As I sit on the beach with very few people in sight, listening to an arrangement of Ravel's Bolero (can life get much better?) my mind wanders to football (bowl time) and life.
I am neither a student of music nor of football, so please excuse my rudimentary explanations. If you are unfamiliar with Bolero, think of Bo Derek and Dudley Moore in the movie "10." That's the music. Throughout the entire piece the percussion section, drums in particular, keep a constant rhythm going. This is quite amazing to someone who finds it a stretch to manage five claps in rhythm during "At the Name of Jesus." As the music progresses, various sections, brass, woodwinds, strings are showcased, and in the particular arrangement to which I am listening, there are solo performances as well. The music crescendos until one wants to just get up and twirl in circles, but I will certainly refrain so as not to dismay the few people who can see me.
Now, think of a football game. Certainly, it has been a stellar NCAA bowl season with many games going into multiple overtimes. The offensive line is like that percussion section in Bolero. If done well, it is constant and made up of unsung heores. Their whole purpose is to protect their quarterback. Without them, as with those drums in Bolero, the whole thing would fall apart.
I think of the defensive line as the horns in the music. They play along and then just as the music swells and the horns are featured, someone breaks through the line and the quarterback is sacked. A good sacking is my favorite play of any football game, well, unless it's my quarterback getting sacked. I realize at this juncture that my analogy falls apart a bit, but it's just a blog. I ain't no Pulitzer Prize winner.
The soloists in football are the quarterback, the place kickers, and outstanding running backs. They stand out. They make the game more exciting. But, without their "support cast," there would be no reason.
Life is a close parallel to Bolero and football. Some of us are offensive linesmen or percussionists. We are not the ones who, for instance, run the 60 miles. We are the ones who stand ready with dry shirts, orange juice, bad burgers, and words of encouragement. Some of us are defensive linesmen or 4th chairs in the woodwinds section. We do not run the 60 miles but we run 5 or 8 or 17 miles in supposrt. We help to move the music or the game along. And, then there are those who do run the 60 miles. They are the soloists or the quarterbacks. They bring the excitement.
Unlike Bolero or football teams, life generally offers the opportunity at some point or other to play all the parts...different ones at different times for different people. It takes us all. How perfect is that?
So for today, I wish you the steadfastness of a percussionist, satisfaction on the offensive line, accolades for a job well done, and I wish you
blessings
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Praying for Strangers
Several months ago, I read a book entitled Praying for Strangers. It was written by a woman named Jordan River (seriously, that's her real name), a relatively new Nashvillian. It tells of her new year's resolution, prompted by, she believes (as do I), the Holy Spirit, to pray for a stranger every day for a year. Sometimes she would tell the person she was praying for them, and other times she just prayed anonymously for them. If you are a believer in prayer and a God who listens, I highly recommend the book.
I have most of my adult life prayed for strangers, but not in a committed way as Ms. Jordan. My prayers for strangers generally come when I hear the siren of an ambulance, and I ask the Lord to take care of whomever is being rescued...may they be neither seriously ill nor seriously injured.
I was reminded of the book on December 26 as I waited at Cracker Barrel to meet a friend for breakfast. There were not many people in the restaurant, but had it been overflowing, the couple across the room would have been noticed. They were about my age, and they were suffering. It was obvious in their body language as they restlessly held hands across the table. They talked quietly, and then, still holding hands they both stared off into middle space, the anguish on their faces undeniable. Because the only people in my life who can bring me such agony in their own pain are my children, I assumed this couple was walking down a dark road with or for a child. I did not ask. I think I did not want to know. But, I did pray for them.
Riding in a car for almost 9 hours, gives one a chance to think...a lot. Well, I was thinking between cat naps. Mr. Lincoln did all the driving. I think he does that, mainly, because he is always in fear when I drive. Do not tell him that I said the feeling is often mutual. Wow, does he ever camp out in the left lane. But, I digress.
So, on my ride Saturday, I was prompted to pray for several different people. My prayers began when we passed the signs (billboards prompt many prayers) advertising "Strippers...we bare all." I found myself praying for the girls who work in those establishments. They were some one's tiny newborn, hopefully, the apple of their parents' eyes. I wondered what had happened to them to feel that stripping was their only recourse, for I do not believe any woman does that for "fun." I figured there was no way they had a dad like mine who made them feel valued and important. I prayed for them. I do not know them, but I know that God knows them by name. He knows how many hairs are on their heads. He dearly loves each and every one of them.
