Confessions of A Football Widow, pt 1: I Encounter Football

"Becoming a football fan usually happens naturally: you were raised in a family who liked to watch football, your high school boyfriend was the starting quarterback, or something about the game just spoke to you. But what happens when you’ve never developed a taste for the game — and you marry someone who absolutely loves it? It could mean many lonely winter months for you unless you learn to embrace the sport that has captivated your husband." Tori76 at Ehow

I was aware of the existence of football before I married. I grew up in Texas where high school football is a sort of "religious experience" but, outside of watching my brother carry his 400 pound tuba around in the marching band and going to the championship game to watch Eric Dickerson lead our Sealy Tigers to State in 1979, football and I existed in a parallel universe.

I married Shawn in May of 1989. What a beautiful summer it was. Yes, my husband would disappear on Saturday morning, only to return bloody, muddy, bruised, and happy in the afternoon. "I am man. I play football. I rub other man's face in mud and blood." This statement would be followed by a sort of primal guttural sound accompanied by an odd little dance resembling something out of the opening scene of The Crucible.

While I had never personally observed a man behave this way, I had heard of the phenomenon and thought it was cute and was happy to have him have this unique outlet in life. Why not? No harm is done (at least to me...I wasn't the one covered in blood and mud) and it's only a few hours on Saturday morning. Let the boy have some fun.

Summer progressed and oh, how I loved the Sundays of our first summer of marriage. We would come home from church, have a quick lunch together, and then cuddle up for a Sunday afternoon nap. Sigh...isn't marriage wonderful!

May melted into June which faded into July and August.

Then came September.

Something happens to a certain breed of men in September. The air turns crisp, the leaves start to change, and their little hearts begin to beat in faster palpitation at the thought of what is just around the corner - a new season of pigskin passing.

I was simply not prepared for this change. There were no warning signs before the insanity began. One Sunday he was mine and the next Sunday he was...WHERE WAS HE?

In retrospect, it might have been easier if we had taken time for a little talk beforehand, kind of like Lon Cheney explaining his unique transformation in the old werewolf movies. "Honey, I know this will be hard for you to understand. I don't understand it myself but every year at about this time I.......change. Something possesses me and I become a mad, howling creature. It will be shocking and horrifying for you but you must be strong. I can overcome it if you'll only stick with me, baby."

But we didn't do that.

I remember the first Sunday of football season, 1989. We had a lovely time at church, I came home and prepared lunch, and then slipped off into the bedroom to prepare for our naptime. I waited....and waited. What on earth is he doing out there? I padded out to find my man.

To my horror, there, in my own living room, I beheld an entirely new mutant curiosity. Something that looked like my husband had parked itself in front of the television, surrounded by Dorito bags and sausage, with it's feet up on the coffee table. Whatever it was, it was completely oblivious to anything happening in the world around it, including the fact that it was Sunday afternoon and "naptime."

"What are you doing?" I asked the lump that had taken over my husband. There was no response so I gently kicked it. "Hello? You in there?" Blank eyes returned my inquiry while a numb and trembling hand raised a dorito to the creatures mouth.

I did what any normal frantic wife would do in such a situation where her husband is obviously sick and in need of intervention. I stood in front of the television.

This got his attention.

"HEY, YOU'RE BLOCKING THE GAME!"

"Yes, dear...are you alright? It's Sunday afternoon. This is when we always...."

"GET OUT OF THE WAY. SOMETHING MIGHT BE....ARGH...I MISSED IT!" (insert soundtrack of wild screams of "playback, playback")

Obviously, I did not know this person who was currently incapable of conversation so I went off to my room to contemplate this new development. Mom said there would be days like this. Well, Scarlett, tomorrow is another day.

Yes, it was another day. It was Monday.

I came home from a day of school and work, prepared dinner, and planned for an evening of "making up" for what was missed yesterday afternoon.

It was then that I was introduced to another cultural phenomena of which I was previously unaware: Monday Night Football.

The creature was back.

The rest of the week went well. I noticed he was disappearing into the bathroom with the newspaper more but, perhaps, he was just concerned about Saddam Hussein and the situation in Kuwait and wanted to be more informed.

Then Saturday came. I was accustomed by this point to the Saturday morning games with the buddies. But now a new friend came into my life: College teams.

There were no end to them! They played back to back, on every channel, ALL DAY!

There he was again...the "thing" that took over my husband's body and mind. Sitting on my couch, eating expensive food, responding in grunts, with an occasional scream and rant and a thousand choice comments about coaches, referees, linebackers, and other strange and unusual new vocabulary words.

Something had to be done to reign this creature in...and quickly.

NEXT POST: Confessions of a Football Widow, pt 2: I Attempt to Rescue my Husband from Football

For my son...on his 18th birthday

Today my son, Erik, is 18. Today our culture pronounces him "adult" and "mature." He is able to vote, join the army, buy a gun and purchase any drink his wallet will allow. :)

But legal maturity is only one aspect of maturation. There is also physical, practical, and moral maturity. These seem to come at different ages. I have seen kids who physically matured at 13 and some 40 year olds that still haven't come to practical maturity. Chronology has very little to do with moral maturity, as well. Oftentimes, 7 year olds understand morality and ethics better than adults.

