Bid High or Sleep in the Street

I don’t know if your family loves a good family game night or not but ours does.  Even now when the grandkids come down, the Uno cards come out.  International negotiations pale to the deliberations over the validity of scrabble words.  Artists blossom as Pictionary words are captured in strange and abstract drawings that can only be deciphered by those who are well schooled in art appreciation. Debates fiercer than anything Lincoln and Douglas ever dreamed of rage over who gets to be the racecar for the Monopoly game.  Years ago when my children were little, we would go to Grandpa and Grandma’s farm house and a game of Rook would almost always have to be played.  For those of you who don’t know, Rook is a card game with the possibility of attaining 120 points in each hand.  We would play teams so partners would declare how many of the 120 points they were confident the two of them could win together with the hand dealt to them.  There was no table talk allowed as to what your partner had but there was a lot of under the table innuendos that a certain number could be made with the help of the partner and then closely watching your partner’s face to see if sheer horror or a slight smile or the little “I’ll help you with that” was uttered. 

No matter what cards our son was dealt, he would boldly proclaim that he was capable of making some ridiculously high number and sometimes the full 120 points.  And then the caveat “countin on you Grandpa” would always follow and Grandpa, without fail, would say ok Toby bid high or sleep in the street. (Where that phrase came from or exactly what it means is still a mystery to me.)  It was remarkable how many times the two of them would actually pull off the ridiculous claim made by a fearless child.

I think about those Rook games played around the dining room table on a hot summer night in Iowa.  I think about a little boy who would boldly go far beyond his own capabilities knowing he could count on his Grandpa.  The joy on his face as he looked around the table to see lesser players fold their cards and say pass and the joy on his Grandpa’s face as he swelled with pride that his grandson was placing complete trust in his ability to make the impossible possible.

Life is not a game and there is a whole lot more at stake than going in the hole a few points if you don’t make your number but I still think there is a lesson to be learned. I would have to admit that most of the time I take life way too serious and allow fear to control me.  I count the cost, run the numbers, make a graph, list pros and cons and then shoot just a little lower than what I realistically think I can achieve.  I play it safe.  I wonder what life would be like if I loosened my grip and lived just a little bit on the dangerous side.  What if I would count the cost, run the numbers, make a graph, list the pros and cons and then try something way beyond my capabilities and trust God to make up the difference.  I wonder if life would take on a sense of adventure that would cause my face to radiate joy and I wonder if God’s face would light up knowing His daughter completely trusted Him to make up the difference and make the impossible possible.

Yes, I hear you saying but what if you fail?  I think Grandpa and Toby would both tell me to go for it.  There were those times when the two of them couldn’t come up with the cards to bring in the points and they would go in the hole but I will have to say that the two of them had more fun going in the hole than the rest of us who played it safe and supposedly won. 

What would you do if you were completely convinced that God was your partner?  What would you do if you had complete confidence that God would make the impossible possible?

He is and He will.

The View From Above

“Don’t miss this exciting opportunity to fly through an open-air crater over a tropical forest inside an ancient collapsed cave.  This is a “once in a lifetime experience.”

That was the description for the zip line excursion on our Carnival Cruise and it sounded like too much fun to pass on so I signed up.  The day of the excursion we loaded onto an old bus with no air conditioning and made our way away from the shoreline and into the rain forest.  The road leading out to the zip line site went from a nice smooth two lane highway to a rut filled dirt road that made we grab the seat in front of me to keep from hitting my head on the roof of the bus.  I began to think that the trip from the boat to the zip line should have been the excursion.  It was more excitement than I had bargained for but soon I noticed a change in the scenery and the land around me gave way to some rolling hills and a little more vegetation.  Slowly we were climbing to a higher elevation.  The air became a little cooler, the grass a little greener and lush.  At last the bus came to a stop.  I was relieved until I stepped off the bus and found out we had not reached our destination.  This was just as far as the bus could go and from here we hike.  The line of soon-to-be zip liners snaked their way through the rain forest going higher and higher.  The next stop would be where we received our gear and some instructions on how to hang on a cable stretched over an open-air crater over a tropical forest inside an ancient collapsed cave. At this point, I am wondering what in the world I was thinking when I signed up for this and on top of that paid a lot of money. I was going to get my money’s worth.  I put on my helmet and the rigging that would connect me to the zip line and then we hiked some more.  Who knew the top was so far up?

