Beyond the Door

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.”

—Matthew 7:7-8

I cried when my closest colleague told me she was retiring. They should have been tears of joy for her, but honestly they were tears of sorrow for myself. Roz and I had worked together for 10 years, both of us high school CTE (Career and Technology Education) teachers. At least seven of those years, we occupied adjoining classrooms. I don’t know why the rooms were designed with a shared door, nor do I know of any similar setups in the building, but I do know it was designed just right for us. Being next to each other in our secluded wing of the building gave us the opportunity to get to know each other on a deeper level. Early communication revealed that we shared the Christian faith. Soon we were praying together in the mornings before school began. While at first we prayed for our school, our students, and the day before us, in time our petitions evolved to personal matters. Roz and I learned we had so much more in common than our faith. We were both career changers, each of us having worked in the world of business before becoming teachers. Each of us had also dabbled in the dramatic arts in our younger days. We were both faithful churchgoers and at the time we were both church treasurers, collaborating even on church accounting software. We had granddaughters born within weeks of each other. Later our daughters gave birth to preemies, each early delivery a result of the same condition. Together, we rejoiced; together we cried. I shared private concerns with Roz that I have shared with no other, except the Lord. I knew I could trust Roz to keep everything in confidence. I also knew I could rely on her to give wise advice. No matter the situation, Roz would come through for me, whether an idea for an assignment, a prayer, advice, or her comforting presence. All I had to do was knock. Help was just beyond the door.

Winter: Is there any good in this most difficult season?

“As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.” 

—Genesis 8:22

Gray skies cast its gloom over me and frigid temperatures kept me captive inside my own home. The landscape, dead and devoid of any color except brown, caused me to question why anyone would like winter. Certainly I didn’t, and recently I had made that known to anyone who would listen, declaring that if I could I would retreat to warmer climates during the dreaded season.

My attitude had been poor since I threw over the page of my perpetual calendar on December 31^st and read the familiar verse, which quoted the very words of God Himself: “As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease” (Genesis 8:22).

I focused on the words “cold” and “winter” and groaned at the reminder. I knew it meant I had to endure the long stretch of months, holed up inside my four walls, with little evidence of life beyond. Nothing growing in the surrounding fields or flowerbeds, nothing green except the algae growing on my siding.

With all this negativity, I had to give this matter pause. God said as long as the earth remains, we will have seasons. That will not change. And as long as I remain on this earth, I will have to endure winter (if I can’t escape to Florida). To make the experience more palatable, even positive, I decided I needed to change. So, I prayed, Lord, if everything You make is good (1 Timothy 4:4), that must mean that winter is good. Help me to see the good in winter. I am keeping my eyes wide-open.

Patiently Endure

Patient endurance is what you need now, so that you will continue to do God’s will. Then you will receive all that he has promised.

—Hebrews 10:36 NLT

It was a whirlwind visit for my daughter Rebekah, her husband Jairo, and their two-year-old son Javier (“Javi”). They arrived at my house late on Friday and spent all day Saturday at our family reunion. The next morning they packed up to return to Pennsylvania.

Javi is a typical two-year-old boy. He loves climbing, jumping on beds and playing outside. He makes toys out of sticks and feathers and is especially fond of animals. Rarely will you spot him without an animal figure in hand.

When he comes to visit, a trip to the pasture is always in order so he can see the cows. But this weekend, there wasn’t a break in the schedule for tromping to the fields.

As Rebekah and Jairo packed suitcases in their Jeep, Javi and I followed. In a flash, Javi took off running, arms flailing, feet flying straight for the pasture, fenced in with electrified barbed wire.

Stay in Lane

”... let us strip off and throw aside every encumbrance (unnecessary weight) and that sin which so readily (deftly and cleverly) clings to and entangles us, and let us run with patient endurance and steady and active persistence the appointed course of the race that is set before us”

—Hebrews 12:1

“Wait for green,” the traffic sign read.

As opposed to what? I wondered. Doesn't every licensed driver know to wait for green before venturing through the intersection?

“Beware of aggressive drivers,” the next sign also caught my attention.

What? They have to post a sign for this? Where I come from the signs read, “Beware of deer crossing.” But aggressive drivers? What state is this?

I was traveling through Pennsylvania and New Jersey when I spotted those signs, so I’m not sure which one gets the credit. But I do know which state gets the credit for the sign I read this week—it’s where I come from, my own beloved Maryland.

“Use caution. Stay in lane.”

Perhaps I’m missing something, because again as opposed to what? Doesn't every driver know that?

Daddy to the rescue!

When you cross deep rivers,

I will be with you,

and you won't drown.

When you walk through fire,

you won't be burned

or scorched by the flames.--Isaiah 43:2

I was still on the phone notifying the electric company about my power outage when I heard the rumble of a truck in my driveway.  I stuck my head out the door.

“You’ve got a fire out here!” my father called to me.

“What! A fire! Should I call 911?”

“No, I think I can put it out!” he shouted over his shoulder as he trotted off toward the front of my house.

I ran after him and rounded the corner, gasping at what I saw—tongues of flames licking the dry grass, traveling toward the pasture in one direction and toward my house in the other.

“No!” I shouted, “There may be a live wire on the ground!”