I was listening to a lecture recently on "virtus" and the importance it played in the development of the Roman Republic. "Virtus," translated to the English "virtue" has as its root the word "vir," meaning "man." The picture it protrays is that to be virtuous is to be a "man of honor." As I think about this process of a boy becoming a man I want my son to realize that chronology doesn't make a man. "Virtus" does. Honor. Integrity. Nobility. Wisdom. These are the things that seperate the men from the boys.

Many times I have pointed my son to the following poem, written by Rudyard Kipling. Kipling wrote this tender poem for his own son and I don't think I can improve on it.

Happy Birthday, Erik...Ad virtutem per sapientiam

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

Morning Devotions with John Newton

Has it REALLY been all summer since I've posted? Yikes! Well...it's the first day of Fall so here's another new start for me! :)

I pulled out my old Olney Hymnal this morning at the suggestion of a friend (Thanks, William G!) and read through some great words penned by John Newton. He was in the habit of writing a hymn to go with his sermons preached at the Olney Parish. He eventually, along with neighbor William Cowper, published this collection of hymns in the Olney Hymnal. This little book introduced the world to "Amazing Grace" (Newton) and "There is a Fountain Filled With Blood" (Cowper).

Original 1779 price? 2 shillings. I paid much more than that for my copy from the Cowper and Newton Museum in 2004. Imagine putting down your thoughts and having people still paying to own them 225 years later? That's durability.

The one I read this morning is Hymn 53: "One There Is, Above All Others." He wrote this one to go with a sermon on Proverbs 18:24 "There is a friend who sticketh closer than a brother."
Verses 5 and 6 really stood out to me:

Would we bear from one another,
What He daily bears from us?
Yet this glorious Friend and Brother,
Loves us tho' we treat Him thus:
Tho' for good we render ill,
He accounts us brethren still.

Oh! for grace our hearts to soften!
Teach us, Lord, at length to love;
We, alas, forget too often,
What a Friend we have above:
But when home our souls are brought,
We will love Thee as we ought.

"Lord, remind me today of the great love you have toward me. It is so true that I would not stand to be treated by someone else the way I so often treat You. I ignore You when you speak, I do not respond to Your messages, I blame You for things that You didn't do, I take advantage of Your kindness, and take from You so much more than I give. Grant me grace to return Your friendship today in the small and feeble way in which I am able....help me to be a faithful friend."

Follow Up on "Up" - When Dreams Die

“Dreams are illustrations... from the book your soul is writing about you.” - Marsha Norman

Gracie and I, along with our friend, Ms. Georgia, finally got out to see the Pixar movie, "Up" this afternoon.

Essentially, it is a movie about dreams. Carl, an elderly man, has a fossilized dream that he shared with his life-long love, Elle. Russell, a little Wilderness Explorer Scout, has a fantasized dream about finishing his last club badge - and how it will make his father notice him again. Charles Muntz, a long forgotten explorer thought to be a fraud, has a vengeful dream to vindicate his reputation. Dug, an adorable pup, has a dream of just being loved by a faithful master.

That's a lot of dreaming.

Have you ever had that experience where you have had a great dream only to awaken before you were ready? You lie there in those moments between wakefulness and sleep and try to recapture what was there. You hate to let yourself fully awaken to the new morning because you're just not ready to leave that dream behind in the dark night. That is what has happened to our hero, Carl, in this movie. Life was good to Carl...he married his true love and together they dreamed of travel and adventure and all they would do and see. But the realities of life get in the way of dreams, don't they? Busted tires and home repairs drain travel funds. We find ourselves old and gray and without the adventures we had promised we would have. And just when we finally get to that point when we can buy those tickets to South America...well, something happens that finally kills the dream completely.

Susan Boyle of Britain's Got Talent recently reminded us of the great lyrics from the musical Les Miserables.

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time...
Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

And still I dream he'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.

I thought of that song while watching Carl in the movie. As young people in America, we are consistently told to follow our dreams, to dream big, to never let go of our dreams. In this movie, we see another side. As great as "dreaming big" truly is, sometimes our dreams can sidetrack us from an even greater design for our lives. As difficult as it may be, sometimes dreams do, indeed, die.

In this movie, I saw a dreamer disappointed, disenchanted, disgruntled and dissatisfied. A dreamer betrayed by the harsh realities of life. Much like Fantine, of Les Miserables, "life has killed the dream" he dreamed. So what now? What do we do when the realities of life kill our dreams?

We can, like Carl, decide to see them fulfilled no matter the cost, no matter the danger...no matter who we have to hurt in the process. Mid-movie we see Carl mourning an unfulfilled dream. Then later, through much determination and hard work, we see him finally achieve the dream. He moves that house right where the dream said it should be and then finds that while some dreams are unfulfilled... some are just unfulfilling.

Ray Boltz sang "I've had visions and I've had dreams. I've even held them in my hands. But I never knew they could slip right through like they were only grains of sand." Some dreams must be buried in those grains of sand...and new dreams and adventures begun.

If dreams are truly "illustrations from the book our soul is writing" sometimes we must be willing to let one chapter close and find the courage to start another.

