Winter memories. December memories. Part of the fun of Christmastime.

            During the 1989 winter, Louise Gore and I drove our two high school seniors to Searcy, Arkansas to Harding Christian University’s campus. I phoned Arkansas relatives for a weather report, and my 90-year-old grandmother, who hadn’t been outdoors in weeks, answered, “Hon, the weather’s fine.”

By the time we reached Searcy, thick ice had formed everywhere. On a very steep decline, we inched into town taking a suggested shortcut. We later heard from the locals that we had come into town on the worst choice road. We made our icy descent into town from a steep road that had a winter name of “Suicide Hill.” One day later, travel was still treacherous, the highways glazed like a doughnut. As we traveled homeward on “black ice,” we passed numerous cars in ditches. With all of us having tense shoulders, we didn’t even make it to the Arkansas state line. We stopped our trip, and a clerk rented us her last motel room in Prescott, Ark.

Every two hours, night and day, I started my vehicle to keep the weak battery charged. We’d already had to jump it off one morning of the trip. No. It wasn’t a Die Hard brand. 

Meanwhile, back at our South Texas home, outdoor temperatures hovered around six degrees. Weighted by ice, tree limbs broke. Electric power ceased. Warm houses grew cold. With no electricity, my husband and teen daughter had the fireplace roaring and camped out nearby.

Our fireplace had a swing arm to hold a cooking pot. After many cold PB & J sandwiches, they wanted to eat something hot, so they combined culinary skills and cooked dried beans. They couldn’t find my all-metal cooking pot, so they used a teakettle that didn’t have any plastic parts. Never having cooked pintos before, they washed a two-pound-bag of beans, added water and salt, and shoved the lid onto the medium sized kettle.

As the blazing fireplace heated the metal bottom, the beans began to absorb water and swell. For about four hours, the growing beans pulsed out the spout of the teakettle. They formed a sort of cooking brigade. Add water. Catch beans. Add water. Catch beans. 

When the weather began to warm and folk began to stir, neighbors Myra and Elton invited hubby and daughter to dinner. They didn’t go empty handed. They had plenty of fresh mesquite-smoked beans. We still laugh about the miracle multiplying beans.

During another South Texas ice storm, temperatures skidded beneath the 32 mark. I was at home for that freeze, and the view out my kitchen window fascinated me. Six-inch icicles hung from the roofline, but pressed against the window panes were three red roses, the climbing kind.

The disparity of the icicles and red roses prompted thoughts about a Bible passage. God said through the prophet Isaiah, “Come now, let us reason together,” says the Lord: “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow, though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool” (Isaiah 1:18).  

During Advent, we once again enact awaiting a Savior. One, who can scrub the darkness from a soul and turn it white as snow. We await the arrival of one who delivers on all his promises.

God’s reaches through any kind of inclement weather or stained life to provide care and healing. He sometimes sends fresh reminders in icicles and roses.

Hunger for Humility (Week 49): “Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him!” (Isaiah 30:18).

            Cathy Messecar welcomes comments at writecat@consolidated.net

Meek Means?

 

“Blessed are the debonair for they shall inherit the earth.” When the French translated the third beatitude that is how they rendered, “Blessed are the meek.”

            “Debonair” in English means pleasant manners, courteous and gracious. Derived from Old French it means “of good disposition.” The understanding of “meek” remains vital to living out “meek.” What does it really mean? The dictionary defines meek as “humble, patient, or submissive” also as “overly patient; spiritless; tame.” That’s a bit on the wimpy side for my tastes.   

I much prefer many preachers’ definition of “meek” as “power under control.” Moses fits that description—a solid leader, a man who went before kings, a family man. Moses had his faults, but he was viewed as a “very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth” (Numbers 12:3). Jesus described himself as “meek,” and he lived a perfect life, so I don’t see the word meaning “spiritless” in any way.

For today’s Christian, one of the characteristics of a “meek” person means that they remain teachable. When instructed they readily listen to learn. The arrogant, when corrected, might reply with a flippant answer of “Whatever.” Besides not being courteous, that answer reveals an unwillingness to learn, whether it be performing a task or changing a behavior.

            My friend Jan Tickner prays for self-reliant people to “come to the end of themselves.” That prayer opens the door to a university of “higher” learning, where a person recognizes his or her own faults. The, that prayer becomes a launching pad to learn better living habits from others and from the Lord.

            Jesus defined “meek” when he said about himself, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” He then said, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle [meek] and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light" (Matthew 11:28-30).

            Jesus invites those who have tired of trying to make it on their own to team up with him, and he is never too proud to step alongside the most unworthy person on earth. He only needs an invitation.

