Vocabulary lessons

We have three five-year-old grandsons, all of whom started the grand adventure of kindergarten this week.  Even the fun is learning.

One of them came home with a list of "sight words," such as and, to, the, a, me, look, you, see.  He pulled the narrow sheet of paper from his backpack and read them out loud.

"That sentence doesn't make any sense," he declared.

Well, his mom explained, it is not really a sentence yet, but just words.  

As for this little child, he needs to learn these words -- these little building blocks -- and one by one they build understanding for what is to come.  And when they connect with other words, they begin to make sense, layering on each other to reveal what is deep and invisible and beyond our comprehension at the moment.

And next week, there will be another spelling list.  And then, another. 

This week he grasps these simple monosyllabic words, but he does not yet know how they will connect in a billion sentences yet to come.  Comprehension is not just in recognizing words by sight, but learning them by heart.  They mean something.

As with his little weekly spelling list, we need to learn the Word.  One verse by another builds understanding for what is to come, not just in Biblical knowledge but in life.  Not just about information but transformation.  The passages we read and write on our hearts today connect with other verses.  They enlarge our hearts and don't just begin to make sense, but realign our hearts, our thoughts, and our vision for what God is doing, for what God is redeeming, for what God has placed right in front of us today.  God spells out His faithfulness, not just in a collection of words, but by what changes us, even in ways we do not yet grasp.

What we experience today is in some way very different because we have spent time in God's Word. Circumstances may not change, but our hearts do.  We see and respond differently.  God reveals Himself to us.  Scripture passages, verses, and stories layer on each other to unfold what is deep and invisible and beyond our comprehension at the moment.

When I read the Bible, I will not understand everything, but I will understand something. And then a little more, and then a little more.   Not just of Scripture, but of knowing Him more.

 

Your Word is a lamp to my feet

and a light to my path.

                    Psalm 119. 109

Quiet Undisturbed Hours of Midnight

It was a dark and stormy night of the soul when a young doctor precariously stood on the precipice of despair.  Nothing but nothing had turned out as he had envisioned.  His relationship with his engaged sweetheart had deteriorated.  With great excitement, he had opened a medical practice, and no one walked through the door.  He was penniless and discouraged.

A friend mentioned that he might be interested in a random article in a recent medical journal.   That evening, he began to read it.  Just twelve measly pages, but enough to put him into a deep sleep. The verbose article just did not pique his interest.  But something unexpected happened.

As mentioned in the book Breakthrough by Thea Cooper and Arthur Ainsberg:

"But at two o’clock in the morning he found himself awake, still clothed, still sitting in the chair by the bed, the journal still open in his lap.  What had awakened him?  A noise outside?  A dream?  No.  He was awakened by the force of an idea.

"He took the small black notebook from the bedside table and scribbled twenty-five words in a barely legible, sometimes misspelled, loopy, half-awake hand.  These twenty-five words scrawled at two o’clock in the morning on October 31, 1920, would eventually lead to the solution of a medical mystery that had persisted for thousands of years." 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That young distraught man, Dr. Fred Banting, was not just at the end of his rope.  Little did he realize in those few moments half-asleep in the middle of the night, he was on the verge of the discovery of insulin for the treatment of type 1 diabetes.  Through all history, a diagnosis for type 1 was a death sentence. He pursued months of hard research in the face of skeptics and in a borrowed stifling-hot ill-equipped laboratory.  In July 1921 -- one hundred years ago last month-- those twenty-five words scratched out on a scrap of paper took root.  Insulin has saved the lives of millions of people.  Banting, that unsuccessful, unknown, and struggling doctor was the co-recipient of the Nobel Prize in Physiology in 1923.

Banting remarked in a lecture in Chicago in March 1925:

"We do not know when ideas come, but the importance of [an] idea ... cannot be overestimated.  From the nature of things, ideas do not come from prosperity, affluence and contentment, but rather from the blackness of despair, not in the bright light of day, nor the footlights’ glare, but rather in the quiet, undisturbed hours of midnight, or early morning, when one can be alone to think.  These are the grandest hours of all, when the progress of research, when the hewn stones of scientific fact are turned over and over, and fitted in so that the mosaic figure of truth, designed by Mother Nature long ago, be formed from the chaos."

