CONTENTMENT

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  Philippians 4:11 (NIV)

 

For years my brother Jack and I had promised our dad that he could stay at home as long as his health permitted.  And then the time came when the doctor told us that Dad’s mental illness was endangering him, our mom, and his caregivers.  We had to find a safe place for him.

At the last minute, our consultant told us about family residential care in private homes with trained attendants.  Although we’d never heard of this option, we discovered that such a home was available in my parents’ neighborhood.

When Jack and I visited the family home, we knew it was God’s providential response to our promise and our prayers.  The family was Christian; one of the daughters was training to be a nurse; and we fell in love with them immediately.

Jack and I returned to our parents’ home to tell Momo the doctor’s recommendation and then to ask her a difficult question:  Would she move out of the house she and Dad had built together and had lived in for over fifty years?  We gently explained Dad’s mental condition and his need for more skilled care, and then we asked if she would be willing to go with him.  We knew he wouldn’t be able to leave his wife of seventy-one years.

“I’ll go,” Momo replied, “and I’ll like it even if I don’t like it.”  Her faithful walk with the Lord since childhood had shaped in her a willingness to be led (as Peter) in places she might not have chosen for herself.

When Papa left the hospital, Jack took him to his new “home” with rooms decorated just as they had been in the house he and Momo had shared together.  And Momo was there, full of love, full of care.

In an era when we so often are expected to think first of ourselves at the expense of those we love and who love us, I remember Momo’s “liking [her circumstance] even when she didn’t like it.”  Of her willingness to follow Christ when it meant death to her personal desires.  God’s grace and her selflessness empowered her to be the companion Dad needed for his last days, and her joy in the Lord sustained her.

 

 

Father, so many of us have wonderful spiritual heritages.  As we follow the examples of those who have gone before us, help to remember that others are watching us.  Glorify yourself in us.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

REJOICING ALMOST ALWAYS

 

Rejoice in the Lord always.  Philippians 4:4

 

Paul tells the church at Philippi that they should rejoice in Christ.  No excuse.  No exceptions.  He repeats himself and says that they should always rejoice in the Lord.  Paul was in prison when he wrote this to the Philippians, and he said that he’d learned the secret of contentment in every circumstance:  he could do all things through [Jesus] who gave him strength. Everything that he couldn’t do, God could do through him.

 

I was working in Uganda and heading north from Kampala for a huge celebration and time of thanksgiving.  I invited Jennifer, a missionary friend, and Bea, a clergy wife.  And Bea invited a friend.  Four of us prepared to leave early in the morning in order to complete the eight-hour trip before dark.

 

I arrived at the meeting place to load up and leave.  No one was ready.  The van arrived, and we discovered that the back door for loading stacks of equipment wouldn’t open – it has just broken, according to the driver.  So we lifted everything over three rows of seats and got off an hour or so after our scheduled departure.

 

Finally, we were moving.  I led the group in a series of praise songs.  I remember that we were singing This is the Day That the Lord Hath Made when the inside of the van began to fill with smoke.  Eventually, our driver decided we should stop and see what might be wrong.  Bea said to me, pointedly, Why did you stop singing?  Woops.  We tried another half-hearted song as our driver checked the engine with a puzzled expression.  And then we sat.

 

There in the middle of a banana plantation, villagers gathered to sympathize and to teach us how to play one of their games.  After all, it looked like we might be there for a while, and they wanted us to be entertained.  Jennifer pulled out her cell phone and called everyone she knew to see if they could send another van.  After numerous calls, she was successful and joined me in playing corro.  Then Bea’s friend asked Jennifer why she hadn’t called so and so because she knew they were nearby and would help.  You can understand why Jennifer didn’t respond at that moment.  Should we have begun singing again?

 

An hour and a half later, the second van arrived; we carried all the equipment back over the three seats and loaded up for our drive north.  By then we were friends with the neighbors and thanked them for their hospitality.  On the road again, we began singing.  This is the day…  Perhaps we had gone ten miles.  Perhaps.  The second van began sputtering and came to an abrupt stop.  Whatever could be wrong this time?

 

Our driver politely told us that when we called, we said we were in a hurry, so he hadn’t bothered to stop for fuel.  I forked over the 100,000 shillings necessary to fill the gerry can with fuel once he found someone willing to part with the precious liquid.  Our driver headed down the red dirt road, hoping to find someone who could help.  Jennifer quoted her oft-stated phrase:  TIA, This is Africa.  And we laughed.  And then we prayed, thanking God for safety and for his provisions of friendship, fuel, and funds.

 

Rejoicing is so much easier among friends.  And the trip north?  A smashing success and another opportunity to experience God’s faithfulness.

