God eyes...

2015. Two Thousand Fifteen. Twenty Fifteen. A new year.

For many folks, the dawn of a new year brings excitement. Anticipation for things to come. Dreams for change. A fresh start.

For me, the new year brings about a time of reflection. A time for looking back on God's faithfulness. A heart of thankfulness for the blessings of life. An appreciation for the joy in the journey.

This week, God reminded me why I started this blog a few years ago. This blog titled, Look for God, with the web address of godeyesblog.blogspot.com sprang from a simple desire to look for, then find God in the every day, ordinary things of life. But God surprised me. He transformed simple and ordinary into something extraordinary. He blessed me with the gift of seeing him everywhere, in everything, in every day.

Oh, yes, my friends, there is joy in the journey.

This week, Jesus spoke to me from the writings in the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus told me I had a gift. He told me I had eyes to see him. Jesus told me I had ears to hear him. I am blessed, my friends, and so are you. Enjoy these words from Matthew 13 (MSG):

10 The disciples came up and asked, “Why do you tell stories?”

11-15 He replied, “You’ve been given insight into God’s kingdom. You know how it works. Not everybody has this gift, this insight; it hasn’t been given to them. Whenever someone has a ready heart for this, the insights and understandings flow freely. But if there is no readiness, any trace of receptivity soon disappears. That’s why I tell stories: to create readiness, to nudge the people toward receptive insight. In their present state they can stare till doomsday and not see it, listen till they’re blue in the face and not get it. I don’t want Isaiah’s forecast repeated all over again:

Your ears are open but you don’t hear a thing.
    Your eyes are awake but you don’t see a thing.
The people are blockheads!
They stick their fingers in their ears
    so they won’t have to listen;
They screw their eyes shut
    so they won’t have to look,
    so they won’t have to deal with me face-to-face
    and let me heal them.

16-17 “But you have God-blessed eyes—eyes that see! And God-blessed ears—ears that hear! A lot of people, prophets and humble believers among them, would have given anything to see what you are seeing, to hear what you are hearing, but never had the chance.

"God-blessed eyes - eyes that see!" God eyes.



Thank you, God, for the God eyes. And thank you, dear friends, for joining me and seeing God through the lens of faith.

Grace and peace to you in the new year!

Patiently waiting...

Friday on my way in to work, I was struck by the beauty of the waning crescent moon. You know the one; it looks like a lop-sided sliver of light on the left side of the moon. And yet, if you look closer, the entire moon is visible as a gray orb. It's a rare sight this time of year since a clear sky in Michigan is seldom seen in December.

Photo from trekearth.com posted by kajenn

The moon reminded me of the spinning circle on my computer. You know the one; it's the one that irritates us as we wait for the program or page to open.

We're impatient people. We've become accustomed to having things in an instant. Contact at the push of a button or content on the click of a key. We seldom need to wait for what we want.

As we anticipate Christmas in just a few, short days, I'm working on waiting in patient expectation. I'm waiting with joy for the revelation of God's Good News. I'm rejoicing in the gift of God's love. I'm relishing the greatest present of all: God with us, in us, among us.

Isaiah 9:6 (The Message);

  For a child has been born—for us!

    the gift of a son—for us!

He’ll take over

    the running of the world.

His names will be: Amazing Counselor,

    Strong God,

Eternal Father,

    Prince of Wholeness.

Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Thrifted...

I'm Dutch by name and by marriage. I love our Dutch heritage for its hard working mindset. I love our Dutch culture for its deep faith. But I'm totally in love with being Dutch for getting a great deal!

Shopping thrift stores and spending mornings scouring garage sales are hands down my favorite hobbies. Nothing matches the joy of discovering a treasure. Whether it be a trinket to fill in that bare spot on my bookshelf, or that perfect belt, scarf or sweater to complete that hard-to-match skirt, a shopping trophy is reason for celebration.

I know. Thrift stores, garage sales and estate sales are full of other people's castoffs.

Junk. Trash. Discards. Throw outs.



All the more reason to celebrate!

One look around my home gives testament to my hobby. From my vantage point on my couch, I spot books, teapots, picture frames, tins, 7up bottles, pitchers,  cookie jars, and even an old window frame that I've thrifted. Upon opening my closet door, I realize that easily three quarters of my clothing is second hand.



I wouldn't have it any other way. I relish wearing an outfit that cost me a buck or two. It tickles me to display antique ornaments from a bygone era. I find joy in rescuing the cast offs, because to me they have worth beyond compare. I love saving things that were destined for destruction.

In a similar way, God knew I needed saving. He knew I was destined for destruction. That's why I am joy-filled at the thought of his rescue.

I Corinthians 1:26-31 (The Message):

Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don’t see many of “the brightest and the best” among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these “nobodies” to expose the hollow pretensions of the “somebodies”? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ. That’s why we have the saying, “If you’re going to blow a horn, blow a trumpet for God.”

I'm glad Jesus is a thrifter, are you?

Out of This World

I'm currently immersed in a Bible study with an amazing group of women. Until a few short months ago, I didn't even know half of these fellow sisters in Christ. But God, in his undeniable wisdom, assembled this group of women from a variety of places. Hope College. Friends of mine. Friends of a coworker. Community members.

We just began studying, The Good and Beautiful Community, the third in a series of books by author, James Bryan Smith. It's a life changing study that has touched me beyond words. This week's study collided with an earlier visual from nature. As I've shared so many times, I smile when God orchestrates my encounters around a current theme. And so it was again this past week.

On Wednesday, as I left the Keppel House on the campus of Hope College, I passed this humongous group of hydrangea bushes. I've admired their showy flowers throughout the summer. They are nothing short of spectacular. But as the crisp days of fall are turning the world into God's eye candy, so too, these flowers are aging to a pink hue.

What caught my attention was one flower. One flower that stood out among the crowd.

