With up to 31 days in a month and the book of Proverbs containing 31 chapters, it’s the perfect pairing for daily reading. We all need God’s wisdom and Proverbs fittingly offers a chapter a day, month to month, from which to draw out wisdom. On my previous month’s cycle through Proverbs, this one jumped out at me:
“A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls.” (Proverbs 25:28)
My wife’s grandfather is a wonderful man. He is good, faithful, loving, gracious, generous, and I could go on. He is 90 years old and lives with dementia, but every day he carries a smile and every word that flows from his heart is joyful, pure, and gentle. This didn’t happen because he is somehow older and wiser; rather, it came from a life of abiding with Jesus. Sadly, there are many people who, as they age and begin to lose their memory, pour out words that are harsh, aggressive, and hurtful. When our filters are gone, our true beliefs and thoughts come out. But when someone commits their life to abiding with Jesus, one of the fruits they cultivate is a spirit of gentleness, and it is beautiful to see and to be around.
This day has become etched in my mind. It was a cooler spring day in March. I was at work and received a text from my husband: “Do you have lunch plans?” Not an unusual text to receive, yet I could sense something was off. We arranged the time and place. He was waiting for me in the corner of the restaurant, ready to hand me the letter he had received only hours before.
Near the end of May while simply pulling rhubarb in my back yard – as I had many times before – I strained my back. I went to get medical attention for it but between the passing of my mother-in-law, a visit from our youngest daughter and her family from England, and a full season of wonderful family activities, the pace did not allow for much healing.
As a young, newly commissioned pastor who was scheduled to preach 40 weeks a year, while raising a young family and simultaneously plugging away on my master’s degree at seminary, the practice of Sabbath rest sounded like a pipe dream. The incorporation of Sabbath seemed unattainable, something reserved for future me. Perhaps after my schooling was complete and my kids could finally sleep through the night, then and only then Sabbath might finally be attainable.
There was a time that I would have been satisfied with being happy, but that was before I started to learn about joy, that fruit which the Spirit of God produces in us as we walk with him and learn to trust him.
“Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honour.” (Romans 12:9-10)
Have you ever had a moment when a simple passage of Scripture catches you up short, convicts and compels you to action? This passage has significantly done so for me. I am transported in my thoughts to a moment when I was taught a profound lesson in love and honour by a homeless man.
“‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord. ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, And my thoughts than your thoughts.’” (Isaiah 55:8-9)
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (2 Timothy 4:17)
Forty years ago, I was at the starting line of pastoral ministry. During that season, I attended one of my first pastors’ conferences and I was eager to learn and grow. One of the speakers, who had been in ministry for 40 years, was asked about the key to his longevity. He simply said, “Keep showing up” – and that phrase has stuck with me ever since. At that time, the finish line was the furthest thing from my mind and his advice sounded so simple! I have since learned that there is nothing simple about it. Pastoral ministry is hard work because it is heart work.
Becoming the Chief Operating Officer (COO) for Focus on the Family Canada was my sixth major transition since entering full-time vocational ministry as an assistant pastor over 30 years ago. Those changes have taught me that every new role involves grieving certain losses while embracing new opportunities. It’s a strange feeling to be simultaneously thrilled with a fresh challenge in a new environment while wrestling with missing family, friends and familiar surroundings. And as I’ve gotten older, change has become even more challenging to adapt to.