Dreamer Turned Athlete

     Easter morning. A group of women. A stone rolled away. Cries of dismay. Running footsteps echo in the garden as they hurry to spread the word.
    Peter and John decide to go and see for themselves. They hurry through the morning mist. Long strides, leaning forward. The closer they get to the sacred spot, the greater the anticipation of what they will find. The steps quicken into a run. 
    Peter has always been the athletic one. Spontaneous, perhaps, but also quick and nimble in the village games he played as a boy. John, on the other hand, was a somewhat somber child, choosing to slip away to the sea, climb the rocks, and watch the water lap against the shore. The tiny boats toiling on the great expanse of turbulent blue made him think of himself: a tiny speck in an unpredictable world. His uncles laughed at him and called him a dreamer.
    And so it was Peter who had won every discipline of balance, every contest of strength, each race of speed. But not today.
    This morning John runs faster than he has ever run before. He ignores the burning in his lungs, the ragged breaths squeezing their way our of his heaving chest, the broken sticks strewn across the way from yesterday's storm. And, for the first time, he is quicker than Peter. 
    He leans against the heavy stone that has been rolled to one side and peers into the gloom, trembling. And he sees nothing. Nothing but an empty tomb and linen cloths folded neatly. And in that instant he believes.
    That is the power of the resurrection. The power that can turn a dreamer into an athlete. The power that can change a timid heart into a brave warrior, confusion into direction, and despair into hope. 
    All through the Bible we see the power of change: an orphaned Jewish girl becomes queen, a humble shepherd becomes the national hero by slaying a giant, a baby in the bulrushes rescued by a princess changes the lives of an entire nation. But in the era of the resurrection the changes have become different. Instead of external distinctions, we see the changes become internal: a heart blackened with sin becomes white, an ugly temper becomes a spirit of peace, a life of selfishness becomes willing to sacrifice everything.
    The resurrection is not only a story told at Easter. It is a living, burning flame that radiates from the heart of the believer all year long. Don't think your human weaknesses, the battles you've been fighting, the family traits handed down through the generations are unconquerable. Because of the power of the resurrection there is hope. 
    Self righteousness can become teachable.

    Pride can be turned into humility.
    Hate can become love.
    The power of the resurrection is there for you year round. There are miracles waiting, changes in store, dreamers turned into athletes. 
    Visit the tomb. Peer into the empty spaces. Live every moment of each day in the power of the resurrection.

Regrets

    I was once visiting with a woman who had lived a rather rocky life. She was describing some of the things she had done and places she had been, including at least one near-death experience. Then she made a startling remark that I have never forgotten. "You know," she said, "even with all the things I've done, I have no regrets."

    I couldn't wrap my mind around that statement. No regrets? Was that possible? I've pondered that thought for years as I have struggled with my own regrets. There are many. Things I shouldn't have done, things I failed to do, days I didn't take the time to count the cost of my actions. Slowly, I've come to a new understanding of that statement from so long ago.

    I believe regrets are something we all deal with. We are human. We make mistakes and poor choices. But I also believe regrets are something we must learn to let go. 

    Please understand, I don't mean carelessly shrugging away our guilt. Rather, regret should be viewed as a catalyst to change. It is a powerful tool of education that need not be considered negative unless we fail to learn from it. 

    It is sometimes hardest, however, to accept we have made mistakes which we regret. We don't like to be reminded of our imperfection. Making amends to the best of our ability is the first step. Seeking forgiveness from God and from those whom we have wronged is important. But then what? Really it's simple: Leave the rest with God.

    Regrets were not meant to make us feel overwhelmed and helpless. They are meant to help us grow, and then we need to let them go. Paul says, "Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 3:13-14) 

    Paul certainly knew about regrets. He also knew the importance of moving on. Why else would he speak of forgetting things which are behind? And he doesn't make it sound like something that just happened; he speaks of it as something he actively does. He had learned to make the choice to let the past go. 

