Staying Focused by Pat Cirrincione

I have a confession to make. I think I am slowly losing my brain. No, I don’t have dementia or Alzheimer’s. I have Coviditis. It’s a new condition that began in early March and has been attacking me from all sides. I thought it would go away, disappear, anything but stay attached to my body. In order to keep it at bay I’ve tried various remedies that I would like to share with you.

In our basement I had three tables filled with pictures. These pictures are what I fondly called “my picture project.” Whenever the muse began to talk to me about placing them in order and putting them in photo albums, I would come up with a myriad of reasons to be doing something else, anything but get to work on them before I died and my children would just throw them all out.

Then Coviditis began, and so did the need to complete this project. It has taken six months, but it is just about complete, and I wish I could say that I am doing the happy dance, but instead I am just relieved that my children won’t throw them out.

You may be asking why did it take me that long to finish this project? Well, and here is another confession. I have become addicted to Candy Crush, and so I would find myself sitting at my computer playing this game for hours. I would even get up in the middle of the night and play it! And yes, when I reached my thousandth game, I actually did do the happy dance! I would like to say you should have been with me to celebrate but it wasn’t really a pretty sight, and I won’t go into detail.

The other thing I became addicted to was Solitaire. Again, endless hours spent playing this card game began to make my eyes cross, and I have yet to do a happy dance.

Before you write me off as a hopeless victim of Coviditis, let me give you the good news. I learned how to use ZOOM! I knew you would find that exciting! I knew nothing about ZOOM before March, but soon was attending my Bible study via ZOOM each week, and if that wasn’t exciting enough, before long I was attending church meetings, my Nana Prayer Group, needlepoint group, game day and book discussions via ZOOM! What a delight to be able to connect with people again, I had thought we had all disappeared! We have even been able to attend church each week via our computer. What a blessing that has been.

Not only did my life come back into focus, even my book discussion at the Wade Center went to a blog sight where we could read and answer questions each week, although at one point someone told me I was a curly writer and she was kind enough to explain what I had said to the rest of the group (would that have happened if we had been meeting in person? It just made me smile and I chalked it up to Coviditis.

Wait there’s more. I took a class on Martin Luther offered by Dallas Theological Seminary and found it fascinating, That led to more book buying on Amazon—books by David Jeremiah, Erwin Lutzer, Charles Spurgeon, Amy Carmichael, to name a few.

To help me refocus, I took a three-day class on writing, and realized that I have to let Candy Crush and Solitaire become less important in my daily routine (this might be a problem). Now I have another project to accomplish. I have a file drawer filled with writing ideas that I must peruse and do something about. I must, I repeat, I must stay away from Candy Crush!

Another beautiful thing has been the staff at our church. They have called, sent notes of encouragement and prayed for us. Never underestimate what a phone call or note can do to a victim of Coviditis.

The biggest effect of Coviditis has been on my awareness of God and my daily Bible reading. I’ve gotten through 1 and 2 Kings, 1 and 2 Chronicles, just finished Ezra, read a psalm and a proverb daily. If it weren’t for this book, I do believe that Coviditis would have poured its debilitating effects into my very soul.

It would have left me frightened of what I watch on the news. It would have left me feeling very alone even with my husband in the house. It would have unnerved me in a million ways. However, Coviditis has done none of this, because when I read the Word of God each day I am reminded to “stay strong and courageous,” to rely on God, to turn to him with every thought (small or large, he likes to hear them all), and to know that he is in control and has a plan. I have to say I hope the plan is to rapture his children sometime soon, because the more Coviditis hangs around, the more I long to be in our heavenly home, but I am putting my faith in our Redeemer, and not getting to game 2000 in Candy Crush.

Wounded Peace by Dan Haase

O, wounded heart not healing,

for constant is the sin; 

born of evil wanderings

through the wreckages of war.

The battlements are fallen, 

and strife between your kin, 

cannon fire still sounding

through the wreckages of war.

Though sorrow be your anthem,

and loss your only win, 

in this kingdom of your longings, 

through the wreckages of war.

O, wounded heart not healing,

let the Surgeon in,

whose presence is restoring

the wreckages of war.

Paying It Forward by Pat Cirrincione

For some time now, I have been asking myself why is it so hard to give? Of our finances, our time, our goods, our talent, our friendship? After all, the only reason we have any of these things is because God has given them to us, so why can’t we pay it forward?