            Imagine yourself in a harness alone and you’re struggling to pull all your burdens against the grade of a hill. Now imagine Jesus slipping the leather straps of the same harness over his shoulders and pulling with you. Shoulder to shoulder, Jesus and you, in sync. Together, you make progress, and you have an all wisdom and compassionate person pulling with you. Now that’s power under control.

The word “debonair” and Jesus seem not to belong in the same sentence. However, when we consider that the word defines the Teacher who will come alongside and help all of us come to the end of ourselves, then Jesus is debonair.

            Hunger for Humility (Week 44): "Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.” (Revelation 3:20 NLT)

            Cathy Messecar welcomes comments at www.cathymessecar.com

The Priest and Leprosy in MId-1800s

The ten-square-mile Makanalua Peninsula juts into the Pacific below the world's highest sea cliffs. An internet site about the island says, “It's been blessed by nature's grandeur and cursed by humanity's ignorance and fear.” To this day, it remains home to forty elderly patients sent there many years ago because they contracted Hansen’s disease, the proper term for leprosy. At least one humble priest learned contentment there as he served those less fortunate.  

     This week, we look at rule number fourteen from Jeremy Taylor’s (1613-1667) nineteen ways to live humbly. He encouraged all to rejoice when others rise to higher positions or achievements:  “Be content that he should be employed, and thou laid by as unprofitable; his sentence approved, thine rejected; he be preferred, and thou fixed in a low employment.” Key words in this rule about humility are “be content.” The longer I live, the more I realize that life goes downhill and uphill again. This pattern repeats throughout life, challenging us to remain contented even if others receive seemingly better assignments from God or man.

     If we can focus on helping others instead of our misfortunes, it’s easier to be content. I recommend renting or buying the movie “Molokai: the Story of Father Damien” (available on Amazon) or reading the book.  

     In 1865, leprosy plagued those living in Honolulu, and officials shipped the ill to the desolate Makanalua Peninsula. There, they dwelt in makeshift shelters and caves, living with the bare necessities of life. Seven years later, Father Damien volunteered to go and help knowing that he might contract the disease. Instructed not to touch the diseased, he purposefully touched them as he fed and cared for them.

     For fifteen years, he labored almost single handedly to alleviate suffering. He pled for supplies and extra help, but few had the heart to face the constant sorrows and weary work. King Kamehameha V brought into law the “Act to Prevent the Spread of Leprosy.” About 8,000, between the years of 1865 and 1969, went to live as exiles on Molokai. Today, about forty aging people, who have the disease (no longer contagious, but some disfigured), have chosen to remain on the island, although they are isolated from most of the world.

     Hansen’s disease is the most misunderstood disease in the world. Myths and ignorance about the disease were rampant in the mid-to-late 1800s when Father Damien volunteered to help. Today, medical science knows that about 95 per cent of the population cannot contract the disease. With proper diagnosis and treatment, it is no longer debilitating. The diseased person remains noninfectious after only a couple of doses of medicine and may remain with family even though treatments last for several years.

     The United States documented only 213 new cases in 2009. The social stigma still exists in most of the world and may be more difficult to deal with than the physical illness.  

     What if the clock turned back to the year of 1876, and a call for volunteers went out to serve the colony of ill. If we had no physical obstacles, would we have the inclination to serve others, supposing that we could contract the disease?

            Jesus gave an upside-down message to those who sought greatness in God’s kingdom. They were to serve. He taught his disciples that they were to approach any with this question on their minds, “How may I serve this person?” We can consistently seek the higher good of others, even though we live within a culture of self-indulgence. Be inspired by Father Damien’s story, who allowed others to ascend to hierarchy as he became lowly in spirit and content to dwell among the lonely and hurting.

     Hunger for Humility (week 40): “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant.” (Matthew 20:26)

     Cathy Messecar welcomes comments at www.cathymessecar.com

God Gaze or Scar Gaze

“Scar Gazing” was the title of a devotional I read in “Power for Today.” Immediately, I was intrigued with how the change of one letter in a common phrase sent me on a different learning path. In that devo, Steven Lemley, co-editor, focused on Apostle Paul’s encouragement to the Philippians where Paul gave an attitude update on himself, “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (3:13-14).

            Dreadful pasts, have poisonous drawing powers beyond our understandings. Why do we return in our minds to hurtful times and replay them again. I think that’s what Lemley had in mind when he dubbed such events as “scar-gazing.” After reading his thoughts, I recalled an Old Testament story, reflecting scar-gazing and moving forward.

            Several times in Israel’s history, they looked back and longed for their former miserable lives. Exodus 14, describes one such scene. God had led the Israelites away from Egypt and out of generational bondage, lasting for over 400 years. He purposefully had Moses cause the hundreds of thousands of people to encamp “between Migdol and the sea.”

