Ponderings and Poetry by Dan Haase
Katydid
Say a name and you sing a song.
sunlight-
all that blooms
in my garden
Pumpkin Flower
lattice-
in the father's hand
his grandchild
Bounty
You wake. Maybe the night was long — dreams caused a shortness of breath or there were no dreams at all. You wander and wonder: how long? But as the clouds pass and the sun continues to rise, you decide to follow suit.
garden harvest
a simple pleasure
that yellow finch
Dan Haase reflects on this year's harvest.
The gardener lets out a gasp. Some creature has severed the fruit from the vine. All the preparing and planting and protecting; in a moment, loss.
Last night, 13 died in a double suicide car bombing near the airport in Mogadishu. And what of the boy who went to the lake with his buddies never to come home. Or the girl, taken from her front yard...
So many seeds have been tended in this wide world. The Gardner, a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief, cries out.
Some may say, "It's only a watermelon", and I might have agreed, but for the kneeling it took to examine it.
hidden path -
sounds of cicadas
overwhelm
by Lorraine Triggs
My oldest sister and I decided to play Hangman while we waited for our mom's flight to arrive. Out came the paper and we drew the rudimentary gallows (even as adults, we still included the hook in our games). Underneath, my sister drew seven blank lines.
Going for the vowels I chose A and E. She filled in the first blank with A and the last with E.
No clue.
I kept guessing, sometimes right, mostly wrong. I had no idea what the word was, and my hangman was quickly filling in.
I finally gave up and my sister completed the word:
A-N-T-I-Q-U-E
I stared at it and announced, "An-ti-que? There's no such word as an-ti-que" with a stress on the last of my three-syllable pronunciation.
"It's antique," she replied as only older sibs can.
Duh. I wasn't a little kid playing Hangman. I knew the word "antique"—I love antiques—but I couldn't see the word for the life of me, only the individual letters.
My perspective on life can be a lot like that game of Hangman. I am so focused on the individual parts of my life, whether the good or bad pieces, that I don't see God's good hand at work in it at all. I don't see the word for all the letters.
About two years ago, my husband, Wil, and I were asked if we wanted to be small group leaders. Naturally, I said . . . "No! I don't want to."
I had some pretty solid reasons: I already had my Women's Bible Study small group, I really couldn't afford another night out, especially working full time, and what about that book Crazy Busy that Pastor Josh Stringer kept talking about?
Then the real reason surfaced. Years ago, when I first came to church, I was all excited to join a small group. The husband and wife invited my flatmate and me to dinner, but they didn't want me in their group. They only had room for my friend. Small groups represented one thing to me—rejection.
Did I want to be in a small group? Absolutely not. Would I anyway?
Well, when I confessed this hurt to Wil, my wise and kind husband understood my reluctance and had some interesting things to say about the people who didn't have room to put me in their small group. We used to call these "life groups," which might feel a little bit like a "life sentence" in jail, if you end up in a bad group. Wil assured me that the new life group concept was different. "Let's try it for a couple of years," he said. So I said yes.
Well, we're starting our third year as small group leaders, and had I stayed focused on my good reasons for saying no, I would have missed out on God's good hand in placing Chris, Tom, Steve, Lois, Mary, Kathy, Mark, Julia, Jim, Terri, Rick and Laura in my life. I would have missed out on the joys and sorrows that we've shared. I wouldn't have seen God's good hand writing in day-to-day living ...
G-R-A-C-E,
L-O-V-E,
F-O-R-G-I-V-E-N-E-S-S,
S-A-L-V-A-T-I-O-N.
It's a humbling and glorious reality to know that my bits and pieces are not the most important things in the universe and that God has invited me to come and see with him, and them, and you.
The Word shared by Jacob Kimathi is bringing families together in Nairobi. Jacob first told his story to Overseas Council, one of College Church's missions partners.
I was blessed to be raised in a Christian home. I spent most of my high school years heavily involved in ministry and loved every minute. One day at my mentor’s house, I heard a clear and distinct voice asking me to serve the Lord in the ministry. I was 17 years old, but it wasn’t until I was 31 that I quit my job and went to Bible school. After my schooling, I became a full-time pastor in my local church.
