Faith Dancing -- Gibson

“It’s time to get your faith dancing,” croons gospel singer Sandi Patty.

I’m sure she means the good days, when you live up to what you say you believe, and know you’d die for the same. When you sit slow at Jesus’ feet, and stand up fast for what you know is right. When you stay silent in the face of accusers, and speak up in the face of wrong. When you love the things God loves. Hate the things he hates. When you wake, stirred up to serve and fall into bed at night, thinking, “God and I were SO GOOD today.”

On those days, the music of life rings sweet, and the dance of faith feels graceful.

I’ve had some days like that. One, at least. I think I marked it on the calendar. I’ve had plenty more when it seems I can barely take a single step without messing up. When my walk of faith feels less like a dance than a series of bumbling missteps in all directions. Like trying to perform ballet while wearing clogs.

Then I have a father memory, and I remember what to do...

Years ago, I tried to show my visiting elderly dad a polka step I was learning for the musical production, Oklahoma.  I’d taken only a few steps when Dad grinned and cleared his throat. “That’s not the polka,” he said. His feet tapped the floor in front of his chair, demonstrating steps they hadn’t taken in a half-century, not since his youth. He was the most sought-after dancer on the barn dance circuit before his love for dancing out his faith overshadowed his passion for dancing a fine reel.

“You put this foot here, and that foot there, and your rhythm is all wrong—ya’ don’t do it so fast.”

I started over. A one, two, three…and a  one, two…trip.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Nope. Still wrong.”

I tried again. Tripped over my feet again. Messed up the rhythm. He laughed harder.

“Daddy,” I said, frustrated. “Just get up and show me!”

He grinned a boyish grin, as though he’d been waiting for me to ask. Then he stood up, took me in his arms and led me. As I leaned into him, I began to catch the rhythm. The pattern began making sense. And in my father’s arms, the steps came not perfectly, but at least more naturally.

The dance of faith is best done like that. In our Heavenly Father’s embrace, moving to the Holy Spirit’s rhythm and following the steps of Jesus Christ. That doesn’t mean the dance doesn’t get messy; that toes won’t get stomped on and steps missed. Or that you won’t fall.

None of that means failure. Failure is refusing to get up, to listen for the music of the Spirit, to start again.

How goes your dance? Get up. Start over. Father God is longing for an invitation to lead.

Kathleen Gibson ponders faith and life in her books, columns, broadcasts, and articles.

The lady still can't polka.

The Trouble With Cussing Christians - Arends

Here is my most recent Christianity Today column. It has engendered by far the strongest viral reaction of any of my columns--repsonses both strongly for and against. I'm tempted to introduce it with dozens of caveats, clarifications and "other-hands," but I best just let it speak for itself, at least to begin. I'd love to have a conversation about it, though. Let me know what you think.

The Trouble with Cussing Christians

Do Christians have a unique call to avoid strong language?

Carolyn Arends [ posted 4/15/2013 ]

Recently, rushing late to my son's orthodontic appointment, I missed a critical left turn. Much to my surprise, I exhaled a "bad" word by our family's standards. (Please understand, dental receptionists don't suffer tardiness lightly, and my punctuality track record isn't strong.)

"Mom!" exclaimed my children.

"What?" I stammered, feigning innocence, and adding the sin of deception to strong language.

Apparently my mother was right all along. One sin leads to another. And we shouldn't use bad words.

Except … it's cool these days to be a Christian who swears. It gives the curser an "I'm into Jesus, but I'm not legalistic" badge. A recent tweet about a behavioral study that linked swearing and honesty went viral among my church friends (although no one could produce a link to the actual study). Many of these friends point to the arbitrariness of the cuss-word system.

"What if table was a swear word?" asked my daughter. "Or elbow?"

She has a point. There is something absurd about the designation of particular words as profane. And yet, neither table nor elbow is in the curse category, and the majority of swear words have earned their designation according to a certain logic. Other than words associated with deity, most profanity involves associations with biological function in the areas of sexuality and waste elimination. The God-related curses are right off the table, if one takes the third commandment seriously at all. But what is a Christian to do with the remaining "strong language"?

