Lord, Teach Us To Number Our (Mon)days

I hate Mondays. Most people do. We despise the Monday morning alarm that propels us into another week of work. I, on the other hand, am at home on Mondays. Sunday is my biggest day of the week, with lots of stress, people, responsibilities, etc. And being the introvert that I am, I am drained and useless by bedtime on Sunday night. On Monday morning I really would like to have some free, quiet, relaxing time. But I don't get it. At 7:00 AM I hear the pitter-patter of little feet descending the stairs. And here goes another day. Get Easton out of bed. Feed 2 kids breakfast. Fit in a bath for the kids. Take a quick shower during Easton's morning nap. Try to wash, dry and fold 6 loads of laundry. Maybe do something fun with the kids so we don't go crazy. Make dinner. Bed time. Pay some bills and balance the checkbook. Then get ready for my work week. Ugh.

So yesterday morning I was brushing my teeth, feeling grumpy, and thinking about how when Olivia goes to school we will have to get up even earlier. Every day. Great. Less sleep is just what I need.

And then it hit me. She goes to kindergarten next August. And while it will be nice in many ways, our carefree, have fun, playing paper dolls, painting, watching cartoons in our pajamas until 10 AM days will be gone . . . forever. We will only have summer breaks and a few hours after school. And the free time in those hours will continue to diminish.

While the selfish part of me really wants Mondays all to myself, when I think about it, Mondays have allowed for some great memories- lots of trips to the park, Deanna Rose farm, the library, etc.

So I looked at my calendar today. I have 35 more Mondays until life with Olivia changes forever and she climbs into a big yellow bus. My New Year's resolution? 35 great, fun-filled memories with no complaints and no regrets.

"Lord, teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." (Psalm 90:12)

Jesus on the top shelf

I don't have cable or satellite television, so I have to go on vacation to watch cool shows like Pawnstars or American Pickers. But sometimes when I am at home and the kids are not pleading for some animated flick, I catch an episode of Antiques Roadshow. The episode I saw a few weeks ago must have been a special one, because all of the items shown featured the appraiser saying, "this is the nicest one of these that I have ever seen." I remember one item in particular. The guy lived in Texas and brought in a pair of matching black pottery bowls. The appraiser oohed and aahed over their condition, quality, and the really cool glazing technique used. It seems that they were made by Native Americans living in southwest area of the United States. The owner mentioned that he hoped to one day hand them down to his girls- one bowl for each of them. The appraiser said that their real value came from their being a matched set- something he had never seen. Their value as a set? $45,000! The owner was blown away.

Then came the real kicker. The appraiser asked the man where he kept this treasure. "Oh, sitting on top of the china cabinet. We thought they looked nice there."

I am guessing he no longer keeps the bowls sitting out on top of a cabinet. Having learned their true value, they are no longer mere decorations.

I think we do the same thing with the most valuable, irreplaceable items in our lives. We place our kids on the top shelf while we build our careers. We let our friends sit on shelves, and then give our real attention to our favorite friends on television. Sadly, we also let Jesus decorate our lives. If we only could realize his inestimable value . . .

I used to sing a song about this:
Lord You are more precious than silver
Lord You are more costly than gold
Lord You are more beautiful than diamonds
And nothing I desire compares to you.

Knowing Christ & Pen pals

Last Sunday I preached from Philippians 3:10, "I want to know Christ . . ." The power of this verse is in what it affirms- we can know the person of Christ and we do not have to settle for knowledge about Christ. Therein lies the basis for a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. This also defeats the idea that Christianity is just a bunch of religious activity. I love this verse. But it is also difficult.

When I preach I try to imagine the objections. You know, the "yeah, but what about . . ." kind of comments. And I try to deal with them. There is a huge objection or roadblock with this verse and the grand idea behind it. We usually think of personal relationships in terms of our face-to-face encounters. Relationships are built through time together in which we talk to each other. So . . . a relationship with God should equal face time and talking, right? Except that Jesus no longer walks on earth, and neither his Father nor the Spirit have visible bodies. Next, few people have heard the audible voice of God pulsing through their eardrums. And lots of people claim to have heard God's "voice," and many of them are crazy. So "hearing" from God is difficult. So how can I have a relationship with an invisible who tends not to speak very often? My fear is that most people give up before trying.

I tried to address this very quickly in my message, but I am not sure I really "nailed it." So let me try it this way. Somewhere I read a story about a young woman who began writing letters to a sailor, maybe through a military pen pal program. He wrote back, and the two of them exchanged lots of letters. The sailor became enamored with this woman who wrote so beautifully, and when his tour was finally over they arranged a meet-up. But how would they recognize each other? She told him that she would meet him at the dock and she would be wearing a red silk scarf. On the long-awaited day, the sailor disembarked and began looking for his friend. He saw a woman with red silk scarf, but she did not look anything like he imagined. She was rather unattractive. Nevertheless he approached the woman and introduced himself. She replied, "I don't know who you are, but the young woman standing over there by the lamp asked me to stand here wearing her scarf, and if a sailor approached I should direct him to her." She gave him the scarf and he walked to the woman near the lamp, who was as beautiful as he had imagined. Yes, it had been a test and he had passed. They spent time together, married, and lived happily ever after.

Now the story has many levels of meaning, but here is how it applies to knowing Christ. Here is merely one example of thousands of long-distance relationships that develop with no face time and without ever hearing the person's voice. But they are relationships indeed. And the depth of the relationship developed by mere letters increases the anticipation and joy of the eventual meet-up.

Can we do this with God? I can take a journal and write a letter to God. Then I can open my Bible and find hundreds of pages of his "letters" to me- ready for me to read and enjoy as he reveals himself and his thoughts, his likes and dislikes. Then I can write back. And back and forth we go, a kind of pen pal relationship with the God of the universe. In fact, for those saints whom we admire because they seem to really know God and enjoy him, I believe this is how it happened for them. Which helps me understand why they are so excited for heaven, the ultimate meet-up.