Happy April Fool's Day!

Glen called me this morning and told me that our neighbor's house had burned down!

I completely believed him. Why would I think that my husband would lie to me?

I asked him if he could go over and ask them if they needed any help. He said no one was there!

Oh my word, where could they be? I was having such a hard time taking it all in!

Then he said, "April Fools!"

The Open Mind: Is it a door we should walk through?

I am going to think this through. Feel free to voice your thoughts, because I haven't got it all figured out. Let's think biblically.

For some time, the CGS Pro-life group has been going on campus (actually, just across the street from on-campus, where free speech by non-student entities is still allowed) with a pro-life outreach. Some people hold signs, some hand out brochures or flyers, and some are able to engage people in conversations regarding dangers to and protection of the unborn, the characteristics and needs and rights of the unborn, etc.

This is an area of outreach that Glen and I at first avoided. Various "reasons" held us back. We are old; they are young. They won't listen to us. That is for the younger people. They are sophisticated and swimming in wisdom, and we are ordinary and have fumbling tongues. Eventually, all these things got shook out, and we are convinced that this is where we need to be from time to time.

The very things that previously held us back, now spur us on. We are old, and must share our wisdom and experience with the young. They won't listen to us, unless we have something to say. Very often, it is one's contemporaries that are the hardest to talk to, or to listen to, even though everyone struts about stating the opposite, together. Most importantly, the wisdom of the world is foolishness to God (I Corinthians 1).

Jeremiah 8:9
The wise will be put to shame;
they will be dismayed and trapped.
Since they have rejected the word of the LORD,
what kind of wisdom do they have?

On February 16, we went on campus, and Glen and I were not alone, but we had the Clint&Ginger family, and Carole, who introduced me to the idea of standing in defense of the unborn.

It's good to have others involved. Among many reasons is because through them I am able to see more clearly. I can see that what I had previously thought was great might be some distraction; but I am not sure, and this is what I am trying to think out here...
A man named Stephen came along, and when I first approached him, he refused my brochure. I asked more direct questions, attempting to engage him in conversation. He said that he undertands my point of view, but also understands the pro-choice view. I encouraged him to speak openly to me and to read my brochure, since a child is a person from conception, and ought to deserve, and certainly needs our protection.

He took the brochure and saw the panel that tells about sin and judgement and mercy. "Ah," he said, "you see, I have a problem with organized religion." ...and away we went. This man had read so many things, and accepted so many conflicting ideas as possibilities, that he frankly was at a loss for words at times to express the profoundly inexpressible. The only thing that he seemed opposed to considering was the God of the Bible, especially as revealed as a masculine entity. At this point, a friend of his inturrupted our encounter, and I slipped away. I was surprised that he reapproached me after his friend moved on.

He again asserted that he was too open minded to go for the old god-bible-religion thing. Since his basis for truth seemed so nebulous and broad-based, I told him that we really need to have a solid foundation of truth on which to bounce all these ideas, whether foolish or wise, off of to determine which to keep and which to discard. He talked, starry-eyed, about love for everyone as a basis of truth. I told him that he is right about that. The Bible tells us that true religion is caring for the orphan and widow, and loving our enemy and our neighbor as ourselves. So I told him that I, for instance would be in sin to leave this encounter if I didn't love him enough to tell him that he was dying in his sin, and that he would die and go to hell unless he submitted to God's Word in repentance, and embraced His Son in humility (I can't remember how I said it, certainly not so eloquently). He was visibly taken aback by this. I was certain he would walk away, but he continued.

He regained his composure, and said that even Jesus said that people would do things even greater than the things that he did, so he was admitting that he wasn't "all that." Praise be to God, who by His Holy Spirit is able to give us all that we need to do His good will, I was able to tell this man that Jesus said:

John 14:11 Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the miracles themselves. 12 I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. 13 And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. 14You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.

Eventually, I encouraged him to call or email me to continue the conversation, and we parted with a handshake and a friendly smile. I walked away, and moments later looked to where I had left him, and he was still there, looking at the brochure, and he waved at me again.

Another thing that happened that made me think, was that we saw a the woman that I have mentioned before, who is pregnant and will be keeping her baby. I had been unable to reach her for such a long time, and I was overcome with joy to see her. I spent quite a few minutes talking to her, both me and Ginger.

I am just not sure if I let myself get tied up with these people, or if they were valuable conversations. Can I be brief and caring? Do I cling to people because they will talk to me? Do I want nothing more than to win an arguement, for the sake of winning? How can I tell if this is a conversation that God wants me to engage in or a distraction sent by satan to prevent someone else from hearing a word from God's servant?

