When John the Baptist heralded the coming of the Messiah, he used the words of the Prophet Isaiah, saying, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight paths for Him. Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill made low. The crooked roads shall become straight, the rough ways smooth (Luke 3:3-5).” And I believe that this imagery was meant to portray to the Jews (& ultimately to those of us who would one day be grafted into the covenant) what His coming could mean to them. The redeeming work of the cross would soon facilitate the abiding presence of God in their lives, and put an end to their long cycle of seeking Him in times of oppression, and drifting from Him in times of prosperity. With the Spirit of God active in their day to day lives, He could become their source for life, love, security, provision, strength, hope, and justice. By becoming partakers of the divine nature, they would no longer be at the mercy of their fickle human nature. These images speak of the steadiness that naturally flows out of that kind of singular focus. So great was God’s plan to dwell within them, that Jesus told His disciples it was actually better that He would leave them, so that the Spirit could come. And in looking at the first century church, we see those words largely validated.
But as we endeavor to make straight pathways in our own lives, it doesn’t always seem to work out. Sadly, many who identify themselves by the name of Jesus live lives of quiet desperation; often times battling sickness, depravity, insecurity, abandonment, depression, condemnation, fear… Though we can have some mountain top experiences, we often find ourselves in the depths of the valley. Like a person trying to plant a garden, we try to cut a straight row, only to turn and see that it’s anything but.
Experienced gardeners tell me that the best way to till a straight row is to fix your eye on a specific point (on the opposite side of the plot), and to plow directly toward it. This would seem to be the same advice the scripture gives us, as the Hebrew writer tells us, “fix your eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of your faith (Heb. 12:2),” and Paul says, “whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things (Phil 4:8).” Along with scriptures like, “be anxious for nothing (Phil. 4:6)”, “let not your heart be troubled (John 14:27)”, and “Don’t worry about tomorrow. It will take care of itself (Matt. 6:34)”, the New Testament is filled with directives about what we need to be focused on, and what we can’t afford to concentrate on. If our God, who is the same yesterday, today and forever, becomes our singular reference point, then our pathways can’t help but straighten out.
Many would cite the manic nature of our spiritual walk as evidence of poor faith, but I think that conclusion requires a little further dissection. Some see the terms “believing” and “faith” as being synonymous, but I would disagree. At its lowest level, believing can be very superficial, and little more than mental assent. We believe a lot of things in the abstract, or in principle, that never really make their way into our practice. For instance, I believe in eating a healthy diet and exercising regularly, but my normal pattern doesn’t necessarily reflect that notion. My tendency to overload my schedule, and to eat on the run, generally takes precedence over that concept. Faith, even at its lowest level, requires more than that. It requires enough belief to make us willing to risk something, and maybe even to act upon it. Because I was raised in church, I always “believed” that there was a God, and that His son Jesus died for my sins. But it wasn’t until my early thirties, when the life I’d built without Him began to collapse, that I actually found the faith to fully invest myself, and my life, in Him. I sense that many others are living this same kind of existence, where they claim to believe, but have little or nothing really invested in it.
The wisdom of the world encourages us to diversify our investments as a hedge against big losses, but the wisdom of God calls us to put all our eggs in one basket. The erratic, and sometimes tortured, path we take is an indication of which philosophy is prevalent in our lives. To the degree that our identity is invested in Him, we should be able to walk free from the oppression of what other people might say or do, and from the identity crisis’s that so frequently beset the natural man. To the degree that our security and hope are invested in Him, we should be able to walk free of anxiety, fear, and depression. The Lord tells us that everything in the seen realm is perishing, so investing ourselves in temporal things sets us up for disappointment and failure. The old axiom says, “you can’t take it with you.” But for those who’ve invested themselves in the eternal kingdom, that’s not really true. Straight pathways may not be the norm, but if we’re willing to adopt a singular reference point, they could become our destiny.
