One of my favorite things in the world to collect is memories. I firmly believe in investing not only time, but effort in creating something worth remembering. I can get 1000 smiles out of one good memory. In my family we are all very fond of remembering. There was the time my dad played a trick on my Grandpa during a card game, or my Grandma's expression of "by crackey!" that set us all off on a particularly long good laugh. These are the things of our family lore. My husband teases me because I end up telling the same stories over and over again. But that is what we do in my family. We repeat our best times over and over to each other and enjoy them without the joy diminishing with the re-telling. Memories are jewels in the treasure box of life. (How's that for cheesy?) A good memory is something that cannot be stolen, but brings happiness and comfort throughout life.
That is one of the things I love about God! We have this in common. He also is fond of remembering. I looked up the word remember in the Bible Concordance the other day and found numerous references to the word remember. There are many places in the Bible where it talks of God remembering. Many times, this is a signal for a miracle, because it means a blessing or good thing is about to follow. God remembering His promises to His people, or God remembering His covenant with us which thus spares us the consequences of His wrath towards sin. But there are also many times that the word remember is a command given by God. He tells us to remember. Remember what He has done for us, remember what He has promised us, remember the battles He has fought on our behalf, remember, remember, remember. I've been reading in the Old Testament again and came across a passage where God fought a battle for Israel and sent their enemy scattered without them having to step onto the battlefield. Following this one-sided victory Samuel sets a stone in the place where the battle was won as a way of remembering. You see that many times in the Old Testament, particularly with the Patriarchs. They were forever erecting stone altars and piles then renaming the area as a way of marking the place where God showed up. And from then on anytime that place is mentioned in the Bible it is referenced by it's new name and the reminder that God's presence had been there. One of my favorite stories of this is the place where Jacob set up stones to remind him of where he had wrestled all night with an angel of God. Can you imagine? It must have been somewhat like our road signs. Any one passing by would see that stone pillar and would remember the story of Jacob.
After pondering on this, I began to think about my "stone markers." What have I set aside in my memory to mark the places where God has been. How do I remind myself of the times where I have experienced His presence, or where He has acted on my behalf? I believe that God's command to remember must be very important for Him to consistently reiterate it throughout the Bible. Why is it so important to God for us to remember? I believe it is because we are human and seem to have short memories. Something incredible and God-inspired happens to us and at the time we bask in it thinking that we will always remember that moment. But life moves on and we get bogged down in the difficulties and challenges that confront us. And all of a sudden we are grumbling and complaining, perhaps questioning God and wrestling with our faith. Oh, we are so easily distracted and so soon forget. God delivered the Jews out of Egypt with spectacular miracles and undeniable wonders and in the short period of time following they began to complain and doubt. It didn't take long at all and they were whining about trivial things such as food and water and the armies of Egypt. They had just been part of a major miracle and yet lacked the faith in God to meet their daily needs.
I also believe God calls us to remember because it pleases Him. I know how much pleasure I receive when someone recalls something nice that I had done for them. It lets me know that what I did had value and that the person on the receiving end appreciated it. Which in turn makes me more inclined to want to do it again. I can only imagine the pleasure God must get when we recall the good things He has done for us, especially since we are so much more prone to ask for His help then to give gratitude for what He has already done for us. We are so demanding. We treat God like He is our servant or magic genie, here for our pleasure rather than we are his servants here for His pleasure. How sad that must make Him, when all He wants to do is love us and all we want to do is take from Him. Like a spoiled children we are. How it must grieve Him.
I also think that God commands us to remember for the sake of others. When we remember His goodness for us by telling others of what He has done for us, it brings Him glory and gives others hope. I know many times when I have been discouraged, someone will tell me about a time when God did something for them and it immediately bolsters my faith. We all need these reminders. We hear so much negative in our world and so little good. A good memory is like a breath of fresh air.
So again, I asked myself where are my stones? Am I remembering all the times the love of God has impacted my life? Or do I look on those times as my expected due, lacking gratitude for His grace and mercy. Am I spreading God's glory by reminding others of His goodness? Am I truly thankful for His daily miracles? Although I know I can always do a better job of being thankful I would like to answer yes to this question. If I pause and think, I can remember innumerable instances of God's blessings. I look back on the path I have journeyed and it is strewn, covered in the stones of remembrance. He has been incredibly generous and good to me and in so doing has made my life more beautiful. Much like a person taking a quiet stroll along the beach, I am collecting stones, remembrances of His love. I then place these in a particular spot where I met His presence and walk on, leaving altars of His love for others to stumble across
“I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.” Mother Theresa
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
For My Dad
Father's Day is here again! What a great day. I won't bore you with my opinion on the lack of good fathers in today's world and the corresponding problems this lack causes, but I will share with you about a great one. Mine!
