Sabbath

I believe in the Ten Commandments, and I also believe that they are foundational in our Judeo-Christian beliefs and legal system. I had to get that all straight before I launch into this one.

Occasionally my wife tells me that I should honor the Sabbath and rest. The fourth commandment is clear and dear to me and says that I should honor God by resting on the Sabbath. I do not ever want to hurt my witness with someone saying that I am dishonoring God, but I have an interpretation of what constitutes rest that may be different than others. Cheryl thinks of rest as napping, reading, lounging around, etc. I don’t like naps; I don’t like to sit inside and just stare outside. I like to be outside. I think of rest as working outside—tending to my animals or garden or pasture. I get great pleasure in working with God’s creations and God’s good earth. Working outside is like therapy to me. When I am caring for my animals or caring for our garden or even driving the tractor, I don’t consider any of that as work.

Anyone who knows my mom and dad understands me better. My parents are still going strong—or at least I think it is strong for their age. They embedded a strong work ethic in me. They picked butterbeans in their garden right beside Cheryl and me during a recent visit. As I worked my way through the bean patch, my back was hurting and I was on my knees most of the time, but I knew better than to complain.  My mom and dad were right in there with us.

The challenge for me comes with the definition of rest and of work. I agree that most everyone would define it just as Cheryl would—refraining from anything that smells like work. Rest can mean a lot of things: a rhythmic silence in music, what a column does on a foundation, sleep, stopping all activity that causes exertion, what farmland does when no crop is planted on it, etc.

I think of rest as a time of recovering strength. It would seem strange if you saw me sweating while doing some of my “resting.” My time outside is a refreshing of my mind, body and soul. Some of my best quiet times with God are when I am “working” on the farm.

This afternoon I picked peas from our garden. I sweated something fierce. It started raining, and I did not stop. I was soaking wet with sweat and rain, but I continued to pick—and I loved it. Was it work? Maybe for some people, but for me it was perspiration therapy. I brought the peas up to the house and I invited three granddaughters to help me shell them. For an hour we talked and shelled peas. No TV was on and the only entertainment was us talking with each other and telling stories about things we have done together this summer. Was it work? Not for me and I don’t think it was for the girls either. It was fun!

Now there are some chores on our hobby farm that I definitely consider work—mowing grass and running the weed trimmer. I don’t do things like that on Sunday as I consider that work. Picking blueberries or feeding my goats – that’s not work for me.

Cheryl and I have just spent a week of vacation with two grandchildren at a Christian Dude Ranch in Colorado. I left my computer at home. Several of the guests asked me for a business card, but I did not take any with me. I had a Sabbath Week. For the first time in years I read an entire novel in one week. I relaxed, but I admit that I thought about all that email that was piling up in my inbox. It is now late Sunday evening, and I am typing on my computer. I want desperately to work on some of that email, but I am trying hard not to “work.” Can it wait until tomorrow morning? Yes, but it will be a very hard Monday. As bad as I want to do email, I am not going to do so because I feel convicted that would be work and it would not be a good example for my colleagues.

As I have been typing, the sun has set. The Sabbath is over. So, should I do that email?!?

Pet peeves

Do you have a pet peeve? I do. Some of them make me sound so paranoid that I won’t admit them in this post. As a matter of fact, as I share one of my pet peeves, some of you will probably think, “So, that was so paranoid, wonder ‘bout the ones he did not share.”

OK, so here is one: a church bulletin or a printed program (wedding, funeral, graduation, etc) that lists a certain Winthrop Luper on program along with Elmira Dothan, Dr. Bartholomew Pierce, and Samuel Hogan. Notice anything wrong? One person has a title while the others do not. Now that probably does not bother many of you, but it really bothers me.

Everyone is equally important, so everyone should be treated in the same manner: If you are going to give one person in the program a title, then you must give titles to all of them. Makes sense to me!

I think the worst offenders of this are churches, and I will go so far to say that too many pastors are very proud to boast of their “doctorate” before or after their names. Our pastor asks to be called “Pastor David,” not Dr. (last name). I like that.

Everybody doesn’t have a bold title like “Doctor” or “Professor,” but everyone has the distinction of being a creation of God. Every person’s face into which we have ever gazed is one made in the image of God. Particularly as I travel I look into faces many days thinking, Wow! God made that face! It is absolutely amazing that apart from identical twins, no two faces are exactly the same. Even those people who do very nasty things in our world are ones who the Heavenly Father loves just like you and me. God doesn’t show partiality for the way faces look.