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Thought for the Day – The Village Voice
Posted in Commentaries, Parenting / Family, Thought for the Day / Quotes, tagged inspiration, it takes a village, parenting, teachers on May 13, 2015| Leave a Comment »
I have to admit that I’m not particularly fond of the saying, “It takes a village to raise a child.” My disdain for this phrase is rooted in the fact that it is too often used as a rationalization for disengaged parenting, and by social engineers, who are trying to disguise their political agenda as some sort of genuine concern for the welfare of children. Despite that, I can’t deny that there is also a measure of profound truth within this idiom. As the father of four, I’ve always endeavored to maintain a daily presence in the lives of my children, and to have a separate relationship with each one of them. For the most part, I’ve lived up to that expectation, but I’ve also discovered that there are instances, and seasons, when the kids need something, or someone, else. At times, parents are too close to the situation to be objective; sometimes our fears cause us to push too hard, or maybe not hard enough. Sometimes we’ve done all we know how to do, and we need to introduce a new element into the situation. And sometimes our kids just need to hear it from someone else.
Years ago, our youngest daughter (Bekah) was struggling with reading, and we discovered that she had issues with her eyesight. Upon addressing her vision problems, we knew that she needed help to get her reading level back up to where it belonged. Unfortunately, by this time she was already highly frustrated with our persistent attempts to assist her, and things weren’t progressing well. Thankfully, we found a wonderful lady (Mary) who was willing to work with her, and they very quickly formed a special bond. Though it took a little time, her reading and writing steadily improved, and within a few years she had regained both her confidence and competence. By then, their relationship had become so strong that she continued to go each week, and to work on other subjects as well. Over time this amazing lady became much more than a tutor, and we have come to view her as a special part of our family. In recent years, Bekah has blossomed as a reader, writer, and student. She is currently a Freshman in High School, where she’s maintained her grades on the High Honor Roll (>3.5 GPA) all year, and where she was recently awarded a scholarship for winning an essay contest. At this point, she reads and writes more than our other three kids combined. But more than the improved academic performance, Mary’s loving investment in Bekah as a person has paid untold dividends. Years from now, I’ve no doubt that Bekah will remember this beloved friend and teacher as one of the greatest influences in her life.
Similarly, there have been many other teachers, coaches, youth group leaders, neighbors… who’ve had a profound influence on our kids. When our son Andrew was younger, he played basketball for a coach who absolutely destroyed his confidence. After that experience, he decided that even though he loved the game, he just wasn’t cut out to play. Despite our encouragement to give it another try, he wasn’t willing to do it; and for years he didn’t. But as fate would have it, the new high school basketball coach became his homeroom teacher, and he saw potential in Andrew. It was his encouragement that convinced our son to give it another try, and last Fall, he was a starter on the Freshman team.
More recently, after our son Patrick made the high school’s baseball team, he had the chance to be a part of the school’s Spring musical, “Guys & Dolls”. Initially he felt sure his coaches would never allow him to miss practices, and maybe even games, to participate in the play. But to his great surprise, the coach acknowledged what a great opportunity this was for Patrick, and allowed him to both stay on the team, and to try out for the musical. At the first try out for the play, he only went for a small part, believing that was all he was qualified for. But during the call back, his Choir teacher asked why he hadn’t tried out for one of the leads. Patrick explained that since he sang bass in the choir, and that all of the leading parts were for tenors, he didn’t think he could do them. His teacher then expressed her confidence in his voice, and challenged him to go for the more substantial role of “Nicely, Nicely Johnson.” Inspired by her vote of confidence, Patrick took the challenge, and got the part. After months of hard work, he and the rest of cast gave two spectacular performances this weekend. It is an experience that he will remember for the rest of his life, and it could very well open up new avenues for him in the future. Had his baseball coach been more worried about wins & loses than about Patrick, he might never have gotten the chance to tryout. If his Choir teacher had not recognized his potential, and encouraged him to reach for it, Pat might never have discovered it.
As a parent, I am grateful for these, and the many other wonderful, people who reach out to our children. As much as I want to be there for them, I must acknowledge that they often need things that I can’t necessarily give them. My vote of confidence in Bekah’s ability to read, or Andrew’s ability to play basketball, or Patrick’s ability to sing/perform, wasn’t enough to get them over that mountain. But thankfully, there were people who stepped into those areas and made the difference. Just as people have reached out to our children, we’ve learned to reach out to other children within our community. It is an opportunity to return the blessing that we’ve received. Even though I still cringe when I say it, it really does take a village to raise a child, and to that end, I want to thank all of you who’ve been such a special part of our village.
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