Whatever is Pure - September 2007

What's A Poor Guy Supposed To Do?

Every year, I would watch with a mixture of pity and amusement as my poor father squirmed in his chair on three separate occasions: Christmas, Mother's Day, and my mother's birthday. He was given the daunting task of buying a gift that would be acceptable to his spouse. My mother always purchased the children's gifts and the gifts to extended family, wedding gifts and the like. As a result, she felt she was not asking too much in expecting someone else to buy her own gifts. Valentine's Day was easy as my mother was more than happy with the traditional box of chocolates and card; you see, she was somewhat of a chocoholic and even my shopping-challenged father could find the chocolate section of our local drug store.

In the early years of their marriage, my mother would reply. "Surprise me" when my father asked what she would like as a gift. After several 'surprises' that were the cause of much marital strife, my mother begrudgingly provided her hapless husband with a list of items that she would actually like. Over the years and after many disappointments, she further refined the list by promising the items from 'most wanted' to 'least desired'. Dishes, hand-mixers and other kitchen appliances usually fell into the 'least desired' position but they often found their way under the tree or on to the birthday table. My mother could not or perhaps chose not to hide her disapproval or disappointment upon opening gifts received from my father.

When I was around the fourth grade, my father figured I was old enough and brought me along on his annual Christmas shopping trip, perhaps thinking that a ten-year-old female would understand the mystique of a grown woman better than he would. When we pulled up to our local deep-discount department store, I knew my father had made his first mistake. When we headed toward the household section of the store, I whistled under my breath. Mistake number two, Dad! Looking up into my father's earnest, red face and then looking down at his white-knuckled hands clenched onto the shopping cart in front of him, I wisely kept my counsel as he loaded the cart with dozens of the cheapest coffee mugs he could find. Coffee mugs were indeed on the list my mother provided, the third or fourth item below clothing, books and bubble bath. I suppose he felt that if he purchased enough mugs during this one expedition, he'd never need to go through the torment of buying mugs again in his lifetime. The year he came home with a dozen huge ashtrays whose uneven bottoms scratched my mother's coffee table should perhaps wisely stay in the murky annuals of unfortunate gift purchases. Upon the dawn of easy access to gift certificates, my father's major gift buying trips slowly faded away.

My father was a very generous man and was the first to reach into his pocket or larder to give to a friend or family member in need, even if it meant giving the last dollar in his billfold or the last can of soup in the pantry. As I accompanied him on various gift-buying missions over the years, He never conveyed any resentment although it seemed that it didn't really matter what he brought his wife; she'd probably find some fault in it. I only sensed his anxiety -- he wanted to get it right, to please her, even if it was only once! His heart and intention was to bless his wife - even if it killed him in the process.

Having several male friends who are married, I have witnessed their struggles in the same area. Desperately wanting to bless their spouses with awesome gifts, these husbands may not be versed in the finer details and find themselves to be on the receiving end of looks of disappointment or worse.

I have been guilty of placing the same pressure on friends and loved ones, expecting them to provide me with the perfect gift, love me in what I perceived to be the perfect way, extend to me the perfect words, and bestow on me the most thoughtful of sentiments. Because of my inability to see the larger picture and see the heart of the giver, I became increasingly disappointed, resentful and hurt over the 'thoughtless' treatment towards me by those I held dear in my heart. A few years ago, the Lord gently exposed my ungrateful heart and I repented. The eyes of my heart opened to see the honest love that was behind every imperfect gift given and the generous heart behind every less-than-graceful worded blessing bestowed on me by my friends and family. Since then, I can happily testify that as I grow in the practice of seeing others through a grateful heart, the disappointment and resentment fade away and I possess a deeper awareness of the daily blessings that the Lord brings my way.

From the DCQ Archives:
February 7, 2003

We prevent God from giving us the great spiritual gifts He has in store for us, because we do not give thanks for daily gifts. We think we dare not be satisfied with the small measure of spiritual knowledge, experience, and love that has been given to us, and that we must constantly be looking forward eagerly for the highest good. Then we deplore the fact that we lack the deep certainty, the strong faith, and the rich experience that God has given to others, and we consider this lament to be pious. We pray for the big things and forget to give thanks for the ordinary, small (and yet really not small) gifts. How can God entrust great things to one who will not thankfully receive from Him the little things?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer
© 2007 Katherine Walden
Contact for permission to reprint or use in any format.
Receive a free weekly devotional by Katherine

A Prayer To You Lord God

Hidden Treasures

Isaiah 45:3 NIV
"I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the LORD, the God of Israel, who summons you by name."