Three years ago, I felt called to continue my studies. I applied to AIU’s PhD program and was accepted. I have appreciated my professors and the applicable knowledge I am acquiring.
Africa International University (AIU) is a private Christian institution. The university is located on 53 acres of land in Karen, a suburb on the outskirts of Nairobi. AIU was founded in 1983 and was formerly known as Nairobi Evangelical Graduate School of Theology (NEGST).
In addition to teaching part-time at AIU, I work to develop discipleship materials and programs for churches in my area. I also do a lot of pastoral counseling.
Recently, I counseled a young couple who had been married for six years. Many bad decisions were working to destroy their marriage. I worked with them for a long time, and praise be to God, they have reconciled! In fact, they are referring other couples who are struggling in their marriages. My work is not always easy, but it has been greatly rewarding!
The calling of God on our lives is an individual as each one of us. Jacob's faithful service and diligent studies touch lives and change hearts--thanks be to God. Sometimes it's easier to see God's hand in the lives of people. How is God using you to help other people? Consider that question this Labor Day weekend. Look for God's hand at work. Sometimes we see it clearly, other times it's harder. But it's always there. He is always there.
Ashley Barney points us to Christ with this poem and meditation. Check out the ChurchFolk setting of her new song.
There’s a blood boiling in my veins.
I’m a poor, wand’ring sinner in need of grace.
I’ve got unrighteous anger, I’ve got pride,
I’ve got too much to prove before I die.
O my soul, will you find no relief?
Come and lay your vengeance down at mercy’s seat.
But I’m bound by the fear that I’ll be found:
All along I’ve been a liar and a fraud.
O my God, how do I stand today,
A woman by pride and temper stained?
I’ve no joy woven in my bones,
Wasn’t born with light or love within my soul.
As I follow my Lord to Calvary,
I look up and see my fury on that tree.
Oh, my righteous Savior died for me.
Slow to anger, rich in love is He.
It’s a hard road from cradle to the grave,
But my trust is in the Lamb who was slain,
Who bore the world’s rage that He might save
All poor sinners who humbly call His name.
I penned these words as a confession of my struggle with anger, and as a word of remembrance for what I should do about it. Some people become sad or depressed when they are hurt, but I immediately become angry whenever I feel slighted. One day in particular I became so frustrated about my inability to overcome my anger towards someone who had mistreated me and had left the church and biblical faith. I had been trying to get over the recurring disappointment with them for a few years when I finally realized that there was nothing in my nature, no virtue or strength of my own, that could deal with this. My ultimate mistake was thinking that I could simply choose to forgive and then all bitterness would just go away on its own. No matter how much I made resolutions of forgiveness, the bitter root would thrust up its ugly fruit in my sarcastic words.
I’m beginning to realize that God allows me to experience such frustration so that I will see the depths of my darkness and my need for Him. Before I harbored this resentment I may have been deceived into thinking that I was essentially a kind and forgiving person, rather than a sinner who desperately needs to be forgiven. I also may have prided myself in my faith, thinking myself intelligent and wise for choosing Christ, rather than a person who was graciously and undeservedly offered the free gift of salvation. Facing the fact of my bitterness showed me who I really am.
But what am I to do about my anger? It was a mistake to think that getting over bitterness was a one-time deal. I find that very seldom do our sins evaporate after one confession; rather, they must be fought continually whenever they attempt to creep back into our hearts. Bitter thoughts are kept at bay through the habit of resisting them and immediately clinging to the truth of God’s Word. If I give in to a sarcastic or biting tone when talking about my feelings, even when talking to those closest to me, I am only feeding the fire of resentment.
When I am tempted to pity myself because of what I lack, I must remind myself that Christ’s body, the church, is my ultimate place of relationship, of mentorship and companionship, and in him and his church I find all I need. When I am tempted to indulge in mocking the person who mistreated me, I must remind myself that I have mistreated the risen Lord, and yet he has forgiven me. When I am tempted to be angry at a person’s lack of care and concern, I must remember that all goodness comes from God alone and I am only ever able to show proper care and concern for others because his grace enables me.
