Today we celebrate Reformation Day (and you thought it was Halloween!), remembering Martin Luther's nailing of his "95 Theses" to the Wittenberg church door in an attempt to start a dialogue with the Catholic Church. This act changed the course of history and Christianity as Luther challenged powerful church officials by rightly asserting that salvation comes by grace alone, through faith alone, rather than by good deeds and work.
Luther did not set out to start a new church, but was concerned about specific ways the church of the time had strayed from biblical teaching. He held up the Bible as the authoritative Word of God, higher than church doctrine and teachings. Martin Luther was passionate about the Bible, and translated it into the German vernacular (as opposed to Latin), making it accessible to everyday people.
You and I are blessed today to have so many English translations of the Bible available. But what if we only had access to the Bible in Latin? Or Russian? Or Swahili? How well would we understand it? How would our faith flourish?
In honor of Reformation Day, I invite you to check out the work of Wycliffe Bible Translators (www.wycliffe.org), a Christian organization busy making God's Word accessible to the everyday people of the world. There are currently more than 2000 languages in the world, spoken by about 350 million people, that have no part of the Bible in their native tongue. Of the 6800+ languages in the world, only 471 have the entire Bible available to them in the language they best understand.
The task is great. The workers are few. Consider how you might play a part in bringing God's Word - and the message of salvation by grace, through faith - to the everyday people of the world so the truth may set them free. Let freedom ring! Happy Reformation Day!
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
A Communion Surprise
It was Sunday morning at church a couple weeks ago, just as Jon and I began to make our way up to communion, when Will decided to come with us. But first, let me set the stage.
I know there are a lot of different ways for churches to carry out the Lord's Supper... passing it around, walking up to the altar, common cup, individual cups, etc. Our church proceeds to the altar for communion, and typically our own children remain in their seats.
Under our previous pastor it was the custom for children to remain in their seats for whatever reason while the adults went forward for communion. Last year a new pastor came to town, and there has been a shift toward having the children come forward, too, and receive a little blessing. But our family has not really made that change yet.
So Will suddenly decided he wanted to come up front with us and see what it was all about. Great, no problem. In the back of my mind I kind of wished I had a bit of time to explain the details more to him, but it was fine.
All the adults received communion and then our pastor came back around to the kids. He stood in front of Will and raised his hand over him in blessing. Will looked at him, assessed the situation, and promptly responded with a high five. I did all I could to keep my laughter from bursting forth!
Our pastor hardly missed a beat, but it took Jon and me several minutes to get over the communion high five.
I know there are a lot of different ways for churches to carry out the Lord's Supper... passing it around, walking up to the altar, common cup, individual cups, etc. Our church proceeds to the altar for communion, and typically our own children remain in their seats.
Under our previous pastor it was the custom for children to remain in their seats for whatever reason while the adults went forward for communion. Last year a new pastor came to town, and there has been a shift toward having the children come forward, too, and receive a little blessing. But our family has not really made that change yet.
So Will suddenly decided he wanted to come up front with us and see what it was all about. Great, no problem. In the back of my mind I kind of wished I had a bit of time to explain the details more to him, but it was fine.
All the adults received communion and then our pastor came back around to the kids. He stood in front of Will and raised his hand over him in blessing. Will looked at him, assessed the situation, and promptly responded with a high five. I did all I could to keep my laughter from bursting forth!
Our pastor hardly missed a beat, but it took Jon and me several minutes to get over the communion high five.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Fundraising Blues
Oh how I hate fundraising! It may be necessary to many programs, but I despise it just the same. For the past few weeks, between my two school-age kids, we've been obligated to four fundraisers. Four. At the same time. I'm sure the neighbors were hiding in their homes when they saw our little troop walking down the street!
There was one fundraiser for Anna and another one for Will, and then one that they were both having to do. It was quite the challenge for me to try to make sure the sales for each of them pretty much balanced out to win the same prizes (since no one was especially motivated to sell).
