Gifts that truly keep on giving

Back in the winter of 1984 I was a young married woman, pregnant with my first child. My husband had departed for air force basic training a few weeks before Christmas and I was living with my parents until we moved to our first duty station.
I had a couple months to go before my life got busy with a newborn and I wasn’t working except to clean the house and help with laundry and cooking.
Then I got a phone call.
Dave Lace was my former neighbor and was the editor of our hometown paper. He was calling to offer me a temporary job. I have no clue why he called me. I don’t know if he saw my folks and they told him I was bored. I’m fairly certain he had not a single clue that I would love to be a writer. He paid me some much needed cash to sit for a few weeks at one of those new-fangled word processors and write.
I didn’t realize it then, but I was getting my first training in how to create a news story. My assignment was to take the news from the last year’s papers and whittle them down to a few pages of newsprint.
It was a gift from Dave, and I accepted it gladly.
Dave and his family lived behind my family when I was in elementary and middle schools. He had a son my brother’s age and a daughter several years younger than me.
I was always looking for stuff to do. With the majority of kids in the neighborhood being boys, I slid easily into tomboy status and did all the stuff the guys did.
We played football, baseball, and basketball in the driveway. While the summer Olympics were going on we set up running courses in our yards to run. Broomsticks on chairs became our high hurdles. One afternoon, my cousin and I were out back throwing pitches. Dave was home and saw us. He came over and gave me some pointers on my pitching form. Then he said, “It’s too bad you’re a girl. You’d be a good pitcher.”
Dave did not waste words. I knew he meant what he said. It was a gift to me. I filed that away and when the high school started a softball team, I tried out with Dave’s words in the back of my head and my parents encouraging me to give it a try. Bronchitis took away my shot at the team, but Dave’s words years before made me think I could be a softball player.
A few years after that, I got his call to come write for a short season. I loved it! I loved the people, the atmosphere, the electric charge that coursed through the newsroom; how each part of the business fit together to make a working whole.
Over the course of the next decade or so, Dave lost his job at the paper. Politics don’t always allow journalists to do their jobs. I moved twice, had my four children. Every now and then dad or mom would tell me they ran into Dave and he asked how I was and what I was up to.
Having moved back home, I went through a couple jobs, God always preparing the next position for me as the one I was in was ending. That happened in the spring of 2000.
My job processing film for a church directory company was being phased out. It was the perfect job for me as I was able to bring in money, while staying home with my kids. Knowing change was coming, my mom was watching out for something for me to do.
“Did you see the paper?”
“No.”
“Well, there’s a job at the paper.”
Oh. Wow.
“You should do it. They want someone who can write and who knows Galion.”
Mom knew I could do that. I applied and got a part-time job as a reporter that soon evolved into a full-time job.
One of the first happy surprises was Dave. He was back at the paper helping out as a stringer. He wrote stories as we needed him to and handled all the court reporting those of us in the newsroom had no time for.
He paid attention to my stories, quietly pointing out areas I could improve, telling me how good a job I was doing. Dave’s mind was chock full of information, stats, tips; and he had no problem sharing all that with me. He so supported my friend and fellow reporter, Jon, that when leadership refused to do the right thing, Dave’s resignation followed Jon’s.
I moved to another paper, but the encouragement didn’t stop. I would run into Dave on the streets of our town and he would always pause to check in. What did I think about …? How did I like being editor?
I would ask him his opinion on leading my news team, how to motivate, when to be hard-nosed, how to go after a hard story when everything in you screams to run the other way.
He would always patiently answer, tossing in a joke or two. More gifts from Dave.
When I headed back to “our” paper, Dave was back too. Back on the court beat, back providing background details to stories that us younger or “not native” folks had no way of knowing.
When I was promoted to editor, filling Dave’s shoes decades after he had had them removed, he came to my desk beaming. He had no doubt I could to the job and do it well. No hesitation. No problems working for this kid he once taught how to dig into old news to create new.
Tips came to my desk from his listening post at a table of coffee-drinking retirees at McDonalds. He never steered me wrong.
Eventually, we became aware that Dave wasn’t doing very well. His mind was hit and miss. He seemed to be ailing. Needing him, his expertise, his encouragement, I sometimes pushed too hard, refusing to believe the truth before me that Dave was just not able to do what he once was capable of.
He quit working. I clung to him that last day he was in the office, inadequately offering my thanks for all he had done for me, telling him I loved him.
I continued to see him around town, at the Y. He always told me I was doing a great job. He never failed to push me, even when he couldn’t get my name right. Alzheimer’s eventually put him in a skilled nursing facility. A new job brought me to Wyoming.
On Monday, one of the first e-mails I got was from a friend and colleague sending a link to my former paper’s obituary section. No comment, just a link. I was stunned to find Dave’s name listed.
I believe, think, hope, pray, that during lucid moments Dave saw his need for a Savior. I loved that man, but I failed in my calling to do what was needed to bring those within my sphere of influence the Gospel.
He knew where I stood, but I never had an actual conversation about what I believed and why.
He gave me the gifts of love and encouragement; he taught me his craft, made it possible for me to do the job I enjoy now. But I didn’t show him how to have the most important gift of all — eternal life.
Gift giving does not end at midnight on Christmas day. It is a daily thing, of utmost importance. Christ followers have been given, have accepted; the greatest of gifts. It is not one to keep to ourselves. We aren’t always going to know for sure that everyone we love has made the decision which will lead to eternity with Christ. We can know we have done our part and not move through the rest of our lives mourning this kind of regret.
We need to take to heart the words in 2 Timothy 4:2, which say, “Preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage – with great patience and careful instruction.”
It’s a gift, and gifts are meant to be given away.

