The Gospel of John

Tomorrow my Tuesday Bible study group will begin studying the Gospel of John. I can hardly wait. We don't meet in the summer and three months is too long without these friends. It will be enlightening to explore the Gospel of John with these women. My favorite gospel account? Why the one I'm reading right now, of course. I love that God gave us four remembrances of Jesus' life on earth. The differences in the gospel accounts keeps the good news fresh and exciting. If you want a fresh perspective on the gospels, I recommend Four Gospels, One Jesus: A Symbolic Reading by Richard Burridge.

New School Year Begins

The end of August and the start of classes is just around the corner. Convocation is Sunday and I'm looking forward to the start of classes on Wednesday. It will be great to see students in the halls, in the library, sharing lunch in the student commons, attending chapel. Students bring the mission of Austin Graduate School of Theology to life. They remind me that I play a part in promoting the knowledge, understanding, and practice of the Christian faith as the school equips Christians and churches for service in the kingdom of God. I can hardly wait to see what God does this year at Austin Grad. I pray I will be attentive to the opportunities he sets before me and that every student will see Jesus in me.

Grateful

For the past three weeks I have been in a cumbersome knee brace, hobbling around at half speed. Recently, in a effort to ease the strain on my "good" knee, I began using a cane. While the knee brace is relatively unobtrusive under slacks, the cane cannot be hidden. As a result, I have repeated the story of my clumsiness and the resulting list of ligament tears and bruises numerous times. I always end my recital with the statement that it could be much worse. Truly it could. In 1977, I missed a step and broke my right ankle in three places. After surgery I had nine weeks during which I could not put my right foot on the ground. That was nine weeks in a wheelchair or on crutches, pregnant and with a four year old in tow. That round of fun and games was followed by three weeks in a walking cast. So, it could be worse. Truly it could. I could be on crutches or in a wheelchair permanently. It could be much worse. Truly it could. It might not be me. It might be Bill, or Ryan or Brandon. Yes, it could be so much worse. Thank you Lord for this minor trial. May I count it pure joy.

Something to Ponder

Most of us recognize the difference between good and evil and choose the good. But how often do we recognize the difference between what is good and what is better or what is best? Which one do you consistently choose?

Mountains Aren't the Problem

It is a new year and a time to set new goals. Not being especially ambitious I have limited myself to one goal at a time. The current goal: get all the laundry done. After the holidays there are mountains of tablecloths, napkins, sheets and towels piled in the laundry room, Naturally this is in addition to the usual dirty clothes that accumulate over the course of a week. This is a simple but worthy goal. When all the laundry is done I plan to clean the laundry room closet and pass on the things we no longer use. My laundry efforts are paying off; the mountains are shrinking to manageable proportions. Sheets and towels for the ranch are clean and neatly folded, ready for transport back to Cisco. The last couple of tablecloths are in the washer and the final sheets are tumbling dry. The floor is finally clear and now I can see the basket. This is the laondry basket that always stands between me and a perfectly clean laundry room. This basket is never empty. It doesn't hold a mountain of laundry. Instead, it is full of hills--items that are too small to make a load, items that fade and must be washed separately. These clothes don't get washed very often. They spend most of their time in the basket and all of the laundry never gets done. Sometimes it is not the mountain but the hill that is our biggest obstacle.

Exaggerated Rumors

As Mark Twain once quipped, the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I was grateful to realize that it hasn't been quite a year since my last posting--almost but not quite. I have dear friends, among them Allan Stanglin, who post faithfully. In contrast, I intend faithfully. At least once or twice a month I intend to post my latest wandering thoughts but something always overrides my intention. Generally, something meaningless--such as my wandering thoughts. Oh well, it is a new year and a time for new intentions. Anyone taking wagers on how long it will be before my next posting?

The Gift

Sunday, the man who delivered the communion devotional spoke of Christ's gift to us on the cross. At one point he asked us to imagine opening that gift with its pretty wrapping and beautiful bow. I couldn't do it, I couldn't see the gift with fancy paper and an elaborate bow.

All I could see was a humble cardboard box, tied with simple twine. The box was scarred from the sting of the whip, spattered with blood dripping from the crown of thorns. The twine was frayed and stained from a life or service to others. This great gift of salvation and new life did not come in a beautiful package. It came in a man without the trappings of beauty or majesty. Nothing in the appearance of the package was designed to attract me. Instead the package was designed to reveal the nature of God who loved all people so much that he abandoned his throne in heaven to live a sacrifical cross-focused life on this earth.

That gift in the humble cardboard box calls me to follow Jesus' example. It calls me to live in confidence that my future is secure, to trust God that one day I will live with him in glory. It calls me to share Jesus' good news, love, and compassion with my fellow human beings. It calls me to live a humble "cardboard box" life

How do you see Christ's precious gift?