It was if this bright, white flower hadn't received the message that the slow death of fall was all around. This branch was an alien in the world around it. This flower was peculiar.

Today, I started reading The Good and Beautiful Community. The first chapter is entitled, The Peculiar Community. In this chapter, the author reminds us how we, as Christians, are peculiar in the world. We stand out as odd. Weird even, to the world around us. And the way we stand out, or should stand out, is in a way that catches the attention of those around us. Not for us to boast, but in a spirit of humility, with actions that surprise the world with peculiarity.

Peter talks about this peculiarity in I Peter 2:11-12 (here from my old NIV text):

Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul. Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they may accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.

Today, as I reflect on my life, I ask God to help me stand out as odd. Weird. Peculiar. May my white flower stand out among the dying blooms of the world, so that others may see, and know, that God lives in me.

Harvest

I'll admit it. While I'd like to be a country girl, I can't shake the city girl from me. When we first moved to our home twenty-some years ago, my city girl rationale thought that farmers planted sweet corn on the acres and acres of fields nearby. Oops. In my defense, the only corn I encountered as a girl was sweet corn. On the cob. That I ate. My husband still laughs at my lack of knowledge regarding field corn.

During all the years we've lived in this neck of the woods, I've enjoyed watching the growing season progress. Late spring finds the farmers hard at work, preparing the fields for planting. As summer settles in, the adage, "knee-high by the Fourth of July," is more like, "waist-high by the Fourth of July." By August, the corn on either side of Van Buren Street is so tall, it forms a wall of green, towering high above my car.

Come October, it's harvest time. The lush green stalks have turned a sandy hue and the towering wall is destined for the combine. Rows and rows of corn stand at attention. Waiting.

Jesus talks about a harvest in Matthew 9, where he tasks the disciples with praying for harvest workers:

35 Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. 36 When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 37 Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. 38 Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”

We are tasked to join the workers in the Lord's harvest field. The mission field is in my backyard; in your backyard. As I ponder the Scriptures, I realize that Jesus took every moment, every encounter, every situation to share the news of God's kingdom.

So my prayer in this time of harvest will be:

Today, Lord, help me share the news of your kingdom in the ordinary encounters of my life. Nudge me and raise my awareness to those in need around me. Help me make the small things matter. The fields are ripe. Help me spring into action for you.

Lunar Eclipse

I'm a bit ridiculous when it comes to sky events. I've been know to bundle up in a winter coat and blanket and lay in a lawn chair on my deck for the chance to watch a winter season meteor shower. I've set up a telescope in the corner of our living room to get a close up look at the moon's craters. I've gotten a stiff neck watching the twinkling brights on a clear night while standing in my back yard. So it's no surprise that this morning's lunar eclipse had me giddy with delight.

Our house sits in the woods, surrounded by towering sixty foot pines, so a clear view of the lower western sky is impossible. Because of this, my first view of this morning's phenomenon was in the rear view mirror of my car. Wow-ee! At each stop sign, I turned around to get a better look, and as I headed south on the highway, I hate to admit that my focus was not on the road. Rather, my neck craned to the right in an attempt to enjoy every minute of the changing moon. At one point, I actually pulled off into an industrial drive in an attempt to take photos with my phone.

Upon arriving at work,  I scoped the parking lot for the best possible photo opportunity. Unfortunately, a cell phone is not the ideal camera and my photos turned out poorly, with grainy, blurry shots. Even so, I found a fellow sky enthusiast already at work, and I grabbed her so we could enjoy the last part of the eclipse together.

A lunar eclipse occurs when the moon passes behind the Earth into its shadow. To visualize this, sit with your back to a lamp's bright light. Make a fist with your hand and move it from right to left in front of your body. As your fist (moon), body (Earth) and the lamp (Sun) are in perfect alignment, your fist will be in your body's shadow representing an eclipse. Pretty cool, huh?

The moon does not emit its own light; its hard, rocky surface reflects the sun's light. On its own, it has no light. Likewise, when the earth gets in the way of the sun, the moon cannot reflect the sun's light, hence, a lunar eclipse. Check out the photos below for a great visual of today's eclipse (photos courtesy of Louis Kraay):

As Christians, we're commissioned to reflect the light of Jesus. Just as the moon has no light of its own, we too, can only reflect the light of our "sun," Jesus, by standing in his light. When we are in right alignment with him, we shine his light brightly for all to see. But when we allow things to get in the way of Jesus, his light gets eclipsed.

People. Stuff. Money. Busyness. Distraction. All these "things" snuff out our Jesus light.

John 3:19-21 (The Message):
“This is the crisis we’re in: God-light streamed into the world, but men and women everywhere ran for the darkness. They went for the darkness because they were not really interested in pleasing God. Everyone who makes a practice of doing evil, addicted to denial and illusion, hates God-light and won’t come near it, fearing a painful exposure. But anyone working and living in truth and reality welcomes God-light so the work can be seen for the God-work it is.”

Dear Lord, thank you for streaming your God-light into my ordinary life. Today, dear Lord, help my rocky surface reflect your light. Help me to shine brightly for you. Amen and amen.

Life.is.short.

It's been a long while since I've written. But this week was a week that screamed out,

"Life is short."

Which is God's way of telling me to pay attention.

Two tragedies this week brushed up against the ho-hum of my workday week.

My morning commute takes me southbound on US 31 into Holland. On Tuesday morning, before the 7:00 a.m. hour, the sea of red and blue police lights pierced the inky blackness in an alarm of fierce danger near the Riley Street intersection. As traffic slowed to a crawl, I silently wondered why all the police cars were present when there was no indication of an accident. No ambulance. No damaged vehicles.

Later in the day, I heard the report that a fifteen year old West Ottawa student had been struck and killed while crossing the highway.

"Life is short."

Wednesday afternoon, I received word from a friend that our former coworker had been crushed in an accident at his home. He died shortly afterward at the hospital. His wife posted a fun message on Facebook just hours earlier. And then, life changed.