Ouch

So I was not feeling well this morning and stayed home. The past month or so has been especially stressful.
I ran out of time for important things.
I put off some important things.
I put some important things on someone else's back burner - I know cause I can't even find it on mine.
I am tired in every way possible and it just caught up with me. I knew it was coming; but it still smacks with shock.
Just because I stayed home from church does not mean I didn't attend somewhere. I usually listen to Bob Coy's service before I head to my own church. They air the entire service on the Web so I get to participate in worship and hear a great heart-piercing sermon.
Today was no different. Here's one take away:
Have you ever wondered what Noah thought when he heard the ark close? When he knew it was too late for those outside the ark to be saved from themselves?
Pastor Bob didn't go the direction I will head now, but his thought made me think - Should we not be hearing the slam of the door everyday? For someone, it is too late. We don't have forever to make a difference, to make a decision.
And if we are Christ followers who are living like we aren't the slamming doors should be continuous. A thunderous sonic boom that echoes through eternity.

The Christmas story: What were they thinking?

Several years ago a song written by Mark Lowry became very popular around Christmas time. “Mary, Did You Know?” posed some amazing questions. Did Mary know the boy she delivered would be her deliverer? Did she realize when she kissed her baby that she was kissing the face of God? In all of our wonderful 21st century wisdom we can look back and answer those questions.
Though a young teen Mary was well-versed in prophesy concerning the Messiah, it was common sense to understand the Rescuer of Israel, and the rest of us, would have to come as a baby at some point. Israel expected a man in full battle gear. Mary delivered a perfectly human
little boy. The rest of His life didn’t match Israelite expectations either. Jesus had a loving stepdad. What must Joseph been thinking?
Haven’t we all had vivid dreams? Some we believe come directly from the throne of God? We seek help and God delivers by showing us our next steps as He gives us rest. Joseph’s dream must have scared him.
Following Jewish tradition, certain laws were to be followed if a woman who was engaged to be married turned up pregnant – especially if the betrothed was not the father. The wronged party had the right to a divorce and the offending party was to be put to death by stoning. In Matthew 1:18 and 19 God shares with us a bit of what was happening, but not all.
“This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.”
So the angel was not the first to discuss this child with Joseph. Can you imagine the conversation? The feelings of a young girl entrusted by God to give birth in a most miraculous way? How fast do you think she ran to tell Joseph this news? Do you think she bided her time,
waited for the obvious signs of pregnancy to alert her parents, all the while praying to the Father of her Son to give her the words to say and for believing hearts in her parents and fiancé?
We have to keep in mind that everyone was expecting God to raise up a Messiah from among the Israelists. But though they studied scripture, knew the prophesies inside and out, believing God
was still a problem. Prophesies had come to pass time after time after time and yet, in all their diligent study of Isaiah, they still did not see the truth.
What were they thinking?
Isaiah was given a direct prophesy to the house of David, which is recorded in chapter 7. “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: the virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son and will call his name Immanuel.”
Hint here to those old guys waiting for a Deliverer – “Immanuel” means “God with us.” In this case they should have been taking God at His word and looking for a literal virgin to become pregnant and give birth to the Son of God. So like us, don’t you think? Some of us have to be hit over the head with a spiritual 2x4 before we see what God is doing in our lives, what He wants us to do in response. We experience His provision time and again, but “believe” is not