    We, too, must choose to have faith in the cleansing blood. We must learn to rely on a love greater than our understanding. Like Paul, we must press toward the mark of the high calling.

    Letting go of regret is vitally important to a Christian. Too many of us tend to keep regret as a pet, feeding and tending to it daily. Some of us even use our regret as a false benchmark of humility. Neither of these mindsets will make us profitable servants of Christ. Instead, we will hobble on the pathway, barely able to travel with little or no ability to help others on the way.

    Instead of freely sharing inspirations and caring words, we pacify ourselves by thinking that, "I don't really have much to give. I'm not a very good Christian, after all. See all my failures?" Because we are so focused on our own failures instead of the cleansing blood, we will not be able to witness the Joy of the Spirit, only the burden of our regrets.

    You can't change the past. You can't take away your imperfections or your humanity, but you can grasp the future. "Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new (2 Corinthians 5:17). Letting go of regrets is an act of faith in God's forgiveness. It is a mark of belief in His promises. And, yes, it is an act of hope for your future.

    Have you been hanging on to things that are holding you back in your Christian journey? You don't need to. Just as a student is not kept in the same grade until he earns perfect marks in every subject, God does not want you to linger in the past. Learn what you can from the mistakes you made, and then move forward into a future of hope. He's already there, waiting.

    Are you ready?

Rememberance

    It was Sunday, March 15, 2020, when the world changed forever, and I wasn't even home. In fact, I was enjoying the beautiful land of Nicaragua. Messages started pouring into the little mission house where my sister and I were visiting. Church cancelled. School called off. Toilet paper sold out. Groceries hard to find. We couldn't believe it. Was this our beloved home country? It sounded surreal. Only a couple days before we had laughed at the woman on the plane wearing gloves and a face mask who sanitized her seatback tray and arm rests.

    Our visit passed quickly. As we prepared to head home to the land of our birth, we started getting messages about the cancellation of flights, difficulties getting into or out of countries, state lines patrolled by police, and enforced quarantines once safely on our native sod. 

    We returned to a changed America. Fear hung heavy in the airports. The interstates were empty. Signs everywhere reminded one of the importance of hand washing. At one point we approached an overpass where a lone figure stood, stoically holding the Stars and Stripes. His way, I imagine, of reminding everyone to stand together.

    That is what I love about Covid. The solidarity. The standing together. I know there has been a lot said about the negative parts of Covid, and I know the negatives are real, but for just one moment here I want to look for the silver lining.

    I want to remember the school board members that spent time coaching us through remote teaching. I want to remember the Cool Whip container of leftovers deposited on our porch while we social distanced. I want to remember the friend who said, "I'm not afraid of you!" and sat on our swing for half an hour and chatted. I mustn't forget the other friend who dropped off some firewood so we could enjoy a cozy blaze in the evenings.

    I want the special feeling we got driving around the neighborhood going on a Bear Hunt. Just knowing that so many people were trying to cheer up others was a wonderful boost to the morale! I want to remember the way folks held drive ins for donuts, ice cream, and engagements. I want the same enthusiasm with which we listened to songs and services that were called out, truly seeking food for our souls in the sudden uncertainties with which we were surrounded. I want to remember those who spent hours reading books for people to listen to, mailing cards to the residents in care homes, and sending stickers to children missing kindergarten.

    No, I don't want Covid to settle on us like a pall as it did in the early days two years ago, but I do want the same love and care for one another. I want the feeling of being one big family. Of pulling together. Of sharing in one another's pain and grief. Of looking for ways to cheer someone else's days.

    It was easy to work together when we saw the common enemy. It was easy to give of ourselves when we lived not knowing what would happen from one day to the next. It was easy to communicate our love for others when we didn't know how much longer we would have them to love.

    As Christians, we are in a similar situation every day, but it's so easy to forget, to brush it off, to become complacent. We need to raise the bloodstained banner of Jesus high, we need to reach out to one another and communicate our love through words and actions. We need to give of ourselves, share our struggles, maybe try things we have never done before in order to keep up the morale of the Army of Christ.  

