Crooked Sticks -- Hope Chronicles 82

There are lots of amazing things about the gospel:

• God chose an ordinary, uneducated girl rather than a wealthy, educated woman to give birth to His Son
  
• God chose a blue collar man rather than a Rabbi to raise His Son
• God chose to come as a helpless infant rather than a grown man just appearing
• God chose to allow Jesus to know hunger and thirst and temptation
• God chose the cross and the grave
• God chose to know separation from His Son when Jesus cried out "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
• God chose uneducated men and women to start his church

It's all pretty amazing if you think about it. Jesus could have come as a king with a commanding army. His army could have been angels that would make every knee bow. He could have come as good looking but scripture indicates there was nothing to draw us to Him. He could have come with trumpets. He could have ridden Seabiscuit instead of a donkey.

Even today, there are lots of things God does that are amazing. It's amazing that God chooses to work through you and me. C.S. Lewis wrote:

The good news of the Gospel is that God draws straight lines with crooked sticks.

I don't know about you, but I'm a crooked stick. While I can be loving and kind and loyal, my moods are up and down. I can be stubborn. I can have bite in my words. I am a crooked stick. Yet God still uses me. I'm somehow still a part of his plan in spite of all my imperfections. He uses me to encourage the fellow employee at work, to help a child find his mother, to step in with a helping hand. He uses me to point to Him in my own imperfect way.

From one crooked stick to another, isn't it hope that God chooses to use us at all?

Two Kinds of Ice Cream

This is part of a series of posts on the book Behind Those Eyes. It was written by Lisa Whittle and is being hosted over a Lelia's site. This week was on "Ms. Happiness."

I do not know the musician or all the words. But there is part of a song that has stuck in my head since about 5th or 6th grade. Here's what I know: "Happiness is two kinds of ice cream, finding your skate key, telling the time. Happiness is learning to whistle and tying your shoe for the very first time . . . ." Wow, just think, Steak-n-Shake must have heard that song too when they started their side-by-side milkshakes. I'll take my happiness as chocolate and strawberry please.

Wouldn't it be nice if happiness were that simple? Maybe as a child it is enough. Children get joy out of the simplest of things. But as an adult, telling the time usually means we are running late because we couldn't find the car keys and there aren't two items in the house to make an edible meal.

So, just like Lisa writes, we pretend. We put on our happy faces and pretend that we are okay. "How are you?"

"Fine, great. You?'

"Good. Your husband?"

We go on pretending to be happy, but every time we pretend, we sink a bit deeper into the muck. Pretending to be happy is like trying to tread quick sand. There's no on to pull you out because they're all convinced that you two kinds of ice cream have satisfied.

I love the distinction Lisa makes between happiness and joy. There is such a huge difference. She quotes CS Lewis: "We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition, when infinite joy is offered to us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in the slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by an offer of a holiday at the sea."

That is so me. My friend Sandy once described my relationship with God like that. God wanting to cleanse me but me only willing to stick my foot in lest I make the ocean dirty -- never imagining it was a well spring of living water. Hopefully, I've changed since then, but that image has stuck with me.

I am the child happy with the mud pies or two kinds of ice cream. Because of that, I miss out on joy in a deep and lasting way. I go on pretending to be happy even when I'm not.

God calls us to put off the pretending and find joy -- not happiness -- in Him. Lisa writes:

Because while happiness cannot readily be achieved and is often impersonated, the reality is joy that comes from our heavenly Father is easily achieved and readily offered.

The rub is admitting I'm not happy and that I need God to give me that joy. God, please pour out your joy on all of us.

Remember

In high school and college, I discovered the trick for learning lists of things was using a mnemonic device. Basically, you line up the beginning of letters of each word to form a word or, failing the ability to do that, making up a silly sentence in the same way. One that we probably all learned in elementary school is for the names of the Great Lakes, HOMES: Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie, Superior. It associates hard to remember items with easy to remember ones, creating a series of links.

Over the summer I've been rereading C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia. In the Silver Chair, Eustace and Jill are called into Narnia by Aslan. Eustace has been before, but the two get separated. So, Jill meets Aslan on her own. He gives her a task: to find a lost prince and bring him home or die trying or have been called back to her own world.


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When You Give Someone a Cookie

The other night I was reading Lisa Whittle's post. She always makes me think. It was about how one of her dear friends didn't like her initially. Ouch. But this woman decided to pray for her. Now, she is one of those friends that Lisa can call any time.