"You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream." C.S. Lewis

Second Lenten Sunday with the Anglicans

3/8/09

Our adventure this Sunday morning is one that Erik and I have been looking forward to for some time. It is not easy for us to arrange our schedules to be gone on a Sunday morning but the day has finally arrived when we are going to visit an Anglican church plant, Holy Cross Anglican Church, at their current meeting location at the Holiday Inn Express in Omaha. Here is a link to their very helpful website: http://www.holycrossomaha.net/

We've been looking forward to this because we both have an affinity for the Anglican church (I'll have to blog about this some other time). My heart has been broken for this worldwide Communion for the last several years as they are so divided on the very basic tenets of the Christian faith and it has been tearing at the soul of the Anglican communion - a church that has blessed the world with some of the greatest Christian thinkers and writers that the western church has known.

We arrived in time for morning prayers which is a liturgical reading of the daily office from the Book of Common Prayer (BOCP). I was quite proud of us for having purchased and brought along two very nice BOCP so that we would be ready to participate. Upon arrival we showed our prayer books to Father Novak when he welcomed us. He told us that the version we had was rather controversial and had been rejected by most of the Reformed Episcopal Church. Apparently I have a "liberal" version. Who knew?

Anyway, he offered us another one to use and we sat in the front next to Rev. Novak's wife so that we could follow along with her through the liturgy. This is our second liturgical service to attend and both times we found those around us very helpful in guiding us to the right places. They also had a VERY helpful guide in both the bulletin and one published just for visitors. They were certainly a very "visitor friendly" congregation.

This church sees itself as becoming a "hub" of churches to plant the historic Anglican faith in this area and to participate in a new reformation in this communion. To this I say a hearty "Amen" as it seems that the American Episcopal Church has strayed so far from the historic teachings of the Anglican Communion and the basic tents of orthodox Christianity. I am excited to begin to fellowship with this congregation of reformers! Some of them shared with me how they have left their former parishes due to the heretical doctrines being taught after having attended their entire lives. The rector made this statement: When Jesus builds His Church the gates of hell will not prevail against it...whether they be millions or just a few.

I did find that the liturgy moved too fast for me. What I was reading as we went through the BOCP was very meaningful, but because I was not familiar with it, much of it was lost on me. I think if I were to attend a church like this regularly I would want to read through the daily prayers BEFORE coming so that I could affirm them as an individual and then celebrate them with my fellow believers.

The sermon was packed with things that interested both Erik and I as much of it was an apologetic for liturgical worship. Here are just a few of the major points:

1. The Church is called to look back to what was given to her by God and not to "get creative with it." The pastor was making reference, certainly, to doctrine but also to the form of worship that was established at the beginning of Christianity. Christianity is an "offshoot" of Judaism which is a very ritualistic and liturgical religion. Jesus would have worshiped liturgically. Since early Christians were familiar with this form of worship it would seem that their early services were also liturgical.

2. He made the statement "those who believe you can't pray from a prayer book need to toss out their hymnals." (Sadly, I could inform him that many of us have done just that.) This was an interesting revelation for me. I regularly use my hymnal in my devotions...but I never really looked at it as a "prayer book" yet that is exactly how I use it. The words in my hymnal were written by someone else and yet have many times brought me to tears because they reflect my heart toward God. This gave me something to chew on as I consider the place of non-extemporaneous prayers.

3. He used Titus 1:4,5 to give a defense of apostolic succession. I will not articulate it as well as he did but it went along these lines: Paul ordained Titus, his "true child in the common faith," and commissioned him as a "bishop" of the island of Crete where Titus was to set the church in order and it was his responsibility, as a bishop, to appoint elders/pastors in the different cities. This shows that the early church had an ORDER of establishing churches. It was not done just because someone said, "Let's start a church and find ourselves a pastor and some deacons, etc." There is an unbroken chain of ordination throughout church history. He used the illustration that Al Gore may have believed himself to be a duly elected president in 2000 but he wasn't...because he wasn't part of an unbroken chain of men who had taken the oath of office regardless of what he believed. It is the same way with ordination. One can't simply decide to start ordaining people. He gave one of the best defenses of apostolic succession that I have ever heard.

4. He also addressed the "funny clothes" that priests wear. He describes them as a "uniform" that distinguishes the clergy much like a policeman wears a uniform to distinguish his availability to those around him. The uniform is interchangeable with any other clergyman and, therefore, keeps "personality cults" down to a minimum because you approach the clergy as an officer of the church not as "a man that you happen to like." This keeps people from identifying the church too readily with a certain man.

5. He also made an interesting observation with regard to the Church body: Rapid changes are usually a sign of a cancer not of healthy growth. Beware of any organization that constantly pushes "change."

All in all, he gave us a lot to chew on.

After the service, there was a fellowship brunch. Everyone was so very friendly to us. There were about 15 in attendance (this is a new church with no building of their own). The pastor took a full HOUR with us to answer questions and was very knowledgeable and personable.

Afterward, Erik and I enjoyed a leisurely lunch together and had some deep conversation about some of the things we had just heard.

I believe that we will be back to visit this new congregation. I am excited about what God is doing in this historic Church and I want to encourage this branch that is fighting for the "faith once delivered for all the saints."

