My Bible, The Velveteen Rabbit and Becoming Real

Do you have a favorite Bible? We have countless Bible on our bookshelves—different translations, multiple copies of the same translation, different binding and covers, and an array of colors and styles. But I have a favorite.

In fact, I’ve written about it before. Last year in Share the Music, I wrote: I love my Bible…. This Bible, my red 1983 NIV, with its frayed spine and peeling cover, is my favorite. It is marked with pen, pencil, colored pencil and maybe even crayon. It is stained with tears and coffee. There are sermon dates and minister’s names scribbled in the margins….

Often when I think about certain scriptures, I can visualize where they are in this Bible, where the verse falls on the page. I’m so familiar with this particular Bible that I really don’t want to choose another when it comes time to study or read. This Bible is my friend. I’ve had it for over 30 years. It is one of my most prized possessions. For a long time, I put the dates that passages were used in sermons or teaching in the margins. My momma did that, too. She, too, used the same Bible for many, many years. It actually became a timeline for her spiritual journey. I remember leafing through her Bible after she died, noting the passages that had been preached on over and over again. Pastor’s names were scribbled in the margins, and now I find myself wishing I had kept up that tradition for as long as she did.

Perhaps the funniest thing I have written in my Bible is an entry made in 1990. It is written above Luke 10:25 and underneath the heading “The Parable of the Good Samaritan.” I have neatly penciled in—Seth Johnson The Nice American VBS 1990. Apparently that year at VBS many of the kids including Seth, who was almost 4, thought that the Bible story about the helpful and kind Samaritan was actually about a "nice American." As a person who worked with kids, I wanted to remember that. Still cracks me up.

I am thankful for my Bible. The way it feels in my hands, and the way it feeds my soul and shapes my life. For 30 years I’ve touched its pages and read the words, but there are so many things yet to learn, countless mysteries to uncover, deep truths to apply, and abundant beauties to discover. I am challenged by that thought and encouraged by it as well. “For the word of God is living and active.” (Hebrews 4:12, NIV). Praise God!

Last year, my daughter Susanna helped a friend pick out and purchase her very first Bible. Sitting in my living room, I watched two strong young women hold their Bibles in their hands, caressing the covers as they talked about how much they loved their Bibles. I watched the first-time owner carefully turn the pages, and I smiled with joy as she pressed her face into the pages to take in its smell. And I’m praying that her love affair with this book only grows deeper and that the powerful fragrance of the Word of God will always be a part of her life.

My heart nearly burst when Susanna went to the bookshelf and searched for the Bible storybook that was her first Bible. She is loaning it out for a while, so that her friend can meet the heroes of Scripture and have a foundation and framework to begin working with as she reads her new Bible. Not everyone grows up having heard the stories of the Bible repeatedly. There are those who do not know the stories of Joseph, Abraham, Noah, Peter, Paul, Deborah, Sarah, or Rachel.

Thank You, Lord, for that reminder, and thank You that there are still those who love Your Word and want to know it. There will probably be a day soon when I will have to make the dreaded trek to the Christian bookstore in search of a new daily Bible. I think about it with trepidation. But until then, and even after, I’m hanging on this this one for my very life, and I’m going to keep loving the words right off the pages.

A passage from The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams applies to me and my Bible: “Real isn’t how you are made. It’s a thing that happens to you. Sometimes it hurts, but when you are Real you don’t mind being hurt. It doesn’t happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time….Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand. Once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.”

You see, my Bible may be “loose in the joints and very shabby,” but I’m becoming more real.

Do you have a favorite Bible? How are you becoming more real?

Silly Band Bracelet

It all started with a silly band. You know those flimsy, rubber band bracelets for kids? It started with that. Mine was blue and shaped like a star. It was important.

