Faithful are the wounds of a friend...

I had someone use that phrase when speaking with me the other day.

My first thought?

In the middle of a difficult conversation, throwing a Bible verse at someone is playing dirty - because how in the world can you argue with God's inspired words, especially when your whole life has been built around trying to integrate it's truth into every aspect of your life?

So due to the context, the comment was not at all appreciated.

And as a parent... as well as one who works in a Christian school with children who misbehave,...a lot... that is something I need to remember.

I also trust God that "criticism," whether offered 

contructively out of love 

or 

vengefully with a desire to hurt in retaliation, 

gives the Spirit of God opportunity to hold up a mirror where I can look long and hard to see if the criticism, or at least certain aspects, was merited.

So I'm sitting with these words for a bit, even though it also means cutting the wound a little deeper.

Interpreting and applying a proverb

According to the Bible Project, in one of their videos about the book of Proverbs: "... the purpose of this book is to help you develop a set of practical skills for living well in God's world and this gets linked with another key idea...; the fear of the Lord. Now fear here is not about terror. It's about a healthy sense of reverence and awe for God and about my place in the universe. It's a moral mindset that recognizes that I am not God and that I don't get to make up my own definitions of good and evil, of right and wrong. Rather I need to humble myself before God and embrace God's definition of right and wrong, even when that's inconvenient for me." (beginning at 1:44 in the video)

A quick search reveals all sorts of strategies for studying this book of short, pithy sayings. However, since the distinguishing fact of a proverb is its succintness, there are also a few cautions to keep in mind. Thus a proverb should generally not be considered an absolute truth or promise. Additionally, because some proverbs describe the reality of life in a fallen world, description or inclusion is not the same as a comprehensive rubber stamp.

In other words, the wounds of a friend are generally faithful, but do not assume that is always the case... unless, of course, the friend in question is God. 

Rereading the beginning verses of Proverbs 27 today, the image that keeps coming to mind is from last year's Easter program:

Adam and Eve choosing the kisses of the serpent instead of heeding the words of God. 

I wonder if, in their minds, those words seemed hard, restrictive and unfair, even though they had come from a friend - their God who walked and talked with them, from the beginning, in the garden? 

As a consequence, God then pronounced words even more wounding, the curse of sin on all mankind. 

Thankfully, he then followed with words of promise, planting a seed of hope that blossomed into fullfillment with the empty tomb. 

From the beginning of time, the wounds of the only perfect friend prove faithful, while the kisses of the eternal enemy bring catastrophy. 

Voila ~  the truth on which this proverb is based.

However, no mere human  is a perfect friend.

Three key words: wounds... friend... faithful...

Wounds

In the original language, wound refers to a bruise, or what happens when a part of the body is injured and blood from the damaged capillaries (small blood vessels) leaks out. With no place to go, the blood gets trapped under the skin, forming a red or purplish mark that's tender when you touch it. It is the result of an act that crushes or batters.

Friend

Today, friend has all sorts of meanings, including those listed as designated connections on social media. Clearly, that is not what this proverb is getting at. 

Friend, in the original Hebrew language, refers to someone who loves or is loved. There really isn't a whole lot more detail. In fact, this particular Hebrew word used for love can refer to love in any or all of its possible manifestations. 

What several of the commentators I read said was that it was more telling to look at what love was not. In particular, love is the opposite of hate. 

Most dictionaries define hate as a very strong feeling of dislike; an intense hostility. The ancient Hebrew prioritizes a very different nuance. “Sane’ ” (saw-nay’), often translated as hate, is, in pictograph letters, “thorn seed.” According to Jeff Benner in The Ancient Hebrew Lexicon of the Bible "The thorn, (the seed of a plant with small sharp points) cause one to turn directions to avoid them.” In other words, not allowing love. Hate means putting up walls, a hedge of protection, to avoid pain. This image makes me think of the Michael Card song Why?

Only a friend can betray a friend

A stranger has nothing to gain

And only a friend comes close enough

To ever cause so much pain

Faithful

Pillars of support, stable, nourishing, established and sure...

Putting it all together ~ 

Sure and stable, supporting, nourishing and buttressing are those tender to the touch contusions that result from crushing and battering when inflicted by someone who loves you, sees you for who you are and is working for your very best. 

Photo credit : Unsplash by Robert Linder

So what's my conclusion?

Ouch!

Can I trust the "friend" who has recently wounded me? I really don't know. 

We humans are so fallible, so prone to wander, so likely to sin and seek vengeance, so arrogant and sure that our own way has the holy stamp of approval. Thus, that question is impossible for me to answer.

However, I can trust my divine friend. 