Ash Wednesday at St. Cecilia's Cathedral

2/25/09

Today I attended my first Ash Wednesday service. I went to St. Cecilia's Cathedral in Omaha. I went alone as most everyone else was busy but I think that was the best way for me to attend. It allowed me to focus on the service and my own reflection.

Ash Wednesday is the first day of Lent, the season of preparation for the celebration of the resurrection of Christ on Easter. Growing up in a "free church" denomination we do not observe Lent. My entire life I have experienced the "high" of Palm Sunday followed immediately by the "high" of Easter Sunday...with nothing in between. We waved palm branches one Sunday and the next time we met we celebrated the resurrection. But we never really observed what happened in between, at least not in an organized intentional way.

I have always felt Easter sort of "sneaking up" on me and I never felt prepared for it as I do for Christmas. We start getting ready for the celebration of the birth of Christ the day after Thanksgiving...not because it's a religious thing but because it's a cultural thing. We can't escape preparing for Christmas...it's everywhere around us. But Easter always seems to catch me by surprise because I don't prepare for it and look forward to it and anticipate it by the things I do in my home and church.

Anyway, here's just a few of the things I observed today during and after the Ash Wednesday service...

1. Ash Wednesday is a day that I intentionally repent of my sins and mourn the hurt that they have caused. Sprinkling ashes on the head is an ancient tradition that symbolizes repentance and mourning. I am familiar with this concept in the Old Testament writings. I appreciated the time given in this Catholic service to sit in utter silence and confess my sins to God. I like the liturgical concept of confession of sins before entering into worship. I think this is healthy. Far too often we come into a church worship service with no thought of what may be causing a blockage between our spirit and the Presence of God. As the placed the ashes on the forehead one of the things he said to each participant was "Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel." I need that message, not just today, but everyday.

2. Ash Wednesday is a day that I intentionally embrace the concept of humility. While I didn't participate in the application of ashes because I was not sure that it was for non-catholics, as I watched the others I did sense how "humiliating" it would be to stand before this huge crowd and allow my face to be marred with an ugly black mark. I had never identified the attribute of "humility" with "humiliation" but they are obviously very closely related. I have grown up in a culture that teaches me to "put my best face forward." That was not the lesson I learned here in this ancient ritual. What I was encouraged to do here was to publicly and visibly bear the mark of the Cross for all the world to see my identification with the sufferings of Jesus...even if it made me look odd and out of place. Some of the words whispered by the priest as he placed the ashes were "Remember, O man, that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return." In other words, "Get over yourself."

3. Ash Wednesday is a day in which I begin a 40 day season of intentional self-denial. I am not trying to "earn points" with God. I am training my flesh to be in submission to my spirit. I am taking the money I would normally spend on a certain thing and giving it to those in need. I am intentionally taking extra time out of my day that I would normally focus on "feeding my fleshly needs" and putting that focus on communion with God. I believe that this practice of self-denial will develop my ability to say "no" to myself when things that I want are in conflict with the things that God wants.

4. Ash Wednesday is a day when I experience greater unity with other believers. Even though I didn't bear on my face the marks of the cross, as I went through the day I saw many others who did. When I saw them I felt a kinship with them...fellow believers who, on that day, had also taken the same vows to repent, to humble themselves before God and to fast. I found myself wanting to run up to each of them and talk and share our stories. Then I remembered that I had not taken the ashes...and I found myself wishing that I had. Perhaps next year???

While I am not ready to make participation in a service such as Ash Wednesday a requirement for Christianity, I do feel that my Easter season and my preparation for it were deeply enriched by attending this service today. Thank you to the congregation at St. Cecelia's Cathedral for allowing this protestant pentecostal girl to share in your services.

Quinquagesima - Sunday before Lent with the Lutherans

2/22/09

Today I have arranged things so that Erik and I are both free of responsibilities in the morning service at our church. It is the last Sunday before Lent...where shall we go this morning? We wanted to attend a new Anglican church plant in Omaha but got our map directions wrong and were not able to make it on time. So we settled on St. Paul's Lutheran Church in Council Bluffs. http://stpaulslutheran-cb.org/

St. Paul's is a Lutheran Church in the Missouri Synod. It doesn't have much to do with Missouri, other than being headquarted in St. Louis. It is smaller and more conservative than the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America. We arrived just as they were getting started with the Christian Education hour.

Since Erik is 17, I gave him the option of attending a youth class but he chose to stick with me in the adult session. We met in a fellowship hall and it was very well attended. I noticed a variety of ages in attendance. We joined a table at the back and the people nodded their welcome since the class was beginning and they didn't want to interrupt the speaker.

Our teacher was the pastor, Rev. Nathan Sherrill. He was younger than I expected and led us in an opening hymn "The Son of God Goes Forth to War." This was a new one to me but the group sang it with gusto and it was easy to join in. Erik liked it.

The class was beginning a study on the book of Galatians and after opening comments from Pastor Sherrill it was announced that we would read the entire book together as a group with a volunteer leader for each chapter. I love the book of Galatians and after sitting through the other readings I decided to be quite bold and stood to read the sixth chapter. I was a little hesitant as all the other readers had been male and I was not completely sure, as a female, that I wouldn't be out of line but no one seemed to be bothered by a female guest participating in the reading. At least, if they were, they didn't mention it to me.