Talk to me.

Polycarp on the N Train

Once again, from long ago on the Bayly Blog, my favorite story:

Christmas, 1988, N Train

A young woman we know writes: It was the gilt-edged pages that gave him away. Most people who read the Bible on the subway have a small pocket edition and keep it to themselves. This young man looked as if he had come away with the family King James. Otherwise, he was ordinary-looking; gray jacket, plaid scarf, blue jeans, white sneakers, bristly brown hair; a gold wedding band. He waited until the N train had pulled out of the Queensboro Plaza station and was under the East River, and then he read aloud, "In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus…" A groan went out from my fellow-passengers.

Talk about a captive audience. The train was too crowded for people to switch cars. And New Yorkers will put up with all sorts of things rather than give up their seats on the subway. I couldn’t help thinking that the young man was lucky there were no maniacs aboard and no piles of stones at hand. But no matter how you feel about being force-fed the gospel under the East River it holds up better than the Times or the Post or the subway ads for Dr. Zizmor, dermatologist. Anyway, no one moved. No one said, "Oh, shut up." No one wanted to be identified as an irreligious loner at Christmastime.

I found myself criticizing the young man’s intonation. He had a good strong voice, but the words rocked up and back unvaryingly: "…to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child." When he was done, and the shepherds had rejoiced, he changed--thank goodness--his rhythm. He started singing "Joy to the World." He sang two full verses of it, again in a good, strong voice. But no one joined in. I was tempted, partly because I felt sorry for him--singing in the face of so much hostility--and also because I’m a sucker for actual human voices raised in song, as opposed to canned carols such as one hears in Doubleday (pa-rum-pa-pum-pum) and in Barnes & Noble (gloh-o-o-o-o-oh-o-o-o-o-oh-o-o-o-o-oh-ria). But I was sitting next to a man rigid with pain and fury at having his subway meditations interrupted, and I felt sorry for him, too. Especially when the young man finished singing and began to preach, reminding us that we were all God’s creatures on the N train and that for each of us He had a plan. God’s creature next to me was probably thinking that he didn’t take the subway to fall in with God’s plan--he took the subway to get to Fifty-ninth and Lexington.

(“The Talk of the Town” in The New Yorker, Dec. 26, 1988.)

So go out and light yourself on fire! What have you got to lose?

Ha en god reise, Glen!

Thursday evening my husband and I went to the corner of Kirkwood avenue and Indiana to reach out to the IU campus community on behalf of the unborn, as servents of Christ.

I always start out with simply offering a brochure and asking if I can give them some information. I have decided, though, that being vague is a huge waste of time, if I can be ignored, then conversations will not happen.

I almost right away started asking for responses from people about the issue of abortion or human beings at their most helpless stage of development, and so on. Few people were able to pass that corner without either despising me further, or thinking about the issue at some level.

Most people on that corner are common. Same same same. Glen began to think that it may have been unwise of us to send our daughters off to college, just so they could begin to think they know everything, like the people we met there.

Three things happened that night to impress themselves on my heart:

1. A swarm of conference attendees hit us in two waves. Of probably 50 or so people, not a single one took a pamphlet, and few even took the trouble to acknowledge my presense. They were so full of the knowledge that they had packed in that day, that they could not entertain even a smidgeon more.
   
2. A young man refused my brochure, saying something about being pro-choice. He was
   
   half way across the street when I said that on that basis we have something to talk about, and I started telling him about unborn children and so on. Instead of going obliviously along his way, he stood on the other side of the street and listened to me. He thought about what I said, and responded or pondered, depending on what the point was. He was in the middle of a ponderence when I came across the street and engaged him in an extended conversation about the issue.
   



3. When I finished, I came back to find Glen in a conversation with two guys (what do you call those guys who wear mostly black, are covered with tatoos, and have metal studs in various parts of their faces?) He finished talking to them and invited them to church. I hope they come.

I love God. I love Glen. I was glad they were both there with me. I hope that we see some of those people at church tomorrow.

One more thing: Glen is on his way to Norway! A lady from Norway was so delighted to see the Americans standing on the corner exercising their rights, that she took his picture and is going to show all her friends in Norway!

Ha en god reise, Glen!

