The harvest of gratitude

It’s a quickstep now, to the end of the year. The Thanksgiving holidays, winter festivals, the whole Christmas season, and New Years celebrations race along, catching everyone in their path. Miss one finger crossover in that sonata, and you’ll go sideways with the metronome! 

It’s like that at the ministry where I work, as we work through budget projections, strategic planning, the end-of-year bookkeeping, the most generous time of year for our financial supporters, the everyday duties, the conventions to prepare for and attend, and big projects with too-close deadlines. Of course, it never stops, because nothing slows down in the new year, either! It’s not as easy to keep smiling (as opposed to grimacing) when there’s so much pressure during the holiday season. Surely you have experienced the same thing. Even retired people say that since they retired, they’ve never worked so hard!

But then we receive a thank-you from halfway around the world or even across the country, reminding us that we are loved, appreciated, and that someone thanks God for us! That knowledge brings a burst of energy. It’s encouraging!

In Ukraine, I watched some “church ladies” who were entranced with the message of grace they heard from their visiting evangelist. And later, when that evangelist learned of their joy, he was encouraged and strengthened in his labors. In Russia, when the social worker at Zaoksky Theological Seminary heard of the American and Canadian interest in providing Bible teaching and comfort to “her” orphans, and watched as they impetuously filled the passed hat with $2300 in rubles, dollars, and grivnas, she wept for joy. (And the people who gave were not far from tears, either.)

Nearly a hundred evangelists left their families at home, and sacrificed thousands of dollars and weeks of their time to minister in Ukraine. Yes, they enjoyed their missionary service time there, they made friends, they loved the hospitality—but when they flew home, they were unsure of the results of their investment. They were planting seeds for the Holy Spirit to nurture and harvest—but they wanted to have a glimpse of the progress. Who wouldn’t?

God loves to give us gifts. So He inspired the union president to send a thank-you letter by email, along with an Excel file of the baptism and Bible-study preliminary results. Imagine the joy they’re feeling right now! They’ll not be able to contain their enthusiasm, but will share that excitement with their church families. 

“God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways so that you're ready for anything and everything, more than just ready to do what needs to be done. As one psalmist puts it, ‘He throws caution to the winds, giving to the needy in reckless abandon. His right-living, right-giving ways never run out, never wear out.’ This most generous God who gives seed to the farmer that becomes bread for your meals is more than extravagant with you. He gives you something you can then give away, which grows into full-formed lives, robust in God, wealthy in every way, so that you can be generous in every way, producing with us great praise to God.” 2 Corinthians 9:8-11 MSG.

So sacrificial giving grows great wealth? Although it seems like a paradox, that’s what Paul is saying. Investing in seed and the hard labor that goes along with farming the crop leads to a multiplied yield. The harvested grain becomes bread for your meals, even the bread of Communion. God is truly extravagant.

When we realize even a tiny bit of what God has done for us in His mercy, compassion, and boundless love by offering His own perfect, divine life to give us eternal life at His side—we have a reason to be grateful. It’s so much more than being thankful for a nice house, job, health, loved ones, or a special meal on the table. God actually gives us the attitude and action of gratitude.

The English clergyman and poet, George Herbert (1593-1633), wrote,

Thou hast given so much to me, Give one thing more—a grateful heart; Not thankful when it pleases me, As if thy blessings had spare days; But such a heart whose very pulse may be Thy praise.

“Carrying out this social relief work involves far more than helping meet the bare needs of poor Christians. It also produces abundant and bountiful thanksgivings to God. This relief offering is a prod to live at your very best, showing your gratitude to God by being openly obedient to the plain meaning of the Message of Christ. You show your gratitude through your generous offerings to your needy brothers and sisters, and really toward everyone. Meanwhile, moved by the extravagance of God in your lives, they'll respond by praying for you in passionate intercession for whatever you need. Thank God for this gift, his gift. No language can praise it enough!” 2 Corinthians 9:12-15 MSG.

