Author: jdunderwood

The Nativity Wars

/ jdunderwood / 2 Comments
Besides the five nativities with movable figures, I also have several small, fixed nativity ornaments or sets. Here are two of my favorites (plus a star) that I have hanging on my bamboo plant next to my kitchen sink (I haven't managed to kill it yet!). My sister bought the dark wood ornaments for me in Africa, and on a recent trip to Ten Thousand Villages I treated myself to the carved gourd nativity made in Peru. So beautiful!

Besides the five nativities with movable figures, I also have several small, fixed nativity ornaments or sets. Here are two of my favorites (plus a star) that I have hanging on my bamboo plant next to my kitchen sink (I haven’t managed to kill it yet!). My sister bought the dark wood ornaments for me in Africa, and on a recent trip to Ten Thousand Villages I treated myself to the carved gourd nativity made in Peru.

The Sunday after Thanksgiving we decorated the house for Christmas.

Our three youngest were in charge of putting ornaments on the tree, a chaotic process because the youngest, PJ, gets a little over-excited (I told my sister he was like a bunny rabbit on crack, which made her howl with laughter—not because of my description but because she could easily imagine it.) Plus, since none of them is over 4 ½ feet tall, there are a lot of territory skirmishes over the lower half of the tree, and it ends up a little bottom heavy—until the older ones come in and help them rearrange.

While the kids were busy with the tree, I put out the rest of the “stuff,” which includes a lot of Christmas books and five nativity sets: one I received as a child, painted by my Mammaw (yes, I’m from the deep South); three others Dave and I received for our Christmastime wedding more than twenty years ago; and one that the twins’ Sunday School teacher gave them when they were in first grade.

I arrange them just-so, in careful semi-circles so all their faces can be seen…

And then I wait for the nativity wars to begin.

The first attack this year was sneaky. I didn’t even see it happen. I walked through the dining room and noticed a clump, not a semi-circle, of figures on top of the piano.

He’s been at it, I thought.

I checked the others. Two of the remaining four had been rearranged.

I put them back in semi-circles, but just a few hours later they were all huddled together again, a crowd rather than a scene.

Son Jake and I love nativities.

We just like different arrangements.

So every year we do “battle” during the Christmas season.

We start out with sneak attacks, but pretty soon it becomes open warfare.

Last week we had a longtime friend over. She noticed the crowded nativity on the kitchen counter and began to rearrange it. I noticed what she was doing and laughed.

“It won’t stay that way.”
“What?”

“Pretty soon Jake will come in here and push them all together again.”

“Why?”

And, suddenly, it hit me, the why. I couldn’t understand why I’d never seen it before.

“Because he wants them all close to Jesus, that’s why.” I was stating my revelation more than answering her question.

I tested my theory later that day.

“J-man, why do you like all the figures clumped like that? We can’t see their faces when you put them that way.”

His tone made it clear he thought he was answering a pretty dumb question. “But they can’t see Jesus when they’re all spread out.”

Aah!

After all, what’s more important—that we see their faces or that they see Jesus?

It’s a busy, busy season, and we tend to get a little caught up with the celebration of it—and, often, with how others see us celebrate it.

But what’s more important—that they see us or that we see Jesus?

So gather as close as you can, crowd into Him, stretch high on tiptoes, do whatever you need to do to fix your gaze on HIM.

Because not only is that the absolute best for us, it’s also when others get glimpses of Him, too. When we press close to Jesus they want to see what we’re so excited to see. In our wonder and awe, they catch some of the fascination of Christ’s love for us.

It’s a fascinating love, isn’t it!

From glory, He put on flesh—such limitation!—and then “humbled Himself…” to “death on a cross.”

All for love!

All for us!

 

II Corinthians 8:9 “You know the generous grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty he could make you rich.”

Consider Him

/ jdunderwood / Leave a comment

I consider weekends my heaviest work days. With all the kids home, there’s extra cooking, extra driving…

Extra.

Sunday afternoon, in the middle of cleaning for our church small group that we host on Sunday nights, with dinner prep still to do while one kid needed homework help and another needed nagging to get working on homework…

I got grumpy.

Self-centered.

Full of an inner rant about—

I’m not going to go into it. I’m assuming everyone pulls the martyr card sometimes, so you know what I mean.

And in my kitchen, bent over with a dustpan, God stopped me.

Look at the verse for the day.

