The Whole Pie

             How well I remember sitting around the table with a visiting missionary family and several other guests for a dessert night! The discussion eventually turned to priorities, when someone said something about putting God first, family next, and ourselves last.

            I was somewhat surprised when this missionary wife jumped in with this question: “What is the chief purpose for us being here?”

            Most were quiet, afraid to answer incorrectly, while another hesitated then said, “To serve God?”

            “To glorify Him,” the missionary wife said. “Picture a pie.” She pointed to one on the table. “Some Christians have been taught to serve God, then family, then themselves.” She pretended to cut a huge piece of pie for God, a mid-sized for family, and a sliver for self. “This is flawed thinking.”

            I listened intently. Flawed thinking? But I’ve been taught that—especially all my years at a strict Bible college where no one dare question legalistic instruction.

            She continued. “If we’re to do all to the glory of God and all our service belongs to Him, then His is the whole pie, not just a piece.”

            “Then how do you know how much is what?” I asked. 

            “On the mission field, one day we might have more responsibilities in ministry, and that may be a really big piece of the pie. Another day, family might need more than the ministry,” she said pretending to cut the pie elsewhere. “There’ll also be times we must take care of ourselves so we don’t burnout.” She pretended to cut another slice, not a sliver. “It’s all God’s. The whole pie. When you think of it that way, the pieces will be cut different sizes, depending on the day. Ministry, family, ourselves—all for His Glory.”

            This family returned to the United States from Africa every five years, making their furlough rounds to supporting churches and sharing what God was doing on the mission field. There were fruits from their labor, and most of their children handled life well. One did not. (Timewise this was when some mission boards required missionaries’ children to attend boarding school in Europe.) When all this father and mother could do to help that child at such a distance failed, they made the tough decision to head Stateside.

            I have little doubt they received some criticism for this. After all, hadn’t they committed their lives to serve the Lord in Africa? Yet, this couple took care of family at a most critical time. It “saved” this child. They’d given God the whole pie years earlier. They were still doing so, but now the pieces needed to be sliced differently—but all to the glory of God.

            In this particular case, another ministry sprung from this decision to “come home.” Because of their struggling child’s experience, this couple realized other MKs (missionary kids) hurt too. So, from their stateside mission field they reached out and for the remainder of their years helped multitudes of MKs.

            When we struggled with a troubled daughter and complications in her and our lives, we took a leave of absence from ministry. Some people eyed this as failure and let us know so. But at that time the chief need was this child. By pouring into her then, we felt we were honoring God because He wanted our child to be well and our parenting to honor Him. After all, hadn’t we dedicated her to the Lord and made a promise to Him?

            There’s always ministry to be done. Aways lost souls to win. But at what expense if a minister is sold out for God and sells out his family?

            A beautiful example of what I’m trying to express is our pastor. Totally dedicated to the Lord and his church family. Then a sadness—rapid deterioration of his beloved wife’s health—to the point she needed a great deal of care. He didn’t hesitate in making the decision to focus on the earthly love of his life—the one he’d said “I do” to more than fifty years earlier.

            Pastor expressed, “I want to be there for her—for as long as she needs me, however long that is.” This meant stepping back from the pulpit from time to time—and could realistically mean doing so more in the future as he keeps his commitment to his bride.

            That’s the whole pie with pieces sized differently depending on the need. And as our pastor lovingly cares for his wife, he glorifies God through this humble act of worship.

            If you’ve been raised in a legalistic setting, you’ll struggle with the concept I’ve presented and will either declare me a heretic or ask God to free you from that teaching. (I hope the latter.) I’m sure, however, we all agree on one thing—that God is deserving of all the glory—the whole pie!

            And to our pastor, thank you for your example—giving glory to God in ALL you do. How pleased He is and accepting of your worship! 

Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to thee.

Take my moments and my days; let them flow in endless praise…

Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of thy love.