Pre-Abortion Appointments

I have to say that, although I was again weak this Monday at Planned Parenthood, cowering in my car, I am renewed in my resolve that pre-abortion appointments need a godly witness. We need to be there on the sidewalk to talk to people. We need to meet them at the time of revealing. It is then that seeds may be planted. It is then that the ground is furrowed, and when no other seeds are sown but those of deception. It is then that the seeds of love, conviction, truth have soil to grow in.

I was reconvicted of this great need here in Bloomington, but I also discovered something that I had not considered.

Do you live in a city where there is a Planned Parenthood? Not every Planned Parenthood does abortions. Some do not. The one in Evansville does not, and that is where the man and his girlfriend in my previous post went for their pregnancy test, and referral. No one had told him about another option. He saw only obsticles. Would they have chosen differently, if someone had been there with another message? ...another choice? ...an offer of help, a hug? I don't know.

I do know that some people don't go to Planned Parenthood on the killing days, because it is too radical, too "militant" (it's not, really), too hopeless.

Some, who do go on the killing days do not go on the testing days, because the level of urgency is lower, maybe. I am not sure, but I think that is why I cower in my car, shamefully.

I would like to encourage you, whether you are the former or the latter, go. Based on the white harvest fields, go. Based on the call of Jesus to go to those in need, go. There is great need. Go.

He's Got the Power!

God is amazing! He is amazing in all He does, He is right in all He says, He is just in all His judgements! God holds the hearts of men in His hand, and directs them like a river to go here or there.

Thurdsay, May 8: I am sorry that I am finishing this post a week later. By now, much has sloshed out of my brain.

A black man came out of Planned Parenthood to smoke a cigarette. We had been there a while, and thoughts of leaving were on my mind. I had asked God to show us His glory, and He had. Here we were, in Bloomington saying things that no one wanted to hear. This is God's glory. He uses the foolish things of this world to confound the wise. He uses our weakness to show His strength perfect. We were weak fools, and we had confidence in God.

This black man was smoking his cigarette, and I motioned for him to come over. Here we were, the weirdos (everyone knows that we are weirdos, freaks) calling him to come to us, in the rain. He came over. Why did he come over?

He came over and stood, smoking his cigarette under my umbrella. I asked him why he was there. He shrugged his shoulders. He knew why we were there, didn't he? I asked him if he had gotten someone pregnant. He looked me in the eye and said, "Well, ya know, shit happens." I agreed. I told him the facts about unborn children and abortion. He said, "If we didn't do this, would you take the baby?"

At some point, I gave him one of my brochures.

I have to tell the truth. I can't take the baby. Glen and I have already talked about this. I also know, personally, several couples who would, and others who might. I also know, for a fact, that, given the opportunity, our church would support that woman through her pregnancy.

I told him the truth. Shelly asked him if he would go get her, if it's not too late. He started to give my brochure back to me, and said, "It's too late." I pushed the brochure back into his hand and told him of the pain she will feel later. I told him that she's going to be sad, and she won't understand, and he won't know how to help her. I showed him my phone number, and told him to have her call me. I told him that we want to help, that we love her.

He looked at me and his eyes melted. I knew that was how the woman at the well looked at Jesus. I think that God was glorified in our presense.

From there, the man confessed his sins to us. We told him about Jesus, and that he needs to read his Bible, and get married, and find a church family. We told him that the best we can do in this world on our own, is our lousy best. "Shit happens" alright. Jesus is our only hope.

Jesus is the answer to this man's pitiful attempt to improve himself. Jesus is the answer to his girlfriend's need for a man's approval. Jesus is the answer to my loveless heart. Jesus is our only hope, and our greatest fear!

God, I pray for Ray. I pray that he will be broken. I pray that you would grant him godly sorrow, and that you will give him a new heart!

A wife of noble character who can find?

I have recently, again, received the above graphic forwarded to me by email. (click on the picture for easier reading)

In the following weeks, I will commit to examining each point from the biblical perspective.

Make no mistake, I was raised in a feminist America. Feminism is the air we breathe. It is very much like trying to think like a tree to see things in another way. However, just because I am a woman of unclean lips, and everyone around me also has unclean lips, doesn't make unclean lips alright. This is not like wearing a kilt in Iowa, or jeans in the Buckingham Palace. These are things that have far-reaching, and commonly denied effects.

The funny thing is how simple little steps to make the home a pleasant place to gather have become, not only a lost art, but a laughing stock. The main reason is that we are a culture that teaches us to live for ourselves, for the most part. Even philanthropy is based on what's in it for me (WIFM) with tax breaks and incentives.