in our vocabulary.
Here is what Joseph should have been thinking: Mary bearing the Son of God was not disgraceful, it was grace full.
Joseph did as we do – he started off thinking “what am I going to do about
this?”
“After he had considered this an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream …” and set him straight.
Guess Mary should have put on wings in order to be believed.
I love the angels presence in the story of my Savior’s birth. They remind me that we have God’s protection through them now. We read an angel appeared to Mary, one to Joseph and a whole host making the biggest announcement in all of time to the shepherds. I love that God uses His
angelic creation to tell others of He created what is happening. But I can’t help but wonder if Joseph was really righteous and actively looking for the Messiah, why he didn’t just believe. What was Joseph thinking? The same thing we would have been – we are in trouble now!
In truth, the only people who were actively looking for Jesus were a bunch of wise men (not just three) and they didn’t show up until Jesus was a toddler.
The only wise men at the stable the night of Jesus’ birth were shepherds. They were expecting nothing but a chilly night making sure nothing ate one of their charges. They got to be part of a miracle. Can you imagine what they must have been thinking? They probably forgot about hungry stomachs, not being warm enough, missing their family members. I bet they talked about that huge star and wondered where it came from; why it suddenly lit the sky like daylight. I wonder if they were thinking they wouldn’t be able to sleep for the brightness of it when it was their turn to try to rest.
I wonder if some of them cursed that light as people throughout history and even now do the Light of the World.
But then the sky got brighter with the appearance of first one, then a host of angels filling the sky. High noon in the middle of the night. Life got exciting for that bunch of outcasts.
What were they thinking? They weren’t. They believed. Men who had little, if any, training in prophesy and scripture just believed. They believed what the angel said, believed what the angels
sang and they had to check it out.
Study of the scripture is a good thing. But belief equals wisdom when we are centering that belief on God. Believing, leaning on Him, trusting Him will teach us more than scripture can. I am not
trying to displace the importance of the Bible. It is God’s love letter to us. But there are a great many more people who have read the Bible and have no belief in God than there are those who believe and have not read a Bible. Study is not a prerequisite to belief in God. As we head into this final week before our celebration of Christ’s birth we need to consider what each player in the drama of that birth was thinking. What about the other people staying in Bethlehem? There was a large influx of people due to the census. They were out of their element, on a trip some may not have been able to afford yet were forced to go on.
What did they think of their place in the events of the night? Did they go and see? Did they curse the light and the Light?
What about the innkeeper and his family? They reacted much like we do – gruff at first. “No, I can’t help you!” Tired, struggling to keep up with the demands of work and family and someone asks for just one more favor. We snap, then relent. And if we are blessed by God we see the good in our reluctant obedience.
The lesson in following God when we are at our lowest, most exhausted state. What were all those people thinking? What about Mary’s parents? Were they there? Were they worried about their daughter? Had they disowned her months before?
After we consider what everyone else was thinking we need to turn those thoughts inward. What am I thinking? What will I do with this Savior? Will I continue to reject Him? Continue to believe only after He acts in a larger-than-life way that I cannot help but see?
What are you thinking?