I had taped a show Friday night called Flashpoint. It's a new cop type show. Given that everything else is reruns, I decided to tape it. I finally got around to watching it. Here's the storyline. A man gets the page letting him know that he should rush his daughter to the hospital for a heart transplant. They get there and settled in only to find out that there was a mix up and the heart is going to someone else. The dad has been up for three days straight in a vigil over his dying daughter. The stress breaks him. He grabs a security guy's gun and takes hostages.

Of course, that is when they call in the team. I haven't watched it enough to know the names of everyone yet. But "Head Guy" goes in to negotiate with him. Others are watching him on the monitor. The dad wants the TV turned back on for his daughter. Rule #1, never give a hostage taker anything without getting something in return. So, Head Guy asks dad to ask each person if they are okay. He does this but skips the man on gurney who is slated to get the heart. Head Guy says, "What about him? Is he okay?" He encourages dad to ask him.

The rest of the team who are watching debrief this for us. It turns out that one of the tactics is to make the hostage into a person. By having dad ask the hostage if he is okay, the hostage begins to become a person rather than a means to an end.

Lisa's post fit right in with this. It made me think of work. One woman works in another office. One day when I was still very new, she came in the back door, walked to my desk, and demanded that I look something up for her. I was in the process of leaving and I was use to people going to the counter. I got really flustered and was offended by her tone. I managed to find what she needed but decided that I didn't like her at all. After she left, they explained who she was and all, but it didn't help me liking her.

A couple months ago I made my famous chocolate chip cookies. (I'm probably overly proud of them.) I took some to the office. As I was taking a short break, God prompted me to put three on a little plate and take them down to this woman. From that time forward, every time I walk by she waves. If she comes into the office, she stops to talk to me. When you give someone a cookie or a prayer or a smile, sometimes you forge a connection because you have made them human.

I've probably used this C.S. Lewis quote before, but I think it sums things up so nicely that I'll use it again.

It is a serious thing to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship or else a horror and a corruption such as you meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long, we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of those overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealing with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people.

When we remember another's humanness, we treat them with more humanity. When we remember that they may have things going on in their lives that we know nothing about, we can respond with mercy and kindness. When we treat them with respect even when we might not feel respected, we give them dignity. When we offer kindness, we never know what doors God will open up.

A Different Boy -- Hope Chronicles 58

Forgiveness has been very much on my mind lately. About this time last year, it became clear I needed to ask forgiveness from several people for something fairly major that involved a good deal of trust. I do feel as if I have been forgiven by some. They have let me move on from it, chosen to trust me in spite of all that had transpired. But there are others who say they have forgiven me but always pull up short of placing their trust back in me.

But I need to confess that last week I flubbed up the forgiveness thing as well. I had a roommate for awhile. We lived together about 18 months. Very suddenly, she decided to move out. I was hurt in the way it all happened. She told me that we would still be friends because, "You (meaning me) are good with keeping up with people." I had to express my doubt because I knew from watching her with others that she rarely returned phone calls and emailed even less. It's hard to keep up a relationship from one side. Knowing this pattern, I didn't even try.

I was so hurt that I didn't think I could stand to be here during the actual moving out process. I asked her to put Katy (I didn't have Mali yet) in my room and shut the door. Katy is a relatively shy cat. While I doubted she would come out with all the noise and new people around, I did not want to risk her darting out the door.

I retreated to a friend's house for the evening. When I came home, they were still moving things out. I had thought that if they were still in the process, I might offer to help with the last of it. I went up to my room first. To my horror, my door was still open and Katy was nowhere to be found. My hurt turned to fury. I searched for Katy for 20 minutes before finding her way back behind a dresser. All the time, my anger built. I knew if I said anything to my roommate, I would say all the wrong things. So, I didn't even go down to the basement to wish her well or say, "Goodbye." I just went to bed.

No, that was not very good of me. The scare over Katy just really pushed me over the edge. My friend stopped coming to church all together. There have been no phone calls, no stopping by.

Recently, I found a Fed Ex package on my deck addressed to her. Sigh. Knowing I would more likely get a response by calling her at work, I dialed. It took a minute for it to sink in as to who I was. She thought I was asking to speak to her office mate named Amy. I explained and told her that a package was on the deck if she wanted to come get it.

God: "Why don't you ask her to have dinner?"

Ignoring that, I did manage to say, "So, how have you been?"

My ex roommate: "Not really so great. My aunt died and things aren't going well."

God: "Ask her for dinner."

Me to God: "Why?"

Me to my ex roommate: "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope everything else is going well."

