God's Call Waiting

"Be faithful where you are while you wait for God's call..."
by John Ortberg

I keep a small rock on my desk with a single word painted on it: naviget. I cherish that rock. My wife gave it to me during a spell that was dry for me and hard for us; when I felt like my past was crumbling and I was not sure what the future held. And if you don't know Latin, keep reading; you'll eventually find out what it means.


I first came across this word in a wonderful article by theologian Gilbert Meilander called "Divine Summons." The article was about the notion of calling and vocation, which have long been vexing subjects for me, because I wondered if I would ever get one.

I have been a pastor for a long time now. When I was ordained in the Baptist church, one of the questions I knew was coming was, "Tell us about your 'call.'" In our tradition, if you became a pastor, you had to have a "call": a mystical, vivid, (but non-charismatic) experience in which you have an inner sense/compulsion/Voice (but never quite audible) that tells you to become a preacher.

"Only become a preacher if you cannot do anything else," the old-timers would say knowingly. And many people followed that advice, which may be why the competency bar for preachers got set pretty low.

I come from a long line of pastors. My great-grandfather, Robert Bennet Hall, got his call working in a small grocery store more than a century ago. He had run away from the orphanage where he grew up and married a grocer's daughter. He was sweeping out the storeroom when he got the call. My brother-in-law got the call when he was working in a grocery store in our old hometown of Rockford, Illinois. Possibly my problem was that I never worked at a grocery store.

Because I never got that kind of call, I could have done other things besides be a pastor. Probably not too well, but I could have done them. I was open to a call. I asked for one. But Heaven was silent. I had to figure out what to do myself. Being a pastor seemed like a good fit for what I understood of my gifts, and it seemed worth the effort.

But I never got marching orders. Partly, I think, it may have been because God knows that I will grow much more as a person if I have to figure things out and exercise judgment and make a decision and accept responsibility than if I just got a postcard and followed directions. Another reason may be that I don't think God separates people into "pastor" groups that have to get calls and "non-pastor" groups that are call-free.

I have worked at churches where the expectation was that if you were on staff, you had "the call," places where everyone sensed that if they were not working at that church they would be guilty of disobedience. I never got that kind of call. I don't think it's necessary or (sometimes) even healthy. I think calling is much more God's business, often expressed through the voice of his community. I think someone can have a fabulous calling without knowing everything about it.

I also think that the whole language around calling can lead churches and pastors to be less honest than the people we serve. Presidents fire cabinet members. Football coaches switch schools to make more money or lead bigger programs. But in a church, we have a hard time talking honestly about why staff people leave. We paper over toxic cultures and power struggles with sanctified spin: "He got a call from the Lord" or "I just had this restless sense in my spirit—I couldn't explain why."

Eventually, I quit pestering God about it. I decided he probably had good reasons to give me the level of information and direction that he gave me, and if he wanted to say any more, he would make it clear. Nevertheless, as I have gotten older, younger people interested in church ministry often talk to me about the notion of calling.

"Tell me about your call," a recent seminary grad once said. "I think I have the call, and I just hope I can last in ministry as long as you have." I was 45 at the time, but it made me feel very old.

When I came to Menlo Park, it was a by-now-familiar decision process. I did not sense God telling me to go or stay. My best understanding was that I was free to make the decision. I had been here for a couples of years when we had a bad weekend: staff departures, serious misbehavior, an ugly congregational meeting, budget problems—everything bad happened at once.

I had recently read Gordon MacDonald's book The Resilient Life, in which he talks about how his mom never finished what she started, and he was sobered by the possibility of having a "quitters gene." I had never thought of myself as a quitter, but I reflected on how I don't like being frustrated; how I can feel that life should come easily to me.

I was driving down Stanford Avenue one day when a thought came unbidden: John, take your being at this church as my call on your life. Don't waste energy asking if someone else could do the job better. Don't waste energy asking if some other place could be more fulfilling. If you put your hand to the plow and don't look back, you will grow in ways you otherwise never would.

And it was a strange moment, after almost 30 years of church ministry, to have a call in that more specific and mystical sense.

It hasn't been particularly romantic. Sometimes it's more of a pain in the neck. Which brings me back to the article by Meilander. He writes about how Aeneas, in Virgil's The Aeneid, has a divine summons to be the founder of Rome—"I am the man/whom heaven calls." But building Rome is not what Aeneas wants to do. He is forced to give up his love and his attachment to the past.

For a calling is very different than a quest for fulfillment. A calling, though we glamorize it, is not glamorous. It is a response to a summons. It is a kind of surrender. It is a willingness to die to the past and move to the future. C.S. Lewis wrote, "To follow the vocation does not mean happiness, but once it has been heard, there is no happiness for those who do not follow."

Aeneas does not want to leave his home to follow his calling; it means leaving old dreams and old loves. But there is a larger and better destiny to which he is called to submit. So Jupiter says of him, "That man should sail."

And he does. Sailing means embracing the pain of leaving behind what he thought was his comfort and fulfillment. It means trusting that somehow he is not just moving into the future; he is being led. It is Abraham leaving Ur for he knows not what. It is Moses leaving Egypt for a land he will never enter. It is Jesus walking the Via Dolorosa toward a hill he does not want to climb.

"That man should sail." It meant—a little like Jim Carrey in The Truman Show—it's better to have the faith to embrace reality with all its pain than to cling to the false comfort of a painless fantasy. That life and growth and meaning can come only in the risk of obedience. The future—even if it's hard—is better than nostalgia.

It meant that in leaving port there was something to sail to. It meant hope.

"That man should sail." I did. I have. I am. The phrase in Virgil is a single Latin word written on the rock my wife gave me in love and trust. The word sits on my desk each day to remind me: Naviget.

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Hurry Sickness

by Joanie Yoder, October 25, 2007, ODB

"Hurry up!" "We're late!" "You're too slow!" How often do impatient words crop up in our speech, revealing our fast-paced life? If we're not careful, we become people living in the fast lane, demanding quick arrivals and instant results. Stress experts call this "hurry sickness".

In Philippians 3, the apostle Paul's testimony of lifelong growth reminds us that Christian maturity can be encouraged but not hurried. In this book Overcomers Through the Cross, Paul Billheimer says that just as God takes time to make an oak tree, He takes time to make a saint. Christian growth is a life-long process.

Billheimer writes, "An unripe apple is not fit to eat, but we should not therefore condemn it. It is not yet ready for eating because God is not done making it. It is a phase of its career and good in its place."

Are you feeling impatient over your spiritual growth? Remember, God is not finished with you, nor does He expect to be until He calls you home. Make sure that your goal is to know Christ and to become more like Him. Then slowly but surely, under blue skies and stormy, He will bring you to maturity. It's His sure cure for the "hurry sickness."

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The Heart of Love and Charity

How "Mother" Louise Hunter turned a life of hardship into a mission of hope.
By Amy Adair

On a blustery February night in 1966, a sheriff rapped on Louise Hunter's door. Claiming the family of 16 was in violation of Racine, Wisconsin's public health code, he ordered the Hunters to vacate their two-bedroom house within 24 hours. With no money and no place to go, Louise started to pray.

A day later, there was another knock on the door. This time it was a local pastor who offered to sell the Hunter family an 18-room house for a dollar. Louise instantly knew it was a miracle. As thanks, she prayed that God would use her to help others in need. According to Louise, that's when God gave her a vision for a mission called Love and Charity.

"From that day on," Louise, who is known as Mother Hunter, says, "in my heart and in my mind, I wanted to help somebody."

Mother Hunter, who is now 72 years old, has devoted her life to helping the desolate and homeless. She has a keen understanding and gentle awareness of the needs of the poor, because poverty and pain have defined her own life.


A Life of Heartache and Grief
Born in Vicksburg, Mississippi, during the Great Depression, Mother Hunter was raised in a poor farming community and worked in the cotton fields. She grew up too fast, and by the time she was 20 she was unemployed and a single mother of three young children. Returning to her childhood faith, she prayed for a husband. She met a man named James Hunter. They married and eventually had 18 children together. Her marriage was tumultuous, filled with heartache and grief. In 1976 the Hunter's 6-year old son, Thomas, died in a house fire. Two years later, James was killed in a car accident.

"When James died, I said to the Lord, 'Why would you take him and leave me with all of these children?'" Mother Hunter recalls. "I've had many heartaches and pains, but God made a way."

Life was even harder for Mother Hunter after she lost her husband. Her family wanted her to move back to Mississippi so they could help her raise her children. But she could not turn her back on Love and Charity. So, she kept the doors open and continued helping those in need. Her kids literally grew up at the mission, helping out whenever they could.

Mother Hunter's relentless faith that Jesus Christ can heal any wound, no matter how deep, is the foundation for Love and Charity. "If you do not suffer, what can you tell somebody?" Mother Hunter says. "In order to make it to where I am today, I had to go through some pain and sorrow. But Jesus stayed with me."

Open Door to Healing
Hoping to share her unwavering faith with all who walk through the doors, Mother Hunter is determined to keep Love and Charity a faith-based mission. In fact, she has refused to accept any federal aid. Though it would relieve mounting financial hardships, doing so would mean that Mother Hunter could no longer require every guest to attend Bible studies and church services. So instead she relies on donated food, clothes, and money. "It's all about getting Jesus on the inside," Mother Hunter says. "My mission is set up so that people can come out of darkness and see the light. This is what Love and Charity is all about."