We often pray for deliverance from hard things - the things that cause us pain. God, however, is more interested in delivering us from our sinful selves than He is in stopping the pain of a wound becoming a tool of redemption in His faithful, capable hands. 

Can't remember the last time I so looked forward to summer

When I was a kid, I remember my dad (well, at least I think it was him) sing-song saying, as summer vacation started, "School's out, school's out, someone's let the fools out!"

He couldn't be more right and I will gladly accept the title of "fool" this year, for what a year it was. As I wrote back in December, I've never felt more unequipped, unqualified and under stress in a job than this past year. 

After December, it didn't really get better either. I am pretty sure I don't like this leadership gig. When we left Africa, I somehow thought cross-cultural ministry in a more western culture would be easier. It isn't. I've never felt more like an outsider than this past year.

But I'm also stubborn, don't like to give up, and most importantly, I don't think God has asked me to move on, at least not yet.

Last Sunday, the sermon focused on Jesus' interaction with the man with leprosy found in Luke 5. 

While He was in one of the cities, behold, there was a man covered with leprosy; and when he saw Jesus, he fell on his face and begged Him, saying, “Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean.” And He reached out with His hand and touched him, saying, “I am willing; be cleansed.” And immediately the leprosy left him.

I've read these verses many times. Hearing them read aloud, in French, I noticed something I had never noticed before. In French, the word, or expression, used by the leper was "make me pure." I immediately thought, "Hmmmmm... interesting... I wonder why he requested purity and not healing?" Same thought could have crossed my mind in English, "Why did the leper ask to be cleaned instead of healed?"

I know all about the image of leprosy representing impurity, or uncleanliness, in the eyes of God. As a result, those sick with the disease were forced to live outside the camp, crying out "Unclean!" any time they were in proximity of others. I don't understand why God chose this image and why those sick with the disease were forced to live with this burden of exclusion and rejection by society and his people. If I am being honest, it is one of those things that has always bothered me and doesn't fit with the image of God I want to be able to tuck in my back pocket and carry around with me.  Since I can't create God in my image, however, I'm stuck wrestling with this incomprehension and tension. So, all of that to say, I do understand the use of the word clean in the leper's request, but...

For those of us reading the biblical text in this day and age, without that same background connotations and with only the knowledge that leprosy is disease, I think the use of the word clean is perfect and perfectly fascinating. 

Back to the leper - he falls on his face and begging, praying, that the Lord would be willing to cleanse him...

I immediately thought of long moments over this past school year, on my face before the Lord, tearfully imploring him to...

• fix things,
• make it all go away or at least go a bit more smoothly,
• show me what I could do to do to fix things,
• send us to a different mission field,
• just let me teach English with business people,
• give me at least a little energy to face another day,
• comfort me with his presence because this season was so, so lonely,
• help me to walk the halls of the school and actually continue doing the job,
• and a million other things essentially along those same lines.

Many of those prayers? Well, he promises he hears them. 

In retrospect, I can see how others he faithfully answered... on repeat. 

They were the prayers like the leper's prayer, even though I never, ever prefaced my prayers as that man did - stating my confident knowledge of his absolute power to grant any request while humbly acknowledging that THAT wouldn't happen... 

...unless God was willing.

Ever wonder what prayers God is willing to answer?

The ones that are prayed according to his will, and not just a "may Thy will be done" in closing. 

It is the prayers that reflect the character of God and his image within me, that bring honor and glory to his name, that permit his truth and light to shine, that point any watching eyes (including my own) in his direction.

Two answers to prayer, directing my eyes and heart to seek refuge in God and God alone, are two songs literally breathing just enough courage into my wary weariness that I can continue another day. They have been earworms (as my kids say), stuck in my head, and I am so thankful.

The first is Lauren Daigle's Thank God I Do. Read the lyrics : 

I've seen love come and

I've seen love walk away

So many questions

Will anybody stay?

It's been a hard year

So many nights in tears

All of the darkness

Trying to fight my fears

Alone, so long alone

I don't know who I'd be if I didn't know You

I'd probably fall off the edge

I don't know where I'd go if You ever let go

So keep me held in Your hands

I've started breathing

The weight is lifted here

With You, it's easy

My head is finally clear

There's nothing missing

When You are by my side

I took the long road

But now I realize

I'm home with You, I'm home

I don't know who I'd be if I didn't know You

I'd probably fall off the edge

I don't know where I'd go if You ever let go

So keep me held in Your hands

You're my safe place

My hideaway

You're my anchor

My saving grace

You're my constant

My steadiness

You're my shelter

My oxygen

I don't know who I'd be if I didn't know You

Thank God, I do

The second song was written by my daughter for a school assignment. She had to compose the music, write the words and put the whole thing together, recording it for her class.  When she played the final version for me on our way in to school the morning it was due, I bawled (I know... not the most conducive for safe driving.).

