Conflict resolution.
It's an art form, I've heard. And I'm no artist.
Still, we ask God's guidance, for wisdom in dealing with conflict in our lives; and the strength and courage to do what we know is right.
I personally wish conflict would just go away, you know, work itself out. That's not how it usually goes.
Is it true that something is lost for everything gained?
I pray that relationships broken in the course of making hard decisions might be restored.
After all, God DID answer my prayer that this conflict would be resolved.
But it wasn't what I had planned.
He allowed me to fumble and bungle and generally make a mess.
That's how He works much of the time.
Knowing that does not make it any less painful.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Who's the Boss?
My eldest daughter pointed out, some time back, that out of least one of my broken relationships, something good resulted. Three somethings I replied, referring to her and her sisters.
As I considered that, it seemed that I was still wide of the mark; out of my sin and selfishness, God brought something good.
A clan has grown from the relationships of these three sisters. A clan in the good sense of the word. These three ladies have come together with their families to form an extended network of mutual love and support.
That's something.
Which brings us right back to God. And Romans 8: 28-29.
So I fumble and stumble through this life. I used to want to handle life by myself ("My Life"). I've learned (which is Something, for me) the fallacy of that notion.
So to my oldest three: I thank God for you and the women you've become. I failed but He did not. He never will. Lean on Him.
To my youngest: I thank God for you. Try to understand that He has has much better things in store than anything we could ask or imagine.
And He's still in charge.
As I considered that, it seemed that I was still wide of the mark; out of my sin and selfishness, God brought something good.
A clan has grown from the relationships of these three sisters. A clan in the good sense of the word. These three ladies have come together with their families to form an extended network of mutual love and support.
That's something.
Which brings us right back to God. And Romans 8: 28-29.
So I fumble and stumble through this life. I used to want to handle life by myself ("My Life"). I've learned (which is Something, for me) the fallacy of that notion.
So to my oldest three: I thank God for you and the women you've become. I failed but He did not. He never will. Lean on Him.
To my youngest: I thank God for you. Try to understand that He has has much better things in store than anything we could ask or imagine.
And He's still in charge.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Revenge, Grace and the Pharisee
A friend recently mentioned an incident that occurred in one of his college classes: he was stating his views against abortion when one of his classmates expressed strong opposition to his viewpoint in an insulting and condescending manner.
My response was to ask if he had prayed; for her and for himself.
Having struggled with a bad temper and a quick lip for many years, I have attempted (with varying degrees of success) to follow this formula: pray for the offender (for God's grace and forgiveness), then pray for myself.
If I am honest, I find myself constantly in need of forgiveness.
You see, I have tended to speak quickly and without regard to any possible offensiveness in my conversation (a shock, no doubt to those of you who know me).
I've noticed this: there's a Pharisee inside, waiting to come out and be arrogant and condemning. I hate him and I'm trying to kill him.
Pray for the guy with the Pharisee.
Pray for God's grace.
My response was to ask if he had prayed; for her and for himself.
Having struggled with a bad temper and a quick lip for many years, I have attempted (with varying degrees of success) to follow this formula: pray for the offender (for God's grace and forgiveness), then pray for myself.
If I am honest, I find myself constantly in need of forgiveness.
You see, I have tended to speak quickly and without regard to any possible offensiveness in my conversation (a shock, no doubt to those of you who know me).
I've noticed this: there's a Pharisee inside, waiting to come out and be arrogant and condemning. I hate him and I'm trying to kill him.
Pray for the guy with the Pharisee.
Pray for God's grace.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
With the Kisses of His Mouth
In early autumn, The Three approached Ziklag from the south, after a raid into the Negev against the Geshurites. As they filed through the city gate, Eleazar saw Naarah, standing there, waiting. Slapping Shammah’s shoulder, he fell out of the column and walked toward the young woman, drinking her in with his eyes. He was certain there was no more beautiful woman in all Israel.
“I see God has spared you to fight another day,” she spoke, the faintest of smiles at the corners of her lips.
“Only to be slain by the sight of your beauty,” Eleazar replied, as they walked together. Naarah ducked her head to hide the flush that colored her cheeks. It was the first time, since he had known her, that she had been even momentarily at a loss for words.
“Come now, where is your tongue?” he teased her. “Where are the jesting words that always spring from your lips whenever we meet?”
“Merely a moment of mourning for the slain warrior, laid low by what he mistakes for beauty. You have stayed too long in the desert sun”
“Truly, no flower of the desert is as lovely as you, and even the sun could not dazzle my eyes as much as the vision of you today, standing at the city gate.”
At these words, Naarah blushed again and suppressed a giggle. They walked on, in silence. Eleazar struggled for the words to say, but it was Naarah who finally spoke.
