Finding Grace and Seeing Christ

      Last week I started a Faith Journey. Let me give you some background about me:

      I grew up in a Christian home. My maternal grandfather was a pastor. He and my grandmother were very active in their church (obviously). I watched them pray and read Scripture. My paternal grandparents were also involved in their church, my grandmother being active in women's ministries and my grandfather serving on the board of directors of the denomination's college. Prayer, Scripture reading and faith was a big part of their lives. 

      I was raised by a church music minister (my dad) and church pianist. We were in church every Sunday morning, Sunday evening and Wednesday evening. It wasn't a "going through the motions" kind of thing. It was a heartfelt desire to be in church. I grew up going to Sunday School, church camp, and memorizing Scripture as part of my church's Bible quiz team. I served on a short term missions experience team because I wanted to be a missionary (God didn't call me to be but I thought I knew better than Him at the time). 

      At the age of 9, on the steps of my dorm at Prairie Camp, I gave my heart to Christ. It was an easy decision to make. Then I figured helping with Bible School every summer, being on the quiz team, going to camp (and eventually being a counselor and, later, the director of the church camp) and serving on a missions team was enough. Shoot, I even went to a Bible college! I was good to go. Or so I thought. 

      I got married and started a family. We raised our kids in church. They were on Bible quiz teams, went to church camp (since I was the director, it was only natural). We weren't the best parents in the world but we did the best we could. We loved them (and still do). We sent them to youth events. Again, I thought I was doing all the things a Christian parent is supposed to do. 

      But then through lies of Satan who kept telling me I wasn't good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, etc (the lies changed often but were loud and frequent), I thought I'd be better off making my own life choices. I made bad ones. I turned away from God. Not like murder and bank robbery type choices. But choices God would have made for me. I still went to church. I still read the Bible. But this time it became more a "going through the motions" type thing. I just really got off track. But then God brought me to my knees. Ok, it was more a giant shove to the floor, slammed to my knees type deal. I've slowly climbed myself out of the pit Satan gladly welcomed me into. 

      I was doing much better but then I started watching "Christians" around me and thinking I didn't come close to measuring up to them. There were some who seemed to think they needed to shout to the world, "I'M A CHRISTIAN!!!" and there were some who quietly whispered it but what I saw on the outside didn't look like what I thought Christ would do. I didn't want to be a part of either of those. So I went to church because that's what I was supposed to do. I had devotions every day because I was supposed to. But I wasn't sure that I wanted to be part of something that I had to either blast in peoples' faces or that was just in name only but my actions had nothing to do with. 

      I read through the Bible two years in a row - the first year I more like skimmed through it, not really paying attention to it that much but the second year I started to highlight things as they jumped out at me. I took more time to see what God might want me to learn. But then this year, I was invited on a Faith Journey. A pastor I follow on Facebook started this journey to help encourage anyone who was willing to take the journey. I knew my faith needed something.So I joined the journey. I receive encouraging e-mails and texts, prayer support, and challenges to pray with people, read chunks of Scripture, etc. I feel a sense of belonging to the body of Christ. Since beginning, I've noticed that the Scripture I read (I'm now on year three of reading the entire Bible in 365 days) seems to come alive. I'm more confident in my faith. This all brings me to what God showed me today. (If you've read this far, congratulations!)

      This  week, I started reading the book "What's So Amazing About Grace? A quote in my reading today really got me thinking. Gordon McDonald said, "You need not be a Christian to build houses, feed the hungry or heal the sick. There is only one thing the world cannot do. It cannot offer grace." It made me wonder what happens when the church doesn't offer grace. I'm not saying "the church" meaning the building where a group of people gathers to worship. I'm saying "the church" meaning those of us who God calls His own. How do we treat people who aren't "as good" as us? People who may have to work harder to do the right thing. People who may miss going to church (the building) once in awhile. People who don't listen to worship music all the time. People who have smoked or consumed alcohol. People who have made mistakes. Do we give them grace? My experience has been that grace isn't always seen in Christians. I'm not saying that all Christians fail to show grace to sinners. But there are those who will point out every way that your life is "wrong." Please know, I will never judge you for the way you are, the way you talk, act, what you eat, etc. God is the only one who has the right to judge you. I'm not a judgmental Christian and never will be. The way you live your life is between you and God. I will show you grace. I will pray with you. I will tell you about the grace of my Savior. But I will NEVER make you feel inferior!