            God knew that Pharaoh would think that the Israelites were wandering aimlessly in the desert, and Pharaoh, having his umpteenth change of heart, would order his army to pursue the newly freed slaves. Apparently, the former miracles performed in Egypt were not enough to convince the Egyptians of God’s sovereignty.

            When the Israelites camped beside the sea, fearful and cautious, they looked behind them. I don’t blame them. The past chases us down sometime. They saw all Pharaoh’s six hundred best chariots and all the other chariots bearing down on their encampment. “They were terrified and cried out to the Lord.” They also complained to their leader Moses as they did a bit of scar gazing: “Was it because there were not graves in Egypt that you brought us out into the desert to die? What have you done to us?” Did graves in Egypt suddenly look better than the unknown plans of traveling with God?

            They were “used ruthlessly” as slaves under harsh Egyptian taskmasters (1:14). For goodness sake, only a generation back the Egyptians threw the Israelites’ newborn sons into the Nile River like yesterday’s garbage! Atrocious annihilation! Hadn’t God proved his majestic capabilities? Even so, they chose to look back to their wounded past. Sometimes, what we’ve known seems better than an unknown future.

            Faithful Moses assured the people that God would not abandon them in this current crisis. He told them, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today.” He went on to say they would never see the Egyptians again. He added, “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”

            I love what the Lord God said to them after Moses’ instructions to stand firm and only be still. In seeming contradiction, God said to Moses, “Why are you crying out to me, tell the Israelites to move on.” God instructed Moses to stretch his staff over the sea, and all that “night the Lord drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land.”

            The Israelites found themselves with no seeming escape. They couldn’t physically get to another place, but maybe God was asking more of them. Perhaps he was asking for a heart change, a different mindset. Maybe he was asking for faith-growth – upward to God, to move on in their minds. With God’s rescue from Egypt, evidently he had them in his radar. In addition, they had assurance that God could also move them from fearing and thinking about the Egyptians.  

            I wouldn’t have wanted to be a slave back then, even a rescued slave, but I admit to wishing I could have been present for that night’s unfolding events. The pillar of cloud that had previously led Israel moved and became a barrier between them and the Egyptians. To the enemies, the pillar appeared as blackest night blotting out all. On the other side of the pillar of cloud, fire illuminated the Israelite’s camp.

            Scar-gazing, too much and we drown in past mistakes and sorrows. Blessed is the humble follower, who chooses to God-gaze, imagining future possibilities within his amazing grace.

            Hunger for Humility (Week 39): “But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.” (Hebrews 5:14)

            Cathy Messecar welcomes comments at www.cathymessecar.com

Don't Finagle Conversations

Right before the tornados hit the Dallas area last week my connecting flight left DFW Airport for Nashville, Tennessee. Soon, the winds favorably brought me within the embrace of friends’ arms, John and Beverly. We first met in 2006, and through the convenience of Email, cell phones, Facebook, and blog posts, we’ve kept in touch and become close friends. I spent three nights and days with them while Bev and I worked on a year’s worth of daily devotionals she wrote for cancer patients and family members, and caregivers.

            Later, I listened as Beverly talked with her doctor and described our conversations as “soul searching.” Some of them were. They had to be. You see, Beverly is at the tail end of eight years of fighting abdominal cancer. She’s endured five surgeries and additional stents and ports implanted. After undergoing three FDA approved chemo treatments and five experimental trials, she hopes her efforts will assist in curing her cancer and aid others.

            Without giving you intimate details, allow me to say that Beverly remains one of the brightest, strongest, and most positive women I know. Her humility and reliance on God astounds me. Her honest airing of her feelings refresh me. A female version of Job, even miserable in her skin, she refuses to say God has cursed her. She continually praises him.

            She has lost her hair numerous times, along with her fingernails, eyebrows, and eyelashes. With poise, she has endured indignities for the sake of future cancer patients -- indeed her willingness may save you or someone you love.

            I gave you the background of our friendship and her struggles to assist in introducing Jeremy Taylor’s (1613-1667) sixth rule for living humbly. In the language of his day, “Never speak anything directly tending to thy praise or glory; that is, with the purpose to be commended.”

            Through Beverly, I know exactly what Mr. Taylor wrote about in rule number six. Oftentimes, an opportunity might arise in conversation to spotlight some good deed she has done. However, Beverly needs no attention – no public applause. The heavenly Father knows all her charitable thoughts and deeds, and he generously rewards all who seek his praise alone. She remains content with God’s praise alone.