Where to start? My dad was my very first hero. I say first like I've had several but that isn't the case. My dad was my model for those I would later in life come to admire and respect. He was my measuring stick for everyone else. I was very blessed to have a dad who was present, involved and interested in my life. Memories of my younger years are peppered with times spent with my dad. What other little girl had a Dad who came to her school to pick her up for a lunch "date"? Who else had a Dad who treated her and talked to her as an individual and not just as his child? I remember nights spent listening to my Dad reading Bible stories before bedtime. Nights when I would sit on his lap and we would sit and enjoy a nice thunderstorm. Who else had a Dad who would rock her to sleep and make up silly songs for her? My Dad worked hard and many times late hours, but he was always at my piano and dance recitals, school plays or field days. I found my identity in those early years in my relationship with my Dad. I held my head high, believing I was capable of anything I chose simply because I was my Daddy's daughter. There was nobody who could make me feel less about myself, because I knew my Dad loved me. I even carried that into my high school years when I chose not to really date, because really, who could measure up to my Dad? And why would I want to date some teenage hormone driven guy, when I had a man at home who valued and respected me? And eventually I learned to transfer that source of identity, that anchor of my value and worth to my Heavenly Father. And like I did when I wrote about my mom recently I would like to share with you some of the things my Dad has taught me.
Work hard, Play hard
My dad was a great example of this. As I mentioned before, my Dad has always worked hard. I remember many times and still to this day he will work late into the night. It wasn't unusual to find him working in his office at 3 or 4 in the morning. When I was younger there were some times when he would pull all nighters at his office and we wouldn't see him for two or three days. But no one knows how to play like my dad. He works hard so that he has time to play. He made time to be present at our events. He would take us out for ice cream occasionally (which is a big deal when you have a mom who believes in eating healthy). Wednesday nights after church were always an exciting time, because many times he would stop at a gas station on the way home and buy us girls an ice cream bar or Clearly Canadian. He coached me and my sisters in our chosen sports. And my dad loved basketball! He tried to interest us all in playing with not much success until my youngest sister got old enough to play. Not only does my dad like to play, but he knows how to be playful. He loves telling jokes and no one laughs louder at his jokes than himself. He loves to tease and play pranks. My dad would sometimes turn on his old records (45's) and we would listen to him enjoy music from another time. He would howl along to "Little Red Riding Hood". My dad loved to tickle! And every now and then he would pretend to be a cat and try to lick our faces. It was so gross, but it made us giggle. One night I woke up at 2AM and noticed a light on in the living room. I walked out to see my Dad playing our Nintendo. He said that it was the only time he got to play since me and my sisters were always on it. He taught me that a good work ethic is important, but it is also important to enjoy life.
Travel
I must have gotten the travel bug from my Dad. He wasn't able to travel when he was young. But when my sisters and I were younger my Dad made it possible for us to see places he never had seen himself. We had "our places" that we would go once or twice a year with my mom's family. But he also took us all over the country. He would carry us out to the van at 3 or 4 in the morning (so he could get several hours on the road before we woke) and we would be off to North Carolina, Missouri or Florida. Of course most of the time we would have to make a stop at a mall wherever we landed, where my Dad would enter with a Newsweek in his back pocket, head for the food court and plant himself for a couple of hours. But we saw things I would read about in my school books. He took us to Canada when he had a business trip. Boston,The Bahamas, London and other parts of England. I saw history come alive at the White Cliffs of Dover, Boston Harbor, the Alamo etc. When I graduated high school my gift from my dad was to pick the family vacation that year, so off to Alaska we went. Travel opened the world to me.