Then I prayed for the men who frequent those establishments. Where is the disconnect in their lives that causes them to be content with objectifying women? What happened in their lives to cause them to think so poorly of females? Perhaps, neither did they have a father like mine to display how a gentleman treats a woman. I prayed for their wives. I prayed for the wives that have not a clue that their husbands go to Cafe Risque. I prayed for the wives who suspect that their husbands engage in such conduct, and who try so desperately to not know what they know. I prayed for the wives who know and have accepted their husbands' behavior. But, what I do know, is God loves every one of them. I wonder if they have other people who have prayed for them today.
I prayed for the Clemson fan who was obviously in a hurry to get to Miami for the Orange Bowl. She did not appreciate Mr. Lincoln's camping out in the fast lane. She gave us a really dirty look. I prayed that she would survive her trip. I did not pray that she would be stopped by one of the many highway patrolmen we saw. I did not pray that she got a ticket, but I would not have been disappointed if that had been the route God chose to protect her. I mean she was driving like a bat out of you know where...South Carolina, I guess.
Nothing says come join our church and learn of the loving God we worship and the gracious Jesus we serve like the billboard that says, "Homosexuality is an Abomination ~ God.....the Bluegrass Church of Christ." Makes you want to go there huh? I prayed for that church. And, this is not a commentary on homosexuality, the causes of it - nature or nurture, the rightness or wrongness of it. I'm just saying that if a church does believe that homosexuality is a sin, and people need to repent and turn from it, that is no way to accomplish its goal. Also, if you are a heterosexual person who has never struggled with homosexual thoughts or tendencies, I am truly not interested in what you have to say. I do not mean that to sound hateful. It is just I have been that person who thinks she has answers to others' problems....problems with which I have never struggled, and, frankly, except to show a person love, and the love of God, any other words of "wisdom" I might offer are just hogwash. But, I will pray for the members of the Bluegrass Church of Christ in South Georgia. And, you can bet I will pray for every homosexual person who reads that billboard. I will pray that God sends someone to speak a word of love or grace into their lives, because if there is anything I know, it is that God loves them...he bothers to know the number of hairs on their heads. And, that goes for the Bluegrass Church of Christers too. Praise God, literally.
We arrived at our hotel in Gainsville just as a mom, grandmother, and 2 children arrived. The mom was exhausted and harried. When she opened the car door, I could hear the whining, bordering on screaming, of the younger child. The mom screamed at the older girl that she was going to bed EARLY. The little girl was distraught and began to wail. I prayed for all 4 people in that car. Everyone seemed to be a their wits' end. I saw the results of my prayer quite quickly, for as I entered the lobby, the little girl was sitting on a luggage cart joyfully enjoying a cookie provided by the desk clerk. She smiled at me and said hello. I smiled back. I then smiled at the mom who had calmed down considerably, and I felt confident that their day was about to improve. Thank you, Lord for small mercies such as an unexpected cookie and a place to rest.
There were other strangers who received passing prayers on their behalfs such as Cody, whose name was on a car window with the plea "pray for Cody." Isn't it marvelous that I do not need to know Cody's last name or his situatiion because the Father does? I prayed for the family who had a flat tire on the side of the road and who had to empty the back of their SUV to get to the spare tire. We might have stopped to help had we thought we could have been of any assistance, but we would have only been a hindrance I am sure. Neither Mr. Lincoln nor I are very adept at the tire changing experience.
I have not made praying for a stranger every day a new year's resolution. It would probably just go the way of my weight loss plan...30 pounds in 30 days, something that big cinnamon roll I just had is not helping. But, I will try to be aware when the Holy Spirit whispers that someone needs my prayers, and I will offer up a petition to the Father I am convinced is listening and attending to us all, even, maybe especially, at the times we are least aware of His presence.
So for today, I wish you a stranger to pray for, a stranger praying for you, belief in the power of prayer, a constant awareness of the Father's presence in your life, and I wish you
blessings
I have most of my adult life prayed for strangers, but not in a committed way as Ms. Jordan. My prayers for strangers generally come when I hear the siren of an ambulance, and I ask the Lord to take care of whomever is being rescued...may they be neither seriously ill nor seriously injured.
I was reminded of the book on December 26 as I waited at Cracker Barrel to meet a friend for breakfast. There were not many people in the restaurant, but had it been overflowing, the couple across the room would have been noticed. They were about my age, and they were suffering. It was obvious in their body language as they restlessly held hands across the table. They talked quietly, and then, still holding hands they both stared off into middle space, the anguish on their faces undeniable. Because the only people in my life who can bring me such agony in their own pain are my children, I assumed this couple was walking down a dark road with or for a child. I did not ask. I think I did not want to know. But, I did pray for them.