Growing up I remember how generous my maternal grandfather was to family and friends. Of course, he did it at the expense of my grandmother’s time because she was the one doing the cooking for meals promised, for watching relative’s children when she was tired from watching her own, of hosting people invited for dinner without being informed. My grandmother never grumbled, and just went along with his wishes. The funniest thing I remember from these moments is not my grandmother complaining, but my grandfather complaining because those same people never gave back to him or my grandmother.

Commitment to God and generous giving are closely related (Exodus 35:21-22). I don’t know if my grandfather understood this concept because we never spoke about what it meant to give according to God. Gramps was a cheerful giver, but his priority was what he received in return! (Matthew 6:3) He didn’t understand the spirit of giving mentioned in Mark 12:41-44, about being a generous and sacrificial giver.

Genesis 4:3-5 speaks about the quality of what we offer when we give to God and others. Our giving should be done with a joyful heart because of what we cangive. We should not be worrying about how much we are giving up, for all things are God’s in the first place.

I’ve been reading the book Heaven by Randy Alcorn, and I wish this book had been around for my gramps to read. He would have seen how much God has given us: life, community, fellowship, friendship, all rooted in the triune God himself. All of this came at a price (1 Corinthians 6:20). As Randy Alcorn says: “…the price was important, the shed blood of God’s Son, Jesus Christ”.

If Gramps were alive, I would share this thought with him: “If you are giving just to receive back it will never happen. Do good, hope for nothing in return and your reward will be great.” (Luke 6:35)

God has given us so much. In his book Heaven, Randy Alcorn gives us a biblical vocabulary on these gifts: redeemed, restored, reclaim, recover, return, regenerate, resurrect. Randy states that “renewal means to make new again or restore to an original state. Resurrection means becoming physically alive again, after death. God gave us another chance in Christ”.

Continuing in my quote from Randy:

“Jesus restored people to health, life and freedom from demonic possession.

By faith, through grace (another powerful gift), God is going to restore nature, making our world whole once more.

Just think what God is going to give us: a renewed humanity who will live on a new earth, in the presence of their resurrected Savior!!

God gave His life for our future and the earth’s.”

My grandmother knew how to give, and she never complained, nor did she expect anything in return, and because of this she had great peace, and people always treated her with great kindness and love. My grandfather was always grumbling about people’s selfishness. But it was my grandmother who restored people to health and happiness with her loving kindness.

If you have a “Gramps” in your family, would you please share this with him? Let him know it is far better to give, then to receive. All you need to do is point him to Jesus who has paid it all.

In Search of NEOWISE by Susan Zimmerman

I really wanted to see the comet. The New York Times article made it clear I should scan the heavens now, not later. “Enjoy it while you can. The frozen ball of ice won’t return to the inner solar system for 6,800 years.” [“Comet NEOWISE: How to See It in Night Skies,” The New York Times, July 15, 2020] 

The image headlining the article was glorious. NEOWISE (NASA’s Near-Earth Object Wide-field Infrared Survey Explorer) was shown plunging toward the horizon in a long-tailed fireball over Mount Washington near Springfield, Oregon.

But the inspiring photo implied a warning―my chances of seeing NEOWISE were not good. The grand starry carpet of skies over the purplish outline of mountains announced, “No light pollution here.” Wheaton, Illinois is not Springfield, Oregon, or Montlucon, France, or the Colorado National Monument—places where photos showcased NEOWISE against a vast dark sky.

Nevertheless, the article was encouraging to suburban dwellers like me. “NEOWISE . . . has even been spotted by people living near city centers with all the light pollution.” Per a Harvard & Smithsonian Center astronomer, “You can watch it from your backyard and you don’t need a telescope.”

Supposedly you could even take a cellphone photo of this comet. “Try framing NEOWISE against a nice background such as a tree,” helpfully suggested another astronomer.

My husband is always framing cellphone photos against a tree. On the evening of July 22, I convinced him we needed to try to see NEOWISE. We grabbed our binoculars and followed the article’s instructions: Wait until an hour and a half after sunset. Look to the northwest. Find the Big Dipper and follow its ladle toward the horizon. “NEOWISE will appear [!] under the Big Dipper about 10 degrees above the horizon.”

We hedged on one instruction: go to the darkest area possible. Our viewing site was our backyard, reasonably dark for Wheaton, but nothing like the dark sky over a mountain. We scanned, we searched, we focused and refocused the binoculars. After 45 minutes or so, we thought we had seen a few blurry stars that might have been moving, but no NEOWISE.

It had been a partly cloudy night, I reasoned. And the article said the comet would make its closest approach to Earth on July 23. My husband agreed we should try again.

