Repurposed Gifts

 

Anyone with frugal parents or grandparents knows that repurposing is not a new idea. My parents shopped for the best sales, used the item lovingly, and then repurposed it with a new life when ‘it was time.’

 

Repurposing was a choice except for the lean years. During the lean years, it was the best way to get ‘new’ things, even for Christmas. My favorite example is the year I was five or six. I unwrapped a new doll’s bed made from a shoebox covered with fabric with a tiny matching blanket and pillow inside. Repurposed shoe box. Brand new doll bed. I also got a gold teddy bear which looked just like the one that had gone missing from my bedroom a few days earlier.  Only now it had a new bright red jacket, turning it into a Winnie the Pooh wannabe. Repurposed bear. Brand new Pooh.

 

Mom may have been the repurposing queen, but God is the repurpose master. He created us and let us wear ourselves threadbare, attempting to live this life on our own strength and knowledge. And then when we ran out of our ourselves, He clothed us anew with His strength and His knowledge.

 

  …since you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self. You are being renewed in knowledge according to the image of your Creator. [Col 3:9-10, CSB]

 

Repurposed old self. Brand new self in Christ.

 

Repurposed mess. Brand new compassionate, kind, humble, gentle, patient, forgiving, loving one.

 

It is time. Let the master repurpose our own agenda to the one He had planned for us all along. Second chances. Clean slates. Do overs. But this time, clothed in His goodness. Jesus offers the best of repurposed gifts!

Dear Mom

 Dear Mom,

Everyone is putting up Christmas decorations early this year. This week I put the annual Christmas poinsettias on your headstone. I used the gold shimmery kind that you loved. You never followed the trends in fashion or décor, but just stayed with what YOU liked. I can appreciate that about you now. You’ll be happy to know that gold and silver and white are all the rage on Christmas trees, so you would be setting the trends now.

 

We are decorating early because it’s been kind of a stinky year and we want it to be over and we want the holiday cheer to overtake any blues that have hung around. January and February weren’t so bad. In fact, in retrospect, they were pretty awesome! None of us knew at the time how great the simple things like New Year resolutions and Valentine’s dinners could be. We used those two months to unpack and settle after a big move to be near our three grandbabies. Your youngest great grandkids out of a DOZEN, Mom! I wish like crazy that you could see them. Or can you? I’ve never been real sure whether you get that heavenly vision immediately or later.

 

But I digress. Right after this better-than-we-knew January/February, we rolled into March and BAM!. Right after your birthday, a pandemic began swirling the globe and it hasn’t stopped yet. To make it worse, people are arguing about it. As much as I miss you, I’m kind of glad you and Dad aren’t here. We would be so worried about you. Our kids worry about us now, because unlike you, we have aged twenty years since you left!

 

On top of the pandemic, 2020 has torn at us in other ways too.  Racial injustices still exist and are still denied. We had our sixth presidential election year since you moved on and this one was particularly divisive. Differences of opinions are now shouted from the electronic megaphones of social media. You would hate the drama, but you would love the baby pictures posted by all your friends.

Everyone can agree that we are ready for 2020 to be history. We have all been in the same storm, but we have not all been in the same boat. Life on our boat has been comfortable and happy, but others have navigated the worst of times. You lived through some worst of times in your life and I know that our 2020 year has nothing on you. But you still always celebrated.

 

So we prepare for celebration. Because if we start celebrating now, we prevent our hope from deferring. Proverbs 13:12 says “Hope delayed makes the heart sick, but desire fulfilled is a tree of life.” And we are tired of sick hearts.

 

We aren’t delaying hope a minute longer. Hang the mistletoe! Put the angel on top of the tree. Remember that the Christ child was born to become our very hope. Remedy our hearts with hope. No more deferring. No delaying. Our hope is here and now in Him and Him alone.