"Let's go!" The captain of the small boat grinned ear to ear as he stood with one foot in the boat, and one foot on the dock. My stomach was churning with both uncertainty and excitement as our mission team headed out to a tiny island several miles away.

I don't swim. I am afraid of water over my head! I thought about staying behind and faking a stomach ache or something, which wouldn't have been a lie, but I gathered my courage and went with everyone else on that boat. The team leader hired a local Belizean to take us to the island for a day excursion as our "reward" for a hard week of work in the heat. The sun was shining brightly and no threat of a storm was visible. I checked….

The wind blew in our faces as we headed out to sea. We stopped at a little tiny island where a coast guard station was positioned and got off to explore the pretty shoreline and visit the little museum.

On to our destination! The captain of the boat had his son with him that day. He was about 10, and a complete joy to be with! You could tell he thoroughly enjoyed being with his dad on the boat.
Once to the island, we all set up in different little sections of shade under gently swaying palm trees. It was a perfect day, and a perfect place! I remember standing in the center of the island, doing some exploring, and thinking how remarkable it was to stand there and see shoreline in all directions! That's how small the island was. There might have been two other couples on the island besides our mission team. The captain of the boat fished with his son, hoping to take some home for their supper. It was cute to watch from my little "lookout" in the middle of the island.
He came back to get us and took us out to the reefs to snorkel. Since I don't swim, snorkeling was not high on my list of to do's! The water was choppy over the reefs. I tried it one time, but my life jacket kept making me feel like I was choking!

But, it was enough for me to understand why people love to snorkel the reefs of Belize. The colorful fish under the water's surface were breathtaking! Sun-bright yellow, brilliant blue, shocking orange…you never knew what you would see when you dipped your eyes beneath the surface! Those hidden treasures, only for "under water" eyes to behold. Only for eyes who dared to jump into the depths.

I thought about God's treasures that day. If I had chosen to stay behind because I was out of my comfort zone, I never would have been blessed by what I experienced!

Oh, friends, don't you see we’re the same? God wants us to jump into the unknown with Him. He wants to surprise us with so many hidden treasures that our minds can't comprehend them. He desires to bless us with a journey like none we’ve encountered! He wants to bestow on us the gift of hidden treasures, experiences to be encountered only when we leap out of our comfort zones and into the depth of His love.

When you follow Christ, you will behold more wonders than you ever expect to!
You will stand back in awe of your God. You will wonder what else there is out there for you…from Him. You will shake your head in amazement, and lift your hands in praise! You will be so glad you didn't "stay behind".

Like the captain that held out his hand for me to get in the boat with him, God holds out His mighty hand.. He's waiting on you to take it. He's waiting for you to make a commitment to following Him, and allowing Him to take you to a whole new place. It's a life full of adventure! A life full of blessing! And a life full of hidden treasures….treasures intended only for those who take the dive into the springs of Living Water. What a perfect place to be.

© Lucy A. Cain
All Glory Is His Writing Ministry
Excerpt from "Life lessons in the presence of...Living Water
(A Thirst Quenching Devotional)"
XLibris 2007
www.allgloryishis.com
Thank You Lord

© Pam Williams
Please contact the author directly for permission to use in any print, web-based or electronic media

Sole Song

"Find the most beautiful anniversary card you can and send it to Marilyn as a token of My love for you."

"But Lord," I sputtered, "you don't understand. Send Marilyn a card after what she did to me? Are you kidding?"

His velvet steel reply was unequivocal, soft but unbending: "I'm not kidding. And while you’re at it, send Sean a birthday card, too."

Wham. Double wham. Marilyn acquired the dubious distinction of "former friend" over a year ago. Now God was asking me to do something for her that Marilyn hadn't done for me. This latest oversight capped a year-long series of snubs, slights and woundings of varying degrees that eventually resulted in a crumpled, dead relationship. 