Yes, thank God for His gift of a grateful and gracious heart. Thank Him that we live in a country that recognizes that giving money, time, and thanks is a blessing to not only the recipient, but the giver as well. Thank Him that He has given you extravagant blessings in order that you may have the same joy of giving that He does.

Thank you, Lord, for making us grateful. Thank you for sharing brilliant glimpses of eternity and what our puny labors have wrought. Thank you for the very pizzazz and vibrancy that comes from giving—and from receiving thanks. Remind us to share that gratitude, that grateful heart, with those around us by thanking them.

Published elsewhere in November 2007

On such a night as this

It was a long day, full of work which never seems to get signed off—it just perpetuates. There were errands to run, a meeting, and a music rehearsal at church. The seventeen hours I’ve been up and running have drained me. The stress of relationships at work, in the church, in the family, and the longing for love is always simmering inside, too.

But--the Passover full moon has been up over the horizon for a couple of hours. The night sky is so bright with the moon that I can see the jagged rim of the mountains, and the porch lights of homes along the ridge miles away. A bird calls from a nearby tree. I just can’t breathe deeply enough: the citrus groves release intoxicating perfume from waxy white blossoms at the same time that my patio’s lavender wisteria and pink jasmine scent wafts on the gentle breeze. There’s not quite enough wind to stir the chimes, but enough to riffle my hair. My bare feet are crossed on the patio chair across from me.

Mali pounces on a spot in the grass where she can hear a vole or gopher digging under the surface. Abby skitters around under the porch light, chasing a moth. Evie chews on a ball and tosses it hopefully toward my feet. All is quiet in the neighborhood, and I sigh with content--and reluctance that soon I’ll have to lock up the house and go to sleep. It’s almost a shame to be unconscious and miss such a night as this.

On such an evening, I can’t imagine the terror and stress of painting lamb’s blood on the Hebrew doorposts to keep away the threat of death. Nor can I envision leaving my home in the middle of the night to escape a holocaust. I’m grateful for Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross, and that his blood identifies me as his child. The threat of hell has passed over me, and the promise of eternal life in his kingdom has already begun.

I can revel in the spring air, which God has perfumed to delight the senses, and relax in that Sabbath-rest he’s given to us by fulfilling and completing the law, and replacing a written code with the words he speaks to my heart. That rest is knowing that I am safe and secure in God’s hands, both physically and spiritually.

So although I will sleep tonight with the dog lying on the floor nearby, and the windows closed for security, my soul rests in the knowledge that my place in eternity is a done deal. And when I wake, I pray to remember that Jesus' resurrection means that the places in my heart that died of grief and injury will be created anew, like the bare, gray twigs of wisteria burst into giant spikes of spicy sweetness.

There is life after death, and there is life after despair, because Jesus took our infirmities and our rightful punishment, to give us his health and his reward.

God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” Revelation 21:3-5 NLT

For since the world began,

no ear has heard,

and no eye has seen a God like you,

who works for those who wait for him! Isaiah 64:4 NLT

Get a life!

A solitary person, completely alone—no children, no family, no friends—yet working obsessively late into the night, compulsively greedy for more and more, never bothering to ask, “Why am I working like a dog, never having any fun? And who cares?” More smoke. A bad business. Ecclesiastes 4:8 MSG

My time is short—what’s left of my life races off too fast for me to even glimpse the good. Job 9:25 MSG

Hey, I resemble those remarks! I was searching an online concordance on another theme when I found these verses, and they pierced my soul. OK, not enough to leave the office so I’d go home and play with the dog, but enough to make me rethink balancing my life.

My mother used to say that I needed balance, when I was working 60-hour weeks in addition to leading the singles ministry for my state and being a church musician on Saturdays and Sundays. (But I thought Mom was jealous of my time.) My boss told me to find balance. My doctor said that being tired and stressed was preventing weight loss. I’m not so unbalanced that they ganged up on me: these are comments I’ve heard over many years. (And I haven’t learned yet?)