Money
My dad was my first financial advisor. I was given a small allowance growing up (which I was supposed to earn by doing chores). With this money my dad taught me how the basics of finance. I had to budget. If I didn't have the money to buy something I wanted I had to save until I had what I needed. Immediately after receiving my allowance I was taught to pull out 10% for tithe at church and 10% to put into "savings". From this savings I bought Christmas gifts at the end of the year. When I got older my Dad went with me to open my first checking account, teaching me how to use and balance my check book. Later he helped me get a credit card, taught me when and how to use it, so that I could establish good credit. Almost everything I know about money I learned from my Dad. To this day I still only have one personal credit card which is only used for emergencies or if I can pay it off immediately. My dad also taught me the relationship between work and money. You don't work for money, but make money work for you. If you don't have the money you need then figure out how to earn it. Today I think I have a good relationship with money because of what my dad taught me. I choose to work in an environment I enjoy, even though I might make more somewhere else, because I like where I am at. I don't want to work 60-70 hours a week even if I was paid more if I don't have the time to enjoy life.
Responsibility
If I heard it once I was irritated by it a thousand times, "Do not justify yourself." Any and every time I offered an excuse I was met by this response. It was incredibly frustrating. I argued that I wasn't making excuses I was explaining. But there was no fooling my Dad. He forced me to take responsibility instead of passing blame. It was one of those "you'll thank me later" kind of things. But today I am thankful. Because we cannot change what we do not take responsiblity for. And today I know that when I refuse to make excuses and choose to find a solution I know that I am in a small percentage of people in this world who are capable of doing so.
Details Matter
Another thing I heard often from my dad was "show your work." This came out of the times my Dad worked with me on my math skills. Like most kids I would rush through the equation and arrive with an answer. My dad would check over my homework and ask how I came to that conclusion followed by a lecture on how we arrive at an answer is as important as the answer itself. Eventually this extended into other areas such as keeping records, taking notes, and not relying on someone else to take care of details. I can't tell you how many times I've been saved by this advice when I need a copy of a bank or credit statement. Or when I go back to my notes of a discussion over the phone and I have the name of the person I've spoken with to back up my argument. It has also taught me that just because something is small or minor doesn't necessarily make it unimportant.
These are just a few of the things that have made me a better person, because my Dad was there to teach me. But the greatest thing about my Dad is that he was present and active in my life and made sure I knew that I was loved. That set my foundations for life and has made all the difference. I would be a lesser person for sure without him. So thanks, Dad.
Where to start? My dad was my very first hero. I say first like I've had several but that isn't the case. My dad was my model for those I would later in life come to admire and respect. He was my measuring stick for everyone else. I was very blessed to have a dad who was present, involved and interested in my life. Memories of my younger years are peppered with times spent with my dad. What other little girl had a Dad who came to her school to pick her up for a lunch "date"? Who else had a Dad who treated her and talked to her as an individual and not just as his child? I remember nights spent listening to my Dad reading Bible stories before bedtime. Nights when I would sit on his lap and we would sit and enjoy a nice thunderstorm. Who else had a Dad who would rock her to sleep and make up silly songs for her? My Dad worked hard and many times late hours, but he was always at my piano and dance recitals, school plays or field days. I found my identity in those early years in my relationship with my Dad. I held my head high, believing I was capable of anything I chose simply because I was my Daddy's daughter. There was nobody who could make me feel less about myself, because I knew my Dad loved me. I even carried that into my high school years when I chose not to really date, because really, who could measure up to my Dad? And why would I want to date some teenage hormone driven guy, when I had a man at home who valued and respected me? And eventually I learned to transfer that source of identity, that anchor of my value and worth to my Heavenly Father. And like I did when I wrote about my mom recently I would like to share with you some of the things my Dad has taught me.
Work hard, Play hard
My dad was a great example of this. As I mentioned before, my Dad has always worked hard. I remember many times and still to this day he will work late into the night. It wasn't unusual to find him working in his office at 3 or 4 in the morning. When I was younger there were some times when he would pull all nighters at his office and we wouldn't see him for two or three days. But no one knows how to play like my dad. He works hard so that he has time to play. He made time to be present at our events. He would take us out for ice cream occasionally (which is a big deal when you have a mom who believes in eating healthy). Wednesday nights after church were always an exciting time, because many times he would stop at a gas station on the way home and buy us girls an ice cream bar or Clearly Canadian. He coached me and my sisters in our chosen sports. And my dad loved basketball! He tried to interest us all in playing with not much success until my youngest sister got old enough to play. Not only does my dad like to play, but he knows how to be playful. He loves telling jokes and no one laughs louder at his jokes than himself. He loves to tease and play pranks. My dad would sometimes turn on his old records (45's) and we would listen to him enjoy music from another time. He would howl along to "Little Red Riding Hood". My dad loved to tickle! And every now and then he would pretend to be a cat and try to lick our faces. It was so gross, but it made us giggle. One night I woke up at 2AM and noticed a light on in the living room. I walked out to see my Dad playing our Nintendo. He said that it was the only time he got to play since me and my sisters were always on it. He taught me that a good work ethic is important, but it is also important to enjoy life.
