Bonanza & the Bible

Funerals are rough.  They hold all kinds of emotions.  When my brother-in-law passed away last month, we felt the whole gamut.  As people exited after the funeral, a neighbor stopped to introduce himself.  “My name is . . .  I watched westerns with your brother, and we read the Bible.”  He smiled to continue, “When Bonanza came on, well, it was TV time.  Then later we’d go back and read.”  With not too many words, this neighbor had garnered my complete attention, and I posed to shake his hand in admiration.  He was a guy who spoke the name of the Lord in the ordinary day.  He included the Bible just casually in conversation with whomever he met.  It’s part of what John 15 says in the context of the vine and the branches.  “If you remain in me and my words remain in you . . .”  This neighbor kept God’s word remaining in him as he opened the Bible’s pages and invited others to join in.  It’s encouragement for all of us to not wait for Sundays to roll around as our only Jesus Day.  Jesus says too in verse 16, “. . . go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. . .”  And as our world desperately needs the name of Jesus the entire 7 days of the week, may the Lord give us joy for walking through the different doors of conversation He opens.  The more we talked that afternoon at the funeral home, the more I loved this neighbor who spent time with my brother-in-law.  They barbecued, they read the Bible, they prayed, and I smile to imagine all the Bonanza and Gunsmoke episodes they watched.

Agony of carcinoma

The man finished brushing his teeth and swung his wheelchair away from the sink.  “No more prayer!” he exclaimed.  “No more prayer!”  I had simply knocked on his door with an offer to help.  Actually he did welcome me in, though his words turned sharp.  “I’ve been prayed for in Jerusalem.  I’ve been prayed for in Mexico.  I’ve been prayed for here in San Antonio.  God cannot change the carcinoma on my lung.  He cannot change any of this.  It’s written on my hospital papers.”  I silently nodded to acknowledge his words, and he leaned toward me, seeming disturbed that I didn’t quickly agree.  “I don’t think you understand,” he continued.  “God cannot change my diagnosis.  It’s on my papers,” and he pointed to the medical records area down the hall.  I followed his hand gestures and facial expressions closely, wanting to respect all of what he was telling, though it seemed my silence frustrated him.  Again he stated, “I don’t think you understand me!”  This time I replied, “We may just see things differently.”  I smiled in hope of easing any anxiety about our differences, but in actuality, the opposite seemed to happen.  With growing agitation, he posed the question, “Do you know the worst thing that can happen to a man?”  I waited for his answer.  “It’s pain,” he declared.  “My pain is awful.  It’s absolutely awful.”  And suddenly I wondered if all this time he was meaning something he really didn’t say.  He was exhausted and worn from fighting through pain, and maybe he didn’t want his diagnosis changed.  Perhaps he didn’t want to live anymore.  The possibility of someone praying to reverse that proclamation of death might cause him great heartache.  And in that moment, I did the very thing he didn’t want.  Not in spite, not as a slap in the face, but wholly in support of his dire situation, I quietly prayed for the Lord to touch this man who has had pain screaming at him so loud for so many years.  Colossians 3:12-13 says, “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.  Bear with each other . . .”  This was my opportunity to bear with this man.  I came to his hospital room not to argue.  I watched for a pause in his words that I could politely exit, and he could then rest.  “I have been blessed to meet you today, Sir.  Thank you for your time to talk.”  I stood to smile, and he waved without any apparent angst.  May the Lord comfort him.

The cupcake lady

Cynicism is contagious.  It’s infectious.  The doubt and distrust become so deeply engrained that we don’t recognize the harm they cause.  But just when you’re convinced the whole world is horrible and that altruism is dead, here comes the cupcake lady.  She quietly sets up shop and exudes this wonderfully inspiring generosity.  My friend met her in the grocery store.  The cupcake lady approached the check-out lane where my friend is a cashier.  She loaded her groceries from the cart, and as my friend scanned each item, the cupcake lady planted a seed.  My friend saw the baking cups and all the cupcake ingredients and inquired as they rode the conveyor belt.  Little did she know she would ever meet the cupcake lady again.  Then came a particularly interesting bus ride.  It happened on another day that my friend and the cupcake lady rode the very same bus at the very same time.  Because cashiers at grocery stores see all kinds of people, some days are quite trying.  Too many instances of people mistreating their children, too many scenarios of people abusing welfare systems, and the list goes on and on.  So to meet the cupcake lady on the bus and realize she made some special cupcakes for a very sweet cashier was quite timely.  Her generosity hit the spot.  Why would the cupcake lady bake cupcakes for a cashier she hardly knew and make an extra trip to the store to deliver them, though she wasn’t sure the cashier would even be working then?  Here the Lord connects the 2 people on the bus, making certain the cupcake lady’s efforts don't go in vain.  How sweet is that!  I loved just hearing the story.  I'm inspired, and I’ve never personally met the cupcake lady.  And so I ask on your behalf for the Lord to send a cupcake lady to your neighborhood.  May the Lord encourage you and protect you from that cynicism to which we're all susceptible.