Iron Sharpens Iron - Blotting out our bad memories

Raise your hand if you would like to get rid of your bad memories. Okay, a bunch of you look really silly right now! But seriously, wouldn’t we all like to do away with some of the weaker displays of our character? Or maybe some horrible thing that happened? Or maybe just some stupid thing that creeps into our mind at inopportune moments — a stealth memory intent on your mind’s destruction?

I know I might be stepping in funky-smelling piles of yuck here but …

A recent article by a reporter at The Baltimore Sun indicates there may be a drug in our future that will erase bad memories. The treatment is intended for those suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome.

I think it’s a bad idea; hence I may be stepping in that aforementioned goo.

Please don’t get me wrong — PTSD is very real, affects thousands upon thousands of people the world over, is difficult for many to get treatment for, and I imagine can be difficult to treat given the varying severity in individual patients.

People with PTSD need help. No doubt. But I don’t think this treatment is the answer.

The folks quoted in the article admit to some problems with the treatment, mainly that they really don’t know if they can eliminate a single memory that triggers PTSD reactions. It could be that one jolt of whatever this treatment is would wipe out entire blocks of memory.

Think about this …

You are in a vehicle accident where someone in the car with you dies, or you are seriously injured. Now when you drive you go out of your way to avoid the area where the crash occurred. Sometimes when you get in your car, you freeze in sheer panic certain the next vehicle you encounter will hit you head on. Your head throbs, your pulse quickens, your chest hurts; you are drenched in sweat.

Add this — a year later you have your first child. You would not trade that memory for the world. The first time you felt the baby kick, the first cry; the first time the baby looks in your eyes and you know there is nothing on this planet you would die for but this child.

So, we have really bad and really good mixed up in one time frame. Your PTSD is getting worse and your counselor asks you to try this new treatment.

What happens if, when the treatment is over, you have lost the memories tied up in a block of time several years long? You forget the accident, and the fact you had a child and all the wonder that goes along with the event. You look at this child and wonder who she belongs to and why she is so insistent that you are her parent?

You see the problem?

Now, I would agree that there are blocks of time we all want to rid our minds of. I have a few years that I would bury if I could. The events in those years are so vivid I can tick off the months and days I would eliminate in a heartbeat. Or would I?

While helping in any way we can those who are truly suffering is a great thing, I think there are too many people out there who, like me would love to get their minds treated just so they could forget all their bad memories.

Ironic how true that is in this world where we fight off Alzheimer’s.

In the Bible the word “remember” is written 231 times. There is lot we are instructed to remember – where we have been, what the Lord has brought us out of, how and what to teach our children, the aspects of God that we are to keep in the forefront of our minds, His provision for us, His rescue when we were busy creating those memories we now want to forget.

The word “forget” is mentioned so much less in the Bible — only 64 times. Many of those are admonitions to “not forget” God or to take care of others.

Of course there are other words and phrases having the same meanings as “remember” and “forget.”

One important one is found in Psalm 103:12, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.”

That is a major amount of forgetfulness. Out of sight, out of mind. At least that is true for God. He wants it to be true of us as far as forgetting our guilt is concerned, but we have these pesky human brains that will not let go of stuff.

I hope when this treatment becomes a reality, if it does, there will be a great many people who seek to remember the reason it is not good to forget the bad memories we store.

While on one hand there are large chunks of time I would like to blot out, where better could I have learned the lessons I needed to learn?