“Ethan and I would like for you to come and dine with us this evening. It is his birthday.” She stopped and turned to face him. Though she stood only a few inches shorter than Eleazar, he felt like a block of raw granite beside a gazelle, when standing close to her. It was all he could do to keep from sweeping her up in his arms and crushing her to himself. He forced these thoughts from his mind and tried to concentrate on what she was saying.
“And how old is my young warrior today?”
“He is seven. I must warn you, if you haven’t noticed, that my son is growing quite attached to you.”
“And I to him.” Eleazar hesitated for a moment, then plunged ahead. “I must also warn you, in case you haven’t noticed, that I am becoming even more attached to Ethan’s mother.” Naarah pondered his words in silence, her eyes downcast. When she spoke at last, she gazed up at him.
“I have noticed, and I am glad that you are becoming a part of our lives.”
“I would be happy to dine with you and your son.”
That evening, after they had eaten, Rahel excused herself on some pretext or other and talked Ethan into going with her. There was a brief, uncomfortable silence between Eleazar and his hostess. Although they had been acquainted for nearly six months, this was the first time they had been alone together. At a momentary loss for words, Eleazar opened with the time-honored military strategy of the indirect approach.
“We will be leaving Ziklag soon,” he said.
“Oh?” Naarah feigned surprise though she too had heard the rumours that David might be moving his force back to Judah.
“Yes, the elders of the tribe of Judah have sent delegations to David. Word is they will ask him to be king in Judah.”
“They are his kinsmen, after all.” Unable to make small talk any longer, Eleazar spoke what had long been on his heart.
“Naarah, I want you and Ethan to go with me. Wherever it is David leads us.” She seemed truly surprised at his words.
“Eleazar, are you asking me to be a soldier’s wife?”
“I am, but I do not ask for your decision at once. You are aware, I know, of the sorrow and separation that the wife of one who carries the sword must endure.” He looked intently at this beautiful woman. Her raven hair fell about her face as she studied the ground between them. For a heart-stopping moment he knew what her answer must be. Then she raised her eyes to gaze into his, a tender gaze which lingered as she spoke.
“I only feared that it might be too soon for you. After your terrible loss.” She reached her hand out to touch his tanned, bearded cheek. “Yes, Eleazar. Yes, I will be a soldier’s wife. I will wait for you when you are away, and pray every night for your safe return and that you might prevail over Israel’s enemies.”
Eleazar then did what he had wanted to do ever since the first time he saw her: he held her to him and kissed her, tasting her lips for the first time, not wanting to ever let go.
“I see God has spared you to fight another day,” she spoke, the faintest of smiles at the corners of her lips.
“Only to be slain by the sight of your beauty,” Eleazar replied, as they walked together. Naarah ducked her head to hide the flush that colored her cheeks. It was the first time, since he had known her, that she had been even momentarily at a loss for words.
“Come now, where is your tongue?” he teased her. “Where are the jesting words that always spring from your lips whenever we meet?”
“Merely a moment of mourning for the slain warrior, laid low by what he mistakes for beauty. You have stayed too long in the desert sun”
“Truly, no flower of the desert is as lovely as you, and even the sun could not dazzle my eyes as much as the vision of you today, standing at the city gate.”
At these words, Naarah blushed again and suppressed a giggle. They walked on, in silence. Eleazar struggled for the words to say, but it was Naarah who finally spoke.
“Ethan and I would like for you to come and dine with us this evening. It is his birthday.” She stopped and turned to face him. Though she stood only a few inches shorter than Eleazar, he felt like a block of raw granite beside a gazelle, when standing close to her. It was all he could do to keep from sweeping her up in his arms and crushing her to himself. He forced these thoughts from his mind and tried to concentrate on what she was saying.
“And how old is my young warrior today?”
“He is seven. I must warn you, if you haven’t noticed, that my son is growing quite attached to you.”
“And I to him.” Eleazar hesitated for a moment, then plunged ahead. “I must also warn you, in case you haven’t noticed, that I am becoming even more attached to Ethan’s mother.” Naarah pondered his words in silence, her eyes downcast. When she spoke at last, she gazed up at him.
“I have noticed, and I am glad that you are becoming a part of our lives.”
“I would be happy to dine with you and your son.”
That evening, after they had eaten, Rahel excused herself on some pretext or other and talked Ethan into going with her. There was a brief, uncomfortable silence between Eleazar and his hostess. Although they had been acquainted for nearly six months, this was the first time they had been alone together. At a momentary loss for words, Eleazar opened with the time-honored military strategy of the indirect approach.
“We will be leaving Ziklag soon,” he said.
“Oh?” Naarah feigned surprise though she too had heard the rumours that David might be moving his force back to Judah.
“Yes, the elders of the tribe of Judah have sent delegations to David. Word is they will ask him to be king in Judah.”
“They are his kinsmen, after all.” Unable to make small talk any longer, Eleazar spoke what had long been on his heart.