Marilyn and I exchanged cards, gifts, time and attention to mark seasonal and special occasions for years. It was our way of saying, "You’re special. I care about you."I thought Marilyn and I were on the same page until my November birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas all came and went unnoticed by Marilyn – for no discernible reason. Ditto Valentine's Day, Easter, Mother's Day, and my May anniversary. It was a sizeable shift in our relationship that was never explained.  What changed? Was Marilyn sending me a message? 

When asked, Marilyn mortared a high, thick wall of defensiveness and busyness: "I don't even have time to send cards to my own family." It was a small thing to Marilyn, a dust mote on the canvas of our relationship. To me, however, it was The Last Straw. I tried to tell her. More than once. Marilyn never had time to listen.

Soul-clarifying communication, consistent contact and expressions of caring are my Love Language. I have never gotten the hang of "drive by" friendships. You know -- someone occasionally flutters a hand at you out the car window and considers that "being friends." I don't. Never have. So when Marilyn slid out of my life with "too busy" and "otherwise engaged," I felt as lost as an F flat in the key of A. Even worse was her icy indifference, a dissonance that continued unabated even after I confronted her on it. They say that the opposite of love isn't hate, but apathy. Truer words were never spoken when it came to Marilyn and me. 

Bewildered and baffled, I watched helplessly as the relationship crumbled despite my best efforts to shore it up. Eventually, I was as burned out as prairie grass after a lightning strike. Continued unresponsiveness and self-imposed isolation on Marilyn's part hauled me to the heart-wrenching conclusion that our friendship was over. I finally gave up, let her go. I don't think Marilyn ever noticed. She was perennially "too busy," too buried in "doing ministry" to remember my birthday or anniversary—or my phone number, address, or email. Hence, when Marilyn's anniversary rolled around, I resolved to let it go by unsung—a reprise of her tune. But Someone had another song in mind.

The sense of loss was still raw when I heard His lyrics. So much so that I couldn't respond. Everything inside me rebelled. Paralyzed, my frayed heart was too Lilliputian to manifest the kind of love and grace this seemingly small act required. So He enlarged my heart, pouring out His love for me in a million different tunes--until my "heart reservoir" overflowed with Him. The result? I couldn't refuse His command to "leak" His love onto Marilyn.

Both cards and a gift went in the mail. My hands shook as I dropped them into the blue postal box. Reaching out like this, taking a risk this big when I had been hurt so badly? What in the world am I doing? An Alaska-sized lump rose in my throat. This kind of vulnerability terrified me. What if they don't respond? What if she blows me off again? 

Marilyn never acknowledged card or gift. I was disappointed but not devastated. Why? Because somewhere in the process of trusting obedience to a divine imperative I didn't understand, Jesus enlarged my heart. True, the relational spark I hoped my gesture might ignite never materialized. But I did what He asked me to do. I left the rest with Him. 

Slowly and imperfectly, I'm learning that the hole in my heart left by the loss of a cherished friendship drives me closer to the only One who can fill and satisfy my soul. And when the Lord Jesus pours His love into me, stretching me beyond the limits of my small, weak self, the music He makes can be as breathtaking and as powerful as a Puccini aria. He's slowly—sometimes painfully--replacing my soul-shrinking solo with soaking splashes of Himself, orchestrating a duet as vast and immense as His endless, unfathomable Love for both me and Marilyn. 

© Kristine Lowder
Please contact the author directly for permission before use in any format.

The Thorn

I was at a ladies retreat, and felt led to write a poem about that experience. As I was standing between my two sweet Christian friends, I realized that if not by the grace of God I would not be there and this little poem came to my mind. I wrote it on the way back from the retreat and my pen flew across the page.

A thorn between two roses,
Oh how I have been blest to stand
Among these flowers of beauty, peace and rest.

Who could have told me years ago,
A woman deep in sin,
That I would come to know The Lord
And count them as my friends.

This bouquet of precious friendship
Has helped me understand,
The love of God and Jesus
And about the promise land.

I love my little flowers,
Their scent pleasing to The Lord.
He knew just where to plant me
Where I would grow in sweet accord.

© Donna Edgar
Please contact the author directly for permission before use in any format.

Follow us on Twitter and Facebook