It made me wonder about how many others ignored those wandering thoughts in the middle of the night that led to such a life-altering solution.  God was trying to get someone's attention.  And as seen over and over in scripture, God again used the unexpected and the unlikely to manifest His purposes.

And it made me think about what wakes me in the middle of the night.  Am I thinking?  Am I just worrying? Is God trying to nudge me about what I have left undone? Am I listening to Him? When have I welcomed those wrinkles in my sleep?

Few of us will discover medical breakthroughs, but God has strategically placed us for His glory right where we are to be faithful to Him.  Are we listening when seemingly unrelated pieces suddenly begin to converge?  Or do we dismiss those connections as random instead of recognizing the hand of the Almighty?  Or overlook the faithfulness of God breaking through? 

Then Jacob awoke from his sleep and said,

"Surely the LORD is in this place,

             and I did not know it."

                       Genesis 28. 16

Whatever and whenever that might be.  All things are profoundly significant in obedience to Him.  Far more than we realize, far beyond our lifetimes or our myopic vision.

Are we responsive to God's nudges in the quiet hours of midnight?  Or just turn over and go back to sleep?  How much do we miss because we are not listening?

 

For we are His workmanship,

created in Christ Jesus for good works,

which God prepared beforehand,

that we should walk in them.

                     Ephesians 2. 10

 

When Dreams Don't Tell the Whole Story

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She was not expected to be crossing the finish line when she did.  I mean, get real.  She is from Wisconsin.  Only two other American women have medaled in the women's Olympic marathon since its onset in 1984. 

But 27-year-old Molly Seidel stubbornly held on to the famed Kenyans in last week's women's Olympic marathon, side by side with world record holders, those women who were expected to win hands down.  When it became obvious in the last couple miles of the 26.2 mile blisteringly-fast race that this young unexpected Molly from Wisconsin was going to win the bronze medal, the commentator incredulously exclaimed, "She was born for this."

No, I said outloud, she trained for this.

It was not at all about talent or destiny or the wornout "believe in yourself" bookmark with all the glitter falling off.  

It was not even about Molly's school project, when she wrote as an eight year old that she wanted to go to the Olympics and win a medal.  Molly had not yet even started running.  She had no idea what that statement meant.  Just dreaming about something is not going to get you even to the starting line.

The hardest part of the competition is not the actual race, but those lonely days of sweat and sacrifice and hard work and unending practice, the failures, the falling down and getting back up again, the discouragement, when it hurts and you are so tired and you keep going, the hard stuff that changes us.

Sometimes the most difficult part is the actual race, when you are suddenly running with the Kenyans and it surprises you.  Or you are one of the last survivors and you just have to complete what you came for. 

While all that hard work might mean an Olympic medal or success in an recognizable field, or not, it does mean you have gained skills and endurance for the other more significant things in your life...and as a blessing to others.

I once heard a YMCA fitness instructor say at the end of a workout class, "When you leave this room, you are a little bit stronger than when you came through that door."

What am I doing today to build not just my physical strength, but God's strength in me?  Praying, meditating on His Word, listening attentively to His voice and responding.  What does that take?  What does that look like today?

Faithfulness to God and His strength are built into little daily choices, and not necessarily easy ones.  The build-up of endurance is revealed when we need it most.  "If we don't do the running in the little ways, we will do nothing in the crisis," states Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest.

The ability, the capacity, the willingness to respond does not suddenly appear, by merely thinking, wishing or dreaming about it.  Not always fun.  But working toward it.

"The proof of desire is in the pursuit," says pastor Chris Davis.

The result is not hung up strictly on performance and achievement, but on my heart.  Not just what I want to do "when I grow up," but "who do I want to be like?"  To do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with God (Micah 6. 8)

That kind of heart does not just happen.  It does not arrive like an unordered FedEx package.  Not what do I dream about, but what am I working toward?  What am I willing to work toward?  