 

Like Scarecrows in a Cucumber Patch

 

It was the most unusual Christmas gift. My 7^th grade teacher combined her study of different world religions with the hobby of choice in the seventies, ceramics. She painted 28 little Buddha statues in pastel colors and mine was yellow with a pearl sheen. I carried it home to my bedroom, recently redecorated in brilliant yellows and oranges with macramé hangers holding terrarium globes. Joanna Gaines hadn’t even been born yet, so the décor was all of my own inspiration! My little yellow Buddha blended in on my bedroom wicker shelf like a hazy sunrise over an autumn wheat field.

 

But I knew there was no chance that my parents would let me keep it. I had been well trained in the Christian God and knew Buddha was not him. I could not have been more surprised when Mom said ‘Well, I guess you can keep it, as long as you don’t worship him. He’s just a lump of clay.”

 

Years later I lived and worked in a world far more heterogeneous than the one I knew in seventh grade. I met many people with different gods. I learned I could respect differences in our beliefs without changing mine. I never dissed other people’s gods, but I took opportunities to brag on mine.

 

I learned that my God hears me when I talk to Him. He answers back when I call. He keeps His promises to me. He loves me like a good father loves his child. He searches for me when I wander. He is alive. He is powerful. His works on my behalf.

 

The prophet Jeremiah compared my God to the other gods of his day:

 

Like scarecrows in a cucumber patch, their idols cannot speak. They must be carried because they cannot walk. Do not fear them for they can do no harm – and they cannot do any good. [Jeremiah 10:5, CSB]

 

It turns out that Mom’s response to me was wise parenting. We do not need to fear what can do no harm. Neither should we credit power to something that has none. Like scarecrows in a cucumber patch, they must be carried. Mine carries me.

Think on These Things

The most important decisions we will make today are not what to do or where to go, or even what to say, but what to think about. What thoughts will we let meander around in the hallways of our heads?

Ample advice is floating around in the middle of our current pandemic, so I will not add another should/shouldn’t to your collection. You must live this weird life in the way that works best for you and yours.

But for me – and some might say I tend to lean to the glass-half-empty side - I am loving the reminders to stay positive. In the news, social media, in the words from friends, family, church leaders, and celebrities, many are offering messages of hope and positivity. And I find that when I look for good things, I tend to find them.

I also listen to the less optimistic messages. I will not be found with my head in the sand. But I choose not to allow the thoughts that stir up fear and frustration to hang out in my head space all day long. [Note: I am not suggesting that positive thinking be used over proper treatment to battle depression or other diseases of the mind.]

The notion of managing our thoughts is not new. Paul reminded the early church at Philippi to stay focused on positive thoughts. His advice came right after he had acknowledged some daily bickering that had occurred there.

Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. [Phil 4:8, NLT]

In this scripture are six reliable filters through which to sift my thoughts:

True – Is it accurate? Have I fact checked it?

Honorable – Even if it’s true, is it respectful? Does it give honor or dishonor?

Right – Does it reinforce rightness? Is it just?

Pure – Is it ok for everyone to know or only certain people?

Lovely – Does it uplift and brighten things up?

Admirable – Would I be proud of this?

When I fix my thoughts on something, I make a conscious intentional decision to hang on to those thoughts. Other versions of this scripture translate as “think on these things.” Negative thoughts will always pop in my head, but I can influence how long they stay. I can replace them with better alternatives. I can distract myself from them with healthier diversions. Today I will sift through my thoughts like flour, looking for what is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, and admirable. Today I will think on these things.

Love You More

Remember playing this little competition with someone you love?

I love you.

Love you more.

No, I love you more.

No, I love YOU more.

A few years ago, my daughter gave me a ‘Love You More’ spoon to stir my coffee, making a play to win the game once and for all. Every time I use it, it’s a sweet reminder of our love for one another.

And every time I read God’s love letter, He reminds me that He loves me with a big love! One of my favorite reminders of His love is this one:

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. [I John 3:16, NLT]

There is no greater love than that.

God will always win the ‘love you more’ game with us. But He did give us a pointer on how to love Him back.

Jesus replied, “You must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment.” [Matt 22:37-38, NLT]

And so we still try to reciprocate His impossible love. We love Him more than anything else. We love Him more than we love anyone else. And we love Him with an ‘all of me’ kind of love. And He loves us more!