It wasn’t audible, but I knew for certain that I was supposed to put down the dustpan, cross to the microwave, and flip the verse calendar that sits on it to that day’s verse.

“Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” Hebrews 12:3 (NIV ’84).

Seriously. That WAS the verse for that day.

Wow! You’re right, I prayed. How could I ever begin to compare my enduring to Christ’s? Help me to press on.

I did press on, but I still struggled with thoughts of self-pity, and this has continued off and on since Sunday (it would be better described as “on and off”). It’s been a recurring battle that I’ve either chosen to fight (with plenty of cries for help) or given into (yuck!).

On Sunday night, one of the women in our small group shared about a guilt battle that she has had to fight, over and over, in her head. It just won’t go away.

I’ve thought about her struggle as I’ve fought my own battle these last couple days. Why do some sin issues become recurring themes in our lives? Why aren’t they dealt with and done? Why do our cries for help for these sins grant release for only a short period before we have to do battle again?

But all my musings about the “why’s” haven’t helped me, either, even though I “know” some of the answers.

This morning I had to replace a burnt-out strand of lights on the Christmas tree. Even as I did this, my spirit continued to find all kinds of small things to gripe about. Tired of fighting the battle, I tried to shut my mind off. “Just stare at the lights,” I told myself. “They’re bright and beautiful.”

Look at the lights.

Somehow the phrase turned to Consider Him.

Consider Him, I thought. Consider Him.

“Oh, God!” I said in sudden realization, “Consider YOU!”

Not Your sufferings apart from You—like I’m trying to stack them up against my own petty “sufferings” and guilt myself into gratitude.

Consider YOU.

Because You are great and glorious and good. Because You are beautiful, bright light, and You long to shine into my darkness. And when I look at You, my darkness gets swallowed up.

When I look at You, I gain perspective. I see that, just as Your struggles had purpose, so do mine, even if I can’t see far enough to know what the purpose is. Just as You kept your eyes on the Joy of being reunited with Your Father Yourself and the Joy of reconciling many to Him, I can know there is an eternity ahead when I will know You in ways I can’t even imagine now.

When I consider Him, the rest of the Hebrews 12 passage gets worked out in my life.

I put up the lights, I wrote the above, and then I had to go to a dental appointment. The radio came on when I started the car, and the program was about women who are married to spouses who don’t follow Jesus. “Oh, that would be so hard,” I thought as I listened to the women’s stories of persistence and grace. “I’m so grateful for my marriage.”

Gratitude! For fellow believers—witnesses (Heb. 12:1)—who provide examples to me of turning to the Father again and again in their needs, and for the Father Himself, Who gives me exactly the right gifts—and exactly the right trials and discipline—to draw me closer to Him.

I’ve been far from gratitude these past few days. Most of my cheerfulness has been forced and false.

But considering Christ—Him alone—brought a real and genuine gratitude back and gave me sympathy for others.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus.

Look full in His wonderful face.

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,

In the light of His glory and grace.*

Consider HIM.

 

*Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus by Helen H. Lemmel, copyright 1922

That's Maddie under the paper-sack mask!

That’s Maddie under the paper-sack mask!

F.R.O.G.

/ jdunderwood / Leave a comment

My twins’ second-grade teacher Mrs. M gave them the basis for a lifelong theology last year. In a classroom decorated with frogs—ALL kinds of them, even those amazingly brilliant tree frogs that look like they’ve been dipped in paint—with pet frogs in an aquarium in the corner and a teacher who occasionally wore frog-decorated clothing, my kids learned, over and over, an amazing lesson: F.R.O.G. Fully Rely on God.

That’s a powerful lesson, especially when it’s coupled with a teacher who lives it out—as Mrs. M does, in spite of some pretty heavy issues in both her past and present.

I can’t begin to count the number of surgeries Mrs. M has had. She’s also had cancer. Her mother died last year. She taught much of the 2011-12 school year with her arm in a sling; this year she’s had to use a rolling “thingie” to support one knee while she’s taught. She is often in great pain.

She models F.R.O.G.ing, not with fake smiles or a grin-and-bear-it attitude, but with a full acknowledgement that reliance on anything or anyone OTHER than God is a gamble she is not willing to take. The result is a woman marked by quiet persistence who extends honest grace to herself and to others.

The result is a woman who teaches F.R.O.G.ing not only with her words but with her life.

