After 20-some years of neglecting small group Bible studies while raising a busy family, I jumped in this year and joined one at our church. Studying and then discussing Galatians and James with a lively group of ladies was refreshing and inspiring! The study wrapped up last week, and it was strange having no more pages of questions to answer early this morning as I opened my Bible.
To compensate, I wrote this quirky, condensed summary of the 5-chapter Book of James. I hope it will make you smile & perhaps even inspire you to read or review this short, rich book for yourself!
If somebody wants to be a distinctive business leader, exceptional speaker or successful investor, they typically listen to a podcast or read a book by someone who stands out in the field.
Likewise, if anyone aspires to be a more humble person, they can learn that quality from others who excel at it.
Jesus is the ultimate example.
But, you couldn’t go wrong if you also examined Moses — a B.C. (before Christ) example of humility:
Now the man Moses was very humble, more than any person who was on the face of the earth.
Numbers 12:3
This amazing statement about Moses is an assessment of an individual who was the adopted son of a princess, a dictator-defying miracle man, and a worthy judge, who had more than one close encounter with God. Most people wandering around in his shoes sandals might be swayed by pride, popularity and self importance.
But, Moses oozed humility (plus loads of imposter syndrome) from the day God chose him to lead His people out of slavery. After begging God five times to choose someone else, he finally relented — as long as his brother could do the talking for him.
Besides being the spotlight-shunning leader of the Hebrew people, Moses was a prolific writer. The majority of Bible scholars believe that Moses wrote the first five books of the Bible, inspired by the Spirit of God. (II Tim 3:16).
In addition, Moses also wrote one installment in the Bible’s book of poems, prayers, hymns and meditations — Psalm #90.
I thought it was worth discovering what was on the heart of the humblest B.C. man. So, today I examined Psalm 90 to see what Moses decided was worth writing about. My impression is that Moses valued God as:
Eternal
A passionate creator
Sovereign king of the universe
Unchanging
A listener and giver
It also seems that Moses had a proper perspective of the bigness of God and the smallness of people.
(Humble people don’t usually have trouble believing in their smallness.)
He also appeared to realize that God has a steadfast, never-ending love for people, who are His image-bearers. (Genesis 1:27)
So, consider reading Psalm 90 for yourself and hear the thoughts of this humble B.C. man!
Psalm 90: A Prayer of Moses, the man of God.
Lord, through all the generations you have been our home! 2 Before the mountains were created, before the earth was formed, you are God without beginning or end.
3 You speak, and man turns back to dust. 4 A thousand years are but as yesterday to you! They are like a single hour!5-6 We glide along the tides of time as swiftly as a racing river and vanish as quickly as a dream. We are like grass that is green in the morning but mowed down and withered before the evening shadows fall. 7 We die beneath your anger; we are overwhelmed by your wrath. 8 You spread out our sins before you—our secret sins—and see them all. 9 No wonder the years are long and heavy here beneath your wrath. All our days are filled with sighing.
10 Seventy years are given us! And some may even live to eighty. But even the best of these years are often empty and filled with pain; soon they disappear, and we are gone. 11 Who can realize the terrors of your anger? Which of us can fear you as he should?
12 Teach us to number our days and recognize how few they are; help us to spend them as we should.
13 O Jehovah, come and bless us! How long will you delay? Turn away your anger from us. 14 Satisfy us in our earliest youth with your loving-kindness, giving us constant joy to the end of our lives. 15 Give us gladness in proportion to our former misery! Replace the evil years with good. 16 Let us see your miracles again; let our children see glorious things, the kind you used to do, 17 and let the Lord our God favor us and give us success. May he give permanence to all we do. [Living Bible]
The above picture is from:
The Jesus Storybook Bible: Every Story Whispers His Name, by Sally Lloyd-Jones
2023 has its own Wikipedia page, and here are some of the things included on the global calendar this year:
Luxembourg, Thailand, Turkey, Sudan, Guatemala and at least ten other countries will hold their national elections this year.
King Charles will be crowned King of England in May.
India is projected to surpass China to become the world’s most populous country.
In my small part of the globe, who knows what the year may hold? But so far in 2023, I have already sampled two new sports: pickleball and snowshoeing.
This is surprising, since I am not a person who inserts athletics into her bio. I favor reading, sewing, audiobooks, and gentle walks.
Pickleball
Since practically everyone in my family is playing pickleball, I wanted to try it — and it is FUN! I took a class on January 2nd, and since then, I have been thinking of ways to play inexpensively at an indoor court. During a cold Minnesota winter, indoor court time is precious, and you must share with others. It’s unusual to reserve an indoor court just for yourself and a friend – it’s pickleball courtesy to let another pair join you.
Before I took the class, my husband gave me a quick tutorial session, and we volleyed with two other pickleballers.
