Patience

Do you know a synonym from the Bible for patience? How about long suffering? That pretty well defines patience for me--to suffer long. I fear I am not a patient man by nature.

I should be patient; I grew up in a very small town (it doesn't even qualify as a town; it is officially a village). If something was going to happen in my home town, you had to wait for it, and if you weren't careful, you missed it. And we did not have a store, a gas station, or, until I was a teenager, a soda machine. If you wanted anything, you had to wait to go to the town where I went to High School 12 miles away--which had 1,400 people. That was the happening place. K-Mart and a grocery store with more than 5 aisles was 30 miles distant. And I'm not ancient, people--we're talking the 80's and 90's!

Another reason I should be patient is my two older sisters. Their idea of fun at the end of the school year was to have me sit at a makeshift desk and play 'school.' They were also my transportation, when they were old enough to drive and I was not. Think I ever had to wait to go somewhere? Yah, maybe! And along the same lines, I have been outnumbered my entire life. I have two sisters, no brothers. I entered a profession (physical therapy) which is traditionally female dominated. I have two daughters, one son. That alone should have created a patient man; but it has not.

Or maybe it has. The past two weekends, I have traversed a pitch-black river 5 hours before daylight just to claim a desired hunting spot. What did we do for five hours? We waited. Patiently. Suffering long. My before-mentioned children--13, 9, and 6--have required some degree of patience. Have you ever watched 5-year olds play soccer? That is long suffering! I think youth soccer is partly God's answer to my prayers for patience. As they say, be careful what you pray for!

Now, my patience is being tested again. I have entered a bizarre netherworld know as Publishing. In this place, time is warped, if it exists at all. My oldest sister brought home from the Army the phrase, "Hurry up to wait." She said they had to run everywhere they went, only to wait once they got there. That's kind of how I feel now. I spent months, even years, staying up half the night (or more) to write, edit, rewrite, revise, rearrange, rewrite . . . you get the point . . . at fever pitch to be able to send a manuscript into this strange world of publishing. And now? I wait. Suffering. Long.

A strange thing, this patience. A strange thing indeed!

Broken

Have you ever been broken? I mean truly, completely, without hope and irreparably broken? Your soul pours out of a fractured heart, tears cascade in floods from swollen eyes, and no touch nor word can reach you. That's broken.

We all deserve to be broken; some of us have been, the rest of us will be.

Christ was broken for us, and if we are to accept His salvation, we must be broken for Him. That which is in us, and is us, must, without doubt and exception, be completely broken if we are to have the hope of His healing touch. We must die to ourselves in order to live through Him. If that is not broken, I don't know what is.

What does it feel like to be broken? Lonely. Agonizing. Guilt, shame, disgust . . . The list goes on. It is a miserable, wretched experience; and it can seem to go on forever. The stronger we are, the harder we break. But when the breach occurs . . . It is cataclysmic. Everything gives at once; our very foundations seem to give way beneath us. We are in free fall.

But do you know what is on the other side? Grace. Mercy. Forgiveness. Peace. Rest. All there, waiting for us to give up on ourselves and rely on Christ. He is waiting, waiting to wipe away every tear, heal every wound, mend every broken and fractured piece of our soul.

Waiting for us to break.

How Far Have You Gone?

Where I live, hunting is a Fall ritual in which I eagerly and wholeheartedly participate. For me, it is a sport of camaraderie and friendship, physical and mental challenge, and an opportunity to partake of the beauty of God's creation. It also provides some interesting lessons.

Yesterday, I harvested a banded Canada goose. The band was worn thin, tarnished by time and weather; this was obviously an old goose. I was excited to report the band and find out where this goose had started life. Bands are often collected from all over the United States and even Canada. I anticipated learning that my goose had, at least from her perspective, seen the world. I was wrong.