Ex roommate: "Not really."

God: "Because I forgave you."

Me to my ex roommate: "Sorry to hear that. Anyway, the package will be on the deck."

Anyway, the package will be on the deck? No, I did not score high in the compassion part at that moment. Not even, "Maybe we could talk a bit when you come to get it."

Clearly, there is some forgiveness on my part that needs to happen. I have not let her move on from all of that.

It has all gotten me thinking about change.

The mark of a good book is that you cannot wait to see how things end up but become sad when you find yourself nearing the end! Perhaps it is even more true when there is a good series. As you may know, I've been reading the Chronicles of Narnia from beginning to end. There are seven. I felt my heart sink a bit to find that I am ready to begin the last book -- The Last Battle.

This means that I have recently finished The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and The Silver Chair. We are introduced to Eustace in the Dawn Treader. He is a cousin of the children. When Edmund and Lucy get pulled back into Narnia, Eustace gets pulled in as well. You quickly discover that he is an absolutely beastly boy -- mean, arrogant, selfish. At one point, an enchantment turns him into a dragon.

To become "disenchanted" Aslan tells him to go into a pond. But before he can go in, Aslan tells him that he must undress. Eustace correctly determines that he must shed his skin. He does this, but as soon as he does, another dragon skin appears. Aslan says that he, Aslan, must help him. Though it is very painful Eustace lets Alsan sink his claws in and peel off every inch of the dragon skin.

At the end of the chapter, Lewis writes the following:

It would be nice and fairly true, to say that "from that time forth Eustace was a different boy." To be strictly accurate, he began to be a different boy. He had relapses. There were still many days when he could be very tiresome. But most of those I shall not notice. The cure had begun.

These great words can apply to our lives as Christians. We are beginning to be different as God strips us clean. But like Eustace, we may have relapses and days when we are tiresome. But God knows that is not that end of the story. Hopefully those around us "shall not notice," because they know the cure has begun and we are in the process of becoming.

Having experienced a lack of forgiveness as well as forgiveness, you might have expected me to act with more forgiveness rather than less. Sadly, I didn't. But the hope is in the fact that I recognize it. I plan to call her this week and see if we might have dinner sometime as God suggested to me. Hopefully, God can even use a slow obedience.

Just as Eustace was becoming a different boy. I am becoming a different woman.

Finding a Bigger God

I've been reading the Chronicles of Narnia for fun. I read them along time ago, but I've found there are so many things I didn't remember. It has also been interesting to read them in order. Though I found The Magician's Nephew a bit slow at first, it picked up and was fun to understand some of the history of Narnia. For example, I know know why there is a lamp post in Narnia and how all the trouble with the White Witch began.

I'm now in the midst of Prince Caspian. (Yes, the movie makers took some liberties.) However, I was delighted to come across this passage:

The great beast rolled over on his side so that Lucy fell, half sitting and half lying between his front paws. He bent toward and just touched her nose with his tongue. His warm breath came all around her. She gazed up into the large wise face.

"Welcome, child," he said."

"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."

"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.

"Not because you are?"

"I am not. but every year you grow, you will find me bigger."

I don't remember it being in the movie, but it caught my attention in the book because it felt so true of God. It seems that the older I get the more I should understand about God. Perhaps, I do understand more than when I became a Christian at thirteen. But, the more I know about God, the more I am struck by how much more there is to know about God. In that sense, as I grow I find God bigger and bigger.

Hopefully, the bigness of God will always make me stand in awe.

The Lame Shall Leap -- Hope Chronicles 48

As I wrote in a post last week, I enjoyed the new Narnia -- Prince Caspian movie even if they did add and change a few things. It's made me want to go back and read the books and see what lines up.

Please indulge me. I do know it is a story. But today, it somehow got into my mind how odd it must have been (even in a pretend sort of way) for Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy to go back to England after being in Narnia. How odd would it be to grow up and be kings and queens in a magical land and to suddenly be thrust back into your old life? Would your adult self feel strange to be thrust back into a child's body? Would something about you, your experience, feel as if it pushed against the boundaries of the normal world?

The movie lets on that the children were feeling pretty dissatisfied with ordinary life. Peter even got into a fight. (I checked and that bit isn't in the book.) It seems "realistic" though. To go from being king to an ordinary boy would be a hard change!

I think there is a piece that relates to our life as Christians. I have, at times, had "mountain top" experiences. These are places where you feel so close to God that you cannot help but be changed. In the Old Testament, Moses met with God as a man meets with a friend. It so changed him that his face radiated God's glory and he had to wear a veil. In some ways, his experience with God pushed against the boundaries of a normal, ordinary world.