    Life has returned to a new normal for most of us. As we go about our busy schedules, it's easy to forget to think of others. Sometimes it seems life is so comfortable we even forget we are in the midst of a terrible and deadly war. We become slack, careless, selfish. We tend to think there will be a tomorrow in which to say, "I love you," or to meet a friend at a coffee shop. 

    Let's take the bright side of Covid and turn it into a lesson. Remember to fight every day for the right, to reach out to those who have not yet joined the Army marching under the cross of Christ, to stand together, a force united in the love of God, waiting until the pandemic of sin is over and we can rest together in the beautiful land of Heaven.

    During the pandemic, I posted a status on WhatsApp promising to write poems for the first fifteen people who sent me their address and a topic. I received nearly fifty responses before I removed the status! There were some great topic suggestions, some of which were quite a challenge. 

    You can see the topics of the first fifteen responses below in the order in which they came in. I had a lot of fun writing these poems, (even if they took me far too long to finish due to some procrastination!) and although I was not able to write for everyone that replied, I want to share these poems with you now. The links below will take you to a new blog that I am launching, Schoolmarm on Break. 

    There, you will find all 19 of these "Covid Poems." For those of you who received the originals, you may notice a few changes have been made, hopefully to improve the ease of reading. In the future I plan to use Schoolmarm on Break for writing endeavors which are somewhat less devotional than those found on A Schoolmarm's Musings.

Country Road

Choosing Possessions or Travel

Challenges of Remote Teaching

Wind Turbines

Boredom Versus Enthusiasm

Spring Skies

Being a Mother-in -Law

Nighttime

When Life Hands You Lemons

Home on the Range

Zimbabwe

A Cardinal, fondly known as "Thumper"

Dream House

Llamas

Missing People at Night

And the four people that were not in the first fifteen but got poems anyhow!

Books

Magic of a Seed

Chickens

Masks

Look at Me

     A number of years ago, my mom and her younger sister would sometimes sing duets in front of church. Understandably this made them nervous. My grandfather gave them wise advice when they confided their worries to him. "If you get nervous," he would say, "just look at me."
    Have you felt nervous lately? Maybe your feelings indicator leans closer to the "scared" or "terrified" reading. I wouldn't blame you. There are numerous things crowding in around us giving us a feeling of unease. Many of us are facing unknowns. Some are trying to catch their balance after an unexpected happening. Others are mourning the loss of one they love. There are thousands trying to reconcile the invasion and tragedies happening in their homeland with the God of Love they have been told about.
    Don't let the confusion confound you. In all that is happening in the world around us, He is the calm in the storm. His love is the anchor never changing. His hand is the warmth we search for when we are weary. His beauty is what we see when we turn our faces to Him.
    Just as Peter turned his eyes to the Savior as he trod the Sea of Galilee, we, too, must look ever at our Lord. It was no burden to Jesus to have Peter's eyes upon Him. He wanted Peter to succeed more than even Peter wanted success. Yet, in His great wisdom, Jesus knew that Peter needed to learn to look to Him. Surely Peter remembered this lesson later and looked to Jesus even when He was no longer physically there!
    I've gone through times in my life when I feel I can't see Jesus. Sometimes it seems I catch just a glimpse, but then the swell of my emotions or ambitions rise up between us and I struggle for another glimpse. Sometimes the rain of circumstances proves a heavy curtain separating us. I wonder if He is still there. Does He even care? Maybe He has grown tired of walking the stormy sea with me and has left for a warm fire and a dry set of clothes.
    But that's not our Jesus. He tells us "...and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." (Matthew 28:20)
    Look to Him. He's there, no matter your tribulation or despair. Keep your eyes fastened to His. Don't doubt His presence or His love for you. Just as He spoke to Peter, He speaks to us: "Be of good cheer, it is I, be not afraid, Come." (Matthew 14:27)
    His call is for each one of us. The answer is a decision we have to make in our own hearts. Will we trust Him? Even though the world as we have known it may be falling to pieces around our ears? Will we step onward in faith, looking only ever at Jesus as we go? 
    It may mean letting go of some of our inhibitions. It may mean leaving the familiar. Perhaps it will mean learning new skills to fight the doubts and fears that cloud our minds. But the call is personal. It is for you, for me. He's asking us to walk in faith upon the waves. "If you get nervous," he says, "just look at Me."
    Will you go?