A Time for Gentleness

Another new normal has settled around us with some weird dichotomies. Pulling us in different directions. Bringing us together in untapped strength. Physically apart, socially together. The COVID-19 virus pandemic comes at us with contrasting forces. An enemy that demands we play our part hunkering down so the few with the medical weapons have a better chance of fighting it.

We watch these contrasts playing out on the news, in conversations on social media, and within our own families. Are we doing enough? Are we doing too much? Are we worrying too much? Are we not taking this seriously enough?  I watch us lash out in harsh criticism and I watch us spread hope with the gentleness of a morning breeze. I know this is the time for gentleness. For gentle words. Proverbs advertises the benefits of a gentle tongue over a crushing one.

A gentle answer deflects anger, but harsh words make tempers flare.

The tongue of the wise makes knowledge appealing, but the mouth of a fool belches out foolishness.

The LORD is watching everywhere, keeping his eye on both the evil and the good.

Gentle words are a tree of life; a deceitful tongue crushes the spirit. [Proverbs 15:1-2, NLT]

But what if the loudest contrasts you hear are going on between your own two ears while you attempt to practice gentleness?

Mine go something like this:

Harsh Self: Those stupid idiots, what is so all-fired important about their lives that they have to get out and spread this disease to others?

Gentle Self: You don’t know what is going on in their lives. Maybe they are a hospital worker just trying to get to work. Maybe they are personal shoppers so you can pick up your curbside groceries.

Harsh Self: All of them? Seriously? Some must be extroverts who just can’t sit with themselves for two seconds.

Gentle Self: This isolation must be really hard for them. You should be thankful you can store up all your introverted energy to recharge yourself.

Harsh Self: I may be recharged, but I’m tired of not being able to hug my grandbabies.

Gentle Self: You should be really proud that your kids want to protect you from unnecessary exposure. They must be exhausted keeping those little angels entertained. We’ll all get through this.

Harsh Self: Speaking of how long this is going to take… Easter? Doubtful. I’d rather trust the voices who use data, like Dr. Fauci. He doesn’t make stuff up.

Gentle Self: Leadership is difficult in times of crisis.

Harsh Self: Yeah, but good leadership 101 says to admit you don’t know when you don’t know.

Gentle Self: OK, you got me there.

Harsh Self: Why wasn’t anyone paying attention to Bill Gates when he predicted this would happen and we should get prepared?

Gentle Self: Well, you didn’t even watch that TED Talk yourself until very recently. Your head was in the sand too, wasn’t it?

Harsh Self: Hey, wait a second, isn’t that my line?

Gentle Self: Right. Touché. We need to be gentler with ourselves too, don’t we?

Harsh Self: Well, I guess so. Maybe. But you’re the one that is journaling this pandemic with a 2x2 matrix like some former corporate Powerpoint geek. Where is your faith?

Gentle Self: My faith is strong. His hand is holding me fast. You hear me play that hymn every morning before I log the number of cases and deaths in my 2x2 matrix.

Harsh Self: But those counts are curving upwards every day. They are getting closer.  I don’t want my loved ones to die alone in the hospital.

Gentle Self: Me neither. My heart just breaks for those who are dying alone and for their families who are home alone.

Harsh Self: Get a grip. Most people aren’t dying. Many people have light cases.

Gentle Self: Hey don’t be so calloused. This is serious.

Harsh Self: I’ll tell you what’s serious. What’s serious is whether you have dinner planned yet. Are you going to let us starve?

Gentle Self: No, we have enough food to hibernate for months. Thank God for His provision.

Harsh Self: When did black beans become your favorite ingredient?

So that’s what’s going on in my head. I have a naturally critical perspective. I’m not proud of it. But I’m working on gentle words even when my thoughts aren’t so gentle. And this health crisis is giving me plenty of practice. How are you practicing gentleness with others and yourself?

