Celebrate the Harvest!

"Gramma, why do you think I see things and know things I didn't before? Is it because I'm getting older?" One of our littles recently had her sixth birthday and, apparently, has begun to realize middle age is only a breath away. Time to get moving on that retirement plan, I suppose. This young lady is seeing growth in her life. That is exciting to her!

Early in the season, we planted some flower seeds. They were sort of old, so I wasn't sure we'd have any success. We didn't. Crusty egg cartons sat on our deck for weeks. We gave them every opportunity. We watered and made sure the soil was warm. Nothing happened. No growth. Although it seemed we'd done all the right things, the seeds never sprouted into anything. Our vegetable plants were a different story, however. The children love spotting the "ripe ones!" and hang their shoulders in frustration when I tell them, "This one needs to wait a bit." Strangely enough, they don't hold the same excitement for the gravy-making (Yes, we make gravy, not sauce in this house.), or the relish, or the salsa, or the jelly -- whatever we decide to make, they might take it or leave it. But that enthusiasm for growth and harvest never seems to wane. I believe that is intentional. I believe God has placed that desire for growth -- progress in our lives and our relationships -- in each of us for a reason. And I believe the joy of the harvest is something we all long to celebrate.

God's people, Israel, were an agricultural people. Exodus 23:16, talks about the feast of harvest (or the feast of weeks, later called "Pentecost" in the Greek), and the feast of ingathering (aka the Feast of Tabernacles, or Sukkot). Two of three feasts God commanded each year were celebrations of harvest -- God's provision to His people, and their praise for it. The culmination of weeks of anticipation and dedication to the labor, met with gratitude for God's faithfulness to yield what was promised. Their longing for growth fulfilled, God's people were encouraged -- no, commanded, to par-T!

Throughout the Scriptures, we are told to wait on the Lord. Wait, but not become stagnant. Let's go back to those seeds we planted for just a minute. We waited. We didn't abandon watching for those adorable little green shoots after the first few days. We didn't stop watering until we were sure the seeds were too old to produce. We didn't rest in our labor despite my not having much confidence from the outset. We didn't become stagnant in our faith that seeds produce flowers. And though our seeds were not healthy (I could take that a whole new direction, but I'm trying to stick with this analogy 😊), we were growing. Our work did not prove fruitful in quite the way we had expected, but our patience improved; we gained knowledge about just how long Vinca seeds will or will not survive in a brown paper bag in the basement; we learned that one failure is not the end of the world. Had we ceased waiting and working the moment we failed to see results, we would have gained nothing and had no progress to celebrate.

The Bible assures our God is faithful and never changes. What He has promised to supply, He will supply. What He has promised to do, He will do. No dead seeds there. He guarantees a harvest. It may not be quite the crop we expect, but if we are committed to the work and obedient to His plan we will have a harvest to celebrate!

Stop Wasting Your Church's (and Ultimately, God's) Resources

Right now, I think there is someone who needs to hear this. Right now, I think I'm going to offend someone. Right now, I could just be preaching to me. A few weeks back, our pastor preached a sermon entitled, "Endgame." Starting with the premise that God desires to make Himself known, Pastor, through Scripture, led us to the conclusion that we, as Christians, should share the same objective: to make God known to all. Sharing in that mission, as we are privileged, equipped and ordained to do, we should live in a way that brings that goal to fruition. Our endgame should always be to make the name of El Elyon known to all the earth that He might receive the praise of everyone. Our endgame is to live to God's glory! 

During the sermon, a thought came to mind and it has bugged me ever since: Am I wasting my church's resources? Am I sitting in this pew week after week, hearing word after word but not doing much of anything to make the name of the Lord known throughout the earth? 

Life can get a little intense from time to time. Things can get so busy, I feel I am merely putting out fires from one day to the next. Everybody needs something, they need it now, and they need it from me. Instead of feeling blessed, I'm feeling stressed. "Mom, you're gonna have to wait!" "Don't let the dog out again; she just came in!" "No, I didn't get a chance to stop for milk -- I just brushed my teeth at 1:30!" Not exactly the responses that would cause someone to say to me, "Hey! That God you serve is really awesome! Look how He sustains you through all of this. How do I get to do what you do?" But, just how many Sundays have I sat there "amen-ing" and nodding as our pastor spoke about keeping our eyes on Jesus rather than the waves? How many times have I left church feeling refreshed and motivated, ready to love others and speak life, only to find myself dropping Jesus back off in the pew by Sunday evening? I heard every word, but chose emotions over application. I nodded in agreement, but chose self-sufficiency over service and surrender. And, ultimately, I wasted a perfectly good pew.