A partial defense is that I earned my Christian high school and university tuition, paid for my own second-rate car, and found employment without the advantage of being the relative or crony of someone “important.” I relish solo vacations. I made my own family-of-choice at work and church. Work is fun, and it’s good fellowship, so I often steal from leisure time to work at home. I love working at church. As a single woman with a mortgage, it’s terribly difficult to say NO to paying work—or to a request from the pastor, who thinks that 1 Corinthians 7:34 means that singles have oodles of time for church projects!

But a weekly rest with God, and making a daily “quiet hour” to commune with Him tends to level the teeter-totter of my life. If someone says, “Get a life,” I can say: “Thank you, but would you like some of my excess?”

[He has given us a spirit] of power and of love and of calm and well-balanced mind and discipline and self-control. 2 Timothy 1:7 AMP

Up close and personal

God is there, ready to help; I’m fearless no matter what. Who or what can get to me? Hebrews 13:6 MSG

Over the years, my pastors have often preached on Luke 10:38-42, Jesus visiting the home of Martha and Mary of Bethany. Their subjects were on prioritizing spiritual matters over the physical, stress management, asking if you were a Mary or a Martha, and other sermon topics. I like to think about the relationship Jesus had with the family.

In a culture where women were property, Martha surprisingly owned the home. Her siblings Lazarus and Mary, and uncle Simon depended on Martha for their home. She must have been quite the “Proverbs 31” woman! Between Martha’s family and servants, Jesus, at least twelve male and an unknown number of female disciples, and the obligatory community invitees, Martha must have managed food, hygiene, and lodging for more than 30 people any time Jesus came by! And she wouldn’t have “opened her home” to Him unless the love and honor were heartfelt.

Perhaps when Mary had anointed Jesus’ head and washed His travel-weary feet before the meal, she got lost in His message or His adventure stories of recent travels, and abandoned her basin and cloth to sit at Jesus’ feet. She could look up into His eyes, drink in the animation of His face and hands, and feel herself enveloped in warmth, unconditional acceptance, and the completion of everything missing in her life. Why would you remember to prepare supper when the Bread of Life and the Living Water were satisfying every need? So when Martha asked for help, Jesus reminded her that being in close proximity to Him was the treasure.

That’s where we want to be—at Jesus’ feet. When it comes to career or house and garden, it’s OK to be a Martha. But remember that though home or livelihood may be taken away, our relationship with Jesus cannot. He freely gives us the gift of His love and salvation, and He will never withhold His love. Be relaxed and content with what you have: a friendship with Jesus.

Since God assured us, “I’ll never let you down, never walk off and leave you,” we can boldly quote, God is there, ready to help; I’m fearless no matter what. Who or what can get to me? Hebrews 13:5, 6 MSG

Whatever it takes

Monday: the summit…

On Monday, a book manuscript on which I had worked long and hard (twice) was officially accepted for hardcover publication in 2010. http://christykrobinson.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-book-manuscript-is-officially.html

In 2004, I conceived the idea of a multiple-author daily devotional book, wrote author guidelines, solicited articles from about 50 authors, wrote more than 90 of the 365 articles myself, rewrote many pieces, and edited all of them. It was laid out for publication and printed at a Los Angeles vendor, formatted for the company website, and we sold several thousand of the 4-volume sets for $15 during the 2005 calendar year. All of the writing and most of the editorial work was done at home on my ice-age Mac with dial-up internet.

As an appreciation gift for helping with several other projects of mine, I sent the set to the book acquisitions editor at Review & Herald Publishing Association, who liked it so much that she and the Book Committee decided to knock someone else’s manuscript out of the six-year waiting list, and put ours in instead.

This year, the acquisitions editor, now assistant vice president in the books division, called to update me on the new editing and formatting to their specifications, and to set deadlines for submission of the manuscript and other pieces they need to publish and market the book. So, again at home on nights and weekends, I set about replacing weaker articles, finding new Bible texts and translations to fit every day’s entry, and format the manuscript to size, font, and space requirements. I finished one week before deadline and emailed it to the publisher.