All language is a kind of social contract. We agree—as heirs of centuries of etymological development—to call the pointy thing in our arm an elbow, just like we agree to label things we find despicable with words we identify as profane. The words themselves hold only the power we give them. But curse words tend to be powerful indeed, because to linguistically reduce something or someone to the level of biological functions (and their resultant products) is almost always an act of contempt. And contempt is toxic.

In his book Blink, Malcolm Gladwell describes the work of psychologist John Gottman. In Gottman's lab, spouses were asked to discuss something mildly contentious while sensors recorded their physiological responses. After years of studying the nuances of these exchanges, Gottman became startlingly successful at predicting which couples would divorce. The most telling indicators, he claims, are expressions of contempt. An eye roll or a mildly disdainful put-down was more worrisome than outright conflict. In fact, the presence of contempt in a marriage affects not only the survival of the relationship, but even the immune systems of the parties involved; spouses who live with chronic contempt get more colds than those who don't.

Contempt is a mixture of anger and disgust, expressed from a position of superiority. It denigrates, devalues, and dismisses. It's not hard to understand why even subtle levels of contempt are damaging—not only in marriages but in all human interaction.

If profane language has a privileged place in the lexicon of contempt, then Christians have a unique mandate to avoid profanity. It's not that abstaining from pejorative language outfits us with some holier-than-thou halo. It's that we are called to live with a servant's heart, affirming the dignity of every human and the sacredness of existence.

Theologian John Stackhouse points out that our primary vocation as Christ followers is not to "stay pure," but rather to cultivate shalom. From Isaiah's picture of a wolf living peacefully with a lamb (11:6), to Paul's description of a new reality that obliterates racial, socioeconomic, and gender-based power structures (Gal. 3:28), the biblical vision of shalom dissolves any notion of hierarchy. All of creation joyfully submits to the beautiful rule of its Creator. There's no room for one creature to hold another creature (or creation itself) in contempt; God alone occupies a superior plane.

Of course, it's possible to religiously avoid disdainful language while being seized with contemptuous thoughts. But, as the Book of James reminds us, our tongues are like rudders to the ships of our thought lives. Taming our language, in other words, is a good place to start.

And so I am trying to avoid language that expresses contempt towards people, situations, and yes, even traffic lights that dare to defy my will. Such an endeavor goes beyond comedian George Carlin's "Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television"—even the most innocuous words, if uttered from a contemptuous heart, can mutate into curses. Conversely, certain evils can indeed be worthy of contempt and there are times when "adult language" is appropriate. But in every case, our words should reflect our calling to participate in hallowing, rather than profaning, the world. If it's truly strong language that we're after—language with power and impact—what could be stronger than the language we use to cultivate shalom?

Do You Have an Accountability Partner? - Laura J. Davis

Everyone is accountable to someone - your boss, your spouse, your bank,  your weight-loss coach! The word accountable according to Dictionary.Com means, "subject to the obligation to report, explain, or justify something; responsible; answerable."

As a writer, it is very important that you have a group of people, or a good friend that you can be accountable to. I have a wonderful friend who encourages me when I want to give up. She is also my sounding board when I am frustrated. She deserves to be paid, for putting up with me and I'm lucky to have her in my life. She also prays for me and I can feel her prayers (especially when inspiration takes over!).

If I need to meet a deadline, all she has to say is, "How is the writing going?" and if I hem and haw, she knows I'm having problems. That's when she becomes someone I can bounce my ideas off of, to see if they are plausible. She is also not afraid to critique my writing. Not criticize - but critique. There is a difference. One is helpful and encouraging, the other is discouraging and serves no purpose.

A good accountability partner will:

1. Encourage you
2. Pray for you
3. Listen to you
4. Be aware of your deadlines and gently remind you when they are due
5. Make sure that you get out of the house (writers are notorious loners, so it's good to step away from your computer once in a while and have some fun!)
6. Basically, she/he will be a wonderful friend that you will have for life

Now, just in case you think this is a one-sided relationship where you as the writer get pampered by your best friend and she/he gets squat - think again!

