Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

Psalm 139:13-18

13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
16 your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you.

I have friends whose oldest boy was born without one of his hands. His arm is near the full length of the other one, but his hand is not there. While for others who do not know him it may be a surprise to see him when first meeting him, it has become to me, part of who he is. I really don’t notice it usually. He is so much more than the absence of his hand. It also helps that he isn’t still for more than five seconds at a time.

From the time he was very young he has been fitted with prosthesis to get him use to it. As he ages the complexity of the hand will improve. It is thought it may be so intricate as to play the piano some day. It is truly amazing what science can afford each new generation.

On Sunday I had the privilege of filling in for the three, four and five class. He was in the class. Our lesson was on how God created us, each one differently, each in His image, and each he knew since before we were born. We spoke on how some are tall, some are short, some have dark skin, some have light skin, but each loved equally by God and no one person ought to think himself more important than he is.

Our craft was to measure each child’s height, arm length, leg length, head circumference, and then each child would trace their hand and draw a self portrait in the designated rectangle.

When I got to this child, I measured the arm with the hand and wrote down the length. I moved on to his leg. He said, “Hey, what about this one? This one is different.” So, I said, “Okay, we can measure that one.” I finished measuring and once I was finished with all the other kids, I helped them trace their hands. I got to him again and traced his hand. And he said, “I want to trace this hand too, so everyone knows it’s me.” I said, “Okay, we can do that!”

As I began to trace his little nubby as they call it, I couldn’t help but be so excited that he was celebrating what many people would lament. I drew from around where his arm began to taper to the end and brought it up around the other side. As he lifted his arm off the paper I saw one perfectly formed hand next to an oddly misshapen nubby. As I looked at the paper I saw a thing of beauty, and though a hand was missing, it was complete and as it should be. It is my favorite craft I’ve been involved with to date.

“Suffer the little children to come unto Me.”, Jesus said. I’m so thankful for it, because kids have a way of rebuking adults of which they are blissfully unaware. There are many things I wish I could change about myself. I wish I were shorter, didn’t have the bone structure of my German heritage, could actually grow finger nails, and there are other things as well. But I cannot change my genetic makeup. And I shouldn’t want to. And when I see someone with something that has the potential of limiting him much more than any of my issues, I am reminded that I am ungrateful. And I realize I have forgotten that I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Are You Freaking Kidding Me?

The things I am about to mention I did not see live. So, I am gathering information from news articles and video when I could find them. Having prefaced that, I'd like comment on Representative Wilson calling out during President Obama's speech, and Kanye West being his normal idiot self.



Representative Wilson, though ill timed and untactful at best was responding to a hotly debated national, high budget concern. I do not think he did the Republican party any favors with his outburst, but let's get real. In 1856 Preston Brooks beat Charles Sumner over the head until he was unconcious! That is a true scandal. That is something to apologize over and over about, not a sophomoric outburst. Wilson has apologized to the President directly. I wish people would focus on the topic of discussion that drew such a cry as opposed to repremanding the crier. He apologized, he knows he was an idiot for it, now move on. Smoke and mirrors, smoke and mirrors!



Contrastly, Kanye West grabs the microphone from a teenager accepting and award and says whatever he wants and people are "so over it". I mean like totally, how many times can he possibly say sorry? It's not like he pushed her or anything!



I tried to write my best valley girl, but I really cannot stand the intonation and I must get it out of my head now.



But my point is this, his remark was about a music video. A music video people. Who cares!? People are willing to move past his rudeness and get back to the business of entertainment, but we cannot let go of you lie and get back to serving the American people.



Please do not misunderstand. I do not think it is in any way becoming of anyone to disrupt a speech and especially that of the President. But with the topic at hand, I think we can all realize he let his emotions get the best of him. I've heard more strongly worded nonsense when listening to football recaps Monday morning.



I read one article that said Wilson meant to say "boy" at the end of his outburst. Oh please, get over it. The only people making a big deal out of the President's skin color are his supporters. I don't get it! My disagreements with him are soley on policy. Hence I dislike the governing policies just as much if not more so, of Nancy Pelosi. I have nothing nice to say about her and will end my mention of her post haste as to retain my Christian witness!



So I guess if I'm ever to make a public spectacle of myself I should be certain it is over somethign superfluous and inane. Heaven forbid I should voice my disdain for something potentially impacting billions of dollars and millions of people!

Excuse Me, Excuse Me, What's My Motivation?

