Author: Michele Minehart (Page 173 of 311)

40 days and 40 nights

February 21, 2012 / Michele Minehart

I love the season of Lent in some sort of sick, depriving way. Kind of like a long run, I love the feeling of engaging and completing something difficult. But I enjoy the spiritual aspect of it, as well. It’s a season of daily being faced with a choice, being presented constantly with the opportunity to choose Jesus over myself. Every year Lent comes around again, and every year I find myself needing a bit more of that practice.

However, the past several years I’ve encountered some Lenten Stress. What do I give up? What has a grip on me that needs loosening? Where can I sacrifice to identify with the sacrifice of the season? How do I find a sense of balance between challenge and reasonable?

I can start with a few standard areas of examination.

1. Food. I love food. All kinds and lots of it. I’ve realized how much I enjoy food now that my dietary intake has been reduced by nearly an entire food group. That being said, with my gastronomic difficulties, I don’t feel it necessary to add in another reduction. Honestly, my morning cup of coffee is one of the highlights of my day. And though I’d be lying if I said it didn’t cross my mind to give up grains “for Lent”, I think I’d be missing the point to sacrifice to Jesus what has already been sacrificed to my daughter. I’m sure there’s a sort of idolatry there someplace.

2. Facebook. I’ve done this one as well, and it went smooth. I’ve contemplated a FB reduction at other points, but my current state of social solitude doesn’t bode well with a complete cutoff from those I enjoy stalking. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to get any of my news.

3. TV. Seeing as how I watch maybe an hour a week, it’s just not enough of a sacrifice. The thing could disappear until I want to take a Sunday afternoon nap and need a movie to drift off to.

So, here’s my only other nomination:

“A nagging wife is like the drip, drip, drip of a leaky faucet…” (Proverbs 27:15)

It’s one thing to lovingly ask your spouse and children to participate in the upkeep of the home. It’s a new ballgame when those “requests” take the form of sarcasm, a tone with a bite, a belittling of sorts. So I’d like to give up the nagginess altogether. What does that look like?
“Dear, can you please take your bowl to the dishwasher?” Acceptable.

“Is the dishwasher that much further from the countertop where you put your bowl?” Not acceptable.

However, though it’s a nice life adaptation, I’m not sure that fixing my naggy drip keeps completely with the spirit of Lent. It does offer me that choice of Jesus (and those I love) over myself each day, but I feel that there should be more. Perhaps it’s the fact that I can’t join in lament with fellow Lent-giver-uppers about how hard it is to go without (because then I look like a real hag). And if I can’t complain about it, is it really sacrifice? Perhaps it’s just a mid-year New Years Resolution.

So, I have just a few more hours to contemplate what, over the next 40 days, in its absence will help me realize presence.

the widow, the orphan, the prisoner…

February 17, 2012 / Michele Minehart

One of my favorite questions to ask of highly conceptual and lofty ideas is, “but what does that LOOK like?” When Jesus said “Love your neighbor” I was totally the girl in the crowd raising her hand and asking “so, what do you mean by that? Does that mean a casserole or just not getting huffy when their garage door opener triggers ours to open?”

However, I’ve found that if I question some of the directives given, I usually only have to look around me to see how the commands can play out out. So when you hear the commands of caring for the widow, the orphan and the prisoner, I’ve had ringside seats to see what it looks like.

I even have a picture.

Exhibit A:

Before we got married, Husband and I asked Jack & Judy to have dinner with us on a regular basis and gave them permission to ask us the questions that we should be discussing as engaged and newly marrieds. We sought them out not because we were under the impression that they were perfect, but rather that they were normal. They’d raised kids and moved and transitioned jobs and struggled and succeeded and through all of it they were faithful.

As my relationship with them deepened in my time at the church I began to see just how deep their faith drilled down, but more so I learned what it meant to put shoes on it and take it for a walk. Of course they volunteered at the church and met many needs within the walls. But the impression they left on me is how it seeped out into everything they did.

Caring for the widow, the orphan and the prisoner isn’t a hobby but a way of life. Jack’s last position in his career was working for the educational system within the prison. Beyond advocating for them as part of a job description, they became part of a rehabilitation group partnering with recent releases to help them transition back to society, largely with a faith-based support system. Heck, their most recent love in life – Stephanie – is the product of inmate responsibilities.

Then there are the orphans. All 27 (?) of them. One of my favorite stories of Judy’s is how after they’d had their second child and she was gearing up for more, Jack put the brakes on. But she loved children. Actually, Jack corrected her, she loved babies. But they grow up. They came to an agreement that, I believe, changed the lives of many children. They fostered. They brought in babies of all makes and models, in conditions beyond fathom, and loved them. They gave them a safe place and exposed them to a loving home. They never adopted, but I believe in the simple act of bringing them in they helped to set a standard for these children that good homes exist and they are worthy of it. Perhaps in some way it began to chisel away at a disastrous cycle. They didn’t set out to become heros, but God can use someone’s love of rocking a newborn for kingdom purposes. And he’ll seriously bless a woman who willingly enters that timeframe of limited sleep (at least, I believe so).