Travel
I must have gotten the travel bug from my Dad. He wasn't able to travel when he was young. But when my sisters and I were younger my Dad made it possible for us to see places he never had seen himself. We had "our places" that we would go once or twice a year with my mom's family. But he also took us all over the country. He would carry us out to the van at 3 or 4 in the morning (so he could get several hours on the road before we woke) and we would be off to North Carolina, Missouri or Florida. Of course most of the time we would have to make a stop at a mall wherever we landed, where my Dad would enter with a Newsweek in his back pocket, head for the food court and plant himself for a couple of hours. But we saw things I would read about in my school books. He took us to Canada when he had a business trip. Boston,The Bahamas, London and other parts of England. I saw history come alive at the White Cliffs of Dover, Boston Harbor, the Alamo etc. When I graduated high school my gift from my dad was to pick the family vacation that year, so off to Alaska we went. Travel opened the world to me.
Money
My dad was my first financial advisor. I was given a small allowance growing up (which I was supposed to earn by doing chores). With this money my dad taught me how the basics of finance. I had to budget. If I didn't have the money to buy something I wanted I had to save until I had what I needed. Immediately after receiving my allowance I was taught to pull out 10% for tithe at church and 10% to put into "savings". From this savings I bought Christmas gifts at the end of the year. When I got older my Dad went with me to open my first checking account, teaching me how to use and balance my check book. Later he helped me get a credit card, taught me when and how to use it, so that I could establish good credit. Almost everything I know about money I learned from my Dad. To this day I still only have one personal credit card which is only used for emergencies or if I can pay it off immediately. My dad also taught me the relationship between work and money. You don't work for money, but make money work for you. If you don't have the money you need then figure out how to earn it. Today I think I have a good relationship with money because of what my dad taught me. I choose to work in an environment I enjoy, even though I might make more somewhere else, because I like where I am at. I don't want to work 60-70 hours a week even if I was paid more if I don't have the time to enjoy life.
Responsibility
If I heard it once I was irritated by it a thousand times, "Do not justify yourself." Any and every time I offered an excuse I was met by this response. It was incredibly frustrating. I argued that I wasn't making excuses I was explaining. But there was no fooling my Dad. He forced me to take responsibility instead of passing blame. It was one of those "you'll thank me later" kind of things. But today I am thankful. Because we cannot change what we do not take responsiblity for. And today I know that when I refuse to make excuses and choose to find a solution I know that I am in a small percentage of people in this world who are capable of doing so.
Details Matter
Another thing I heard often from my dad was "show your work." This came out of the times my Dad worked with me on my math skills. Like most kids I would rush through the equation and arrive with an answer. My dad would check over my homework and ask how I came to that conclusion followed by a lecture on how we arrive at an answer is as important as the answer itself. Eventually this extended into other areas such as keeping records, taking notes, and not relying on someone else to take care of details. I can't tell you how many times I've been saved by this advice when I need a copy of a bank or credit statement. Or when I go back to my notes of a discussion over the phone and I have the name of the person I've spoken with to back up my argument. It has also taught me that just because something is small or minor doesn't necessarily make it unimportant.
These are just a few of the things that have made me a better person, because my Dad was there to teach me. But the greatest thing about my Dad is that he was present and active in my life and made sure I knew that I was loved. That set my foundations for life and has made all the difference. I would be a lesser person for sure without him. So thanks, Dad.
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Mystery
I'm one of those people that cheats and reads the back of the book first. I enjoy movies more after having seen them once, because then I know how they are going to end. In fact if someone has already seen the movie I will ask them to tell me how it ends. I like knowing how something is going to turn out. I like to plan. Although I can enjoy a surprise it also disconcerts me. I like knowing the answers, especially the right answers.
But some part of me is changing. I know longer mind so much not having the answers, because that means that I can explore ideas. It means that there is room to consider many options. I no longer mind being challenged by others whose opinions are different from mine. In fact, I find it exhilirating, not because I want to argue or debate, but because I like to challenge my own beliefs to determine how true and fundamental they really are. It is thrilling to be set free from a belief that I can no longer sustain because it was solely based on tradition and not truth. It is just as thrilling to learn that a particular belief is even further enforced in me because I find it true.