"Life is short."

And just now, as I ponder a verse to attach to this blog post, Bible Gateway's verse of the day pops up:

"Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring."
Proverbs 27:1 (NIV)

Thanks, God, for reminding me of your gift of life. Today, I vow to remember just how precious life is. I will enjoy every moment of today. I will celebrate my family and the love we share. And I will try my best to be a shining light for Jesus in my speech and in my actions.

Craft-O-Rama

Pinterest. Etsy. Facebook. All these sites have a plethora of ideas. Ideas for making. Ideas for baking. Ideas ripe for swiping.

I've done my share of saving various ideas to my board, my wall or my documents. I've done my share of tweaking things I've seen posted on these sites. But my ultimate favorite thing is coming up with my own ideas. I can spend hours in my craft room fussing, creating, wrecking and recreating.

Pure joy comes from creating something original. Something new. Something that's one-of-a-kind...like the pumpkin shown here.

Sunday we had the pleasure of visiting and worshiping at Pillar Church in Holland. Pastor Jon Brown's sermon was entitled All Things New: Anniversary Edition. From Genesis 1, he read the creation story. He shared how God spoke his creation into being and how he saw and delighted in how good it was.

Leaving church on Sunday reminded me how I'm God's creation. He created me as an original. I'm one-of-a-kind. And God delights in me. My love for creating connects me with my Creator. In some small way, it helps me understand how he brought the world to life.

So here, I'll share one of my written creations in the form of a children's story that I wrote many years ago. With eyes wide with wonder, imagine your Creator  

THE WORLD'S FIRST WEEK

by Teresa De Graaf

In the beginning, God was there

When darkness covered everywhere.

But God had a big plan you see,

He set forth forming all to be.

"Let there be light," was His command.

Bright golden light shone as He planned.

And there was dark, and there was light,

The world's first day passed by His sight.

And God stepped back and there He stood

And everything He saw was good.

Day number two God spoke and said,

"I'd like to see a space ahead."

The domed blue burst forth way up high

And water formed below the sky.

And God stepped back and there He stood

And everything He saw was good.

And when the third day rolled around

God formed the beaches, islands - GROUND!

He sprinkled water everywhere

To form the rivers, seas with care.

And God stepped back and there He stood

And everything He saw was good.

He placed the sun to shine so bright,

The stars and moon to light the night.

The sparkling, twinkling, glowing brights.

Day number four God made the lights.

And God stepped back and there He stood

And everything He saw was good.

A fish to splash about the sea,

A bird to glide into the tree.

And many more to join them too.

Day five saw creatures in the blue.

And God stepped back and there He stood

And everything He saw was good.

The sixth day dawned so bright and fair,

And God placed creatures everywhere.

The zebra, monkey, kangaroo,

The squirrel, raccoon and chipmunk too.

And God stepped back and there He stood

And everything He saw was good.

God paused, then said, "Well let me see,

I think it's time for company,

A special time has come to be  -

To form someone who's quite like me."

And so God took the dust of earth 

And breathed in man to give him birth.

God wanted man to have a wife.

He took man's rib to give her life.

God gave them both the earth to keep,

Gardens to roam and fruits to reap.

And God stepped back and there He stood

And everything was VERY good.

God rested on the seventh day,

A holy day He planned His way.

A day to give our work a rest,

To worship Him; give Him our best.

Ribbet...

Our pond is alive. Hundreds, if not thousands, of tadpoles have emerged from the black necklace-like strands of eggs. The water's surface ripples and swirls as their fish-like bodies gyrate in the motion of life.

Soon, stubby nubs will appear alongside their tails. In an evolution of body, these nubs will elongate into legs and their strange snubby nobs will develop into heads. In a span of a few weeks, the transformation will be complete. A new amphibian emerges. The frog.

One look at these strange creatures of today yields no clue as to their final bodies. It's as if a magician waved his wand and a strange transformation occurred.

Fast forward a few weeks to today. The tadpoles are no more. The bug-eyed, pulsating-throated frogs have emerged. The miracle of God's nature has come full circle:

Have you ever wondered about what transformation we have to look forward to as Christians? The Bible speaks of the promise of new bodies in Philippians 3:

13b But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus...20 But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, 21 who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.

What a wonderful promise for our life to come.

Achoo!

I wish I had a dollar for every time I've sneezed in my lifetime. I believe I'd be a millionaire. Seriously. My sneezes typically come in threesomes, but occasionally I'll sneeze four or five times in a row. I've heard,  "God bless you!" a lot. Prior to having a tonsillectomy last year, I tallied twenty to thirty sneezes a day. 

Post tonsillectomy, I'm down to six or so a day. But recently, with pollen season at its peak, so is the sneezing.

The University of Rochester Medical Center's website explains a sneeze this way:

"Everybody sneezes. You can try to hold it back, but a sneeze usually just can't be stopped. And that's a good thing, because it's actually one of the body's natural defenses, designed to help get rid of foreign invaders that sneak into your nose and threaten your lungs and other body parts. The medical term for sneezing is sternutation, a rather complex process that includes your brain, nerves, and muscles all over your body.
Your nose is lined with tiny hairs called cilia that catch foreign invaders, such as dust, pollen, dander, and other allergens flying around in the air. When these particles start tickling your nose, your brain is sent a message to get them out. Your brain triggers the sneeze response, and the force of the sneeze helps expel the offenders from the nose.
A sneeze seems fairly straightforward, but it’s the result of an impressive chain of events. Your abdominal muscles, chest muscles, and even eyelid muscles (think about how your eyes automatically close when you sneeze) are all in play, in concert with your lungs, which initiate the forceful air that is sent up through your windpipe, throat, and nasal passages."

Sometimes, foreign invaders try to enter my life too. Anger, jealousy and gossip, to name a few. A multitude of unholy actions attempt to take over. I'm reminded of Paul's words in Colossians 3. He talks about what we need to do to these foreign invaders:

"...now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. 9 Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices 10 and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator."

