I Didn’t call for any Reason

Posted on June 7, 2014 by rstaples2013

My phone rang. As I picked it up I recognized the caller as my nephew. The physical distance between us prohibits meeting for coffee.

I said “hello” and he responded with “hello”.

This was followed by silence.

I asked how he was doing and he said he was doing fine.

This was followed by silence.

I then ask if he called for any reason.

He said, “No”.

I carried the conversation from that time on. We didn’t talk about anything that was “important” but my heart was singing as we simply connected. My nephew simply wanted us to talk and I was honored.

I wonder if God would like us to pray from that model.

I know he welcomes us when we call to thank Him, when we cry out for help, and when we ask for guidance.

But, maybe He would love to just hear me say, “Hello” and then let Him carry the conversation.

In Isaiah 50:4 we read that the “Sovereign Lord has given me an instructed tongue that I may know the word that sustains the weary. He wakens me morning by morning, waking my ear to listen as one being taught.”

I think tomorrow morning I am going to say Good Morning to God and then listen. If He asks if there is anything He can do for me I will say I just want to hear His voice.

Have you ever prayed for no reason?

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Don’t Look at Your Feet

Posted on May 31, 2014 by rstaples2013

I have been ”over thinking” for a couple of days.

 I have some decisions to make, some plans to present and some options to consider.

 It’s hard to maintain eye contact with Jesus when you are distracted by that which you are stumbling over.

 I am reminded of a time when I was a guest at a wedding reception. The father of the bride was a ballroom dance instructor. His performance on the dance floor was stunning. All eyes were on him as he and his new bride daughter floated across the dance floor.

 Later in the evening the magic moment occurred. This father came up to me and asked me to dance.

 Honored, I walked with him to the dance floor. As the music started my eyes immediately fell to my feet. At the same moment I felt the palm of my partner’s hand lifting my chin. His words, “Nobody looks at their feet when they dance with me. It’s my job to make you look good.”

 His strong hand on my back and his confidence made me both look and feel like a dancer. My strongest memory is”this is fun.”

 I wonder if Jesus is wanting to lift my chin today. I wonder if He wants to posture my face in such a way that my eyes will focus on Him.

 He is fully aware of that which I am prone to stumble over. He’s attentive to it but not concerned.

 I think He wants me to hear Him saying, “Don’t look at your feet when you’re dancing with Me”

 Maybe this sign in our kitchen is a new definition of grace:

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The Door was Always Open

Posted on May 31, 2014 by rstaples2013

Tomorrow I am going to the closing for the sale of my Aunt’s house. I am the trustee of her estate so I will be the one signing the papers.

Today, her son brought me the keys to this house so I could give them to the new owner.

I was surprised at how strange it felt to have, for the first time in my life, a key to my Aunt’s house.

I guess I didn’t know she even had a key. The door was always open. I could walk into her house at anytime, unannounced.

I grew up on a farm. We didn’t have a key to our house either.

We did have a telephone.  It was a party line.  Our number was 4F2211.  That meant when there were two short rings followed by two long rings we would answer.

But no one wasted time on the phone to ask if they could come over. They just came.

Now no one goes anywhere without having mutually secured the time in our smart phones.

It will feel like a loss to turn these keys over tomorrow.

It won’t be a loss of keys. It will be the loss of a culture where dropping in was not an intrusion. It will be the loss of a community of belonging.

Are doors meant to lock people out or to invite people in?

What was God telling us when He tore the curtain from top to bottom?

I’m glad I have a picture of what an open door looks like.

It will be sad to bring a key to the closing. The key does not fit in the story.

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That is What I Do

Posted on May 28, 2014 by rstaples2013

 

 

I recently emailed a request to someone I was just getting to know and risked asking her to guide me in the steps I need to take for a project that has been a dream of mine.

 

To my delight, her response was “That is what I do!”

 

I have since recognized that this same response is what I often get from God.

 

I bring Him the broken pieces of my story and ask the impossible. I ask Him to fix it. He smiles and says, “That is what I do.”

 

I ask Him to help me understand what part is mine in someone else’s broken story. He smiles and says, “That is what I do”.

 

I ask Him to empower me to bring Him glory. He smiles and says, “That is what I do.”

 

I ask Him to forgive me for my unbelief and my careless thoughts. He smiles and says, “That is what I DID.”

 

Then I remember that on this side of the cross I can pray from victory and not for victory.

 

I thank Him for reminding me. He smiles and says, “That is what I do.”

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Footsteps in the Sea

Posted on May 28, 2014 by rstaples2013

Faith through aging eyes encounters God when He plants His footsteps in the sea.

We have precious memoires of being able to track the God we love and trust. We are eager to tell of the times when His interventions in our life are so profound that we are invited to share them from the platform.

But none of us are strangers to the stories that don’t tell themselves so easily. The times when, even though we refuse to let our faith crack, doubt pounds relentlessly.

The God we have learned to track in soft wet sand now plants His footprints in the sea.

Often, we can still track Him in many areas of our life, but there is one that simply won’t identify itself as a picture of God’s care.

If we dare to name it, we would say we feel abandoned.

We know how to preach to ourselves. We know how to claim promises. We are tempted to hide our pain because we don’t want to be a discouragement to those whose lives are overflowing with praise.

