Thursday, September 20, 2012

1 Corinthians 16


                We’ve arrived at the final chapter of 1 Corinthians.  Paul’s closing of this letter to the congregation in Corinth touches briefly on a variety of topics.

                First, Paul instructs the Corinthians to take a collection for the poor saints who lived in Jerusalem.  The poverty of these saints as a result of famine and persecution is noted also in Acts 11 and Galatians 2.  Paul commands that this collection be taken on the first day of the week, which was now the day on which God’s people met for worship, in commemoration of Christ’s resurrection.   Paul instructs that each person set aside for this collection “as God has prospered him,” and he makes arrangements for the transporting of that gift to those for whom it is intended.  While he lived on this earth, our Lord noted that the poor would always be with us.  Your church likely also takes a collection for the poor each Sunday.  In a day and a nation in which we are constantly tempted to bow down to the gods of wealth and material things,  you and I have the responsibility to ensure that we are giving as the Lord has prospered us.  “So let each one give as he purposes in his heart, not grudgingly or of necessity; for God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:7). 

                Paul then notes his intentions to visit Corinth at a later time.  First, however, he had work to do in the city of Ephesus, “for a great and effective door has opened to me, and there are many adversaries.”  Striking, isn’t it, that Paul considered the opportunity to share the gospel in Ephesus a great and open door, in spite of many adversaries?  In weakness we often avoid doing the Lord’s work when we experience adversity.

                Paul then commends to them Timothy and instructs them to respect and encourage that young minister in his work.  He also notes Apollos’ intentions to come to Corinth at a later time, and then, in versus 15-18 Paul mentions the house of Stephanas, who had “addicted themselves to the ministry of saints.”  God used Paul mightily for the sake of the gospel in the early church, yet Paul knew very well that the health of the churches he had establish was not dependant on him or his work.  Rather, he recognized that God used the work of other ministers and the generosity of fellow saints for the benefit of the entire body.  He instructs God’s people to submit themselves to those who labored among them for their spiritual benefit.

                Four staccato commands compose verse 13: “Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong.”  The life of the Christian is a militant life.  In Ephesians 5 Paul writes similarly: “Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might.  Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.  Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.”  Then Paul inserts a reminder of his earlier instruction regarding the importance of love among fellow church members, which he import he also emphasizes in Colossians 3:12-14:   “Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do.  But above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfection.” 

                At the very end of the letter Paul pronounces a solemn curse upon those who do not love the Lord Jesus Christ, a curse that stands as a final warning to the Corinthians that they not be lead away from the simplicity of the gospel by those who were wise with the wisdom of the world.

His concluding prayer is my prayer for you this week: “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you.  My love be with you all in Christ Jesus.”
                

Saturday, September 15, 2012

kids say...

Those of you who know Miss Marie know that she tends to be dramatic.  Overly dramatic.

(Side note #1: a tree branch fell off one of the locust trees in our backyard a week or so ago.)
(Side note #2: In the last story of The Sneetches and Other Stories by Dr. Suess, What Was I Scared Of?, "I" has repeated frightening encounters with a pair of pale green pants.  At one point in the story, "I had to run in errand - had to pick a peck of snide - in a dark and gloomy snide field - that was almost nine miles wide.")

So the other day when she let out a shrill, ear-splitting shriek that lasted a minute or more (as she often does), I didn't go running outside.  I finished starting a load of whites and then made my way upstairs.  Marie was sitting in the kiddie pool in the backyard, still bellering.

I poked my head out the screen door.  "What's the matter with Marie?" I asked Leah, who, also used to Marie's overly dramatic moments, was calmly reading a her book report book on the patio.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"Marie!" (Still shrieking.)

"Marie!" (Abrupt stop.)

"Marie Eve, what in the world are you screaming about?  You know Mama does not want you yelling that loud now that we have neighbors living close by!"

"But...but..my pool is full of snide!" Marie wailed.

"Full of what?" again I turned toward Leah.

"Snide." Leah replied, not even glancing up from her book.  "Marie's been picking a peck of snide off the tree branch and she dumped it all in the pool and now I guess she's mad about it."

Chuckling, I headed back inside and brought Marie the kitchen colander.  She and Nath were busy fishing "snide" out of the pool for quite a while after that.

Oh, kids!  What next?  :-)



Ahoy, matey!

Willem turned six years old Wednesday.

We celebrated his birthday on Tuesday, for the most part - B.J. had men's Bible study Wednesday, and Will wanted Daddy around the entire evening for the festivities.

I can remember when B.J. and I were dating, he told me once that he liked the name Willem.  I didn't forget.  And here he is, the one who's not embarrassed to give me a full bear hug and a slobbery smack right on the lips when I drop him off at school.  The one who still hibernates in the basement for long periods of time building things out of LEGOS, hates to get out of bed in the morning, but loves to be at school.


