Angels

Does anyone out there who has a smart phone carry a camera anymore? These gadgets take such great pics that I don't need to carry a camera. Now the truth is that I stopped carrying a camera on overseas trips many years ago. I just don't like to be identified as a camera-carrying tourist. Now I find myself taking pictures overseas again because I can do it more inconspicuously with a very small phone.

It is surprising how many photos I have in my phone. I was looking through them recently--I really need to delete some of them, but it is hard to just wipe out a photo of something that I thought was very special at the time I shot it.

While scrolling through the pictures I paused to look at Jordan, Jenna and one of their friends dressed up as angels at a pageant at church. You know what angels look like--they are dressed in white, they have wings, and they are always smiling, right? At least that is what they look like in all the pageants that I have seen.

I don't really know how we know what an angel looks like. I suppose this notion of what an angel looks like has been passed down from generation to generation.

It strikes me that when an angel is introduced in The Word, the people to whom they appeared must have been afraid. Matthew 29:5 states: "But the angel said to the women, Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified." So, what did the angel look like if the first thing it said to the women at Jesus' tomb was "Don't be afraid?" Probably not what our stereotyped notion of pageant angels is.

And, then, there is I Chronicles 21:30 where the angel carried a sword: "but David could not go before it to inquire of God, for he was afraid of the sword of the angel of the LORD." How many pageants have you seen with an angel carrying a sword?!

Many times in our lives our minds are set -- on what something is supposed to look like, on what you think something tastes like, on what someone believes, on where someone fits in the societal rankings, on how we are going to like someone -- before we ever get an opportunity to see, experience and understand for ourselves.

Perhaps you are guilty as I have been of forming an opinion of someone based on what others tell you, before you ever meet the person or before you get to know her or him. I really do not want to allow someone else to choose my friends for me by accepting their opinion before I have the opportunity to make up my own mind.

Khat

I am in Germany and reviewing international news. The headlines are full of the potential terrorist threats. The US and other western countries have closed embassies and some Americans have evacuated cities over the Muslim world.

One of our conference speakers here in central Germany reminded us today that we cannot insult God by asking God for too much, but we can insult Him by asking for too little. I took that to heart, and I have just prayed for the Yemeni Arabs. I made a bold prayer request and asked God for self-replicating churches to be started all over Yemen.

Memories of traveling in Yemen are flooding my mind as I type these words. Visual images of Yemenis’ faces rush through my mind. I am thinking about stories of encounters with workers who have endured very hard times living in this desolate, but beautiful country. I am praying for their safety and for their leaders who have to make decisions about their safety.

Once two of these workers were driving me and some colleagues back to the capital city from a provincial capital where we had been visiting with our colleagues. There were no rest stop facilities to be found, and it was a long drive, so we pulled over to the side of the road to make a “pit stop.” As we were taking care of business we heard the roar of engines headed our way. All of a sudden two heavily armored pickup trucks came out of nowhere and there were large and small caliber weapons pointed at us.

Our colleague immediately staring speaking rapidly to the armed men, and as quickly as the armed men had appeared, they disappeared into the fields of tall green plants.

We had stopped on the side of the road beside a field of tall dark green plants. I did not recognize the plants, but I was more interested in taking care of my physical needs that identifying the plant. The field was planted in almost-ready-to-harvest khat. Khat is an addictive plant that men in Yemen and the Horn of Africa chew on like tobacco for the narcotic effect that they receive. Men regularly chew this narcotic during the afternoon and get high and sometimes cannot complete their work. Many children have gone to sleep hungry at night because their fathers spent food money on Khat.

Khat is such a valuable commodity that owners go to great expense to protect their crops with armed men and vehicles. When we made that rest stop the guards quickly swept down on us because they thought we were going to steal khat from the field. When I was looking down the barrel of a 50 caliber machine gun mounted on the back of the pickup, many thoughts quickly went through my mind. But oddly enough I was not afraid. I did, however, instinctively raise my hands over my head in a silent proclamation of “Don’t shoot. I have done nothing wrong.”

I think a lot of fear expressed by us humans is driven by our perceptions and expectations. We can easily get psyched up to fear something when we think about it. Dread can become fear. Whenever my mind starts thinking about a fear of something, such as a noise in the dark while walking outside, I remember that the Scripture teaches us not to fear anything but God—and that is an AWEsome fear.

I Samuel 12:24: “Only fear the Lord and serve Him faithfully with all your heart. For consider what great things He has done for you.”

See one, do one, teach one

Shelby is probably the most risk-taking grandchild among our 11 grandchildren. Her dad often says that she is a daredevil, but I am not sure I like anyone using any word that has devil in it to describe one of my grandchildren. So, let's just say that she is extraordinarily daring. 

Sometimes when she is with me she watches me doing something on the farm, and then after I have finished, she says, "Now, I want to do it, Papa." I will usually let her do it--well, not everything. I haven't let any of my grandchildren run the bush hog.

When I began to learn the More' language in Burkina Faso, I enjoyed learning some of the proverbs from the Mossi culture. One of the proverbs says, "See one, do one, teach one."

I still love this proverb, and all my kids have heard me use it many times. For the past 30 years this proverb has helped me be a better leader. I have had challenges in my career thinking that it is easier for me to just go ahead and do something rather than allowing someone else to do it. After all, I can do this task better and faster than anyone else. Then I think about that proverb.

A leader helps those with whom he/she works be successful. One way of accomplishing that goal is to show someone how to do something by modeling it, then allow them to do it--even if they can't do it as well as you. Then, they are ready to show someone else how to do it. That's multiplication of leaders!

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!