Some of the suggestions in this 1955 advice can simply be tossed, but we should not have thrown out the baby with the bath water. Reading these, makes my natural self, cry out, "Why?" or "But what about me?"

Mere nostalgia is not a hill I will die on, but this is really more than nostalgia. There are lessons to be learned from what we learned in '60s and '70s. "You've come a long way, baby!" Can we even see where it has gotten us? Women do not hold the place of honor that we used to. We have given up sacrificing ourselves for our children in order to grow old alone. We have given up serving our husbands, in order to raise our children without the strength of the father.

We have become all we need, to become all we have.

We have come a long way, baby!

Kindling Polycarp Incandescence

I first posted this in January of 2006. I had snatched it, though, from From the BaylyBlog. I just love this story; everything about it. I think of it often as I burn. It is an example of one setting himself on fire for Jesus:

...where will you take tidings of comfort and joy this (year)?


Christmas, 1988, N Train

A young woman we know writes: It was the gilt-edged pages that gave him away. Most people who read the Bible on the subway have a small pocket edition and keep it to themselves. This young man looked as if he had come away with the family King James. Otherwise, he was ordinary-looking; gray jacket, plaid scarf, blue jeans, white sneakers, bristly brown hair; a gold wedding band. He waited until the N train had pulled out of the Queensboro Plaza station and was under the East River, and then he read aloud, "In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus…" A groan went out from my fellow-passengers.

Talk about a captive audience. The train was too crowded for people to switch cars. And New Yorkers will put up with all sorts of things rather than give up their seats on the subway. I couldn’t help thinking that the young man was lucky there were no maniacs aboard and no piles of stones at hand. But no matter how you feel about being force-fed the gospel under the East River it holds up better than the Times or the Post or the subway ads for Dr. Zizmor, dermatologist. Anyway, no one moved. No one said, "Oh, shut up." No one wanted to be identified as an irreligious loner at Christmastime.

I found myself criticizing the young man’s intonation. He had a good strong voice, but the words rocked up and back unvaryingly: "…to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child." When he was done, and the shepherds had rejoiced, he changed--thank goodness--his rhythm. He started singing "Joy to the World." He sang two full verses of it, again in a good, strong voice. But no one joined in. I was tempted, partly because I felt sorry for him--singing in the face of so much hostility--and also because I’m a sucker for actual human voices raised in song, as opposed to canned carols such as one hears in Doubleday (pa-rum-pa-pum-pum) and in Barnes & Noble (gloh-o-o-o-o-oh-o-o-o-o-oh-o-o-o-o-oh-ria). But I was sitting next to a man rigid with pain and fury at having his subway meditations interrupted, and I felt sorry for him, too. Especially when the young man finished singing and began to preach, reminding us that we were all God’s creatures on the N train and that for each of us He had a plan. God’s creature next to me was probably thinking that he didn’t take the subway to fall in with God’s plan--he took the subway to get to Fifty-ninth and Lexington.

(“The Talk of the Town” in The New Yorker, Dec. 26, 1988.)

Don't be so mean, ya mean ol' Meanie!

Mean: What do you mean, "mean."

Today, at Planned Parenthood, I was loitering. A woman went in, alone, and I pretty much left her alone. As she came out and got in her vehicle, she looked at me. Then as she approached me, she stopped and rolled down her window and asked me if I needed a ride or something. I said, no, I'm here to offer people information about children, and abortion and life. I offered her a brochure.

She was repulsed, and the brochure that should have been in her extended fingers when I let go of it landed on her passenger seat. She said, "Oh-h, you're mean! So mean! Let people make up their own minds!" She handed the brochure back to me, and drove away.

Mean? Wow.

She was so kind, to ask me if I needed a ride. Why was I so mean?

Discouraged, maybe, but mean?

There was a guy who brought a girl. He was waiting for her to get out of the car when I pleaded with him to reconsider what he was here to do. Don't kill your child, it does nothing but damage to everyone involved. I exhorted him to take responsibility to to protect them. He ignored me. Then I tried to talk to the girl, who grinned at me and shrugged. They went in. He said something to me, but I can't remember what. He was very flippant and cool.

They came back out to fill out some papers on the bench behind the fence, so I went there and tried to talk to them. I offered her a brochure. She again just grinned at me. He said something about hell. I asked him to repeat it. I heard something about sodomites and hell, but I was still missing something, this wasn't making sense. I finally realized that he said that they were murderers and sodomites, and that they were going to hell. He seemed fine with that. I said, "OK, but would you please not kill your child on your way there."

"Nope, we're going to kill it."