Willem, still our one with the tender heart.  When I tell the kids about Uncle Ry and the divorce, it's Will who immediately tears up, covers his face with his hands, and sits hunched over 'til I talk him gently through.  Later, I walk into the living room, and Will's standing in front of our wall of fame, hugging himself as he gazes upward.
"Whatcha doing, Will?" I ask.
 "Just lookin' at their family," he says, and then he presses his lips together and his chin trembles.
"Oh, Will," I say as I reach for him, and he tears up all over again.

But...it's also Will whose energy remains unbounded.  More often than not, I simply don't know what to do with it all.

It was the week of Marie's birthday that Will announced that he wanted a turtle birthday cake.  We were in the baking aisle of King Soopers at the time.  I merely raised an eyebrow and added a sack of flour to our cart before moving on.  A turtle?  I'd expected maybe a sled dog or a dragon (I'd just finished reading the kids Stone Fox, and B.J. had just finished reading them The Hobbit.)  But a turtle?  This child, choosing one of the slower, more predictable animals on the planet?  Yeah, right - this isn't going last, I thought.  But it did.  The "I'm going to have a turtle for my birthday cake" theme continued until Grandma visited two weekends ago and mentioned that cousin Levi had had a pirate ship for his birthday cake.  Then the tortoise went suddenly extinct.


So we made a pirate ship Tuesday.  It wasn't very big (B.J.'s not a big cake fan, and I certainly don't need to be eating birthday cake for a week) and we put it together quickly (Eli fell asleep, and I said, "OK, this cake is going to be finished before he wakes up."  And it was.  The LEGO pirates and accessories helped - they were B.J.'s when he was a kid), and Will was delighted with it.  Plus there was plenty of leftover frosting to snoop when we were finished (we made Aunt Carlene's pudding frosting - the kind she'd put on white cake for Sunday dessert at Grandma's).


Before Eli was born, I told B.J., "I think this baby is going to be a girl...but the other two times I thought I knew what our babies were going to be, I was wrong..."  And so Eli was born.  "I actually kind of wanted a girl," I said later, "because I feel so inept at mothering boys."  Turns out the good Lord has a good sense of humor!  Here I am trying to make this sloppy pudding frosting look like the planks of a ship, and Will's busy pretending he's bombing the boat.  Then the LEGO shark starts taking chomps out of the side (we did read him James and the Giant Peach.)  I send him to check why Nathan's hollering in the living room, then realize about 15 minutes later that he hasn't returned.  So I walk in to the living room only to find the furniture rearranged, and the chest where we stow library books emptied out and full of Willem instead.  He grins.  "We're playing house.  I moved the couches around."  When I make the girls' cakes, they hang around the entire time, praising me for every minute detail.  "That's so beautiful, Mommy!  You're so good at this!"  With Will, by the time were finished, I've decided that we're going to pad his room instead of paint it.

Opening his gift while Grandma watches on Skype.

A new engine for his HO set - the other one is broken - and more track (Will's Dad likes to play trains, too.  :-)
That wasn't all of the birthday festivities, though.  Caleb sent a toolbox with "real man" tools, so Thursday Will was busy pounding boards together in the backyard.  On Friday he got to ride Mrs. Moore's crazy birthday train at school, share a birthday treat, and show Eli for show & tell.  I am glad I was there to be a part of it all.

We love you, Willem!  (And I'm glad the Lord gave you to us when we were young.  :-)  Happy, happy birthday!

Love,
Mom

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

and feed the baby

You've read Olivia?
She's the one who is good at lots of things - like wearing people out.  She even wears herself out.


In the morning, Olivia gets up, moves the cat, brushes her teeth and combs her ears and moves the cat...



I feel a little like Olivia lately, only I'm not moving the cats, I'm nursing Eli.

In the morning, I wake up and feed the baby, get breakfast on the table, drive the kids to school, feed the baby, throw in a load of laundry, settle a Marie and Nath dispute, feed the baby, get lunch on the table, read a few stories, doze while feeding the baby, pack up Marie and Nath to get the kids from school, come home, get a snack on the table, feed the baby, fold the laundry, get supper on the table, try to feed the baby without spilling my supper on him, load the dishwasher, bathe the kids, feed the baby, tuck the kids into bed (they've worn themselves out), pack lunches for the following day, feed the baby...and by then, B.J. and I are both worn out, too, so we put ourselves to bed.  Then, of course, there's more feeding the baby throughout the night.

But he is such a sweet baby, our precious Eli.  And all those feeding times provide me with the opportunity to rest, review spelling words, and read lots of books...like Olivia.

And one day, all too soon, I know, it will be otherwise.


“Can a woman forget her nursing child,
And not have compassion on the son of her womb?
Surely they may forget,
Yet I will not forget you."

Isaiah 49:15

Saturday, September 8, 2012

last weekend

So I'd looked forward to last weekend since the end of May, since graduation day for Leah's kindergarten and eighth grade schoolmates.  It was there, at graduation, that I watched Leah walk in with those kids and teachers we love, and my throat grew tight and hot, and I wiped stubborn tears through the opening prayer.  It was there, while we were eating buns and cake in the basement, that Sherry leaned back over her chair and told me about the plane tickets that they had bought to here, and that they would be coming over Labor Day weekend.