We walked over swinging bridges that took us deeper in the rain forest and higher up the crater.  At last I could see the steps that led up to the platform from which I would fly. One by one those ahead of me were hooked to the cable above and released to their "once in a lifetime experience."  Now I was on the platform being hooked to the zip line, being given instruction about how to keep my legs tucked up so when I got to the next platform I wouldn’t whack my knees.  And then…I lifted my legs and began my glide.  It was breathtaking. It was worth every penny I had paid. I saw the tops of trees, I saw lush vegetation, I saw a river far below winding its way though the forest.  It was almost as if I could touch the clear blue sky above as the cool breeze rushed past my face.  The view from above was vastly different than the view from below.  Perspective makes an enormous difference.

Here is what George Sweeting said in Don't Doubt in the Dark.

.                                                                          

“Dear Friends,

I have discovered that it really doesn’t pay to serve God.  Notice where I am …in jail, and I don’t like it one bit.  To think I’ve been faithful all these years, and I end up in prison, I’m disappointed, bitter, and resentful.

Unhappily yours, the apostle Paul.

Dear friends, I want you to know this is the first time I’ve had a mission’s tour paid for by the Roman government.  But more than that, they chain soldiers to me for twenty-four hours a day, and I share the good news with them.  Every eight hours, they change the guards, and I have a new congregation.  Some are coming to faith in Caesar’s palace…I’m having a ball’’’Wish you were here…Keep up the support.

Happily yours, the apostle Paul

Way to go Paul!  Paul was living his life with the perspective from above.  

One of my friends posted the following on their facebook page

  - for me its not just whether or not the glass is half full or half empty. sometimes I find myself saying "what glass? I don't see a glass. Its probably broken. And I'm going to get blamed for it..."

 

Before you go all judgmental, let me point out we all have our bad days when our perspective is from the bottom looking up.  From the bottom we are face to face with our own limitations, our own abilities, and our only options are what we can make happen. Hopelessness and despair howl at us as we stare into the darkness not knowing where to take our next step. We can’t see the path that God has already cleared for us to walk.  We can’t see the big overview.  We can’t see the beauty of the totality of our lives.  So when I am feeling like there is no way out and nothing is working, I know it is time to head to the high places with God for a new perspective.  The view from above reminds me that God dwells in the high places where all things are possible. 

Psalm 18:33He maketh my feet like hinds' feet, and setteth me upon my high places.

Listening With Both Ears

Do your ears hang low? Do they wobble to and fro?

Can you tie them in a knot? Can you tie them in a bow?

Can you throw them o’er your shoulder

Like a continental soldier?

Do your ears hang low?

Do your ears hand high? Do they reach up to the sky?

Do they droop when they are wet? Do they stiffen when they’re dry?

Ca you semaphore your neighbor with a minimum of labour?

Do your ears hang high?

I want you to know upfront that my ears to not hang low, droop, flip-flop or waggle. I have two very cute and well-matched ears and both ears function fairly well. I am really quite blessed in the ear department so where, might you ask, am I going with this blog.

Can you envision a woman busy making dinner, answering a child’s homework questions, catching tomorrow’s weather forecast on the local news, talking to a girlfriend on her cell phone, and answering her husband’s desperate plea for directions to the lost ketchup bottle in the refrigerator? I once saw a man in the airport with two cell phones pecking away on his laptop and talking to the man next to him. You would think that would mean that we developed such a heightened sense of hearing that we are now able to listen on multiple levels. That would be my hope and dream but I would only be fooling myself.

My thesaurus lists the words pay attention, attend, hear, and focused under the word listen. These words infer that when I listen I am giving my full attention to the one who is speaking. Listening involves allowing someone to speak, as I am silently processing the information to gain understanding, asking questions to clarify any unclear points and then responding. Most of the time when someone else is speaking I am just looking for an opening, a slight pause, where I can jump in with my comment. I have to confess that I hear a lot but I listen very little. There is nothing wrong with my ears just the user.

As men and women of the 21^st century, we pride ourselves in the art of multitasking. I will be the first one to admit that not every conversation requires my full attention – like where is the supposedly lost ketchup bottle. I can pretty much answer that without thinking. On the other hand, a lot of misunderstandings could be avoided if we were listening and not just hearing.

I read the following account of a conversation on Girlfriendit Newsletter.

“Not long ago, after a long day of searching for a venue for a large event, we had this conversation during our drive time home. It went something like this:

Patty: Okay, what was the venue director saying about the guy and girl having the affair?

Lisa: What affair? (thinking to herself she missed a great conversation)

Patty: She said they were having an affair in the parking lot.

Lisa: Who was having an affair?

Patty: I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you! Something about the parking lot affair...

Lisa: Parking lot affair? She said you wouldn’t have enough parking space for the affair! Affair, as in gala.

