Friday, May 29, 2009

The Weeping Prophet

We are about a third of the way through a series of talks on Sunday mornings that are all about dealing with the truth on a personal level in our lives. It is relatively easy to deal with truth at arms length in a clinical type manner, especially when it doesn’t really touch us. But to really allow the truth in and to allow it to ‘have its way with us’ is a different story. It is hard to hear the truth. And then to be willing to trust God enough to speak it out to others is something else again, but for the same reason – it’s hard for others to hear the truth.

These are hard things. In the course of my reflections on the subject, and briefly last Sunday, I have been caused to think about the prophet Jeremiah. He was called to speak the truth at a time when it was very hard to hear.

The truth involved the people’s sin and the destruction that lay in the path ahead because of it. Jeremiah didn’t win any popularity contests. He paid the price for telling the truth and earned the nick name, the ‘weeping prophet’. But the reason that Jeremiah grieved so, was not just because of how people viewed him and treated him. The real reason that Jeremiah wept so was because the people had lost their ability to do so. He wept for the people, not just because of them. They were so blind and hardened that they had lost the capacity for real remorse and genuine repentance.

My attention has been focused on the calling that Jeremiah received from God. It is found in the first chapter of his book. It is similar in nature to the calling received by others (check out Isaiah 6 for example). The thing that has really caught my attention however is this part:

“Then the LORD reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, "Now, I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant." Jeremiah 1:9,10

What has impressed me about this is how necessary it is to tear down before we can build up; to uproot before we can plant. So often in our lives we try and make changes for the better, trying to add good things if you will, while being either unaware or unwilling to ‘root out’ the things that have to go. For Jeremiah, he realized that the nation had become so corrupt that it needed to be swept away into captivity in order for a fresh start to occur.

But, while he is called the ‘weeping prophet’, Jeremiah was not a pessimist. He had hope and his message was ultimately a message of hope.

“This is what the Lord says: "When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my gracious promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you," declares the Lord, "and will bring you back from captivity.” Jer 29:10-14

So too, in our lives, we need this kind of hope. We need the hope that when we face the hard things and learn to allow God to tear down the walls and the strongholds in our lives that he will use the debris to build a bridge to Him. That is ultimately what God wants to do. He wants to use our brokenness to refine us and to bring us into a closer relationship with Him and with one another.

The saying is true - If we keep doing what we are doing, we will keep getting what we’ve got. If we really want to see positive change in our lives, some stuff is going to have to go. I pray God will show us exactly what those things are. If we judge ourselves, we will not be judged.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Losing Time

Last Sunday, as our corporate worship time came to a close, I walked from the platform to the lobby. I sat my Bible and my day planner on the small cabinet beside the exit door. For the next hour or so, I did what I usually do. I enjoyed conversing with people as they visited around talking with others, having coffee and slowly making their way to their cars to head off for the rest of their day.

As I was preparing to leave too for a lunch invitation I had received (Florence was still away), I walked over to the cabinet to quickly grab my things. My planner was gone. My Bible was still right where I put it, but the planner was nowhere to be seen. Of course, I started to look round for it and as others saw me looking they also joined in the search. We couldn’t find it anywhere. At last I had to give up the hunt because I had people waiting for me. I concluded that either a small child might have taken an interest in it (though unlikely) or someone had scooped it up with some of their stuff by mistake.

I took the time to call Wanda and asked her to please send a note out to our church family asking them to be on the look out for it, and to call if they found it. All afternoon I lived with what could be called a low grade panic. I was able to concentrate and enjoy the company of friends that afternoon, but I have to admit that all the while, there was a bit of nagging anxiety just under the surface… Would it turn up? What if it didn’t?

Most people who know me, get some sense of amusement over my ‘attachment’ to my ‘day-timer’. I take it with me wherever I go (yes, even the bathroom) and sleep with it beside me on the night stand. And the thought of it being lost was definitely creating ‘attachment anxiety’.