I don't have her permission to share the recording of her song, but these words:

Home is not a place

It's the people you're with

The place I feel safe

Because you're who I'm with...

Home's never a place

It's who we are

The place we feel safe

Because you're who I'm with.

Her song is the cry of a Third Culture Kid's heart, but it has also been the cry of her cross cultural worker-mama's heart, realizing all over again that the only safe space, the only home, is near to the heart of God because that is who He is. As I work in the garden, fold laundry, or just sit and stare out the window at the river and the sunset, these words run through my head, healing my heart.

Summer, a season for growth and rest, 

an answer to prayer.

Another way

The phrase "soccer mom" generally refers to a married middle-class woman who lives in the suburbs and has school age children. She is sometimes portrayed in the media as busy or overburdened and driving a minivan or SUV. She is also portrayed as putting the interests of her family, and most importantly her children, ahead of her own The phrase derives from the literal, specific description of a mother who transports and watches her children play soccer. It was also used in names of organizations of mothers who raised money to support their children's soccer teams. The first reference to the phrase soccer mom in the US national media has been traced to 1982. In that year, the husband of the treasurer of the "Soccer Moms booster club" of Ludlow, Massachusetts, stole $3,150 raised for the benefit of a local soccer league. (from Wikipedia)

I don't remember the first time I heard the term "soccer mom," but I swore I'd never become one. I also swore I'd never drive a minivan or say, "Because I told you so!" to my kids. 

Yeah, well...

Then my son played soccer... softball... my daughters discovered that they liked volleyball and cheerleading (ugh... I still sigh over that one) and I tried to be present at as many of their sporting events as I could reasonably and feasibly attend.

Basketball has been the sport this school year. Five kids, five different teams. Some weeks, in between practices and games, it felt like all we did was basketball.

I loved it, even though it was exhausting.

Anna's basketball team played for the title in the final season tournament for their division. They played hard and won the bronze medal, second year in a row. Not bad for a team that never plays a home game (the gym at the school is not a full-sized gym) and only has access to that gym for one two hour practice per week.

However, their semifinal game broke my heart, and not just because they lost: 44 - 47.

They were playing a very good team, one with more resources, lots more opportunity to train, deeper bench and generally more skilled. However, our girls play with a lot of heart and had beaten this team in regular season play, in another nail biter of a game.

This game, however, there was a scoring/record keeping mistake. 

One of the gals on Anna's team drove for a lay-up, literally threading the needle to get to the basket, and scored. The electronic scoreboard showed the score immediately. But a few seconds later, the official scorekeepers took those two points away from Anna's team and then added them to the opposing team's total.

Friends, family, parents and other spectators cheering for Anna's team started immediately asking why. The ref went over to check the score sheets. Apparently, those two points had been marked... and tallied... in the wrong place and the ref left the score as it was: instead of 14 - 15 (leaving Anna's team one point behind), the score was now 12 - 17.

When one of the parents tried to insist, he was ejected from the game.

Is it possible that the other spectators present, all of those there and cheering for the other team, did not observe what happened? 

Yes, that is a possibility.

Is it believable that the other team's coach really didn't know what had just happened? 

Yeah... I guess, although I have a harder time swallowing that. In all honesty, however, I must add that I'm not naturally inclined to think the best of said coach as I was not impressed by the "coaching" demonstrated. 

Is it possible that our entire group of EVZone (Anna's team) supporters misunderstood and/or were mistaken and that the change was a just one? I guess - but I don't really think so. That's clearly some of my own bias showing.

The score remained 12 - 17. Our girls rallied, played hard, even had the lead a couple more times in the game - but in the end lost and ended up playing in the semifinals rather than the final game. 

I guess I don't know for sure. 

However, I hope that had the shoe been on the other foot, had a similar mistake been made that would have given Anna's team the advantage, that I would have chosen a different way. That I would have been the first to approach the refs and share my memory of what had happened.

For in my mind, herein is the real tragedy.

An opportunity was lost.

Once our kids get to that later high school/young adult stage, adults (parents included) must earn the right to continue to speak into their lives. Here, the adults present had an opportunity to teach a better, most excellent way - a way that sets personal desire and brief moments of glory aside, delighting instead in what is honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, true - and sometimes very difficult to do...  by denying self and choosing the other first.

I pray that the way my daughter saw modeled by her daddy and me, as we responded to what transpired at this game, fell into that better way category.