At the library conference

Just show up.  That’s the first step.  If we talk ourselves out of that, we lose any chance of seeing what God had in mind.  Two years ago, I showed up for a theater audition.  Community theater decided to let me play an annoying nurse, and that led to my part-time role now with a touring group that serves schools and libraries.  This past Thursday, I took a turn manning our booth at a library conference, and lo and behold, look what happens.  A librarian visits our booth and asks, “So how did you get into theater?”  Answer: God.  That night I attended a sketching class at our local library.  Still wearing my theater shirt and cap, the girl next to me asked, “So how did you get into theater?”  Answer: God.  And each time, my heart leaped.  With each occasion, I was humbled to realize I would’ve never known those sweet moments if I hadn’t have shown up for that first audition years ago.  “Lord, lead me.  Set my feet in motion.”  I relied on Psalms 37, 94, 121, and all those verses that say He won’t let our feet slip, all leading up to gleefully and giddily getting to answer somebody’s simple question, “So how did you get into theater?”  He makes the day much more than hosting a theater booth.  He shines His light upon a sketching class for it to become an opportunity to encourage.  But the first step is to show up.

Not just playing opossum

Look at these opossums!  What a surprise when my neighbor found them behind her back gate!  One mom, at least 5 babies, all taking up residence in an empty flower pot underneath the yard tools.  Makes me think of a certain email the other day.  This email arrived a certain inbox of a certain sweet girl.  Her inbox looked to be nothing unusual, but having been quite stressed just the previous afternoon by the details of planning her wedding, and in particular the task of designing her invitations, this sweet girl was about to discover something huge within that little email.  That previous day’s frustration had led to prayer.  That previous day’s prayer led to those moments when we wait.  How would the Lord answer?  And yet here came this simple email that advertised some new fonts, with one specific font being a wonderful fit for solving her design woes.  The delivery was actually quite huge.  Such a steep precipice of blessing lends us toward humility all over again.  The impeccable timing is what often sets apart the works of God, and we just never know exactly how, where, and when we’ll see Him during the ordinary day.  Maybe in a family of squiggly baby opossums that prompts us to ponder.  Maybe when dredging the deep, dark, endless queue of emails that we thought we would dread.  Acts 1:7 says, “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority.”  And I can see that I wouldn’t want to know everything ahead of time.  That inner gasp of amazement I wouldn’t want to lose.    

Revisiting the old neighborhood

Remember your childhood house?  Mine was near Lackland Air Force Base.  Our little pink asbestos-shingled abode served as shelter for 4, and we played baseball in the front and ate hamburgers at our picnic table in the back.  I've driven by the old place several times since, and actually the notion of revisiting comes to mind because a friend recently revisited his high school neighborhood.  Beginning to miss some of his buddies, he headed toward his old stomping ground after work one night.  Along the way, he talked with the Lord and valued the time.  Then when he arrived, the message hit hard.  Misery set in.  He turned off the ignition, just sat in the car, and felt anger and sorrow refloat to the top.  Seeing the old school reminded him of former drug abuse.  Seeing his apartment brought back the days when his mom supplied alcohol and partied with his friends.  His visit became an hour flooded with heartache from life’s worst times.  Yet there was some good in all this.  As pain can grow humility, all the devastating memories and all the shame and regret served to deepen my friend's gratitude toward the Lord.  If still living in his old ways, he says he might be sitting in jail or maybe even dead, and now how earnestly he appreciates the Lord delivering him.  He was newly inspired to live humbly and take the Lord seriously and not waste his second chances.  No more self-righteousness.  And so my friend poses some questions for all of us, “Is there somewhere we need to revisit today?  Somewhere I need to go?  How about you?"

A hospital mop & a string of questions

Hospitals are horrible.  That’s what some people say.  The sterile hallways.  All the blinking lights and beeps from the machines.  It can be scary.  But today I share a hospital story that has the Lord’s light shined into it.  One Friday last month, I visited a friend whose surgery would be the next week.  Part of her preparation for surgery involved discontinuing her blood-thinner, and doing so required an early hospital check-in.  By outward appearance, you’d never know the medical turmoil this friend has endured.  She’s one whose gracious smile simply beams into every corner of the room.  Her bed was on the far side this time.  Having greeted her roommate first, I walked across toward the window to hug my friend.  We talked for a while.  We sat.  We talked more and just kept company.  Then sitting bedside for us to pray, I could hear new activity in the room.  Continuing to pray, I heard the click of a mop, like when the mop head hits the handle.  My eyes opened to a new voice that promptly said, “You know just the right words.”  I turned to acknowledge the speaker, who I then saw was a female member of the hospital’s housekeeping department.  Already I loved the fact that she felt comfortable enough to jump right into conversation.  And indeed she was just getting started, for a whole string of energetic questions ensued.  “How do you know God is real?”  “What about in the beginning?  How does the idea of Jesus go back to the very beginning of the world?”  And the list went on.  Her inquiries hit deep, they made me think, and I loved it.  I stood in awe of the Lord’s orchestration.  He had set a surgery schedule, a visitation schedule, and a cleaning schedule to all intersect that day around lunchtime.  The intricate detail of when we would each depart our separate homes and each enter the parking lot, the elevators, and even that particular room on the 7^th floor was all orchestrated by God.  The idea is evidenced in 1 John 1:7, which says, “But if we walk in the light, as he [God] is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.”  As we seek the Lord and walk about this earth, He’s going to connect us in some amazing ways.  The light He shines will bring paths to intersect and send forth a fountainous fellowship of joy.  And contrary to what some say about hospitals, these moments on this Friday were quite wonderful.  Thank you, Lord.