I’m still learning to F.R.O.G. My twins think they “learned it” last year, but they’ll find it’s a lifelong lesson. It’s so easy for us to put our trust in something or someone other than God. This life “seems” to demand it, and even though we know, deep down, that we’re eventually doomed to be disappointed by others or “stuff,” we hope—and sometimes even pray—that we will not be one of the “unlucky” ones who gets cancer, or whose spouse cheats, or whose children get sick or die. We trust in our jobs, assuming that we will not be the one who loses it and becomes homeless.

F.R.O.G.ing requires that we grip things loosely, with an understanding that all things could go “wrong,” but we are still held fast by a God who is not rocked by any circumstances. We cannot genuinely and completely F.R.O.G. here on earth. (I’ve seen people who try to F.R.O.G. in their own strength. They hold back from deep relationship with other people and live in extreme asceticism, but this isn’t true trust and it certainly doesn’t do others any good.) But a genuine desire to fully trust that is borne out of the understanding that we are not capable–not even of trusting–will be answered. God will gently deepen our trust through one trial after another in which He is proven to be, time and again, a faithful, loving, ever-present God.

This morning I read I Peter 5:7 in the Amplified version. In most other versions, it’s such a quick verse that it’s easy to blip over its meaning, but God used the Amplified version to catch my attention today: “Casting the whole of your care [all your anxieties, all your worries, all your concerns, once and for all] on Him, for He cares for you affectionately and cares about you watchfully.” I Peter 5:7

In Isaiah 30, God rebukes His people because they are trusting in an alliance with another nation. They have placed their confidence in the false prophets who told them everything would be “okay.” God reminded them that this was a wrong source of trust: “In returning [to Me] and resting [in Me] you shall be saved; in quietness and in [trusting] confidence shall be your strength. But you would not,”

Today I am grateful for Mrs. M. She is one who lives out returning and resting and trusting confidence.

And in doing so, she has given a lasting gift to many

Emily and Kelly trying out a homemade face mask they made.

Emily and Kelly trying out a homemade face mask they made.

.

don’t do this (a “just for fun” post)

/ jdunderwood / Leave a comment

We get conflicting messages about food this time of year. Yummy-looking recipes pop up on one side of my computer screen, and on the other I see dieting tips for “getting through the holidays without gaining a pound.” I don’t really have any advice of my own to add other than this: no matter HOW you choose to approach eating this holiday season, don’t force your approach on someone else.

A long time ago, when I was teaching at a public middle school in a middle-sized town in Indiana, one of my fellow teachers came up with the great idea of having a holiday lunch potluck. We were a somewhat divided set of teachers, with a few very quirky ones in the bunch, and others who were just downright disgruntled much of the time. We didn’t do much all together, except share a lot of gossip in the workroom and fuss about problem students. The teacher with the potluck idea was one of the few cheerful ones, and surprisingly, everyone got on board. (It probably helped that she planned the potluck for a day when we would teach in the morning, send the kids home, and then have an afternoon of on-site meetings. Most probably thought that the potluck would spill over into the meeting time, cutting it short.)

That morning we carried our crockpots and goodies into the library, placing them on a large table where the librarian (they were still called that back then–no “media specialists” yet) had set up a complicated system of heavy -duty extension cords so we could plug all the crockpots in. We perused the table of goodies and looked forward to a delicious lunch.

Surprisingly our local health nut had offered to set up more tables and spread out the offerings just before lunchtime. We thought it was just because she had her last period free.

Um, no.

When we walked in the library at lunchtime, drawing in deep appreciative breaths of the rich smells, we discovered placards in front of each dish. At the top of each placard was the name of the dish–helpful–and at the bottom were listed the calories, fat grams, and serving size of it.

That part was not so great.

Some dishes even had little notes: “Watch out–high calories.” “You’ll want to go lightly with this one.”

This wasn’t New York City. Gourmet cooking had not made many inroads into our town. The tables weren’t covered in salads (unless it was three-bean or potato) but in comfort food.

GOOD comfort food.

Needless to say, this dampened the mood, and our health nut received a lot of dark looks.

SO, over-indulge or hold back this holiday season, that’s YOUR decision.

Just don’t make someone else feel guilty for doing either.

 

It’s like a fact!

/ jdunderwood / 2 Comments

I think he took this picture himself using my computer. All I know is that I opened my computer the other day to find this picture as my background–compliments of his older sister, I’m sure! Love it!

The other morning I opened the devotional book Jesus Calling to read it aloud to Dave as he ironed his shirt.