She was banded in 2002 in Manito, Illinois. That was less than 10 miles (as a goose flies) from where I hunted. In all likelihood, she had never moved beyond a 50 mile radius, and perhaps much less, in those 12 years. Canadian geese used to migrate, breeding and nesting in the northern US, wintering in the South and even Mexico. But there is an emerging pattern in the goose population where geese never migrate. They find a place where they are comfortable, and stay there their entire lives. They are called resident geese, and are the ones you see around golf courses, urban fountain pools, etc. They never go very far from where they began life, and they teach their offspring the same. That got me thinking.

How many of us appear to have gone far in our lives, but in reality never wander far from where we started? I am not speaking of geography, but rather growth and maturity. We are created to, metaphorically speaking, go places and do things. God's design is for us to travel a path which leads us far from where we begin in our beliefs and understanding of Him to a place of maturity and service. But many never do. Just like those resident geese, we become complacent in a place where we are comfortable, and because of that, miss out on the opportunities and challenges which lead us to greater growth. We become a population of resident Christians because we never go anywhere, and through our example, we teach our children to do the same.

This is a dangerous pattern, and one we must resist. Never stop growing, moving, changing. Face challenges as opportunities for growth and maturity. You might just be surprised by where God takes you.

Absence Makes The Heart Grow . . . Fainter

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

That little gem of wisdom has been around for eons, and still has the ring of truth to it. But, as with all things, too much of a good thing is, well, not good.

First, let's examine the truth of the saying. Scientific study has given credence to our little ditty above mentioned; absence does in fact make the heart grow fonder. When an object of desire is removed from our reach, we desire it all the more. We've all experienced this, whether it be time away from a spouse, child or friend, or perhaps the longing of Summer during the cold grip of Winter. Taken away from that which we long to hold close, we yearn ever so strongly to have it returned.

Until time takes its toll.

When said desire is taken from us too far, too long, too often, we begin to replace it. This is our nature, our way; when it comes to fulfilling desires of the heart, our attention span quickly wanes. Our hearts, our desires will be fulfilled, if not with that which we originally sought, then with something else. Nature, and the human psyche, abhor a vacuum. The voids within us labeled as desires will be filled, one way or another.

This is all to say that while temporary absence makes the heart grow fonder, prolonged absence leads the longing of the heart to grow faint. Stories of long-lost lovers notwithstanding, long distance relationships face an uphill battle. And distance need not be measured by miles.

Whether it be in your relationship with your spouse, child, family, friends, or God--take pains to keep your absences short. The resulting emptiness, if too long unattended, will surely be drifted over by something else. And rarely are replacement parts as good as the original.

What We've Got Here Is A Failure To Communicate

You wouldn't think, in an age of Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, email, texts, and any number of other social media that we could possibly have a communication problem. I mean, really--there has never been a greater ability to communicate with anyone, anywhere, than there is today. We have instant access to myriad forms of information exchange, so there should be no problem, right?

Wrong.

Sadly, that is very, very wrong. I contend that one of the greatest downfalls of our society, and societies around the developed world, is our inability to effectively communicate with each other. Oh, we communicate, all right; but the key is effective communication. There is a big difference.

We have all heard the stats; non-verbal communication constitutes at least 2/3 of what we convey to each other. When we only communicate via electronic devices, we lose that. What we are left with is 1/3 of what we are trying to say. Try living off 1/3 of your paycheck and see how effective that is!

Also, when that 1/3 is reduced to 180 characters or less, we further remove vital pieces of emotion, nuance, and personality, cutting the very heart out of our intended message. Adding an emoticon at the end of a text just doesn't cut it, folks:(

What we are left with is a sterile, voiceless, nearly meaningless jumble of abbreviations, half sentences, and auto-correct nightmares. The result is a total failure to communicate, and the effect on society is . . . devastating.

That is not even broaching the subject of what staring at electrified pixels is doing to our brains and the brains of our children, and our ability to have a true face-to-face conversation. Take a look around the next time you are in a restaurant and see how many are talking, and how many are staring at their smart phones. Sadly, the cliche, "My phone is smarter than me," isn't far from the truth anymore.

I do not miss the irony of posting this diatribe on a blog, which I will then link to Facebook. But as Paul said, "When in Rome . . ." 