While Love and Charity's door is always open, those who wish to stay must adhere to Mother Hunter's strict rules. Not only do they have to attend the mission's church services, but for the first ten days they can only leave Love and Charity to help pick up donated food from local businesses. If needed, they must enroll in drug or alcohol rehabilitation. When they are physically able, they have to find a job, set up a bank account, and save money toward their own apartment. "There's no time limit when you come here," Mother Hunter says. "You can stay five minutes or five years. I let everyone know that I'm willing to help them."

Mind on Jesus
It's no exaggeration to say that Mother Hunter has impacted thousands of lives. She's fed hungry kids, helped people find shelter, and even brought people back from the brink of suicide. Mother Hunter says that it is all the power of the Holy Spirit, and she is simply following God's calling.

Her story was recently published in Love and Charity: The Life and Story of Louise Hunter and Love and Charity Homeless Shelter (Publish America), by Reverend Dennis James Woods. Woods, a close family friend of the Hunters and the founder and pastor of Power of the Holy Ghost Deliverance Ministries Inc., served at Love and Charity in 1993.

"The book brought tears to my eyes," Mother Hunter admits. "I could hardly believe one human being went through so much suffering. I only made it because I kept my mind on Jesus."

Love and Charity is more than Mother Hunter's life story; it is a powerful reminder of the reality of homelessness and poverty, says Woods. Both Mother Hunter and Woods pray that readers will feel led to reach out to those in need.

"Mother Hunter seems to have a aura of God," Woods says. "Her whole life has been devoted to this ministry and her community."

Mother Hunter's energy is endless. In the late 1990s she opened a sister shelter, Love and Charity II, in Memphis, Tennessee. She still begins her day at five o'clock in the morning—ready to greet anyone who comes to Love and Charity with a warm meal and an open heart.

"Love and Charity is a ministry," she says. "It's a hard ministry at times. People don't even realize that tonight somebody is sleeping outside. Somebody's child. So I try to do all I can."

Amy Adair is a freelance writer living in the Chicago area.
Copyright © 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian magazine.
Click here for reprint information.

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Leggo My Leggings

(One of my favorite pieces of all time!)

My stirrup pants had too much giddyap and go!
Liz Curtis Higgs

The first time I saw a pair of leggings, they were on someone else's body—that of the Twiggy-sized teen seated next to me in a crowded doctor's office. With her huge t-shirt and long, red legs, she looked utterly charming and altogether comfy.

"Do they feel as good as they look?" I asked.
"You bet." She nodded emphatically, pinching a bit of fabric and stretching it out. "See? It springs right back. No sagging. No wrinkling."

Since my knees both sag and wrinkle, I was duly impressed with her Lycra-swathed limbs.


"What do you call them?"
"Leggings," she informed me, jumping to her feet when the receptionist called her name. "You oughta try 'em. They come in your size, too."

Cheeky.

I watched her go, wondering what sort of fashion statement my older-but-wider body might make in such a getup. Fire-engine red was out of the question, of course, but a nifty navy, a dove gray, a basic black—couldn't I pull that off? Especially if an oversized shirt fell well below my knees?

Well, well, well below.

When a favorite spring catalog arrived on my doorstep featuring leggings on page five—in my size!—I knew it was meant to be.

"Send me three pairs," I informed the woman taking my order by phone. "Black, gray, blue."
"Those colors are on back order, ma'am." Figures. "Until when?" I sighed.
"September. All we have in stock is red."

Uh-oh. I imagined my substantial thighs encased like firecrackers ready to explode. Or worse, like a pair of beefy summer sausages fresh from the grill.

I wanted to try a pair of leggings soooo badly, but red?

"They're on sale," the saleswoman tempted.
"Sold."
"Regular or stirrup?"
She had me there. "Stir what up?"

She explained that leggings came in ankle length or with a stirrup that slips over one's foot. "It prevents the pants from scooting up your leg." Was she suggesting my leggings could shrink into capri pants, then bike shorts, ending up as spandex underwear?
"Definitely stirrups," I decided. "One pair, my size, in red."

When my order arrived—in a #10 envelope—I slipped the leggings out of the package and held them up. They looked like something a child might wear. An especially small child. At Christmas. Still, that was my size printed on the label.

After wrestling them on, I was delirious with the results. They fit!

I quickly found an oversized, black-and-red t-shirt that almost reached my knees and matched perfectly. Just the thing for traveling, I decided. For the first time in a long time, I looked forward to my next out-of-town trip.

That fateful morning dawned sunny and cool—a legging kind of day if there ever was one. Dressed and packed, I faced the mirror one last time, hoping to quell a few nagging doubts. Were they too bright? Too tight? Did I look like I was headed for a pajama party? Whatever. I grinned at my reflection. "TWA, take me away."

Truth be told, I got a few odd looks at the ticket counter. Comfortable as I was, I had no intentions of fretting over their obvious gawking. The first leg (so to speak) of my trip was a breeze. When my plane landed in St. Louis, I bounded through the jetway and checked the monitor for my gate. Drat. The other end of the world. Ah, but with my zippy new duds, I'd be strolling in style, no?

Uh … no.

I started down the busy concourse with a carry-on bag in one hand, a bulging computer case in the other, and a mega-purse dangling from my shoulder. I picked up the pace when I heard the boarding announcement for my flight departing from Gate 33.

Without warning, disaster struck.

Maybe it was the speed with which I was traveling. Or my long-legged stride. Whatever the reason, with stirrups and gravity working against me, my leggings suddenly moved in the wrong direction: down.

The crotch dropped first. Silently, relentlessly, it started moving south. With both hands full, I was in no position to stop it. Anyway, a quick stop-and-yank would be beyond tacky. By Gate 10, the thing was halfway to my knees. Starting to panic, I slowed down. By Gate 15, I was on full-tilt duck walk. By Gate 19, it was more turtle-like than ducky. My spirits were sinking right along with my traitorous leggings. I fumed, mentally composing a letter to the manufacturer. "Dear Sirs: What goes up must not come down."

I checked my watch. Oh, no! Ten minutes! I checked my leggings. Oh, no! Ten more inches! By Gate 22, I was in deep trouble. The waistband was wrapped around my knees. The fabric that used to cover my knees circled my ankles. I was reduced to walking like a geisha girl, moving forward with mincing steps. Passengers hurried past me—yes, snickering—while I tried to look nonchalant. No easy task when your face matches your bright red leggings.

Make that anklings.

"Let them hold the plane," I muttered, pressing my luggage against my knees and heading for safety. I ducked in the doorway marked Women—then stopped short when I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror by the sink. I'd been waddling through a crowded airport sporting nothing but bare legs and a t-shirt.

Leggings no more, they were now mere fetters for the fashion inept. Why not step out of them, you say? Not an option. That would leave my unshaven legs sticking out—pasty white as only spring legs can be, and flabby besides. Dropping my bags in a heap on the restroom floor, I gathered up my limp leggings and yanked them back in place. Only five gates to go. Could they stay up long enough to get me on that plane?

"Got any safety pins?"
The voice behind me belonged to a resourceful-looking woman wearing a friendly smile—and leggings. A sister! She was already digging in her purse, and soon produced a handful of silver safety pins.
"Pin the wasteband to your bra," she instructed, pointing me toward an empty stall. "Works like a charm." And so it did.

Firmly anchored and stretched to the max, my leggings and I took off at a full sprint for Gate 33 with nary a sag. Relieved to find the door still open and my seat waiting for me, I collapsed into 11-c and leaned back. And screamed.

The flight attendant was there in a heartbeat. "Ma'am, are you okay?"
"S-sure," I said, gingerly easing forward, trying to escape the sprung metal point. I never knew safety pins could be so unsafe. "I'm gonna need a Band-Aid."
"Certainly." She rummaged around her first aid kit. "Anything else?"
"Yeah." I winced when the second pin stabbed me in the front. "Duct tape. Preferably red."
She held up a ubiquitous roll. "Sorry. All I've got is this."

Dove gray. "Perfect."

Liz Curtis Higgs, a TCW columnist, is the author of 15 books and one novella, "Fine Print," featured in the anthology Three Weddings and a Giggle (Multnomah). She lives with her husband and two children in Kentucky.

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Not-so-quiet Desperation

An 'funny' discussion about Pastors' Wives. Glad that while I was going through the concerns aired, I realized how far God had helped me to understand about it and made me feel secure with many things I was once so concerned about. Late lesson learnt? No. Instead, what a perfect timing =) !

Not-so-quiet Desperation
A Leadership Interview

I thought I could handle being married to a pastor … but now I'm not so sure," says Lisa, a character in Desperate Pastors' Wives by Ginger Kolbaba and Christy Scannell (Howard, 2007). The novel tells the story of four pastors' wives in fictitious Red River, Ohio.

"It's a town so small that when you take out your garbage, people already know what's in it," Ginger says. We were first interested in the book because Ginger is a former Leadership staffer and currently editor of our sister publication Marriage Partnership. Our interest was further piqued when the authors appeared on Court TV to comment on a recent trial of a pastor's wife accused of killing her husband.


How has a fun, breezy novel tapped such a deep need?
The characters in our book are all desperate for something: love, faith, peace, fulfillment. They all live in the fishbowl of pastoral ministry. Their husbands don't understand the stress of being a pastor's wife, and they have no one to turn to. So these four women from different churches, different denominations start meeting together. They drive 40 miles out of town to meet at a small café. It's the one place where the façade can come down.