“Oh, I have a hard time believing that most of the time,” I said—before I’d even read the first sentence.

“Believing what?” Dave asked.

“Here’s what it says,” I answered. “’I am pleased with you, My child.’ And listen to this: ‘You don’t have to perform well in order to receive My Love.’ Ouch!”

Forty-five minutes later I was in the middle of my workout when son Jake came down to the basement and did what he always does in the early mornings when none of his other siblings are yet stirring: he went straight to the couch and cuddled with our dog, Chai.

“Oh, Chai,” he said, his voice syrupy sweet. “You’re such a good girl. What a good girl you are!”

Feeling a bit like chopped liver—I hadn’t even rated a “hello”—and in the middle of a huffing, puffing part of my workout, I asked, “What has she done to make her a good girl, Jake? She’s just lying there.”

He looked up, his face surprised. “Mom, I love her. That’s what makes her good!”

Wow!

I love her. That’s what makes her good.

I am pleased with you, My child.

I guess God really wanted to drive the lesson home.

Ephesians 2:8 “For it is by free grace (God’s unmerited favor) that you are saved (delivered from judgment and made partakers of Christ’s salvation) through [your] faith. And this [salvation] is not of yourselves [of your own doing, it came not through your own striving], but it is the gift of God;”

I like how the Amplified version puts it: “not through your own striving.” Oh, I strive. And I beat myself up and assume that God feels the same as I do when all my efforts come up short or are revealed to be what they are—things done to make me feel good about myself.

At bedtime the other night, Patrick said something hurtful about a group of people. He said it without thought, just to be talking, but I didn’t let it slide. “Do you realize how hurtful those words were? Do you realize what you were saying?”

When I explained, he DID understand.

And he felt awful.

When I went into his room to kiss him goodnight, his cheeks were tear-stained and he wouldn’t look at me.

I rubbed his head, and he turned his face to me and asked, “Mommy, do you still love me after what I said?”

Man, when any of your kids say that—but especially your adopted baby—it stops the heart!

“Oh, sweetheart,” I said—when I could say anything, “nothing’s going to change my love for you. I Love You! It’s like a fact.”

He loves me!

He loves you!

It’s like a fact.

Shopping advice? From me?

/ jdunderwood / 1 Comment

No one—and I mean no one—comes to me for Christmas shopping advice.

I’m not a good shopper at any time of the year. As my husband and older daughter say, “You start grumpy and just get worse.” They generally refuse to go with me—especially if they know the stores will be crowded.

Despite this, though, I’m actually going to share some shopping tips in this blog entry.

If you like the idea of giving gifts that give back, then you might be interested in some of these very cool businesses and nonprofits that allow you to do just that. Giving these items won’t help you to buy more with less money, but you’ll know that every purchase enables an organization to do more for someone who desperately needs hope.

IF YOU’RE SHOPPING FOR PRETEENS/TEENS

Check out www.mudlove.com. This company, based in Winona Lake, Indiana (home of my wonderful in-laws and my alma mater, Grace College), sells made-on-site clay bracelets and necklaces. The most popular version is stamped with a word or phrase, and you can even custom order a word or phrase that has particular meaning to you. Twenty percent of each purchase goes to provide clean water in Africa, and $5 spent provides an African with clean drinking water for a year. My girls (ages 8, 12, 13, and 15) ALL love them.

www.entertheventure.com doesn’t have a whole lot of items for sale, but I love the heart behind this small nonprofit, which was started by some young friends of ours. They have African-made bracelets and necklaces made out of rolled paper. If you haven’t seen these, don’t think, “Paper? Tacky.” They’re NOT. Plus, each one purchased helps support two children’s homes in Africa: Jerusalem Children’s ministry and Springs of Hope.

BIG-TICKET BEAUTY

www.handandcloth.com sells gorgeous, one-of-a-kind blankets made from used saris by women rescued from the slave trade in Bangladesh. I’ve featured this ministry before on my blog (https://journeytojen.wordpress.com/2012/09/27/blankets-handmade-by-women-women-handmade-by-god/).  These are perfect buys for the person who appreciates beautiful, handmade artisan items (hmm—maybe that describes you yourself!). They start at $98 dollars and go up to around $200. Check out the blankets at the website—which itself is beautiful—and read their story while you are there. “Blankets handmade by women. Women handmade by God.” Wonderful work!