Drinking from Wells I Did Not Dig

At the end of each winter on a little spot of earth in southern Illinois, a little miracle happens. A small patch of daffodils pop through the dormant grass near trees that are still bare. This picture shows what it looked like this week. Only green stems but the yellow blooms will be full before Easter. I didn’t plant them, but I get to enjoy them. My mother-in-law planted them many years ago when she lived on that property. And now, her small act of burying a few bulbs gives me a daffodil crop that I didn’t sow. I don’t have to do anything at all, year after year.

There’s a passage in the Old Testament that speaks of our beneficiary status.

So it shall be, when the LORD your God brings you into the land of which He swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to give you

large and beautiful cities which you did not build,

houses full of all good things, which you did not fill,

hewn-out wells which you did not dig,

vineyards and olive trees which you did not plant –

when you have eaten and are full – then beware, lest you forget the LORD who brought you out of the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage.  [Deut 6:10-12, NKJV]

Between slavery and the promised land, the Lord was reminding the Jewish people of His promise for a new land of freedom in Canaan that would soon be theirs. But not just the land. They would benefit from all kinds of things that were already established in that land. He warned them in advance to not forget where they came from. Not to get so comfortable that they forget what the Lord had done for them.

I’ve always loved the imagery in this scripture of drinking from wells I didn’t dig. I know a lot of people before me have dug wells from which I still drink. My dad’s family lived in a vacant chicken house for a time when he was a first grader. Very humble beginnings, indeed. But his parents built and dug and planted. Then he and Mom built and dug and planted some more. And I got to enjoy the fruit of that labor. Yes, I’ve done some of my own building and digging and planting too. But materially and spiritually, I’m grateful for people before me, who invested in my future. I sit under big shade trees because someone I don’t even know planted tiny trees. And I sit under sound biblical teaching with my church family because of somebody’s praying grandmother. I live with many human rights and freedoms because someone else fought for them.

For all of this, I am grateful and won’t forget.

Now it’s our turn. Our time to plant trees that won’t shade us. Our time to dig wells that won’t hydrate us. Our time to build things that will outlast us.

What are you doing today that will mostly benefit others?

My Daily Portion

I’m a planner. I sometimes enjoy thinking through the next week or month or year more than relishing today. And if I’m honest, I know that my compulsion to plan is about removing anxiety by removing unknowns. I want to know that there will be enough food in the refrigerator and enough money in the bank and enough time for my to-do list.

But there are times when life isn’t plannable. When the unknowns are so overwhelming that you just get through today with no energy to spare on tomorrow. I was there for 26 days once, on hospital bedrest in early labor, a human incubator. I was there when my mother was living out her last few weeks allotted on earth. I was there in my empty house while the sea container filled with my household goods stalled in customs.  I was there after cancer surgery when my recovery schedule went all haywire.

You’ve been there too. Maybe waiting for a job offer, or the right color on a pregnancy test, or an adoption to finalize, or divorce papers to be served or a diagnosis to be confirmed. It is in these waiting times that we reduce life to daily increments. Taking one day at a time. Asking for God’s mercies to be fresh again each morning and thanking Him each night for giving sufficient strength for the day.

There was a man in the Old Testament named Jehoiachin who was king of Judah for a short stint. Then he was captured and held in a Babylonian prison almost 37 years. But in II Kings 25:27, he was released from prison and given a prominent seat. He changed from his prison garments and ate regularly with the king of Babylon. Verse 30 says he had ‘a portion for each day, all the days of his life.’

Jehoiachin was not a godly man so not one of my big role models. And the king who freed him gets no admiration either. But that verse grabbed my heart. What a wonderful change of perspective he must have had coming from a diet of prison rations to a portion at the king’s table every day. Not just a one-time ‘got out of jail’ celebration, but every day for the rest of his life.

I was also once in prison, a slave to sin, living on a slim per diem allowance. And then a King freed me. He sets a place for me at His table every day. It has portions of grace served to my need for that day. I don’t have to worry whether I should save some for tomorrow. I know tomorrow there will be plenty again. This assurance is there when I think I’m in control and when I know I’m in limbo. So I’m trying to not get caught up in the planning. But to trust the daily portion He has planned for me. It’s just there. My daily portion. For the rest of my life.