I'm not sure what the answer to this problem is, but I am sure that it is not to continue down the road we are on. Take time to look someone in the eye, think about what you want to say, and express it fully. You just might be surprised at the result.

Rain, Rain, Go Away . . .

Rain, rain, go away; come again some other day.

Like maybe next year! We've had our fill for now, haven't we? Here in Central Illinois, everything is flooded. Everywhere along the streets we see hoses and pipes running full stream as sump pumps run incessantly to fight the deluge invading our basements. For some, unfortunately, that has been a losing battle. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt to prove it. Well, maybe not the shirt part, but you get my gist . . .

Sometimes I have to wonder about the rain in our lives. Not the literal rain that falls from the sky, but that other type of rain, the flood of events that enter our lives which is sometimes a blessing, and other times, well, it's just too much of a good thing.

Take challenges, for instance. Challenges are opportunities, as the saying goes, which help us grow and improve. Like an athlete in training, without challenges we would never become stronger, never be faster, never be better at what we are trying to accomplish. If never tested, we never become more than we are. We become stagnate, stale, and frankly, risk losing the race. Rain in the form of challenges is good.

Until it becomes an overwhelming flood.

We've all been there, when so many "opportunities for growth and improvement" are thrown at us that feel like we are, indeed, drowning. We become so deeply immersed in the tidal wave of challenges that the waters of opportunity become a quagmire of anxiety, exhaustion, and failure.

That is when I call out, "Rain, rain, go away . . ."

What I really do is call out to God. I ask Him to either stop the flood or give me the strength to face each challenge in a way that is glorifying to Him and, secondly, strengthening for me. The story of Job is a good example of that. If ever a man was challenged, it was Job. His flood of opportunities were meant to prove his faithfulness to God, and he won the race. Do you think Job was stronger on the other side of his experience? I sure do.

So, when the floods come, I try to think of Job. I pray that in my life I never face such a cataclysmic flood as did he, but if I ever do, I ask God that He give me the strength to battle the currents long enough to finish the race, and be stronger on the other side.

Faithfulness in the Face of Fear

Sometimes it seems that God asks for a lot. I have two friends who are missionaries in West Africa. They are currently in Dakar, Senegal. Right across the street from the university where the guy from Guinea showed up with Ebola.

Scary, right?

Oh, and they have two children, 1 and 3, with them.

Holy smokes, Batman, I'm outta here!

That would likely be my response. I mean, nothing is worth risking my life and the lives of my family in the face of a contagious, incurable disease, right?

Wrong.

Want to know what my friends are asking? Not what is safest, not what is best for them or their family, not what other people think, but rather, "What does God want us to do?"

It's not like they do not understand the situation, or that they are ignorant of the risks; they know fear, but they simply have the bigger picture plainly in view. God put them there for a reason, and they want to be very sure He is ready for them to leave before they do so. They want, more than anything, to be faithful to God's will.

Faithfulness. Fear. How often they seem to go together.

I pray that I never have to make a decision like the one my friends are faced with, but if I do, I pray that I will have the courage to consider God's will before my own, just like our friends are doing. I also realize, that even if I do not face a decision of the gravity of theirs, I make decisions every day that concern God. Everything concerns God, therefore every decision I make concerns Him as well. That made me stop and think: How often do I respond out of fear rather than faithfulness?

I fear what people may think, therefore I refrain from expressing my beliefs. I fear being the outcast, therefore I join the crowd. I fear rejection, therefore I isolate. Nowhere in there is faith to be found. Faith in God who can do all things. Faith in God who pulled Lot's family from Sodom. Faith in God who preserved Daniel in a den of lions. Faith in God who delivered Peter from prison. Faith in God who can protect a missionary family from a deadly virus.

"Be strong and courageous," God told Joshua. "Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." That from Joshua 1:9. Faithfulness in the face of fear.

Pray for Guy and his family that they would hear God's voice and have the courage to answer his call, whatever his will may be.