We played for 1.5 hours.
Since my body wasn’t used to this (I haven’t used tennis muscles since the 20th century), I left the court with a pulled hamstring.
It didn’t seem right to injure myself in a sport that seems designed for and enjoyed by so many senior citizens. But the muscle is healing, and I will keep trying to find ways to play with other beginners like me.
Snowshoes
Early in January 2023, a foot of snow landed on us here in Minnesota. This made driving difficult, my teenage boys busy, and our tractor a necessity for blowing snow off our long rural driveway.
This beautiful, white, deep snowy landscape was the perfect backdrop to try a snowshoeing class, hosted by the local park system. My two youngest boys and I were glad for a balmy 29 degree day yesterday, as we strapped on our rented snowshoes and followed the leader up the woodsy hill.
Snowshoes have a sharp-toothed metal piece that allows your foot to grip slippery surfaces, and the snowshoe’s width spreads out your weight, so you don’t sink down into deep snow.
Besides learning about how to navigate trails using these simple contraptions, we also learned that you shouldn’t eat blue snow. When you see this, it means that rabbits or deer have eaten buckthorn, which turns their urine a lovely shade of blue.
Don’t eat blue snow.
New Year Thoughts
What will 2023 hold for each one of us?
Colorful experiences?
Strained muscles?
New life seasons?
Deeper insights?
Growth? Learning?
Overcoming? Letting Go?
Some of these don’t seem to arrive without stretching, sweat, or struggle.
Verses I am studying from the book of James remind me that we all go through trials, but trials are not the end of the story. If we let God do His work in us, trials can refine and improve us (but nobody said it was easy.)
Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.
James 1:2-4 MSG
May 2023 be your best year yet.
The object of a New Year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul and a new nose; new feet, a new backbone, new ears, and new eyes. Unless a particular man made New Year resolutions, he would make no resolutions. Unless a man starts afresh about things, he will certainly do nothing effective. ~Gilbert K. Chesterton
Be at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let every new year find you a better person. ~Benjamin Franklin
Life is short. Stay awake for it. ~ Caribou Coffee
My first baby’s birth did not go as planned. In fact, it went as opposite as we ever could have imagined.
We had planned for a full-term, natural birth with a midwife attending. We hoped it would be the first of a number of children that God would give us.
Instead, I landed an emergency classical c-section attended by a gaggle of doctors, and gave birth to a 2-pound preterm baby who was struggling to breathe. Just before the birth, someone came in to prepare me for the fact that he could be blind and have many other health issues.
Dead Dreams
After the c-section several doctors sternly told me:
“You can never have a natural birth. Your scar would most likely rupture, endangering your life and the baby’s.”
“And by the way…you should only have three c-sections at most. Any more could compromise your health and endanger the baby’s life.”
Tears. Dead dreams. Fears and sorrows.
A cleaning lady entered my hospital room while I was recovering from the c-section and subsequent infection. She stopped sweeping, looked at me and said:
“I would never let them cut me open.”
More tears, coupled with doses of indignation plus hormones.
Strong Scars?
The doctors sent me home with a thick pack of official papers that described my scar and the classical c-section. These papers earnestly affirmed that I could never-ever-no-never have anything but a c-section. Home birth was definitely out of the question.
After three months of daily visits to the hospital, my preemie baby boy finally arrived home. While enjoying my new baby, I still was preoccupied with my perceived “damaged and scarred” state. I remember actually looking at and envying other pregnant moms while thinking, “SHE will probably have a natural birth, but I never will.” Then, a good friend suddenly encouraged me with the fact that:
“Scar tissue is actually stronger than the original tissue.”
Was that true? I wondered if other moms had safe, natural births after a c-section. I started reading and researching about the heresy possibility that the doctors might have been wrong?
Digging for Answers
There was no internet available to me in 1992, so I just went to the library and looked up birth stories. I also talked and wrote to people that had healthy VBACs. I found a lot of evidence that it would be possible for me to have a natural birth after all. But a doctor wouldn’t be able to help; it would have to be a home birth and it would have to be a midwife willing to take me on, BIG UGLY SCAR and all.
In February of 1993, I became pregnant and after calling a long list of midwives, I finally found midwives Jan and Jeanne. They didn’t seem to mind about my scar, my history and all the doctor warnings. So I threw away all of those official papers and knew I had only one more thing to acquire before I was ready.
One Missing Thing
I had godly cheerleader-type friends in my life who encouraged me. They reminded me that God can take care of me and my baby whether I am at home or at the hospital. My husband (who has limited respect for doctors) told me I’d be way better off having a home birth, with no doctors interfering with the natural birth process, trying to give me things I don’t need! :0
I assembled my home birth supplies and the only other thing I needed for my first home birth was… FAITH. I needed to trust my loving, sovereign, omnipotent, Heavenly Father. The passage I found most encouraging was this, which became my life verses:
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
Hebrews 12:1-2
The only other thing I needed for my first home birth was… FAITH.
