The Way of Wisdom

I am not a young chick anymore – I’m nearing #62 at the end of the year. I know some of you are well ahead of me, but this number has really caught my attention. What have I done with those 62 years? Did I do anything I set out to do with my life? The truth is, I didn’t know what I wanted to do for a very long time. I thought life would just unfold before me and the choices would make themselves. I never knew that my life had a purpose. I wish someone had told me that when I was younger. It would have changed everything for me. What I studied in school, the people I hung out with, and especially the choices I made. You can bet I will tell my granddaughter.

I came across Moses’ Psalm and one verse, in particular, that is highlighted in my Bible. “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). Wisdom. I’ve been told that I am wise (that’s a shock to me!). I wish I could say it was because I numbered my days and carefully evaluated my life with every decision. The truth is, any wisdom I’ve gained has come through blood, sweat, and tears (No not, the 60’s rock group). It has come with scars and pain. I often quote my mom who said: “Bought lessons stay with you longer than taught lessons.” I have paid dearly for any small measure of wisdom I have. But I’ve learned some valuable life lessons this way. I’ve learned there are some things that I don’t want to ever do again because the cost was way too high. If that’s wisdom then, I guess I am wise.

Maybe you, like me, look back over years of mistakes and failures and self-destructive behavior. We did more wrong than we did right. We made some truly bad choices. But here’s a choice we can make today that can affect the poor choices of the past. We can wise up. If we wallow in our misery then we learned nothing from it. But if those hard lessons brought about good changes and especially brought us to the cross of Christ, then we’ve invested well.

Here’s where I hang my hope: God can take every mistake I’ve made, every failure, and every sin and teach me more than I could learn in scholarly books and classrooms. And they become common ground to reach out to other mistake-prone souls. Beloved, will you put your mistakes and scars in the hands of your good and loving Father? They tell a powerful story the world needs to hear.

Do It Anyway

Eric Liddell served as a missionary in China
and died in a Japanese internment camp at age 43.

Yesterday I wrote about how Moses (and I) argued with God about his qualifications for service. God said, “I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt” (Ex 3:10). Moses replied, “Who am I that I should go to Pharoah and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” (v. 11). And God says something akin to, “It doesn’t matter who you are because I will be with you” (v. 12, paraphrased). Now that should have been enough to stop all of Moses’ arguments, but it isn’t. He said, “What if they don’t believe me?” (4:1). And God empowered him to do signs that validate his message. “But, Lord, I’m not an eloquent speaker – I stutter” (v. 10) To which God says, “I know. I put that tongue in your mouth. But I’m going to help you and teach you what to say and how to say it” (vs. 11-12, paraphrased).

Every time I read this passage I am reminded of when God called me to teach His Word. I was terrified. I hate being the center of attention, probably because as a kid anytime my peers noticed me it was to pick on and bully me. I learned to stay as quiet as possible and even wore drab colors so I didn’t stand out. No Lord, do not put me in front of a group of people. The last time that happened – in Mrs. Faust’s 6th grade English class – I wet my pants. In front of the whole class. Someone reminded me of that when we lined up for our high school graduation.

I said, “I’m a middle-aged woman from the deep south. Nobody’s going to listen to me.” And God said, “I know who you are and how old you are. I also know you love to talk. I made you a chatterbox for a reason. I will be with you. I will help you. I will train you. I will speak through you.” And He has been faithful to His promise. His calling is my Joy.

Eric Liddell, the Scottish Olympic runner and devout Christian once said, “God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.” God gave me a love for words and when I write and teach, I feel His pleasure. I don’t know what He has called you to do, but I’ll bet it scares you. And it should – because it’s a God-sized calling. But do it anyway because He will be with you every step of the way. And when you do Beloved, you will feel His pleasure.

These Gray-Hair Years

I stopped coloring my hair about two years ago. The copper penny red has given way to a silvery-gray and now I look more my age. Why am I talking about my hair color? I’ve been reading and meditating on the Psalms this morning and a few verses have caught my attention.

From Psalm 71: “You have been my hope, O Sovereign Lord, my confidence since my youth” “You have taught me, and to this day I declare Your marvelous deeds” (vs. 5, 17). I grew up in church – most of us southern kids of the sixties did. It was the culture of our time and place. In summer we went to every Vacation Bible School in town. Churches staggered their VBS dates so moms could have some much-needed breaks while we were out of school. I loved it all. And I learned things. Things that have stuck with me to this day. Like how to make a paper-mache globe (“He’s got the whole world in His hands”) and coconut cookies do not taste good dunked in orange Koolaid. And of course, I learned all the Bible stories. And most of all – that Jesus loves me.

But I grew out of Sunday School and VBS. We moved to Germany and church on base was not the same as in my little hometown. I went a few times at first then drifted away. By senior high school, church was a distant memory. In my early adult years, it was not even on my radar. Except for this little faint voice whispering: “Jesus loves me.”

Now I nod my head as I read verses about being old and gray. The psalmist pleads with God not to cast him away and forget him – “till I declare Your power to the next generation, Your might to all who are to come.” So do I. I prayed this morning “I want these silver-haired years to count for Your kingdom Lord. I want to make an impact on this world that will outlive me.” Especially in my granddaughter’s life. Then the Spirit sent me to Psalm 92 and these precious words. “They will still bear fruit in old age . . .” (v. 14). For all of us gray-hairs (even underneath the dye) God is far from done with us. There is a whole world of opportunity for us to serve the Kingdom. Beloved, the next generation needs to know “Jesus loves me.”