No More Piggybacks

Remember as a kid when you played with your friends and gave each other piggyback rides? Of course, it always helped to play with a friend who was bigger than you so they would be the ones doing the carrying!

I was reminded of this recently as I read about King Hezekiah and his gratitude for what the Lord was doing for him. In Isaiah 38:19, it reads, “Each generation can make known your faithfulness to the next.” When I read that, I wrote the following in my journal: “I desperately want to pass along a legacy of faith to future generations. My children have to develop their own walk of faith and not piggyback on mine. While I want them to know what the Lord has done for me and see His hand in all our lives up to this point, they have to write their own faith narrative. God was working in our family for an unknown number of generations, building a history of belief in all of us, and I marvel at how blessed I am to now have my own legacy of faith.”

It’s true; I have a substantial amount of genealogical information about my family, and as far back as we know, we are a people of faith.  But my children can’t inherit their faith in the same way they claim the family’s brown eyes or short stature. They have to find their own way. 

The bottom line is this: I can accept Isaiah’s charge to make sure my children know about God’s faithfulness in my life. I can do my part to tell them the stories of ways He has guided me, answered my prayers, provided for me. And I can pass along the tales I heard my parents and grandparents tell about God’s faithfulness, passing the baton to the next generation.

Copyright © 2012

Holding Hands

Who can ever understand the way our minds hold onto seemingly small things and turn them into long-term memories? I recently recalled an incident when I was probably three or four, but the image is still vivid today.

My family had driven to church, and I was walking through the doors of the church beside my daddy, holding his large hand with my tiny one. Maybe he stopped to open the church door ~ I don’t know why we unclasped hands. But I was still beside him, so I felt secure in his presence, even though I wasn’t physically connected to him. We continued down the hall, and from my vantage point, the view consisted mostly of other people’s knees! I was just following the flow of traffic, walking beside my daddy. I didn’t have to know where I was going because Daddy knew the way, and I was with him.

As the flow of people increased, so did my anxiety, so I reached up and grabbed Daddy’s hand for security. I was happy in my own little world until I happened to look up into Daddy’s face, and it was the face of another man from our church! I let go of his hand and panicked, looking everywhere for the face that was most familiar to me, the one I knew I trusted. This man wasn’t unsafe or bad ~ he just wasn’t my daddy!

Fortunately, Daddy was nearby, and I ran over and grabbed his hand and continued down the hall, heart pounding, feeling safe once more.

So I ask you: why would my four-year-old brain remember that small incident that probably only lasted for five minutes of my life? Perhaps it lodged in my mind because it illustrates some key principles.

We all need security; everyone is grasping for something to hold onto that makes them feel safe and connected. And there are lots of choices: people, money, possessions, jobs and careers, our children, our church, an educational degree, investments . . . the list goes on to include things that many find comforting. What gives you that sense of security you long for?

Challenge question: ask yourself if the thing or person you cling to for security has the ability to keep you safe.

The little girl I described had grabbed onto something nearby that she thought was safe. But she didn’t look above her normal eye level to confirm the source of her security. Once she looked into the eyes of her protector, she saw a stranger ~ not the daddy who loved her.

Make sure you hold hands with the One who can keep you safe . . . who knows and loves you . . . who knows the Way even when you don’t. If you can’t find Him, ask me and I’ll take you to Him.

The Fear of Man

“The fear of man is a snare, but the one who trusts in the Lord is protected.”

(Proverbs 29:25)

This verse in Proverbs describes many of us to perfection. When we spend our time and energy worrying about what others think of us, or being afraid of offending someone, it can definitely become a snare. True, we may have legitimate concerns about being offensive to someone; it is not wrong to be careful how we treat others. But most of us take it too far, and instead of just being circumspect or sensitive to others, we obsess about how people view us.

I have been reminded of this “fear of man” several times over the last few days in random conversations with other people.

“She asked me what I thought, and I was afraid to tell her the truth.”