A good writer will:

1. Encourage their accountability partner (aka - best friend!)
2. Pray for them
3. Listen to them
4. Be aware of what is going on in their lives and offer support when needed
5. Take them out for coffee
6. And above all enjoy their friendship!

Of course as a Christian writer, my accountability to God always comes first. If I'm not writing to glorify Him then I'm doing it for all the wrong reasons. That is another good reason to have an accountability partner. To make sure that what you are writing stays true to what you believe.

So how about you? Do you have someone who gets you through that next chapter? 

Until Next Time!

www.laurajdavis.com
www.interviewsandreviews.com
www.learningfromthemaster.com

 

Love in Many Colours by Ruth Smith Meyer

Love blooms in many places, times and ages. Saturday we attended our third wedding in four weeks. None of these weddings were what is most apt to come to mind when you first think of such an occasion.  You know—a young couple discovering the one with whom they want to spend the rest of their lives, inexperienced but blissfully happy and looking forward to a life of happily-ever-after, the wedding day a culmination of careful planning and nervous anticipation.  Love, new young love is exciting for what it is and what it can become.

The couple at our first wedding the beginning of May, had known each other since grade school and had off and on crushes on each other.  Sound typical?  No not quite, for they both married others and have gone through the agony of break-down, feelings of entrapment and failure and final severance of those first vows.  It’s not what any of us would long for, but it happens.  Then they found each other again, still reeling from the difficult times they have faced.  They are older and perhaps wiser.  The happiness on their faces reflected their love. Love has risen from the ashes and bloomed again.

The second wedding was between two forty-somethings who never found the right one before they discovered each other. Although they are inexperienced in marital relationships, their lives so far have been full—they have experienced varied slices of life and service, growth and maturation in many other ways. They’re comfortable in their skin.  The light and joy on their faces too, spoke of their happiness in this new love they have discovered in each other.  Love, long-awaited has finally burst into bloom.

Saturday was different again.  This time it was two seniors who had loving partners for many years and grieved to see their spouses slip away and to leave them widowed. They have struggled to find who they were as single people.  After a life time of sharing everything, their meals eaten alone, the places they wanted to or needed to go feeling so different with no one to share, the end of the days coming with no one to talk over what happened and to sound out new ideas they uncovered, no one to really need them.  Then they discovered each other. Even though the groom needed a little help in walking the aisle, he was almost giddy with joy and excitement.  The bride’s face shone with love and care. Love has bloomed again like fall asters surrounded by autumn leaves fallen to the ground, we could see real magnificence and a deep hue of beauty reserved for those with such a level of maturity and stability.

It’s something God has built into us—the longing to share our lives intimately with someone else. It’s beautiful when the connection is made and grows into that kind of love.  We rejoice when two people discover a deep love and commit themselves to each other.  But it doesn’t always happen. 

There are many women and a few men in my circle of friends who have my admiration.  Those are the ones who have dreamt of having that special someone and for love to bloom in their lives but it hasn’t happened (at least yet.)  However they have found ways to be happy, to serve and be special friends and encouragers to others in their lives.   They are happy and living useful lives, spreading their own brand of happiness.  It may not be romantic love, but love blooms there too.

Love in any life is important.  There are so many aspects to love and ways to experience love.  Perhaps the best way to finish this reflection is part of a rendition of 1 Corinthians 13 read at the most recent wedding:

We know only a portion of the truth,

       what we say and know about God (or love)

                  is always incomplete.

But when the Complete arrives,

our incompletes will be canceled.

We shall know fully,

                                    even as we are fully known,

(and isn’t that part of our longing for love?)

We don’t yet see things clearly.

      We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist.

But it won’t be long before the weather clears

      and the sun shines bright!

We’ll see it all then,

see it all as clearly as God sees us,

                                    knowing him directly just as he knows us!