Weekly devotions during the teacher’s meetings at my school are interesting. Let’s face it when you’ve walked with the Lord a long time, those kinds of things can be a struggle—at least for me. Heard it. Read it. Saw it. Same old, same old. I love the mornings when the speaker decides to put aside any thought of trying to impress us with some new theological insight or an interesting take on scripture and just tell us stories of how God worked in their lives at a particular time, in a particular way. Their personal stories aren’t things I’ve heard before. They are fresh. They are exciting. They move me.

So 21 days before Easter Sunday this year, one of the teachers shared the story of a group of friends who set out to go 30 days without complaining. To help them with this, they wore a bracelet. Each time they complained ,they physically moved the bracelet to the other arm—and started the count over. The story goes that at the beginning the bracelets moved back and forth from wrist to wrist fairly quickly. The teacher's challenge to us that day—as she passed out a silly band bracelet to each of us—was wear the bracelet and try to go for 21 days—until Resurrection Sunday—without complaining.

I took my blue star and promptly shoved it on my left wrist. I’m always up for a good challenge. Don’t complain. No big deal. I have will power. I have control. Not! Funny thing about an adult wearing a blue star silly band bracelet? Your high school students will ask you about it. So I got to share the story and my challenge with them. Then you know what they had the audacity to do? They held me accountable. 

One morning, before class started, a pop-culture topic came up, and I weighed in. I let the full force of my opinion loose in no uncertain terms. After what could only be described as a volcano of words, molten opinion and critical ash, one of my students politely pointed out that I should probably move my bracelet to the other wrist. Busted! So I did. I moved the bracelet. It had been on my left arm for several days. Move the bracelet. Start the count over.

Can I just tell you how hard it is not to complain? (That was a complaint about complaining!) I even found myself redefining “complaining.” I seriously had these conversations in my head, “It’s not complaining if I’m just stating the facts of what happened, is it?” Real answer? Sometimes, even the facts are a way to complain. But when I made it days in a row without having to move my bracelet, I was more at peace and more full of joy than other days. Did things happen that were perhaps worthy of my voicing a complaint? Absolutely! But the calm and peace that accompanied not giving voice to those complaints was palpable. 

I did not make it to Easter without complaining, but I did make it to Resurrection Sunday with a quieter spirit and a clearer focus on the good things, the blessings in my life that are so easy to just pass over. I didn’t take my bracelet off after the 21-day challenge was finished. I kept in on for weeks after until finally, it got caught on a dishtowel while I was drying my hands and broke. (But I’m not complaining.) 

You know what? I had had it on my left wrist—going quite a number of days without having to move it—and now I missed the weight of it.  The reminder of it. The absence of that thin, rubber band was significant. 

My blue star silly band is gone, but my commitment to live more days without complaining—to count them and pile them up—is not gone. I’m still working on my first 30-day stretch. Will you join me? 

What’s on your wrist?

Decisions, Decisions

Making decisions is hard. It’s a commitment. As long as all the options are open you can just float along—feeling powerful and in control, but really not at all.

So to face Jon Acuff’s #dosummer2015 is nearly paralyzing. Pick something--a new skill or lost art-- to work on for the next 100 days in 15 minute increments. The inner voice tells you the list is too long. The areas in which you need to improve, or just get back to, too varied, too big—unDOable! 

To put it lightly you’re overwhelmed, not by the looming days ahead that will mark your progress, but by the long list of self-inflicted need to self improve and the fear of making the call on the wrong area. Or maybe that’s just me.

That’s crazy talk, though. (I’ve found that much of my self-talk is crazy talk.) With the help of some friends, who are also taking the summer challenge, I've been given permission to choose more than one thing to work one. Did I tell you that I'm a rule keeper? They have helped me see that there can’t be a bad decision here. Choosing to walk into a time of focused effort is a good thing.