My responsibility is clear: to love the Lord my God with all my heart and to love my neighbor (ALL those faces) as I love myself. Nuff said.

Job

I have been in a drought with posting on this blog. I have even felt guilty for not writing, but I have been determined not to force myself to write. Even if there is no one out there reading this I need to write for myself—for broadening my heart and my mind.

I compose a lot of blogs that don’t make it onto the computer screen—most of them while working outside on the farm, in the shower or driving. Even though they don’t make it to a written state, they are still good for the stretching I need.

In Sunday School class we have been studying Job. I wasn’t really looking forward to this study but I have surprisingly enjoyed it. I have learned a lot of good lessons from studying Job.

Right off the bat we find that when someone experiences tragedy, sometimes the best thing we can do is just to be present. Job’s three friends responded. They came to minister to Job. We learn from them that it is not necessary to say a lot, but being there for a loved one or friend is very important. Some of the best bonding that I have had with some friends was when I was just there for them during a crisis. I did not really DO much at all. I was just there. Some of the biggest mistakes that I have made were when I decided not to be there for someone because I was too busy or I did not think it was important.

Another lesson learned is that I can talk too much. Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar did well with their first assignment to just be there, but then, later in the story, they talked too much. I mean after you tell a guy what a horrible person he is for hiding sin that he knows he did not commit, and you keep sending the same message over and over---that’s an overload.

Have you ever talked about something—or someone—so much that you suddenly realized that you have over talked? Been there and it is hard to get out gracefully.

Finally, Job’s three friends spoke with authority, but they were not always speaking the truth. They falsely accused Job. Ordinarily I am bold in talking with people, and I don’t mind confrontation if it is healthy and helps both parties to grow.  But I couldn’t have done what E, B and Z did. They left themselves wide open for rebuttals from Job because he knew that they were not telling the truth. They spoke with authority, but not truth. Proverbs 12:17 states, “Whoever speaks the truth gives honest evidence, but a false witness utters deceit.”

I think that E, B and Z may have needed a dose of our New Testament teaching in Matthew 7:1-5 about criticizing others while not examining our own lives. E, B and Z should have been concerned about calling attention to their friend’s sins when they may not have had their own heart right with the Lord. Amazing how easy it is to see other people’s faults!

Turtle

Today is a holiday and Cheryl and I have been working outside. She ran the weedeater and I pushed the mower along the fences. I really don’t like to mow grass—duh! Who does? It is not so bad when all our equipment is working properly, but our riding lawnmower is waiting to be repaired, so I have to use the push mower while it is out of commission.

I was praying and pushing this morning, and I stopped instantly when I saw a turtle stuck in the fence. Some people call this type of wire “range fencing” or some people call it “hog wire.” It has small rectangular panels and the rather large turtle was lodged in one of the rectangular panels that was even with the ground. The turtle was dead. It had apparently been trying with all its might to move forward, but it was impossible because its body was wider than the clearing in the wire. Interestingly enough, if the turtle had just walked backwards it might have saved itself.

As I continued to push the mower I thought about that dead turtle. If he had only stopped trying to push itself through the fence and used a small amount of energy to go backwards, it might have backed out of the fence and lived another day.

I decided that I am a lot like that turtle. My ability to move fast and bring a task to completion is sometimes an asset. I totally get the part about moving forward and not looking back. Once I make up my mind to buy something, I am not one of those persons who search around to see if he gets the best buy. I research, I make a decision, I buy and never compare again.

I know all the scriptures about moving forward and not dwelling on the past (Isaiah 43:18-19, Philippians 3:12-14, 2 Corinthians 5:17, and others). But my inclination to move forward fast can be a liability. This is what the turtle taught me: I tend to move so fast that I don’t take time to think about the process. Like the turtle I am working so hard to move forward that I don’t even think about the predicament, much less about taking a step backward. I get caught up in the moving forward so much that I do so at all costs. Thank you, Lord, for reminding me to remember the situation, remember the process, and remember not to move forward too fast.

Details

The story is told of three men who were sentenced to die by the guillotine. There was a pastor, a lawyer and an engineer. Each of them had an opportunity to say something before their execution. The pastor raised his hands and said, “May God have mercy on us all.” The executioner moved him into position for his execution. As the guillotine came down it abruptly stopped just before severing the pastor’s head from his body. The pastor was set free.

