The Truth about Fence-Sitting

"The Only Thing Necessary for the Triumph of Evil is that Good Men Do Nothing."

--Edmund Burke

You cannot be against something without being for it's counterpart.

Inaction is, in fact, action.

We cannot, and do not exist in a vaccuum.  When we fail to take action, we, in effect, promote our cause's demise.  

If this sounds random and theoretical, let me give you an example.

I buy my favorite cake.  I can choose to eat it or not to eat it.  If I leave it on the counter for a week, trying to make up my mind about eating it, I have by my inaction chosen to not eat it, for at some point, it becomes inedible. If I eat it, then I cannot have it, too.  (Thus, the famous saying.)

I use this example to illustrate what I feel many of my Christian friends are doing, regarding our current election.  They slam a particular candidate because he is carnal, and in their mind does not represent their moral world view.  So they use many opportunities, whether with humor, sarcasm, or outright character assassination to put that person down.  But they offer no solution.

"Oh, whoa is me, I don't like any of my choices.  So, I will just complain about how broken the system is, and rally my friends around me and we can make jokes and slam candidates (in the most christian way, of course) and live in our bubble."  But we have, in effect, made a choice.  We have allowed evil to triumph.

I believe there is a huge chasm between the two leading candidates, in what they stand for and what they promote.  One is carnal, one is evil.

I see a lot of my friends sharing strong opinions about what they are against.  But they offer no solutions. To them, I have to keep myself from reaching for the caps lock button, and shouting, "OKAY, OKAY, I KNOW WHO YOU ARE AGAINST, BUT WHO ARE YOU FOR??? To pray and then vote according to what they feel is the prompting of the Holy Spirit is their obligation as a citizen and as a Christian. To bash a candidate or a platform without promoting something else, is in effect promoting the counterpart.

I respect people who vote according to their conscience, whether or not their vote ends up counting. There are arguments for and against voting for a third or fourth party candidate.  If you have researched, and prayed, and then voted, well amen.  You are operating in faith and in good conscience.

BUT IF YOU SLAM, MOCK, ACCUSE, AND JOKE, AND THEN DO NOT VOTE, I believe it is sin.  I believe you have played into the hands of the pharisaical mindset.  And Jesus never had anything good to say about the Pharisees.  He wasn't politically correct.  He didn't beat around the bush.  He condemned their attitudes and their actions.

But he welcomed the sinners.  He even ate with them.  He granted mercy to the woman caught in the act of adultery.  He praised a woman with a sordid past for her broken and contrite spirit.  He healed the demoniac.  He touched the unclean.

"The difference between Trump and Clinton is that Trump is a 'Sampson' (repentant)  and Clinton is a 'Jezebel' (unrepentant).  God used Sampson.  He never used Jezebel." --Lance Wallnau (paraphrased)

I truly believe God is using the present political events to humble a man to be used for Kingdom purposes.  Don't miss it, Church.  Don't shoot our soldiers when God is using the circumstance to show His glory.

You have influence.  Your opinion matters.  Don't squander it.  Pray, pray, pray.  Then speak life.

And vote.

This is Only a Test

Well better late than never to the FMF party.  Now it's Saturday, and it's been quite a week, with a pesky demon-looking hurricane named Matthew glaring at us, horrible videos of vulgar talk and treatment of women, and the normal trials of balancing family and a business run from home.  Let's just throw in adoption, and culture, and teachers conferences, and teenage hormones. Makes for a really nice test, doesn't it?  

Test.

This is a test.  This is only a test.  If this were a true emergency you would be directed to...well, can't remember where we would be directed to, but it sounded official and important.

Yes, I remember the blood-curdling sound announcing the test of the Emergency Broadcast System.  There were always mixed reactions to that sound.  Frustration that our show was interrupted.  Back before the comfort of DVR, whatever was blocked during the test was gone forever.  But amid our frustration was a sense of awe, knowing that if it were a true emergency, someone somewhere in some official place had a plan.  And there was always a sense of relief being assured that it was only a test.  Not a true emergency.

Life lesson there, glaring at me.

Had quite a few tests this week.  Some I passed, others, well, let's just say the jury is out.  May have to retake them.  