A plea of 30 years

Is there any limit to how long a story of God might inspire?  Is there ever a life span on the works of the Lord?  This past Saturday I witnessed a story reaching ahead almost 3 decades.  It started around 1985 with one lady asking God to take her to heaven.  Life was miserable at the time, and she pleaded.  She remembers God responding, “I cannot use you for the people of this earth when you’re dead.”  And that reply rejuvenated her.  Now fast-forward almost 30 yrs.  In 2014 there’s a 21-year-old who is very sick with Crohn’s disease.  He’s frail.  He’s hardly more than skin and bones, and he tells his aunt he wants the Lord to take him to heaven.  The lady from the ’80s tells her story to the young man’s aunt, and the aunt conveys the story to her nephew.  The young man listens closely, and he too is rejuvenated.  The Lord knew both the lady and the young man could not bear the thought of leaving this earth too soon, and how perfectly He fashioned His words to inspire.  Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  On Saturday we had a whole roomful of inspired souls.  And again we remember how the light the Lord shines into any one experience is for our sake and yet others as well.

Medicaid & God

Medicaid.  The word implies people.  The word implies money.  Give, receive, need, want—somehow there’s money involved.  But is it possible the Lord might enable someone’s enrollment with Medicaid, and the reason would have little to do with money?  Here’s a story from my friend.  She has 5 children, her husband is self-employed, and they recently realized they’re pregnant again.  She dialed up Medicaid to enroll for her pregnancy, but things didn’t fly too smoothly.  One person said this, another person said that, and as frustration built, she wondered how her scenario would ever solve.  She asked the Lord to provide, and soon came a call from Austin, which is big headquarters in Texas for lots of government offices.  But she hadn’t been talking to Austin before, so why now?  Who contacted Austin on her behalf?  It seems that God dialed up Austin.  This new lady on the phone broke through all kinds of barriers, and the rigmarole that seemed impossible to overcome previously was now moot.  Yet of all the millions of people enrolled in Texas Medicaid, why did my friend’s case find favor?  When she has routinely been asked in her pregnancies about a blood test for Down Syndrome, she has declined.  With her Medicaid physicians, she has refused that test that often becomes a determining factor for parents to abort their baby.  My friend loves her baby, and she’s giving birth to her baby and keeping her baby, so she sees no point in conducting that Down Syndrome test.  Perhaps that testimony right there is why the Lord provided that unlikely phone call from Austin.  The Lord loves life.  Deuteronomy 30:19 tells us to choose life.  God is forever bringing life to that which appears dead, and He rejuvenates us again and again from circumstances we think will swallow us whole.  I say it’s entirely possible that the Lord could use my friend’s perspective on life to encourage people she'll meet through Medicaid.  And what thrill to imagine the conversations the Lord might draw together to influence a mom or a dad to keep their baby!  So I pray for that exact thing.  Thank you, Lord, for providing that phone call from Austin for my sweet friend.  May Your light shine through her to attract conversation with patients and medical staff and any and all she will meet.  May they experience Your love and celebrate the births of their babies.  May they know You as their Savior.  Amen.  Indeed we serve a powerful and gracious God who can use us anywhere on this earth for His purposes.

Moved beyond dialysis

Lately my body has felt on the edge of collapse.  My bones have ached all over.  One Saturday I came close to falling asleep at the steering wheel, and it was scary to imagine what could’ve happened at highway speed.  I determined then to quit driving, I sought a new doctor, who in turn ordered some blood tests, and my eyes have viewed life a little differently ever since.  As I’ve sat at home and pondered much, the sweet face of my friend who deals with dialysis has come to mind.  Her uncomplaining smile speaks volumes for having found contentment in the Lord.  Longstanding frailty has not imprisoned her; rather it has served to blossom in her an amazing testimony.  A failed kidney transplant, any kind of steady job interrupted, many physical freedoms long gone, and still she radiates a gracious spirit.  Her fatigue continues, as do her hospital stays, yet her presence exudes testimony to the Lord’s strength within.  Three days a week she pulls open the door to the dialysis clinic, and when she arrives home afterward, it's like having worked a full-time job.  This week the notion hit me to prepare her a care package, and I trust that the Lord gave the idea.  A computer search of gift suggestions for dialysis patients turned up a sizable list, and I found immense joy in hoping to brighten her day.  A fun striped blanket, some cute colorful socks, new crossword puzzles, and some Skittles candy.  A small gesture in comparison, yet pure delight to anticipate giving.  Had the Lord not allowed my sickness and these days of immobility at home, I wouldn’t have the new insight for offering prayer on my friend's behalf.  May the Lord bless her, and you, dear reader, and those opportunities when He uses us to inspire each other.  My car may sit idle, but my heart has been moved.