      Now, going back to those Christians who seem to walk around wearing a sign that says, "I'M A CHRISTIAN!!" - I would rather people be able to tell I'm a Christian by the way I talk, how I spend my time, where I spend my free time, how I treat them, how I act when I'm around non-Christians, etc. I shouldn't have to tell people I'm a Christian. They should be able to tell it by the way I live my life. I will gladly share Jesus with anyone. I will pray with anyone who asks me. I pray for people even when they don't ask. But I don't force them to believe what I believe. Again, that's between them and God. I will never be ashamed to tell you what I believe. But I won't force it down your throat. Jesus never did. Why should I? So, I hope you can see Jesus through me. If I have to tell you I'm a Christian, I'm doing it wrong and I need to fix something. 

Devotion

Last night in the quietness of the house, I heard a voice speak this word to me. Devotion. When I think of the word 'devotion' I think of being devoted to something. I think of the thing I'm devoted to being higher on my list of priorities.

I'm devoted to my husband. I'm devoted to my family. These people are way at the top of my list of priorities. I'm devoted to being at work every day I need to be. I'm devoted to taking care of our home, cooking meals, being sure we have food to eat, visiting my neighbor every Tuesday, and the list goes on.

Then this voice asked, "You're devoted to many things. Are you devoted to Me?" *Gulp* Well, I try hard to be. I mean, I read the Bible every day. In fact, I'm on my third time reading through the Bible in a year. I have devotions every morning and every evening. I pray every day. Then this question came: "Does 'going through the motions' mean the same as 'devotion'? Whoa!

The dictionary says devotion means "profound dedication or consecration; earnest attachment to a cause, person, etc.; an assignment or appropriation to any purpose, cause, etc." Well, that sure changes my answer to the question I was asked.

I couldn't help but think of the number of times I'd been reading the Bible but thinking about what I needed to do when I was finished reading for the day. Or I'd be having my morning devotions thinking about what tasks I needed to accomplish that day. I thought about the times I'd just mute the TV while I did my daily Bible reading rather than turn it off...or wait to turn it on until my reading was done. I thought about all those times I'd see a prayer request from a friend on Facebook and tell them I'd be praying. But then I never remembered to actually pray for them.

Starting here and now, those days are done. From now on, TV will not be turned on until my Bible reading is done, I've taken time to think about what God was saying through that Scripture and I've prayed that He would help me to continue chewing on it. If I tell you I'll be praying for you, rest assured I mean it.

Recently, my husband and I watched the movie War Room. It was a tremendous movie! We live in a little house with small closets. I don't have a place I could make into my war room. Besides, I spend more hours awake at work than I do at home. So I've decided my desk area will be my war room. I get into my classroom 30 minutes before students begin arriving. I have lunch at my desk. I have 30 minutes after my last class that I'm at my desk. I have prayer requests taped all around my computer and desk area. I pray over them all throughout the day. I will continue to do that. They say it takes 21 days to create a habit. Yesterday was day 1. In 20 days, I hope that this all comes naturally to me. I hope that it seems normal to spend the first chunk of time at home in the evening sitting in silence listening to God speak to me as I read His Word. I hope I don't have to stick notes all over to remind me to pray for people. I hope I don't have to work so hard to tune life out while I focus on Christ and my devotion to him. TV, text messages and computer games can wait. First, I need to show Jesus that I am devoted to him and not just going through the motions. I urge you to join me.

Simple Celebrations

Today is my Mom's 80th birthday. I called her this morning and started singing "Happy Birthday" to her when she answered. She started laughing hysterically! I couldn't figure out why she was laughing...until she said, "I forgot it was even my birthday!" Folks, I haven't gotten to the point in my life where I forget my birthday yet. In fact, I still want everyone in my path know when it's my birthday. It's the only day I want to be the center of attention.

However, my sweet parents forget when it's their birthday. (My dad will be 80 next week. I already told him to soak up every minute of pointing out he's in his 70s and she's 80). Knowing I couldn't do much for her birthday, I told them to meet me at the grocery store near us which has a Starbucks in it. I figured the least I could do was buy them some good coffee to celebrate.