  But for right now,

until that completeness arrives,

we have three things to do

            to lead us toward that consummation:

 

Trust steadily in God,

hope unswervingly,

love extravagantly.

 And the best of the three is Love.

Near to God's Heart by Rose McCormick Brandon

Last Sunday morning I awoke in the hospital. I'd had surgery a few days earlier and my mind was foggy from medication that didn't mask the pain. I managed to get myself ready for my going-home day then I eased my wounded body into a chair.

I'd been weepy for a couple of days. Life-changes, good or bad, often render me teary - not sure why - I accept this as part of my make-up and no longer try to fight against it.

Truth - I enjoy a good cry. I cleanses my soul and forces me in weakness to draw closer to my heavenly Father. As I sat in the chair, the sun, which hadn't been seen for days, shone through the window beside me.

Then, a hymn rose in my heart -

There is a place of quiet rest, near to the heart of God

A place where sin can not molest, near to the heart of God

O Jesus blessed Redeemer sent from the heart of God

Hold us who wait before You, near to the heart of God.

I hummed along, sensing harmony with the ball of fire lighting up the room. The same hands that formed the sun holds my life. As a mother snuggles a baby close to her breast, our marvellous God draws us to a place close to his heart.

Do you feel weak? Far from God? Let the words of this old hymn remind you that you too have a place where you are nestled in His arms, close to His heart. This special place is always available no matter how old, or how weak you become or how far away you may  sometimes feel from Him.

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. James 4:8

Rest your whole being in Jesus today.

(My book, One Good Word Makes all the Difference is available here.)

Eyes-Down Danger . . . Raised Gaze --- (Peter A. Black)

He was probably 12 or 13, and swept right off the sidewalk from an intersecting street.  
I saw him in the nick of time and took evasive steering and braking action, averting a collision between my car and his body and bike. The kid carried on his sweet way with his mobile music device buds in his ears, as though nothing had happened. The sidewalks and roads were all his.

The adrenalin rush hadn’t quite settled down before a youngster on a skate board flipped it on the sidewalk and stumbled onto the road.

An automobile takes a corner ungainly and wide. The driver, steering with one hand, holds a phone at the ear.  Another driver’s eyes are down, peering at a smart phone screen, thumb flicking out a text message.

You’ve seen them—skaters ghosting along on roller blades, youths careening down the road on skateboards, longboards and bikes, staring blankly ahead, preoccupied with whatever’s coming through their mobile sound system ear buds.  And I suspect some joggers too, get lost in a world of intimate sound. 

Several weeks ago I witnessed a car come crashing down on its roof after slamming into a stationary vehicle, in broad daylight. The driver’s life was spared, but she was charged with careless driving. It’s believed that the woman had been texting or otherwise using a mobile phone, while accelerating after leaving an intersection.  That’s eyes down danger!

Little babies and toddlers with "eyes-down moms" can be put in very real danger. Have you seen this sort of scenario?: A mom’s conversing or dialing on her mobile phone—or worse, texting—while pushing a baby stroller. She arrives at the kerb, but is preoccupied with twiddling her thumbs over the touchpad, and her eyes are down. Her attention’s not on the child or the traffic conditions. She dips the buggy onto the road and saunters out.

At that moment a driver swerves to avoid hitting them. Next, a vehicle comes round a corner and barely misses the baby buggy bearing its precious cargo. The mom jabbers away, crossing towards the other side, pushing her infant’s carriage ahead of her, oblivious to the fact she’s placing the child in danger. Her baby is first on the road and in the primary position of danger.
Of course, operating a mobile phone and texting can be done safely. Unfortunately, many people use this useful tool in unwise and inappropriate ways.

We can go about our lives with our spiritual eyes down. Putting much of our focus on the trivial and minutiae of life, we can become unaware of either the blessings around us or the potentially harmful situations we may stumble into.

Let us raise our gaze from the incidental to the transcendent, as we make our way through life. This can help us avoid unnecessary danger, while enjoying life and appreciating and sharing its blessings.