The lawyer stepped up and cried out to the crowd, “Justice for all.” The blade of the guillotine again stopped just before falling on his neck. The lawyer was also allowed to go free.

The engineer stepped up for his last words and said, “If you would just tighten those two bolts on the right side then this contraption would work perfectly!”

I am in India working with business men and women who want their businesses to make a difference for the Kingdom. I was asked to give a devotional this morning at the beginning of the day. I talked about some rules for living, and one of the points that I made was to pay attention to detail. Jesus paid attention to detail: in Mark 5:25-34, a woman who had a hemorrhage was in the crowd. She worked hard to get near Jesus, and she touched Jesus’ garment. Jesus turned and said “Who touched my garment?” Jesus paid attention to detail.

I probably pay more attention to details than the average person. My wife would probably tell you that I only pay attention to things that need to be done in the house: “Honey, did you see that cobweb in the corner?” or “Wow, the pollen has really covered things in the house.” Yes, those type comments usually get me in hot water.

When someone asks me to read something for feedback they usually mean for me to look at content or theme concerns. However, when I read it I cannot help but edit the document (if it is not terribly written—I have actually told some people that I can’t read the document until it is written in a more intelligible manner).

Maybe I am a bit overboard with details, but I learn a lot paying attention to details. I believe that it is usually necessary to pay attention to details to achieve excellence.

God is all about details. If you don’t believe it, sit down in a public place where there are a lot of people moving past you and start studying peoples’ faces. You will not see two people with the same features. That does not seem so awesome unless you are where I am now. I have been doing a lot of walking in Bangalore—fighting jet lag as I was in Kyrgyzstan for a week, then back in Georgia for four days, then back to Asia. Yes, that is crazy, but necessary to fulfill my commitments.

There are well over a billion people in India and only 8 million of them live in this city. I think all of them are on the streets at 5 pm as that is the time that I have been walking the past two days. I am telling you it amazes me to look into the faces of all these Indians and not see any two who look alike. God is in the details! He made all of us in his image, but He made all of us to look different from the other and the amazing thing is that there are not a lot of square inches on a human’s face. I mean, there is only so many things you can do with a chin, right?!

Celebrate! We are all alike in the image of God, but we are all different to our human eyes. God is all about the details.

Listening and hearing

Cheryl had been telling me that my hearing was not good. I thought I was hearing very well, but after she continued to mention my diminished hearing capacity, I decided to get a hearing test.

During my annual physical I asked the nurse if they did hearing tests and she said I would have to go to a special lab for a hearing test. So, I made an appointment for the hearing exam. The young lady administered the test, and I responded to the commands. When we had finished, I impatiently waited for the results.

She soon came to me with a report. She said, “Mr. Cox, you have perfect hearing.” I couldn’t believe it, and I could hardly wait to get home to tell Cheryl.

Arriving at home I proudly announced to Cheryl that I had my hearing test that day and I said to her: “Guess what! I have perfect hearing.” In a blink Cheryl responded to me, “Then, there is something wrong with your listening!”

Ouch! That hurt. I walked directly into that.

Listen and hear—two very common English words that we use every day. Defining one of these terms is often done by using the other. So, what is the difference in listening and hearing? I can make a case for either in the “which comes first” argument, but I like the difference that Solomon stated in 2 Chronicles 6.

In chapter 5, Solomon and his followers had just finished their great work on the temple and the elders had brought the Ark of the Covenant into the temple. Solomon addressed his people in chapter 6. He declares the glory of the Lord and how the promise God made to his father, David, had been fulfilled with the construction of the temple. This is the prayer of dedication of the house built for God.

I am struck by the message in verses 19-21: “Yet have regard to the prayer of your servant and to his plea, O Lord my God, listening to the cry and to the prayer that your servant prays before you, ²⁰ that your eyes may be open day and night toward this house, the place where you have promised to set your name, that you may listen to the prayer that your servant offers toward this place. ²¹ And listen to the pleas of your servant and of your people Israel, when they pray toward this place. And listen from heaven your dwelling place, and when you hear, forgive.”