Riding in a car for almost 9 hours, gives one a chance to think...a lot. Well, I was thinking between cat naps. Mr. Lincoln did all the driving. I think he does that, mainly, because he is always in fear when I drive. Do not tell him that I said the feeling is often mutual. Wow, does he ever camp out in the left lane. But, I digress.
So, on my ride Saturday, I was prompted to pray for several different people. My prayers began when we passed the signs (billboards prompt many prayers) advertising "Strippers...we bare all." I found myself praying for the girls who work in those establishments. They were some one's tiny newborn, hopefully, the apple of their parents' eyes. I wondered what had happened to them to feel that stripping was their only recourse, for I do not believe any woman does that for "fun." I figured there was no way they had a dad like mine who made them feel valued and important. I prayed for them. I do not know them, but I know that God knows them by name. He knows how many hairs are on their heads. He dearly loves each and every one of them.
Then I prayed for the men who frequent those establishments. Where is the disconnect in their lives that causes them to be content with objectifying women? What happened in their lives to cause them to think so poorly of females? Perhaps, neither did they have a father like mine to display how a gentleman treats a woman. I prayed for their wives. I prayed for the wives that have not a clue that their husbands go to Cafe Risque. I prayed for the wives who suspect that their husbands engage in such conduct, and who try so desperately to not know what they know. I prayed for the wives who know and have accepted their husbands' behavior. But, what I do know, is God loves every one of them. I wonder if they have other people who have prayed for them today.
I prayed for the Clemson fan who was obviously in a hurry to get to Miami for the Orange Bowl. She did not appreciate Mr. Lincoln's camping out in the fast lane. She gave us a really dirty look. I prayed that she would survive her trip. I did not pray that she would be stopped by one of the many highway patrolmen we saw. I did not pray that she got a ticket, but I would not have been disappointed if that had been the route God chose to protect her. I mean she was driving like a bat out of you know where...South Carolina, I guess.
Nothing says come join our church and learn of the loving God we worship and the gracious Jesus we serve like the billboard that says, "Homosexuality is an Abomination ~ God.....the Bluegrass Church of Christ." Makes you want to go there huh? I prayed for that church. And, this is not a commentary on homosexuality, the causes of it - nature or nurture, the rightness or wrongness of it. I'm just saying that if a church does believe that homosexuality is a sin, and people need to repent and turn from it, that is no way to accomplish its goal. Also, if you are a heterosexual person who has never struggled with homosexual thoughts or tendencies, I am truly not interested in what you have to say. I do not mean that to sound hateful. It is just I have been that person who thinks she has answers to others' problems....problems with which I have never struggled, and, frankly, except to show a person love, and the love of God, any other words of "wisdom" I might offer are just hogwash. But, I will pray for the members of the Bluegrass Church of Christ in South Georgia. And, you can bet I will pray for every homosexual person who reads that billboard. I will pray that God sends someone to speak a word of love or grace into their lives, because if there is anything I know, it is that God loves them...he bothers to know the number of hairs on their heads. And, that goes for the Bluegrass Church of Christers too. Praise God, literally.
We arrived at our hotel in Gainsville just as a mom, grandmother, and 2 children arrived. The mom was exhausted and harried. When she opened the car door, I could hear the whining, bordering on screaming, of the younger child. The mom screamed at the older girl that she was going to bed EARLY. The little girl was distraught and began to wail. I prayed for all 4 people in that car. Everyone seemed to be a their wits' end. I saw the results of my prayer quite quickly, for as I entered the lobby, the little girl was sitting on a luggage cart joyfully enjoying a cookie provided by the desk clerk. She smiled at me and said hello. I smiled back. I then smiled at the mom who had calmed down considerably, and I felt confident that their day was about to improve. Thank you, Lord for small mercies such as an unexpected cookie and a place to rest.
There were other strangers who received passing prayers on their behalfs such as Cody, whose name was on a car window with the plea "pray for Cody." Isn't it marvelous that I do not need to know Cody's last name or his situatiion because the Father does? I prayed for the family who had a flat tire on the side of the road and who had to empty the back of their SUV to get to the spare tire. We might have stopped to help had we thought we could have been of any assistance, but we would have only been a hindrance I am sure. Neither Mr. Lincoln nor I are very adept at the tire changing experience.
I have not made praying for a stranger every day a new year's resolution. It would probably just go the way of my weight loss plan...30 pounds in 30 days, something that big cinnamon roll I just had is not helping. But, I will try to be aware when the Holy Spirit whispers that someone needs my prayers, and I will offer up a petition to the Father I am convinced is listening and attending to us all, even, maybe especially, at the times we are least aware of His presence.
So for today, I wish you a stranger to pray for, a stranger praying for you, belief in the power of prayer, a constant awareness of the Father's presence in your life, and I wish you
blessings
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