Because it is awful easy to get caught up in a soccer mom mentality, willing do whatever it takes to see my kid succeed.

Winning the battle.

But what do I risk losing when I choose the temporary and immediate satisfaction of a less excellent way?

Five Minute Friday ~ Tired (of those who try and explain and justify instead of using another's criticisms or observations as the impetus to jump start much needed change - myself sometimes included)

I had a conversation with a teacher friend of mine recently. At the private Christian school where this teacher works, support personnel (i.e. speech and language therapists, occupational therapists, learning specialists, etc.) are not employed by the school. They are either hired by the parents or are provided by the public system to ensure that children with identified disabilities (and individualized education plans) receive the necessary adaptations and services that will allow them to genuinely access and profit from their education. My teacher friend decided one day to ask one of these specialists (who was not a believer) if the Christian school where they both worked was any different than the public schools where the specialist was also employed. 

The specialist's response was surprising.

As a nonChristian outsider, the specialist said that the parents with their focus on protecting marriage and the nuclear family as well as their involvement in the school and the lives of their children was definitely different. This individual also remarked that students were, in general, more obedient, polite and respectful - although certainly not perfect. Textbooks, teaching materials and lessons also often reflected the different worldview of those adhering to the Christian faith. All of that is exactly what we would expect to hear. 

So, what's so surprising?

It was the final question. My friend then asked the specialist if there was anything different about the teachers at the Christian school. 

"No, not really,"  the specialist replied.

As a teacher, a Christian teacher, one who has worked in both public, private and international settings, my only response was: "Ouch!" And - I was deeply convicted.

I can easily (and more or less logically) explain away the specialist's observation:

1. Most who enter the field of teaching do so because they care about children, want to see them grow and thrive, reach their potential and perhaps, someday, help make our world a better place. As all have been created in the image of God, this is clearly God's image shining through -certainly possible even in someone who does not yet follow him.
2. Good teaching practices are good teaching practices and we can't expect Christian schools to be the only ones using them.
3. This specialist did not understand because s/he did not have the Holy Spirit helping him/her to interpret what s/he saw.
4. The specialist responded with his/her own personal agenda, perhaps less than truthfully.

Or, I (or we - Christian teachers) could ask God to reveal if there is something we need to change in Christian education.

Of course, that's a dangerous question. 

What if an honest answer reveals that I need to change?

What if the problem is not simply the content of the education, but rather the process by which I'm communicating that content? 

(five minute timer sounded here)

As a Christian teacher, I should be concerned about excellence: end results - excellence, observable and measurable; behavior that adheres to Christian principles and traditions. But does this drive for excellence render other important qualities expendable? Do I control (i.e. by rules and regulation and suffocating supervision) so much that I take away occasions for my students to choose and then experience the results and/or consequences of their choices? Do I model service and sacrifice while never giving my students opportunity to do the same? Do I continually demand performance, never allowing my students to experience grace demonstrated?

What if that specialist never saw the difference in school staff because s/he did not see people who loved the Lord their God with all their heart, soul and mind AND people who loved their neighbors (other staff and personnel, students, parents) as themselves. Jesus was the one who said to his disciples: ""By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13.35, NASB)

Yes, I'm tired.

I'm tired of people who should know better - whose first response is defensive, striving to justify the status quo, clinging to past and present traditions and never willing to consider that maybe they need to change. I'm tired of Christians who walk in fear and who thus can't consider the testimony, observations or suggestions of others "outside the fold." Yes, greater is He that is in us than he who is in the world... and we forget that God has spoken truth in many ways - His Word, His Son, His prophets, His creation, His people... even a pagan king and a donkey.

And I'm tired of always having to battle that exact same impulse in moi-même each time I'm confronted with yet another incongruity in my life, family and ministry. 

The Illusion of Control

There was what some have labeled "a terrorist attack" in our town last night. One or two armed men went into a mosque at the end of evening prayers and started shooting. Six dead. Several more injured, some gravely.

I spent a nice chunk of time today listening to radio commentators discuss the event, listening to some of my Quebecois friends talk about the event, listening to my daughter explain how orchestra practice today was watching a movie because the teacher was stressed and distressed by the event. Each of these conversations was characterized by disbelief that such an event had happened here, and by a trepidation of what else might happen - of what such an attack signified for their future.

People here, at least for the next few days, will feel unsettled and as though life seems out of control. Distant events and tragedies that only happen in far away places on the news just happened down the hill. It isn't supposed to happen like that - and unless you live life like a roller coaster junkie, most don't like that feeling, especially when it touches things that are valued and precious, like life. When terrorism and violence strike close to home (i.e. less than 10 miles from my house), you get a healthy glimpse of what is reality for many in this world.