The vice president’s reaction was extremely complimentary, and on June 8, she notified me of the official decision of the Book Committee to accept the manuscript for publication.

Thursday: the valley…

Meanwhile, at my workplace, people were tense, and tempers were short. Most people didn’t know why this was going on, just that everything was on edge. I loved what I did, but not some of the practices at the workplace. Behind our backs, daggers were being thrown. Accusations. Threats. Criticisms. I knew what was happening because I’d seen and heard budget discussions at committee meetings. This was the end of the second quarter of the fiscal year.

But though the workplace and its events consume much of our waking hours, we all have lives to live. Families to attend to and enjoy, chores to do, recreation and spiritual times, friendships to establish, relationships to cultivate. Heart things. Life and death things. My aunt and uncle both have cancer, and uncle Ted, a kind and gentle Lutheran minister, and deep thinker whom I loved to talk with for hours, passed away one day before his eightieth birthday.

All this and more – even wonderful, positive things – had built and built to a fever pitch in my life. My shoulders, back, and chest muscles ached, I only slept three to four hours a night, and despite the usual dieting and exercising, I rapidly gained a lot of water weight and kept it on for weeks. Cortisol, the best friend of stress, fright, and flight, is a mother bear. The health insurance benefits just aren’t enough compensation for the destruction going on inside me.

After consultation with several Christian friends, I decided to add another element to my daily devotion: a radical prayer. So on Thursday morning, I said, “Lord, to accomplish these specific things, to fulfill your promises, and advance your plan for me, do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes. I accept that it could be painful for a time, maybe even excruciating. I’m already at my breaking point. But I also trust that you will heal me again as you have before, and I’ll be blessed more greatly. So just do it. Whatever it takes.”

During the morning, I had a heavy, oppressive feeling, and my body ached. My head hurt. My stomach was a hard knot. Physical symptoms I’d suffered many times over the months. At noon, the ministry officers called a staff meeting for employees. At 1:30, the explanations about budgets and realities were given, and I was convinced that I was one of the people who’d be laid off later in the day. At 5:40 pm, the CEO and my supervisor came in to my office, and I was told that I was one of the people to be let go, along with a third of the staff. The survivors get a 10 percent pay cut (erasing all gains of the last 10 years), and have to pick up the duties of the dismissed. “It’s not personal, it’s only about the budget,” I was told again and again.

Still, I’m a 50 year-old woman with no other means of support, no family members to help financially, in one of the worst economic and highest-unemployment regions of the entire country. I have a mortgage to maintain. It’s hard not to take it personally, especially when I know the rancor going on over our heads and behind our backs. Our corporate culture is not the sweetest. Two of us had been led to this ministry by God some years ago (seven for me, fourteen for him). And for several years, we’ve prayed to be led back out! But where God places you, you must stay until He moves you on. We don’t abandon our posts because of discomfort. We stick through until relieved of duty or posted elsewhere.

The walk out of the valley…

But within an hour of the exit interview, I remembered what I’d prayed in the morning. “Whatever it takes.” So, like any other Thursday evening, I took my niece, staying with me for a few weeks, to the city’s street fair and farmer’s market for a few hours. We listened to the bands, petted the Humane Society puppies, bought some pizza slices and cold drinks, and strolled through the crowds.

At home, there were 38 messages on Facebook, and my cell phone and land line rang simultaneously with friends calling to give support and love. I now have a paycheck that includes 176 hours of unused vacation I’d earned, plus severance and a two-week in-lieu-of-notice salary. My insurance will be paid through end of July. I’ve applied for several positions already. I’ve filed for unemployment checks, too. (Should get them if California doesn't go bankrupt.) And I have very carefully saved a small emergency fund over the years. This is not the end of the world, but neither is it a three-week vacation to England from which I’d return to the job I love. (Sigh… maybe I can go back to England after a year or two in the new job.)

This separation from my job is not the only answer to the radical prayer. I asked the Lord for some significant and specific changes (which I’ll not share here until they happen). This layoff is combined with a deep peace and contentment that God is leading me to a huge miracle. Epic!

