Context is king
I learned in college hermenuetics class that context is king when interpreting the Scriptures. It is also king when interpreting the songs of your three-year-old. We have a lot of lines put to music around here. Par exemple: "My dog has fleas." "That is mine, let go." - to list a couple. Tonight on the way home from church Olivia breaks into this diddy:
I cannot see anathing.
I can only see me, me, me.
The stars are dark; I can't see anybody else.
If you do not go to sleep you will get arrested,
and you will not go to church."
I was thinking to myself, why that is a little narcissistic. And where did she learn about being arrested? But, if you are riding home in the dark and the stars aren't out...you can't see "anathing" but yourself. And if your mother threatens that if you do not actually sleep during nap time today, then you will not be able to go to evening church. She actually meant "will not get a rested." (Mike suggested that and then I asked her - that is what she clarified.) Once again, context is king in interpretation.
Note: I do not normally threaten our children with not being able to go to church. We had already attended a morning service and if she does not "get a rested" on Sunday's she is a bear before we get home after the evening service. It is for her own good (and mine) that we stay home on days like that.
She slept...we went...she is sleeping again...and I am headed there myself.
Just another Sabbath worship downtown
This morning Mike led all of worship, except the preaching. It is fun to see him getting to do these things he has waited on the Lord to prepare him for. He led worship some back at Crossroads, but this feels different. So that part of the service alone was fun. But here are some of the other highlights:
Superman (I can't get his real name out of him) came in his normal Superman shirt, but this week he had a shiny purple cape that said "Bibleman" on the back.
Pastor Cooper was preparing us to take the Lord's supper and "Rose," so excited jumps, out of her seat and jogs down the steps (we meet in a movie theatre) and runs right up in front of him and holds out her hands. He was not even close to being finished. He looks at her and says, "Are you ready? You're ready!" She says, "Yes I am!" wiping tears off her face. "Rose" lives across the street from the theatre at a Single Room Occupancy residence, rents by the day. She was hungry...in more than one way.
"Leta" is a large, black woman whom I have never seen out of her wheelchair. She comes every Sunday and sits in the front and every Sunday she leaves (in her automatic wheel chair) in the middle of the sermon to get coffee. It is obvious...we are in a movie theatre after all. Today she stood up and WALKED out to get her coffee. It took her a long time, but sure enough - right there in the middle of the sermon she stood and hobbled out. Steven just kept on preaching.
There are some exciting things happening at Harbor with homeless people. We will try to write more about it on our Harborlinks blog. I learned as much from the preaching of the Word this morning as I did from God's people as they hobbled, ran, and "flew" about this morning.
Birds of Paradise
We walk past this house almost everyday going somewhere or another. The other day I ingeniously (I thought) made the observation to our adoring children that these flowers look just like birds. How observant of me! About an hour after we got home I realized, duh, that they were Birds of Paradise flowers/plant. Apparently I am not the only genius to make this observation.
Olivia wanted her picture in front of them.
Olivia wanted her picture in front of them.
October's Burnt Offerings
This is so beautiful. (click the link below) It makes me cry. I know part of it is because I am so homesick right now I am dreaming in orange and brown and gold. But even more I cry because I am so desperate for my life to be characterized by this - a real sacrifice to the Lord for his service. Not a proud, verbal intention that really hides a lot of self effort and guardedness and busy-ness. I want to dawdle (is that a word?) in the Lord's service - like my children do when we take walks. I get so frustrated because it takes us FOR-EVER! to get anywhere. They have to pick up everything. Touch everything.Stop and stare at everything. I should love that...and deep down I do. But the practical thinker in me says, "If we want to get to the park and have our picnic and read our books and run around before nap time and enjoy it than WE NEED TO HURRY UP! WHY ARE YOU SPENDING SO MUCH TIME ENJOYING THE WALK UP THERE! GOOD GRIEF!" Maybe practical, but clearly not logical. But, what do they care? They just enjoy being with me and each other and trust that everything is all right as long as I am near by and so they can be about everything around them. I don't always really trust that everything is all right with the Lord near and so I busy myself making it all right and then find myself busy and tired.
My prayer this October is to find the beauty in dying...to myself.
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