Solomon is addressing God, no less, saying that God listens to the pleas of His servant and His people, and when He hears, He forgives His people. I am sure that there is a lot of theology here that we could debate, but the important thing in reading and meditating on scripture is what we get out of it that makes us a better servant and follower of God. So, here’s what I get that helps me: we do a lot of listening, but not a lot of hearing takes place. How many times has this happened to you: someone says, “Did you hear that?” And our response is “I was not listening.” Lord, as I am listening to the sounds of this day, may I hear You speaking to me. May I listen to my loved ones, friends and colleagues so that I may hear their hearts with mine.”

Worrying

When we departed Mississippi to go serve as missionaries for the first time, we said goodbye to our families, and we assumed that we would not see any of them for four years. Traveling overseas today is so very common that it is hard to remember that nearly 40 years ago most people who traveled internationally were wealthy. Today the airports are packed with business travelers, people going on vacation and those visiting relatives.

We departed for language school in France, and we left our parents weeping at the gate—long ago, greeting passengers and saying goodbye at the gate were common experiences—knowing that we would not see them for a very long time. What we did not count on was that our parents would be highly motivated to come see us as we had the only grandchildren on either side of the family—Jason was 3 and Jeremy was almost 2. The real surprise was that my parents decided to come spend Christmas with us after we had been away for only 6 months.

My parents’ travel experience included trips to the Mississippi Gulf Coast, Rock City, Smoky Mountains, and to west Texas to visit with relatives. So I never dreamed that they would come to France to visit us. But they sold a few cows and an old pickup and bought three tickets (for them and my baby brother who was 13 at that time).

We drove from Tours to Paris to pick them up at the fairly new terminal at Charles de Gaulle airport. It is the “old” one now with the escalators in the center of the building where you can see through the glass windows the people who have just arrived, coming down the escalators. We waved at my family and they waved back at us, but there was something visibly wrong with my mother. When we grabbed them to give them a hug my mother said to us: “I will never get on a plane again in my life!” She is a bit claustrophobic, and the long flight in a small space was too much for her.

Cheryl and I reminded her that in order to get back home she would have to get back on the plane. She thought for a minute and then said that she would get on that plane, but it would be the last time in her life that she would fly.

Thirty-seven years later my mother still has never flown again. All the years we lived overseas she never came to see us again. My dad would not come to see us either because he did not want to come without my mother. However, when we lived in London, we talked him into coming to visit us. We had a good time introducing him to the tourist attractions in and around London. He even went to a theater production and really enjoyed it—The Buddy Holly Story.

After about a week he started talking about things that he needed to do back at home. He was anxious and fretting about needing to plant his garden and about the animals—at the time the only animals he had were a dog and cat!

We assured him that all was well back in Mississippi. He made it through the first week, but the second week he was to be with us was the week before Easter. He talked about how bad it was that he wouldn’t be planting his corn on Good Friday because that was the very best day to plant corn. We talked about how Mom and everyone else back home would be taking care of things, but he still fretted. Then one night he had a dream. In his dream there were hundreds of people coming over a hill (he was overwhelmed in downtown London with the multitude of people walking down the streets) and they were headed to his house to eat. In his dream he worried about what he was going to feed all those hundreds of people. He decided in his dream that he had to get home and prepare peas and cornbread for all those people headed to his house. That did it! The next morning he said, “I have to go home now.”

I told him that it would cost extra to change his ticket. He said that would be no problem because that dream was a sign that he needed to be home to plant his garden.

Nothing was going to change his mind, so we arranged an earlier flight for him, he arrived home before Good Friday, and he got his corn planted.

Once he made up his mind, there was no way to change his decision. My dad is a worrier. He still worries about me when I travel—that is a lot of worrying! He worries about threatening weather, about the price of gas, and about any news of one of the family having to go to the doctor—even for an annual exam or a cold.

My dad knows the Bible, and he knows scriptures about worrying, but the fact is, he is a worrier. I can talk to him about worrying, and he listens, but he does not hear.

I resolved long ago that I was not going to be like that (this begs more writing for a later post because as I get older I find that I am doing some of the same things that I said I would never do!), and I believe that I have been successful with this one. However, I regularly have to go back to The Word to be reminded of what the Lord says to us about worrying and anxiety.

A couple of my favorites are:

“When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.” Psalms 94:19

“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.“ Matthew 6:34

When you find yourself starting to worry, go to The Word for promises that God already knows all of our challenges and He WILL guide us through even the darkest moments. And best of all, I don’t ever have to pray asking God to “come and be with me” because He has promised that He will be with me until the end of the earth. That’s something to bank on and lean on when times get rough.