TWO OTHERS FOR WOMEN AT RISK

If you want something other than blankets made by women rescued from the slave trade, visit www.warinternational.org. The acronym WAR, standing for Women at Risk, was started in 2006. You can find jewelry, accessories, home décor, and children’s items made by women in 13 countries, including the United States.

www.stoptraffickfashion.com has t-shirts, jewelry, and totes/bags made from recycled materials. Many of their t-shirts express the heart of the women who run this website. One with a barcode also has the logo “People are not products” and several sport the logo “free.loved.radiant.”

LITTLE BIT OF EVERYTHING

Need to shop for kids, men, women—want to spend a little for this one, more for that one? Go to www.tenthousandvillages.com. Gorgeous jewelry, decorative items, and woven/knitted items for women; toys and games for children; even things like chess sets, bookends, and bicycle-chain frames for men. Their website is very easy to navigate and has some very helpful tools. If you click on the “gift ideas” tab at the top of the page, you can shop for holiday items, for men, women, or children, or by type of item.  You can spend a little (items as low as $4) or a lot. They also have shops (there is one near me in Glen Ellyn, IL). You can find a shop locater on the website.

FOR THE COFFEE LOVERS

Land of a Thousand Hills Coffee Company has “Drink Coffee. Do Good” as its motto. It started with farmers in Rwanda (the founder saw the effects of the genocide and had to do SOMETHING) and now works with farmers in Haiti and Thailand as well. They sell 100% Arabica, fairly traded, fresh roasted coffee. They sell ground, whole bean, and decaf, teas, and coffee accessories at www.landofathousandhills.com.

LOOKING FOR HANDCRAFTED CROCHETED ITEMS?

My husband just told me about this one, and I checked it out and love their website. What a great story! A group of high school guys learned to crochet simply because they wanted unique ski hats on the local slopes. Others dubbed them the Krochet Kids. Long story short (if you want to know the whole thing, visit the website), they taught these skills to women in northern Africa and then Peru, and they sell these handmade items at www.krochetkids.org. Each item carries with it the signature of the woman who crocheted it, and you can visit the website to learn her story.

AND, FINALLY, FOR THE PERSON WHO HAS EVERYTHING

Buy them a goat—bet they don’t have that. Seriously, go to  www.worldvision.org or www.compassion.com and look under “ways to give.” The gift catalog has items like school supplies, ducks, and clean-water wells. You can honor someone with your gift, and that person will receive a card telling about your gift and what it will accomplish.

ANY OTHER IDEAS???

If you have other ideas, please leave a comment and share! I’d love to hear your ideas.

Thanks for reading! I sure enjoyed pulling the list together.

Love language: gift giving!

/ jdunderwood / 1 Comment

Here are two of my crazy gifts! Maddie and PJ playing in a mud puddle!

Gift giving is NOT my love language, but one of my friends sure has it. When she gives me a present, her eyes sparkle. I know she received enjoyment in every step of the picking out/wrapping/presenting process, and it culminates when I open it and recognize that it was specifically planned for me.

God is like my friend. He LOVES to give us gifts. He intricately designed our bodies—that was a gift. So was the beautiful world we inhabit. These “common” graces we enjoy every day (not so common, really) are ongoing presents.

Then there is the carefully planned, sacrificial gift of His Son! That’s a gift that boggles our puny minds. That was a gift given through tears, God holding out to us His very soul, though His heart throbbed with pain.

He gave THAT gift so He could continually give. Jesus told His disciples when He left Earth that He was leaving them a present. The Comforter (boy, do we need a Comforter!) would provide the constant, never-failing Presence of God in our very hearts!

WOW! Cool gift! But somehow I forget about this Comforter, this Holy Spirit that stirs inside me.

So God gives me “little” gifts each and every day to remind me that I have HIM.

This day will be crazy busy. I knew that from the moment I woke up. But it has already been chock-full of gifts. I got to wake two of my children up, kissing soft lips still full with sleep. On the drive to school a hawk swooped above the car, close enough we saw individual feathers on its taut wings. We drove our favorite route, and the cattails shone against the grey sky and the beech leaves fluttered silver in the soft breeze.

These were not accidental gifts. God holds time and space. He’s better than the director of The Truman Show who could say, “Okay, Truman is about to cross the street. Cue ray of sunshine, bird song, and brightly colored leaves falling to earth right..NOW.”

God literally plans these kinds of gifts for me every day. That hawk was a present, timed perfectly so that I saw it. He LOVES to give me these gifts. He is like my gift-giving friend, taking joy when I take joy in what He gives.

