Nuns and Nones

When my brother and I were children, Mama took us pretty much everywhere she went.  I can remember only one time when she absolutely refused to take us – well, me – with her.  She went to a baby shower and we stayed home with Daddy.  Even then, she brought us mints and petit fours decorated with baby booties.  It turned out well.  We went to the park with Daddy and then got goodies when Mama came home. 

One day, Mama and my grandmother had us out shopping.  We had looked at clothes and shoes and tried on stuff and we were getting a little cranky.  When we stepped out of the store and onto the sidewalk, I saw the most amazing thing.  So did my brother.  Up until that point, I had not thought they really existed, but there they were on the very same sidewalk and coming toward us.  I started yelling, “Look at the witches!  Look at the witches!”  Mama immediately shushed me, but the damage was done. 

Walking toward us, smiling and laughing, were two nuns.  Yep.  I had mistaken those two nuns in their habits for witches, of all things.  They did not seem at all offended, but poor Mama was just mortified.  She apologized on my behalf, and they very graciously said it was not necessary, and it had provided them a good laugh.  Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out what they were.  Mama said they were “nuns,” but I heard “nones.”  I wasn’t up on my homophones back then.  But, even so, I knew that none was nothing – and, whatever they were, they surely weren’t nothing.

Now, fast forward.  I am walking in the mall and I have a preschool age Matthew with me.  All of a sudden, I hear this big voice coming from my small child.  It is saying, “Mama, I see a witch!”  It was, of course, a nun.  Really.  I cannot make up a life funnier than the one I live. 

Sometimes, we think we see “witches.”  Sometimes, we experience “witches.”  They look like something scary, something awful, something up to no good.  (Sometimes, they actually ARE scary, awful, up to no good.)  Then God steps in and says, “I’ve got this.  Those are ‘nones.’  Don’t be afraid.”   

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.  John 14:27

"The place where Jesus didn't stay."

Years ago, the first time I saw a set of Resurrection Eggs, I knew I had to have them.  They were not terribly expensive – around $10 – and I knew I would be using them for years to come.  I still have them.  I still use them.  And, over the years, we have added to them.  My favorite egg is the empty one.

One year at Easter, when Matthew was around four years old, we got out the Resurrection Eggs and started opening them one by one.  We talked about the object inside the egg and what it meant.  When we got to the empty egg, Matthew got a certain look on his face and I knew what was happening.  He was doing his best to find a way to explain that empty egg.  So, I gently reminded him that it had something to do with a tomb.  And then he said, “Oh, that’s the word – tomb.  It’s the place where Jesus didn’t stay!” 

The empty tomb – proof of our risen Savior, our single hope of salvation.  Jesus, who lived and walked dirt roads and dusty streets, left that tomb and is alive today.  He intervenes for us today just as He did for those who literally walked with Him.  A rock tomb with a stone covering could not hold Him.  Evil could not triumph.  And nothing can change the truth of his resurrection. 

The place where Jesus didn’t stay.  That about sums it up. 

“And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.” - Luke 24:2-3

Someone Left the Gate Open

When our son was two years old, he started asking for a puppy.  We hoped it was just one of those things that would fade away when something else caught his interest.  No such luck.   He was relentless.  On July 10, 1990, Matthew’s puppy was born.  Her mama was a blonde cocker spaniel with a pedigree.  Her daddy was a fence-climbing black dachshund referred to by the mama’s owner as “That Scoundrel.”  Matthew named his puppy “April” after April O’Neil of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle fame.  And April was with us for the next seventeen years. 

April was a great dog – patient with Matthew, long-suffering, and a real character in her own right.  Her greatest delight was to find the gate open.  As careful as we tried to be, she always knew when we had messed up and left the gate open or not latched.    We called her a Houdini dog.  She could escape with the slightest opportunity.  And she would run.  And we would chase her.  It was the highlight of her day.  April had a way of enjoying things.  She always lived her life like someone left the gate open.

Maybe you haven’t had the April experience.  Maybe you are still hemmed up, fenced in, and not feeling much joy.  I know how that is.  I have had the unpleasant occasion to work in an office run for some time by the equivalent of mean girls from junior high.   You know about them, but hopefully you haven’t experienced them - the toxic leader who uses the minions to fuel her ego and make her think she is coming up with all the ideas – the coward who lets others do her bullying – the ones who tell just enough of the truth so they can claim it is not a lie. 

I know all about it.  I’ve been stuck there.  But no longer!  What they meant for evil, God meant for good.  While they were being mean, manipulative, cowardly, and underhanded, God was using their weakness and self-centeredness to help me.  Now, granted, it didn’t feel like help at the time, but it didn’t take long before I could see it. What began as a bad experience turned out to be one of the best.   God made sure that I get to enjoy both my life and my work -  like Someone left the gate open!  Because He did!

 “‘I know your works. Behold, I have set before you an open door, which no one is able to shut. I know that you have but little power, and yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name. “  Revelation 3:8

Here At Last!