I needed to trust my loving, sovereign, omnipotent, Heavenly Father.
The Rest of the Story
God’s will for each of us is played out differently, but this is my story. It’s the story of a scar, dead dreams, and a harvest of faith bigger than I could have imagined. I don’t give myself credit for the faith, though. Any faith I have comes from Him, because even faith is a gift.
After that first home birth, I had nine more home births. Most of these involved an attending midwife or two, and none involved pain meds (but if they were available I probably would have said yes!) The last home birth brought complications, but God was sovereign in that one too, and it had nothing to do with the scar as predicted.
Speaking of scars, if you too have a scar (physical or emotional or both), please consider my story. Our loving, all-knowing, all-powerful God can make a “scar story” build our faith and even work out better than the original plan. He can take dead dreams and breathe life into them.
30 years later, here’s my husband and I with our “harvest of faith.” (The former preemie is in the Air Force now and is in the back row, far right!)
I like walking along the beautiful Lake Minnetonka, but the shoreline homes are so dazzling and covet-worthy that I find my mind wandering…”what would it be like to live here?”
Sigh…we could never afford a place like 35018 Sleepy Hollow Road — a storybook cottage nestled along a peaceful, lapping lakeshore. But the people who live here are not necessarily happy, I console myself. And, they probably feel the pressure to keep up with rich neighbors. And they must endure walkers like myself, who gawk and stare while moving along the rail trail.
One last random thought enters my head: this place doesn’t even have a clothesline.
After looking up the home price (sold for 3 million in 2018) I thought I’d write one of those real estate descriptions for OUR home — you know — the kind of copy that makes even a major weakness sound like an intriguing possibility?
Roomy Home on the Prairie
Relax in country paradise in this multi-level rambler on the prairie. A quiet hideaway on seven acres, this spacious property offers nearby access to biking trails, parks, schools and shopping. (Relatively new) updates include hardwood floors and windows. Additional updates pending. Indefinitely.
Large, finished basement offers a “lived-in” look, plus plenty of light from generous windows.
Enjoy the master bedroom + bath and a large top floor bedroom that serves as a spacious office — both with original oak flooring. This home features three bedrooms on the lower level plus three full bathrooms and a half bath.
Very vintage floor-to-ceiling living room windows allow a broad view of the backyard garden, tall trees and natural prairie wildflowers that attract wildlife, bees and birds. Enjoy a private walk around the property or a cozy bonfire near the mature apple tree orchard. Toss a football around or play a game of ultimate frisbee on the lovingly tended ball field.
Harness natural wind power to dry your clothes in country fresh air on the updated clothesline (Make sure the manure spreader isn’t working on the adjoining land first.)
This property is convenient to local towns and services, but is nestled in its own private country space.
Finally, it’s not for sale, because WE live in this roomy, happy home on the prairie — and it’s better than a million-dollar lake home.
Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known. Jeremiah 33:3
Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thess. 5:16-18
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7
Being over 50, my ears have heard many words. Some words I wish I could recall. Some words I would like to forget. But there are three things people once said to me that I believe I will remember forever.
1. “You will always have beauty in your life.”
I took biology my sophomore year at Edina High School. Mr. Ehlert was my teacher: a quirky older man who sported bow ties, tweed jackets, and a grizzled beard. He would lecture every day, and our task was to take attentive notes in our all-important notebooks. Our grade depended heavily on these notebooks, which we offered for grading every few weeks.
It was — and is still — my habit to doodle in notebooks, so mine was filled alternately with words, pictures and word-pictures. I might have written out the process of metamorphosis in words, with arrows, or doodled a whimsical caterpillar~butterfly combo as my pencil flew across the pages.
We handed in our notebooks one Friday and got them back the next week. In my notebook, he made comments and asked occasional questions. He did not scowl at my doodling — instead, he approvingly referred to my artsy note- taking when he wrote:
“You will always have beauty in your life.”
I have never forgotten that little comment — the memory of it has grown over the years and made me feel richer.
2. “You smell like Jesus, Lisa.”
I remember the day I walked to my p.o. box at college, opened it and found a simple note, that began with a Bible passage:
“But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and through us reveals the fragrance of the knowledge of Him in every place. For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.”
You smell like Jesus, Lisa!
I looked around the mailroom. Who had sent me this encouraging, anonymous message? Who thinks I *smell* like Jesus?!
Looking back, this period of my life was sometimes more selfish and stinky than spiritually fragrant! Although the message could have been the result of someone’s Bible class assignment, or sent in bulk to several people, my spirit soared and I have pondered over and cherished this verse ever since. It’s also good to remember that if we ever eke out a Jesus fragrance, it is only because we have His power to do it. The rest of the verse says: “And who is adequate for these things?” 2 Corinthians 2:16.
