Year: 2015 (Page 3 of 25)

The Woodcarver

November 23, 2015 / Michele Minehart

I’ve been reading a lot of Parker Palmer (A Hidden Wholeness, The Active Life) and in both of his works, this poem shows up. I love the reflection it takes me on in my own approach to my life – my work, my mothering, even keeping a house.

I hope you enjoy.

Chuang Tzu: “Poem of the Woodcarver”

Khing, the master carver, made a bell stand
Of precious wood. When it was finished,
All who saw it were astounded. They said it must be
The work of spirits.
The Prince of Lu said to the master carver:
“What is your secret?”

Khing replied: “I am only a workman:
I have no secret. There is only this:
When I began to think about the work you commanded
I guarded my spirit, did not expend it
On trifles, that were not to the point.
I fasted in order to set
My heart at rest.
After three days fasting,
I had forgotten gain and success.
After five days
I had forgotten praise or criticism.
After seven days
I had forgotten my body
With all its limbs.

“By this time all thought of your Highness
And of the court had faded away.
All that might distract me from the work
Had vanished.
I was collected in the single thought
Of the bell stand.

“Then I went to the forest
To see the trees in their own natural state.
When the right tree appeared before my eyes,
The bell stand also appeared in it, clearly, beyond doubt.
All I had to do was to put forth my hand
and begin.

“If I had not met this particular tree
There would have been
No bell stand at all.

“What happened?
My own collected thought
Encountered the hidden potential in the wood;
From this live encounter came the work
Which you ascribe to the spirits.”

Hitchhikers, the News and Normal

November 20, 2015 / Michele Minehart

When JJ and I were expecting the last baby, we were to deliver at a hospital downtown Dayton, where JJ had not previously visited. I requested a practice route, in fear I might be a tad busy laboring to give directions when the time came. So we drove to the hospital, up the ramp where I pointed to the parking garage, and back down again, headed to Thai 9. Just a typical date night for pregnant people, yes?

While at the stoplight, a gentlemen knocked on our window and explained he had just been released but no one was available to pick him up from the hospital. He had been treated for internal bleeding and didn’t feel he had the strength to walk the 3 blocks home and asked for a ride.

We, the small town people, did not know what to do. We looked at each other with eyebrows raised and came to a consensus of “Ummm….” Finally, in an effort to ensure safety, JJ asked the guy to show him he had nothing in his pockets and invited him to get in the back seat. JJ pointed out how extremely pregnant I was, and drove him the 3 blocks.

Later, we discussed this course of action. It was my first hitchhiking adventure and JJ’s first, if not ever, than at least with impregnated wife in tow. Did we feel safe? Should we have done it? What could have happened?

I explained that, for the most part, I felt fine with it. First, because we were driving the Pilot, which had withstood a mighty hailstorm, yet wasn’t valuable enough for the insurance company to fix, so we drive it around looking like a golfball. Clearly the dude was not going for a hijacking.

Next, I brought up the fact that the only hitchhiking stories we ever hear about tend to be the ones which go wrong. Hundreds and thousands of people offer rides to strangers every day and it never makes the nightly news. Why? Because it’s not newsworthy. Nothing happened. Two (or more) people rode in the same car and they happened to not know each other prior to the car ride. How does that change people’s lives? It doesn’t. You can’t put an exclamation point on that story.

Fear grabs hold of us when we believe headlines are the only indication of our reality. The news is not a gauge of our normal lives, it’s a reflection of the abnormal things that happen in a given period of time. News is the exception to the rule. No one wrote a press release when your car started this morning. You didn’t update your status when the shower was warm or that you ate a bowl of your favorite cereal.

There’s a real danger in living by the fear established through a highlight reel – not in the dangers it describes, but in the kind of life it will lead us toward. You become addicted to playing out what could happen, and we live in a world with endless possibilities. That internal game can suffocate you if you’re not careful.

There’s a healthy place for fear, as Inside Out described. But don’t let it drive the bus. Don’t believe it’s the only way to see things. You can exercise common sense without making everyone the enemy.

Called to an Apron

November 19, 2015 / Michele Minehart

Originally published November, 2013

Last night while JJ was bathing the baby, I recalled one of my favorite memories from serving the church. On the last night of our mission trip to Mexico, one of the adults on the trip washed the feet of his high school aged son. I was supposed to be the leader of the trip, and there I was, hiccuping back my tears. (Let’s be fair: everyone was crying. It was the last night of the trip, we were inspired from the work and teaching, and dead tired. They probably had Michael W. Smith playing in the background.)

Why is it when one washes a 4-month-old, it’s called parenting, but when the feet are 16 years old, it becomes servanthood?

Not to take away from the service of rearing small children – I do this daily, and I liken it to service. But I’ve never cried at bath time – at least, not over the power of the moment of washing my children.

Perhaps service becomes more powerful when we do something for those who could do it for themselves.

“Service”generally gets paired with those who need help – we feed the hungry, educate the poor, provide clothes and medicine for the sick. These are good things and we need to continue to do them – out of respect for humanity, following the example of Jesus, under the command of God to live justly and have mercy.

But I might not categorize these as service. These are alms, caring for those who Jesus holds dear, the least of these.

When Jesus talks about becoming a servant, he’s washing the feet of grown, capable men. And not just men who want the best for him – he’s washing the feet of his betrayer.

In our culture, we value the power of the pulled bootstrap. We want self-sufficiency and productivity. One of my goals as a parent is raise contributing members of society – and these are not bad things. But I’m not sure they were the goal or example of Jesus.

The 5-year-old is now in some sort of laziness stage, asking us to do all kinds of tasks that he has been doing for years – getting a glass of water, retrieving his socks from the drawer, putting away toys. My response sometimes is frustration – do it yourself, child! I wonder, though, if the example set before me in John 13 is put on the apron and serve. To live an example that I will serve those who are capable because I love them.

We worry about this kind of service, probably out of fear that we’re being taken advantage of – a power struggle. I heard a message by Jonathan Martin where he said, “We’re all about being a servant until someone starts treating us like one.” That’s our fear: that people use our service as an excuse to lower our status. Our hard-earned climb.

But the entire story of the upper room began with, “Jesus knew that the Father had put him in complete charge of everything, that he came from God and was on his way back to God. So he got up from the supper table, set aside his robe, and put on an apron.”(John 13:3). It ends with the command, “If you understand what I’m telling you, act like it – and live a blessed life.”

Year: 2015 (Page 3 of 25)

The Woodcarver

Hitchhikers, the News and Normal

Called to an Apron

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