I’m expanding my job search from this area of southern California to my native city of Phoenix, where I have lots of lifetime friends, and my brother’s family. Moving back “home” would not be a traumatic event!

Goodbye, cortisol. That weight gain? I’ve lost six pounds in six days. After the first night, with only three hours of sleep, I’ve slept about six or seven hours. Working out. Loving on the pets. I’m giving myself the “spa” treatment and my face already looks younger.

So I very much appreciate your prayers for my future in career, lifestyle, and relationships (not necessarily in that order). But don’t worry about my spirits or that I’ll go postal. For me, this is a God-thing. This is wonderful. The dread is gone. I’m out of the “valley of the shadow of death, and I fear no evil,” for the Lord my Shepherd is guiding me, doing whatever it takes.

Uh-oh. Made you yawn.

Ohhh…arrr…hoo-ahhh-mmm! That felt good. But why did this text-yawn make you yawn? You haven’t yet? You will soon.

Animals, fish, and human fetuses yawn. Some people think we yawn because we’re sleep-deprived, decompressing after stress, or stabilizing ear pressure. Others guess that yawning is actually a physiological mechanism to concentrate attention when we’re just not personally involved (bored). Some of us yawn more often on a dark and cloudy day, during soft and slow music—or in a committee meeting!

In a 2007 issue of the Journal of Evolutionary Psychology (bedtime reading?), researcher Andrew C. Gallup unequivocally states that yawning is contagious, and postulates that yawning cools the brain so it can operate more efficiently. (Since heat is an energy transfer, maybe our brains are smokin’ hot from processing the journal article.)

Remember the illustration of the pig and the chicken at breakfast time. The chicken is involved in contributing the egg to the menu, but the pig is truly committed to providing the bacon. (Some doctors say that humans should be wholly committed to fruits and grains in the morning.)

We don’t often yawn when we’re physically, intellectually, or emotionally engaged—truly committed. When we’re telling a personal story, we’re full of energy and enthusiasm. Jesus said that when we’re witnessing before authorities, God will provide the words for us. Even when we’re comforting and encouraging people in Jesus’ name, we’re energized. Yawning usually won’t happen at times like that.

The word “enthusiasm” is rooted in Greek “en theos,” translated “God within” or “possessed by God.” Although it’s nearly impossible to describe to an unbeliever, believers share the experience of God speaking to our hearts. It may be actual words and sentences, a conviction, the urge to action, a visual image, the memory of a similar situation, or an entirely new concept that never before entered your mind. When God speaks, you are enthused.

Enthusiasm should be as contagious as yawns. When it is that “catchy,” it’s called “evangelism.” When we know Jesus as the Friend who intensely loves us from eternity past to eternity future, we cannot be blasé or indolent. His commission to preach the good news of salvation by grace is not an easy task—but He gives us the tools to do His bidding.

“God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them. We want each of you to show this same diligence to the very end, in order to make your hope sure. We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised.” Hebrews 6:10-12 NIV.

The Lord wants to possess you—inhabit you. Look at the enthusiasm He calls you to in Deuteronomy 30:8-10 The Message, “And you will make a new start, listening obediently to God, keeping all his commandments that I'm commanding you today. God, your God, will outdo himself in making things go well for you: you'll have babies, get calves, grow crops, and enjoy an all-around good life. Yes, God will start enjoying you again, making things go well for you just as he enjoyed doing it for your ancestors. But only if you listen obediently to God, your God, and keep the commandments and regulations written in this Book of Revelation. Nothing halfhearted here; you must return to God, your God, totally, heart and soul, holding nothing back.”

Totally, heart and soul, holding nothing back. That’s how God blesses us, and that’s the love He desires from us. We’ll forget all about yawning.

Related links
www.howstuffworks.com/question572.htm (Especially the “interesting yawning facts” sidebar!)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yawn
www.epjournal.net/filestore/ep0592101.pdf