The pastor then opened up the floor for Q & A and I was very impressed with the biblical literacy of the class. The questions that were asked were thoughtful and I could tell that the group was accustomed to discussing meaningful topics. There was no cotton-candy, seeker-sensitive stuff here. These were mature believers looking to discuss and interact on principles of Scripture. I wasn't ready for the class to end when it did.

We went up to the beautiful sanctuary for the service. According to the bulletin, this was Quinquagesima - refering to the 50 days before Easter and being the first Sunday before the beginning of the Lenten Season on Ash Wednesday. This wasn't explained too well; I had to look it up. However, the theme of the service was outlined in the bulletin. I liked that. Sometimes church services seem to be a collection of organized chaos...I liked that the theme of what we were focusing on that day was easily available to me. The focus of the day was on the understanding that following Jesus in His death is what wins the battle against "the old evil foe." The hymns and the sermon all focused on "The Church Militant." Quoting from the bulletin: "Satan would love to orchestrate a theological lullaby in our church, but Christ's people can remain vilgilant." Honestly, I wasn't expecting to hear that in a Lutheran church at all. It's refreshing to be reminded that spiritual warfare predates C. Peter Wagner.

The other worshippers could see that we were rather "lost" in the liturgy and very graciously showed us which page to go to in the worship book. The lady sitting next to us was a German immigrant and was very enjoyable as a "pewmate." She spoke to us both before and after the service.

I noticed that they prayed specifically for members of the church who were in need...especially those who were sick or in the armed forces. I got the impression that this is done every Sunday. It's also good to be reminded that belief in the healing power of God predates the pentecostal movement.

We read quite a bit of Scripture and the sermon on the militancy of the church was well presented. I have heard us Pentecostals remark that the mainline churches are ignoring the scriptures but that was certainly not the case here. There was more scripture reading in this service than I am accustomed to. I liked reading together as a congregation. It made me feel like an active participant rather then just a passive listener.

The pastor took time after the service to speak with us personally. I like that. So many churches we are herded in and herded out and never speak to anyone resembling a pastor. This was not the case here. All in all it was a good morning and a great way to begin the Lenten Season.

The bulletin was full of activities to attend...some of which I was tempted to add to my already over crowded calendar. However, I let the idea of attending the pork and sauerkraut dinner go by the wayside...apparently there's still a lot of Germany in the Lutheran church.

What I am Learning About Lent

I do intend to write on some of the more practical aspects of observing Lent as I am discovering so many exciting things but, right now, I am learning so much about the philosophy behind it that I want to share with you.

My understanding of Lent had been that people "gave up __________" for Lent and, really, I considered it to be a very "works-based" form of penance that is unnecessary since Jesus has already paid for my sins and nothing I can DO will make me any more worthy of His forgiveness. To me, that is the beautiful freedom of the Gospel: salvation is by faith alone through grace alone dependent on His work and not mine.

However, the more I study on this the more I believe that I have been missing something precious! It seems that the practice of something similar to Lent has a prototype in the life of Jesus.

"Immediately, the Holy Spirit urged Jesus into the desert. There, for forty days, alone except for desert animals, he was subjected to Satan's temptations to sin. And, afterwards, the angels came and cared for him." Mark 1:12-13

We don't know a lot about the forty days Jesus spent in the wilderness before He began His public ministry. We do know that it was a time of fasting and learning to discipline his flesh during temptation...and, while not specifically mentioned, I'm sure it included prayer. When the devil came to Him, the words of Scripture were quick on His tongue so it must have also been a time of meditation on the Word of God.

Here's what I can see from this Scripture:

1. This was intentional time away from the regular routine to focus on spiritual discipline.
2. It was instigated by the Holy Spirit.
3. It was for an extended and set time.
4. It included solitude.
5. It was a time of learning to say "NO" to Satan, to the flesh, and to pride.
6. The activities seemed to have a focus on fasting, meditating on Scripture and, by inference, prayer.
7. He was ministered to and comforted by angels in the end.

Was Jesus trying to EARN anything from God in these 40 days? No...there is no evidence of that. What WAS the purpose?

My study in looking up the Old Testament references that Jesus used in combatting temptation led me to Deuteronomy 8 where I found an interesting principle that relates to the purposes of intentional "wilderness time." As the Israelites were in the desert 40 years, so Jesus was in the desert 40 days. Listen to what God said about the purpose of that desert time:

"You shall remember all the way which the Lord your God has led you in the wilderness these forty years, that He might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep His commandments or not. He humbled you and let you be hungry...that He might make you understand that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by everything that proceeds out of the mouth of the Lord." Deuteronomy 8:2,3

The purposes here in these verses would be:

1. To cause us to remember how the Lord has led us
2. To bring about humility
3. To test the content and character of our heart
4. To test our commitment to keep His commandments when it is not easy to do so
5. To allow ourselves to be hungry so that we realize that there is more to life to desire than just the things of earth

This leads me to ask myself this question: WHAT IF I decided to intentionally take an extended and set amount of time, at the leading of the Holy Spirit, to pull away from the regular routine of life and practice intentional self-denial for the purpose of bringing the contents of my heart open before the Lord and allowing Him to take this time to show me purpose in suffering and sacrifice?