It makes people used to the insulation very uncomfortable, indignant and wondering if their world is careening out of control.

It is - if they are wondering about their ability to keep "life" under control.

One of the things I learned quickly after moving overseas was that most of the control that I thought I had was, in reality, nothing more than illusion.

The first time I felt terrorist activity hit close to home, the owner of a radio station where Tim had some of our weekly radio programs broadcast drove over a bomb buried in the sand, in town, in Niamey. He died. The next day we were warned when driving on unpaved roads to make sure you followed the clear tracks of a previous vehicle and to never drive through loose sand. At first it was scary. Then it became habit, one that I didn't even realize was so ingrained until we moved back to the States and I actually drove down a dirt road. I felt uneasy and didn't know why until I realized that it was because I couldn't follow any tracks - it had been too dry and the wind quickly did away with any tracks.

The next time, two expats were kidnapped from a restaurant, literally just down the street from our doctor's office and a few blocks distant from our organization's office.

Next, it was watching helicopters fly up the river, by and over our house, fighting terrorists who'd captured several cities in the northern part of Mali.

Then it was the admonition to take a different path to any regular place so that habits and patterns weren't obvious.

Or having soldiers search through the groceries in the back of the car because we lived within the security perimeter surrounding the US Embassy.

Or having our pastor call us and tell us to stay home from church because they feared expat presence might further draw attention to their worship service.

Or being told to shelter in place the day my parents were to arrive for a visit. There'd been a prison break, and no one knew for sure what was going on in town. My biggest fear was that we wouldn't be able to get to the airport to get my mom and dad.

Or reading that almost every church in the city had been burned and looted.

Or receiving a message from one friend still serving in Niamey that another friend from a sister organization had been kidnapped by terrorists.

The nature of these sorts of events is that usually, you don't know you are in danger until it is too late. There is no way to know. You are going about life, not engaging in any sort of risky behavior and then...

I don't fear terrorism. I despise it. My heart aches for those who've lost because of it, for those touched by it, for those who feel they have to resort to using it. I don't want such violence to touch me or those I know and love. I don't want it to touch anyone, anywhere. I think there are things we can do to be wise and to minimize danger. But apart from God's protection and His decision that He still has things on this earth for me to do, I don't think I can control if such an event happens to me or not. Not by where I choose to live. Not by who I choose to allow into my life. Not by who I choose to try and keep out of my country.

What I do fear is the potential influence that such events have on those around me, those who still live with this illusion that some formula or set of procedures will give them control and keep such an event from taking place in their town, or from harming them or someone they care about. Those aren't bad desires, but decisions and procedures and policies that develop out of a spirit of fear - that is the real power given to those who choose to manipulate by terror. "God has not given us a spirit of fear, but has given us His Spirit, who fills us with power, love and sound mind." (how one back translation of 2 Timothy 2.7 - my life verse - has been rendered, but I don't remember which one any more).

I fear the me-first, sensationalistic and materialistic world - and what my children are learning as they become adults in a society that worships self, fame, money, sex and power. I fear that even with diligence, it will creep into our worldviews, and? We. Won't. Even. Notice.

As I was talking with one of my girls about the events that transpired in Quebec City last night, and the reactions she saw at school today, she made an interesting observation: "Mama, we aren't like other religions. We don't need the government protecting us because we already have an all powerful Someone protecting us." We have God on our side.

I'm not in control. It isn't a comfortable feeling. And I don't want to imply that I've figured out the right course of action to take. But what I've been reading of late makes me very, very uncomfortable...

Not being in control isn't nearly as scary as wondering what consequences there will be if we allow fear to become the motivating factor in our decisions - all to try and maintain some illusion of control.

photo credit: gmayster01 on & off 

... Ryder in the storm " via photopin (license)

photo credit: P. Marioné 

armée du salut via photopin (license)

Have you come to take away our souls?

Have you ever prayed to the Lord and asked Him to show you something… anything… beyond any shadow of any doubt... just so you can be sure?

I have... I still do... some times, some days...

My husband and I have often discussed this. He rarely doubts God, rarely questions if He is true, if He is good, if Jesus is Who He says He is and really did come and do what the Scriptures say He did. I, on the other hand, struggle with doubt more often than I care to admit.