Patty: Long pregnant pause . . .

Lisa: You know, affair, gala, venue, event!!!!!!”

Hearing without listening creates a lot of misunderstandings. Not truly listening is a major problem when it comes to our relationship with God. The Lord expects and deserves our full and focused attention. I have to ask myself if I am truly listening as God tries to speak to me through His word, a sermon, a book, a song or countless other ways or am I just hearing but not actually processing the information. Am I trying to listen to God while I am multitasking? He will not compete for my attention but waits for me to give Him my undivided attention. I am finding that listening is rare and like anything rare, it is priceless.

The Message  32-36 "So, my dear friends, listen carefully; those who embrace these my ways are most blessed.  Mark a life of discipline and live wisely; don't squander your precious life.  Blessed the man, blessed the woman, who listens to me, awake and ready for me each morning, alert and responsive as I start my day's work.  When you find me, you find life, real life, to say nothing of God's good pleasure.

Can God Trust Me

Every town has its own distinct personality and its claim to fame. Scottsboro, Alabama is known as the Lost Luggage Capital of the World, Albertville, Alabama as the Fire Hydrant Capital of the World, and Claxton, Georgia as the Fruitcake Capital of the World. The Cow Chip Throwing Capital of the World goes to Beaver, Oklahoma.

Back in the late 70’s early 80’s, I lived just outside of Peru, Indiana that happens to be known as the Circus Capital of the World. Ringling Brothers, Hagenbeck-Wallace, Bufflalo Bill’s Wild West Show would all winter in Peru, and so it goes without saying, The International Circus Hall of Fame is located in Peru and every summer the circus still comes to life in this small town. Every July there are about 250 kids ages 7 – 21, and more volunteers than you can count, who hit the big top to amaze the crowds. Oohs and aahhs rise from the spectators as breathtaking balancing bikes, jugglers extraordinaire, extreme tumblers all take their places in the three rings on the Big Top floor. As each act finishes with a flourish and the traditional bow, the anticipation builds for the final act. We all know they save the best for last and that is always the high flying trapeze artists who do their death defying twists and turns high above the circus floor.

As the Ringmaster takes center ring, a hush comes on the crowd as he announces the final act. The flyers come out and begin to ascend to the tiny platform perched high above the crowd. All eyes follow the flyer higher and higher up a small rope ladder until at last they reach their perch. Necks crane, eyes are fixed, and silence hangs under the big top as the flyer reaches out to take the swing. I think every man, woman, boy, and girl watching secretly desires to fly and know the thrill of being completely free. Almost unnoticed, the catcher sits, already on his swing, waiting as the flyer prepares.

Did you know that the flyer’s trapeze is between eleven and fourteen feet but the catcher’s are only eight feet? That one fact suddenly opens our thinking to the reality that the catcher and the flyer are in different arcs and different rhythms. In order for the beauty of flight to happen, timing is paramount!

It is the catcher, not the flyer who is in control. It is the catcher that begins his swing as he calculates in his head the timing that is needed to be at the perfect arc at the exact time to grab hold of the flyer’s wrists. He is calculating the number of twists and turns and the height of the flyer. In the hushed silence, he swings until you hear a strong and confident “Hep” that alerts the flyer to leave the platform. Among trapeze artists, there is a common call of PBD – premature bar departure. A too eager departure means a fast fall to the net and a moment’s hesitation will also result in a bounce in the net below. There is, however, no shame in falling. Every flyer learns the art and grace of falling before the thrill of flying. Falling is a prerequisite to flying.

God has perfect timing. Again and again I have been amazed at how He has orchestrated my life to be in the right place at the right time with the right people. He knows all the variables and waits for that exact moment to say Hep. I know that I can trust Him but I wonder if He can trust me? I wonder what would happen if the Lord could trust me to wait for his strong and confident Hep before I make a move? I wonder what would happen if the Lord could trust me not to hesitant when I hear His call? I wonder what amazing things I would experience if God could totally trust me. The best catchers and flyers have a bond of trust that allows them to do death-defying feats high above the mere mortals below.

I have had those moments in my life when I heard God’s Hep and responded, not in panic mode, but simply answering His call with obedience. It is the wonder of those moments that I desire. I also have had those moments when I pulled a PBD or hesitated. I can always trust that when I obey His timing and take a leap of faith He will catch me and I will experience sheer joy or I will mess up and He will catch me in the safety net of His grace. Either way He will catch me. God knows it is going to take some practice to develop trust and timing on my part and He is just waiting for me to pick myself up and try again. So today I have learned one more lesson in the art and grace of falling and I am one lesson closer to flying. Headed back up!