Why use a fiction? Surely there are true stories of hurting pastors' wives.
Unless it's a murder, who would read it? We wanted to be able to reach out to pastors' wives, but if we did so in a non-fiction, reportorial way, nobody would believe it. From the outside, pastors' families often look so perfect. We wanted church members to pick up the book and say, "Oh, my. I had no idea I was doing this to my pastor's wife. She's just like me, and I need to give her a break."

What kind of research did you do?
As a pastor's kid, I'm familiar with the struggles of pastors' families. And in my role as editor, I receive hundreds of letters from pastors' wives who have nobody to go to, and so they come to us. We interviewed women and surveyed their blogs, and we found there really is an underlying desperation in many of their marriages and relationships.

We also studied the polls. Global Pastors Network reports that 80 percent of pastors' wives say they feel left out and unappreciated by church members. You talk about desperate—that statistic really threw me: 80 percent? That's a lot of hurting, isolated women.

And 84 percent of pastors' wives feel unqualified and discouraged in their roles. More than half of pastor's wives said the most devastating thing that happened to their marriage was entering the ministry.

Do you think pastors would be surprised to know their wives are this unhappy?
Yes. Ministry wives face problems of calling and expectation. He's called, but is she? She is expected to be a role model and a first lady and to keep her whole family in perfect order. Everything she does and says reflects on her husband's ministry, and I don't think the men understand the stress that places on a woman. Their whole identity can be wrapped up in being the pastor's wife, and they begin to lose themselves, who they are.

And they have nowhere to go. If you're a pastor's wife and you're really ticked off at your husband because he isn't helping at home or he works too much or he's inadequate in bed, you can't go to the pastor to discuss it. You can't tell other women in the church.

So your use of the word desperate is not hyperbole.
Not at all. One woman told me, "I hate organized religion." After decades in small churches, she hates what the church is doing to her husband and their family. I was told, "I can worship God so much better when I'm not around church people." She was just being real. And I've heard that many times: life is messy, community is messy, and in too many churches it becomes nasty, and your soul takes the hits.

In your story you advocate the "safe place," where the pastors' spouses can open up in a protected environment. We found safe places on blogs, dozens of sites where pastors' wives are writing anonymously to get the toxins out of their systems. But how much real community is there on the Web? The friendship among the four women in our book is a rarity. At least it offers the hope that there are real friends out there and people who truly understand.

You have a ministry background. What was the novel's effect on you?
Therapeutic. My characters said things I couldn't because I was the pastor's daughter. One served a burnt casserole to the church leaders who had refused to replace the broken stove in the parsonage. In the end, they seemed like real, ordinary people, like me. Even with all the things the pastor's wife does and is expected to do, she's often invisible, and few people really appreciate who she is. I thought, I need to do more to express my gratitude to my pastor's wife—and to all pastors' wives.

Copyright © 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Leadership Journal.
Click here for reprint information onLeadership Journal.
Summer 2007, Vol. XXVIII, No. 3, Page 17

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Is God Letting Your Family Down?

Is God Letting Your Family Down?
By: Tim Palla
Contributing Writer

The portable incubator
Thanks to the local 4-H office I have an egg incubator in my study. I thought it would be a fun project -- for the kids, of course. As it turns out, it’s not a project at all. You set up the incubator, put eggs in the holders, set the thermostat to the correct temperature, and wait. That’s it. What was I thinking?

It takes 21 days for chicken eggs to hatch, but that’s irrelevant to the five resident egg inspectors that bear my last name. They intrude my study more now than ever -- especially the three youngest ones. "Hi, Dad! Just checking for peeps." I have a hunch this phrase will be repeated often enough to wear holes in my eardrums. "Hey Dad, will you call me if anything happens?" they inquire. "Sure will," I reply with a slight nod. The fact that I’ve answered that same question, or a variation of it, twice already this morning means nothing to them. They need my reassurance and I’ll continue to give it. This is one of my higher callings in life.


Seeing is believing
Fertilized bird eggs aren’t fair to their onlookers. Day after day, eggs look the same. Nothing changes. When the barn cat became pregnant, we watched her go from a size "00" to an 8-XXL in a matter of days. We knew when she was about to pop. It was obvious through the changes in her body. After the Collie was bred, we were mesmerized by the dozen or so spigots which protruded from her sagging abdomen. They appeared overnight. Nevertheless, there is nothing exciting about egg-watching. Eggs are boring. It’s always the same scene, just a different day.

There are several reasons why this could get frustrating. First of all, I don’t know which ones will hatch and which ones will rot. I can’t tell a fertilized egg from an unfertilized one at this point. Second of all, other than plugging in a couple of electrical cords, my work requires no effort, no specialized skill, no talent. I can’t make anything happen. My job is simply to wait. Zzzzzzzz… Zzzzzzzz… Zzzzzzzz…

It’s hard to be optimistic and excited when nothing changes. What thrill is there when, day in and day out, the temperature never varies and the shell is just as round and hard and smooth as it was the day before? Soon you hear yourself asking strange questions. "What if this is all in vain? What if nothing ever happens and it’s all a big joke? What if I’m disappointed? What if God lets me down?"

Seeing through God’s eyes
One morning it dawned on me. These eggs are not boring at all -- they’re actually encouraging. A dear friend from church was frustrated with a spouse who had no interest in spiritual things. "I pray and pray and pray. I talk and witness and then I cry, worry, and pray more. Still, nothing changes. It makes no difference."

Without missing a beat, I glanced over at the climate-controlled box on top of my file cabinet. I explained to my friend that life’s most awesome mysteries happen in the most boring places. When there’s no visible changes, no reason to believe, no hope on the horizon…then stand back and "see the salvation of the Lord." He works on the inside -- in the soul -- where no human eye can detect His secret ways.

Sure, things look the same on the outside, but only the Lord can see what’s going on in the heart. It may seem to us that nothing is changing. The outer shell still appears to be hard and stubborn, but who can tell what’s growing on the inside? Not me. My part is to trust, faithfully obey, and wait. I know I’ll be amazed when God reveals the power of His grace, but it’s hard to remember that grace is sown in the heart, not on the skin. We’re not Chia pets.

Out of the mouth of babes
Today, I was lifted and encouraged by 17 brown eggs. The Lord used them to teach me to "walk by faith, not by sight." I’m thankful that God has hid some things from my eyes and revealed other things to "babes." My own wide-eyed optimistic "babes" seem to have more revelation than I do at this point. There’s a lesson in it for me (and you), I’m sure.

Against my counsel, 3 of my youngest children have started picking out "chicken names." My daughter (the baby) will choose names like Jade (after one of her dolls) or Heather (a young woman who has recently started attending our church). The boys have chosen names based upon the size and shades of the sepia-toned shells: Big Brownie, Tiny Tan. Their creativity and optimism increase each day. They instinctively know that something’s "goin’-on" inside those eggs -- something they can’t see -- yet they expect the "big reveal" every day. They aren’t sitting back waiting for day 21 like their Dad, and they’re not bored.

For the next few days five inquisitive minds will sporadically gaze into a borrowed incubator from sunrise to sunset. Their anxious gestures will remind me that "faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." While you and I may look on the outside and think nothing has changed, God is diligently shaping what’s inside. Isn’t that where He always starts? If you have adopted the frustrating mindset of "nothing ever changes," remember that the miracle is occurring inside the egg. Today, have hope… and wait like a child.


Timothy Palla is the pastor of Fairview Baptist Church in the Lucasville/Minford area of Southern Ohio. He and his lovely wife Jennifer have five children; Drew, Dane, Aidan, Ethan, and Meghan. You may contact him at tpalla@rocketmail.com.

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Irreconcilable Differences—So?

Why you don't need to see things the same way.
By Mark Galli

It didn't take long into my marriage to discover how incompatible my wife and I were. One reason I was attracted to Barbara in the first place was her apparent interest in theology. We'd spent many happy hours in college taking Bible and religion classes together; we even co-wrote a mediocre paper on the Reformation! Few people have my nutty interest in theology, so I felt especially blessed to have discovered an eligible woman who shared that interest. I proposed as quickly as I could, and I was ready to live happily ever after.

Some days into the marriage I was shocked to discover the truth about Barb. I'd just finished some weighty tome—such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Creation and Fall—and encouraged her to read it. She said she wasn't interested. When over the next week I suggested another theology book, and then another, and was turned down repeatedly, I asked what was going on.

"I really don't like theology all that much."
"But what about … ?" I stammered.
"Once in awhile it's okay. But most of the time I find it too dry."

I was floored. Here was the woman of my dreams telling me she wasn't really the woman of my dreams.


That was the first of many shocking revelations. As the years unfolded and we each matured in our own way, the differences became more marked. She liked to get up early; I liked to stay up late—so when exactly were we supposed to have sex? She stayed politically liberal as I became more conservative. She enjoyed being laid back; I liked to plan way in advance. She's energized by a room full of people; I'm drained. She thought the kids should be given a break for being kids; I thought they should be disciplined more. And we couldn't even argue on the same page—I liked to get things out in the open; she liked to do anything but that.

Years ago, we compared our Myers-Briggs personality scores. The literature that interpreted the results was fairly pessimistic about our future.

But surely after 30 years of marriage, things have gotten better, no? I recently took an online marital compatibility test to see whether time has made a difference. We scored a 60 percent. The test maker said, "If you're less than 70 percent compatible you may have to struggle hard to maintain a long-term relationship."

