Proverbs 31 Woman

We reminded our daughters that today is the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. They had mild curiosity, just enough for us to find some good stories to share. "Good" as in full of value and lessons we need to learn vicariously. Among the places we looked was the National Geographic website. Ted was suitably impressed, and we thought you might like to remember with us some of the horrors and miracles that were a part of that war.

The National Geographic has put together a good archive of stuff about Pearl harbor. So has the Naval Historical Center. On the National Geographic pages there is an archive of survivors stories that are worth perusing. Thne, too, there is the MSNBC Interactive video, another good reminder.

Why does it matter anymore?

I have noticed that most of the people I knew who served in WWII are now in their 90's. Our neighbor who passed away two years ago served through the horrors of GuadalCanal. Because of my few months of exposure to living overseas, he was very open to share about all of the lessons, hardships, emotions and nightmares he remembered. Our few moments of sharing had purpose. His granddaughter knows nothing about self-sacrifice. Her parents were born after the Great War, and have spent their lives consumed with comfort and selfishness. Through his eyes I could see great disappointment with the lack of character that he saw throughout my generation and the one I am raising now. His memories of what it cost to provide a world with the possibility of peace on our shores for the past two generations is my lesson to learn.

Since WWII we have not had a unifying conflict that could ignite the fires of purpose, action, sacrifice and service across borders, ethnicities, languages, and generations and bring all together toward a single goal. And I think we have lost something. Their service, their pain, their sacrifice has made us comfortable. Our comfort has made us despise their example and has left us unprepared to make the sacrifices difficult times require of us.

The lesson I want to learn from Pearl Harbor -- and to pass on to my children -- is that I can enter into a full understanding of something I have not experienced and did not witness but in which I partake by faith and by fellowship, and benefit from because of the gift of another's sacrifice.

In the past two weeks, I have heard it mentioned in three different messages (two at Beaverton Foursquare Church), the idea that if we do not see the value of the price that was paid, then we do not understand the seriousness of sin. Right along with that is the statement of Jesus to Simon when He said "One who is forgiven much, loves much." And then a bit later His comment to Thomas, "Blessed are those who do not see and yet believe."

Pastor Randy has been doing a series on Worship. Yesterday his topic was "Music and Praise." He had given his definition of praise and explained the need for praise a few weeks ago. In this message, he explained that while music is not commanded or defined as worship in the Bible it was demonstrated as part of the human experience in expressing worship.

His opening illustrations were comments on recognizeable music themes. The Michigan Fight Song is incredibly moving for football fans in his home state's stadium. In Oregon, two weeks after the Ducks beat Michigan, the song brings a different reaction. Hearing the "theme music" to Psycho while sitting in a dentists office is not very comforting, and "Star Wars" without John Williams would just be a bunch of grown-up guys playing with flashlights.

The point being that music directs our hearts and emotions into the right place with respect to the task at hand.

Then later he mentioned the situation in which Paul and Silas found themselves in Phillipi. It was an illustration that "resonated" with me and my imagination took over as his analysis continued with Paul and Silas in jail, naked, bleeding, chained, in the dark, cold, hurting, probably in the part of the prison where all the foulness flows toward....
What if Paul turned to Silas and said, "Wanna sing?"
"No," Silas is emphatic.
"Me either," Paul is reflective. "Think God wants us to sing?"
"Hope not."
"Is he still God?"
"Well, yeah."
"Did he change from the afternoon at the river where we encouraged those young believers?"
"That was cool!"
"Same God?"
"Yeah."
"Sing?"
"Well, ok."
"la la la, God is great, la la la."
++++++Booom!!!!++++++

So, Paul and Silas could sing, not because of where they were, or who they were (some super-Christian-hero-guys), or because they thought it would be a "get out of jail free" card, but because in praising God they were declaring their confidence that the same God who was working in hearts on the idyllic riverbank, was the God in charge of their situation in the stinky prison. And if He led them there, it was His responsibility to deal with it. So, they gave God the burden of their circumstances and they could really sing!