WHAT IF thousands of unified believers, all over the world, chose to do this at the same time every year at the direction of their spiritual leaders? WHAT IF we chose to do that in the weeks preceding the greatest celebration of the greatest victory over Sin, Satan, and Self? Would it be possible that the celebration of Resurrection would take on a whole new meaning as we partake of the sufferings and sacrifice of our Lord through the practice of crucifying our fleshy desires with fasting, humility, and giving?

I think I've changed my mind about Lenten observation being a "works-based penance." I think it could well be an avenue of knowing Jesus in the way Paul writes about in Philippians 3:

"I didn't want some petty, inferior brand of righteousness that comes from keeping a list of rules when I could get the robust kind that comes from trusting Christ—God's righteousness. I gave up all that inferior stuff so I could know Christ personally, experience his resurrection power, be a partner in his suffering, and go all the way with him to death itself. If there was any way to get in on the resurrection from the dead, I wanted to do it." (Philippians 3:9-11 The Message)

Two Churches Battle It Out with Their Signs...

I know I promised that the next blog would be about the Ash Wednesday service last week (I hope to still get to that today) but my sister sent me this and, in the interest of church unity in the broader expressions of Christianity, I thought I would share it with you.

Apparently, these two churches - one Presbyterian and one Catholic - are across the street from each other and their theological differences spilled over onto their church signs when the Catholics placed "All Dogs Go to Heaven" on their sign...

Why I Have Decided to Observe Lent...

There it is in black and white: I am observing Lent this year.

I was raised classic southern pentecostal. I wouldn't have chosen any other upbringing. I love my heritage and it's history. The stories my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather would share of the power of God always thrilled me and made me want to experience all I could of God's presence. The main things I was taught as a child were that "what God once did He is still doing." "The God of the book of Acts is the same God we serve." "When it comes to His presence never settle for anything less or for anything more." "We are to seek to be a New Testament church."

I was also raised with the belief that God had delivered us out of the apostate church of "mainline-ism" and that all of the trappings of the historical churches were not only absent from the New Testament church but were, at the least, a distraction to worship and, at worst, Satan's plan to return the church to an Old Testament concept of priests, rituals, and sacred days of rules and regulations.

My exposure to church history growing up was mostly limited to the revival movements of the past. We revered the names of John and Charles Wesley but scorned what the Methodists had become. We lauded the bravery of Martin Luther but would never have stepped into a Lutheran church. I remember listening, with fascination, to my father wax eloquent in the pulpit about the martyrdom of Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley but never knew anything about their life outside of their final moments and certainly nothing of the Church of England. Jonathan Edwards and George Whitefield were very familiar names but we always focused on the aspects of their lives as it related to awakening revival rather than what they believed about serving God in plain old ordinary day to day living.

I began this journey of opening my mind to participation in the historical churches about five years ago when I began a personal study of the history and development of the English Bible. (Extraordinary story - full of the most fascinating people and events! I'll have to do a few blogs on that sometime). As part of that study, I took a trip to England and spent two weeks with an evangelical Anglican rector. You have to understand my background to understand this next statement: I was shocked to find that he was...well...a Christian. End result: I fell "in love" with this 70-something year old Scottish man and stuck to him like glue all over the countryside of Great Britain. By the end of the trip, I am sure that he was quite ready for me and all my questions to return to the other side of the pond!

As he took me to places like St. Paul's Cathedral, Westminster Abbey, and Canterbury he patiently explained to me all the significance of the different things we were observing. I remember, at the beginning of the trip, standing with him in York Minster and asking "Doesn't all this seem rather a waste? Think of all the starving peasants who gave to build this edifice...couldn't that money have gone to better things?"

Have you ever been yelled at by an elderly Anglican minister? It's not a lovely experience. He began to point out to me how the height of the ceiling naturally lifts the eyes heavenward. Did I not think that these people who lived in mud all their lives needed something to pull their eyes upward? He gestured to the beautiful stained glass that told the stories of Jesus' life and ministry and reminded me that my precious books would have meant little to these people who couldn't read but could come and learn of God's love and the existence of beauty in the world through the architecture of the Cathedrals. Did I not realize that every aspect of this building and its services had been painstakingly planned and developed to attempt to import some of the creative majesty of the Almighty to this terrestial existence? I was sternly rebuked.

He made his point. It was on this study adventure that I began to realize that I had much to learn about God and about worship. That there was wisdom, depth, and a reverence that I was not experiencing and that, just perhaps, there might be something I could learn from the historical church experience.

A few years ago I read "Evangelicals on the Canterbury Trail" by Robert Webber and realized that I am not alone in this learning process.

Now, before anyone gets too excited and writes me off as having "gone over" to the Ecumenical Dark Side and starts checking for my name at the World Council of Churches website, hear me on this: I am Pentecostal through and through. If it was reasonable, I would paint my house turquoise (only people in Springfield would get that one). I am a member of the Stanley Horton Fan Club. However, I am open to the very real possibility that God's people are much bigger than our movement and that, perhaps, resources like The Book of Common Prayer might be actually beneficial to me in my devotional life.

