What's It Worth?

My grandmother wore a black onyx ring for years. She was determined that I was to have it when she passed. She repeated that promise over and over to anyone who would listen. Years later I got that ring, but my constant wearing of it, under any and all circumstances, took its toll. The ring needed repair. I took it to one of those chain jewelry stores. "It would cost more to fix than the ring is worth," said the man who greeted me before I'd gotten more than ten feet past the door. I said nothing, turned and left. Material value aside, that ring meant something to me because it meant so much to my grandmother that I have it. It had never occurred to him someone might be willing to pay more than the ring is worth to have it repaired; it had never, apparently, occurred to him the ring might have a value much greater than the worth of its parts.

My old truck (aka The Pig Mobile) was the same to me -- "sentimental value," I guess you could call it. We have invested more in our home than we will probably ever see if we sell; and our customization of it might actually detract from out bottom line. Emotions never make good financial advisers.

About two thousand years ago, what might appear to be the champion of bad investments was made. The God of the universe sent His only Son to earth. That same Son yielded Himself to His Father's plan as well as to the hateful, self-serving machinations of humanity. A kind and loving Teacher who, because of His great love, called people to a higher plane, called people to love even their enemies and be servants of all. A generous and engaging Laborer who challenged the spiritual elite and embraced beggars and thieves. A Lamb who relinquished His role as Lion; a Servant who relinquished His entitlement as King to give humanity what they needed most -- Life. His life.

He laid down all He had for those who despised and rejected Him. He gave the ultimate sacrifice for those who would not give Him a decent cup of water or an ounce of respect. His desire was for souls. Souls to spare, souls to bless, souls to make new, souls to do the same -- to lay down their lives -- to bring more souls. A terrible investment, no doubt. But that did not stop God.

It is His deep love for each of us that explains such a lavish and nonsensical redemption. It is the eternal value so extravagant He imposes on those in peril. It is a grace so amazing, so unfathomable that is His very character. It is the price only a BIG God can withstand and only a magnanimous God would pay. It is the precious worth He gives to all -- to me, to you.

A Foundation for Tomorrow

We spent the better part of the day saying "goodbye" to my cousin. She wasn't a direct cousin, I guess, but one of those second or thirds, or once removed things that I never seem to care enough about to figure out. She felt like family, and that's all that mattered. She liked the Phillies. The season can come and go without my once asking, "How the Phils looking this year?" She loved the beach. I like the beach when it's about sixty degrees and there's not a soul in sight. She liked butterflies. I appreciate them, but I'm no fan. We were different, but that never mattered to us. We were family.

Just days later, I was sitting across the table and laughing with a man I'd never met. His smile, though, was unforgettable -- the smile of a boy I knew in elementary school. Forty (or more) years had changed us, but it had not changed our relationship. Our lives had taken different paths, and the things that motivated us and brought us joy in our childhood are not the things that inspire and thrill us today. But there, in that diner, I found a piece of my past. He said things like "Robinhood's barn," and recalled the black mats under the "monkey bars." Still, there was so much I wish I remembered -- we share a past upon which we built our presents.

And here I sit today, thinking about all of the crazy events, special people and everyday-type days that have brought me here. Some people came into my life as quickly as they went out. Some people seemed to linger too long. Some moments energized and emboldened me. Some seemed to suck the life right out of me. Some days came and went without so much as a whimper. Others rolled in like a summer storm and roared out like a lion enraged.

The afternoon we returned from my cousin's funeral, Scott was pushing people down the road and driving like the second place competitor on the last lap. I fumed.

"But they get in this lane and they do stupid stuff and they go slow--"

"WHO CARES?!!" I yelped.

"Huh?"

"WHO CARES?! It's a beautiful afternoon. We rarely spend time together. Our life is whizzing past us faster than I care to notice. WHY must we be in such a hurry?!"

One day today, this day, will be "yesterday." And then it will be "the past." And I might be glad to see it go, or I might be sorry I hadn't spent more time with the people I love. I might wish I could remember more.

I might just wish I'd taken my time and paid a little more attention to the foundation for my tomorrows.

An Extreme Case of Love

I remember the first time one of my children threw up -- I mean, reeeaallly threw up. Now, I will clean fish, dig for worms, dress a wound, change the worst diaper known to man, but that? Whoa! So, I called my mom for moral support, opened a dining room window, and hung my head out after each pass at the mess just so I could finish without becoming sick myself. I was determined to care for my child.

Mother Teresa, in an interview once said, "I wouldn't touch a leper for a thousand pounds. Yet I willingly care for him for the love of God." Mother Teresa was determined to be a light to those in a very dark world.

Sometimes being what we are called to be is messy, or unpopular, or difficult, or inconvenient, or just downright unsanitary! But love has a way of moving us toward things we thought we'd never do, or thought we couldn't do. 1 John 4:18 says, "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear..." If I'd been so driven by my discomfort and repulsion, if I'd neglected to care for my sick, helpless child, what kind of care giver would I be? If I allowed myself a pass on the hard things of motherhood, what would my involvement with my children eventually come to look like? How would my children try new and difficult things if I didn't set the example? How would they grow and thrive if their "unattractive qualities" were cause for rejection? My love for my child outweighed any consequence to me.

And Mother Teresa -- it was her love for God that drove her to do the unthinkable. 1 Corinthians 5:14 says, "The love of Christ compels us..." If Mother Teresa had refused to show love in a selfless, exceptional way, how could she then turn around and tell others of the selfless, exceptional love of Jesus? Would people have seen her -- a woman like any other, or would people have seen God's love flowing freely from her?