Take my feet and let them be swift and beautiful for thee…

Take my love; my Lord, I pour at thy feet its treasure store.

Take myself, and I will be ever, only, all for thee—ever only all, for thee.

(from the hymn “Take My Life” by Frances R. Havergal, public domain, 1874)

 

“I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies

a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.”

Romans 12:1 NKJV

And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus,

Giving thanks to God the Father through Him.

Colossians 3:17 NKJV

#glorytoGod #legalism #guilt #servingGod #pie #missionary

Marriage, Wounds, & Scars

             Dad, Mom, my sister, and I couldn’t’ve been more thrilled, returning to Madison Square Garden for another Billy Graham Crusade!

            Rev. Graham’s message addressed a broken world and need for the Savior. Profoundly simple. All his messages were because the good news of the Gospel was easy to understand—Jesus Christ coming to earth, dying on the cross, and resurrecting from the dead to clean sinners’ hearts and open Heaven for all who sought Him.

            At the close of that evening, a song filled “the Garden.” As masses of people sang Just as I am, folks of all ages left their seats and headed down the steps to the floor level to be counseled and led to the Savior.

Just as I am, without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me,

And that thou bidd’st me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come…

Just as I am, and waiting not to rid my soul of one dark blot.

To thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot, O Lamb of God, I come…

Just as I am, though tossed about with many a conflict, many a doubt,

Fightings and fears within, without, O Lamb of God, I come…

Just as I am, thou wilt receive, wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;

Because thy promise I believe, O Lamb of God, I come. I come.

(Charlotte Elliott, 1835, Public Domain)

            I didn’t go down those steps. Didn’t need to. The matter of my heart was already settled as was the assurance I belonged to Jesus. That, too, before this night in the Garden. So, I used those moments to pray for those who needed to find the Savior.

            Unbeknownst to me, one hundred miles to the north a twelve-year-old boy watched the same Crusade on TV. While I was praying in New York City, he opened his heart to Jesus.

He, too, wrestled with matters of the heart in the years to come before realizing—although he’d made Jesus Savior—he hadn’t made Him Lord. When Brian surrendered, God led him to a special ministry, working with disabled kids and teens—where I had arrived the previous year.

We im met, fell in love, married, and lived happily ever after.

Nope. Not even close.

            Ours may have been a “marriage made in Heaven,” but we were living in a broken world where so much of the “unheavenly” seeped in. We were both missionaries serving the Lord. Yet, even that sometimes brought struggles by what we’d been taught—God first, husband next, family last. (In my next blog post, I’ll share how we were “reprogrammed.”) But being sold out for God left us too exhausted for the rest.

            Child #1 came along. Then twins.

Brian ministered away from home many hours, and I was spent. But we were doing what we should be. Right? Our mission board at that time relocated us to New York City. Life was not easier but better for us there, yet we still struggled as we followed “our teaching.”

            Another child arrived.

            By this time, we just couldn’t function anymore. Through prayer and counseling, we realized it was time to make major changes. We signed on with a more family-friendly mission board and made our way to another part of the country.

            Before we left, though, we rededicated our marriage to God in a mini-ceremony with our pastor and his wife.

            A fresh start! That had to be good. It was in many ways, and we grew together through trying times when we had little to go on. But our hearts were in the right place—our love for each other redirected properly.

            We continued to serve God with all our hearts and did our best to raise a family for Him, but life would turn on us more than a time or two—testing our marriage to the core. All that happened should’ve broken us. Crushed really. We were wounded, damaged, depressed.

            In time, those wounds healed.

            The scars, though, don’t go away. They never will.

            But God can use scars. Look at the nail prints in Jesus’ Hands!

            Scars carry a message and, yes, even Hope. They’re also grand “authenticators” to others who hurt—those who’ll listen to us because we’ve “been there.”

            So this scarred husband and wife march on, praying we remain faithful to God and each other.