And of course, all the while I’m trying to analyze the situation and understand it for what it is and the implications for my life over the course of the next several months at least. I decided that I would be just fine, but that I couldn’t say the same for all the people I would disappoint. I could visualize them sitting and waiting for me to show up for something while I was off somewhere doing something else totally oblivious to the commitment I had made to be there for them… weddings, ministry appointments, meetings, coffee dates … not to mention all of the other information in there … phone numbers, contact information, scheduling issues, reminders…

Late in the afternoon I had a thought and called Bill and Ann. Ann graciously agreed to sort through the bag of garbage that they had taken home for quicker disposal. My hunch paid off. Apparently what had happened is that somehow it got bumped off of the cabinet and had fallen into the waste basket and then got covered up with other items. It is a little worse for wear with the coffee stains and all, but the information is all in tact and it is still usable.

And so, all is well in the world today now that I have my day planner back!

The whole thing got me thinking about how much my life is now about others. There was a time when I didn’t even need a watch, let alone a planning calendar. Those days are long gone. Today, and for a great many years now, my life largely consists of being there for other people. Yes, there is a lot of ‘weight’ that comes with that and I do take it very serious. I won’t lie to you. It is often overwhelming… phone calls… emails… visits… meetings … planning… speaking… caring … In some sense it is true that ‘my whole life’ is in that book.

Someone said, “Time is the essence of life - if you love life, don’t waste time.” The Bible puts it this way: “Be very careful, then, how you live - not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity…”

Thursday, May 7, 2009

The Phone Call No One Wants

This past Sunday was not an unusual day. It all seemed pretty normal… until I arrived home at mid-afternoon and the message light on our phone was blinking. I took the phone and pushed the buttons and the voice on the answering service instantly transformed my relatively normal day into something that can only be called surreal.

“Steve, it’s Tanya. Chris was crushed by a front-end loader and it’s really bad and we’re in the ambulance right now heading for the QEII.”

Her voice was not quite hysterical but it was obvious that she was ‘scared to death’. Some of you know what it’s like to get a call like that. Chris is our youngest child. He has two older sisters and he’s really special to all of us. We love him dearly and hate the thought of having him endure anything like this, and the mere thought of being without him was, well, unthinkable.

His mom, with her sister Sandra, had left for Ontario for two weeks the day before to visit with some family there. For me, the 1 ½ hour drive to the QEII in Halifax that day was probably the longest drive I’ve ever taken, even though I’ve driven across the continent several times. The fact that I had to make the trip alone made it harder. I didn’t know really how bad ‘really bad’ was going to end up being, but it sure sounded really bad. That made it harder. And the fact that his mom was now hundreds of miles away and had no idea what was going on at home made it harder again. One of the many thoughts that kept trying to overwhelm my mind was this one – what kind of phone call am I going to have to make to his mom?

They say that even people who say they don’t really believe in God pray at times like that. Well, I do believe in God. Not only that, I’ve committed my life, not only to knowing Him personally, but making Him known to others, where I can. And so, yes, you bet I prayed. I prayed all the way there, all the time with prayers pushing and pushing and pushing thoughts and worries of what could be happening out of my mind, forcing myself to focus on God in His greatness, mercy and love. I prayed for Chris and for Tanya and for Florence and for our family. And lots of others prayed too, because I took a moment before leaving the house to place a quick call asking for the prayers of God’s people. I’m grateful for you.

Several hours later, the test results were finally in and, although he has massive bruising and five broken ribs, he is going to be ok. I prayed again, this time, giving thanks. Of course, I have also found myself wondering ‘what if’ too. Because it doesn’t always turn out this way does it. People endure great personal losses and injuries and sorrows and grief that is, well, unthinkable.

And sometimes it’s difficult to process all of this. What are the lessons? What are we supposed to think? I’m still thinking that through, but I have figured some things out. Life is precious, and at any moment of time (we never know) God reserves the right to remind us of just how precious it is. And life is fragile. We are not the masters of our own fate that we often tend to think we are. At any moment it can all be over. And life, in this world anyway, is temporary. Someday, we don’t know when, we will suddenly find ourselves standing before God, and on that day all of life as we know it in this world will be like a snapshot against the backdrop of eternity. And it will all be obvious, judged, as if in a moment, as to whether we really made it count for Him or not.

Chris, if you’re reading this, I love you son. We love you. And we are so glad you’re going to be ok. The Lord has been very good to us. He has been very good to you. Praise His Name.