Lately I've been pondering God and His mysteries. People like to ask the why questions about God. Why does He allow pain and suffering? Why does He not intervene when we think He should? Why did He put me here/in a particular environment or circumstance etc. I'm sure we all have many why questions. This used to both bother and threaten me when there was no obvious and easy answer. The lack of an answer suggesting that perhaps God didn't care or maybe I just couldn't hear His answer which meant that there must be something wrong with me. But lately I have "let go." I have abandoned the idea that everything must have a reason or a logic we can relate to. I have discarded the idea that just because God doesn't answer the why questions means that there must not be an answer. I have begun to embrace the idea that maybe He doesn't answer all the why's because He prefers a little bit of mystery. Much like an early dating relationship, perhaps He prefers not to share everything about Himself because He is waiting to see how much we really want to know Him personally. Are we in for the long haul, or are we playing games? Perhaps God likes to be pursued. Perhaps we find the challenge of pursuing answers and at the same time pursuing Him keeps us interested and the relationship exciting? Would we be bored if God gave us all the answers up front? Would we lose interest in the chase if we knew how it all ended?
The Bible talks of God's mysteries. I always skipped over those verses because I didn't understand or relate to them and that frustrated me. But now I'm finding that those mysteries are exciting. People are drawn into a story with mystery. They commit to a story with mystery because they want to know how it ends. No one likes to leave something unanswered. God leaving some things a mystery even when He knows the answer is a little like leading a donkey with a carrot. (We are the donkey of course : )
I am learning to love it! I am seeing God's mysteriousness as a grand adventure. A treasure hunt. Here's a little clue, what does it mean? Lightbulb moment! Then rushing on to the next clue, not knowing where it will lead. Who really wants to know the story of their life beforehand anyway. Life isn't really all that interesting if we already know how our life will play out. But God makes it an adventure. And the mystery and adventure makes the growing we go through more fun. Plus, who needs faith if we know the answer to the whys?
But some part of me is changing. I know longer mind so much not having the answers, because that means that I can explore ideas. It means that there is room to consider many options. I no longer mind being challenged by others whose opinions are different from mine. In fact, I find it exhilirating, not because I want to argue or debate, but because I like to challenge my own beliefs to determine how true and fundamental they really are. It is thrilling to be set free from a belief that I can no longer sustain because it was solely based on tradition and not truth. It is just as thrilling to learn that a particular belief is even further enforced in me because I find it true.
Lately I've been pondering God and His mysteries. People like to ask the why questions about God. Why does He allow pain and suffering? Why does He not intervene when we think He should? Why did He put me here/in a particular environment or circumstance etc. I'm sure we all have many why questions. This used to both bother and threaten me when there was no obvious and easy answer. The lack of an answer suggesting that perhaps God didn't care or maybe I just couldn't hear His answer which meant that there must be something wrong with me. But lately I have "let go." I have abandoned the idea that everything must have a reason or a logic we can relate to. I have discarded the idea that just because God doesn't answer the why questions means that there must not be an answer. I have begun to embrace the idea that maybe He doesn't answer all the why's because He prefers a little bit of mystery. Much like an early dating relationship, perhaps He prefers not to share everything about Himself because He is waiting to see how much we really want to know Him personally. Are we in for the long haul, or are we playing games? Perhaps God likes to be pursued. Perhaps we find the challenge of pursuing answers and at the same time pursuing Him keeps us interested and the relationship exciting? Would we be bored if God gave us all the answers up front? Would we lose interest in the chase if we knew how it all ended?
The Bible talks of God's mysteries. I always skipped over those verses because I didn't understand or relate to them and that frustrated me. But now I'm finding that those mysteries are exciting. People are drawn into a story with mystery. They commit to a story with mystery because they want to know how it ends. No one likes to leave something unanswered. God leaving some things a mystery even when He knows the answer is a little like leading a donkey with a carrot. (We are the donkey of course : )
I am learning to love it! I am seeing God's mysteriousness as a grand adventure. A treasure hunt. Here's a little clue, what does it mean? Lightbulb moment! Then rushing on to the next clue, not knowing where it will lead. Who really wants to know the story of their life beforehand anyway. Life isn't really all that interesting if we already know how our life will play out. But God makes it an adventure. And the mystery and adventure makes the growing we go through more fun. Plus, who needs faith if we know the answer to the whys?
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