The evening of July 23 was beautiful, with a clear dark sky. We returned to our backyard, this time adjusting our position for a cleaner view of the horizon. Again, we trained our binoculars on the night sky, searching for the brilliant fusion of gas and dust that had traveled from the outer reaches of the solar system.

We didn’t see NEOWISE.

Friday, July 24, was another lovely evening. Warm, not humid. Clear sky. We decided to search for NEOWISE one more time, but at a new location, the empty soccer fields at the front of Seven Gables Park. We parked in the front lot shortly before sunset. A few cars were parked far to our left; were others also watching for the comet? The sun set in a quiet orange and pink glow. The sky slowly darkened, and stars began to come out.

We stayed in the park a long time that evening, watching and waiting for a coveted glimpse of NEOWISE. But that night, not even a clear sky, an empty field, or its near approach to earth brought NEOWISE before our eyes. We didn’t “find” the comet, though of course it was there, a ball of ice streaking near earth through a sky where most likely you did need inky darkness and a decent telescope to see its bright display.

Though we didn’t see NEOWISE, the nights of star gazing offered something else.

As we sat in the dark looking up for something we never saw, we recalled a time years ago during a family camping vacation to Wisconsin with our two children when we did see celestial magnificence. The four of us had headed to a tiny boat landing well after dark, hoping to see a mass of stars, and God instead treated us to an unexpected shower of northern lights. On this night in the disquieting summer of 2020 we had hoped for similar drama from a comet, but our heavenly Father still used the quiet interlude for his purposes.

The NYT article concluded with a suggestion from the astronomer who was the principal investigator of NEOWISE: “Things are really tough right now for lots of people,” said Dr. Amy Mainzer. “But this is a chance to look up and reconnect with the big picture stuff.”

I’m not sure how this particular astronomer defines “big picture stuff” but for me and my husband those July evenings spent searching for a comet became a time to not only look up, but to look beyond to the Creator, and then especially to look in, inside God’s Word for reminders of who is the One who created and sustains not only comets, but all heaven and earth.

Isaiah 40:25-28 says, “To who then will you compare me, that I should be like him? says the Holy One. Lift up your eyes on high and see: who created these? He who brings out their host by number, calling them all by name; by the greatness of his might and because he is strong in power, not one is missing. Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the LORD, and my right is disregarded by my God?” Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.” 

God knows exactly where NEOWISE is. Perhaps he has even given it a name, hopefully one less wonky and cumbersome than the one chosen by NASA. But more importantly he knows where I am. Where my husband is. Where all of his children are during this strange and yes, tough time. Our way is not hidden from him, and he who “does not faint or grow weary”, he the One of unsearchable understanding, is fully able to sustain us.

Undeserved by John Maust

“I have a dollar bill that I’m going to give to one of you,” Mr. Sechrist told us kids, suddenly alert, at summer vacation Bible School.

This was nearly 60 years ago, a time when five cents could get you a soft drink at the local soda fountain, a pack of baseball cards, or candy at the movie theater, a time when a dollar meant something to a bunch of sweaty kids attending Bible school in little Nappanee, Indiana.

We wanted that dollar, badly. But who would be the lucky one to receive it?

Dick Sechrist, a retired mail carrier, had an astounding knowledge of Scripture. When our pastor sometimes began Sunday evening services with a few Bible quiz questions for the congregation, we rolled our eyes knowing that Dick would be first with all the right answers. Yet even with all that knowledge, he knew how to teach the Bible in ways that kids could understand.

“Who really wants this dollar?” Mr. Sechrist asked us. Arms waved wildly like trees in a tornado.

“Me! Me! Me!” all voices said.

“But who do you think I should give it to?” Mr. Sechrist said. It looked like the greenest, crispest dollar we had ever seen.

“Me! Me! Me!” everyone cried again.

Mr. Sechrist didn’t say anything for a moment, which seemed like hours. He looked around the room, a smile at the corners of his mouth.

“Larry!” our teacher said. “Please come up here.”

Larry vaulted from his desk and approached Mr. Sechrist, who handed him the dollar bill just like that, no questions asked.

How was this possible? What did Larry do to deserve this? Surely, one of us deserved it more. Larry beamed and held the bill high running back to his seat. You can imagine the looks that he got, and none of them were friendly.

It took awhile for Mr. Sechrist to restore our attention. But when he did, he proceeded to explain that the dollar for Larry was simply a gift, no strings attached and for no merit of Larry’s.

In the same way, salvation in Christ was a gift, he said. We couldn’t earn it, just as we couldn’t earn that dollar now scrunched in Larry’s pocket. It was all grace, nothing that we deserved.