And then there’s the widows. Quite honestly, I’m not sure I’ve seen J&J show up for an event alone. They were the speed dial setting for more than one older person in our church – even those with children still involved in their lives. But if Judy was going to a circle group, she was picking up Maxine. If Jack is heading to church, Bill was in the passenger seat. Something as simple as presence fulfill God’s mandate; it reminds us that we’re not alone, especially in what has become lonely years for many.

Recently in conversation I shared with Husband who inspired I was by Jack & Judy’s example in how they lived out God’s desire for loving people. I hope that loving those close to God’s heart becomes a pattern in my life, not just another project to complete.

sharing the platform

February 13, 2012 / Michele Minehart

If I had about 40 extra hours in my day with childcare provided, I would not be short on ways to spend my time. My mental list includes a bit more sewing, reading and – to be honest – Bible study. Not in the Kay Arther kind of way, though I’m sure that’s fine. But I just have a lot of questions that I’d love to spend time looking at. Such as, you say?

One of them is how geography works within the greater Story. Any good literature teacher will tell you that “setting” is a key component to story (and as I write that, I’m prone to wonder what Don Miller would chime in as well). It’s an element often not discussed when we dig out a passage, but one I think that if pondered, would give the Bible a bit more colour (see the Brittish spelling? That’s in honour of Adele. I dreamt in her accent after watching the pre-Grammy special on her).

For example, Egypt and Assyria. They take on almost human properties – both ladies, I believe – who appear in Israel’s growth process. Egypt is the land of escape and bondage. There seems to be a tendency that when life is difficult in Israel – like, say, a famine – Egypt always has what’s needed to survive. There’s a real shine to what she has going on. Like baby weight is never an issue and she wears hoop earrings to the grocery store. “Come on over,” she prrrrs, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

But Israel always looses herself there. The shine and sparkle lead to entrapment. She becomes a slave to it all and looses her freedom to decide. Israel eventually ends up on Dr. Phil, where God confronts her and says, “You have the power to decide on your next tomorrow.” And with the boost, she finally escapes to freedom again, after a makover in the Red Sea.

Then there’s Assyria. She shows up a bit more in the Prophets, which would be my first land of more study if the extra hours really did show up. But when Assyria makes her presence known, it’s typically because Israel got all huffy about God and decided to do things on her own. Like a teenager who keeps coming home after curfew, despite numerous warnings from parents that a) you should obey and b) it’s not a wise idea because nothing good happens after 11, she suddenly finds herself in jail after a night of joyriding. And Assyria is the one who puts her under lock-and-key. Assyria also takes on that arch nemesis feel, boasting about how now that Israel is doing time, Assyria will go and steal her boyfriend. (Yes, this analogy is veering dangerously close to The Young and the Restless). Finally, after enough tears and letters, God arrives, pays the bail, and Israel gets to go home, but her head hangs a little low, her swagger a little muted.

These characters of Egypt and Assyria simply play the role that God put them in. No more that we can blame Edward Norton for taking on creepy-guy roles like in Fear, can we blame these characters for guiding the story of Israel. But in general, the attitude toward these folks is one of disgust. Because they’ve not really been alleys in the past, they don’t make the Israel’s friend list. So it goes for those who build in our sanctification rather than our confidence boosting.

But hidden away in the prophet Isaiah (20:24-45), we read: On that Day, Israel will take its place alongside Egypt and Assyria, sharing the blessing from the center. God-of-the-Angel-Armies, who blessed Israel, will generously bless them all: “Blessed be Egypt, my people! … Blessed by Assyria, work of my hands! … Blessed be Israel, my heritage!”

In the day we seem to be leaning toward, God’s going to share with the characters who haven’t always rubbed us the right way. When we arrive, we won’t be alone on the podium. Those competitors who were racing alongside, perhaps even taunting us or trash talking along the way, will get to share in our glory.

Jesus spoke so much about “love your enemy” and it’s one of those tough mandates that we enjoy more in theory than in practice. I think the tendency is to leave it other-worldly. Like when someone cuts you off in traffic and, from the safety of your own car, you just “let” them go first. But the tough stuff of loving people who rub you the wrong way, or simply don’t help you when you find yourself in a jam, those are the enemies that often don’t get love. We might be able to rustle up some apathy, but love?

But if we can’t love them now, what makes us think we’ll do any better when we share space with them in heaven? God doesn’t just rid of us challenges in the celestial world. Heaven is seeming more to me as the place where we’ve finally “arrived.” Today is another day that we’re journeying toward What Is To Come. And Jesus made it clear that today is another day that we can live in the ways he’s shown us. It’s time to let go of the fact that “that guy” or “She” has done something less than edifying to you and realize that they will share the kingdom as well. How will you love them for it?

Author: Michele Minehart (Page 173 of 311)

40 days and 40 nights

the widow, the orphan, the prisoner…

sharing the platform

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