While we were there, they told me that their outside light (a gas light that's been there for at least my whole life) had been blown out by the strong winds overnight. Dad turned the gas off until the mantles could be replaced. Of course, he is missing a thumb on one hand and can't begin to tie the mantles onto the brackets. But I can :) Oh, and I failed to mention that the heat source in their family room is a gas stove that was now off due to the gas needing to be turned off. Anyway, after coffee, I stopped by, tied the mantles onto the brackets, put them on the light, had him turn the gas back on, I lit the mantles and replaced the gas. Then I went in and got their stove going so they could be warm tonight.

Buying a couple cups of coffee. Tying on some mantles, Getting an outside light back on. Getting a heating stove going. Simple things, right? To me they were. To my Mom (and Dad) they were a huge way to celebrate her birthday!

So, to my Grandma and Grandpa who raised her and my Uncle who graciously didn't kill his big sister (even though I'm sure there were plenty of times he wanted to), I say. "Thank you!!" To my Mom (who won't see this because she's lucky she knows how to check her e-mail), I say, "Happy birthday!!" To each of you reading this I say, "Do things for others even if they seem simple to you. To someone else it might mean the world!"

Random Thoughts

I haven't blogged in a few weeks. God asked me to write weekly. But I keep using the excuse that He's not giving me anything to write so I just skip it. How dare I? Shame on me for thinking I had nothing to write. God never told me it had to be profound. He told me to write. I have thoughts in my head daily. Today, I decided to share something I've been pondering.

I've noticed something about people. Some people do everything in their power to be noticed. Others do everything to stay hidden. Still others stay in the middle. They just want to do what they need to do and move on. I tend to be more in the middle but lean toward the anonymity side. Flamboyant people annoy me. But they also make me feel inferior. Sometimes I wish I were more outgoing. But I'm the way God made me and I can't change that. Flamboyant people are the way God made them and they can't change it either.

So, how can we find some sort of middle ground? I wish I had a magic answer. It would make life easier. What I do know is that, whether you're flamboyant and outgoing or quiet and prefer to stay unnoticed, show respect for the "other side." Quite often, outgoing people come across as thinking they have all the answers and know everything. In reality, God is the only one that has all the answers.

Outgoing people, be sure you're letting the quiet ones know you value and appreciate them. Quiet ones, remember what Eleanor Roosevelt said: "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

Be kind to everyone. You don't have to be friends with everyone in your life. But you do need to show respect and kindness. I don't believe God will ask us why we weren't friends with everyone. But He will ask why we weren't kind. You don't have to let your life be an open book and no one should expect you to be. But be kind. Show respect. Give a smile.

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Ok, sorry if that seemed disjointed. In my defense, I told you it was random thoughts. Now, go be nice!

Well Done

I've heard people say they long to hear Jesus say, "Well done, good and faithful servant" when their time on earth comes. When I think of some people, I can't imagine their warm welcome. Not that I'm being judgmental. I'm just realizing that it's easier to imagine the welcome that awaits in heaven that some will receive. This afternoon, one such person entered into heaven's gates. I have no doubt in my mind that Jesus met him there with a resounding, "WELL DONE, GOOD AND FAITHFUL SERVANT! ENTER YOUR REST."

In fact, I'm picturing lots of things about this particular Home-going. Jim Bennett was a dear friend and classmate of my father's. They attended Bethel College together. He later became the President of Bethel. After retiring from Bethel, he was our pastor at Bethany Missionary Church. I have so many memories of "Papa Jim" as my kids grew up calling him.

I remember he and his wife hosting "afterglow" around the campfire after evening services at Prairie Camp. I remember seeing his smiling face as he walked around the campgrounds when I was a teenage camper. I remember seeing him at Bethel sporting events. He watched my brother play Bethel baseball...A LOT! I'd see him at basketball games when I was working as the shot clock operator when I was in high school.