Therefore, in the spirit of silencing the crazy, here’s what I’ll be working on for #dosummer2015:

• Personal writing—journaling, blogging, notes to friends
• Yoga and healthy movement—regaining lost ground (at home and in studio)
• Piano—seriously anything will be an improvement here
• Teaching—reading, organizing, lesson planning, research (specifically for my chemistry classes)

There, it is written down, and it is varied for sure, but it’s settled. My DO Summer worksheets are printed and labeled. If you want to read more about #dosummer2015 visit http://acuff.me/dosummer2015/ to get started on your own journey this summer.

What will your life look like on the other side of summer?

Just another Tuesday night

Last night there was a situation in our neighborhood that resulted in the arrival of copious police cars, SWAT snipers, police dogs, riot gear.  The Smyrna Police department will release a statement later today, and I'm waiting for that because right now the four local news channels are reporting it all a little differently.  Which is sort of funny, but not so much.

The good news is that the professionals did their jobs with excellence and that there was no loss of life.  For that we are thankful.

Here are a few of my observations and questions from last night.  (I realize this was a serious and potentially dangerous situation for our neighbors and the police officers.  My comments here are not intended to make light of that fact.)

1.  When a SWAT sniper bangs on your front door at 9 p.m. while you're watching The Killing on Netflix do you ask for ID?  I didn't actually think of it until I was opening the door to the deck and he was already in my house.   That's probably too late.  Now the SWAT officer is standing in the doorway of the deck with all his gear trying to pull out his ID, which he finally admits is back at his vehicle.  He tells us we can call the Smyrna Police Department to verify that he is supposed to be there.  We do.  He is.  They give me his name.  I can't remember it.  Of course he assumed that we had seen all the police cars and such, but all that was happening on the street behind us.  And we were glued to the crime drama on Netflix oblivious to the actual crime drama happening right behind us.

2.  Ever wanting to be the gracious hostess, exactly how and when do you offer a beverage to the SWAT guy sprawled on your deck?  All we were able to do was eek out "Do you need anything?" from a crack   at the sliding glass door to which came the reply, "No.  Please stay inside your house."  OK. Will do.  Just wanted to make sure you weren't thirsty.

3.  Can you go to bed with a sniper on your deck?  Now, for some of you this is not a question at all.  You probably wouldn't have slept even after he left, but since I had already fallen asleep on the couch twice after he arrived (only to be awaken by gunshots--not from our deck by the way), I was seriously thinking about it especially not know how long this was going to be.  We finally decided that it would be rude to go to bed with a visitor on the deck, so we stayed up.  (Actually going to bed with a sniper on your deck could give a whole new meaning to "safe sex.")

4.  What does one say the police sniper when he leaves your house?  About 12:15 a.m. after spending 3 hours on our deck, he knocked at the sliding glass door and said that he was being deployed to another house.  This fine officer, who just had his rifle trained at our neighbor's windows where we could see movement inside the home, offered to come back and move our deck furniture into place, "if this all resolves well."  Michael told he we would take care of it.  We thanked him, and he hurried off reminding us to stay inside and away from windows.  "Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir!"  Just over an hour later four shots were fired and the incident ended.  Rubber bullets were actually used to disarm the man.  We don't know if they were from our sniper or not, but they didn't come from our deck.

5.  Apparently, when we are instructed to stay away from windows and move to the front of the house, we can do that with no problem and just continue to watch TV.  I did call a couple of neighbors to make sure they were OK since we didn't know exactly what was going on.  I'm not sure what that says about me and Michael, but I'm going to go with the "peace like a river" thing.  I don't always flow with that river, but we did last night.

6.  I keep wanting to make some snarky Smyrna vs. East Nashville remark because of that bumper sticker Daniel loves "East Nashville: Way better than Smyrna." But I can't make it happen.  If you come up with something let me know.

Pretty sure I'm going to need an extra cup of coffee and a nap, right after we move the deck furniture back into place.