It appears that Barbara and I are simply not compatible. Some would say we have irreconcilable differences. But there's a mystery here: though we're as incompatible as ever these days, we find ourselves happier than ever, as well.

Mired in the self
Like nearly every couple in self-absorbed America, Barb and I originally thought marriage was about mutual self-fulfillment. We mouthed all the Christian platitudes about serving God and each other, but when we first got married, we predictably focused on how much fun it was to be together: companionship, sex, increased income, someone to listen, sex, another shoulder to cry on, someone to go on vacations with, sex, and so on. Early marriage for most couples is very much about mutual emotional masturbation.

As long as we have so much in common, the relationship can blissfully proceed. The problem is that only the rare marriage can be continually compatible.

People grow, mature, and change—or at least we all hope they do. Invariably the person we eye across the table at anniversary 10 will be different from the person we walked down the aisle with. And that different person will just as likely be less compatible.

Though compatibility is good and enjoyable as far as it goes, it never goes far enough to make a successful marriage. That's because it stays mired in the self.

Compatibility is ultimately about finding someone who is compatible with me. Compatibility is about my feeling good about being with someone else who shares my interests, blends with my personality traits, shares my values.

Biblical marriage is something altogether different, but at the core isn't much different from the rest of the Christian life: "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 2:3-5). Jesus, in fact, had little in common with the people on planet Earth. The chasm between Him and us is the difference between the infinite and the finite, holiness and sinfulness, God and man.

But He didn't count compatibility with God a thing to be grasped, Paul says. Instead He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, of those who were markedly incompatible with Him.

Lesson in martyrdom
After a few years of marriage, when couples stare into the abyss of their non-compatibility, they generally panic and try to create a new compatibility. My wife increasingly demanded that I listen with deep sincerity to all the little details of her life. I really tried. Couldn't do it.

For my part, I insisted that my wife go to a driving range with me, and I tried to teach her how to hit a golf ball. We ended that experiment in spouse abuse after lesson one.

The more we tried to find areas of compatibility, the more miserable we became. I remember sitting on the bed beside her after another failed sexual adventure (an activity at which we were no longer compatible, either, it seemed). I began to mull over all our differences: politics, kids, remodeling, attitudes toward in-laws, money issues, spirituality—the list was endless. On and on my mind raced. I was overcome with a profound sense of how utterly different we were, and how it was simply impossible for us to reconcile those differences.

But Barbara and I are compatible on one thing: divorce isn't an option. So we simply decided we were going to make this thing work in spite of the fact that we were so incompatible. We didn't decide it in a day, and we didn't decide it with gusto and optimism. We simply felt we had no choice but to learn how to live with a person so utterly alien to us.

And it was in that period that we began to learn about martyrdom, about the death of the self, about giving up the desire for compatibility. If marriage wasn't about how my spouse could make me happier, we each concluded, then it must be about each of us trying to make the other happier.

One morning on vacation on the beach, she asked if I wanted to go for a walk and look at the tide pools. This isn't my instinctive idea of a good time, but she wanted companionship while she did something that was interesting to her. So I went and entered into the experience as best I could. I didn't get nearly the enjoyment from it that she did, but I was happy she enjoyed it so much.

One evening on the same vacation, after a long and busy day, she suggested we go out to eat. She was exhausted, and the last thing she wanted to do was cook over a hot stove to prepare a meal for our family and the extended family with us. I, however, grimaced about the cost of going out. She responded by saying she'd go to the store and whip something together. While this wasn't something she wanted to do, she knew it would make me happy.

These are simple, ordinary acts of martyrdom, the giving way of self for the sake of the other. Every marriage has plenty of such moments. They can be resisted with complaints—"Why don't you ever do what I want to do?" and "Why don't you consider my feelings?" Or they can be submitted to with grace.

This forsaking of compatibility is slow and painful to learn. At the end of the day, Barb and I each feel a sense of regret at not having done more for the other. But every morning there's a new vow to give it another shot.

And here's the crazy thing: the more we stop trying to get each other to be compatible, the happier our marriage has been. Instead of our differences being insurmountable obstacles to happiness, they're simply facts that make our relationship interesting—aggravating at times, to be sure, but ultimately more fascinating.

And one more not unimportant thing: the more we've learned to love each other despite our differences, the more we've been able to love and serve those outside our marriage, most of whom are different from us in so many ways.

Certainly Barb and I share many things in common. But I doubt we share any more than we do with anyone on the planet. Two human beings are going to share some things in common, no matter how different they are.

But that's not what holds a marriage together. Irreconcilable differences are key—at least how we deal with them and learn to love in spite of them.

Mark Galli, managing editor of Christianity Today, is author of Francis of Assisi and His World (IVP).

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Irreconcilable Arguments?

Solving Conflicts without Arguing
by Gary D. Chapman

Conflicts are inevitable. Arguing is a choice.

Conflicts grow out of our uniqueness. The goal of conflict resolution is not to rid ourselves of our differences. The goal is to learn to work together as a team, using differences to make life better for both of us.

But for some couples, conflicts lead to arguments and arguments often get out of control. Instead of finding solutions, they create new problems. One wife told me, "I just do whatever he wants because I'm tired of arguing." Obviously, this approach won't lead to an authentic relationship.


The downside of arguments
What's so bad about arguments? When you win an argument, your spouse is the loser. And we all know it's no fun to live with a loser.

Arguments accomplish a great deal. Unfortunately, the accomplishments are destructive. Arguments are those carefully worded statements designed to appeal to the other person's sense of logic and reason. The implication is clear: any reasonable person would agree with my argument. When the spouse fails to agree, she now falls into the category of being illogical.

Arguments quickly become charged with emotion. You may end up yelling or screaming or crying; spouting out words that assassinate your mate's character; questioning his motives; and condemning his behavior as unloving, unkind, and undisciplined.

Arguments ultimately lead to one of three results. You win and your spouse loses; you lose and your spouse wins; or you argue to a draw. When arguments end in a draw, both spouses are losers. Neither one is convinced of the other's position, and both walk away disappointed, frustrated, hurt, angry, bitter, and often despairing of hope for their marriage.

The upside of conflict resolution
The good news is that conflicts can be resolved without arguing. Finding a winning solution begins by choosing to believe that such a solution is possible and that you and your spouse are smart enough to discover it. It requires you to respect each other's ideas even when you disagree, and to respond lovingly to your spouse in spite of the fact that you presently have a conflict. The objective is to find a solution, not to win an argument.

Conflicts cannot be resolved without empathetic listening. Unfortunately, most couples believe they are listening to each other when, in fact, they're simply reloading their verbal guns.

Empathetic listening means seeking to understand what the other person is thinking and feeling. It's putting ourselves in the other person's shoes and trying to look at the world through his or her eyes. It means we lay aside our verbal guns in favor of truly understanding the other person's viewpoint. Instead of focusing on how we're going to respond to what the other person's saying, we focus entirely on hearing what the other person is saying. We can't have a loving response until we first understand the meaning and feeling behind their words.

Empathetic listening may require you to ask questions to make sure you're hearing correctly what your spouse is saying. A husband might ask, "Are you saying you want me consistently to take out the trash without your asking?" to which she responds, "Yes. When I have to ask, I feel as if I'm being your mother. And I'd like you to take it out after supper and not leave it until the next morning so the kitchen doesn't smell." Now that he understands her, he can affirm her desires by saying, "I hear what you're saying and it makes sense. I think I can do that. The only problem I see will be Wednesday nights when I have to leave quickly in order to go to a meeting. Would it be possible for you to take out the trash that night?" Chances are she'll agree and the new "garbage removal program" brings harmony to their relationship.

When you affirm your spouse's perspective, then you can share yours and together you can negotiate a solution that will respect both of your ideas and feelings.

The most common mistake
The most common mistake couples make while trying to resolve conflicts is to respond before they have the full picture. This inevitably leads to arguments. When people respond too quickly, they often respond to the wrong issue. Listening helps us focus on the heart of the conflict. When we listen, understand, and respect each other's ideas, we can then find a solution in which both of us are winners. When a husband and wife lovingly seek solutions to conflicts, they find the harmony and teamwork they're ultimately trying to build.

Copyright © 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Marriage Partnership magazine. Click here for reprint information on Marriage Partnership.
Summer 2007, Vol. 24, No. 2, Page 17

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Why I Love Liz

Elizabeth Curtis Higgs. Liz, she'd say. Her path crossed mine through her wonderful writings at Christianity Today about ten months ago. At that times I wondered why they set one special section about her namely "A Life with Liz". Going through her writings proved to be one of the things I really needed at that time. As I went through each article day by day, I received some consolations that helped to keep me going. She brought smiles and laughters, amazed me with how deep she actually is despite always portraying herself as humorous and funny. I sent her a note and guess what I received a couple of weeks after that? Her card. With her own writing and signature. Funny, the card carried my name. It is the title of her latest book. It was the Lord who crossed our path together.


When I first read her writing, I envied her. A lot. For her life that seems so joyful and all. A truly gifted writer, married to her wonderful Bill, a mother of two great children with her clear calling as a speaker of God's love. But later as the more I read her articles, they revealed of her dark past. Now, this is a person who truly understands the meaning of God's grace... I see grace as her theme everywhere in her writings. As she was redeemed from her eternal death she has been setting her heart on the mission her Lord Jesus Christ entrusted to her. An encourager. Funny, because that is what I have always been hoping to be in this life and here is the true example for me. Thank you dear Lord...