As an adult, I remember hearing many sermons that spoke to my heart. I remember his sermons about the end times. I will always remember him saying that when it comes to the Tribulation, we should "Pray for pre but prepare for post." I remember him saying, "I know I'm stepping on some toes today and I'm glad!" I remember in December 1990 when my parents and I were in a serious car accident. My dad was air-lifted from Indiana to Michigan because that was the best trauma center at the time. Jim was our pastor then. He drove more than an hour EVERY DAY to visit my dad, his college classmate, in the hospital. When my dad improved enough he could be transferred to our local hospital, Jim was there EVERY DAY! When my dad was sent home from the hospital but had to go to South Bend for therapy several times a week, it was Jim who drove him to his appointments, waited during therapy, then drove him back home, helped him get settled in and then assure Dad he would "be back tomorrow whether you like it or not."

I remember when my daughter was born. It was a Sunday. Our church was having a potluck dinner that day. My parents were at that potluck. It was before cell phones were around (they were bag phones that stayed in the car). I called the church to tell my parents. When the person answering the phone called out for my parents, I heard Jim yell across the fellowship hall, "They can talk to her after I do! I get to find out first!" He was indeed the first one to hear about our new little one. He dedicated her a few weeks later. I remember his holding her in his arms and praying over her.

Before the accident, my dad sang. He had the voice of an angel. Beautiful, resonant, perfect tenor voice. He sang in church often. When he was in college, he sang in the choir and on multiple Gospel teams that traveled all over. After every time my Dad sang in church, Jim would get up there and say, "Al, I still hope that when I die and go to heaven, Jesus lets me sing just like you." Guess what, Papa Jim...that time is now. Sing away, my friend! Sing away.

It was very hard news to share with my father. This was a man he dearly loved. They've known each other since they were teenagers. My heart is sad for my Dad at losing a friend. But my heart breaks for his 4 kids (2 he raised and 2 that were blessed to marry in to the family), grandkids and wife. They are a very special family. But I rejoice in knowing that he heard those words, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

Simple Memories

Today a student walked in wearing what appeared to be striped jeans and a hoodie. He pulled up the hoodie and proudly said, "Look, Mrs. Wohlford! I'm wearing overalls today!" Yes, they were striped Key overalls! I remember a pair of those hanging on the hook on the back of my grandparents' bathroom door. I remember my grandpa proudly wearing them...A LOT!  Key overalls have always made me smile. They've always served as a reminder of my grandpa. To that student I say, "Thank you!" Yes, I told him how happy it made my heart to see him wearing them. I needed that that!

When It's Too Late

14 years ago on September 11, 2001, 2,731 innocent people went to work or about their day in the bustling city. 246 innocent people boarded airplanes to go back to families or to their jobs. 2,977 innocent people didn't know that it would be the last day they would walk this earth.

I'm sure you remember where you were that day when you first heard the news. I was getting ready for work. I had just started working at Elm Road Elementary School the week before that. We were watching the Today Show as we prepared for our work day. The news came on about this horrific plane crash at the World Trade Center in New York City. Thousands of miles away, I crumbled to my knees with this devastating news. America was facing something unimaginable. No, not facing. It had hit us square between the eyes. I remember going through that work day just feeling like we were all going through the motions. We murmured to one another in the hallways, "Have you heard any more news?" At lunch, we silently sat in the lounge just watching the news as it flashed on the screen. The two Towers had collapsed. An empty field in Pennsylvania had been obliterated. The Pentagon had been hit. 19 cowards (don't tell me this wasn't an act of cowardice just as much as it was an act of terrorism) saw nothing wrong with taking the lives of 2,977 innocent people.

Tonight, as I sit here thinking about the anniversary tomorrow, it strikes me that we are never guaranteed one more breath. We never know when we may go to work, to the grocery store, to the park, etc and never come back. We never know when God is going to call us home. While I always hope I have many more years, we have no promises. I've known people close to 100 years old who have come to the end of their life. I've known people who have lost tiny babies. I've known people who have watched their teenagers draw their last breath. I've known people whose lives have come to an end at many ages in between. I will tell you that the ones who knew their days were fleeting due to illness lived their lives with a lot more zest than the ones who didn't.

So I encourage you to live each day as if it may be your last. While I hope God will allow us many more days, weeks, months and years, we can never be too sure. So, tell your family members you love them. Give your kids one more squeeze in the morning. Smile at the person next to you in the waiting room. Wish your cashier a good day. The next moment just might be too late.