David was confronted by the prophet Nathan concerning David’s murder of Uriah and affair with Bathsheba. Afterward David recorded what relief he sought from God during his period of repentance and we find his prayer in Psalm 51.

In verse 1,“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.” And verse 9, “Hide your face from my sin and blot out all my iniquity.”

Note that not once does David ask to have his memory of his sin removed. I am sure David never forgot his actions; after all, they led to two deaths, that of Uriah and of his son with Bathsheba. David grieved over his sin, but he certainly did not forget it or the effects of it in his life or the lives of those closest to him. After all there are consequences for our actions, and the making of a bad memory is one of them.

In Lamentations 3:19 it says “I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall …” but in verses 21-23 it goes on to say, “Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

I don’t mean to treat the horrors of life lightly. There are very good reasons for medical treatment of PTSD in soldiers, in sex abuse cases and for other types of abuse, for accidents, and crimes against people. If I could wave my hand in the air and ease the pain of those memories I would in a New York minute.

But to erase a memory that could define a person, a memory that God allowed you to have and can use for good is not the right treatment for life’s bad memories. The right treatment is to learn from them and teach their lessons to others. Because in the midst of our bad memories is the hope of God’s compassion, mercy and grace. What better treatment could there be for bad memories?

Are we driven by distraction?

My puppy has a nickname – Marley. My pup is neither male nor named Marley, but those who know her know she has a penchant for getting into things. She is curious and, well, let’s call it “involved” in her surroundings.

Sadie (that’s her real name) doesn’t destroy things in my house like the Marley of the movie “Marley and Me.” She does tear things up that are hers – a stuffed toy, a tennis ball. My hand is a handy chew toy. But that doesn’t last long because she is easily distracted.

When I take her outside she is more likely than not to head off to chase leaves whipping through the yard courtesy of our Wyoming winds. A lovely little bunny could be sitting right in front of Sadie and the pup will chase the leaves – as long as the rabbit doesn’t move.

A few of us were talking Sunday after church and the subject flitted to our dogs and the fact they are easily distracted. The dog in the movie “Up” brought instant laughter as one of us said, “squirrel” and we all laughed and looked. See that dog would be going about his everyday business and suddenly be distracted by one of those smaller furry creatures. Just as quickly, the dog would be back on whatever task he was undertaking.

I am a lot like that dog, and I am guessing so are you.

We keep ourselves busy doing our work – we take care of the kids, are attentive to our spouse, go to work or school and church – and every now and then our heads jerk to the side and we see IT. “Squirrel” (or something equally silly) takes up every available space in our brain and for a time we can focus on nothing else.

I find this happens all the time. I will be cruising at a good pace, doing what I need to do and suddenly an errant thought invades. While listening to something important I am suddenly wondering what time the football game starts. While driving my van I have an idea for something to write. While I am writing I get an idea for writing something different. Most writers I have talked to find that last one to be true. Our brains are constantly writing only not on paper; then we are constantly trying to remember what it is that we didn’t get written down. We live our lives in a constant state of “squirrel!”

Paul addresses this problem with focus and distraction in the book of Philippians. In chapter three he warns about things to look out for – those who do not think as we do, things we think are good for us but really take our focus off what God wants for us. They may very well be good things but not what we should focus on.

The goal is found in verse 10 –“I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death.”

A goal is something we strive for, and from which we must try not to be distracted. As Paul says in verses 13 and 14, “Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

The words “taken hold” translate to “apprehended” in the King James. Have you been apprehended by the things of God? Are you living life distracted? Are you on a perpetual “squirrel hunt?”

The squirrels and swirling leaves in our lives are not going to go away. We all must find a way to stay focused. I am not sure what all that entails for me. I would love to know how you accomplish this goal. Feel free to share it with me by emailing me at cshroyer@pinebluffspost.com or editor@pinebluffspost.com. I look forward to hearing from you.