What could I say? Mean? Me? Maybe. Lame is more like it. I don't know.

Secrets and Mice

It used to be that no one knew what went on in the Pierson home unless we told. Not so any more!

The last time we had mice, it was a great story to tell...if we so chose. This time, while I suspected that we had a wild visitor, I didn't know for sure until a member of our small group silently mouthed, "Mm-ouw-sss" to another one, and giggled. (sigh)

Later the same Sunday evening while we were engaged in a VERY serious discussion of sexual sin, another of our group saw one running through the rafters, and offered to catch it. (si-igh)

This morning, Glen discarded the seventh mouse caught in the week and a half since that meeting.

What's in a Name - Meme

Kim at Hinds Feet tagged me for the name game. At first I was thrilled. My Mom and Dad had eleven children. My youngest sister died shortly after birth. My parents gave each child a good Biblical name, and really quite good middle names. I have always been impressed with them. I really should sit down with them and ask them where each one came from and what they were thinking in choosing names:

David Lee
Timothy Ray
Daniel Wade
Deborah Kay
Thomas Keith
Elizabeth Faye
Peter James
Benjamin Scott
Rachel Lee
Hannah Lori
Dinah Ruth

I think I have blown my chance at this conversation, though, because my Mom still thinks I'm mad at her for giving me a hand-me-down middle name. If you're reading this, Mom, I'm really really over it.

Not bad for a woman whose parents gave most of brothers middle initials instead of middle names. My parents' names:

Viola Mae and James Samuel

We had a nap mat for kindergarten that was used by each sibling in succession. My Mom sewed each of our names on the mat. It was pretty neat. Each of us had Mrs. Lockwood for kindergarten, until Hannah's turn came. The school put her in the other teacher's room. My Mom tried to buck the system, but the system won. I hope that God worked that all out for the good of my sister and my Mom.

Now, on to the game:

WHAT’S IN A NAME?
1. You have to post these rules before you give the facts.
2. Players, you must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had.
3. When you are tagged you need to write your own blog-post containing your own middle name game facts.
4. At the end of your blog-post, you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Lee: There are only three letters and two of them are duplicates. This can't be that hard. I'm never any good at self contemplation, though and I tend to be too harsh. I asked for more objective help from family and got things like "Luscious" and "Egregious."

I went then to the online thesaurus, and found words like:

L: Loathsome, Lackluster, Languid and Lumpy

E: Enervative, Exigent
(and for some more enticingly exciting "E" words)

E: Exasperating, Echoic

I'm no good at this game. I'm not going to tag anyone. I had some interesting people in mind, but I'd rather they don't come here and read this.

There will be no puffing.

I am afraid to say this:

This video is very telling. Who are we to be more "compassionate" than God? If we cannot believe God, then what are we doing there? Who are we to speak for God, if we don't know, or won't say what He says?

I post this with great trembling. I am afraid of it. I don't want to be harsh, or uncaring. I don't want to be arrogant. I want to be faithful to God.

We are of all men, most foolish and pitiable. That is obvious.

What would I say?

My opinion here does not matter. I defer to God.

What does God say?

5 And for your lifeblood I will surely demand an accounting. I will demand an accounting from every animal. And from each man, too, I will demand an accounting for the life of his fellow man.

6 "Whoever sheds the blood of man,
by man shall his blood be shed;
for in the image of God
has God made man.

7 As for you, be fruitful and increase in number; multiply on the earth and increase upon it."

(Genesis 9:5-7)

For the Love of God!

Why do I write about these things? Just so I don't forget:

Today was a very interactive day at Planned Parenthood. Intense conversations.

A couple of women left Planned Parenthood and headed down the alley toward Walnut on foot. I greeted them and asked if I could give them some information. I was too far away to casually intersect their path, so they would either have to stop, or I would have to run if there was to be eye to eye. One continued on. One stopped. She took my paper, looked at it, folded it up and put it in her pocket while asking me if I had ever adopted a baby. I haven't, but...she scoffed. There you go..we have free choice. I asked her if she thought that wasn't a baby. She said that she knew it was a baby. I asked her if she thought then, that the woman's perogative superceeded the helpless one's right to live. She said that we have free choice, and I have never adopted a baby.

Later, when they returned and were talking to the guard and escort, I called to her that there are no unwanted children. (there are truely people who want these children) She came right over to me (all the time telling me that I am casting judgement on these people and don't know their struggles) and stood and talked to me about poverty, down-trodden women and babies who have nothing. She said that she and her mother were there, in poverty, have I ever been? I told her that I am ready to help, and others like me. I asked her if she knew of any who need help now? She said no. I offered her my phone number so she could call me when she found one who needed help. As she walked away, she said that she will be too busy helping them herself.