3. “You never complain!”
Betsy was a beautiful southern lady, twenty years my senior. She hosted a small group at her home, simply to build God-focused encouragement into the lives of women.
I remember the time she looked me in the eye and told me:
“Ly-suh…I never hear you complain! You never complain, do you?”
Betsy didn’t live with me, and my husband certainly could have told her the real truth, but as I reflect on her words, I realize that the moment she said that, she pronounced upon me something to live up to; something like a prophecy:
I am someone who doesn’t complain. I will be someone who doesn’t complain.
Her words have diffused power over the years, and have caused me to hold my tongue or think of my blessings instead of my lack. I only hope that I will be a “Betsy” to others who need one throughout their journey.
This is Betsy.
Conclusion
The value of looking back at these three comments is to cause me to be inspired to do the same for others. Our words are powerful. These three people probably had no idea of the impact of their short messages. They didn’t preach a sermon at me, or lecture, or use fancy words; but the effort they took to speak something kind ended up being as valuable to me as gold.
any more than The Christian Life is all about YOU.
Marriage is one big school to make you more like Jesus.
Someday, you will look back and see
the big picture
and the footprints of God
who effortlessly carried you through every joy and trial.
Keep that fresh, dewy, idealistic smile on your face.
With God,
You got this.
Love, Me
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogantor rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful, it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. – from 1 Corinthians 13
My mom always told me things like, “Put yourself in their shoes.” She helped me see value in people that others would ignore, and to reach out to them.
We hosted a family with eight children for a few weeks, because they didn’t have a place to stay. At the time, I just thought it was fun to have friends staying with us, but I didn’t think about the challenge it must have been for my parents.
Many of my mom’s friends had hard backgrounds or difficult life problems. People like Norma, Gwen and Sandy needed rides, or encouragement, or babysitters, or a perm, or they needed my mom to help them do a garage sale. We saw her reaching out and didn’t know that we were absorbing it.
Because of my mom’s influence, I went on to attract individuals all my life who had a unique story and special need for a friend.
My dad had a quote that he kept in his desk drawer, in the county budget office, on the 21st floor of the government center in Minneapolis:
If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.
Henry David Thoreau
My dad was kind and respectful in the way he talked to everyone — never talking down to people.
He gave people a chance. He sold our station wagon to a rough new kid who visited our youth group, allowing him to pay him in installments. After one or two payments, Wally Johnson had the car and my dad never saw him again. Once or twice my dad asked me, with a twinkle in his eye, but with no malice, “Do you ever see that Wally Johnson?”
I learned to create art.
My mom and dad were both creative — each in their own way. They liked to garden. Mom liked to make ethnic meals and crafts, like stained glass and decoupage. Dad worked with wood, making my dollhouse, inlaid parquet projects, furniture, climbing bears and many other toys.
My mom and dad encouraged me to use my talents. Whenever my mom needed a card, she would ask me to write calligraphy on it, and when my dad made something out of wood, he asked me to paint something on it. They treated my art like it was real art, and because of this, it became real art. They valued homemade things, from Dad’s handmade antique-turned-lamps all over the house, to my mom’s oil paintings, to our elementary school art projects that hung on the walls. To them, the best art was meaningful art, made by people they loved.
I learned to seek God.
They took us to church every week. They took us to camp and youth group and confirmation class and Bible studies and reminded us to read our devotions. My mom, Sara and I memorized James 1 together. Mom gave me many Christian books (which I sometimes read and sometimes didn’t.) She passed on her love for Corrie Ten Boom and Joni Eareckson Tada, and we gobbled up The Hiding Place and Joni’s autobiography. Mom loved the Psalms, Christian books and showed her love for God by serving her family, other people and also becoming involved in the growing pro-life efforts of the 1970’s and 1980’s.
Dad read his Bible, too, but never marked it up. (I get that from him.) He was in Bible studies, but I never heard him talk about them much. He was a quiet believer who acted like a Christian more than he talked about being one.
These are my parents, Tom and Caroline, with me, on my wedding day 06/23/1990. My mom made my wedding dress by combining three different patterns, according to the way I wanted my dress to look. (She made her own dress, too!) And, of course….my dad paid for the whole thing.
** This was the question I got today from Storyworth. Storyworth was a unique gift I received from my children on Mother’s Day. I receive a weekly email question to answer, and it usually brings forth a flood of memories. It’s a good exercise for any blogger and the plan is for all of these excerpts to turn into a lovely book, full of a lifetime of memories. This gift of a Storyworth book is the kind of thing that is perfect to give to an aging parent who might be in danger of losing her full brain functionality soon…hehe…probably why I received it 🙂
My Word Soup 