She loves everything about Scotland and Celtic. I couldn't believe my luck! Here is someone who writes some famous books that portray beautiful Scotland as her background. Even her non-fiction ones are about characters from the Bible, such Leah, Rachel and Jacob had setting in the wild land of Scotland. I never knew someone so in love with Celtic like her. That makes me love her even more because she must understand my considered funny choice by many people (men in skirt?! Get real, girl...)!

Liz' ministry is to women. Dear Lord, this is scary. Uhm... I mean, "WOW!" How are You going to surprise me more, Lord? Liz writings are always about women. Her focus is on the lives of women. Her mission is to bring the Lord's light to the lost women. Something I have always been interested in and doing it although I just realized it quite recently. For certain reasons I have no interest in ministering to men, unless it relates to the women in their lives or unless it is about my men. Liz has many great ways in showing me to how follow her step and share her unbelievable experiences dealing with women from many different backgrounds.

Liz loves Indonesia. She wanted to be a missionary for Indonesian people when she was saved at the age of 27. Dear Lord, don't You think I'd better stop it here before it gets more weird? Great. Thank you, Lord.

Hope to see you one day, my big (and 'big') sister in Christ, until then God be with you always!

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The Trial of Your Faith

By Charles Spurgeon

“In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishing, even though tested b y fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ;…”
1 Peter 1:6-7 NASB

Faith untried may be true faith, but it is sure to be little faith, and it is likely to remain dwarfish so long as it is without trials. Faith never prospers so well as when all things are against her: tempests are her trainers, and lightnings are her illuminators. When a calm reigns on the sea, spread the sails as you will, the ship moves not to its harbour; for on a slumbering ocean the keel sleeps too.


Let the winds rush howling forth, and let the waters lift up themselves, then, though the vessel may rock, and her deck may be washed with waves, and her mast may creak under the pressure of the full and swelling sail, it is then that she makes headway towards her desired haven. No flowers wear so lovely a blue as those which grow at the foot of the frozen glacier; no stars gleam so brightly as those which glisten in the polar sky; no water tastes so sweet as that which springs amid the desert sand; and no faith is so precious as that which lives and triumphs in adversity.

Tried faith brings experience. You could not have believed your own weakness had you not been compelled to pass through the rivers; and you would never have known God's strength had you not been supported amid the water-floods. Faith increases in solidity, assurance, and intensity, the more it is exercised with tribulation. Faith is precious, and its trial is precious too.

Let not this, however, discourage those who are young in faith. You will have trials enough without seeking them: the full portion will be measured out to you in due season. Meanwhile, if you cannot yet claim the result of long experience, thank God for what grace you have; praise Him for that degree of holy confidence whereunto you have attained: walk according to that rule, and you shall yet have more and more of the blessing of God, till your faith shall remove mountains and conquer impossibilities


Received in 16 February 2004 from a dear sister in Christ who had helped me going through the beginning of my rough journey in Christ. She is no longer with me now, nobody but Christ Himself taking my hands, guiding me through the even rougher journey. Thank you Lord that through the stony and cruel ground, surrounded by the howling winds, I can still see the steps of Your saints that have gone before me.

I will certainly be home one day...!

"They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were tempted, they were put to death with the sword; they went about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, ill-treated (men of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in deserts and mountains and caves and holes in the ground."
Hebrews 11:37-38 NASB

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Rigo's Story

A little story from my old archive, something worth-reading and worth-keeping to me... Hope you enjoy the story as much as I do and get to learn more on loving others... Blessings!

And He said to him, "'YOU SHALL LOVE THE LORD YOUR GOD WITH ALL YOUR HEART, AND WITH ALL YOUR SOUL, AND WITH ALL YOUR MIND.' This is the great and foremost commandment. The second is like it, 'YOU SHALL LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF.' On these two commandments depend the whole Lay and the Prophets."
Matthew 23:37-40

"Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men,..."
Colossians 3:23 NASB

What a poor, immigrant child taught me about Christ's love.
By Julianne Bahlinger


The plight of the schoolteacher is at times overwhelming. In many classrooms a teacher is assigned children on multiple levels of achievement. Because of this, a class size of 22 means any lesson you teach is akin to a three-ring circus. A decade ago, in addition to my regular fourth-grade teaching duties, I had an additional assignment as the gifted and talented specialist, which meant my students were all over the map skill-wise. I was stretched to the limit.

Into this stressful picture came Rigo, a new student who joined my class well into the school year. He was the youngest son of a Mexican immigrant. Rigo lived most of his 12 years in rural Mexico. In the village where he lived there was no running water. His father, who spoke in broken English, told me in the way of an apology that Rigo's small stature was due to the scarcity of food in their village.

Rigo entered my classroom at 12 with no understanding of basic skills because he had been to this point unschooled. In the United States, even our "children of poverty" at fourth-grade level understood basic shapes and had some word recognition. For all practical purposes, Rigo could have moved here from Mars. It was never clear how he had acquired a very small amount of broken English, perhaps from his father.

I was so angry at this placement. How could anyone expect this of me? I had gone to great lengths to become a "gifted specialist." I had no clue what to do with a child like Rigo while meeting my obligations to my other students. For two days I complained wholeheartedly to my colleagues, who agreed with me. During that time I grudgingly gathered coloring sheets, found an old workbook, and did a poor job of keeping Rigo busy.

On the third day, while I was walking back from the lunchroom with my students, the school discipline officer called to me from across the hall, "Your Rigo is in the office. He was throwing rocks at recess." I shrugged it off and went back to my room with 21 children in tow.

A short time into my math lesson, Rigo returned. He stood in the doorway and I looked up. His eyes were welled up with tears. He said only, "Mexico okay." I knew that he was trying to tell me that rocks were toys in his village in Mexico. It was then that I saw a light shining through Rigo's tears. It was born of the pain of being ragged and poor and the shame of being in a world where you didn't seem to have the same instructions as everyone else.

I looked around the room and then back at Rigo. I was indicted and convicted in that one moment.

Christ's words echoed in my ears. "When you do it for the least of My brethren, you do it for Me." I went to Rigo in great humility and touched his shoulder. His face, I now realized, was the face of Christ for me in that moment. I took him into the hallway and we sat on the floor. He put his head on my shoulder as I embraced this small child. His pain burst forth like water through a dam, and he cried heavy tears onto my shirt.

I cried, too.

I was weeping for all the Rigos in the world. But I was mostly weeping for myself and all the Christians to whom Christ comes in a small frame like Rigo's and we hand them our leftover coloring pages, outdated workbooks, and discarded clothes, brushing them aside like an inconvenience.

I took Rigo's face into my hands and promised we would find a way to make his days full and meaningful. And, indeed, God opened doors for the two of us. His time in my class filled up quickly with mentors and Legos and children reading books to him. I first heard him laugh at the computer with another child learning the names of shapes. My heart leapt.

He was with me only three weeks. His family moved, chasing the elusive dream of survival. He left me with a lesson I hope I never forget. This is not the story of a teacher who did something wonderful for a child, but of a child who did something remarkable for a teacher.

Rigo vanished like an angel here for a brief visit. His tiny frame and fragile eyes will always remind me of another child, a small infant born helpless in a stable. The words of that infant repeat in my ears with new and glorious implication: "Love one another."

Julianne Bahlinger lives in Fredericksburg, Texas.
Copyright © 2006 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian magazine

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What Language Do You Use?

Dalam satu lecture yang saya ikuti dalam beberapa minggu terakhir ini, salah satunya bertema “ Thinking in Pictures: Autism and Visual Thought” yang diadakan Pdt. Joshua Lie (Reformational Worldview Foundation), ada beberapa hal menarik yang saya pelajari. Bukan tentang penderita Autism, meskipun itu juga menarik. Bayangkan saja sekarang ini diperkirakan bahwa satu dari sepuluh orang mengalami autism. Suatu jumlah yang tidak bisa diabaikan bukan?

Tapi yang saya bagikan ini bersumber dari satu pertanyaan tentang kecenderungan keharusan penguasaan bahasa yang lebih dari satu bagi banyak anak-anak di masa sekarang ini. Singkat saja. Ada dua point menarik yang Pak Lie sampaikan dari pertanyaan itu.


Mother Tounge
Pak Lie menjelaskan bahwa sangat penting bagi seorang anak yang belajar berbagai bahasa untuk mulai dari satu bahasa dasar yang akan menjadi akar bagi bahasa-bahasa lain yang diharapkan untuk dikuasainya. Tanpa adanya bahasa dasar (mother tounge) ini, seorang anak akan mengalami kesulitan dalam berkomunikasi yang akhirnya bisa berdampak lebih jauh bagi perkembangan dirinya karena tidak dilatih menyampaikan pikiran dan perasaannya dengan baik.

Di masa sekarang ini tidak sedikit anak-anak yang sejak dini dilatih agar bisa paling tidak bilingual. Saya pun termasuk kategori ini, meskipun tidak dengan dipaksa oleh orangtua saya. Kebetulan saya sangat suka membaca dan lewat bacaan-bacaan inilah saya dilatih ber-bilingual. Saya juga mengamini penjelasan Pak Lie di atas karena saya menyadari salah satu faktor penolong saya belajar that second language adalah karena mother tounge saya cukup memadai, baik bahasa tulis maupun verbal.