There was the customer who rudely insisted that we pay for new kitchen hardware because her husband didn't like her selection, and now it's "only fair" that we eat the cost of her change in plans. (Other hardware is not returnable now.)  To the tune of $200.  Part of me wants to tell her where she can put the extra hardware, but that's the test-failing part of me.  The other makes me want to eat the $200, but after I, in no uncertain words, let her know that it's not her right, but the extreme kindness of my heart that makes me even consider doing this.  The voice that said, "Give it to the Lord, He will take care of the results" was weak and not at all audible.

Would have loved to have heard that blood-curdling sound and seen the colorful screen as a reminder.

Or how about just yesterday when I jumped all over my son for walking into a room scraping a large object on the floor just as I was finishing my one hundred and ninety ninth take of a promo video we  were shooting, of course with.deadline.looming.  No screech.  No colored TV screen to remind me.  

Epic fail.

Truth be told, our days are filled with all kinds of tests.  We just don't recognize most of them.  

Will we react in kindness when sarcasm is easier and much more enjoyable?

Will we go the extra mile for someone who in our minds doesn't deserve it?

Will we give when it is hard, and messy, and we are so, so tired?


Most of our days aren't filled with final exams.  Just pop quizzes.  I don't always test well.

How about you?

Just Five Minutes

I am forever losing five minutes.

When I plan my schedule so I can arrive on-time, usually I run about five minutes late. This doesn't work well when your business depends on meeting people in a timely fashion.

The doctor's office, hair stylist, and teacher don't appreciate it much either.

Too often than I care to admit, I am apologizing for being just a "little late."  I try to blame it on traffic lights, or a last-minute phone call.  But the truth was I didn't plan well.

Where do those pesky five minutes disappear to?
It's such a mystery. Or is it?

You see, I like to think I have most everything I do timed.  I know how long it takes to get ready.  My GPS has my trip planned out to the exact minute, figuring in traffic.  No excuse there.  Was it the last minute search for the keys, the water bottle filled last-minute, the extra time spent to have a good hair day?  Too much time surfing the web, checking one more status?

I guess it's probably a mixture of these and a few other things combined.
It doesn't really matter why I run late.  What matters is that I finally build the five minutes into my schedule.  A five minute buffer.  Well, while we're at it, let's just make it ten.

What would happen if I planned better and arrived five minutes early, not just once, but every time?  What would happen to my stress level?  It's not difficult to imagine. I would be a much nicer driver.  Might even take the time to smile at a stranger along the way and say hi.  I could sing in the car instead of white-knuckling the steering wheel.

Wow, five minutes early to everything!  What a refreshing thought!  Often I blame my stress level on having too much required of me, too much to do and not enough time to do it.

Is the problem really not having enough time?  Or is it spending the time unwisely.

I recently read an article about extremely successful people, a list of fourteen ways they think and act differently than the rest of us.  What jumped out at me was that they measure their days in minutes, not half-hour or hour increments. And they schedule those minutes on a calendar that they guide their day with.  Secondly, they valued time over money.  Money, they said, could be lost and gained back. But time, once gone was lost forever.

Is that it?  Is that the big secret that highly successful people have over us regular folks?  How they view time? How they don't waste it?

Because that's something most of us could attain as well.  If we valued each minute instead of squandering them away in five-minute blocks here and there, how would our lives change?

The Bible teaches us to number our days, because it is the one gift we have that can only be spent once.

Now, where did I put my keys?

What Is Your Learning Style?

I'm an auditory learner.

Years ago while homeschooling our children, we all took a “learning styles” quiz.  The purpose was to help find the way our kids learned naturally so that we could better tailor their studies.  

Very interesting.

While most of my kids learned visually or kinesthetically (by doing), I was the audio learner.

What that means is that I run things around in my mind having conversations with myself and others. When I’m upset, I will rehash the conversation over and over, playing hurtful words on repeat.

The positive thing about being "audio" is that I can listen to podcasts, sermons, or other teachings and absorb them well.  Who needs notes? Notes are things you take and then leave them lying around, never to be seen again. The greatest invention ever for me is the audiobook.  If I hear it, I remember it.

So, if I'm reading anything, there also needs to be COMPLETE SILENCE. Because any conversation, music with lyrics, or even random noise will mess with my reading.

Some fun ways you can test yourself to find your learning style.  When you are trying to remember something, do you look up and to the right? (visual learner). Or do you count things on your fingers. I look straight out or down, as if I’m trying to hear it in my mind.