“Naarah, I want you and Ethan to go with me. Wherever it is David leads us.” She seemed truly surprised at his words.
“Eleazar, are you asking me to be a soldier’s wife?”
“I am, but I do not ask for your decision at once. You are aware, I know, of the sorrow and separation that the wife of one who carries the sword must endure.” He looked intently at this beautiful woman. Her raven hair fell about her face as she studied the ground between them. For a heart-stopping moment he knew what her answer must be. Then she raised her eyes to gaze into his, a tender gaze which lingered as she spoke.
“I only feared that it might be too soon for you. After your terrible loss.” She reached her hand out to touch his tanned, bearded cheek. “Yes, Eleazar. Yes, I will be a soldier’s wife. I will wait for you when you are away, and pray every night for your safe return and that you might prevail over Israel’s enemies.”
Eleazar then did what he had wanted to do ever since the first time he saw her: he held her to him and kissed her, tasting her lips for the first time, not wanting to ever let go.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Woman Needs Man and a Man Must Have His Mate.
That, no one can deny.
People plan vacations.
People plan birthday parties.
People plan weddings.
People even plan cookouts in their back yard.
So how come nobody I know has ever planned a relationship?
They just happen, right?
I'm talking male-female here. The old fatal attraction, you know? So how do these things get started? What is the attraction, really?
What I mean is: What makes you so sure you are in (dare I say it?) love? You hardly know the person.
Could it be (more times than I care to admit) that it's because she was attracted to me? How on earth could I resist someone with such impeccable taste?
Honestly, it seems like such a big ole crap shoot. There's this huge divide between male and female outlooks and it's going to take nothing less than a miracle for us to stand one another after the novelty of the situation wears off.
Gotta be some kind of higher power at work here.
Hmmm.
(more to come?)
People plan vacations.
People plan birthday parties.
People plan weddings.
People even plan cookouts in their back yard.
So how come nobody I know has ever planned a relationship?
They just happen, right?
I'm talking male-female here. The old fatal attraction, you know? So how do these things get started? What is the attraction, really?
What I mean is: What makes you so sure you are in (dare I say it?) love? You hardly know the person.
Could it be (more times than I care to admit) that it's because she was attracted to me? How on earth could I resist someone with such impeccable taste?
Honestly, it seems like such a big ole crap shoot. There's this huge divide between male and female outlooks and it's going to take nothing less than a miracle for us to stand one another after the novelty of the situation wears off.
Gotta be some kind of higher power at work here.
Hmmm.
(more to come?)
You Must Remember This
Me and Joycie have been me and Joycie for twenty-seven years now.
I have to really concentrate to recall a time when we were not us.
And that time, once recalled, seems nothing but a long, depressing series of broken relationships. But that's unfair, isn't it? After all there must have been something there or there wouldn't have been these relationships.
Yet those failed where this one endured.
How is that?
I could say that I'm a better person now.
Hmmm.
Nah, that wouldn't be totally honest.
We do sometimes tease each other, saying: "Well, you know I'm a much better person than old so-snd-so you used to hang out with."
But setting all kidding aside (if only for a moment), it seems to have something to do with that old cliche about chemistry: some things you mix together and get an explosion, broken glass and disaster all around; other times it's like mixing chocolate syrup and milk and you get a new thing that's much more delightful and sweet than mere chocolate syrup and milk all by themselves.
In case you haven't guessed, I'm the chocolate syrup: dark, rich and exciting.
(to be continued)
I have to really concentrate to recall a time when we were not us.
And that time, once recalled, seems nothing but a long, depressing series of broken relationships. But that's unfair, isn't it? After all there must have been something there or there wouldn't have been these relationships.
Yet those failed where this one endured.
How is that?
I could say that I'm a better person now.
Hmmm.
Nah, that wouldn't be totally honest.
We do sometimes tease each other, saying: "Well, you know I'm a much better person than old so-snd-so you used to hang out with."
But setting all kidding aside (if only for a moment), it seems to have something to do with that old cliche about chemistry: some things you mix together and get an explosion, broken glass and disaster all around; other times it's like mixing chocolate syrup and milk and you get a new thing that's much more delightful and sweet than mere chocolate syrup and milk all by themselves.
In case you haven't guessed, I'm the chocolate syrup: dark, rich and exciting.
(to be continued)
Monday, May 23, 2011
From Everlasting to Everlasting
On the tenth day of Tishri, much ,if not all, of Israel gathered at Ramah. A host of people representing each of the twelve tribes was present, each man, woman and child having fasted since sunset of the previous day. Ramah sat upon a low flat hill in the central highlands and the plateau around the town was sprinkled with the colors of a multitude of tents. At the outer edge of the village stood the Tabernacle of the LORD, prominent with its covering of red-dyed skins.