Well, it is finally here.  The end of Daylight Saving Time!  Woohoo!  I have been eagerly (angrily?) waiting for this day since March 9^th when this whole mess started again for the year.  Why we have to mess with the clocks is beyond me.  I am getting my hour back that was borrowed in March, and that is what is important to me.  When God put the world in motion, He very conveniently arranged for the days to get gradually longer at times and gradually shorter at others.  It is a good plan.  It works.  Let’s just let it be.  My house, however, is governed by another type of time.  It comes with the dogs.

We have three dogs.  Zorro is half cocker spaniel and half dachshund.  Lily is a puggle – her mom is a beagle and her dad is a pug.  Charley is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.  Charley is the most laid back of the bunch, even though he sounds like royalty.  (When our son is at home, the first thing he says to Charley each morning is, “Greetings, Charles.”  I love that.)

Because of those three dogs, we operate on what we know as “Dog Stomach Time,”   which can also be called DST.  They don’t know the first thing about clocks.  Not one of them can tell time – not even with a digital clock.  But they do know what time it is.  And it is all based on Dog Stomach Time.  Here is how it works.  Zorro, Lily, and Charley get fed when they get up and they get fed when we get home from work.  We have created Dog Stomach Time.  We know it.  They get up at the same time every day and want to be fed, because according to Dog Stomach Time, that is what you do.  They start barking the minute we get home from work.  Dog Stomach Time has kicked in and it is time to eat.  Three hours later, Dog Stomach Time alerts them that it is time for a snack.  Their day is complete. 

Changing the time back and forth just messes things up for us.  But not for the dogs.  Their time is so ingrained that it really doesn’t matter if it is light or dark, rain or shine, hot or cold.  Dog Stomach Time prevails.  Don’t even try to mess with it.

I think this world would be a better place if we each were so embedded in our relationship with God that we always spent time with Him, always talked to Him, always read the Bible – light or dark, rain or shine, hot or cold.  We would all be better of if we operated on God and Me Time.  When we get up, in the evening, and then three hours later – sounds like a plan for God and Me Time.  Dogs are smarter than you think.

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12

The Trembling Giant

We called the dinner for the ladies at church New Faces/Familiar Faces – a much, much better choice than New Faces/Old Faces.  The whole idea was to welcome the ladies who had recently joined our church and help them feel more a part of the women’s activities –  a time of fellowship and fun and a devotional - and eating, of course.  Where two or three are gathered, we eat.  If you simply combine being southern and being Baptist, the result is a meal.

After we ate, Meredith McLendon gave a short devotional.  She talked about the stand of aspen trees in Utah that is considered the largest living single organism.  They are all connected by the same root system. Pretty amazing.  The first time I heard about those trees, I thought I had heard wrong.  I did some research.  Turns out, I had heard right.  Those 47,000 trees really are connected by the same root system. The stand of aspens in Fishlake National Forest is called Pando, which comes from Latin for “spread out.”  The  other name for that stand of trees is “The Trembling Giant.”  (These are quaking aspens, so the trembling part makes sense.)

There were some things that Meredith did not have time to mention since she had a short time to speak.  Those aspen trees came from a single tree thousands of years ago.  Scientists believe that the  first tree was probably destroyed by fire.  But the roots were still there and they spread out as far as 100 feet.  They sent out shoots which grew into new trees.  And as time went on, the theory is that lightning strikes caused other fires.  Trees were destroyed – but not the roots.  Those roots got busy and started a bunch of new trees.  And on and on for 80,000 years or so.   Every tree is genetically identical.  Every one.  Because underneath, where you can’t even see, they have a common root system.  It feeds them and anchors them and makes them thrive.

But there is a problem.  The stand of aspens is in danger.  The trees are getting old and dying off.  There are not enough new trees to replace them.  Guess why.  The trees are not being destroyed.  Modern firefighting and fire prevention have saved those trees.  Except they are dying.  They only reproduce from the roots and the new shoots cannot grow in shade.  The grown trees are making it impossible for the young trees to survive.  Who knew that fire could be a tree’s best friend?  

So, what does an aspen stand have to do with you and me?  How many times have you been through a “fire” and thought you had encountered a full-fledged disaster?   And later, you could see that the “fire” brought about a lot of growth.   Things have changed; they will never be the same.  But, wait.  Something is springing up from the ruins.  The disaster is no less awful, but in the space it left, something good can emerge.  We are rooted in God’s love.  We all have the same Father; we are kinfolk.  And because of that connection, we always have somewhere to turn when things go wrong.  Someone to turn to for comfort.  Someone to anchor us, feed us, and help us thrive.   

It takes years to grow an aspen tree, and while it gets taller, it roots spread out.  The roots are as wide as the tree is tall.  God’s love for us is not just deep and wide.  It is infinite.  He loves you unconditionally and forever.  So when lightning strikes and you begin to feel defeated, be an aspen.  Reach out with faith rooted in God’s unending love for you and see what grows in the Sonshine.

Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.  1 Corinthians 12:27