Now, I know God wants me there, and I am not advocating anyone stop meeting regularly with other believers, but, we have to take the blessings He has given us seriously. Being able to sit in a church every Sunday, hearing the Word of God preached is a blessing, a valuable resource. We are there to be equipped. But if we are not using the resources we have been given to make the name of the Lord known to others, if we are taking up space, but choosing to live the same way when we leave as we lived when we walked in, we are wasting what we have been given. Maybe even wasting a resource someone else is dying to put to good use. If our church is spending its resources applying and reapplying discipline, teaching and reteaching the same things we refuse to accept or apply in our own life, we have to conclude those resouces may one day run out. If our church is spending its resources repeatedly talking to its people about things like stewardship and service, because we refuse to give and serve, what resources will be left for outreach and evangelism -- for those that have not had the privilege of sitting in a pew week after week?

We need to stop being namby-pamby, spoiled, entitled brats of God, listening to the same message over and over, never really wanting to "get it" (maybe preoccupied wishing others would "get it"), whining about the blessings we don't have and think we should. We need to stop being angry; stop getting our feelings hurt; stop debating and infighting; stop focusing on the obstacles; stop serving ourselves. We need to get ourselves fed. Obey. Apply what we hear and keep it moving. There are others who need and want to hear what Jesus has done for them. There are others who want to follow and obey. There are those hungry for change.

If you're over thirty, you've probably heard the words, "Eat you dinner! There are starving children in (insert third world country here) who would love to have what you have." Maybe as adults, we should say those words a little more frequently to one another.

A Little Investment Advice

If you had a million dollars, what would you do with it? Have you ever played the lottery? Where did you get your ideas about money? Are you a saver or a spender? 

I remember sitting for hours at the kitchen table in my parents home, filling out sweepstakes entries. That was Mom's thing. Dad's was racing forms and pyramid schemes. My parents took expensive vacations, and countless calls from bill collectors. Mom carried her swim club and boat club memberships next to our food stamps. My parents were terrible with money. Though they never spoke to us about it, they taught us volumes. By the time I was eighteen, I was working over one hundred hours a week and had tens of thousands in the bank. Money = security. 

I was in my thirties when I really began to notice Jesus drawing me to Him. I went to church and even listened, but when I sat down to try to read the Bible on my own, it either made no sense or made me sleepy. One of the most confusing passages was Jesus' Parable of the Talents. The Reader's Digest version goes like this: A man was going on a trip. Before he left, he gave some of his servants money to steward while he was gone. Two of the servants presented him with profit upon his return. A third, knowing his master was a shrewd business man and fearing a loss, returned exactly the amount the master had given him. "I kept it safe in a hole for you," the servant said. The master was furious and punished the servant.

Between my attitudes about money and lack of spiritual maturity, I could never understand what was so wrong with the third servant's behavior. After all, investments can be risky. What if the first two servants had lost the money? Number Three would have been looking like a rock star, right? It seemed to me, it was the master that should have been punished: he was so greedy. What's wrong with saving? Nothing, but this parable was never meant to be simply dollars and cents. 

I've come to know this parable is about all God gives us to steward: our time, abilities, finances, relationships, careers, food, possessions, health, opportunities -- all of it, whatever it is. None of it belongs to us. We are merely stewards tasked with making the very most of what we hold -- temporarily, loosely -- for God's glory. And though I say this to you now, I am guilty of wasting time. I am guilty of taking relationships for granted. I am guilty of eating just because. I am guilty of hating my job. I am guilty of reacting badly when someone tries to take things from me. Which makes me guilty of thinking these things -- any of them -- belong to me.