If you needed to remember a list of five things to buy from the grocery store, would you: visualize where they are in the store, or do you see a mental list in your mind?  I actually make a silent rhyme out of them.  As I find each item in the store, the rhyme or song changes.  Sounds crazy,but believe it or not, it works.

Another way you can decipher your learning style is by finding out what you say when you are frustrated at someone you love.

I say:  “Listen to me!.”  “You’re not listening!”  “Why do I feel like I am constantly repeating myself?”

Pair this learning style up with a husband that is the very opposite.  He VERY kinesthetic.  Needs to keep moving to learn.  Learns by doing.

Sometimes it’s quite comical.

Him:  “Come here, I need to show you something.”

Me”  I don’t need to go there.  Just tell me.”

Him:  Just take a minute and come here.  See these weeds?  Have the boys pull them after school today as their chore.”

Me:  “Couldn’t you have just told me?”

Or another scenario:

Me:  After you are finished with your project, can you please run to the store, pick up milk and eggs and toothpaste, and then pick up C_____ from the gym?

Him:  Blank stare.  “What, what?”

Yes, just another way husbands and wives, men and women are different.

God sure has a sense of humor, doesn’t He?

A Man's Role: To Protect

It's an amazing privilege to have been married to a pastor.  That was my husband's role for the last 31 years until three weeks ago, when we said good-bye to our church of 16 years. On the day he was honored, his last Sunday, we witnessed person after person sharing beautiful stories of how he had touched their lives.  It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times.  He and I were a wreck.  It was like being a part of a memorial service without anyone having died.  Both beautiful and heart-wrenching.

We both agreed later we didn't realize our hearts could feel so broken and so full at the same time.

I have watched his pastor's heart grow over the years, until it was sometimes hard to separate the pastor, from the husband, from the father, from the friend. And this has led to some misunderstandings, and sometimes hard feelings.

How do you separate roles when you are pastor to your parents, your wife, your kids, your friends? How do you show them you love them uniquely, yet need to shepherd their souls at the same time?

My kids have taken turns through the years accusing him of not caring.  Through their eyes they could only see that he wanted to be their pastor, not their dad.  Too many rules (in their eyes).  Being asked how their walk with God was going, if they had read their Bibles and prayed.  Why did they have to go to church all the time?

And when you are husband/dad/son/friend and pastor, it makes you prime target for those who love you most to see you at your weakest moments.  Because he was never perfect, and yet never claimed to be, yet he had to stand before us week after week and proclaim from the pulpit a message he had prepared and prayed over for many hours.

And yet, he has truly loved us all with a deep love that isn't always visible at first glance.

Last year we had watched a wonderful video series on marriage, and the speaker talked about differences between husbands and wives, men and women. And even though we had heard many messages on marriage, this one was very eye-opening for us.

He said that a man was very different from a woman in that his deep instinct was to protect his family.  He would give his life for his wife and kids without thinking.

So, I asked my husband if this was true for him.  His reply?  "In a heartbeat."

It's a lot easier to forgive minor trespasses in a husband or dad when you realize that the one who can drive you to the deepest part of crazy in a given minute, would also give his life for you in a heartbeat.


Selah.

The Rest of the Story

I awake while it is yet dark and am now preparing food for all of my maidservants.  Yes, it's a tough life, but such is the load all of us Proverbs 31 women must bare.

And here is the rest of the story.

Oh, I'm up, but it's more or less facing the dirty dishes from last night, when all of us were literally too exhausted to even try.  And I already want to choke a little dog, who couldn't possibly be bothered this morning to face the 95 percent humidity and itchy grass outside to do her business, who left me a little present on my newish family room rug.  It wasn't even the rug by the door, which is somewhat excusable.  And she is now sleeping in my son's bed, all comfy and cozy.  Do I sneak in the room, choke her just a little, shove her nose in the wet spot and shame her all the way to her not as cozy and comfy crate?  Or do I just murmur about whether or not dog choking is ethical in the early morning hours and clean it up.

And then there is the highly emotional subject of coffee.  Do I drink the small pot of coffee that was all I could manage for my maid servants with the remaining coffee grounds, and brave the humidity and itchy grass and trek to the nearest grocery store for more?  Or do I just sip on my day-old, microwaved cup so as to save enough for the hubs?  And do I use the last of the half and half, or suffer through milk in my coffee and share?