The pivotal moment of this song occurs with the words, “As I follow my Lord to Calvary, I look up and see my fury on that tree. Oh, my righteous Savior died for me. Slow to anger, rich in love is He.” The disarming nature of the crucifixion stops my anger in its tracks. Here is a God who had every reason to be angry with us and punish us for how our anger and pride has torn apart his world, and yet he takes that wrath upon himself. What reason have I to be angry when the God-man humbly received such mockery, humiliation and pain so that we could be reconciled to him? When humanity has so deeply rejected God and yet he extends such relentless love to us, who am I to hold anything over anyone? This truth steals away my pride. If I perpetually live in the knowledge that I am forgiven, I am only left in awe of my Savior, “who bore the world’s rage that He might save all poor sinners who humbly call His name.”
Listen to Wayfaring Stranger.
by Eliza Billingham
The college team in Vietnam--Eliza is in the front row, second from left.
Two years ago, Thao was a student at the summer english camp when College Church first sent a team of college students to Hanoi, Vietnam. She has aged out of the camp since then, but because she developed such a meaningful relationship with her teacher and is so curious about Christianity, we keep connected with her in Hanoi. I met Thao last year and was excited to get to see her again when I returned to to the camp this year. She keeps in touch with a couple of her teachers from Wheaton, has a Vietnamese Bible and, this year, started reading the Gospel of John.
There are two incredible blessings that are obvious when we discuss Christianity with Thao. First, she is the one who initiates intentional conversations about Christianity. In a communist country where the sharing of values between foreigners and nationals is somewhat suspicious and slightly risky in public, it is an extra gift that she asks the questions, and we try to answer them, often provoking more questions.
This year, Thao began our conversation, asking us to explain John 1:1 to her. What or who was the Word? The implications this had for time and if time was linear, and what it meant that the Word contained life? This revealed the second blessing. Thao is extremely intelligent. She thinks deeply and critically. Her questions are important ones, and after talking with her (her English is great, by the way), we feel like there is not much runoff—she really processes and appreciates what we discuss.
The John 1 conversation led to a conversation about the differences between physical and spiritual life and death, what it means to be separated from God, and how God has conquered death and offers life. But this great advantage of Thao is a great pitfall.
We don’t know how much she differentiates between Christianity and other interesting or foreign intellectual exercises. While we emphasize Christ’s exclusive authority on truth, she has not yet come to the conclusion that his life impacts hers. It is frustrating, but ultimately comforting, that we are not responsible for convicting her of truth. We pray that the Lord will convict her of his truth and his sovereignty in her life. Also, we’re praying that she finds or is found by national believers.
Thao rightly expressed discontentment that our face-to-face conversations about the gospel and her questions happen once a year. Technology is somewhat helpful in extending these conversations, but it is no substitute for a community of Vietnamese Christians who can be a more constant resource. We have taken steps to connect her to long-term workers in Hanoi, but our greatest desire is for nationals to find and disciple nationals. In Hanoi, a city of more than 7.5 million people, there is one government-registered Protestant church and an unknown number of unregistered house churches, so it takes an incredible amount of initiative to find a community of believers. We pray that Thao would become aware and involved in one such community. We know that God is good and delights in making himself known. We thank him that he was in Hanoi before we were and stays behind when we leave, and lets us see a fraction of what he is doing for his glory in southeast Asia.
by Sean Shimmel
Skulls always seem to scare with their grim finality, but upon reflection they also, strangely, foster joy and awe.
‣ As the classic hymn reminds: “…when from death I’m free, I’ll sing and joyful be.” That final sting of time undone at last!
‣ Spanish cellist Pablo Casals escaped into the daily refreshment of “ordered splendour.” As an artist and photographer, the intriguing symmetry of the skull undergirds the endlessly intriguing beauty of the face. Personhood. Beauty. Individuality.