Can You Fly a Plane?

     The year was 1964. David Harris was waiting nervously for his turn for an interview with the American Airlines. Any applicant would have been nervous, but David was especially so. Over the past few weeks he had been rejected again and again. His job options were running out. Would this be one more disappointment?
    At last he entered the chief pilot's office. After the polite greetings were exchanged, David didn't mince words. "Before we proceed," he told the official before him, "I want you to know that I am black."
    The chief pilot looked steadily back at the man in front of him. With his light skin, it would have been easy for David to pass as white. There was no awkward pause, no stuttering reply. The answer was direct and simple. "This is American Airlines," the chief pilot said, "and we don't care if you're black, white, or chartreuse, we only want to know, can you fly a plane?"
    We come to God confessing our faults. We attempt to explain to Him that we are not perfect. We do our best to make it clear we don't have all the abilities that we see in others.
    But God doesn't care about our abilities. He doesn't care that we are not perfect. He doesn't care about our failings.
    What He does care about is our ability to receive His love. What matters to Him is our willingness to serve. The thing He longs to see is the humble, graceful acceptance of how He has created us. 
    It's so easy to think that our social standing or our ability to do good works will somehow make a difference in God's desire for us. We imagine that we need to be "good enough" before He will stoop low enough to sprinkle His cleansing blood on our souls. We believe He is looking for some semblance of perfection.
    He isn't.
    God doesn't care if we are the most wretched of sinners. He isn't bothered by a lack of cooking skills or an IQ that doesn't seem to measure up. He isn't even deterred if you admit to Him that you cannot fly the proverbial plane. He only wants to know, will you accept His gifts?
    You can lay your doubts and worries at His feet. You can express your inadequacies all you like. It makes Him no difference. God is more interested in your willingness than in your perfection. 
    "But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."  (Romans 5:8) There was no waiting around for us to get our act together. He didn't confirm with us first that we were going to be serious about serving Him. No, it was a free gift. He doesn't care if we are white, black, or chartreuse. He wants you. He wants me.
    David Harris became the first commercial airline pilot of African American heritage. It didn't happen on its own. He still had to fill in an application. He still had to show up. He still was courageous enough to mention something he was afraid would get him kicked out.
    It is the same with us. Show up at prayer time. Be completely honest with yourself and with God. Let Him know that you want to accept whatever He has for you. Just as the chief pilot's words of reassurance were surely music to David's ears, the love and forgiveness of God will be music to your heart.
    There, in the service of the Almighty, is a fulfillment more beautiful than you have imagined. And you are wanted. With all your faults, with your quirks, your disappointments, your weaknesses.
    You.
    Just as you are.

    

It's a Climb

    I'm willing to work on projects that spark my creativity for hours. I will rearrange and sketch and ponder and write lists in order to achieve something that ignites a fire in my mind. I'm not so great at hum-drum daily chores. I like things to be neat and clean, but I also like to find the easiest, quickest way to make it happen. 

    Unfortunately, this tendency shows up in my spiritual life as well.

    I was walking through a valley, crying out to God. Why were things so hard? Where was the joy? Isn't Christian life supposed to bring happiness? Why was everything so dark?

    But then I remembered. We weren't promised perfect joy and happiness. We weren't promised days of sunshine. We were never told that valleys wouldn't exist. Instead, we are told to expect tribulation. It's not a "sometimes" or a "maybe." John 16:33 says: "These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." 

    When I read this verse and others like it I tend to gloss over the tribulation. I focus on the peace and the good cheer. I don't want to face tribulation. Or if I must, I want to believe it won't be so bad. Maybe just a few battles that get my adrenaline pumping, where I flourish a sword and face down my enemies, then go back to living my peaceful life of good cheer.

    That's not reality. In fact, it's not often the big battles that are the hardest to fight. No, it's the everyday climb of self denial and hum-drum faithfulness. The little decisions that earn no recognition. The choice to have morning devotions. The effort to change negative thought patterns. The constant resolve to do what is right, not what is easy. "He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much" (Luke 16:10a)

    We are encouraged to run with patience, to press toward the mark, to be not weary. My flesh isn't interested in the discomforts, the straightforward plodding, the endless hiking. My earthly mind rebels at the thought of denying myself the little pleasures offered in the world around me, whispered in my ear by the tempter.

    I want to take my eyes off the journey and look at the destination. Instead of focusing on how difficult the road, I want to remember that every weary step, each labored breath is taking me closer to my Jesus, closer to the Glory He has prepared. I want to find joy in replacing my fleshly desires with submission to His will. I want to live my life eager for the fulfillment of promises to come, happy to suffer whatever discomforts He asks of me here on earth.

    And one day you and I shall stand before the beautiful gates of our eternal home and realize, fully realize, that Heaven is truly worth it all.

    

It's a Climb

I was walking with my Savior,

Pleading for His blessed favor,

For the mountains all were looming threateningly.

I begged that He not tarry,

But my hardships He would carry,

All the little things that seem so big to me.