When foreign invaders attempt to enter my life, I have the ultimate protection available. I'm able to "sneeze" off those things with the help of an Almighty God who offers an impenetrable armor against those sneaky forces.

God bless you!



 

Skinny Squirrel

This is our dog, Bessie. Bess is a Brittany Spaniel who was born to hunt. She is a natural pointer and extremely intelligent. Bessie is a people pleasing sweetheart with a personality to match. It only takes one look at her ears to read her mood. Relaxed ears = relaxed mood. Fluffed up ears = ticked off. Perky ears = happy. Droopy, limp ears = naughty and knows it.


Bessie makes her dwelling in our pole barn. Don't feel bad for her. She's got it pretty darn good out there. She has lots of company. In fact, the barn is my husband's second home.


In good weather, I routinely walk Bess on a trail that circles our property. Since no leash is required, Bess wanders about following the plethora of scents that abound in the woods. Bessie frequently uncovers precious treasure.

Dog treasure. Mice. Birds. Plain old stink.

Her latest treasure: a black squirrel.

Weeks ago, Bess pranced up to me with her ears perky, proudly displaying the fat, black squirrel in her mouth. How the squirrel met its demise is unknown. I'd like to think it died a natural death, not a death at the paws and teeth of my pet. All I know for sure is that on this day, she began a new walk ritual. Her ritual goes like this: Dig up squirrel. Prance happily. Find new hiding spot. Bury squirrel.

For three weeks, Bessie has not deviated from this ritual. It seems that squirrel has been buried on every foot of our property. For three weeks, the squirrel has diminished in girth. For three weeks, the squirrel has increased in disgusting odor.

For three weeks, Bess has been consumed. She cannot control herself.

I have some stinking treasure in my life too. Treasure I bury. Treasure I constantly dig back up. My stinky treasure involves my mouth. More specifically my words. My speech and words don't always reflect the life I claim in Jesus. I know it's my nemesis, so when I wake each morning, I say a prayer that goes something like this: 'Please, God, help me to speak only those things that are uplifting. Help me not to get caught up in gossip and help my lips bring words of encouragement."

Yep. And that lasts until I walk from my house. And then, so frequently, I can't contain myself. I dig up that nastiness and participate in unhealthy talk.

Paul talks about his trouble with stinky ways in Romans 7:

"14 We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. 15 I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. 16 And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. 17 As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. 18 For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature.[c] For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

21 So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. 22 For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; 23 but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. 24 What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? 25 Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature[d] a slave to the law of sin."

Ah, yes. I love verse 25! "Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!" I can't do it on my own, but only through Christ Jesus!  Yes!

As for Bessie? The black squirrel is gone. And today when I let her out, she returned with a new prize...a fat, BROWN squirrel. It never ends.

Change of a lifetime

We celebrated Easter a little over a week ago. Since then, my devotions seem to focus on new life. The new life we have as believers. Resurrected life.

Back in December, at the beginning of what turned out to be a record setting winter, I wrote about Holes. In a blast to the past, I'm sharing a photo from that blog post here:

In case you're wondering, these are bulbs. Tulip bulbs. Planted in December.

And today, here is that same soil:

Yep. Hard to believe those brown, egg-shaped "rocks" turned into budding tulips that will burst forth with vibrant color in a few days. There is no comparison between bulb and flower.

Earthly body. Resurrected body. Jesus' death, resurrection and ascension give us the promise of eternal life. There's no way to know what change will occur, but we are promised a miraculous transformation. While mysterious, the change is guaranteed as explained in I Corinthians 15:35-38, here from The Message:

"Some skeptic is sure to ask, “Show me how resurrection works. Give me a diagram; draw me a picture. What does this ‘resurrection body’ look like?” If you look at this question closely, you realize how absurd it is. There are no diagrams for this kind of thing. We do have a parallel experience in gardening. You plant a “dead” seed; soon there is a flourishing plant. There is no visual likeness between seed and plant. You could never guess what a tomato would look like by looking at a tomato seed. What we plant in the soil and what grows out of it don’t look anything alike. The dead body that we bury in the ground and the resurrection body that comes from it will be dramatically different."

Plant the seed of God in your heart. Water the seed with the proclamation, "Jesus is my Savior." The flourishing plant is guaranteed in the season to come.

Happy Spring!

Dirty Dustmop

Saturdays are house cleaning days. Tub cleaning. Bathroom scrubbing. Vacuuming. Laundry. Dusting.

Ah, dusting. I despise dusting. I detest dusting. I plain and simply, hate dusting.

I blame my mom.

When I was a kid, my sisters and I were assigned weekly chores. My chore, among others was - you guessed it - dusting. Now that I think back to those days, it really couldn't have been that big of a deal. We had a family room, living room and dining room, but I really don't remember much about the actual chore of dusting. I guess I developed the loathing due to the fact that dusting was my weekly "have to do."

Fast forward to present day. Since dusting is the dreaded chore, I've tried various methods. I've tried the polish and wipe approach. That is way too time consuming. I've tried the dry Swiffer cloth with its dust-grabbing fibers. This works well but involves too much bending and the texture of the cloth bugs me. My current method involves a microfiber hand held dust mop. This method is simple and quick and much to my liking.


There is one draw back. The instructions supplied with my duster recommend cleaning the removable duster in soapy water. In my opinion, having to wash the duster after use kinda defeats the purpose of "quick and easy." Unfortunately, this fact alone makes it extremely easy for me to disregard the washing step. And, as you can guess, this is NOT a smart idea.

And so it was, that this past Saturday, I lost the war on dust. I pushed the limits and I knew it. I thought, or maybe hoped, I could get one more dusting from my visibly dirty duster. Nada. Nope. Didn't happen. By the time I reached my loft railing, my duster was actually spreading dust instead of picking it up. My loathing, my hastiness, and my lack of following directions did me in.



