about a pilrim's progress. . .

The other evening John and I situated our little laptop on a sturdy chair in the bedroom and inserted the Pilgrim's Progress DVD- whether viewing the old or new version or reading the classic, it's always a worthy pursuit. It's about every pilgrim's progress-it's about me. . .
So, I'm watching. . . then Christian and Hopeful lumber over that fence, off the rocky path, into pastures of ease, into the land of Giant Despair-in my mind I'm yelling, What are you doing? don't you know that's danger? foolish! Get back on the path. . .(curious how from a distance one can easily discern another's wanderings.)
And me? I confess to wandering- both blindly and deliberately off the path, the path so clearly marked for me by the King. . .
"But I say, walk by the Spirit and you will not carry out the deeds of the flesh." Galatians 5:17 tumbles around inside me from this week's Bible study-Heart, how do I walk by the spirit?
I cling to the image of the pilgrims walking. . .and so I walk, step by step, choosing to depend on the Spirit moment by moment, crying out to Him in prayer, exposing my mind to Scripture, seeking to obey it, grateful for opportunities to put sin to death. . .
I cling to the image of true companionship-the pilgrims in Doubting Castle lay perishing; then Hopeful encouraged his depairing companion with truth-together they remembered the promises of God.
"Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up. . ." (Ecc 4:9-12)
hmmm,. . .so we talked about that last week too, about true friends, those who challenge and exhort, who hold us accountable even when it's risky, who tell us truth when we wander-I want to be and to have that sort of friend, don't you?. . . even when it's risky.

first consider the interest of another

Last Saturday the perdicted heat index for San Antonio was 103 degrees, so I grabbed my book bag and headed for a quiet, cool spot. I ended up at my favorite library close to home, a library in an old house.
So- I found one empty chair in the periodical room and settled down with my book bag. 10 minutes into my study time, a woman with a cell phone began a loud conversation on the other side of the room partition-very loud, very personal. . .on and on it dragged, folks nearby twittered, coughed, cleared throats. . .

Sigh--I put down my books and pulled out my knitting. 30 minutes passed and finally the loud phone talker moved on; once more the library was cool. . . . quiet. Ah, yes, back to the books . . .

I was concentrating, counting stitches-and barely noticed a woman who entered the room and reached for the newspaper on the shelf in front of my chair. She circled the room, stopped, and announced to me, "I need your chair; I have to study and you are just knitting."

I stared at her, "Oh, you need to use your lap top here in this spot?" I asked (why did I say that? there was no lap top connection nor table around my chair. . .)

"Oh, no, I need to do research in today's newspaper and you are just knitting" she repeated

I didn't say another word, because I didn't know what to say, but there were words in my mind. . . is there a sign, no knitting allowed! . . . is newspaper reading more worthy than sweater knitting?. . .you don't understand, the loud woman with the cell phone. . .

I was stuck in my indecision- the woman in the chair next to mine was reading a book, and she said to me kindly, "she can have my chair."

This little incident happened over a week ago, but it keeps rattling around inside of me. . . and why? I'm thankful that I didn't return her rudeness with my own rudeness, thankful that I kept my mouth shut- but why didn't I just give her my seat? afterall, blessed are the meek. . .but there's more to it than just meekly giving up my seat to a rude woman with a newspaper; my motivation can't merely be meekness. If I could redo it-how could my response to this woman compliment the gospel? I'm wrestling with that question-and over coffee, I've been asking around; one young friend suggested, " I might say, Jesus tells me to consider others before myself, so I'd be glad to give up my seat". . . hmmm, that's good, so what would you do?

. . . with humility of mind let each of you regard one another as more important than himself (Phil 2:3)

some heart examination. . .

A few weeks ago I was reading through Proverbs 30 and I bumped up to this verse:

If you have been foolish in exalting yourself. . .put your hand on your mouth (Prov 30:32)

hmmm, foolish in exalting myself? yes, that applies to me. . . Put your hand on your mouth-a good practical reminder of what to do when tempted by pride. . . close my mouth.

And as God is ever faithful to discipline and grow me in Christ, last week I had opportunities- hand on mouth opportunities- in my numerous interactions with people and related to some personal circumstances (the kind I'd prefer to change. . .you know how that is).

However, the remedy to self-exaltation is not simply hand on mouth. . .it goes right to the source, to my heart.

Lord, help me to constantly examine my heart, weeding out even a hint of self-exaltation, that You alone would receive the glory. . .

one beggar to another. . .

Last week I met a woman for coffee whom I'd met briefly over the phone. . . hmmm, how could she pick me out in the crowd at a local restaurant? So, I described myself-short, 100 lbs., wrinkled, gray hair, gray book bag-she found me right away.
So, we had pleasant discourse about the get acquainted trivia; she shared her spiritual journey, and then I asked her about the challenges. . .
As my new friend shared her life with me, I thought,
No temptation has overtaken you put such as is common to man. . . (I Cor 10:13)
And the reality is. . .her challenges are my challenges-our temptations may wear different clothes but human struggles and responses are the same. And the answer is the same. . . but God is faithful (I Cor 10:13)

So, here's a thought. . .discipleship is like one beggar giving another beggar bread, and if I'm the one giving, I'd better be certain I'm passing on real bread. . .

And unless I let the Word of God richly dwell within me, I'll merely dish up palatable garbage to my friends. . .a scary thought, indeed.

simplicity and extravagance

Our Amaleah was visiting last week- I handed her the tiny pewter nativity scene and suggested she find a nice spot to set it up. She cleared a place in my narrow oak bookshelf and then exclaimed . . . but there's no manger! So, she and I poked around and decided that blocks would work; then Amaleah added sticks, grass, leaves to complete the scene-I love her five year old creativity. . .and I love the simplicity.

Christmas in rural Mexico was simple- a blanket of pine needles on the floor of the church building, recitations and singing on Christmas Eve, little girls with new plastic sandals (including my little girls), sweet coffee, hard animal crackers and peanuts, tamales, oranges, and a next-day trek over the mountain for more fellowship and worship-simple celebrations. . .Hmmm, just the way I like it!

Now then, simple may be my preference, but simple isn't necessarily more God honoring . . . infact, the incarnation of God the Son, bursts with extravagance.

"and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us and we beheld His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth" (Jn 1:14)

"God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that he who believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life" (Jn 3:16)

So, that first Christmas, because God loves sinners, the Eternal entered into time-Imagine that, Soul! Am I overwhelmed by the reality of God's extravagant love for me? And just how can I love others with such extravagance?

Perhaps it could mean cheerfully sharing my kitchen with the 24 dozen tamales and gallons of hot chocolate that my husband is packing up for the men at the homeless shelter.

. . . and honestly, it could mean relinguishing my desire for the simple and embracing another's preference for more extravagance-such a minute sacrifice, but it's all about my heart, isn't it!