Samuel stepped to the altar clad in a simple linen garment. An awed hush fell upon the crowd. The sacrificial bull had been offered up to cleanse the priests and now a goat was brought forward. Eleazar stood in the congregation among the clan of Barak, his adopted family. Next to him stood a young cousin of Shammah, one of the hero-worshipping boys of the village. The boy, only eight, had never seen this ritual performed.
“What does he do now?” asked the youngster.
Eleazar took a knee beside him and spoke into his ear.
“The priest offers the sacrifice for the sins of the people.”
“But why must he kill the goat?”
“Because God knows that we are fallen creatures and unable to do all that he requires of us. The sacrifice is a symbol whereby the sentence of death passed upon Adam and Eve and all their descendants is carried out and our relationship with a Holy God is restored.”
“But how can this make God love us?”
Eleazar smiled. He himself had been a mere lad of ten the last time this rite had been performed before Israel. He remembered that day and his father speaking to him in explanation, much as he spoke to this youngster beside him.
“We demonstrate our love for God in our obedience to His commands, of which this sacrifice is one. By observing this rite, we express our love and our willingness to heed God’s word, though we often fail. Do you understand?”
“I know that I sometimes disobey my mother.”
“But you love her very much, do you not?”
“Yes, I am sad when I displease her.”
“Does she cast you out of your home when you displease her?” Eleazar asked with a smile. The youngster’s eyes widened with an expression of shock.
“No! She loves me.”
“Exactly so. And you love her very much and seek with all your heart to obey her?”
“Yes.”
“So we also attempt to please God in all that we do and honor the covenant He made with our forefathers.”
“I know. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”
“You are right.” A hush fell across the vast gathering as Samuel entered into the Tent of Meeting. In the very back of the tabernacle was the Most Holy Place containing the Ark of the Covenant. There Samuel would sprinkle the blood from the sacrifices to atone for the sin of the nation.
His task accomplished, Samuel emerged from the tent and placed his hands upon the head of the scapegoat which was presented to him before the congregation of Israel. His voice rang out.
“Hear me, O Mighty God of our fathers. We have sinned in your sight. Yet, in Your mercy, You have provided the necessary means of atonement through the blood of these sacrifices. May the sin of your people Israel be laid upon this animal and driven far from us that we might be restored to your fellowship.”
The handler led the scapegoat outside Ramah to be driven into the hills west of the town. The sins of Israel would thus be removed far from them, and from God’s sight.
Samuel stepped to the altar clad in a simple linen garment. An awed hush fell upon the crowd. The sacrificial bull had been offered up to cleanse the priests and now a goat was brought forward. Eleazar stood in the congregation among the clan of Barak, his adopted family. Next to him stood a young cousin of Shammah, one of the hero-worshipping boys of the village. The boy, only eight, had never seen this ritual performed.
“What does he do now?” asked the youngster.
Eleazar took a knee beside him and spoke into his ear.
“The priest offers the sacrifice for the sins of the people.”
“But why must he kill the goat?”
“Because God knows that we are fallen creatures and unable to do all that he requires of us. The sacrifice is a symbol whereby the sentence of death passed upon Adam and Eve and all their descendants is carried out and our relationship with a Holy God is restored.”
“But how can this make God love us?”
Eleazar smiled. He himself had been a mere lad of ten the last time this rite had been performed before Israel. He remembered that day and his father speaking to him in explanation, much as he spoke to this youngster beside him.
“We demonstrate our love for God in our obedience to His commands, of which this sacrifice is one. By observing this rite, we express our love and our willingness to heed God’s word, though we often fail. Do you understand?”
“I know that I sometimes disobey my mother.”
“But you love her very much, do you not?”
“Yes, I am sad when I displease her.”
“Does she cast you out of your home when you displease her?” Eleazar asked with a smile. The youngster’s eyes widened with an expression of shock.
“No! She loves me.”
“Exactly so. And you love her very much and seek with all your heart to obey her?”
“Yes.”
“So we also attempt to please God in all that we do and honor the covenant He made with our forefathers.”
“I know. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”
“You are right.” A hush fell across the vast gathering as Samuel entered into the Tent of Meeting. In the very back of the tabernacle was the Most Holy Place containing the Ark of the Covenant. There Samuel would sprinkle the blood from the sacrifices to atone for the sin of the nation.
His task accomplished, Samuel emerged from the tent and placed his hands upon the head of the scapegoat which was presented to him before the congregation of Israel. His voice rang out.
“Hear me, O Mighty God of our fathers. We have sinned in your sight. Yet, in Your mercy, You have provided the necessary means of atonement through the blood of these sacrifices. May the sin of your people Israel be laid upon this animal and driven far from us that we might be restored to your fellowship.”
The handler led the scapegoat outside Ramah to be driven into the hills west of the town. The sins of Israel would thus be removed far from them, and from God’s sight.
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