Sin is my life's dust. It builds up in the blink of an eye. And boy, does it need cleaning. I know for a fact that my sin demands more than a weekly cleaning. A daily scrubbing won't even suffice. I'm sure my sin probably needs several cleanings per hour!

The thing is: I'm not able to wipe myself clean. Confessing my sin to my husband, or a friend, won't take my sin away. Nope. Only one method will make me squeaky clean. I need to go to the One. The One who took the humongous weight of my sin, your sin; in fact the sin of the entire world to ensure my cleanliness.

Jesus. My Savior.

Spit on. Cursed at. Beaten. Tortured. Kicked. Dragged. Nailed, yes nailed to a cross. Crucified. For me. A wretch. Unworthy.

As we enter into Holy Week, the words of Isaiah 53 bring me to my knees in thanksgiving:

2-6 "The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling,
    a scrubby plant in a parched field.
There was nothing attractive about him,
    nothing to cause us to take a second look.
He was looked down on and passed over,
    a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand.
One look at him and people turned away.
    We looked down on him, thought he was scum.
But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—
    our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.
We thought he brought it on himself,
    that God was punishing him for his own failures.
But it was our sins that did that to him,
    that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins!
He took the punishment, and that made us whole.
    Through his bruises we get healed.
We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost.
    We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way.
And God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong,
    on him, on him.."

Jesus took my dirt. He wipes away even the deepest yuck. And I'm clean...oh I'm clean.

Lighten the load...

Today was an incredible day with temperatures flirting the sixty degree mark for the first time in four and a half months! One walk through campus bore testament to the weather.

Bare legs.

T-shirts.

Shorts.

Flip flops.

Students, faculty and staff alike shed jackets, boots and sweaters.

The burden of winter was lifted and the entire campus felt free. Alive. Rejoicing in the gift of new life.

All it took was a change of clothing, or rather a shedding of clothes to feel a new freedom.

A change in wardrobe starts with opening up the closet of our lives.

Colossians 3 (here from the Message):

"You’re done with that old life. It’s like a filthy set of ill-fitting clothes you’ve stripped off and put in the fire. Now you’re dressed in a new wardrobe. Every item of your new way of life is custom-made by the Creator, with his label on it. All the old fashions are now obsolete...From now on everyone is defined by Christ, everyone is included in Christ.

So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it."

Not sure how to change clothes?

Acts 2:38-39

Peter said, “Change your life. Turn to God and be baptized, each of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, so your sins are forgiven. Receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is targeted to you and your children, but also to all who are far away—whomever, in fact, our Master God invites.”

I'm celebrating and changing my wardrobe. How about you?

Manna from Heaven

"Ugh!" It was the first thought that popped into my head this morning when I opened the garage door. Snow on the driveway. Again. I feel trapped in a snow version of Groundhog Day; only minus Bill Murray's sense of humor.

Let's face it: we're winter weary. We've had months of unceasing snow. We dream of green grass and warm temps. We long to exit our homes without having to don down jackets and thermal boots.

So this morning, my first thought was a grumbling response. And then I was struck, almost as if literally by a two-by-four. I was reminded of the wandering Israelites in the desert. God provided for their every need. He sent daily bread, manna, for them every morning. And what did they do? They grumbled and complained. They grumbled to God in spite of his care.

From Numbers, chapter 11: "Now the people complained about their hardships in the hearing of the Lord...the rabble with them began to crave other food, and again the Israelites started wailing and said, “If only we had meat to eat! 5 We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost—also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. 6 But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but this manna!”

And so it is with me. Way too frequently, I grumble. I complain. And this morning, God helped me realize that rather than grumbling, I should be thankful.

So here goes. Here is a list of things for which I should give thanks on this, the 24th day of March, 2014:

• A warm house. I have a roof over my head. I am not homeless.
• A down jacket (or two) plus boots (times a half dozen). I am protected from the cold and my feet stay dry.
• Flannel sheets. Enough said.
• Hot coffee, plus a husband who brews it for me each morning.
• A dependable car to get me to work each day. Ditto for the awesomely stable job that awaits me each work day.
• Health. I should cherish that as a gift. 
• Faith. I have a God who patiently listens to me grumble, and prompts me to give thanks.

I should, and could ramble on and on about the many things I take for granted. Instead, I'll lift those up in a prayer of thanksgiving to the One who deserves my praise.

In the meantime, I will rejoice in this day. I will rejoice in the warmth of the sunshine, and I will thank God that each new day brings us one day closer to the promise of spring.

Psalm 86:
11 Teach me your way, Lord,
    that I may rely on your faithfulness;
give me an undivided heart,
    that I may fear your name.
12 I will praise you, Lord my God, with all my heart;
    I will glorify your name forever.

March Madness

March. The month for which college basketball fans eagerly await. A month chocked full with late night game watching, sleepy-eyed work mornings and bracket rivalries. Weeks of great basketball. Days of watching players overcome adversity to make buzzer-beating, game-winning shots.

Our family has a long history of bracket game play. We always play for a lofty prize. In fact, for years, the winning family member claimed a 12-pack of pop at the losers' expense! Actually, I think the biggest prize is the trash-talking, bragging rights. Yep. Happens every year.

When it comes to filling out our brackets, we each have our own philosophy. Randy follows his gut and is loyal to his favorite teams. Barry uses his immense basketball knowledge and statistical brain. Lorie uses a haphazard system, which may include team colors, favorite college location or mascot in making her choices. I tend to look at overall record and win streaks as factors in my bracket selection process.

But once the games start, we all tend to have one thing in common. Even though our brackets may not reflect it, we cheer for the underdog. The long shot. The Cinderella team.

Upsets are what make NCAA college tournament play exciting. It's great watching a low seed take out a higher seeded, highly regarded, hyped team. The intensity and determination of a team making their first appearance in the tourney is energizing. We root for those teams to overcome the statistical improbability and not only win, but win big!