            Are you scarred? Do your scars help you give “authentic” comfort to others who need to know God will bring them through the same hurts you’ve endured? I pray you find value in the hardships that caused those and have the courage to reach others because of them.

            But maybe you’re still too wounded. May I encourage you to take needful steps—prayer, Bible reading, even godly counseling—to aid in healing. For some this takes less time than for others. (It took us a great many years.) That’s okay.

            Rest in Him, let Him be Your Balm. and trust He knows what He’s doing because—remember—He went through horrific wounding and bears the scars.

            There’s no one more Authentic than Jesus Christ—the Great Healer and Counselor!

#BillyGrahamCrusade #NewYorkCity #Jesus #salvation #love&marriage #scars

"Why Am I Still Here?"

            Our elderly—this priceless group of people—have long been favorites of mine.

            Such a one was Weezie! Dear to the core. I came to know her in the Appalachian Mountains—when she lived with her daughter who, at the time, needed a “sitter” for her mom while she took her husband for cancer treatments. I was one of the chosen.

            What a joy and delight spending time with Weezie, hearing her stories, and sharing in her love for the Lord!

            But the time came when she could no longer be cared for in her daughter and son-in-law’s home due to his health decline, so Weezie moved to a nursing home. It was a fine place, don’t get me wrong, but Weezie changed as a woman in her nineties does just because—well—that’s what happens.

            I hopped over the mountain a time or two to visit her, and I’ll never forget (as long as I have memory) our last time together. I found Weezie sitting in her wheelchair and pulled a seat as close as possible in front of her. We held hands and talked a bit. Then I read her a Psalm and closed my Bible.

            Weezie leaned forward. I thought she was falling out of her wheelchair and reached out to catch her, but she just wanted to rest her head on my chest. So I held her there.

            She was quiet a minute. Then she glanced up, looked into my eyes, and asked, “Why am I still here?”

            I thought some moments, knowing the answer mattered—to her and God. Finally, I said, “Because we need prayer warriors on the front line. So many are busy and forget to pray for us Christian soldiers. We depend on you.” I took a deep breath then continued. “When your purpose on earth is completed, God will take you Home.”

            She gently nodded but remained in my embrace. I sang a hymn to her, and she hummed along and seemed peaceful.

(The song was one you may listen to by copying and pasting this info into your browser:

When We See Christ (lyrics video) - song cover by Nelli Savchenko - YouTube

By Esther Kerr Rusthoi*)

            On the other side of the mountain from where Weezie lived was another elderly saint who prayed faithfully at her bedside even though, when doing so, it meant enduring physical pain. She’s the dear lady pictured here—a poignant image captured by her daughter.

            Here’s what this daughter shared about the photo: “Mom had fallen and made a mess of her knees. When she was ready for bed, I asked her not to kneel. I waited and went to check on her. This is what I found. She did this until shortly before she passed at 96.” —Nagatha Venters Anderson**

            Weezie, Nagatha’s momma, and so many others passed the years where they were able to do much physically, but they didn’t stop carrying folks like us in their hearts. I dare say we’d be in a greater struggle were it not for our prayer warriors.

            Maybe you’re an elderly person or a disabled one. Please know your usefulness isn’t over. No way! Your family and others need you on your knees (figuratively if you can’t do so physically) because we’re living in a world where spiritual battles take place around every corner.

            To you, precious prayer warriors, our heartfelt thanks! Not just for those vital prayers but for the testimony of faithfulness you’ve shown us. When you’re promoted to Glory, may others of us take your place. In the meantime, thank you for teaching us well.

“Lord, let me live from day to day in such a self-forgetful way,

That even when I kneel to pray my pray’r shall be for others…”

(from the hymn, “Others” by Charles D. Meigs—blind preacher, 1917, public domain)

#prayer #prayerwarriors #elderly #seniorcitizens #spiritualwarfare

 

*Copyright 1941, New Spring (ASCAP)—Brentwood-Benson Music Publishing, Inc.

**Photo & written account used with permission