When have you felt changed by being in God's presence? As I mentioned before, I often think of it more in terms of those special get-away type things. But it doesn't have to be that. Moses met with God every day. As Mose met with God, God expanded his understanding of his glory.

We may not visibly glow as Moses did, but do our lives push outside the normal boundaries of the everyday life?

For me this week it has been learning about compassion. I don't believe in coincidences, so when God brings me in contact with three disabled people in one week, I suspect there is something to be learned.

The first was when I was walking on Monday. There was a man pulled up to an outside table. Well, he was actually pulled up to the bench in a wheel chair. Since he couldn't get closer to the table, he was hunched over and leaning forward to eat from the bench. Both of his legs were in casts. He dropped his fork and let out a string of curses. I came upon him from the back. He was genuinely surprised when I picked it up for him. He thanked me, but then I moved on.

The second was in the office. We often find that we speak a different "language" than some of the people coming in. They use words for documents and procedures that have different meanings than they intend. It frustrates them and us. I was helping a man at the counter. He kept ducking his head in what I thought was an odd manner. But over the course of our 15 minute interaction, he finally had to look at me. I realized that one eye was completely white like the white part of the eyeball missing the iris and pupil. Something told me, "Don't look away. Everyone does that." I'll admit that it was disconcerting. But I met his gaze and explained once more. This time, my explanation, took hold.

The third was as I was getting on the elevator. A man got off. He was drenched from the torrential rain we had just had. As we were in the lower part of the building and he looked bewildered, it was easy to conclude that he was lost. I asked, "Can I help you find something?" He slumped a bit and then held out the sodden papers and gestured. He couldn't hear and didn't seem to be able to speak.

They were tax papers. That is not my area. I glanced at the papers and motioned to him to follow me to an office I thought could help. I picked the right office, but the woman at the counter wasn't about to let me go. She talked to me rather than him. I didn't know if he read lips or not, but the angle seemed like it would be awkward. I found myself grabbing a pen and paper and jotting things to him. He seemed relieved to have the means to communicate. But just like the woman at the counter, he turned to me and had me relay it!

One of my favorite Bible stories is when Jesus feeds the 5,000. It says that Jesus had compassion on them. Compassion is more than feeling sorry for someone. It is coupled with a desire to alleviate the suffering you see.

All of the instances I related were actually very small instances compared to what they look like here -- a couple minutes to fifteen or so. And it's not that I did any wonderful things: picking up a fork, making eye contact, and jotting some sentences. The bigger thing, I think, was being moved by compassion.

It struck me after the last instance that all three ailments were ones that are mentioned in connection with Jesus:

• "Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy." (Isaiah 35:6 in a prophecy about the Messiah)
• "In that day the deaf will hear the words of the scroll, and out of gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind will see." (Isaiah 29:3)
• "Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped." (Isaiah 35:5)
• The healing of the deaf and mute man in Mark 7.
• All of the healings probably apply.

Jesus came to save. But He also came to make us whole. Each of these men represented some aspect of that awaiting promise to me. We may not have wholeness yet, but we will. Jesus has too much compassion on us to have it any other way. He is moved by our suffering. When we let ourselves be moved by compassion for others, I think it pushes against that normal, ordinary kind of being in the world. While I didn't work any great miracles, God did let me alleviate some suffering in some small ways. There is hope in knowing that God chooses to use us at all.

And of course, there is hope in knowing that our souls that upon coming to know God, in some ways, have become too big for our frail bodies will one day be released into Jesus' waiting embrace.

Heart's Posture, Belief, and Not Alone

I saw Narnia Chronicles -- Prince Caspian last weekend. I highly recommend it and I don't recommend movies that often! (See yesterday's blog for clips.) I want to share some about it without giving it all away.

So, without too much detail, here are some of my thoughts. Primarily, I think it is about the heart's posture. You get to see it from several different perspectives: Peter's decision to move without Aslan, Edmond's contrast to where he was in the The Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe, Susan's disenchantment as she realizes that the problem with Narnia is that they ever have to leave, Caspian's humility, and Lucy's unerring belief. They are woven together almost seamlessly.

I love the way it asks the question throughout, "Do you want to believe?" It seems that most of the characters (though not all) struggle with some aspect of belief. Do they believe each other? Do they remain true to what they know about Aslan? What is the role of wanting to believe in seeing?