Imagine the beggars, the demon possessed, the prisoners, the prostitutes Jesus encountered. Were they freshly showered? Did they have clean clothes for the day? Think about it. What did these people look like? What did these people smell like? Do you think any of them might have had lice or fleas? Were their beards tangled, their hair matted with dust and twigs? And what was Jesus' response? Philippians 2:7-8 says, "[Jesus] made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross." If it had been the Father's will, Jesus might have considered "leper hugging" or "smallpox snuggling" the easy way out. Instead, He welcomed the sickest of the sick and lowest of the low, and went to the cross! Jesus relinquished His comfort, His will, His glory, His very identity to love on people who were what some might call "gross." But, to Jesus, there is nothing more gross than the sin that separates us from God, and He went to extreme lengths to love people into relationship with God.

To what lengths will you go to show them what He did?

Explore Humanity!

My father was a blood donor for many years. I remember him coming home with pins for his many gallons of whole blood donations. Maybe that inspired me, but I have been a blood donor since I was first eligible. Last year I set a personal goal of six donations and reached it. Just this past Saturday, I gave my first platelet donation. Before you think I am simply dusting off my trophy for altruism, please know I have a confession: As much as I like knowing I can do a good thing for someone, as important as it is to help others, I do it because I like the exploration.

I know, I know, there are other ways to explore without actually giving away a baggie full of blood or spending a couple of hours having blood withdrawn and replaced; but if I did things the easy way, I wouldn't be me. Truth is, when I schedule my donations, I try to go places I've never been before. There are so many local icons I've never seen from better than a roadside vantage, this gives me an opportunity to check them out. Before the local soccer stadium opened, I attended a blood drive, got team gear and a tour of the place. I've gotten signed memorabilia from drives at other local stadiums and tickets to events. I've been to churches, businesses, schools, VFWs, nursing homes, hospitals, and government buildings.

I get it, this may not seem so great to you, but in visiting these places, I've become familiar with the places people work and worship and spend their free time. When I meet someone who says they work at such-and-such community center, we immediately have something in common. And having something in common can make people want to share their stories. And stories are my life's blood (no pun intended).

Even the blood drives themselves are ways of hearing people's stories. The "canteen," a little refreshment area at the end of every donation point is a great place to listen to folks -- people love to talk over a meal, even if it is a bag of Sun Chips and a canned orange juice. The stories people tell are glimpses into who they are and where they've come from; and they're precious! It may even be a bit ironic that people who've just spent an hour or more giving something so valuable to others would sit at a folding table sharing more of themselves with yet another person. Then again, that may be the tie that binds -- they figure only a giver could understand the intrinsic worth of a piece of another giver.

If you are a believer, I encourage you to place yourself in positions of opportunity. Explore the local territory; explore the locals. Make humanity your business. Jesus did.

Someone Needs to Know About Sin

"You probably have a bit of arthritis in there," my doctor said. He was referring to, and maybe even discounting some of the pain I was feeling in my hips fifteen or so years ago. The short story is hip dysplasia that caused the arthritis along with spinal stenosis caused by arthritis. And around and around we go! The thing I find most interesting is, Doc tells me it's all hereditary. That led me to ask a question: When was someone going to tell me this was a problem? When I shared my concerns with my husband, he gave me the shoulder shrug. Not as in he didn't care, but as in "who can say?" Naturally, I got to thinking.

Heredity. We all inherit something, good or bad, from our parents. Regarding the "bigger picture," we all inherited traits from our original parents, Adam and Eve. (If you have the slightest notion we evolved from primates, now would be the time to go for a banana or do some pooh throwing.) Adam and Eve were created sinless -- not perfect, for they still could fail, and were still limited by their humanity, but they were without sin. When God gave them limitations in order to preserve them, they disobeyed -- sin. Sin effects us in three ways:

1. We are responsible for our personal sins. As an adult, I have experienced the consequences of sin; I have learned things I should or should not do in order to be sinless. I do, however, have moments in which I disregard those lessons and consequences to sin -- snarl at Scott, "white lies", redefine the speed limit... 

2. Adam, as representative of mankind, sinned -- like the student who leaves her chewing gum stuck to the bottom of the desk, and triggers the rule that no one may chew gum in class. We are all subject to the penalty of sin because our agent, our patriarch blew it. (Don't get so excited, each of us was given the opportunity to change that. I know how I responded -- see #1) 

3. Biologically. We are hardwired to sin. Studies have shown processed foods and sugar "feeds" cancer, activating faulty cells in our bodies that develop into cancer. Adam and Eve were the first confirmed study proving "you are what you eat." They fed on the full knowledge of evil, as well as good, and it activated the cancer of sin that is inherent to us all. No one taught them to hide from their Father; they were hardwired to conceal their wrongdoing and separate themselves from Truth. Now, this is not a "resistance is futile" sort of situation; just as I can choose a better diet to limit my chances of getting cancer, we can choose to submit to God, resist the devil and he will flee. 

Jesus is the way to overcome our biological, collective, and personal problem with sin. He became sin for us, He was condemned for us, He takes our sin and redeems it for righteousness, and He stands as our last Representative for all eternity.

So, back to the original question: When was someone going to tell me this was a problem? Someone did, praise God. Who will you tell today?