Worship expressed as praise through singing can effect great change!

A thought that occurred today: Infinite resources; infinite supply; infinite blessing; infinity for me.

I am ashamed sometimes to keep asking God for money, for provision, for healing, for things, even for "spiritual" things. Today, I actually felt embarassed and unworthy when I was praying for a new car to replace the Buick. I was wondering if our needs and uses for such a vehicle were so much less honorable and worthy than the missionary in Albania that we have prayed for. As if God would have to choose between us. It struck me that an Infinite God has Infinite Resources.

I suppose even my shame is presumptious. Like false humility. In that moment of breathing a prayer over the steering wheel, I felt a distance, a hesitancy, to bring my requests to Him. For that I had to ask forgiveness. Anything that comes between my Lord and me is sinful. Even my emotions.

When my girls need me for something they are so eager to jump into my lap and ask and receive. But already I can see the fear and worry entering their little faces. Sometimes they are not sure they will get everything they want, so they hang back. Sometimes they know they have been caught doing something wrong, so they hang back. Sometimes they don't know how I will respond to them, so they hang back. I don't want my worry or fear to make me hang back from running to my Father's lap and pouring out my heart, my hurt, my needs and my wants.

He doesn't want that either. "Give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares about you." 1 Peter 5:7

Indeed!

After some months of finding no interest in my musings online, I must admit that I allowed myself the indulgence of silence. Then, pleasant surprise, I found the following comment:

"I was excited to find your blog - I used to belong to a chat forum called Proverbs31Woman but it no longer exists. Will you be continuing to post or, as I can see it's now over 3 months since the last one, that it won't be happening anymore?"

Oh, yes!

There will be more.

If my other activities have drawn me away, I apologize. Some confidential business planning has taken up all my spare time in the last few months. But as you can see our new venutre is public, and I can turn my attention toward things I love. Like making sense of our experience in the light of our eternal nature.

Keep looking, perhaps you will be pleasantly surprised, too.

There are times when someone says something pithy and you make a mental note not to forget it, and there are other times when something someone says comes back to you every time you turn around. It was this latter way for me this whole holiday season.

When Pastor Barb started talking about The Journey to Christmas we knew it wouldn't be an ordinary series. Her opening salvo was to ask "What is the first thing a kid says when you get them in the car to go somewhere?" We all knew the answer immediately, "Are we there yet?" She then went on to delve into each recored participants journey that brought them to the events of the First Christmas.

There are so many applications and ponderings to be unwrapped inside her messages and beyond in the theme she chose. But the one that keeps grabbing my attention is the joy of the anticipation. Everything we do in the weeks between Thanksgiving and December 25th are overshadowed with one thought, "Christmas is coming." And somehow that anticipation keeps us sane in the midst of all the crazy things we add to our lives in preparing for Christmas. And we ask, right along with the kids, "Are we there yet?"

So, another Joyful Christmas has come and gone for us this year. And even boxing day is over. All the good wishes and cheer will be packed away. There is a little feeling of loss, as if something important has been misplaced. The kids are playing with their new toys in such an ordinary way. No one is looking forward anymore.

Even I am tempted to say, "I'll take it one day at a time." But I am not ready to give up the Spirit of Christmas quite yet. With a gleam in my eye I looked through a new calendar and counted the days until next Christmas, only 364. And I thought about how big each of my girls will be then. That thought led right into plans for knitting their Christmas gifts. And the anticipation was back.

But it's not just about Christmas, is it. The Joy of the Anticipation that we catch a glimpse of during this holiday season is just the barest shadow of how our souls eagerly await His Transforming Presence. And how we need these earthly reminders to keep our hearts' eyes glistening with the Hope of Heaven.

So, when we get in the car now, and the girls begin their oft rehearsed whine, "How much farther? Have we passed it? Are we there yet?" Ted and I look and each other and smile. There is joy in the journey and a hopeful anticipation that keeps us going until we really do get there.