Anyway, I wrote all this to explain why this year I have decided to participate in the liturgical lenten season. It's a new experience for me and it may be the only time I ever do it. But, then again, maybe this will be a regular thing for me. I will be blogging on it through the next few months. I already have some great notes from the Ash Wednesday service last week at St. Cecilia's Cathedral in Omaha. I'm looking forward to sharing with you the things that I am learning on this journey.

And, I'm sure, my elderly Anglican rector friend would look down at me and say, "You have much to learn, Grasshopper."

Upcoming blogs

Hopefully, I will get to my blog on Sunday or Monday at the latest...it's been SO busy! I've been taking some notes on my journey as an evangelical in keeping up with the liturgical calendar. Got some great stuff to share with you! Keep checking back!

Blessings!
Ruthie

Adultery isn't just wrong; it's stupid!

Happy Valentine's Day! I have writer's block this morning so I've pulled this out of my files. I wrote this after reading an article in "Leadership" Magazine by Randy Alcorn and before I got married. Much of this list I took directly from him but I added to it and tweaked it some. It has evolved since I first started it 21 years ago.

This list has reminded me several times of some of the practical reasons to stay faithful to my husband by reminding me of the consequences of adultery. We live in a culture that gives us so many encouragements to be unfaithful...but they do not usually show us the consequences of adultery. So...without further ado...

22 consequences in my life should I choose to commit adultery...

1. Grieving my Redeemer who has already forgiven me of so many sins
2. Causing shame upon the sacred name of God and the calling of the ministry
3. Following in the footsteps of others whose immorality forfeited their marriages or ministries and caused great pain to the body of Christ : (there is a list of names in my personal file that, sadly, over the years has grown - I keep the list not to shame them but to remind me)
4. Inflicting untold hurt on Shawn, the man I’ve promised to cherish and be faithful to and losing his trust and respect as well as the wonderful freedom we have known in our marriage.
5. Crushing my beloved children, Erik, Corrie, and Gracie and having to explain to them "why we aren't pastor's anymore."
6. Destroying my example and credibility with my children and crippling future efforts to teach them to obey God in every area of their lives.
7. If Shawn be unable to forgive me, I could lose my marriage and my family forever.
8. I would lose respect for myself and create a guilt hard to shake. Even if God, Shawn, and the kids forgive me, would I be able to forgive myself?
9. Forming memories that would plague future intimacy with my husband, both on my part and his.
10. Forfeiting years of rewarding ministry, possibly permanently.
11. Forfeiting my ministerial credentials and the respect of my fellow ministers in the Assemblies of God (list of names of men and women whose respect I desire)
12. Forfeiting the effect of years of witnessing to my best friend, "M", and encouraging her to continue in immorality.
13. Undermining the faithful example of other Christians.
14. Bringing great pleasure to Satan, the enemy of my soul.
15. Possibly destroying the family of the person with whom I committed adultery and knowing that I was a “home wrecker.”
16. Possibly bearing in my body the effects of my sin with sexually transmitted diseases. Possibly infecting Shawn, and in the case of AIDS, causing his death.
17. Possibly facing the effects of a pregnancy with its personal, financial and family obligations.
18.  Dealing with the aftermath of a broken heart and the emotional pain that comes from loving and losing.
19. Bringing shame to members of my church (list names):
20. Causing shame and hurt to these friends, whom I have taught, discipled, or led to Christ: (list names).
21. Bringing shame and embarrassment to my parents, uncle and aunt, and brother and sister whom I want to be proud of me.
22. Invoking shame and lifelong embarrassment upon myself.


If I choose to commit adultery it wouldn't just be wrong, it would be stupid.

Don't chase the snake! Get rid of the poison!

Not too long ago I had to take a first aid course at Iowa Western Community College; actually, I had to take a Physical Education course and this sounded like the one most down my alley since it didn't involve much strenuous activity!

One of the things we learned about was snake bites. According to our book, one of the worst things you can do after being bitten by a snake is to try to chase the snake to kill it yourself. Apparently, when you do that the poison works it way through your circulatory system more quickly because of the exertion. You would do better to lie quietly and do something about the poison that's already inside you due to the bite than to go running after the snake.

I have been thinking about this. There have been times in my life when it felt like I had been bitten by a "snake." Someone with an unkind word, rude remark, or just plain meanness left me feeling as if I had just been "bit." In those brief moments following those times, I have a choice to make as to how I will respond: will I chase after the "snake" or work on ridding myself of any "poison" that might be working its way through me due to the "bite."

The natural reaction is, of course, to take revenge on the snake but catching it is unlikely and the chase only serves to strengthen the potency of the poison.

So that leaves me with another option - take some time to take care of myself and get the poison out! How do we do this? Jesus gives us some great advice in Luke 6, when He tells us to love our enemies. He gives four specific actions to tell us exactly what to do. We are to "do good to them, to bless them, pray for them, and give to them."