And don't even get me started about those prizes they dangle before our unsuspecting children. "Sell 500 items and win your very own iPod!" That one really had Anna going. Sadly (or lucky for me) she still was not sufficently motivated to actually go door to door to achieve the coveted prize. But she did moan about what could have been. Thanks, fundraiser! Everyone needs a little more complaining around the house.
I spent several hours online setting up my kids with accounts so they could sell online. We sent out emails and postcards to innocent family and friends in the hope that someone would take pity on us and buy something. Apologies to all of you (we actually got some kind of credit just for handing over your information whether you bought anything or not)!
I would be just as happy (happier, really) to simply write a check for a donation to the organization and then pick up a couple cheap toys at the dollar store for my kids' amusement. It would definitely save me money compared to, say... spending $100 on fundraiser items I don't really need so my kids could "win" some stickers or a plastic toy.
I'm sure some studies have probably shown that fundraising is the way to go (versus asking parents for straight donations). But I hate it because I always feel so conflicted during a fundraiser. On the one hand I feel compelled to do our best for "the team" and to do our fair share. On the other hand I feel like a nuisance for pestering friends, family, and neighbors in order to sell our stuff. It really is a great relief when the selling ends.
So here's a huge "thank you" to everyone who bought something from us over the past few weeks! And the good news is that we are down to just one fundraiser, which we have actually been fairly successful with, so I think we're in the clear for a while. Of course, before I know it, it will be cookie-selling season. But who doesn't love cookies?
There was one fundraiser for Anna and another one for Will, and then one that they were both having to do. It was quite the challenge for me to try to make sure the sales for each of them pretty much balanced out to win the same prizes (since no one was especially motivated to sell).
And don't even get me started about those prizes they dangle before our unsuspecting children. "Sell 500 items and win your very own iPod!" That one really had Anna going. Sadly (or lucky for me) she still was not sufficently motivated to actually go door to door to achieve the coveted prize. But she did moan about what could have been. Thanks, fundraiser! Everyone needs a little more complaining around the house.
I spent several hours online setting up my kids with accounts so they could sell online. We sent out emails and postcards to innocent family and friends in the hope that someone would take pity on us and buy something. Apologies to all of you (we actually got some kind of credit just for handing over your information whether you bought anything or not)!
I would be just as happy (happier, really) to simply write a check for a donation to the organization and then pick up a couple cheap toys at the dollar store for my kids' amusement. It would definitely save me money compared to, say... spending $100 on fundraiser items I don't really need so my kids could "win" some stickers or a plastic toy.
I'm sure some studies have probably shown that fundraising is the way to go (versus asking parents for straight donations). But I hate it because I always feel so conflicted during a fundraiser. On the one hand I feel compelled to do our best for "the team" and to do our fair share. On the other hand I feel like a nuisance for pestering friends, family, and neighbors in order to sell our stuff. It really is a great relief when the selling ends.
So here's a huge "thank you" to everyone who bought something from us over the past few weeks! And the good news is that we are down to just one fundraiser, which we have actually been fairly successful with, so I think we're in the clear for a while. Of course, before I know it, it will be cookie-selling season. But who doesn't love cookies?
Friday, October 5, 2012
Where Can I Find a Classic Movie? Or a Kid Show? Or...?
Okay, what is it with all these television networks changing up their formats? Most recently Nick Jr, known for its preschool programming, added an adult-themed NickMom line-up that starts at 10:00 pm complete with stand-up comedy and "reality" shows. Granted, there probably aren't too many preschoolers up that late watching tv, but family circumstances can vary greatly, and wouldn't it be nice to know you can count on a kid channel to have kid programming? Maybe that's just me.
This isn't the first case of station identity crisis. AMC (American Movie Classics) proudly boasts its series, The Walking Dead (among others). Movie? No. Classic? No. I guess it's at least American? Travel Channel features food shows; Food Network promotes travel shows. And when is the last time anyone has seen music videos on MTV? Dire Straits is left wondering why they wanted their MTV to begin with.
Does any of this matter? Not so much really, in the big scheme of things. And some of these cross-overs have resulted in some truly fine entertainment. But still it leaves one asking, "what's in a name?" Why even have a name and a self-proclaimed genre if you then abandon it as you please? Some may call it progress or an evolution of sorts. Or maybe it's just an identity crisis resulting from trying too hard to chase the money.