 

Lord, we can always rejoice when we remember who you are and whose we are.  We embrace your call to find our joy in you as we ask that you be glorified in us.  AMEN.

SAM IN GOLI

…a little child shall lead them. Isaiah 11:6

I was assigned to serve in Uganda for about seven months. For years, Grandson Sam had accompanied me to work in a church community center, so it wasn’t unusual for him to accept my invitation to spend the summer in Goli. Sam was about to turn eighteen, and I’d gotten a placement for him in the village clinic with Sister Kim.

That summer Sam worked in the tiny lab peering at slides of native bacteria and local diseases, learning more than he would have from a text. He worked in the pharmacy dispensing drugs, and he accompanied doctors on their routes around the district and watched them perform surgeries. (He even picked up some of the local “bugs” on his visits.)

The business director of the diocese was a regular morning visitor in our little cinder block house and loved to share our hot tea and chapatti (local flat bread). When Rev. Martin discovered that Sam played an unusual instrument, a violin, he asked if he would play for Sunday service in the cathedral. Sam was thrilled and practiced a lovely Beethoven selection. He was already a local favorite, so when everyone learned that he would be playing a “western” instrument for church, there was great anticipation. That Sunday, the music stand was set up, Sam tuned his instrument, and began to play. Not a sound was heard other than the beautiful notes from Sam’s gifted fingers. And then the giggling began to ripple through the congregation. No one had ever heard such an instrument. Sam played on and on and finally ended to great applause and laughter.

Sam’s popularity grew, and he was often assaulted by the children who loved to pull him into their games. He hung out with the bishop’s children, and they all became fast friends. When he came down with malaria, despite taking his preventive meds and lathering himself with Deet, the whole diocesan compound was alarmed. Malaria was not something muzungus handled well. Sam was confined to his bed with fever, weakness, and all the dangerous symptoms brought about by the bite of an Anopheles mosquito. Nurses from the clinic came to treat him, and Sister Kim directed her cook to make special broths for Sam. Villagers made enquiries about him. But two of my Ugandan friends did even more. Evaline and Esther sat up all night praying for him. No fanfare. No big deal. They prayed until they sensed Sam would get better. No one was surprised when he made a full recovery.

The time passed too quickly as we worked throughout the warm days and read to each other late into the night. One day we sat together in our little cinder block house sharing a companionable meal in silence. The doors were left open to catch any passing breeze, and our dogs and an occasional goat wandered in and out. I had given up on teaching our sweet cook how to prepare some of our familiar dishes, so we learned to take advantage of the fresh fruits and vegetables growing all around us.

In the middle of this idyllic situation, Sam spoke up. “Grandma, these people have nothing.” I waited. “But they’re happy,” Sam added. I had to agree. Did Sam recognize that the faith they had was worth more than any material blessing we Westerners value so much? “I’m so happy,” Sam went on. “I’m glad I’ve learned this at my age.”

How soon that summer was gone, and Sam left, taking with him the treasures he had gathered in Goli.

Father, you told us a little child would lead us. Sam saw and lived with God’s joy evidenced through the lives and love of our Goli friends. May he never forget, and may we always cherish those eternal things that can never be taken away. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

LET IT SNOW

Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow? Job 38:22 (KJV)

Here in South Texas I can enjoy the winter vicariously with a cup of hot chocolate in front of a blazing fireplace. And every year, without fail, we hope that we will have a White Christmas. (There are even companies that produce fake snowballs so children can indulge in a friendly “fight.”) It’s only in our fertile imaginations that we have the blessings of a white landscape without any of the accompanying challenges.

The last snow we had was in 1984, and it shut down the city. Everyone had an unexpected holiday (even the weathermen). That is the benchmark to which we point. If only we could have a Christmas like that…

Our missions ministry currently has a team of young professionals working in an orphanage outside Nairobi. Last year when we were there, we were privileged to attend the school’s Christmas program. How bemused, yet delighted, we were to hear the whole school sing Jingle Bells. “Dashing through the snow…” I would be surprised if even one of those little guys knew what snow was really about.

And so, I think that perhaps snow and Christmas enjoyment are linked together in many cultures. But then I read God’s question to Job (above v. 38:22). He describes snow as a treasure that is kept in a storehouse. What a lovely image. Even God regards snow as special and something that can be enjoyed world-wide without cost.

God distributes his gifts freely and says that he gives us all things to enjoy (I Timothy 6:17). Every good and perfect gift comes from above (James 1:17). Let us be thankful and enjoy all the treasures of nature that freely come from God’s loving hand.

Father, sometimes we can be grumpy about the weather. Discipline us to accept all things from your hand, and help us to learn to be content, if not enjoying, your providences. Thank you. AMEN.