I told her that is why I am here. .. to help those who are helpless, and dying. (This is where I went and cried in my husband's arms while he prayed for me. God gives strength.)

A man and woman arrived and got out of their car. As I approached, he raised his hand and said that they were not here to kill a baby today. (peace, peace) When they came back out, I asked if they were there for an appointment, or just to check out the place (this cut off the joke about liking babies fried). I gave the man a flyer as we talked, and the woman said that it was really none of my business and that I will leave her alone. She looked sad, and as she waited for her man to unlock her door from the inside, I noticed her brown paper bag and paperwork. I probably gave them the wrong flyer. They needed information about the morning after pill.

Right after I told the guard and escort that I hoped that God would grant them a guilty conscience, to hear the cries of their helpless victems, repentance and faith, I gave an escort a flyer. I told her I hadn't seen her there for a while and offered to buy her a cup of coffee (I've been listening to John Piper sermons on the subject...how do you love a woman at the well?). I offered her my phone number. She refused, saying that she would just see me here (Lord willing).

Another woman with van with a Florida license plate took my flyer, told me she would read it, and that she would leave it with them (Planned Parenthood). She was older (although probably younger than me) and she was with a youngish looking man; nineteen or twenty. I did not see the woman she presumably brought for an abortion (she made a noncommitally affirmative gesture when I asked if that was what she was there for).

Another couple came out, ignoring me, and started to leave with their windows rolled tightly up. I held out a flyer in a lame attempt to communicate with them, knowing that they would just drive by. They stopped, though, rolled down their windows, and took my flyer.

Why do I write about these things? I wonder if I write them because I think I'm cool, fast on my feet, or clever. I wonder if I write them to get some sort of positive feedback from my friends. Sometimes I am a most rediculous woman.

As I am writing, I see what I did, and re-hear what I said, and it makes me sick to my stomach. What a poor excuse for a watchman. What a rediculous woman!

What a Glorious God!
Why did the one woman stop and the other go on?
Why is it that she now has our flyer in her pocket?
Why did that woman from Florida go out of her way to take my flyer, make eye contact with me and exchange words?
Why did she threaten to give it to the people in Planned Parenthood, and probably carry through with that?
Why, then, did J Lewis, the manager, come out? He seldom comes out, and only when he feels like things are intense, I think.
Why on earth would that couple, safely encased in their car, stop, hold up the car behind them, open their window, and take my flyer?

 1 The king's heart is in the hand of the LORD;
       he directs it like a watercourse wherever he pleases.

 2 All a man's ways seem right to him,
       but the LORD weighs the heart.

 3 To do what is right and just
       is more acceptable to the LORD than sacrifice.

 4 Haughty eyes and a proud heart,
       the lamp of the wicked, are sin! (Proverbs 21)

 9 In his heart a man plans his course,
       but the LORD determines his steps. (Proverbs 16)

Birth Control

Marriage, Singleness, and Birth control: Hot Topics.

I read today something that I hope to always remember. Pyromaniacs started a series entitled "Hello Out There." In it, the author intends to speak culturally to cultural people about important things, leaving behind the shibboleths of Christianity. I think this is a good idea. I think that I myself have nothing to say to the world, my neighbors, others. God does, though, and I keep hearing people say that you have to give it to them in their own language. You have to be relevant. So, I'm glad the Pyros have started this. I am looking forward to learning how to be as wise as serpants, and as gentle as doves.

In the first installment, on truth, the author says:

The Christian agrees with his non-Christian neighbors on one point: no mere mortal has the authority to create and impose truth on another. It is the Christian position that we are all finite: "we are but of yesterday and know nothing, for our days on earth are a shadow" (Job 8:9). Even the smartest man is limited in his grasp of the facts. Further, none of us has the infinite perspective necessary to assign the right meaning to those facts we do possess. We are bound into our own context, and lack a transcendent vantage point.

I think it is also important to remember to keep the content scriptural. How do you find that balance? I don't know, but I will try. I'm not sure that it is a balance so much because, how can you possibly balance anything with Scripture. When men try, Scripture gets diluted. On the other hand, I get in trouble, and err, when I think I am God's interpreter, His lawyer, His partner, His beautician, His public relations coordinator.