Tapi satu hal yang membuat saya agak prihatin adalah betapa sedikitnya orangtua yang peduli akan bahasa dari Alkitab bagi anak-anaknya. Bahasa cinta Tuhan bagi kita semua. Kalaupun peduli, seringkali hanya sejauh membawa anak-anak mereka ke Sekolah Minggu dan menyerahkannya kepada guru-guru disana ataupun lewat persekutuan-persekutuan yang ada. Padahal itulah mother tounge yang paling dasar bagi setiap anak darimanapun dia berasal. Ah… mungkin ini hanya penyampaian pikiran yang basi. Sudah terlalu banyak pastinya hal-hal ini disampaikan dari dulu.

Understand the Language Philosophy
Point kedua yang ingin saya ingat selalu adalah Pak Lie mengingatkan bahwa setiap bahasa memiliki filosofinya sendiri-sendiri. Menggunakan satu bahasa berarti mengadopsi filosofi yang terkandung di dalamnya. Sehingga akan menjadi satu peringatan bagi para orangtua yang berambisi agar anak-anaknya menguasai lebih dari satu bahasa tanpa mereka sendiri memahami filosofi yang ada pada bahasa-bahasa itu.

Akibatnya adalah, meskipun berbicara dalam bahasa yang sama, tetapi dengan pemikiran yang tidak sama karena perbedaan filosofi yang dianut. Contoh sederhana mungkin adalah second generation dari kaum imigran. Dimana para anak mereka sudah begitu beradaptasi dengan filosofi yang dianutnya dari mother tounge mereka, sementara para orangtuanya masih lekat dengan filosofi mother tounge mereka yang jelas berbeda dengan si anak. Jika para orangtua ini tidak memahami filosofi yang terkandung dalam mother tounge anaknya, maka akibatnya adalah meskipun mereka bisa berkomunikasi dengan anak-anak mereka menggunakan mother tounge anak-anak mereka, tetapi pembicaraan mereka tidak akan bersambung.

Bicara tentang hal ini saya terpikir bahwa kitapun bisa “tidak nyambung” dengan Tuhan. Ada satu artikel dari John Piper berjudul “How To Query God”, disana disampaikan oleh John Piper bahwa jangan berpikir bahwa kita bisa seenaknya bertanya pada Tuhan. Senang sekali bahwa contoh yang digunakan John Piper adalah nabi Zacharias, karena sudah beberapa lama saya sering bertanya mengapa dia langsung dibuat bisu akibat pertanyaannya pada Tuhan yang disampaikan lewat malaikat Gabriel.

Saya terpikir bahwa “filosofi bahasa” yang kita gunakan pada Tuhan seringkali tidak tepat seperti yang disampaikan John Piper. Kita bisa bicara tentang satu ayat yang sama dalam Alkitab dengan hasil yang berbeda. Ada orang-orang yang tahu begitu banyak tentang Alkitab, tapi apa yang mereka kerjakan ternyata tidak bersambung dengan Tuhan sehingga dikatakanlah oleh Tuhan, “May will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?’ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; DEPART FROM ME, YOU WHO PRACTICE LAWLESSNESS.’” Matthew 7:22-23 NASB.

Banyak orang yang ingin mengerti kebenaran firman Tuhan, tetapi tanpa perkenanNya, yang dimengerti bukannya akan memimpin pada kebenaran, tetapi semakin menyesatkan. Banyak orang ingin mengerti kebenaran semata-mata demi pengetahuan itu sendiri tanpa merindukan Sang Kebenaran yang sejati.

May the LORD grant us the humble and sincere heart in understanding His words. What language do you use today to speak to the LORD? May it be His…

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Kartumu Jelek?

Dalam buku “Leading with Billy Graham” yang tengah saya baca, ada satu kisah menarik dari Presiden AS Dwight Eisenhower tentang kartu yang jelek. Diceritakan bahwa pada suatu malam Presiden Eisenhower sedang bermain kartu (Flinch nama permainannya) dengan ibu dan saudara-saudara laki-lakinya. Ibunya saat itu menjadi pembagi kartu dan membagikan kepada Presiden Eisenhower kartu yang jelek, sehingga menuai keluhan dari Eisenhower muda yang merasa dewi keberuntungan tengah bersembunyi darinya lewat tangan sang bunda.

Mendengar keluhan si anak, ibu yang bijaksana ini berkata, “Anak-anak laki-lakiku, taruh semua kartu-kartu kalian. Saya ingin berkata sesuatu, terutama kepadamu, Dwight. Kamu berada di dalam sebuah permainan di dalam rumahmu bersama dengan ibu dan saudara-saudara laki-lakimu yang mengasihimu. Tetapi di luar sana, di dalam dunia, kamu akan bermain dengan kartu yang jelek tanpa ada orang yang mengasihimu. Inilah nasehat bagimu anak-anakku, ambillah kartu-kartu yang jelek itu tanpa mengeluh dan mainkanlah. Mintalah Allah untuk menolongmu dan kamu akan memenangkan sebuah permainan yang penting, disebut kehidupan.”


Kisah itu telah mendistorsi perhatian saya dari topik utama buku yang tengah saya baca itu, karena sebagai seorang penjudi…eee… maksud saya berjudi dengan kehidupan… eee… salah lagi! Maksud saya, sebagai anak-anak Tuhan yang hidup dalam dunia yang sudah jatuh dalam dosa, mendapatkan “kartu yang jelek” untuk dimainkan dalam kehidupan kita masing-masing adalah suatu hal yang sangat wajar. Kristus sendiri pernah berkata, “…for He causes His sun to rise on the evil dan and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous” (Matthew 5:45 NASB). Tidak ada yang diluputkan dari mendapat “kartu-kartu yang jelek” untuk dimainkan dalam hidup ini, anak Tuhan ataupun bukan. Tapi penting bagaimana kita memahami dan menangani “kartu-kartu jelek” ini…

Accept and Acknowledge
Saat berhadapan dengan penderitaan dan rekan-rekannya yang biasanya datang bersamaan dengan akurnya seperti rasa sakit yang mematikan, kesulitan-kesulitan hidup, kehilangan sesuatu atau orang-orang terkasih dan lain-lain, reaksi yang paling umum dari kita adalah menolak adanya kenyataan tersebut, dengan berbagai macam cara. Bersikap seolah-olah “kartu-kartu jelek” tersebut tidak pernah ada.

Tetapi sayangnya, menolak kenyataan sama dengan memperpanjang penderitaan itu sendiri. Karena keberadaan “kartu-kartu jelek” itu riil, mereka hanya bisa dihadapi dengan sesuatu yang riil pula. Bermain kartu di dalam mimpi tentu sama sekali bukan berarti tengah bermain kartu. Hanya dengan bangun dari mimpi itu dan berhadapan langsung dengan “kartu-kartu jelek” tersebut kita akan kembali memainkan mereka.

So, accept and acknowledge them! Terima kenyataan bahwa hidupmu sedang penuh dengan airmata duka. Terima kenyataan bahwa rasa sakit itu sungguh melumpuhkan. Terima kenyataan bahwa badai permasalahan tengah melandamu tanpa ampun. Dan yang terutama, terimalah kenyataan bahwa yang tengah kau alami adalah memang sesuatu yang jelek. Rasakan pahitnya. Sengatnya yang sangat tajam.

Saya tidak setuju dengan orang-orang yang berusaha “melembutkan” buruknya kenyataan hidup yang harus dialami seseorang selain tentu juga saja dengan orang-orang yang melebih-lebihkan buruknya kenyataan yang harus dihadapi dalam hidup ini. Sayangnya banyak metode pemulihan di dunia ini yang mengabaikan buruknya tragedi-tragedi kehidupan manusia. Dan banyak dari kita sudah salah kaprah memandang penderitaan yang kita alami. Saya pernah berdiskusi tentang keluarga yang dititipkan Tuhan anak-anak yang sering kita sebut kurang sempurna. Mengalami cacat tubuh misalnya, gangguan kesehatan serius ataupun keterbelakangan mental. Beberapa rekan berkata bahwa yang dialami itu harus diterima dengan penuh sukacita karena itu adalah hadiah terindah yang Tuhan beri.

Saya mengalami sedikit kesulitan menerima kata-kata tersebut. Ketidaksempurnaan si anak bagaimanapun juga adalah sesuatu yang buruk. Jelek. Menyakitkan. Mendukakan. Dan sangat wajar diterima dengan airmata. Tetapi yang indah dari semua itu adalah bahwa apapun yang terjadi tidak pernah bisa menghancurkan jiwa yang menghadapinya. Dari situlah sukacita kita bermula, bukan bersukacita dengan mengabaikan buruknya realita yang harus dihadapi.

Bahkan anak-anak Tuhan sendiripun (termasuk saya tentu) seringkali hanya mengartikan dosa-dosa kita sebagai suatu kesalahan-kesalahan yang kita lakukan di dalam hidup. Kita seringkali tidak menyadari bahwa apa yang kita sebut kesalahan-kesalahan itu sudah membuat Kristus harus mati di kayu salib untuk menanggungnya. Kita lupa bahwa kitalah yang seharusnya mati di kayu salib itu. Kita tidak gentar dengan kematian karena tidak mengerti betapa mengerikannya jalan yang sudah Kristus tempuh buat kita. Tidak heran banyak orang justru beranggapan bahwa mati adalah jalan terbaik bagi kesulitan hidup ini.

Mengabaikan realita ini akan melatih kita semakin tidak menghargai apa yang sudah Kristus lakukan buat kita. Penderitaan luar biasa yang dihadapiNya demi kita. Dia mati untuk menghidupkan kita dari kematian kekal, seperti Sleeping Beauty yang dibangunkan dari mimpi kekalnya. Kenapa kini kita mau tertidur lagi menghadapi “kartu-kartu jelek” kita? Accept and acknowledge.