    

A Loved Miracle

     You've heard the phrase before, but I'll say it again: "She's a walking miracle!" 
    It's incredible what some of these "miracles" have been through. Illnesses that took them close enough to eternity to reach out a hand and touch the gates, vehicle accidents that left everything and everyone in the vicinity demolished, abusive situations where most would be left unable to function in society, yet here she is, holding down a nine to five, making friends, reaching out to others, standing on her own two feet. 
    I look on at these walking miracles in awe. Surely they awaken every morning with a prayer of thanksgiving on their lips. I am suspicious they experience life in a different way than I do. The lens through which they view eternity and relationships must be so much clearer than my own. 
    Here's the truth: each one of us is a miracle. A living, breathing, loved miracle.
    With a hand of artistry we were crafted before we ever knew of earth, of Heaven, of love. With painstaking precision, the great Creator planned every line of your face, each kinky hair that refuses to be flattened, the way one foot turns out when you walk. He chose carefully the talents you would have, the family traits you would carry, the weaknesses you would need to learn to lean on Him. And He said it was good. 
    The Creator does not compare His creation. He did not make them to compare. He has made each an individual piece of art. In His eyes, there are only differences, not "perfect" and "ugly." There is variety, not "smart" and "incompetent." To His heart, there is only loved, not "lovable" and "unworthy."
    And He has made each a miracle.
    The human body is a miracle of engineering: the beating of the heart, the filling of the lungs, the thousands of pores that open and close, the eyes that know how to shut when they feel endangered. But that is not the biggest miracle.
    The greater miracle is the way one can become a completely new person by accepting the Savior's love and sacrifice. The greater miracle is how a heart that has tasted of forgiveness can learn to forgive. The greater miracle is how  a heart that has accepted it is loved can learn to share love with others.
    You are a miracle. A perfect creation. A chosen life. 
    Don't question the miracle. Some have turned it away, refusing to believe that it is true. Others have scoffed and ridiculed the idea. Many have believed it is true for others, but wistfully admit they don't imagine themselves to be among the number.
    Accept the love. Have faith in the Creator. Believe you are a miracle. Trust yourself to His arms. It doesn't matter what you are facing, He will be there. He is not a God of half miracles. He is a God of completion, of miracles that grow, of hearts that fill with light.
    It doesn't take a near death experience to see things in life to be thankful for. There are more miracles than the closing of a lion's mouth or water being turned into wine. You are one of them. May we ever praise our gracious Creator for He has "...covered me in my mother's womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works." (Psalm 139:13-14)

    

Nosy

     "This is probably just me being nosy...," the message began. 