Jesus was a champion for the underdog too. He rooted for the poor, the widowed and the sick. He stood up for children.

From Luke 9:
47 Jesus, knowing their thoughts, took a little child and had him stand beside him. 48 Then he said to them, “Whoever welcomes this little child in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. For it is the one who is least among you all who is the greatest.”

The March basketball season is fleeting, but outside my family room walls, life marches on. I need to be better at following Jesus' example. I need to do my part to make a difference in the lives of the world's underdogs.

Go Dawgs!

A Final Lesson from Jamaica

I've lost track of the number of times we've been to Jamaica. I'm spoiled. I know. We've been blessed.

Over the years, we've vacationed in a number of different areas. Ocho Rios. Runaway Bay. Duncans. Our favorite by far? Ocho Rios. We've also tried different accommodations. Large Hotel. Mid-sized hotel. Villa with staff. Villa without staff. Small inn. Our favorite? The small inn.

We've also had many traveling companions. Close friends. More close friends. Our kids. My parents along with our kids. The two of us. Our favorite? That's tough; each trip is full of sweet memories.


My dad passed away nearly eight years ago. He loved Jamaica. He loved being there with us. He frequently shared the same favorite story over and over, yet relished the joy in every telling. I sure miss him.

I must admit that each trip to Jamaica brings with it the thought of family.


Family.


Family in Jamaica includes my own biological family, but it also includes my adopted Jamaican family. I didn't get their permission to share their photos online, but I can't imagine that they'd object. Here are some photos pulled from my Jamaican family photo album:

Isn't it great, that when we are children of God, we are all members of the same family? I'm blessed to call everyone pictured here family.

From Ephesians 2 (Living Bible):

19 Now you are no longer strangers to God and foreigners to heaven, but you are members of God’s very own family, citizens of God’s country, and you belong in God’s household with every other Christian.

One of Jamaica's advertising campaigns says it best, "One Love."

Lessons from Jamaica...Part III

Yah, mon, it's another blog post about Jamaica. I'm not sure when I'll run out of great stories to share. I think that my husband would agree that our Jamaican experiences have shaped us into the people we are today.

So here goes, for the third post in a series of ???

Fifteen years ago, our kids were ten and six when we spent one of our family vacations in Jamaica. That year, we gave them one of a pair of two-way radios, and they had great fun walking the gardens, feeding the turtles, and talking to Bo Bo, the noisy parrot. They were safe, we could keep in contact, and most importantly, they were entertained. But every day, their favorite request was, "Can we go see Hopelynn?"  Hopelynn (pronounced with the "H" silent) was working at the hotel and we spent lots of time talking with her and learning about her and life in Jamaica. Lorie and Barry bonded with Hopelynn, and so did we. Our friendship has lasted over the years and she comes to see us whenever we are in Jamaica.

Back in January, I posted a wintery picture on Hopelynn's Facebook wall, begging her to send us some warm Jamaican sunshine. Her response, "come home guys to your second home."

"Come home guys to your second home."

Ah, what great words. Jamaica does, indeed, seem like the place we belong. Especially in winter. Especially after receiving near record amounts of snowfall. Especially in the midst of unending, overcast, deary days in Michigan. And even though we have lived in Michigan all our lives, sometimes we seem like strangers in a foreign land. We feel that we were made for somewhere other than this place.

As a Christian, I'm reminded that I am, indeed, a stranger here. This is my temporary home, and by faith, I live looking forward to my real and permanent home.

From Hebrews 11 (Living Bible):

13 These men of faith I have mentioned died without ever receiving all that God had promised them; but they saw it all awaiting them on ahead and were glad, for they agreed that this earth was not their real home but that they were just strangers visiting down here. 14 And quite obviously when they talked like that, they were looking forward to their real home in heaven.

15 If they had wanted to, they could have gone back to the good things of this world. 16 But they didn’t want to. They were living for heaven. And now God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has made a heavenly city for them.

Thanks, Hopelynn, for the invitation and the reminder. We love you!

Lessons from Jamaica - Part II

A week ago, my hubby and I were basking in the Jamaican sunshine. We were snorkeling. We were searching out bargains at the craft market. We were enjoying the amazing company of fellow vacationers.

Ahhh. If only I had a time machine to bring us back...but until then, sharing the experience will have to suffice.


One of our favorite past times in Jamaica is snorkeling. We have our own equipment that travels with us each trip. Early morning is our favorite time of the day to snorkel. The water is calm, the sea clear and the exercise builds up our appetites for the huge, Jamaican breakfast that follows.

Our walk down cliff-side steps leads to a landing, which in turn has steps descending into the sea. Once our masks and fins are in place, we plunge into shimmering water that engulfs us, transporting us to a whole new dimension. Tang, Four eyed Butterflies, Squirrelfish and Parrotfish swim in schools by the dozens. Vibrant Blueheads find us fascinating and become our pals for the duration. Juvenile sting rays fan along the bottom of the sea. Bug-eyed Squid scare the willies out of me and even an octopus makes an appearance.


Years ago, on one of our family vacations to Jamaica, we planned to teach our daughter, Lorie, to snorkel. She was probably ten years old at the time. After we geared up, we stood beside her and told her to put her face in the water and practice breathing with her mouth through the snorkel. I will never forget what happened next. Feet planted firmly on the sandy bottom, she bent over, put her face to the water, and immediately freaked out! She never expected to see hundreds of fish surrounding her. The world below the surface was nothing like the world she knew above.

As we stand on the pool deck, gazing over the turquoise sea, the water lends no clue to the teeming beauty and breathtaking wonder that exists below the surface. A Caribbean reef guide booklet gives an inkling of what we might encounter. Conversations with other snorkelers excite us for what we might discover. But the only way we can truly understand the undersea world is to experience it for ourselves.