“They dropped in unexpectedly, and I was so embarrassed at how the house looked.”

“She asked me if I was offended at what she said, but I felt awkward to tell her yes, it bothered me.”

“I hated to admit to him that I didn’t keep my yard looking as nice as his, so I pretended I was a lawn-mowing freak too!”

“She was horrified that anyone would let their child do that, so I pretended it bothered me, too.”

Responding in love to someone else is always appropriate. But I want to learn to recognize the difference between placating and dishonesty. The fear of man described in Proverbs speaks to the fear that causes us to be too concerned over what others think, a fear that can control our lives. Rightfully, it is called a “snare” for a reason. A person or animal caught in a trap has lost their freedom. There is pain, discomfort, no freedom of movement, no sense of security.

I want to learn how to live, walk, and talk with honesty and integrity, not afraid of what others think, but able to express myself with tact and humility.

Lent Unplugged

I can tell you the exact moment I realized I had left my laptop computer in Dallas: it was the moment I unloaded everything from the car back at home and realized it was missing! Folks who know me well know that I rarely go anywhere without all my “devices.” I don’t mind wearing clothes that are several seasons old, or driving a car I’ve had for almost a decade, as long as I have my computer, iPhone, and more recently, the use of an iPad as well. I stay connected through all those pieces of equipment, and always feel a little lost without them. So even though I never opened my Mac during my entire trip to Dallas, I had it nearby just in case, thank you very much!

In my hurry to load my car for the return trip home, however, I left my Mac and iPad in the computer case in the spare bedroom where I stayed at my son and daughter-in-law’s house. While that would not be earthshaking to most people, my stomach clenched when I realized Mac was 360 miles away. A phone call to Dallas confirmed it was, indeed, at the house, and they promised to ship it overnight to me right away.

I was off work for Spring Break, so there was nothing I really desperately needed to do on my computer, but I suddenly felt lost and confused.  From the time I left Dallas until the time my Mac was finally in my hands again was about 3 ½ days. During those days, I went through typical stages of withdrawal similar to someone who has stopped smoking, or given up caffeine. I had a headache. I couldn’t concentrate. I didn’t know what to do with myself, and everything I started to do reminded me of something I needed (wanted?) to do on my computer. I felt disoriented. I felt a desperate longing to sit at my computer once again. In short, I realized how much I was addicted to it!

You can laugh, and if you know me well you probably already have! It sounds comical, but I realized it wasn’t really a laughing matter, and I was actually thankful for the time to get in reality about how out of proportion my dependence on this gadget had become.

We are in the season of the year when many in the Christian community observe Lent. Although it varies from one body of believers to another, many view it as a time of consecrating themselves by “doing without” something they would normally enjoy, and instead offer more devotion to the Lord. Christians who “fast” from something they normally do—whether it’s giving up chocolate, alcohol, Facebook, Starbucks, or anything else—have the opportunity to get a balanced perspective on the things that have become important in their lives. If one has a very difficult time of withdrawal, as I did, that is a clue that the person, thing, or activity has become ‘way too important.

The Bible speaks in both Old and New Testaments about idols. We might call them addictions in the 21^st Century. Things sometimes become too important to us, out of proportion to everything else in our world, and we find that we are actually worshipping those things, much as the ancient Israelites turned to idols for comfort and satisfaction instead of looking to their God.

Regardless of what we call them, the things we have become dependent on (to the point that we are uncomfortable doing without them) could point us to some self-examination. Moderation is key. Balance is healthy. As you examine your routine and your daily behaviors, what are some areas where you could fast for a period of time in order to regain perspective? Whether you do it as a part of the Lenten season or just simply to cleanse your mind and body and soul, it can be refreshing to exercise self-discipline over some area of your life you realize is out of control.

I did not plan to give up daily computer activity for Lent. But the Lord took the opportunity to point me to an area where I lacked discipline, and gave me a glimpse into enjoyable, meaningful things each day without being connected to the internet . . . I’m thankful for my Mac Fast!