Lessons from Acorns

I have been raking leaves.  It is the first of many leaf gathering sessions that will take place in my yard between now and the coming spring.  I have a love-hate relationship with the trees in my yard.  The trees are beautiful and their canopies have really grown and filled out nicely since we moved here 14 years ago.  They provide excellent shade in summer that helps cool our home, but that same shade makes it impossible for grass to grow.  The fall foliage is particularly brilliant this year, the best in many years, but I have allergies to oak.  So my battle with the leaves always turns into a physical battle of sneezing and itchy throat.  Not to mention the fact that the red oaks in our yard hang on to the last of their leaves until the new leaves are ready to come out in spring, so our leaf gathering lasts for months. Yes, it is definitely a love-hate relationship.

This year there is a new twist in the leaf gathering.  Well, it is not actually new, just more noticeable.  It is the acorns.  If you can have a crop of acorns then we have the largest crop of acorns I have ever seen.  If I had a nickel for every acorn on my lawn.... Well, you get the idea. 

While raking the first leaves I was amazed at the number of acorns.  They were plentiful and they were huge.  We have always had acorns, but not since we moved here have we had this many.  They are literally piles of them on the ground.  The other day, the wind was blowing and they were falling and hitting my son in the head as he played soccer in the driveway.  The complicated relationship continues.

While I continued to pick up leaves and let the acorns sift to the ground, I began to wonder about their abundance.  Why were there so many this year?  Then it hit me.  Well actually, I think God pointed it out to me.  The acorns are plentiful for the same reason the foliage is so colorful this year.  The drought ended.  For the first summer in many summers, we had plenty of rain.  Sometimes a little more than we thought we wanted, but we had rain.  The oak trees are fruitful because they have been well-watered. 

And there is the truth.  The trees are fruitful because they are well-watered.  That's the phrase the Holy Spirit drilled into my spirit.  “Keep yourself well-watered, Rhonda, and you will continue to bear a bountiful harvest.  If you stay in a spiritual drought condition your fruit is skimpy, shriveled, and sparse.”  Wow, I love it when God talks to me in easy to understand, direct applications.  I could not possibly misunderstand what He was saying to me. 

There are so many examples from nature that apply to our spiritual walk with Christ.  This is why the apostle Paul could, without pause, write in Romans 1:20, “For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—His eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.”  (NIV)   I am uniquely thankful that God is willing to teach me and show me things about myself and about His wonderful, eternal nature in a mundane activity like raking leaves.

So look for the lessons.  They are out there.  Some of the most meaningful lessons are in the everyday, work-a-day, I've-done-this-a-million-times kind of things.  God shows up, and all of a sudden an acorn becomes a mighty oak of a life lesson.  Don't miss them.  Your next teachable moment with God may be while washing dishes, or filling your car with fuel, or purchasing groceries, or tending a sick child, or looking into the eyes of a student in your choir, or walking along a well-known path.  Be ready.  Be filled with the Word, so that when the lesson comes, you will know exactly how to apply it.  Stay well-watered.

How will you stay soggy and fruitful?

(This article was published in Share the Music, a newsletter published by Brentwood-Benson and distributed by Hal Leonard Corporation.  It is used here by permission.)

Quebecish

What languages are spoken in Quebec?  That was the question on a seventh grade geography test that my friend, Jeff, happened to be grading at my house the other day during a football game.  Unfortunately, one of his students answered this question with “English and Quebecish.” 

This answer sparked peals of laughter from the sports fans gathered in my living room.  While I was chuckling at the wonder that is the average middler schooler, I found myself thinking  “Everyone knows the answer is English and French.  I've always known that.”  But then I realized, that I couldn't have “always” known this.  I had to learn this.

Somewhere, at sometime, in a classroom far, far away, a teacher presented that piece of information in a meaningful way, and I remembered it.  Perhaps more accurately, the information was presented over and over in a variety of ways, and I learned it without even knowing that it had been learned.