Church of the Good Shepherd had a very compelling sermon called Fruit of the Spirit (2/26/06). The springboard for this sermon was Galatians 5:22-26. While the sermon was excellent, I question the premise (although, God may use children to grow the fruit of the spirit in His children). If I were discussing godly seed, the blessing of children, or full quivers, I would not use Galatians 5 to back me up.

Pastor Bayly, however, used an unexpected springboard for this sermon, quite possibly for the very purpose of calling us from our selfishness, greed, fear and pride. I will also approach this discussion from probably an unexpected direction to shine God's light, I hope, on other ways that we may fail, calling God's discipline on us.

HONOR YOUR FATHER AND MOTHER This may seem a little backward, but bear with me for a moment, and I'll see if I can't get to a point.

I grew up in a family of ten children. As a child, my plan was also to have as many children. When my eldest brother stopped having children after two, I promised my Mom that I would have 18. My parents were jars of clay. They did their best, and that was a mighty fine job.

When I was thirteen, my Mom was expecting her eleventh child. My oldest brother, who was thirteen when I was born, had a son. The pregnancy was, I'm sure, not an easy one for my forty-six year old mother, but she bore this burden joyfully, even while defending the child's very existance. She sewed diapers, burp cloths, nighties and quilts. She was glowing.

My little red-headed sister, Dinah Ruth, did not live more than thirteen hours out of the womb. She was born too early, and her lungs were not ready. Her death was a greater burden to my mother than her life had been. Her smile and joy were packed away with the unused nighties and the unsoiled diapers.

The next few years were very dark, and to my shame, I was not a help to my mother in her pain, or a comfort in her time of sorrow. Instead I distanced myself from her need. The odd thing is that distance tends to create callouses, where as closeness creates softness in hearts. Here is where I began to despise my mother.

For many years, I continued in this sin, and God did not strike me down. I began to see all of my mother's faults, and to disagree with her lifestyle. I remember telling people as an adult that I thought my mother should have stopped having children after four, because the world would have been a sadder place without my oldest sister. So I despised the goodness of God, and loved the things of the world.

As an adult the concept of birth control was not even an issue. Yes, you control births. Relationships, education, career, and self esteem were my highest goals. My first marriage was to a barren man, and I cried myself to sleep at the thought of never having children, but I did not still recognize my sin, or repent of it.

After that one failed, I married a man (Glen) who had two children already, and he longed to have children with a wife (me) together. So we "decided" to have children, and did have two of them. (Praise be to God for His inexpressible mercy to us, opening my undeserving and rebelious womb, and granting us children to teach us our sin.) Then the decision was made for me not to have any more.

Is this command to honor your father and mother tied up in the blessings of God? I think so. God has used His birth control, to discipline me, and convict me of this sin, and teach me His way.

I have worn myself out with this first point, and cannot complete the next two points, but leave them here to feed our thoughts. I am happy to engage in this discussion personally or by blog or email.

SERVE THE LORD YOUR GOD WITH ALL YOUR STRENGTH, ALL YOUR HEART AND ALL YOUR MIND

Serve the Lord now. I see and experience so much discontentment with where we are, always hoping for the next blessing. I want to be married. I want to have children. I want to have more room for hospitality. I want to serve the Lord in Africa. I want to do this, I want to have that.

We need to be looking daily, and asking daily for the tasks and relationships that God has for us today, while it is today. We need to be faithful in the small things.

RECEIVE WITH JOY FROM YOUR FATHER'S HAND

Would you receive "good" only from the Father's hand and not evil too?

Thinking on my feet

I am really bad at thinking on my feet, but I am not allowed that excuse anymore.

Instead, as a servant of Jesus Christ, I must be ready to give an answer for the faith that lives in me.

Today, at Planned Parenthood, the importance of getting beyond myself and living in Christ was brought to light for me.

A woman and a man pulled up and parked. As they got out of their car, I greeted them and asked the woman if she was there for an appointment. She looked as if she didn't understand the question, and I repeated it, and to clarify, asked if she thought she might be pregnant. She said something and I asked if I could give her some information about unborn children that I didn't think they would give her in there. She said she has two children and knows all about them, and that it was none of my business. I backed down.

(In this process, the couple was diverted from the easy entrance to the facility to the front entrance.) They finished their smokes and went in.

When they came out, as they passed me (again, going oit of their way to pass near me), she said that I need to go home and mind my own business. She had a package of "Plan B" pills. I told her (they were nearly to their car by now) that I was just here, speaking for those who couldn't speak for themselves; they're too little. *She came back accross the parking lot to tell me that if I knew how difficult this was for people (the pregnancy itself) I would go home and stop making people feel guilty for making a difficult decision like this. She said that I need to get a f---ing life.