Then Mr. Sechrist read to us a passage from the Bible, most likely in the King James: “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God.”

He let us think about that for a while, and then explained that we could pray with him to invite Jesus into our hearts at any time. I don’t recall that anyone did at that moment, but Mr. Sechrist’s illustration certainly stuck in our minds—in my case, for the past six decades.

I thank God for Mr. Sechrist’s  teaching and for graphically introducing me to this amazing and liberating truth: eternal life in Christ is entirely a gift from God, not the result of anything we could ever possibly do to earn it.

Stay Safe

Lorraine Triggs muses briefly about an entry from Prayers for Every Occasion by Ellen Elwell.

"Stay safe" is the new “take care.” I have hopes it might replace “have a good one” in the national vocabulary, but I’m not counting on that.

That desire to stay safe and to secure our future is a long-standing trend, not a new cultural phenomenon. We invest, we plan, we work, we vote as if everything depends on us. What a relief and rest to know that our safety and security is in another’s loving and kind hands.

Ellen Elwell captures this well in the entry “Priorities.” Read the psalm, read Ellen’s prayer, rest today, stay safe, be secure in God.

Priorities

Psalm 39:4-7 (NLT)

Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be.

Remind me that my days are numbered—

how fleeting my life is.

You have made my life no longer than

The width of my hand.

My entire lifetime is just a moment to you;

at best each of us is but a breath.

We are merely moving shadows,

and all our busy rushing ends in nothing.

We heap up wealth,

not knowing who will spend it.

And so, Lord, where do I put my hope?

My only hope is in you.

God, you live in eternity, and it’s hard for us to get our minds around that. In comparison to you, our lives seem like meteors that pass quickly through the sky. Even if we saved millions of dollars during our short lifetime, we couldn’t take a penny of it with us when we die. What we can take with us is our relationship with you. Though we shouldn’t put our hope in time or money, we’re safe to put our hope in you, God. Thank you that you are the same yesterday, today and forever.

House Hunting by Wil Triggs

These days, Lorraine and I have developed a new kind of interest in the grocery store. It’s not about the sale items or the seasonally fresh selections we sometimes can’t resist. It’s not about the people who work there, though that’s another story. No, this interest has to do with people we might see there.

It started back in April when we hadn’t seen anyone in what seemed like forever. It had just been a few weeks then. One day we saw Micah in the Jewel.

She was so excited she let out a little scream of a hello. Really, she just said hi. Lorraine answered her. Well, you knew they were excited. You could tell they were doing one of those hugging things that really wasn’t a hug at all. They didn’t even touch, social distancing and all, but they managed to express how happy they were to see each other. Even with masks on. No touch. You could just tell.

That was the beginning, but it keeps happening. So now we’re always looking for people at the store—it’s like a bonus. Besides food to feed our bodies, there’s always the chance we will see someone we used to see most every week. It's sort of a tonic for the heart to see these people.

Just yesterday we saw Di in the pasta aisle at Caputo's.

But it’s not just at the grocery stores. It’s starting to happen in other places.

Think of Lucy spotting Mr. Tumnus at the lamppost in a strange always-winter land or eating a delicious meal with Mr. and Mrs. Beaver in their lodge. It’s that kind of warm sense of wonder, for just a few sweet seconds at a time, and then we move on to whatever is next.

I look around at the people pumping gas next to me at the station. Hardware and home improvement stores also make for happy hunting when it comes to finding long-lost relatives who aren’t really lost and aren’t nearly as distant as they seem right now.

Last week Brandon waved at me across the parking lot, and I waved back as we drove away. It was a hat trick of sorts at Costco, just a week ago, where we got to see Evelyn, Becky and Roger in a single visit. They all looked great.

Sunday night I saw Bill at the baptism service. He was so happy to see me and everyone else. It was like waking from a sort of dazed dream to see, yes, all these people, still here after these months. And it was just a moment of joy, simple and kind of amazing. Like a little summer firefly at twilight, the light glowing naturally for a few seconds and moving on, then raising itself again and giving another summer green glow.

This week I got to talk to Jim and Patte. Granted, this was on Zoom, but I got to hear their voices. They’re still there with all the insights and challenging thoughts and open prayer requests and the desire to talk about poetry together.

Tuesday, I got to see Wendell, which seemed miraculous. I walked out of the church office and there he was, standing on the right side of the plexiglass by Lorraine’s reception area. We said hello, and he spoke in the life-affirming way that he always does. And I was lifted up. There’s nothing quite like shaking Wendell’s hand. And we used to do that normal, everyday greeting almost every Sunday. So just seeing him now, well, that was more than swell.