It my mind the story of Jesus not being able to heal in Nazareth because of their unbelief rises up.

Throughout the movie, "Where is Aslan?" is asked. The Narnians struggle at first to even accept the Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy as the kings and queens of old. As one says, "Aslan disappeared the same time you lot did." Ouch! And from a Narnian perspective it must have felt like abandonment. And even the children must try to figure out where Aslan is . . . . In his abscence and under the tyranny of the neighboring realm, even the trees have gone deep within themselves and never dance.

I know there have been times in my life when I have felt abandoned even by God. I gave up on church for a time. I have, at times, retreated deep within myself. But God is always inviting us to dance.

At one point, Lucy, the youngest faces the invading army alone. She pulls out a small knife and stares unwaveringly at the approaching army. But she is anything but alone . . . . I shall not say more lest I give it away but think Red Sea . . . .

My one disappointment was that my favorite passage from the book (Yes, I've read them all) was slightly changed.

"Lucy, he said, "we must not lie here for long. You have work in hand, and much time has been lost today."

"Yes, wasn't it a shame?" said Lucy. "I saw you all right. They wouldn't believe me. They're all so --"

From some where deep inside Aslan's body there came the faintest suggestion of a growl.

"I'm sorry," said Lucy, who understood some of his moods. "I didn't mean to start slanging the others. But it wasn't my fault anyway, was it?"

The Lion looked straight into her eyes.

"Oh, Aslan," said Lucy. "You don't mean it was? How could I -- I couldn't have left the others and come up to you alone, how could I?" Don't look at me like that . . . . oh well, I suppose I could. Yes, and it wouldn't have been alone, I know, not if I was with you. But what would have been the good?"

"You mean," said Lucy rather faintly, "that it would have turned out all right -- somehow? But how? Please Aslan! Am I not to know?"

"To know what would have happened child?" said Aslan. "No. Nobody is ever told that."C.S. Lewis

I love that passage. "To know what would have happened? No one is ever told that." And it speaks to following even when others you trust won't follow with you . . . .

If you've seen the movie, whose heart mirrors yours the most and why? Do you have a favorite clip/part? Post about it and leave a link with Mister Linky and we'll come read . . . .

The Best Is Yet To Be -- Hope Chronicles 43

Life is hard. People say things and I get hurt. There are unexpected expenses of which the almost $4.00 per gallon gas prices are the least of the worries. Friends move away. The depression worsens and I don't sleep for almost 8 weeks. (Happily, the sleep has been better the last two weeks.) There a bills to pay and things around the house that need doing and I don't have the time or energy. And there is the loneliness.

I picked up a book at B&N to check out. I grabbed the wrong one. I read parts of it and knew that while I definitely identified, I was probably identifying too much. It was best not to finish it, save it for another time. But I will share a piece from it. It is called Suddenly by Barbara Delinsky. One of the main characters commits suicide and leaves the town wondering why. Paige finds some unmailed letters and in them Mara writes eloquently about being outwardly successful but being so alone. She says something to the effect of, "What really matters is that in the middle of the night, when all the trappings are gone, I am alone." Yes, that feeling resonates with me.

I've found myself telling myself that if this could be this way or this could be that way then my life would be fine. At the core of those things is having enough money to take care of what needs to be taken care of. (I'm not having much financial peace at the moment in spite of taking that class.) But push past that anxiety and you will find a world of "what ifs?"

• What if I had gone to a different college?
• What if I had stayed on staff with InterVarsity?
• What if I had dated in high school or college?
• What if I had turned left instead of right and met the love of my life around the corner?
• What if, what if, what if?

But they are questions that won't get answered and keep us looking in the wrong direction.

Prince Caspian comes out today in the theatres. I'm saving money and not going right now. I don't know if it is good or not, but I remember the book and this marvelous conversation Aslan has with Lucy. She has seen him up high all day and wanted to go up to him but no one would listen or follow. When she does go to him, he tells her that much time has been lost. She starts to blame the others and Aslan gives a low growl. Lucy says, "Well I couldn't have come up alone? I couldn't have, could I? Oh, Aslan, am I not to know!"

A wise Aslan says, "To know what may have happened? No, child, no one is ever told that."

I think it is a mercy that we aren't told. A mercy and a warning not to go down the "what if" trail second guessing.

Two things happen for me. I focus a lot on what has happened in the past. I was severely abused. I was emotionally tortured. I had a crummy childhood and it is easy to be angry about that. The anger is justified, but it doesn't do much good if it keeps me stuck in a loop of looking and being angry over and over again. So, I get stuck in the past.

