassion, and encouragement to positively affect those around us.  Amen.

Sharing is Caring

“Do as God does; let love be your guide."  ~ Ephesians 5:1-2

One the other side of the Cancun’s "Ritz-Carlton," just 15 kilometers from downtown, live the city’s poorest families without electricity, running water, or other modern conveniences.  Domenique’s taxi came to a halt at a stoplight that seemed to take forever.  Kensie, her youngest daughter, sat close by taking in all the street commotion with intense curiosity.

A boy selling oranges appeared at the open window, begging them to purchase some fruit from him before the cab took off.  His full pouch suggested he hadn’t made any sales yet that day.  Domenique looked directly into his eyes, held the gaze briefly and wondered what he was thinking?

She found herself swimming into the dark pool of hopelessness that comes with perpetual hunger. His malnourished frame barely supported him.  Yet, there was a certain fearlessness staring right back at her; a reckless defiance that comes when there’s nothing in life you can call your own.  Except for the earth below his bare feet, and the open sky above, these children have no place to rest except the open arms of life itself.  

The boy’s belly had the distended look that comes with slow starvation: breakfast on good days was a mixture of sugar and water; dinner a dry piece of chapatti.  The rest is what his grubby fingers can rummage through trash ditched regularly by hotels near the slums.  Yesterday, he found a mango, half eaten on one side, and despite the rotting pulp, it tasted far better than anything he’d had in days.  He was luckier than some. 

She’s heard horror stories of homeless children forced into slavery.  One boy drug himself on crutches, she’d learned, because the Master amputated both legs when he was a baby.   The Master calls him his ‘premio’ beggar, because the money he earns exceeds the rest of the kids put together.  All the other little ‘beggars’ secretly envied him.

It’s a morbid existence . . . but it leaves Domenique admiring their resilience under such harsh conditions.  At night, no one comes to read or sing to them, or tuck them to bed.  Yet, not a word of complaint escapes those dry lips . . . or ruffles those sun burnt brows.  It doesn’t occur to them to question the bleak reality of their lives.  They know not to ask questions or even hope for answers.   

She reached for her Coach handbag.  Serendipitously, another girl appeared near the window to the right.  “Please help us,” she lamented as the baby on her hip bawled.  As Domenique paid for the oranges at one window, Kensie handed them out to the pleading children through the other.  For an instant, the world seemed in perfect balance.

Dear Lord, this is your son. I’m sad, hungry, and scared that I might hurt myself today. I think I’ve got a lot to offer in life, but I’m thinking of giving up, and coming home. Please show me Your way!                  ~ an Invisible Child

Second Chances

“His kindness is all you need.  His power is strongest when you are weak.” - - 2 Corinthians 12:9

The employer’s office was nothing special.  There were no decorative touches; not a single splash of color in sight.  The ceiling was a patchwork quilt of dingy acoustic tiles.  No carpet to soften Chauncey’s leg nervously tapping the tiled floor as the employer scanned his application.

He needed this job, ANY job for that matter.  But the odds worked against ex-cons.  Grand theft - it was stupid . . . there were circumstances . . . he wanted a fresh start.

The employer spoke in a predictably condescending tone.  “We’re a family owned business.  My Dad and I have others to consider, applicants who haven’t stolen.  I’m sorry.”

“You’re right,” Chauncey replied. “I’ll try hard to make things right this time.”  The employer looked away.  “Good luck,” he offered, then followed Chauncey out as if he’d steal something.

Outside, snow started to fall, so he pulled up his collar, tucked his hands into his pockets and ambled off into loneliness.  What a failure: 11 interviews, 11 identical outcomes.

Then he saw it – a wallet amid the sidewalk’s slush.  An answer to his prayers, it held several credit cards and a couple hundred in cash.  He could buy a present for his daughter Abby and maybe even his wife Janice.  Someday they’d be a family again.

Only one old man occupied the same side of the street.  A quick look at the license photo confirmed that he was its rightful owner.  Chauncey had stolen once out of necessity, but he wasn’t a thief.

“Excuse me, sir,” Chauncey yelled, jogging up behind the man. “I think you dropped your wallet.”

The man turned, his eyes widening with recognition. “Yes, of course,” and after a quick inventory, he said, “Thank you.” 

Chauncey walked on into the icy wind, he’d seen enough accusatory eyes today.  Approaching the halfway house, he noticed Janice out front and Abby racing toward him with open arms.

He hugged her like it was his job!  Then to Janice, his eyes moistened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get the job.”

“Honey,” she said, with a smile so reassuring that it choked him up.  “We’ve come to bring you home - that’s enough for us!”  Tears  trickled down his wind-burned cheeks. 

The door to the halfway house banged open.  Chauncey’s roommate flew out holding a cordless phone. “It’s for you buddy; a Mr. Roberts?”

Still holding Abby, Chauncey cradled the phone. “Yes?”

“The job’s yours if you want it,” said the employer.

“I do,” Chauncey replied, all the air escaping his chest.  “What made you change your mind?”