I liken it to our journey into Heaven. Standing on earth, looking out over our everyday life, we see few clues as to what breathtaking wonder exists beyond our current existence. Our life guide, the Bible, gives an inkling into what we might encounter. Conversations with other Christians excite us for what we might discover. But the only way we will truly understand Heaven will be to experience it for ourselves.

Experiencing the wonder of the Caribbean Sea last week helped me to realize that our great God has an amazing future planned for us. One day, I'll experience it for myself. In the meantime, I'll rest on the truths he reveals to us through his Word, and live life relishing the fantastic joys he has placed for us in his creation.

Imagine this, from Revelation 21:

18-20 The city itself was pure, transparent gold like glass! The wall was made of jasper, and was built on twelve layers of foundation stones inlaid with gems: the first layer[c] with jasper; the second with sapphire; the third with chalcedony; the fourth with emerald; the fifth with sardonyx; the sixth layer with sardus; the seventh with chrysolite; the eighth with beryl; the ninth with topaz; the tenth with chrysoprase; the eleventh with jacinth; the twelfth with amethyst.

21 The twelve gates were made of pearls—each gate from a single pearl! And the main street was pure, transparent gold, like glass.

22 No temple could be seen in the city, for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are worshiped in it everywhere. 23 And the city has no need of sun or moon to light it, for the glory of God and of the Lamb illuminate it. 24 Its light will light the nations of the earth, and the rulers of the world will come and bring their glory to it. 25 Its gates never close; they stay open all day long—and there is no night! 26 And the glory and honor of all the nations shall be brought into it. 27 Nothing evil will be permitted in it—no one immoral or dishonest—but only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s Book of Life.

Lessons from Jamaica - Part 1

We're back home following a wonderfully amazing week of vacation in Jamaica. Insert heavy sigh here. We've been fortunate in our ability to visit Jamaica often during our thirty-plus years of marriage.

My husband and I consider Jamaica our number one vacation spot for a variety of reasons. First off, in Jamaica it NEVER snows. Living in west Michigan, where we've had over twelve feet of snow this season, this reason is a no brainer. The warmth, sunshine and gorgeous landscape make Jamaica a virtual paradise. Another attractive Jamaican feature is the relaxed culture, which might just possibly border comatose. "Back in a minute," may mean fifteen minutes, an hour or maybe two. Even if you've never visited Jamaica, you recognize the phrase, "No problem, mon!"

But the very best treat on this tropical island? The Jamaicans. These folks, while poor by the world's wealth standards, have riches beyond compare. A big heart, wide smile and unending faith characterize the typical Jamaican.

The Jamaicans we met who work, typically work six days a week. Rising at 5:00 a.m. to catch a "route taxi" for their thirty to sixty minute commute into work is common. Working a ten to twelve hour workday is also the norm.

Americans would do well to learn from Jamaicans. On Sundays, most businesses are closed. A walk down the street confirms the destination of choice for Jamaicans. Church. Yep. Church. Women are dressed in hats, heels and dresses. Men in dress shirts and ties tow children behind.

And on Sundays, often their only day off, they arrive at church, typically around 10:00 a.m. for a service that may last three or four hours. After a break at home, they return to church in the evening, for another service lasting a few hours. Mid week, other evening worship is also held.

Amazing. In a world of hard work, in a place where there is very little time for self, Jamaicans work their free time schedule around God. God comes first, self second. Not the other way around.

In my busy, often self-satisfying existence, I tend to work God into my schedule. I tend to give him my leftover hours or squeeze him into my hour of worship on Sunday, never mind heading back for a second dose in the evening. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that attending church makes a person a Christian. Nothing could be further from the truth. The importance is on what place we put God.

Is he first in my life?

The verses from Proverbs 3 (The Living Bible translation) say it well, and I need this daily reminder to live it out:

4-5 If you want favor with both God and man, and a reputation for good judgment and common sense, then trust the Lord completely; don’t ever trust yourself. 6 In everything you do, put God first, and he will direct you and crown your efforts with success.

Put God first? Yeh, mon!

Blue is beautiful...

Today's front page headline sums it up pretty well. 96.5 inches of snowfall so far this winter. 96 1/2 inches! Do the math. That's just over eight feet of snow!  Eight FEET!

Frigid temps. Record lows. Continual snow. Activity cancellations. School closings.

I handle those things pretty well. In fact; shh, I actually enjoy this weather! I relish the old-fashioned feeling which accompanies the brutality of this winter's weather. Getting stuck in the thick, dense snow at an intersection. Slipping. Sliding. The heart racing exercise of shoveling snow.

What I struggle with is this: the lack of sunshine. I long for the stunning beauty of the cobalt blue sky. I yearn for the spreading warmth from the intense rays of a winter's sun. I desire the dazzling beauty of glistening white ground cover.

I'm not alone in my need. In fact, physicians even have a name for this need. It's called SAD. Yep, SAD. That stands for seasonal affective disorder. The lack of sunshine causes sadness, moodiness and depression. The long and short of it is that we humans need sunshine.

Unfortunately, in Michigan, we can go for weeks without a glimpse of the sun. And this winter has been no exception.

That is, until yesterday.

Yesterday the sun emerged victorious. It warmed our souls from sunup 'til sundown. We were gifted with an entire day to see shadows, squint and share happy spirits.

People were downright giddy. A trip to Meijer after work confirmed my suspicions. People were downright joyful. It was obvious. There were the two guys struggling to push their cart through the snow-covered parking lot who laughed, joked and waved at me. There was the encounter with the husband who thought he needed to help me pick out my bunch of bananas.  Add to that the smiles and chatter of children with their moms. My trip ended with the cheerful cashier who chatted while scanning my groceries.

The sun had an incredible impact on humanity.

Amazing how our need for the sun mirrors our need for the Son. The Son of God. Jesus. We humans need Jesus.