The other day, I was praying about one of our current opportunities. Someone who is supposed to be running the job is not exercising due diligence. It could cost us the job. As a subcontractor, we are powerless. The situation immediately threatened my need for security and control, and my mind began to race. Can we hire a lawyer? What recourse do we have? Can we get this person off the project? Fury. Fear. But then, peace. Over and over again as I prayed, the Holy Spirit brought to mind The Parable of the Talents. God gave this to us. To steward. And we have done that. We are working hard, being moral in our actions, speaking life, submitting to authority, and -- most importantly -- representing Christ. The rest is up to the Lord. If the job turns an immediate profit, it belongs to our King. If the job appears to be a total loss on the surface, we can rest assured we served our King well, and He has done something for our good and His glory.

Some of the greatest success stories were written by paupers and prisoners. Some of the greatest victories were won in sickness and slavery. Whatever the situation we are in, it is meant to be invested. Only by risking what was never ours can we know the security of gaining what we can never lose -- the blessing of our Father, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Master."

Where Did Those Prayers Go?

"Hey! How's your mom?" I called out.

"Mom passed June twentieth -- almost a month now," he replied.

"I'm so sorry. I hadn't heard," I apologized.

Awkward, right? I felt so awful. I know, though, that kind of thing happens all the time. It's not like we're best friends. We don't even work the same shift. I wouldn't necessarily have known. I didn't know. But here's the thing I thought was most awkward: I'd just prayed for this man and his mom that morning. And several mornings before. In fact, since the day she'd passed, I had probably prayed for her at least five or six times. Her health had been declining, so she'd been on my prayer list for months. And he, by association, had been as well. He was still very much alive, of course, but for almost a month now, I'd been praying for a dead woman. Where had those prayers been going? They certainly hadn't made it to the "YES" file. And why hadn't God sent some sort of memo that I could stop now?

A few months ago, Scott and I purchased a table from an online yard sale. It was just what we'd been looking for -- and dirt cheap! We pulled up in front of the amazing Victorian with the "For Sale" sign. "Must be a job transfer," I thought. If only. A marriage was over. Pictures of their baby were everywhere. A beautiful, young woman with sad eyes forced the corners of her mouth up a bit as we talked. As I stood in that beautiful old home, knowing the decimating power of divorce, I felt something like a grave robber. Dreams were dashed, laughter extinguished, possibilities ended -- and an hour before we'd been anticipating the wonderful bargain we were getting. I've been praying for her ever since. That she heals. That her child heals. That she is able to provide for herself and her now much smaller family. But I won't know -- at least not on this side of Eternity -- what happens. And not having the answer doesn't mean God didn't grant my request.

I think most people have a basic understanding of prayer. We thank God for our food, we eat, God gives us food for the next day. Lather, rinse, repeat. We ask Him to watch over our families when we are apart; we arrive home, everyone's good, we go on. But what about those prayers that you're praying long after the person has been healed? Or hasn't? What about the prayers we're lead to pray, but we'll never know the outcome? That is the thing about prayer. Yes, it is about our care for others. Yes, it is about standing on the gap for people who don't pray or can't pray or just want someone else in their corner. Yes, it is about seeing God work, and seeing good things come about as a result of prayer. But prayer is the building block of relationship. It is a way we get to know God, and others, and ourselves. My prayers for this man and his mother revealed to God my real desires for others -- especially those who may not know Him -- and ignited my passion for His glory to be known. My prayers for this man and his mother showed me how the Holy Spirit speaks to me as I pray, leading me toward compassion and a deeper love for others. My prayers for this young woman and her situation brought back to me some of the pain and hopelessness that I felt in the days after my divorce, and how God has raised up beauty from ashes! My prayers for this young woman and her situation drew me closer in spirit to her, and enabled me to pray with power for the healing of her child and the revelation of God's purpose for her life.

I may not know all the ins and outs of what is going on with those for whom I pray. I may not even know if they are with us this side of heaven. After all, if prayer was strictly a way of asking for stuff and watching it happen, no one would ever lose their job, or die, or hurt someone else. We could all draft our list up every morning, and get on with our day. Through prayer, though, we come to God fully prepared to be honest, transparent before Him. (And if we're not, He reveals that to us pretty quickly.) We take the arm of Jesus as He walks us into the very presence of God, our Heavenly Father. We bow before Him, giving Him as much of the honor our finite beings can lavish upon Him, He opens His ears to us, and we speak our hearts. Wanting the things that we ask, but wanting Him even more.