By His Very Own Permission
Kadangkala kita memandang apakah kartu-kartu kita jelek atau tidak juga dipengaruhi siapa yang membaginya. Kalau kita tahu bahwa si pembagi sama sekali tidak berkuasa menentukan kartu yang mana bagi siapa, kita cenderung lebih kurang sakit hati menerima kartu-kartu jelek tersebut. Tetapi jika kita mengetahui bahwa si pembagi kartu mampu mengatur agar kita tidak menerima kartu-kartu jelek itu, kita akan jauh lebih sakit hati menerima kartu-kartu jelek kita. Kita akan bilang, musuh dalam selimut lebih mematikan daripada Enemy at The Gate = D...

Saya coba membayangkan perasaan nabi Habakkuk saat Tuhan berkata, “Look among the nations! Observe! Be astonished! Wonder! Because I am doing something in your days, you would not believe it you were told. For behold, I am raising up the Chaldeans, that fierce and impetuous people who march throughout the earth to seize the dwelling places which are not theirs.” Habakkuk 1:5-6 NASB, oh LORD God, nothing but unspoken desperation, would it? Betapa gentar, hancur, remuk dan kecewanya perasaan nabi Habakkuk melihat apa yang akan dilakukan Tuhan. Membiarkan satu bangsa yang begitu kejam menghancurkan umatNya sendiri.

Tapi satu fakta yang tidak bisa terhindarkan adalah bahwa “kartu-kartu jelek” dalam kehidupan kita hanya mungkin tiba pada kita dengan seijin sang Pembagi yang Agung itu sendiri. Tanpa ijinNya tak ada secuil pun penderitaan yang sanggup menyentuh kita. Ini akan membawa kita pada pertanyaan berikutnya, “Kalau realita penderitaan begitu mematikan, mengapa Ia yang sanggup menghalau hingga tuntas mengijinkan penderitaan tiba pada kehidupan anak-anak yang dikasihiNya begitu dalam sampai mengorbankan yang paling dikasihiNya sendiri di kayu salib?”, dan banyak orang-orang paling bijaksana pun akan terdiam menghadapi pertanyaan ini.

Mengapa? Karena tidak memahami realita dosa. Tidak memahami bahwa Tuhan Allah yang penuh kasih adalah juga yang penuh keadilan. Tidak dibiarkanNya satu dosa pun lolos tanpa penghakiman yang adil. Tapi masalahnya disini tidak ada seorang manusiapun yang akan sanggup memahami hal ini tanpa Tuhan sendiri membukakannya. Sudah dibukakanpun tetap banyak yang tidak kita mengerti. Bahkan hingga kita tiba di surga nanti, tetap akan ada banyak hal yang tidak kita mengerti seperti Tuhan. Yang diciptakan bukanlah Sang Pencipta itu sendiri.

Oleh karena itu dalam menghadapi realita “kartu-kartu jelek” yang diijinkanNya sampai dalam genggaman kita, terimalah kenyataan bahwa dengan segala keterbatasan yang kita miliki sebagai ciptaanNya, satu hal yang tetap bisa kita pegang, bahwa Tuhan Allah bukanlah pencipta baik dosa maupun penderitaan. KekudusanNya justru tidak mengijinkan dan membiarkan adanya dosa. Dia tidak bersukacita atas penderitaan kita, justru memilih mati untuk menanggung semua itu untuk kita. Agar mengembalikan kita ke dalam posisi sebagaimana kita diciptakan, anak-anakNya yang kudus seperti Dia.

Sehingga yang diperbuatNya bukanlah mengakibatkan penderitaan lahir, menjadi sumber dari penderitaan kita. Melainkan justru menggunakan penderitaan itu untuk membawa kita kembali kepadaNya. Disitulah kuasa dosa dan maut dikalahkan dengan telak oleh kasihNya, karena Ia mampu membawa kita menang bukan karena kartu-kartu kita bagus, tetapi bahkan lewat kartu-kartu yang terjelekpun Ia sanggup memampukan kita untuk menang. Disitulah luar biasanya Tuhan!

“But in all these things, we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us.”
Romans 8:37 NASB

Terjemahan lain (NIV, LAI) mengatakan bahwa kita “more than conqueror” dalam pertempuran kita dengan penderitaan dan dosa. Saya sering bertanya seperti apakah kiranya menjadi lebih daripada pemenang (atau harafiahnya penakluk), bukankah pemenang itu adalah segala-galanya? Saya kemudian teringat bahwa pemenang ada yang bisa menang karena memang kemampuan dirinya yang sangat memadai sehingga memang pantas untuk memenangkan suatu pertempuran. Tetapi kita sebetulnya bukan menang karena kita pantas, karena kita mampu, karena kita bisa. Tapi karena kita dimampukan, dibuat pantas, kita dijadikan pemenang, lewat Dia yang mengasihi kita. Itulah pemenang yang lebih daripada pemenang.

Satu hal terindah yang saya rasakan Tuhan perbuat melalui kesulitan-kesulitan yang saya alami adalah dengan begitu murah hatinya Tuhan mengijinkan saya mengalami kemenangan dari semua itu, merasakan menjadi seorang yang menang. Bahkan dengan cara yang luar biasa. Overwhelmingly! Hingga saya pun tercengang saat melewati semua itu. Bagaimana mungkin saya bisa melalui masa-masa itu? Satu jawabannya.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn you. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Saviour; I have given Egypt as your ransom, Cush and Seba in your place. Since youa re precious in My sight, since you are honored and I love you, I will give other men in exchange for your life. Do not fear, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and gather you from the west.”
Isaiah 43:2-5 NASB

Because He is with us, all the way.

Come What May!
Kalau kita tahu bahwa kartu yang kita miliki dalam permainan jelek, kalau kita tahu bahwa Allah mampu bekerja membawa kebaikan lewat kartu yang jelek itu, maka kita pasti tahu bahwa saat kebaikan itu tiba, kejelekan kartu itu sudah tidak lagi menjadi masalah. Bukan soal kartu yang kita miliki itu jelek atau baik, melainkan dengan kartu yang jelek itu kita dimampukan memperoleh kartu-kartu yang baik.

Ingat Joseph yang kartu-kartunya begitu jelek. Tuhan tidak menggantinya. Saya coba bayangkan apa “tumit Achilles” Joseph, apa yang membuat dia jadi putus asa. Terus-menerus jadi orang yang dipersalahkan untuk kebenaran yang dia nyatakan? Apakah rasa sakit karena seolah dipermainkan Tuhan dengan permainan “give and take away” yang berulang-ulang? Apakah karena tunnel gelap yang dilalui tak juga berakhir meskipun sudah begitu banyak pelajaran berharga yang dia dapatkan? Tetapi Alkitab tidak pernah mencatat itu. Karena itu tidak penting. Tidak sepenting daripada menyatakan apa yang lahir dari jalan buntu di hidup Joseph, apa yang mampu Allah lakukan lewat kartu-kartu jeleknya. Dan saya percaya waktu Joseph menoleh ke hari-hari sebelumnya dimana dia mungkin pernah berseru apa yang Tuhan mau kerjakan lewat kartu-kartu jeleknya, ia akan dimampukan untuk melihat bahwa bahkan pada saat ia tengah berteriak itu, Tuhan justru tengah membawa dia menjadi pemenang dalam pertempuran hidupnya.

Apa yang terlihat di awal tunnel gelap tempatmu kini berada tidak bisa kau jadikan patokan atau ukuran akan keadaan di ujung tunnel sana. Satu hal yang pasti, tunnel itu punya satu ujung lain selain dari ujung tempat perjalananmu berawal. Di dalam kegelapanlah engkau justru dilatih menjadi lebih kuat, lewat berbagai keterbatasan yang kegelapan hadirkan. Waktu dulu di kelompok pecinta alam, ada satu perlombaan tahunan mendaki gunung Gede yang kami coba ikuti. Ada satu kelompok yang tampil luar biasa. Mereka bukan mendaki saat perlombaan dimulai, mereka berlari hingga puncak tercapai. Tahu apa yang mereka lakukan saat berlatih? Mereka latihan berlari di pasir dengan kedua belah kaki dibebani. Mereka menang karena latihan Spartan itu. Seperti itulah kegelapan melatihmu dan memampukanmu menjadi lebih dari seorang pemenang.

Di ujung tunnel nanti kau mungkin akan berhadapan dengan gelap yang sama. Kitab Kejadian mencatat, “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease (Genesis 8:22 NASB)”. Pagi dan malam saling bergantian selama dunia ini masih ada. Tapi tidak ada tahu kapan harimu akan menjadi terang setelah gelap begitu lama.

Tapi ini yang akan kau mengerti. Tidaklah penting pagi dan terang itu selama Dia selalu dekatmu. Semua yang hadir dalam hidupmu hanyalah untuk semakin membawamu kembali kepadaNya. Menjadi serupa denganNya. Dalam topangan kasihNya tidak ada apapun yang sanggup menggoncangkan hidupmu hingga hancur. Justru itu semua akan semakin membuatmu kuat dan berlari terus hingga pertandinganmu selesai.

Kartumu jelekkah kini? Wait for the Lord. Be rest assured. For He will bring them for a glorious end…!