In John 10.24, Jesus spoke to a group gathered around Him, Jews who had come to the temple for the Festival of Dedication. Today more commonly called Hanukkah, or the Festival of Lights, was not one of the original commemoration ceremonies instituted by God. Rather, it was/is a remembrance – according to rabbinic tradition – of a very specific provision by God. At the same time, it recalls what could seem to some an “inconsequential in the grand scheme of things” miracle. Historically this miracle took place in the time between the Old and New Testaments: Seleucid king Antiochus Ephiphanes desecrated the Jewish temple, forcing the Jews to abandon God’s prescribed system of worship and sacrifices. God's chosen people were obliged to adopt pagan rituals until the Maccabees (a group of Jewish freedom fighters) refused, rose up and overthrew the Seleucids. Once the Jews had regained access to the temple, they found a single, small, sealed jug of olive oil that had not been profaned and was, thus, acceptable for use in worship. They used this oil to light the temple menorah, expecting the oil to suffice for only a single day; miraculously, it endured for eight - the amount of time needed for more oil to be made ready. Thus, the Jews gathered around Jesus were in Jerusalem celebrating and remembering miraculous provision.

Not only that, but they had gathered in a location where God had traditionally accomplished great things (Matthew Henry), Solomon's Colonnade. 

At such a place, for such a purpose, at such a time, the Jews listened… and then confronted... Jesus. Standing in the presence of the most miraculous of all provisions, the Messiah of the World, in a place where the evidence of God’s hand had been so clearly present, the Jews asked Jesus a rather blunt question.

Most commentators suppose that the primary goal of this question was to waylay Him.

Look at some of the different renditions/translations of their question:

• “…and said unto him, how long dost thou make us doubt?” (Gill)
• “how long dost thou take away our soul?” as per the Vulgate Latin, Syriac, Persic, and Ethiopic versions 
• “wherefore dost thou steal away our minds with words?” (Nonnus)

The Jews charge Christ with taking away their souls, or stealing away their hearts by hiding Himself from them. Strong words.

I find I can often easily identify with the Jews in this passage....

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Please join me over at Missionary Mom's Companion, to read the rest of this post.

“I would I had a thousand lives that I might give them...”

On Aug. 27, 1888 while working in Zhenjiang, Lottie Moon made the above statement finishing with the words "...for China."

It's one of those inspirational missionary quotes likely to land on a striking or haunting photo featuring those in this world who most likely don't know Jesus. The desired response is conviction and motivation. Get people moving, doing, giving, going, supporting, praying, partnering... something... anything! Animate and embolden others so that they engage and global missions benefits.

It is also one of those quotes that usually prompts me to self-evaluate, asking: "Can I say the same...?

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When a colleague fails ~

How are we supposed to act when a colleague sins?

It happens, and I’m not talking about the respectable sins with which we all struggle. I’m talking about the big ones – the ones that result in missionaries sent home from the field or pastors asked to leave their churches…

What are we to do? How are we supposed to act?

I know what sorts of behaviors and attitudes surface most naturally in me.

I criticize. Blame. Ostracize. Shame.

I want to gossip – even though I usually manage to restrain myself. I convince myself I could NEVER sin that sin – at least not the same way nor as sordidly as my colleague did… I sigh as I wonder how the ministry will ever weather the repercussions.

I want to disqualify that person from ever being part of “my team,” again. I might thank God for protecting me from such a wretched mistake, possibly praying, “Thank You, God, that I am not like those those who are unrighteous, who steal, those who commit <that really bad sin>… and Lord, especially that I’m not like____________” filling in the blank with the name of my “fallen” colleague.

Jesus had some pretty strong words for such an attitude...

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Are you a "nogwogist?" Would you want to be?

Most who know me know that I'm a special education teacher. I've written several transition plans to help young people move successfully from secondary school into a post secondary school setting, and I care about equal access - not just to education but to life opportunities - for individuals with disabilities.

When I saw this book, I knew I HAD to read it...

The subtitle on the cover of No Greatness without Goodness, by Randy Lewis, pretty well sums it up. The book is all about "how a father's love changed a company and sparked a movement." When Randy and his wife's son Austin received a diagnosis of autism, life changed... drastically. As Randy started considering the future... the next moments... next weeks... next years... next days of life for his son, he decided to do something that would benefit not just his son, but many - and perhaps by example, all - individuals with disabilities. He wanted his son to someday have the security of a job. As the senior executive in Walgreen's, responsible for the functioning of the distribution centers of one of the largest and fastest growing pharmaceutical retailers in the United States, Randy set as his goal the creation of an inclusive workplace where those with disabilities would be employed under the same conditions, held to the same standards, for equal pay and with equal benefits - as their typically abled counterparts.

Not only is the story an authentic glimpse into life with a child like Austin, it is an encouraging and challenging one. The chapters are short and each one has a key point Mr. Lewis wants to make. He succeeds. As I finished the book, I realized that I'd dog-eared at least 20 plus pages where there were quotes, short stories, examples... something I wanted to go back and reread, write down, think on further, etc.