This isn't the first case of station identity crisis. AMC (American Movie Classics) proudly boasts its series, The Walking Dead (among others). Movie? No. Classic? No. I guess it's at least American? Travel Channel features food shows; Food Network promotes travel shows. And when is the last time anyone has seen music videos on MTV? Dire Straits is left wondering why they wanted their MTV to begin with.
Does any of this matter? Not so much really, in the big scheme of things. And some of these cross-overs have resulted in some truly fine entertainment. But still it leaves one asking, "what's in a name?" Why even have a name and a self-proclaimed genre if you then abandon it as you please? Some may call it progress or an evolution of sorts. Or maybe it's just an identity crisis resulting from trying too hard to chase the money.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Looking Up
This evening I was out in the neighborhood with my kids, selling popcorn for the Cub Scouts' fundraiser. It had been one of those days. Actually it has been about two weeks' worth of "one of those days" and I'm quite ready to move on to a different kind of day already.
Our kind neighbors were happy to support the Scouts as we made our way from house to house. At the designated last house for the day, while the friendly man was making his selection, Will asked me why the sky was red. I looked up to see the red clouds stretching across the sky as the sun hid behind the treeline in its pursuit of the horizon. It was beautiful. And peaceful. And somehow hopeful.
"The sun is setting. It's time to head home," I told my son. And I was thankful for the reminder to look up. There is a bigger picture, a bigger purpose. Sometimes it gets clouded by the crazy details that crowd me. But if I can lift my eyes and find the great sky and remember the greater One who hung it there, then am I settled in my heart and renewed in my spirit. Thanks, little Scout, for reminding me to look up.
Our kind neighbors were happy to support the Scouts as we made our way from house to house. At the designated last house for the day, while the friendly man was making his selection, Will asked me why the sky was red. I looked up to see the red clouds stretching across the sky as the sun hid behind the treeline in its pursuit of the horizon. It was beautiful. And peaceful. And somehow hopeful.
"The sun is setting. It's time to head home," I told my son. And I was thankful for the reminder to look up. There is a bigger picture, a bigger purpose. Sometimes it gets clouded by the crazy details that crowd me. But if I can lift my eyes and find the great sky and remember the greater One who hung it there, then am I settled in my heart and renewed in my spirit. Thanks, little Scout, for reminding me to look up.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Little Turtles, Big Ocean
Yesterday evening my family went out to the beach to watch a sea turtle nest excavation with the Tybee Sea Turtle Project. About five days after a nest hatches, the turtle people are allowed to dig it up to see what's left. The volunteers count the number of hatched shells, unhatched shells, live babies, and dead babies. At the end, everything is put back into the nest and recovered with sand except, of course, the live babies. They are carried to the water's edge and released, hopefully to make their way to the Sargasso Sea, grow up, and continue the cycle.
So we stood, with a small crowd of other interested people, on the beach in the rain watching the nice lady scoop sand out of the loggerhead nest. Each scoop was quickly sorted: sand, shell fragments, dead babies, live babies. Our nest yielded up 18 live little turtles, each one just a few inches long, and about eight unfortunate turtles who failed to make it. The crowd delighted in each baby who waved its little flippers at us.
After the nest was completely excavated and everything was counted, the bucket of babies was carried down to the water line. The volunteers lined up the little guys facing the ocean and we all watched them go, cheering them on as the waves toppled and turned them.
It was a moment ripe with meaning and metaphor. The little turtles, so small and vulnerable, embarking on their epic voyage against incredible odds because that is what they were born for. They consider no alternatives. They do not shrink back in fear. They crawl across the sand, tumble through their first waves, and press on to swim. And swim. And swim. Across hundreds of miles of open ocean.
They are so tiny as they step off into the seemingly limitless horizon. I want to scoop them up and take care of them, protect them from all kinds of hazards. But that is no good. I'm sure there is no sea turtle who would willingly forfeit his chance in the sea. They do not seek safety. They seek their destiny. May it be the same for us.