And last Friday, they came.

Grandma and Eli.

Auntie Anna and Nathan reading "The Sneetches."

Grandpa couldn't resist the Ice Cream Man!  :-)

Everyone with their ice cream.

Along the Thompson River...




Swimming with Grandma at the hotel.


Auntie Sherry and Eli.

Grandpa and Eli.


Grandpa and Nathan.
I snapped the last photo of my Dad and Nathan shortly before they all left late Sunday night.  My throat was tight and hot, and the tears were starting to come.  It was hard for me to say good-bye...I wanted to hold on to those precious moments with my parents and siblings and our children for just a little bit longer.

We watched them get into their rental car from the front step.  Dad turned around and waved at us from the front lawn, and I pressed my lips into Eli's soft hair as everything blurred.

B.J. held me close as we fell asleep.  As I drifted off, I thought about them flying out early in the morning, and us, staying here.  I thought about what might have been.  And then I thought, why I am so sad?  Yes, there will be dear people and good times missed here below...but we've got forever.

We love you, Dad and Mom, Sherry, Anna, and Jerron!  Thank you so much for coming to visit!  And, hey, Jer - quit growing!  (If you don't, I know that when I see you next I'll officially be the shortest in the family!  ;-)

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Quotable: Do more

Do more than belong: participate.  Do more than care: help.  Do more than believe: practice.  Do more than be fair: be kind.  Do more than forgive: forget.  Do more than dream: work.

~ William Arthur Ward

1 Corinthians 15


                Two weeks ago today our fifth child was born.  Two days before that, the school year began for my husband, a teacher, and our two oldest children.  My days are full of baby-feeding, diaper changing, book reading, memory verse reciting, lunch packing, dishwashing, laundry folding, and homework helping.  Though I’m busy and my blessings are many, and even though I know that motherhood is a high calling from the Lord, there are still days when I crawl into bed exhausted and wondering if all my efforts amount to anything.  No doubt that whatever your work is, you feel that way sometimes, too.  Even wise, wealthy Solomon felt this way: though he ruled an entire kingdom, he wrote the book of Ecclesiastes about the vanity of man’s toil and of this earthly life.

                So today I’m thankful for the opportunity to reflect for a few moments on 1 Corinthians 15, a chapter with profound encouragement for the believer who is weary in well doing.  Your work and mine, no matter how mundane it may seem, is not done in vain on account of the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.  The Corinthians were saved by that same gospel, which Paul had preached unto them.  The word “gospel” means “good news.”  The gospel is the good news that you and I, sinners who deserve eternal hell, have been forgiven the debt that we owe God.  How?  On account of Jesus’ death on the cross.  And how can we be sure that Jesus’ death has merited salvation for us?  God raised Him from the dead!  Furthermore, writes Paul, He is the “first fruits” of all who will rise again.  In other words, Paul asserts that Christ’s bodily resurrection ensures our bodily resurrection. 

And yet, there were some in Corinth who denied the truth of the resurrection.  To them Paul points out the foolishness of living the Christian life without the hope of the resurrection.  “Why,” he asks, “stand we in jeopardy every hour?”  Paul had repeatedly risked his life for the sake of the gospel.  For many, even in our day, professing Jesus Christ means poverty and persecution.   And for those of us who do not know profound poverty or persecution, our Christian confession means we must deny ourselves the sinful, self-absorbed lifestyles that appeal to our human natures.  Essentially Paul asks, what would be the point of sacrificing for the sake of the gospel, of living the Christian life, if there were no resurrection?  If we did not believe that after we die we will be judged according to our work and rewarded in glorious, eternal life, this life would indeed be meaningless.  We see such hopelessness in those who have the attitude to which Paul refers in verse 31 of this chapter: “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.”  In an attempt to satisfy their longing for purpose, many turn to drugs, alcohol, money, sex, sports, fame...  And if we are honest, we will confess that we are prone to such foolishness ourselves. 

                “But some will say, ‘How are the dead raised up? And with what body do they come?’”  How can it be that a body that is buried in the ground to decay will rise again?  Our bodies, writes Paul, are like a seed that is planted into the ground, only to live again in a new, more glorious form.  “So also is the resurrection of the dead. The body is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption.  It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness, it is raised in power. It is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.”

                When I read verses 51-58 of this chapter, I am transported the hilltop cemetery that overlooks the place where I grew up.  There my grandparents and infant sister are buried.  I can hear the voices of former pastors officiating at their gravesides, “O death, where is thy sting?”  Death stings.  The apostle Paul does not deny this.  But though it stings, the believer has hope that is greater than that sting, for we have the victory  – the promise of the resurrection of the body - through our Lord Jesus Christ.

                “Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.”

Saturday, September 1, 2012