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HUSH

I ran across this article today, one that I keep in my archive, one that remains one of my most favourite ones. It marked the time when my more “exciting” journey with the Lord began about four years ago, October 2003. The journey has been getting even more exciting nowadays, with a lot of roller coaster riding here and there. But I will keep pressing on knowing that “He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6 NASB

To God be all the glory, to the God who is good, who is so good to me…


This Week's Theme: Life in Perspective
Thursday, January 4

Key Bible Verse: When calamity comes, the wicked are brought down, but even in death the righteous have a refuge (Proverbs 14:32).
Bonus Reading: Philippians 1:20-24

My father was a victim of the deadly flu epidemic of 1917. Years later, my mother described his death: 'I was sitting beside the bed. Somehow I knew this was the end, and for the first time I cried in front of you children. God was taking my Charlie after giving us so short a time together. He was leaving me a widow with four children. What was I to do? Then [Charlie] looked at me. He recognized me, and I saw all the tenderness again in his eyes. He sat up and put his arms around me. For a moment I thought he was going to get well. Then he said, "Laura, Laura, don't cry. Hush, God is in it." Then he was gone.'

Papa's dying words made no sense to me, his five-year-old son. God's unpredictability was anything but delightful to me. But now, those words bring enormous comfort to that same boy, over 75 years later. And they helped sustain my mother during 50 lonely years of widowhood. Just before my mother died, her heart failed and she was unable to speak. Yet somehow, she mustered her last bit of strength and gasped one word: "Hush."

—Lawrence Crabb, Sr., in God of My Father

Respond:
Think of a time when life was not only hard, but almost impossible to comprehend? Where did you turn?

Thought to Apply:
Death is not death if it raises us in a moment from darkness into light, from weakness into strength, from sinfulness into holiness.

Charles Kingsley (English pastor and novelist, 19th century)

Adapted from God of My Father (Zondervan, 1994).

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Stumbling Spouse?

“…if you were to divorce your spouse, interview 200 "replacement" candidates, put them through a battery of psychological tests, have follow-up interviews conducted by your closest friends, spend three years dating the most compatible ones, and then another 40 days praying and fasting about which one to choose, you'd still end up with a spouse who disappoints you, hurts you, frustrates you, and stumbles in many ways.”

So what to do with an imperfect spouse?


(An article I would like to share with my close friend who is celebrating her 9th anniversary today. Have a meaningful celebration, dear! Luckily the date is correct this year, hahaha!)

Marriage and the Blockbuster
How does marriage fare in the top-grossing movies of all time?

1. Titanic. The whole point of the story is escaping from a fiancé.
2. Star Wars. No married main characters except Luke's uncle and aunt who get toasted early on.
3. Star Wars: Episode 1—The Phantom Menace. Ditto. Single princess, single Jedis, single senator. Who has time for marriage?
4. ET. Single mom raises kids and alien.
5. Jurassic Park. Single head paleontologist loves dinosaurs; ambivalent about kids and marriage.
6. Forrest Gump. A very long court ship, marriage at long last; wife dies.
7. Lion King. Good parental marriage, though husband dies; promising courtship for next generation.
8. Return of the Jedi. Han and Leah declare love but not engagement—troubling family revelations add complications.
9. Independence Day. Good presidential marriage, though First Lady dies.
10. Sixth Sense. Dead psychologist thinks he's still married.
11. Empire Strikes Back. Would you marry Yoda?
    

Moral of the movies: If you have a good marriage, one of you will die by the end of the movie. If you want an exciting, adventuresome, dramatic life, stay single. But if you want someone to accompany you to the cineplex, get married. —MGM

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Lectio Divina (re-posted)

Artikel ini saya dapatkan langsung dari Ev. Jeffrey Siauw. Sebelumnya artikel ini posted di blog-nya. Lantaran menghemat kapasitas, maka kemudian dihapuskan. Untuk itulah saya berpikir untuk mem-post-kannya di sini karena mungkin akan bisa menjadi masukan untuk orang lain. OK, happy reading everyone and if you have further comments/questions bisa langsung bertanya lewat link di atas!


Grace, ini artikelnya :)

Lectio Divina (22 Nov 2006)

Tulisan ini saya cuplik dari buku Kenneth Boa, Conformed to His Image, 93.

Seni kuno Lectio Divina atau sacred (sakral/suci) reading diperkenalkan kepada dunia Barat oleh desert father dari Timur, John Cassian, pada awal abad ke-5. Seni ini dipraktekkan oleh para biarawan Cistercian dan saat ini ditemukan kembali oleh sebagian besar komunitas Kristen. Pendekatan yang sangat baik ini mengkombinasikan disiplin belajar, berdoa dan meditasi menjadi suatu metode yang sangat powerful, yang jikalau dijalankan dengan konsisten, dapat merubah hidup rohani seseorang. Sacred reading ini terdiri dari 4 elemen:

1. Lectio (membaca). Pilihlah teks yang sangat singkat dan telan itu dengan membacanya beberapa kali. Saya biasanya memilih sebuah ayat atau bagian yang pendek dari dari Perjanjian Lama atau Perjanjian Baru, dari pasal yang saya baca dalam pembacaan Alkitab saya di pagi hari.
2. Meditatio (meditasi). Ambil beberapa menit untuk merefleksikan kata-kata dan frase-frase dalam teks yang telah anda baca. Renungkan bagian itu dengan menanyakan pertanyaan-pertanyaan dan menggunakan imajinasi anda.
3. Oratio (doa). Setelah menginternalisasikan bagian ini, serahkan kembali ke Tuhan dalam bentuk doa yang dipersonalisasikan (JS: ayat itu diadaptasi menjadi doa pribadi, minta supaya ayat itu terjadi dalam hidup kita)
4. Contemplatio (kontemplasi). Bagi sebagian besar kita, ini akan menjadi bagian yang paling sulit, karena bagian ini terdiri dari berdiam diri dan penyerahan diri di hadapan Allah. Kontemplasi adalah buah dari dialog ketiga elemen yang pertama; persekutuan yang lahir dari penerimaan kita akan kebenaran ilahi dalam pikiran dan hati kita.
   

Pendekatan orang-orang zaman modern di dalam membaca Alkitab adalah “baca, mengerti, and that’s good”. Penekanannya adalah di “mengerti”. Tetapi kita tahu that’s not good enough. Sebagian lagi menekankan “baca, hafalkan, mengerti atau tidak mengerti, karena akan berguna suatu hari”. Penekanannya adalah di “hafal”. Tetapi kita juga tahu that’s not good enough.

Sebenarnya kita sering membicarakan tentang ‘merenungkan Firman’, tetapi di zaman modern ‘merenungkan Firman’ sering dibaca menjadi ‘mengerti atau menghafal Firman’. Ada sesuatu yang hilang di situ. Merenungkan tidak boleh berarti lain selain sungguh-sungguh merenungkan.

Di zaman post-modern ini, banyak teolog menggali lagi keindahan spiritualitas tokoh-tokoh iman zaman kuno. Lectio Divina adalah salah satu pendekatan yang ditemukan kembali. Kita bukan saja membaca, menghafal, mengerti, tetapi juga minta dengan sungguh-sungguh kepada Tuhan supaya Firman itu hidup dalam hidup kita, dan mencoba supaya Firman itu menembus masuk dalam hati kita yang paling dalam.

Untuk bagian kontemplasi, saya setuju ini menjadi bagian yang sulit karena kita adalah ‘orang-orang yang terlalu sibuk’ dan ‘panik’, padahal kontemplasi membutuhkan ‘berdiam diri dan penyerahan diri’. Kita harus belajar punya waktu kontemplasi di hadapan Tuhan. Kita bukan mengosongkan diri seperti yang dilakukan aliran-aliran spiritualitas lain, tetapi kita mengkontemplasikan Firman Tuhan.

Satu masukan saya untuk kontemplasi. Pendekatan Lectio Divina ini sedang coba kami lakukan di dalam KTB majelis GKY Green Ville. Dalam 1 ruangan yang tidak terlalu besar, kami membagi majelis dan hamba Tuhan menjadi 4 kelompok. Bisa dibayangkan, dengan diskusi yang seru, ruangan itu menjadi terlalu ramai. Maka sebenarnya tidak mungkin menjalankan elemen kontemplasi ini. Tetapi kami menggantinya dengan berjanji untuk terus mengingat ayat itu dalam hidup sehari-hari, paling tidak selama 1 bulan ke depan sebelum rapat majelis yang berikut. Dan kami juga mencoba saling mengingatkan di antara kami. Diharapkan ketika dalam kehidupan sehari-hari, terjadi hal-hal yang berkaitan dengan ayat tersebut, kami langsung ingat lagi ayat itu, sehingga ayat itu makin terinternalisasi.

Walaupun kontemplasi dengan berdiam diri dan menyerahkan diri kepada Tuhan adalah sesuatu yang menurut saya harus kita lakukan juga, tetapi cara kontemplasi dengan ‘bergerak’ ini juga sesuatu yang sangat baik.

Bagaimanapun pemazmur mengatakan “Berbahagialah orang yang … kesukaannya ialah Taurat Tuhan dan merenungkan Taurat itu siang dan malam” (Mzm 1:1-2). Bagaimana mungkin orang itu merenungkan siang dan malam, kalau bukan sambil ‘bergerak’ atau merenungkannya sambil menjalankan aktivitas sehari-hari?

GI. Jeffrey Siauw
GKY Jemaat Green Ville
http://jeffreysiauw.blogspot.com

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