All I could think of was, "I hope you do too." I didn't say it though, because I knew that it sounded beligerant, and not the way I meant it, that she would find life.

*Here is the change as I see it. This is where the discussion went from abstract to personal. Here is where she exposed her tender underbelly. This is where she showed me her pain. This is a woman at the well.

I didn't see this until I was on my way back to work. Have I become that calloused? In retrospect, I could see that when I mentioned the little ones, she became defensive. That is when she walked away from the protective shell of her car to come back to me. This is where she went out of her way to come face to face and eye to eye to defend herself to a complete stranger whom she will likely never see again.

Jesus would have seen this. Jesus would have taken this discussion right to the issue.

You cannot plan each conversation that you have. This is not a play with a script and a score. This is life and God brings people near and we have something to say.

God, put a guard at our lips and give us these words of life to share with those whom you bring near, and make us faithful to speak them. Give us eyes that can see the pain of others, and their real need. Give us love for You that is all comsuming, and compassion for those who are wandering.

Whatever.

1. Blogs

I used to like the BaylyBlog, out of our minds, too (http://timbayly.worldmagblog.com/timbayly/). While it looks boring compared to the new one (http://www.baylyblog.com/) and the address is more cumbersome, it was comfortable. Now, for some reason, when I read the new one, the words get all jumbled up in my mind. They are sticky and they don't make sense to me. Is it because they are while/grey words on a black field? Is there something different with the tone of the writing? I don't know. It is quite possible that I am an old fogey, and I cannot adjust as well as I did in the past.

2. Denominations

I read something on that blog with today's date and the title, "The Vatican shames Evangelicals." Discussions like this are disturbing to me. While I admire the Catholic church for the strength they show in opposing the murder of the defenseless and upholding church discipline and Biblical masculinity and femininity I cannot stand with them on even these issues, because even these issues are sinking sand. Therefore when I compare their stand against homosexuality with the falling of many Evangelical denomination, I cannot stand with them or sink with the rebellious denominations. I know that I sound simplistic in this, but II Corinthians 6 warns us again being yoked with unbelievers. If a church disbelieves in the saving power of Jesus Christ, and depends on rites and merits for favor in the sight of God, then how can I stand with them in defending the fatherless? Am I not then trading the power of the living God for the power of a long established church with powerful traditions and a wide base? If a church disbelieves in the inspiration of scripture and thinks that she can disregard the clear teaching of scripture regarding sexual sin without fear, how can I stand with them?

This kind of argument just blows my mind! Apples and oranges.

I have to stand on solid ground. I hope to understand, through clear reasoning and scripture, better how to respond to these issues. Come, let us reason together.

3. Face the Truth

There is a show on the radio that comes on during the week for just a couple of minutes. It is a pro-life show. A guy named Steve Veruka (sp?) is on it. He is a friendly sounding guy with a gruff voice. I like to listen to it. I have found that they have a longer version on Saturdays. I listened to it a couple of times this month while on the road with my husband. It turns out to be a catholic program, which, is not the problem, even after what I wrote above. The disturbing thing about it was a conclusion that they drew:

They were discussing "Pro-Abort Catholics" and how despicable they are. They concluded that is was one thing if they came a partook of the eucerist (which, I think is the Lord's Supper...communion), after all, God can take care of Himself. It is quite another thing, though if they come and try to preside over their prize bingo! This travesty should not, no cannot be allowed!

Which is sacred?

Filthy Rags

All of us have become like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags;
we all shrivel up like a leaf,
and like the wind our sins sweep us away. --Isaiah 64:6

I have had many things pass through my mind recently that I would like to blog about. Then I log on, read what I have written, and think, "What foolishness! What trash! How harsh this is! How can I stand to write this? What do I hope to accomplish?"

Compare to the clear and humble logic of Jiho Kim (the last column in the last page of his own blog role set-up); or the clear and gentle logic of David Talcott (click on the post regarding the Emergent Church to get a feel for the gentleness with which he engages an opponant); or the gently, quiet wisdom of Anne Wegener, who with sacred gentleness exposes her weaknesses and shares her strengths. All of the links on my sidebar are to those places better spent reading than here.

A cloud without rain.
Unworthy of paper.
Just a speck in the heap of cyber trash!

But the Word of God is true, right, good. It is living and active.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. --Philippians 4:8