In his ageless book The Pursuit of God, author A. W. Tozer points out that the faithful believers throughout the ages were just ordinary people, "But they differed from the average person in that when they felt the inward longing they did something about it.  They acquired the lifelong habit of spiritual response."   

They sought God, listened for His way, prayed expectantly, read Scriptures with intention, not just taking a passage with them into their day, but living the Word into what was before them.  Not just underlining in their Bibles, but engraving His Word in their hearts.

 

Train yourself for godliness;

for while bodily training

    is of some value,

godliness is of value

    in every way,

as it holds promise for the present life

and also for the life to come.

                 1 Timothy 4. 7

Rarely seen wildlife creature moments

 

The 11-mile Cades Cove loop in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park is one of my all-time favorite places to run.  It is a narrow one-way ribbon of asphalt that gently winds its way through a small valley, surrounded by a majestic ring of mountains.  It is known for wildlife sightings, or as some of our grandchildren described on a recent drive around the loop, "rarely seen wildlife creature moments."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In other words, if you want to see a black bear in the wild, Cades Cove is the place to be.  You may also see deer, wild turkeys, an occasional coyote, and for sure, the continuous splendor of trees.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had a narrow opportunity to run the Cove a couple weeks ago.  Because of the late July heat, I rejoiced in every bit of shade that decorated the pavement, as if I was moving from strength to strength.

At one point, a daunting hill seem to rise even steeper than I remembered it. The day was far warmer than the forecast. I was reminded of the ancient psalms of ascent that the Hebrew pilgrims sang on their way up to Jerusalem.  I was just halfway around the loop, and I was already flagging.  And there were about five more miles of hills to go before I finished.

I knew to keep my head down as to not be discouraged, to keep on running and never stop on an incline. Familiarity reminded me that there was indeed an end to this hill.  I have done it before.  Cars and trucks rumbled past me up the hill, over and out of sight, racing past to see the sights.  Most never even noticed me on the crumbling edges of the asphalt.

As I approached the top of that particular hill, I noticed a large SUV pulled over on the side of the narrow road.  I was curious about what the driver was waiting for and what he saw, perhaps a bear lazily rambling across the road or climbing the branches of a tree, or maybe he was admiring the sanctuary of trees, or soaking in the glory instead of rushing past and missing the wonder of this sacred place.

But the driver saw something else entirely different, not because what was before him, but because of what was in him.

As I slowly reached the ridge, I saw his window go down and a hand reaching out with a icy bottle of water right out of a cooler.  He didn't say anything.  He just smiled.  He didn't have to say anything.  I did not know him.  He was a stranger, as I was to him.  And he had been waiting for me.

He saw me struggling.  And he did what he could do.  Kind people live hilariously like that.

Kind hearts always look for another side to the scenery around them.  They see circumstances and other people differently.  Those who are kind recognize outward needs or inward struggles that are invisible to most.  And the kindhearted don’t think if they should help, but about how they can help.  They know there are no acts of kindness too small to shift the tectonic plates of the universe.  Sometimes they offer something to cover a physical gap, sometimes to come alongside to walk or run or listen, sometimes to encourage in word or deed, but always giving what is more tangible and eternal than we can ever comprehend.

 It was only a disposable bottle of water.  But not in God’s sight – nor in my own plight.  And I needed it more than I knew.  Instead, his action manifested the profound ministry of a cup of cold water, revealed by Jesus in scripture and played out through the ages.  Little unexpected kindnesses transform ordinary moments into extraordinary ones, full of the recognizable grace of God.  What we see as insignificant kindnesses reverberate beyond our comprehension.

“And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward.” (Matthew 10. 42)

I don’t know if this man was able to observe the black bears he had driven to the national park to see.  But he changed the course of my day by his selfless vision of what he did see.  My cup runneth over with the compassion I was given, a rarely seen and unexpected moment of kindness.

I doubt it was the first time he stopped to help a neighbor or someone he did not know. Nor his last.  Indeed, he did not just see need.  He saw opportunity to love God by loving others.

And no one can be left unchanged by that.