And each “small” gift is a reminder that He has much, much bigger ones available for me. He’s knocking on the door of my heart. “Let me come in and BE with you.” He doesn’t duck out when I encounter something hard or frustrating. He doesn’t say, “You’ve blown it, so no more gift of My Presence.”

His gifts to us are all pictures of the greatest gift of Himself: the same yesterday, today, and forever, YET new and fresh in beauty and depth.

God, the Gift Giver!

Value in/value out–and guilt begone!

/ jdunderwood / 4 Comments

I am GOOD at guilt.

I can make myself feel guilty for just about anything: not being a good enough mom/host mom (or wife, not sharing my faith enough, not doing enough for others… My husband and kids actually tease me about this. One night a couple weeks back, Dave asked me, “Now why did you feel you had to be a chaperone for the kindergarten field trip along with volunteering in the school cafeteria today?”

Before I could answer, my 12-year-old did it for me. “Because that’s what ‘good moms’ do, Dad.”

Bam! Right between the eyes. Good moms—and Christians, neighbors, whatever—do “enough,” and “bad” ones run around trying to figure out what the heck “enough” is and drowning in guilt in the meantime.

One of my recurring areas of guilt wallowing is in relation to the “least” of the world. When I am reminded of the number of orphans in the world or refugees in DuPage county (my home county), part of me wants to run away, to not be touched by knowledge that disrupts my comfort. Fortunately, as God softens my heart, I am increasingly led to pray, to actually feel sorrow that draws me closer to the heart of God.

But there’s another part of me that goes straight to the guilt button.

Last week I wrote three posts about the “least” of the world. I didn’t plan it. They all came out of natural events of my week, and it was not my intention to induce guilt—neither in anyone else nor in myself.

But being the guilt expert I am, it was bound to happen.

The I’m not doing enough. I’m not giving enough chorus was ready for the Metropolitan Opera by the end of the week. 

At the beginning of this week, though, I was reminded that God doesn’t like my guilt wallowing. He doesn’t want a heart that coerces its holder into good deeds. He wants a soft, tender, compassionate heart.

He wants a heart like His.

He didn’t send His Son to die because He felt guilty. He did it because He values us. He loves us not for what WE have done but because that is WHO He is.

He values us not as the world does—for our power, our wealth, or our talents—but because He has stamped His image into each human creation.

You are mine, He breathed into Adam and then sorrowed as, one after another, we turned our back on that truth. He still holds our existence, but He wants our hearts.

Each human being has value because God says so.

God woke me up (literally) from my guilt fest last week. In the middle of the night I startled awake with His Words sounding in my mind: “You are mine. You have value because I love you. When you know THIS, it can flow out of you and you can value others. This will show them that I love them.”

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.” Philippians 2:3.

My guilt is a twisted form of vain conceit. It is focused on ME, and it assumes that I can somehow fix the problem, that I have enough knowledge to fix it—if I just think hard enough, if I just do enough. Though it can get masked as something wholly good, it is at its core a false humility—conceit in a prettier package.

But the desire to do good that flows out of God, now that happens when I remember that I am valued—loved immensely—and not for anything I am or can do. THIS knowledge allows me to VALUE others, not just “do good” to assuage my self-centered conscience. Then I can pass value on without losing a smidgen of it myself.

This is something I can do this every single day. I don’t have to be working with refugees or working overseas at an orphanage. I can practice this with the clerk at the grocery store, with the hygienist at the dentist office, with the homeless guy holding the sign on the street corner, and the loud, off-center woman who wears sweaters in July and hangs out at the public library. I can even do it with my friends and family.

Philippians 2:4 reminds me how to do this: “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” I have to stop thinking that my to-do list is more important than people. I must be willing to set it aside. I cannot walk through the grocery store with a preoccupied look on my face, thinking only of what I’m fixing for dinner and putting in lunches. I must be willing to look into each face, see each as a human being valued by God, and engage—a smile, a look, a few words, kindness most of all.

Value in, value out.

And if I practice this in “small” ways, listening for the promptings of God as I move through my everyday life, then God makes “big” ways clear as well. “Eagerly pursue and seek to acquire [this] love [make it your aim, your great quest];” (I Corinthians 14:1a, Amplified).

Value in—I am loved.

Value out—so I can love others.