I have been thinking a lot about running lately.  Mostly because I’ve been doing a lot of running.  More truthfully, slow jogging, but you get the picture.  I am training for a half marathon.  It is going to be the longest I’ve ever run at one time.  I suspended my gym membership to utilize the beauty of the outdoors, but with the weather this summer, it has been a constant game of thunderstorm tetris.  Now with the humidity we’ve seen the last two weeks, I have an added challenge.  But, no one ever said reaching a goal would be easy.  So, I continue to push myself, to try to go faster, farther, and keep my mind on my form and breathing. 

A lot can go through your mind while jogging.  I’ve prayed for nearly everyone I know and daydreamed about many things.  I’ve also thought about the apostle Paul and his use of the analogy of our Christian life being a race.  

I realize going into my “race”, that I’m not going to win.  Some would say, why would you try at something you know you won’t win? My goal is to finish.  If I finish, I win.  That is my prize.  Some may race for the prize of first over the finish line.  The day may come when that may be my goal.  For now, to finish without walking is my goal.  If I must walk because like the other day the humidity made it so I had to chew the air I was breathing, then so be it.  But my goal is to finish with a 14 minute average.  Starting this adventure my average was more like 15 minutes.  

Jogging is a very solitary activity.  It is in contrast to most things I enjoyed as a child and a teenager.  Volleyball, not so fun with one person.  There are only so many times you can bump the ball to yourself or practice setting, and then you just look sad.  Basketball, sure you can practice layups,  dribbling, and rebounds even, but again, there comes a point when you just want at least one other person to challenge you.  On the contrary, jogging for me is best when I am alone. 

 

On the occasion I find myself at the track by myself I relish it.  When people come and start jogging around I find myself comparing our speed, form, and breathing.  I become more focused on them than I am on myself which, for a jogger, is mental surrender.  So, I remind myself that this is for me.  It does not matter if others finish first.  I may be jogging more miles, and they may be training for speed and I’m training for endurance.  And that got me wondering what is that prize Paul is talking about? 

 

I started out trying to go fast, working on speed and wanting to be done within a certain amount of time.  Then I realized I needed to go for distance and started to work at going farther and farther.  The more miles I did, the better I became and naturally the time started to fall off as I became faster.  My goal of distance helped me reach my secondary goal of speed.  The secondary goal that for too long I had as the primary.  Incidentally, the last I ran, my average was just over 13 minutes, so it even helped me surpass my goal of speed.  

In the analogy of the race in the Bible, Paul speaks of running the race to win the prize.  I took this as being like Jesus.  We all hear, I want to be like Jesus, would Jesus do that? Would you say that if Jesus were here? You get the point.  Paul also speaks of a desire to know Him and the power of His resurrection and the glory of His suffering. 

 

If I am striving to know the Savior on a more personal level every day, I cannot help but be conformed to His image.  When I know Him, I will be guided more fully by His Holy Spirit keeping me from things, guiding me to where I should be.  Helping me guard my tongue, heart, and mind.  To know Him, is to be like Him.  So like running where my goal was to go faster, it didn't happen until I aimed at going farther. Likewise, my desire to be like Jesus, will only come when I really know who He is.  

I am a fifties music junkie and my sister Michelle for the life of her cannot understand my taste in music.  The feeling is mutual, K.C. and the Repetitive Band is no match for The Platters, but in any case, there is a song from the fifties that is really schmaltzy and it says.  To know know know him is to love  love love him and I do ... and I do… and I do…..Insert overly swooning intonation and background singers galore and you get the picture.  A cute little song, not one of my favorites and I could live quite happily never hearing the song again.  But I think in the sense of getting to know Jesus it is true.  There is a difference in knowing what Jesus did and knowing who He is.  I can be thankful for what he did without knowing Him.  I could go my whole life being redeemed because I believe what He did for me.  But I'd be missing out on so much if I didn't try to know Him.  The more I know Him, the more I love Him.  it would be impossible not to, and that is the beauty.  When our goals are righted, our outcome is sure.  

Now since I began to write this post a few weeks ago, there has been a hindrance not laid aside.  I sprained my toe and have been advised by the doctor to sit this race out.  To say I am disappointed is a gross understatement.  The fact that the injury happened while killing a bug and stepping off my bed simultaneously, is just unbelievable! However, it lends itself quite readily into the analogy.  The Christian life is full of bumps, missteps, stupid things we never would have dreamed would cause harm.  Yet, like for the body, there is healing.  I'm just glad I don't have to wait three weeks for forgiveness or to get back in the race.  

I will train again at the end of these three weeks and I can't wait for whatever else God wants to teach me through it.  So great how He meets us where we are!