            How would it feel to go one week without compliments from others? Would you starve for affirmation? Why isn’t it enough for God alone to know about the times we succeed in charity? Yikes, I shudder to think how often I’ve thrown sparkle dust in a conversation about myself, so others would ask about my current works. In “Soul Work: Confessions of a Part-Time Monk,” Professor Randy Harris writes about power play in language. He says that postmodern theologians and philosophers believe that almost anything we say is an attempt at power play, to get the upper hand. He says he will not go that far in his assessment of our conversations. However, he does believe this, “We manipulate people and conversations to come out in a way that is agreeable to us.” Some examples are times that people ask us difficult questions: we answer how we want to, and avoid a direct answer or indictment of ourselves.

            Harris goes on to say, “We manipulate conversations to stroke our egos.” Have you ever tried to move a conversation into an area of your expertise? Alternatively, another example, if you receive a compliment on organizational skills, do you point to a messy area showing the messy flipside of your life? Then the complimentary person feels compelled to build you up by lavishing more kudos on your managerial skills? When receiving a compliment, it’s best to simply say, “Thank you,” and let the compliment float away. At home and in business, it’s sometimes necessary to communicate what we do, but always check your motives, don’t let praise from others be the design of your heart. It’s no wonder that so many Bible scriptures advise “silence.” Jesus reminds those who had ulterior motives, “For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of” (Matthew 12:34).

            My friend Beverly writes about her cancer journey at “John’s Wife,” (Blogspot), not for compliments or applause, instead she writes to help others grace their own turbulent storms. This week pay attention to your conversations. Listen a lot, that alone guarantees less language faux pas.

            Hunger for Humility (15): “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak” (James 1:19).

            Comments welcomeher or at www.cathymessecar.com  

Self-Imagined Greatness

            In last week’s column, I introduced our topic of conversation for 2012 – humility. Last week’s “assignment”: When you enter any room, think of yourself as the least, and look for ways to serve those present. How did you do? Did you find it tough to do? I certainly did.

            We’re embarking on this journey to deeper humility because Jesus called us to be like him, a servant. He set the perfect example and can inspire us to live as he did. One of the ways we’ll do that is to focus every three weeks or so on one of Jeremy Taylor’s (1613-1667) nineteen rules for humble living.

            The privileges you were born into or now have, do ever feel pride rise up because of them? If so, then consider Mr. Taylor’s first rule of living humbly: “Do not think better of yourself because of any outward circumstance that happens to you.” I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth. That’s one way of saying I was well fed but my family wasn’t the wealthiest on our block in Houston, Texas. However, compared to a child in an impoverished country, I had more than enough.  

            Consider some of the implications of Mr. Taylor’s first rule: If you are a whiz at math, do you get credit because your parents got together and created a mathematical genius? If you were born into a royal family, could you boast that personal achievement would eventually put you on the throne?

            Jeremy Taylor uses the example of a horse that can run faster than other horses. Triple Crown winner 1973, Secretariat was such a horse. A lot of circumstances and opportunities combined to put him in winners’ circles. Self-imagined greatness did not make him a winner. Good athletes’ usually have great DNA and opportunities that contribute to their successes, but how fast they run, swim, or swing a tennis racquet isn’t their true make up. The true make up of a pauper or king is on the inside.

            Richard Hagburg in a June 1996 issue of “Fortune” magazine relayed a story that a wealthy executive told him: The executive and his wife stood in line at a driver’s license bureau to get his license renewed. After a rather lengthy wait, the husband exclaimed to his wife, “Don’t they know who I am?”

            His wife replied, “Yeah, you’re a plumber’s son who got lucky.”

            Naaman, a leper, commanded Aram’s army, but pride almost thwarted God’s intended healing for him (2 Kings 5:1-19). Naaman’s wife had a maid, a young Israelite girl, who said, “If only my master would see the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” Through a series of inquiries and letters, Naaman finally found his way to the Prophet Elisha’s home. The commander arrived with gold, silver, chariots, horses, and servants.

            Elisha didn’t even answer the door when this officer arrived; he simply sent a message for him to go take a bath in the Jordan River. Everyone knew -- even foreigners -- that the river wasn’t more than a muddy canal. Naaman had imagined the man of God waving his hand around and making a big commotion as he invoked God’s healing. After hearing the prophet’s instructions, Naaman departed “in a rage.”

            However, a lowly servant displayed common sense. He reasoned with Naaman: if the man of God had asked you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? When Naaman ditched pomp and pride, dipped seven times in the murky Jordan River, that’s when his skin became healthy. When pride rears its ugly head, it always casts a shadow on right thinking.

            A French proverb says, “The surest way to be deceived is to think one’s self more clever than others.” For the next couple of weeks, look backward in examination of your upbringing, and if extra attention, awards, or applause comes your way in the next few weeks, remember Jeremy Taylor’s rule for living humbly, “Do not think better of yourself because of any outward circumstance that happens to you.”

            Hunger for Humility (2): “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves” (Philippians 2:3).