And guilt begone!

points of the compass

/ jdunderwood / Leave a comment

This is an image I downloaded from the Voice of the Martyrs website (with their permission). The man on the left is Christian Bounchan Kanthavong, who spent 13 years and eight months in prison in Laos for his faith. On the right is the actor who portrays him in a video made by VOM that tells his story.

Today is the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church. If you want to read more about the persecuted church, I suggest the Voice of the Martyrs website (www.persecution.com). Along with great resources and a regularly published newsletter,the VOM website allows you to sign up for weekly prayer updates that will help you to pray specifically (I don’t know about you, but my generalized prayers don’t pack a lot of oomph). VOM also has a really cool letter-writing opportunity. If you go to http://www.prisoneralert.com, you can pick an imprisoned fellow believer and choose phrases to create a letter to encourage that person. The site translates the phrases, you print them, and then you can send the letter to the address the site provides.

Another website is http://www.opendoorsusa.org, and http://www.persecutedchurch.org has an even fuller list of organizations (and their websites) that support the persecuted church.

This morning in church we read Revelations 7:9-11: “…there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. 10 And they cried out in a loud voice: “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” 11 All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12 saying: “Amen! Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God for ever and ever. Amen!” 13 Then one of the elders asked me, “These in white robes—who are they, and where did they come from?” 14 I answered, “Sir, you know.” And he said, “These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.15 Therefore, “they are before the throne of God  and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence. 16 ‘Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat down on them,’[a] nor any scorching heat. 17 For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; ‘he will lead them to springs of living water.’[b] ‘And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.’[c]”

Earlier this week I ran across a hymn by John Oxenham (1852-1941) that reminded me of the incredible family connection we have with believers in Christ all across the earth. I’m sharing it here:

IN CHRIST THERE IS NO EAST OR WEST

In Christ there is no east or west,

In Him no south or north;

But one great fellowship of love

Throughout the whole wide earth.

In Him shall true hearts everywhere

Their high communion find;

His service is the golden cord

Close binding all mankind.

Join hands, then brothers of the faith,

Whate’er your race may be.

Who serves my Father as a son

Is surely kin to me.

In Christ now meet both east and west,

In Him meet south and north;

All Christly souls are one in Him

Throughout the whole wide earth.

Refugee Joseph

/ jdunderwood / 1 Comment

This morning I subbed as an aide for one of the World Relief English-as-a-Second Language (ESL) classes that meet in Wheaton. Refugees from well over a dozen countries come together with a single goal: to improve the language skills that will enable them to assimilate more into U.S. culture. Some want to go to college for the first time. Others hope to validate degrees they earned in their home countries that carry no weight here. Mothers come hoping to be able to communicate with their children’s teachers or even simply to talk with the clerk at the grocery store.

They all have stories; the U.N. doesn’t label just anyone a “refugee,” and it doesn’t relocate most —far from it—across the globe. There have to be reasons, good ones, considering that, if given a viable choice between returning home or going to the United States, almost all of these refugees would choose their homeland. But home—and the family still there—is not a realistic option.

Today, during the small chapel break that splits the class into two halves, several aides acted out the story of Joseph. I stood next to a young mother of two. We chatted before the skit began, and I learned her young boys’ names and ages. Her husband, who was a photographer at home, is now working part-time construction, hoping to get full-time, hoping, somehow, to return to the work he really enjoys.

The skit began and we watched as Joseph was thrown into the well and sold into slavery and his father was given the news of his death. “Joseph had many troubles in Egypt” was used to fast-forward the narrative to his interpretation of Pharoah’s dreams and his promotion to being the second in command. Then his brothers came looking for grain. Joseph had to turn aside to weep, but he did not tell them who he was. Then the brothers came again, this time bringing Benjamin, Joseph’s younger brother, the only other child of Joseph’s beloved mother Rachel. Joseph hugged him and cried. He forgave his other brothers. The audience, filled with the small sounds of tea drinking and softly murmured comments before, was completely still now.

The woman who narrated the story looked out at the audience. “You have all been through hard times. Many of you are going through difficult times now. Remember that there is a God who is good. Hold onto what Joseph said: ‘You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good.’ He is a good God. You can cling to that. He can work good out of what you are going through.”

Next to me I could hear the young mother crying. I’m sure many faces in front of me were wet as well.

I hugged the young mother, and we filed back to classes far more quietly than we had come in. One of the teachers and I made eye contact. “Somehow means a lot more in this context, doesn’t it?” she said.

Yes, it does.