Some of those things I dog-eared?

• "Look deeper, even into troubles. There is gold to be found everywhere." (p. 27)
• "Principles are only the starting point. If you want to make a difference in the world, you need to act on what you believe." (p. 50)
• "The willingness to fail is the first step toward success." (p. 61) 
• "Compassion stirs us to remove the pain of the world. Justice stirs us to remove its cause." (p. 69)
• "It's time to ask yourself, 'If we can't, who can? Who else will make greatness and goodness rhyme?'" (p. 81) 
• "When people say 'best practice,' think best practice so far. If no one has ever done something before, that's an opportunity, not a stop sign." (p. 87)
• "Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood." - a quote of the 19th century architect Daniel Burnham (p. 97)
• Competence is like money that keeps earning interest. One day you can cash it in for an even bigger prize." (p. 103) 
• "We were no longer strangers doing a job; we were men and women coming together to do something important... Use every opportunity to help others see meaning in their work. They will be transformed from bricklayers to cathedral builders." (pp. 104,105)
• "Leaders must work consciously, constantly, and conspicuously to drive out fear... It stands in the way of greatness." (pp. 112,113)
• "We can delegate authority but not responsibility." (p. 124)
• "...many of the scenarios we imagine with dread never happen.... There were problems that we didn't anticipate, of course.... Uncertainty makes people jittery. The best question someone brought up at one of our planning meetings was 'What about the problems we haven't thought of?' I assured everyone that unforeseen problems weren't just a possibility but a certainty and that we would address those occasions as they came up.... We were doing something new, with few precedents to guide us. This meant that we would have to deal with uncertainty and depend on discovery along the way. It was more like blazing a new trail than like making the morning commute. Innovation is a journey, not a commute." (pp 126,127)
• "Doubt and inertia are the status quo's best friends. They always say no to change, risk and innovation." p. 132
• "Don't let the prospect of difficulty stand in the way of the grand possibility." (p. 135)
• "Forget about losing face. Worry about what will happen if you don't have the courage to keep going." (p. 141)
• "[Call] disabilities 'positive distractions' ...[Give] people the freedom to be themselves, with no need to hid their disabilities." (p. 181,182)
• "The workers at Habitat were men and women with obvious challenges. There was no hiding here. And there was no shame... here a disability was just a distraction from the typical, not a flaw in the person's humanity. Brokenness was not a source of shame, nor were gifts a source of pride. There was no 'worthiness' test." (p. 183)
• "There is no 'them'; there is just 'us.' Making that idea a reality changes the workplace. And the world." (p. 184) 
• "Set a clear and elevating goal that inspires and challenges. Focus on what can be, not on what can go wrong." (p. 189) 
• "It takes longer than you think to overcome history. Cultural change does not happen overnight; it requires years of reinforcement and constant attention. As every athlete knows, it takes more effort to stay in shape than it does to get in shape." (p. 193)
• "Greatness is proprietary, but goodness can be shared without being diminished." (p. 197) 
• "Greatness requires continuous energy to maintain and stands at a single point in time. Acts of goodness, in contrast, have a life and energy of their own and touch others in unpredictable ways." (p. 206)
• "As exhilarating as your own success is, it doesn't compare with the joy of helping others succeed. Everybody wins."

There are even more quote worthy phrases and sentences all throughout the book. This book is so much more than the dry story of the steps Walgreen's took to create an inclusive work environment. It is a gentle but exciting exhortation in the importance of seeing individual people, not objectives... a charismatic challenge to begin making changes, even when uncomfortable, for the benefit of those who've not received benefit before... a resounding reminder that there really is no greatness without goodness.

*************************************

Are you a nogwogist?

A nogwogist is someone who believes that:

1. no achievement can be considered great if detrimental to the common good
2. a leadership philosophy which seeks to maximize the benefit of all who are impacted by its decisions; ethical leadership; selfless leadership: it is about us not me.
3. a belief that it is possible and desirable seek to reconcile the disparate facets of our lives and embrace the best of all: e.g., achieve excellence, do rewarding work, make a difference and leave the world a better place; to be one person at home and the same person at work; combine good business and good citizenship; do well and do good.

Do you want to be? If so, how will you go about it?

photo credit: John C Abell via photopin cc

Five Minute Friday ~ ...Ways to Say Goodbye

Anyone else's teens waste significant portions of time and find inordinate amounts of humor in staring at YouTube videos?

Mine do.