And I get stuck in the present. I get driven down by the bills and gas prices. I feel lonely at night especially. Spend time thinking, if x +b happened, life would be perfect. I focus on all the things that are not meeting up to what I want (husband and kids at the top of the list).

But when I focus so intently on those things, I lose perspective and I lose hope. Yesterday is gone. Today is fleeting. And the best is yet to be.

The best is yet to be. Jesus is coming to get me. Knowing that should make everything else pale in comparison. Jesus is coming specifically for me. I want to always be ready, emotionally, spiritually ready for his call. And he will usher me in to heaven, the best that is yet to be. All of this down here is about getting ready to meet God face to face. So, I should not devalue any experience, any person, any interaction. All of them may be preparing me to meet God.

Yes, they don't quite look like I what I might want, wonder, beg for, but they are part of my preparation before I'm ready for heaven.

Heaven is fact. Think about that. No matter how bad today was (and it was dozy for me), the best is yet to be. It works if you had a great day too. You can look and be thankful and then stand in wonder, "The best is yet to be. This goodness will pale."

Hope is recognizing the murk and mud in our lives, acknowledging the past, plodding through the present, but fixing our eyes on what is yest to be. And it will be the 5 star galaxy kind of best.

Today, as I lapsed into my lament, I found myself thinking, I don't need a what. I need a who. Particularly I was thinking of a friend or a mate. But God gently reminded me, "You already have a who. You have me. Keep pressing on and let me worry about the rest."

I have hope because the best is yet to be and because he who is the absolute BEST is with me.

Tell me about an area you struggle to keep Jesus at the forefront of . . . .

Redeem -- Hope Chronicles 26

I love words. I love stringing them together to create meaning. I love beautifully crafted sentences that make me pause and read them again. For good or evil, words also have power. I try -- though I don't always succeed -- to be careful with my words.

Perhaps it is my love affair with words that makes my heart trill over the opening of the book of John. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made." Jesus is the Word. God spoke and the world was created. I love that.

Our language (individually and as a culture) show us what is important to us. Did you know that the Eskimos have 32 different words for our single word "snow"? Thirty-two! I can only think of a handful of words that have to do with snow: snow, flurries, sleet, freezing rain, blizzard. Four to five words (depending on how you count "freezing rain") compared to thirty-two. That speaks volumes as to the centrality and importance of snow to the Eskimos.

I'm always fascinated to learn the original Greek or Hebrew word for something. As with the Eskimos, sometimes there are multiple words for something we lump into one word. What is it that makes English or American culture just lump things together or always look for the short cut. Here's my anguished prediction, in a matter of years, we are going to completely de-evolve into just using letters as if we were texting -- bff, lol, dml, and xyz!

This week God has had me thinking about the word "redeem." From a purely cultural/secular standpoint, what do you most readily think of redeeming. Coupons was what I first came up with. And what do they usually have written on them. "Not redeemable for cash" or "No cash value." In other words, it is only good for this one particular item on this particular time and probably you have to buy two or more . . . .

But that is so far from God's perspective on redemption. Christians may know this, but does it ever impact our view or use of the word "redeem"?

I looked up redeem on the internet. Here is some of what I found:

• to exchange for money or goods
• to discharge or fulfill (as in a pledge)
• to make up for; to make amends
• to obtain the release or restoration of, as from captivity, by paying a ransom.
• to deliver from sin and its consequences by means of a sacrifice offered for the sinner.

The last two -- release from captivity and deliver via a means of sacrifice for a sinner -- both closely fit the Christian concept of redemption. We are released from the captivity of sin. Jesus was the sacrifice on our behalf.

I don't know the Greek or Hebrew for it. But I think even those two definitions are somewhat lacking. Yes, there is a release paid for by a sacrifice. But more than that, I think it is a making whole of something that was splintered and fragmented. Our relationship with God was splintered and fragmented. Jesus brings us back into a "whole" relationship with God.

To be truthful, it is probably a "becoming" because we probably couldn't handle being thrust directly into God's presence at this moment. But is a "becoming" with the assurance of the the final end.

So, I have two questions to ponder. First, am I leading a "whole/redeemed" life? Second, am I helping those around me to lead that kind of life?

One of my favorite quotes from CS Lewis is this:

"It is a serious thing to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship or else a horror and a corruption such as you meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long, we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of those overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealing with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people."

We can have hope because we are redeemed and whole. May we be mindful to help those around us to that redeemed and whole place safe in God's hands.