These life-altering decisions are already facing me today, and it's not even light out.  Because I really do want to wake a little naughty dog and choke her just a little.  And I really do want the coffee.  And the half and half.  And I really do want to rattle the dishes while I unload and load the dishwasher, because all of the sleeping people in the house could have helped with them last night.

And then I read today's prompt word, "REST."

Darn.

My mental "To-Do" list wants to voraciously argue with that word.  Because who has time for that, really?  And yet, I know that yesterday's crazy, hard day has left us all a little weary.

Even a naughty dog. (So many bugs and lizards needed immediate attention.)
Even tired, sleeping people.
Even me.

So, I sit here, drinking yesterday's coffee, with only half of the remaining half and half in it. And I contemplate how I can do rest today.

Because we all need it.  And my Heavenly Father, not only allows it, He recommends it.

"Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls." (Matthew 11:28-29 NLT)

The Foggy Road

Have you ever had a surge of emotions so profound, your immediate reaction was to break down and cry?  You can’t really describe it to someone at the time.  They want to know if you’re sad, or lonely, or whatever. And you shake your head no, but the words aren’t there yet.  You haven’t had the time to process it enough to give the huge feelings the luxury of words.

That was me, recently.

We had just finished our church business meeting on a Sunday evening, a meeting to elect our new senior pastor, one who would step into the role my husband had held for the past sixteen years.  It was a joyous occasion. He and his family had been with us serving as youth pastors the entire time.  My husband had helped mentor him, and it was our hope that he and his family would step in and take our place leading this amazing group of people in a small town in the heart of Central Florida.  

It was the culmination of a plan we had been talking about, praying about, thinking about for over a year.  Our assignment here was finished, and we knew it was time to pass the torch and run in a new direction.  

Our friend had shared his heart and vision beautifully.  Our people were in full unity.  He had gone into the back room with his wife and five kids to wait while the ballots were cast.  We all checked yes on the small slips of paper, and within minutes the news came that indeed, he had been unanimously elected as our church’s new senior pastor.

Someone opened the door to the back room and they poured out, all grins and smiles, as they were proclaimed the new senior pastor and family for our church.  Everyone stood, applauded, and cheered.

And then I broke.  Deep, unattractive sobs.  And It looked bad.  It looked like I wasn’t part of the cheering section.  It looked like I was not rejoicing with them.

But there was something that no one had caught.  Not even me until that moment.  Because our family had poured out of that same door almost exactly sixteen years before.  We had walked into the same sanctuary and stood on the same platform as they announced us the new pastors.  But our kids weren’t all smiles and grins then.  They were shell-shocked.  My oldest daughter was standing and crying, obviously not tears of joy.  Our kids could not see ahead to the amazing years that were before them in this wonderful place.  All they knew is what they would lose.  Their friends, their beautiful new home, their cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents living nearby. Everything they were leaving was in clear view. All they would gain was still hidden.

And I think that’s where I am right now. Standing on an unfamiliar platform.  People are cheering for us, excited for our new venture.  And all I can see are the friends and the family and the home we are saying good-bye to. Yet the One who has brilliantly led us here is still the One who will lead us on the next leg of our journey.

Why wouldn’t He?  

Looking back, the road has not been smooth and straight.  There have been so many twists and turns, hardships, and hurts.  But there have been many, many hilltops as well.  These friends and loved ones had travelled the road with us, the same road that brought us to where we are today.  But the road parts now, and we will travel in one direction, and they another.  

The One who will travel with us the next leg of our journey gave me a little sign that night as we were gathered together praying for this precious new pastor family.  I had just turned on my phone, and sure enough, on cue, in the middle of the prayer it went off.  I grabbed it to quickly turn off the sound, and looked down.

It was my daughter calling.  The one who lived in the same town we were moving to in a few days.  It was a little sign, just for me.  He was still with us.  Still traveling on the new road we were beginning. A road that looks really foggy and dim now. A road that promises new joys, triumphs, ups, downs, twists and turns.  

I would like to think of Him as the Great Chauffeur.  And it’s going to be a glorious ride, because of the One who is behind the wheel.