    Yes, it is! I thought indignantly. If you know it's being nosy, than why are you asking? I was surprised at the strength of my reaction. The message wasn't even to me. I was only an eavesdropper on someone else playing their messages aloud.
    Then another thought slid softly into my mind. "You don't know everything. Maybe after she sent that message, she regretted it. Maybe she thought of deleting it, but it was already too late. Maybe later God will show her it wasn't necessary. Haven't you done things like that before?"
    My heart surely blushed in shame, for I knew all too well the truth. The number of times I have regretted my actions or my words, the times that God has patiently worked with me in one area or another while I slipped and stumbled and struggled up the path. Yet here I was, expecting perfection from someone else. Believing another person, who is just as human as I, ought to get it right the very first time. 
    There are sins that must be called sin. I understand that. But there are also many places where the Bible lauds patience, longsuffering, and forbearance. God has so much patience for my faults. Isn't it only reasonable that I should extend that love and consideration to others?
    We seem to have a rather uncomfortable talent for noticing the faults of others, but we often miss our chance to give others the room they need to grow. When we see someone stumbling on the road as they work with themselves, let's not make the road so narrow it becomes impossible for them to walk. God's road has many notices posted that you and I sometimes fail to observe. Let us not judge harshly someone else that has done the same! Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou art that judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things. (Romans 2:1)
    There may be a time we are required to help someone else see a sign she has missed. In humility we will find our way much more open to share if we admit that we, too, have not always read signs in the past. A failure to recognize our own imperfections will lead us very near a ditch of self righteousness. We may find our ability to love as we should becomes stymied. Without realizing it, our salvation may become more imperiled than that of the person of whom we are feeling disapproval. And thinkest thou this, O man, that judgest them which do such things, and doest the same, that thou shalt escape the judgement of God? (Romans 2:3)
    As we continue our journey withholding judgement, we may find ourselves surprised at some of the gifts and talents of those we have been tempted to accuse. Instead of taking note of their failures, we will find ourselves in a place of joy and peace as we recognize the victories they have gained. Instead of thinking it our duty to point out each area where they have failed, we can encourage their gifts to grow. Their successes will become an encouragement to our own hearts.

    May we walk carefully together, supporting one another over the stony path, and  appreciate the fact that although we are all tempted, we are in the fight for eternity together.

This Generation

    Tragedy struck the ice skating world, when, on February 15, 1961, eighteen members of the United States figure skating team along with family members, friends, and coaches, were killed in an airplane crash over Belgium. The flight had been heading to Czechoslovakia with the intent to take part in that years World Figure Skating Championship. In all, seventy two people lost their lives.  

    As officials worked to find the cause (it was eventually linked to a possible failure in the instrument that adjusted the tail stabilizer), the decision was made to completely cancel the 1961 Championships in an effort to show solidarity in the grief. 

    President Kennedy made a public statement offering condolences, and a memorial fund, still in operation today, was set up to provide funds to assist with training and tuition for future skaters.

    The impacts of the accident reached far beyond the participation of the United States in the 1961 competition. Indeed, the U.S. found itself somewhat crippled in respect to figure skating for the next number of years. An entire generation of skaters had been wiped out. Some of the top coaches had been killed and were no longer available to train new skaters. 

    In desperation, some very young skaters were pushed to compete at higher levels than normal. A few retired skaters returned to competition. Coaches from other countries were invited to America to assist in training and rebuilding a team from scratch.

    What an impact losing even one generation can have! It doesn't matter if you are part of an older generation or a younger one, youth, young parent, middle aged, or elder, there is still a part for you to play in God's Church. Satan likes to fiddle with the little things, a bolt here, a latch there, maybe the mechanics of some part we are so used to working that we forget to check on it. You know the parts: humility, child training, living by faith, generosity, hospitality, keeping the Sabbath, and all the rest. 

    It is up to each generation to do its part to keep our plane flying. Times change, it is true, but the Church needs the enthusiasm and energy of youth and the wisdom of the elders. Bible-based convictions will not be out of style with those seeking to grow in their Christian lives in spite of the internet providing appealing ideas readily at our fingertips. 

    As we stay faithful and humble, willing to listen and understand one another, the love of God will only bring us closer to each other and to Him. While He has promised that His Church will last until the end, I want to have a greater vision of the beauty that is possible if all generations pray together, trust each other, and build together. Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised; and his greatness is unsearchable. One generation shall praise thy works to another, and shall declare thy mighty acts. (Psalms 145:3-4)

   Someday we will stand together at the gates of Heaven, tired and battle-worn, it is true, but thankful for the help of each generation, the passing down of wisdom, and the wonderful plan God has provided for persons of any age to fill a place in His earthly Kingdom.