So...is it apparent to folks? Can they see that we're bathed in the light of the Son? Is it obvious? Are we downright giddy and joy-filled? Do they see the difference it makes for the Son to be victorious in our lives?

My prayer is this: "Jesus, please help me shine your light. Today. Tomorrow. Every day. Thank you, Jesus! Amen."

I pray this same prayer for you as well.

From Matthew 5:

14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

The Men in the Zebra Suits

I'm a basketball fan. I guess this addiction started years ago - and we're talkin' many years ago - in high school. Back then, my high school didn't have a football team, so basketball was THE sport. Several years later, early in our married life, my husband and I were avid followers of the Detroit Pistons "Bad Boys." The world hated Isaiah Thomas, Joe Dumars, Bill Laimbeer and Dennis Rodman, but basketball fans in Michigan loved them! Fast forward to just a few short years ago when our son, Barry, played high school basketball, and we were faithful West Ottawa supporters for four years.

Currently my fix comes in the form of Hope College men's basketball.

Working at the college has its advantages. We are able to sit in the faculty/staff bleacher section, and our favorite spot is the very front row. We are mere feet off the court and close to the excitement of the game. We hear, see and sometimes even become part of the action when a stray ball or player flies into our laps.

Although our focus is on the players and the contest at hand, during most games our attention gets diverted. In fact,three people capture an uncanny amount of scrutiny. These folks don't get a break. In fact, they are the objects of spewed nasty comments and constant criticism. These are the men in the zebra suits. The officials.

A missed call. A bad call. A fair call. No call at all. All these actions can result in raucous boos, shouted insults and player angst. Now let's be real. Officials go through training. They know the rules of the game. Officials are doing the best job they can during a fast paced sport. It's usually the spectators that get their panties in a bunch.

Fair or not, officials take a beating.

In much the same way, Christians today fall under the same intense scrutiny. Sure, we've been trained through our reading of Scripture. We know the rules by following Jesus' example. And in this game called Life, people are watching. Our kids. Our coworkers. Our neighbors. The media.

We are doing the best job we can, but we don't always get it right. Sometimes we slip up. We make a bad call. Maybe it's gossip. Or cutting a driver off in traffic. We miss a call. Not volunteering to teach a Sunday School class. Keeping a tithe for ourselves. It's in these times we need to understand we're human. God uses common, ordinary people, sinners even (!), to accomplish his purposes.

But then we find, even when we make the right call, we get hammered. We remain true to our beliefs and often go against the ways of our world. We defend marriage. We honor life. We honor conservative values. It's in these time we need to persevere. We need to withstand spewed insults and vicious criticism. We need to stand firm in our faith.

Find encouragement in 2 Timothy 4:

2 Preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction. 3 For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. 4 They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths. 5 But you, keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, discharge all the duties of your ministry.

And our master, Jesus, encourages us with his words in Matthew 5:

11 “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. 12 Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

So go out there. Blow your whistle and make the call. Jesus is in the stands, cheering you on.

Head vs Heart

I'm at odds over reconciling a couple of things.

I'm a relationship person. For me, getting to know someone doesn't necessarily mean being able to list off a bunch of things about that person. While knowing things about a person is usually the first step in a relationship, actually knowing a person is key.

Does that make sense? I'll try to explain.

Let's use my husband, Randy, as an example. Randy is a business owner. He is a church member, high school Sunday School teacher and special needs tutor. He is a "says it like it is" father. He smokes cigars, wears a baseball hat 24/7 and wears jeans to church.

"Hmm, interesting character," you might say.

Yep, those are things about my hubby. But now, let me try to help you get to know Randy.

Randy's customers are loyal. They've found him to be a fair, diligent and painstakingly neat perfectionist who gets to know them and their families personally. Our Sunday School highschoolers love him because he is genuine, goofy and cares deeply about each and every one of them. He wears a gruff exterior like armor, but inside has a teddy bear heart that is fiercely protective of his kids, the elderly, and of me.

This is just the tip of the iceberg, but I hope it helps you see the difference between knowing about a person and getting to know a person.

Hence, my struggle with those Christians who know about Jesus and preach this above knowing Jesus. To be fair, I truly believe Jesus wants us to know about him. I also believe that Jesus wants us to continue learning more about him. But ultimately, Jesus wants us to have an intimate relationship with him, which involves really knowing him, and not just knowing about him.

I call this the Religion vs Relationship teeter totter. Religious folks can get hung up on knowing about, but not really knowing. You see, Biblical head knowledge and heart relationship should go hand in hand. More and more, I've noticed that when the teeter totter is heavy with head knowledge, it's very judgmental. So whether you agree with me or not, here's my take on it:

Religion wants to be in control.
Relationship trusts God’s control.

Religion worries about what others think.
Relationship only cares what God thinks.

Religion shackles us with a list of rules and regulations.
Relationship sets us free.

Religion condemns.
Relationship forgives.

Religion carries the arrogance of knowledge.
Relationship carries the humility of service.

Religion continually strives for more knowledge, leaving us unfulfilled.
Relationship fills our hearts with acceptance and overflowing joy.

Religion guilts us into works.
Relationship serves with joy.

Jesus had harsh words about those who spouted their Biblical head knowledge and taught it, but didn't live it out in their relationships. He has lots to say to them in Matthew 23. But before he chastises them, he tells us how to live our lives in verses 9-12, here from The Message:

 “You all have a single Teacher, and you are all classmates. Don’t set people up as experts over your life, letting them tell you what to do. Save that authority for God; let him tell you what to do. No one else should carry the title of ‘Father’; you have only one Father, and he’s in heaven. And don’t let people maneuver you into taking charge of them. There is only one Life-Leader for you and them—Christ.

11-12 “Do you want to stand out? Then step down. Be a servant. If you puff yourself up, you’ll get the wind knocked out of you. But if you’re content to simply be yourself, your life will count for plenty."