Isn’t that also a necessary approach in regard to developing and maintaining healthy relationships, and nurturing our spiritual and moral life—to focus on where we’re headed and yet be aware while on the journey?

“We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne” (Hebrews 12:2 NLT).

~~+~~

Peter A. Black is a freelance writer in Southwestern Ontario, and is author of “Parables from the Pond” – a children's / family book (mildly educational, inspirational in orientation, character reinforcing).

  (Finalist -- Word Alive Press ISBN 1897373-21-X )

His inspirational column, P-Pep! appears weekly in The Guide-Advocate. His articles have appeared in 50 Plus Contact and testimony, and several newspapers in Ontario.

~~+~~

 

Transitions - Eleanor Shepherd

"Life is all about transitions."  If I was writing this about ten years ago I would likely have said that life is all about change.  However it seems that the idea of change has become so prevalent that it has taken on negative connotations. We can lose ourselves in change.  So now the operative word is transitions. It seems a little gentler.  When we transition to something it sounds like we are in a process of gradually letting go of what we had as we reach for what lies ahead.  In my mind, I hear a piano sonata that modulates gently from one theme to another, carrying us along with it.

It is true that life is all about transitions.  I have watched that over the last twenty months as I have interacted with my little granddaughter.  When she arrived she did little but eat, sleep and display normal bodily functions.  However our joy was in watching her awaken from sleep and discovering her expressions as slowly she began to respond to the world around her, beginning to transition from a neonate to an infant.  Before many weeks, she began to interact with the familiar faces and her first smiles appeared.

As her little body grew and developed, she began to transition into mobility.  Instead of remaining on her back in the crib, she learned to roll over and before long she was sitting up on her own and next thing we knew she was skittering across the floor having developed her own method of locomotion.  Transitions came fast and furiously as she began pulling herself into an upright position, learning to bear her weight on a her legs and feet and the next thing we knew she was walking and running.  No longer an infant, she had transitioned into a toddler.


Equally astounding to this rapid transition from complete physical dependence for mobility to independent locomotion has been the transition from muteness other than cries to indicate discomfort or distress to a mimicking of words in three different languages.  It began with the chuckles and chortles of delight at discovering she had a voice and could use it.  The transition to comprehension of what was being said to her seemed almost imperceptible until she began responding to the instructions given to her and it was clear that she was understanding the meaning of words.  To think that all of these transitions have happened in only twenty months is astounding.  Were the changes to continue to occur as frequently over the next twenty years, the future would be unimaginable.  Fortunately the pace slows. We become conscious that we can choose the role that we will play in transitions.  Sometimes the results are not what we anticipate.  Perhaps that is why as we age we are not as quick to embrace the changes.  Our ability to relish them declines when they do not always lead to life and growth.

What is the turning point? When do we move from anticipating change with joyful expectation to accepting transitions as inevitable.  What are the triggers that engender a change of perspective? Is it when we finish our formal schooling and discover that we need to enter into a world where we must transition from a form of dependence to autonomy, taking responsibility for our own future? Is it when we decide to enter into a significant relationship as we weave our lives together in the stability of support from a reliable life partner.  Is it when we finally find our career niche, doing something that brings us satisfaction in our daily labour?  Perhaps it comes with the growing awareness    that our active years in the labour market are quickly coming to a close or when we discover that our body is no longer reliable and presents us with unexpected health challenges.  Do these events cause us to feel more cautious about our transitions, knowing the eventually our places will be assumed by others and what then?

Transitions will at many points intersect with the life of faith. We can view change and transition as part of a megastory. Through all of the transitions of life, when we are people of faith, there is always an eternal element present.  All that we do and all that we are have repercussions beyond our present existence.  We know that our final transition will be into a glorious existence beyond what we can currently imagine.  In preparation for this, we can embrace the changes, though we may not always welcome them.  We will have the courage to move through the transitions buoyed by the knowledge that our lives are in the hands of One who enfolds us in His grace, through all the changes. He has promised never to leave us or forsake us.  

 

Word Guild Award 

2011