We used to see all these people and more, Sunday after Sunday. and it was just the way it was. Now, though, I think we realize what a true treasure our gathering is, or was, and will be.

I need to tell you a secret.

All these people and me and the others—we all live in the same house. We’re used to seeing each other all the time. Different rooms, one home. It’s a great house. But we aren’t exactly there right now. Not quite.

We love that house. I especially love working with other people on lifelong renovation projects or brainstorming ways to add on to the house. Or a group of us get creative and change out the color of a wall or plant spring bulbs in the fall to see the burst of color in the spring. Sometimes it’s great to just sit in that house and share a meal or pray and talk about life together.

But our big loveable house seems to have moved somewhere we can’t quite find. Like Dorothy’s house that the tornado picks up and takes on a technicolor journey, it eventually will land back where it started. This crazy movie of flying monkeys and lions, scarecrows, witches and tin men who will really turn out to be people around town, people who live in the same house with me. The ones we bump into wherever.

This house we’re longing for—not everyone has that abode.

There’s always room for more in ours. Because, after all, the house is us. Handcrafted by Christ, we are the house. What a gift of grace it is to walk this life together. To hear God’s Word and see it come to life in and through us. Even in this crazy pandemic time, though distanced and masked, we live it and share it together. Maybe not in the pew, but in the dairy aisle of the grocery store or by the light bulbs in the hardware store or pumping regular gas in the tank this week. Little moments of home along the way.

So, look for me or another one of us when you’re out on an errand today. And let's make room for more.

Even the sparrow finds a home,
    and the swallow a nest for herself,
    where she may lay her young,
at your altars, O Lord of hosts,
    my King and my God.
Blessed are those who dwell in your house,
    ever singing your praise! 
Psalm 84:3-4

Check Out Lane by Lorraine Triggs

In the last four months, the 30 or so Kindergartners in Bible school became first-graders without us. We never told the story of Hudson Taylor or marched and waved palm branches through the preschool hallway on Palm Sunday. We missed seeing the wonder on the children’s faces when they heard that Jesus is alive. No one attended the end of the year party, and the Kindergarten room has been uncharacteristically tidy.

This probably explains why I noticed the young shopper at Caputo’s pushing her shopper-in-training cart around. The little one was just about the right age for some Kindergartner antics. She didn’t disappoint.

For a while, she happily trailed her mother down the aisles until, right there in front of her was the eye-catching, mouth-watering display of bright orange Utz Baked Cheddar Cheese Balls in big, round tubs with bright blue lids.

What was a shopper-in-training to do? She reached for a tub, hugged it close to her chest and dropped into the cart, clearly pleased with her single purchase that filled the entire cart.

Her mother came up behind her and simply shook her head at her daughter’s cart but didn’t tell her to put it back.

“Those cheese balls aren’t going to make it to check out,” I commented to my husband as we pushed our cart to the checkout lanes. “Her mama isn’t going to let that happen.”

We reached the checkout lanes at the same time, and I couldn’t resist telling the mom what a good mama she was and how much I enjoyed watching her daughter grocery shop.

Sure enough, no cheese balls left Caputo’s.

I wish I had the same assurance as I fill my cart with what I think I need. Maybe that pint of greed won’t make it to the checkout lane today. Unfortunately, greed not only makes it to the checkout lane but also into the plastic bag and all the way home.

Even though I pass on today’s special on gossip, I can’t resist the two-for-one deal of complaining and discontent. I like bargains as much as the next person, but as soon as I spot pride in its original packaging, I don’t count the cost and carefully place two or three or more packages in the cart.

Perhaps that’s the problem. I don’t count the cost, which becomes apparent as I rummage through the clutter in my life. What am I going to do with another jar of greed on the shelf? No worries, I’ll think of something. What’s this bottle of selfishness doing way back there? It’s way past its sell-by date. It still might be good. I’ll set it aside for whenever I might need it.

That creates a whole new problem according to Colossians 3:8-9, "But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices."

Sins aren’t to be set aside for future use; they’re to be “put to death” and “put off.” Don’t take on the burden of sin. Jesus has already done that for us. I can take that bottle of selfishness or carton of sour ungratefulness straight to the trash bin—not to earn extra grace points with God, but to live out the graced life I already have in Christ.

As the clutter from sin shrinks, it frees up space for compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience and forgiveness. All I need for my daily bread here and the feast to come.