Why? He knows that our natural tendency when we have an "enemy" is to want to punish, retaliate, defend ourselves, and seek revenge. We want them to hurt like they have hurt us. But, in doing this, the one we most often end up hurting is ourselves! How many nights of sleep have you lost thinking over past "bites" when the one who "bit" you is home fast asleep? Who's being punished here?

That's why Jesus gives us an alternative. Doing good, blessing, praying, and giving are antidotes for the poisons in my spiritual bloodstream. Is there someone who has "bitten" you? Are you spending so much energy chasing them that the poison has worked it's way through your system and you're so drained that you just can't find healing? Ask the Lord to show you how doing good, blessing, praying, and giving might just be the antidote you're looking for!

Hang in there! We're all in this together!

January 20, 2009

Today is a day that will go down in history! I am excited that our nation has come to a point that we have felt free to elect a black man to the highest office of our nation. It is a day that I hope men like Frederick Douglas, Booker T. Washington, and Martin Luther King, Jr. are looking down on our nation rejoicing in knowing that a small part of the fulfillment of "the dream" is now reality. Perhaps, somewhere in the great unknown, Harriet Tubman and Sojourner Truth are hugging each other and praising God that, perhaps, we are closer to the understanding that the equality of humanity is not based upon skin pigmentation but upon the sacred image of God endowed by man's Creator. I believe that is great news for America...God wept for our future when we rejected the black man as our brother and passed laws that enslaved him and designated him as one with "no rights that any white man was bound to respect."

I remember the frustration in my mind as a little girl visiting a man in my home state of Texas. As he sat in the filthy, unkept house that he had provided for his family through the on-again, off-again jobs he had managed to acquire and lose in rapid succession, he told me that I needed to understand that "all black men are lazy and are only after our white women." History shows us that the ability to be lazy and a scoundrel is not dependent on one's skin color. I have known black men who were wretched and I have known white men who were wretched...when God looks at them he doesn't see a wretched black man or a wretched white men...He simply sees a wretched man in need of a Savior...and so should we.

But I also wonder if Douglas, Washington, King, Tubman, and Truth did not also weep as they saw the divided country that this man has been appointed to lead. We are fully aware that there were those who voted for Obama because he is a black man...is that any different than refusing to vote for him based on the color of his skin? Either way we are still judging a man by his color rather than by his character. We are still a divided nation as we continue to reap what was sown so many years ago - we sowed seeds of division, hatred, and bitterness and we will continue to reap it until we have fully repented as a nation of our continued refusal to see each human, - male or female, black or white, Asian or Hispanic, born or unborn - as a Creation of God Almighty and, therefore, worthy of respect, honor, dignity, and protection of law. We obviously are not at that point with our view of unborn babies, be they black, white, male or female. And our new president has sworn to make it easier to discriminate against these members of humanity based, not on their color, but on their residence: the womb. Nope, we're not at that place of full equality based solely on being an Image Bearer just yet.

Let's pray for our new president...God alone knows what the future holds for the nation that he is leading.

Unpack that Camel!

My friend, Rhonda, put this note on her facebook recently:

"This is an excerpt from a teaching by Perry Stone. I thought it worthy of sharing.

“Then said Jesus unto his disciples, Verily I say unto you, That a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven. And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.” - Matthew 19:23-24

In the English language we see a “needle’s eye” as the small opening in a sewing needle through which a piece of thread is pulled. Can you see a camel attempting to go through such an opening? Actually Jesus did not have a sewing needle in mind.

In the Ancient time every city had gates. Some were made of wood but many were iron or a combination of wood and iron (Isaiah 45:1). These large gates were shut at night and no one was permitted to enter or exit unless it was an important person. There were also watchmen placed on the wall to guard against invading armies. A small door was placed within the large doors that would permit someone to enter or exit in the event of an emergency or because of a definite need or purpose. This small door was called the “needle’s eye.” Jesus said it was difficult for a camel to go through the eye of the needle. Camels are a very tall animal with a very long neck and were often laden down with large bags to transport wheat, charcoal, wood and other important commodities into the town every day.

A burdened down camel carrying these loads cannot possibly enter the eye of the needle without unloading its burdens! Jesus was saying that those who are extremely rich are so burdened down with the cares of life and riches that unless they unload themselves from the many cares of life, they will have difficulty entering the kingdom, just like a camel who is burdened down with its load cannot enter into the narrow opening in the city gate.

A camel needs a BROAD road to carry its load but Jesus taught the road leading to life is very narrow. This is just one of many examples of understanding the unusual and difficult words of Jesus."

I think that too many times we don't think of ourselves as "rich" because, by American standards, most of us are just "middle class." But if we viewed ourselves by world standards...we are all very rich. We each have our own home, cars, hobbies, etc. For much of the world these things are available to only the wealthy.

I know that I find myself so burdened down with carrying all the "things" that I have to do because of my wealth - the house must be cleaned, the car maintained, all the work that comes from the hobbies (since my hobby is books...they must be organized, cared for, and , on occasion, I need to read them. LOL) These are the kinds of things that I often find pulling me away from my time with God and intimacy with Him. Once again I need to "unpack this camel" and lay down the burdens of life to enter into the presence of God...or I will find myself outside the gate...with nothing to show for it except burdens. Ouch.