Maybe we learn something from Jesus’ journey to Gethsemane.

He told most of his disciples to wait while He separated Himself from them.

He brought three trusted friends with Him and poured out His heart to them.

He then went alone to the Father and there encountered the One Who gave Him the power to walk to the cross.

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Read the End of the Book

Posted on May 19, 2014 by rstaples2013

I am preparing for a Memorial Service I did not expect to attend. The person who is being remembered is younger than I am. If I let my natural mind calculate, then she died too early.

I also need to process the trajectory of her story. The earlier pages record a woman who loved and served Jesus. But, for many years now, physical and mental pain has shadowed this earlier experience.

This is not the testimony that we are comfortable presenting.

We want to be able to produce concrete examples of seeing the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

The story of this life leaves us with more questions than answers.

But to Whom do we take our questions?

Why do we scramble for answers?

How do we explain to her children that our faith has not wavered even though, in this story, God has planted His footprints in the sea and rode upon the storm?

How do we acknowledge that our behaviors have consequences without picking up a stone?

Does God need to be defended or is he asking to be trusted?

I remember a day when the husband of the woman, for whom this service is being held, was a leader in preschool ministry with me. This memory is vivid.

We were a group of children’s ministry leaders analyzing the need for preschool Sunday School teachers and finding that we were tragically short. The mood of the group was somber.

UNTIL
The husband of the lady who will be memorialized tonight stood up and with two words reoriented us all:

Read the end of the book: JESUS WINS!!!!

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The Stunning Beauty of Green

Posted on May 14, 2014 by rstaples2013

I am sitting on a lounge chair that can be manipulated into almost any position. It sits on the floor and can be flat or clicked into a chaise lounge (or any other creative design).

I love this chair. From it I can survey our entire back yard but tonight my attention is captured by the green of the grass.

The willow tree was the first to remind me, a few days ago, that our endless winter did not end the hope of spring. The willow is less defined tonight as the other leaf bearing trees have joined in evidencing victory.

Yet, somehow, it is the grass that seems to be singing. The grass is celebrating.

I am celebrating with it.

The katydids are chirping.

I saw a bluebird today.

A bullfrog has nested in my Koi pond.

But, still, the grass is the object of my toast.

I pray that my life can be an announcement that winter, however, long and brutal, will retreat with the arrival of Spring, whose power no foe can withstand.

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Everyday Awe

Posted on May 12, 2014 by rstaples2013

A hospital visit today has prompted me to search my heart for what I take for granted.

The friend I visited has been an active leader in the Senior Adult Ministry of our church. Health challenges have limited her participation this past year culminating in life threatening surgery and hospitalization these past weeks. But finally, the hope of recovery is a reality and steps of rehabilitation are being taken.

With the excitement of a small child this friend says, “Tomorrow they are going to try me without oxygen and take me out for a ride in a car. They said I could go anywhere I wanted.”

I asked the only possible question, “Where are you going to go?”

Her eyes brightened as she let me in on her choice, “I’m going to the parking lot of our church. I want to drive around and picture what it will be like when I can sit in our usual spot again.” She named the people who sit in her section and added how much they love each other.

Then she reverently added, “I want to see that big cross that faces the road. Before they put that cross up we were able to write our names on it.”

I drive into the parking lot of this church almost everyday. This stunning cross is a part of the landscape where I work. I don’t want to take for granted the environment where I have encountered God.

I don’t want to take breathing for granted.

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A Tribute to Mother-Part 6

Posted on May 9, 2014 by rstaples2013

This is part 6 of a 6 part series entitled, “A Tribute to Mother.”

R is for Relentless Prayers

The one gift to which nothing compares is learning to pray

To God who knows and cares (1 Peter 5:7)

To God whose timing is different than ours. If you’ve been praying for a long time, pray on…

To God for whom nothing is impossible.

I wouldn’t be surprised if a conversation something like this one went on in Heaven.

Angel Gabriel:“Oh, no, another prayer from Mabel asking for a husband for that oldest daughter of hers. If I were God I’d send her a husband just to get a break from these prayers.”

Angel Michael:“I heard that was what God is planning to do.” (One year later)

Angel Gabriel:“These prayers are starting in again from Mabel. Now she wants a second husband for her youngest daughter.”

Angel Michael:“The first one is up here you know.”

R is for relentless prayer.

Thank you for teaching me that when you’re prayers aren’t answered the next thing to do is PRAY!

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A Tribute to Mother-Part 5

Posted on May 7, 2014 by rstaples2013

This is part 5 of a 6 part series entitled, “A Tribute to Mother.”

E is for Encouragement

I was marching in the parade. Wearing Iola High School’s heavy gray wool uniform, white buck shoes and carrying a big tenor saxophone. It was a very special day.

Too bad Mom couldn’t be there to see this. (She would be in Waupaca having her teeth pulled.) It was quite a trip to Waupaca (20 miles)and you always tried to combine two or three reasons to make the trip.

It was very hot. The drums rolled, I recognized the message in the beat and stepped out trying desperately to keep in a straight line with my row. Then, I looked up and there on the corner by the Methodist church stood Mom. One hand clasped over her mouth—the other waving wildly in the air.

Somehow-she made it anyway.

E is for Encouragement

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