“A cup of coffee with my Dad; I think the two of you met recently.”

Lord, will you please point me in the direction that serves a greater good?  I’ve read Your promise that the door shall be opened to those who knock.  I’ve sinned, I’ve been humbled . . . I’m knocking!  Amen

Beyond Imagination

“Whoever has the Son, has life."  ~ 1 John 5:12

The gift was simple . . . tiny actually . . . but the promise it held was larger than life!  What made it so special was that it came from Leeza’s grandmother.  Gram had wrapped it in a beautiful scrap of red silk and given it to eight-year-old Leeza just before her “trip to heaven.”

Leeza had rushed to open it, but when only a tiny black seed fell out, curiosity gripped her.  What could this small black seed promise “beyond imagination,” she wondered?  Now two weeks after Gram had left on her “journey to Jesus,” Leeza clung to that promise.  What had Gram been thinking?  Choking back her disappointment, Leeza had hoped for one of Gram’s Hummel figurines instead.  

She found an old clay pot behind the shed and filled it with fresh spring soil.  Placing the seed deep into the dirt, she thought of Gram.  Oh how she missed her!  Tears of gratitude spilled from her cheeks, gently watering the seed’s new home.

She remembered Gram’s smile, the fun they had baking cookies together, playing Scrabble, ‘flying’ on the swing at the park.  Gram always made time for her; they shared every milestone.  Her love was endless, her hugs divine.  God used those last few days with her to bring everyone joy, knowing He had a special place reserved for her.   

As the days and weeks passed, Leeza cared for the seed.  She placed the pot in a sunny spot, watered it, and waited.  Soon a tiny plant poked its head above the soil and drank in the rays of sunlight, growing taller and stronger with each day.  Eventually it bloomed into a beautiful red poppy – just like the ones Gram had grown in her garden!

Waking up near her little flower every morning was like hearing Gram say, “I love you!”  But one morning, the poppy began to wilt and hang its head.  Leeza watered it more and moved it to a sunnier spot.  Despite her best efforts, the little poppy shriveled and died.  Leeza couldn’t bear to part with it, but there on her window sill, it brought back thoughts of Gram’s illness and death.  Regretfully, Leeza decided to discard the remains of her ‘little friend.’  As she did though, tiny specks began to fall  . . . tiny black seeds!

She smiled; it all made perfect sense now.    Gram’s real gift was a lesson about life, a lesson wrapped in the red scarf of Christ’s love.  The seed of our life continues to live even after death and leaves even more seeds behind for planting in the hearts of others.  Truly this Easter, He is the gift “beyond imagination.”

Lord Jesus, just like a flower, our earthly bodies will shrivel and die, but because of the gift of your Son, life continues.  The seeds we plant in this life will remain - seeds of memories, seeds of love, seeds of inspiration which hold eternal life.  Amen

Go Figure!

“Integrity is what we do, what we say, and what we say we do.  ~ Don GalerI

Ed was tired – in fact he was ready to re-tire.  A skilled carpenter for most of his 60+ years, he enjoyed his craft.  Examples of his work could be found all over the county – and his jobs could easily be identified by his attention to details.  It was time to fix up their own house, a promise made to his wife years ago and neglected due to frequently over-promising others.

He’d miss the paycheck of course, but he wanted to enjoy a more leisure lifestyle and spend more time with his wife and extended family.  What the heck, he had good health.  They’d get by.

When told of Ed’s plans to leave the home construction business, his employer asked if he would build just one more house – as a personal favor.  Reluctantly, Ed agreed.  But only one more!

From the outset however, it was easy to see that Ed’s heart was not longer in his work.  In his mind, he already checked out; he had lost much of his enthusiasm and had resorted to shoddy workmanship using inferior materials.  Every day was a challenge – he labored to finish quickly.  It was a shameful way to end his career.

Finally Ed finished the job.  Funny – in 45 years he had never really considered his work a ‘job.’  Maybe he should have quit when . . .  His boss, the general contractor, came to inspect the new house.   “You’ve been a great asset to this company Ed,” he complimented.  “Not only are you an accomplished craftsman, but an inspirational teacher as well.  Therefore, it’s with great appreciation that I give you the keys to your new house, my friend, as my gift to you."

Ed stood stunned, what a shame!  If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently, with greater care, with better materials.  Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.

So it is with us.  We build our lives often distracted; reacting rather than thinking, willing to put forward less than our very best.  Then we’re shocked at the consequences that we created ourselves: poor health, financial stress, broken families, senseless addictions, empty God-less lives.  If we’d realized, we would have done it differently by taking better care of ourselves, spending within our means, following His Word.

Life is a do-it-yourself project.  Your life tomorrow will be the result of choices you’ve made today.  So watch your actions, they become habits.  Watch your habits, for they define character.   And guard your Character, for it becomes your Destiny.

Carpenter Lord, integrity is a lifelong battle.  Help us build wisely, for it’s the only life we will ever build.  Even if we live just one more day, remind us to live it justly, to love others mercifully, and to walk humbly before You.  Amen.