At least a couple of times each week, one of those teens will come running to me Kindle afire with the latest "thing" among their peers, which - because of their TCK experience - is a wide and varied group, with friends literally all over the world.

Last summer, this song was one of those things. Maybe because we'd just finished a painful, hard but also right season of ending and striving to do so well, this song struck a chord. I hadn't thought about it for months, but today, when I saw the word "finish," this song's melody was the first thing that popped into mind.

This song takes a very tongue-in-cheek look at a "break-up." Gal decides she no longer wants to date guy and ends it. Guy doesn't know what to say to all his friends and acquaintances and therefore comes up with all sorts of fantastical lies to explain to people why they are no longer a couple.  

My heart is paralyzed

My head was oversized

I'll take the high road like I should

You said it's not meant to be

That it's not you, it's me

You're leaving now for my own good

That's cool, but if my friends ask where you are I'm gonna say

She went down in an airplane

Fried getting suntanned

Fell in a cement mixer full of quicksand

Help me, help me, I'm no good at goodbyes!

She met a shark under water

Fell and no one caught her

I returned everything I ever bought her

Help me, help me, I'm all out of lies

And ways to say you died

My pride still feels the sting

You were my everything

Some day I'll find a love like yours (a love like yours)

She'll think I'm Superman

Not super minivan

How could you leave on Yom Kippur?

That's cool, but if my friends ask where you are I'm gonna say

She was caught in a mudslide

Eaten by a lion

Got run over by a crappy purple Scion

Help me, help me, I'm no good at goodbyes!

She dried up in the desert

Drowned in a hot tub

Danced to death at an east side night club

Help me, help me, I'm all out of lies

And ways to say you died

I wanna live a thousand lives with you

I wanna be the one you're dying to love...

But you don't want to

That's cool, but if my friends ask where you are I'm gonna say

That's cool, but if my friends ask where you are I'm gonna say

She went down in an airplane

Fried getting suntanned

Fell in a cement mixer full of quicksand

Help me, help me, I'm no good at goodbyes!

She met a shark under water

Fell and no one caught her

I returned everything I ever bought her

Help me, help me, I'm all out of lies

She was caught in a mudslide

Eaten by a lion

Got run over by a crappy purple Scion

Help me, help me, I'm no good at goodbyes!

She dried up in the desert

Drowned in a hot tub

Danced to death at an east side night club

Help me, help me, I'm all out of lies

And ways to say you died

The music video is absurd and quite frankly, ridiculous... as are the lyrics. It is usually the kind of thing I roll my eyes at and quickly try to forget.

I'll say it again ~ Maybe because we'd just finished a painful, hard but also right season of ending, this song hit close to home. We hadn't "broken up," at least not in the sense of this song. But God had convinced us that we wouldn't, at least not in the immediate future, be returning to that desert land in W. Africa that had totally captured our hearts and been our home for nearly 15 years.

Some days, our decision felt good and right.

But on a whole lot of days, it felt like failure: 

• that we weren't dedicated enough, 
• that our family had become more important than God, 
• that the inconveniences of life finally got to us, 
• that we were self-serving, 
• that - ultimately - we were "copping out," 
• that people would think we were weak, 
• that we'd wasted a huge chunk of our lives, 
• that we couldn't really be listening to God
• that we were disobedient and selfish...

Or worst of all?

...that we'd lost any vision.

Sometimes it felt this way because of the questions people would ask, confusion expressed as they tried to understand, or even actual not nice or kind comments. And the temptation was great, just as in this song, to embellish the truth - making threats seem a little larger than what we really experienced, drawing focus on the hard or scary or uncomfortable or unfair...

...instead of the mostly beautifully wonderful.

But most of the time, I couldn't trace that temptation back to anything other than simply a battle that waging inside: 

I wanted to convince my world I'd finished 

everything very well, with God-given grace and empowerment,

so I'd look good.

Oops!

Actually, "Oops!" is a gross understatement

For that's sin.

Seeking for myself any glory that only ever and rightly belongs to God.

And after struggling through that season of rebellion, after recognizing and confessing and seeking forgiveness for that sin, and then realizing that by God's grace and thanks to a hubby with lots of integrity - I didn't cross that line into hyperbole.

Now I can look back and see that in some areas, I did, by God's grace while living challenging circumstances so far out of my capacity to handle, finish well.

I can also look back and see things where I didn't finish well - and how I'm learning through those failures.

**************************************************************************************************

Head on over to Lisa-Jo's if you want to join us for this 5MF 

-actually turned into a 15MF for me- 

and be sure to link up, or comment and let me know.

I'd love to see what you write on the topic of "Finish."

*Song 50 Ways to Say Goodbye

by Train