That is a great thing about working with children and the truth of Scripture.  We get to present truths in a variety of meaningful ways.  We get to use music, games, stories, maps, crafts, movement, and play to teach students the truths that will change their lives.  We get to subtly, yet purposefully, weave truth into the lives of the children in our classes.

Sometimes when we present truth we see the spiritual lights come on.  We are there when the student really grabs hold of a truth and begins to live it out.  Those times are to be prayed for, planned for, sought out and treasured.

Many times, however, in our week to week classes we are laying a foundation that another will build on.  We see spiritual sparks that will later be fanned into flames.  We find ourselves living out John 4:37 “One sows and another reaps.” 

This is when we have to dig deep in our preparations and remind ourselves often of the joy of first discoveries.  We have to handle the truth with joy and awe as if we, ourselves, are learning it for the first time. 

The challenging part of this is that your lesson preparation can't be thrown together at the last minute.  You can't fake joy and awe.  I've written this before, but it bears repeating as we begin a new year together—give the Holy Spirit time to teach you before you try to lead your choir on a spiritual journey.  Give yourself time to remember when you first learned something.  It will help you be a better disciple.  It will help you be a much better discipler.

Finding joy and awe in English and Quebecish,

Rhonda

(This article originally appeared in Share the Music, a newsletter for Brentwood-Benson Music Publishing, distributed by Hal Leonard Corporation.  It is used here with permission.)

A Son Seeker

The other morning I snuggled into the corner of the couch and grabbed my One Year Bible.  It was early.  The house was quiet, and I had some catching up to do.  An unexpected trip and poor planning on my part found me on he next to the last day of the month with several days of reading to do to be back on track.  No worries.  I had a fresh cup of coffee, a clear head, clean glasses and a determined spirit to mark this off of my “to do” list for the day.

As I sat reading, I soon found myself in the glow of the rising sun.  The corner of the couch I had chosen is in the perfect position to get the full blast of morning sun.  In fact, if you are there at the right moment of the day, you will find yourself in the blinding glare of the morning sun.  The light is so intense you can feel it coming, creeping slowly up until it reaches the top panes and then, you have a choice,  you can move and avoid the glare or you can close your eyes for a few moments and soak it in.

That is what I did on that cold winter morning.  I chose to soak it in.  I closed my eyes, took a break from my Bible reading and let the sun warm my face and make the back of my eyelids glow.  It felt so good—physically and spiritually. I wanted to stay there in that light.  I wanted to sit with the Word in my hand and just bask in the sun.  I wanted it to last for hours, not just minutes.

But just like the sun faithfully does every day, it moved on up in the sky (or at least that is my perception of what happens) and the place where I sat became chilled and dim. I sat there for a few moments longer with my head back and my eyes closed wishing I could have made it last just a little longer.

Despite my wishing, I could not make the sun stay where I was.  If I wanted to remain in its forceful, powerful path, I had to move. I was completely comfortable on my couch.  But if I wanted the sun on my face, I was going to have to move to a new spot and keep moving.

I wanted to be stay on the couch where I was settled and cozy, but the sunshine was beckoning, “Come play over here! Come work here; serve here! Come glow here!  Come rest here, now!”  The light was on the move.

So there on that cold winter morning, the sunshine taught me a lesson.  Nature—God's eternal design—taught me a spiritual truth (Romans 1:20).  Stay in the light, walk in the light, live in the light.  Not for just a moment, but continually. 

The sunshine was making 1 John 1:7 come alive to me in a new and fresh way, “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.” (NIV)  The  morning light was directing my thoughts to the Light of the world. (John 8:12)

Where is the Light beckoning you?  Have you felt the warmth on your face lately?  Have you sought out its intense beams?  Have the backs of your spiritual eyelids glowed in the fullness of His light?  Oh, I hope so. 

See you in the Son!

(This article was originally published in Share the Music, a newsletter for Brentwood-Benson Music Publishing, distributed by Hal Leonard Corporation.  It is used here with permission.)