So we stood, with a small crowd of other interested people, on the beach in the rain watching the nice lady scoop sand out of the loggerhead nest. Each scoop was quickly sorted: sand, shell fragments, dead babies, live babies. Our nest yielded up 18 live little turtles, each one just a few inches long, and about eight unfortunate turtles who failed to make it. The crowd delighted in each baby who waved its little flippers at us.
After the nest was completely excavated and everything was counted, the bucket of babies was carried down to the water line. The volunteers lined up the little guys facing the ocean and we all watched them go, cheering them on as the waves toppled and turned them.
It was a moment ripe with meaning and metaphor. The little turtles, so small and vulnerable, embarking on their epic voyage against incredible odds because that is what they were born for. They consider no alternatives. They do not shrink back in fear. They crawl across the sand, tumble through their first waves, and press on to swim. And swim. And swim. Across hundreds of miles of open ocean.
They are so tiny as they step off into the seemingly limitless horizon. I want to scoop them up and take care of them, protect them from all kinds of hazards. But that is no good. I'm sure there is no sea turtle who would willingly forfeit his chance in the sea. They do not seek safety. They seek their destiny. May it be the same for us.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
About Frenchness
I have a confession: I love all things French. Okay, maybe not all things. I'm not so crazy about their politics or their reputation for rudeness. But I love the culture, the language, the beauty.
Ever since I was a little girl I have felt this affinity. It was nurtured when my mom would teach me French words like "bonjour" and "fleur" or when my neighbor traveled there and brought back a poster of the Tour Eiffel.
It was even more special to me because it was personal. Having been adopted as an infant, I knew nothing about my heritage or family history. Nothing... except that my birth mother had a French last name. (Yes, I illegally knew the last name of my birth mother. How crazy is that? That I knew it. And that it was illegal.) And so I loved Frenchness all the more because it was part of me in some unknown way.
Over the years I have studied the French language and visited French-speaking countries, although I have not managed to visit France itself. (That is definitely a bucket list trip that I hope to take!) I play French music in our home, and relish the fact that my kids love to dance to it. I have not eaten much French food, though, which brings me to my point for today.
There is a coupon for a local French restaurant. Curious, I pulled up the menu online to see what exactly I might eat there. To my great disappointment, I am less than thrilled by the menu options. Apparently, based on this particular menu, the French eat lots of seafood (which I'm not too crazy about, except for shrimp) and there are the more exotic items like foie gras, which mentally I find entirely disgusting (and a large part of enjoying food is definitely mental). So I don't feel as though I can wholeheartedly embrace this French cuisine, which is a bit disappointing. However, there is chicken! And I do like chicken, so perhaps we shall go see what the French can do with le poulet. Wish me bon appetit! A bientot!
Ever since I was a little girl I have felt this affinity. It was nurtured when my mom would teach me French words like "bonjour" and "fleur" or when my neighbor traveled there and brought back a poster of the Tour Eiffel.
It was even more special to me because it was personal. Having been adopted as an infant, I knew nothing about my heritage or family history. Nothing... except that my birth mother had a French last name. (Yes, I illegally knew the last name of my birth mother. How crazy is that? That I knew it. And that it was illegal.) And so I loved Frenchness all the more because it was part of me in some unknown way.
Over the years I have studied the French language and visited French-speaking countries, although I have not managed to visit France itself. (That is definitely a bucket list trip that I hope to take!) I play French music in our home, and relish the fact that my kids love to dance to it. I have not eaten much French food, though, which brings me to my point for today.
There is a coupon for a local French restaurant. Curious, I pulled up the menu online to see what exactly I might eat there. To my great disappointment, I am less than thrilled by the menu options. Apparently, based on this particular menu, the French eat lots of seafood (which I'm not too crazy about, except for shrimp) and there are the more exotic items like foie gras, which mentally I find entirely disgusting (and a large part of enjoying food is definitely mental). So I don't feel as though I can wholeheartedly embrace this French cuisine, which is a bit disappointing. However, there is chicken! And I do like chicken, so perhaps we shall go see what the French can do with le poulet. Wish me bon appetit! A bientot!
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