But He touched my heart in kindness,

Slowly washed away my blindness,

As He strove to show me what was really true:

Said, "You're seeking blue skies with no trial,

Easy pathways, no denial,

But that's not the journey I have promised you!"

"For it's a climb!

There's a mountain summit waiting,

Throw aside your hesitating,

For I'll go with you each and every day.

I've walked with you through the valley,

Now lift up your head and rally,

For I'll surely stay beside you all the way!

You shall stand someday up higher,

And know 'twas worth the fire,

Worth the struggle, worth the bruises, worth your time!

And we'll sing and shout together

In that happy great Forever,

Take up courage, claim the mountain, start the climb!"

"Oh, I know you've traveled cliff sides,

And you've found yourself in high tides,

And you thought perhaps you'd finally rest awhile;

But you must call to recollection 

Every time that My direction

Slowly changed your tears into a happy smile.

For although it isn't pleasant

In this moment of the present

I've a home in Glory all prepared for you.

But you've got to carry crosses,

Not count earth's joys as losses,

As denying self you learn to choose to do."

"Yes, it's a climb!

There'll be boulders you must grapple,

And temptation as an apple

Surely will be waiting on a tree.

But you must not fear tomorrow,

Must not shrink in doubt or sorrow,

For each day you will climb beside of Me!

See, the mountaintop is calling,

Do not fear that rocks be falling,

Only take the steps I show, one at a time.

And someday up in Glory

You will sing and tell the story,

And be thankful for the mountain and the climb!

4-6-22

Malleable

    The Bible speaks in several places comparing our lives to gold (1 Peter 1:7, Zechariah 13:9, Job 23:10). Most often, this comparison refers to the unpleasant things in life we must go through. But the thing that has impressed me about gold is its malleability.

    Gold is the most malleable of all metals. One ounce can be beaten into a sheet measuring 300 square feet. It can be drawn into thin wires. It can be melted and poured into molds to be given a new shape, forming to the circumstances surrounding it. 

    I have been thinking about the things we surround ourselves with. As the hours slip by, we are surrounded with influences. Always influences. Influences for good or for bad. We find our thought patterns are malleable, forming to the beauty and inspiration of nature or to the restlessness of a world on social media or the fears and worries of the news. 
    These are real things, all of them. We likely cannot keep from being touched by them in some form, but continual exposure does change one's mindset. And we are malleable. 
    We may not recognize the first few times our thoughts begin to change. Scrolling Pinterest doesn't seem so bad. But then we find ourselves comparing our creative ventures to the perfection we see there. Or when we plan the redecorating of our house and we cannot be happy unless it looks like the rooms we know exist in other people's houses. 
    Or we see all the glossy magazine images of women with perfect skin and hair and teeth. And we feel badly about ourselves, about the way God made us, because we don't look like all those perfect photos. And instead of being happy with who we are, we start coming up with ways to look better or feel better, trying to learn to smile like the women in the pictures.
    Reading the news isn't bad. One ought not walk around ignorant of the world we live in. But suddenly we find that our phones are suggesting that we read stories about celebrities or politics or sports or conspiracies and we find ourselves checking more often for updates. We are anxious to hear the latest news on our chosen topics, more anxious than we are to read the latest Messenger or Daily Readings. And one day we find ourselves living in fear, forgetting to trust, underestimating the power of God.
    For some of us, it is books that are the culprit. We find ourselves captivated with stories of people who are not Christians. We can't expect the author to conform completely to our ideals of purity and nonresistance. It isn't our fault the writer chose to use foul language. We tell ourselves we know better, we won't let false doctrine trip us up. We try to skip or skim, but it is still there, and we find to our dismay that these wrong ideas and bad words come back, unbidden, at the most inopportune times. Because we are malleable.
    God created us to be malleable so that we could be molded to His will. In His perfect plan we, His precious children, are brought forth as gold through the fires of life, beautiful and shining, useful for His purpose. Yet Satan is not blind to our malleability. He likes to apply only a little heat, not too uncomfortable for us comfort-loving mortals, a slight pressure here, a wearing away there that we hardly notice, in order to conform us more to His way and less to God's. He's OK with taking his time. It's fine with him if our thoughts are turned only a bit at a time. He knows the end results will be in his favor.
    May we ever be careful of the influences we allow in our lives, taking care that we are molded only to the shape of our Creator. Because He created us and has given us the beautiful gift of choice. We can choose to dwell more in nature, to read more in the Bible, to engage in deep conversations. Because we are malleable, and these influences will help us more than the ones for which our flesh has a natural attraction. 

    Someday the carefulness and self-denial will pay off, and we will be able to say, as Job: "My foot hath held his steps, his way have I kept, and not declined. Neither have I gone back from the commandment of his lips; I have esteemed the words of his mouth more than my necessary food." (Job 23:11-12)

    Being malleable is not bad. The importance lies in what we allow ourselves to adapt to. Choose wisely. 

    

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?