Living Intentionally

Sunday the sermon addressed the admonition in Eph. 5:15 "Be very careful, then, how you live--not as unwise, but as wise, making the most of every opportunity..."  The pastor noted that "life is so daily"--we get so wrapped up in work, errands, household duties that we do not take time to consider the significance of each day, of each interaction with others.  He also shared that the Greek word used here for opportunity is kairos, which indicates time charged with potential or opportunity that must be siezed.  Do I see life as charged with potential?  When I realize the opportunity before me do I seize it?  I am guilty of plowing through life just looking at the next thing before me instead of seeing the opportunities God sets up all around me and responding.  Reading the paper Monday morning, I was confronted with the reality of this;  I read about the passing of a friend dealing with cancer.  I had thought of her often and prayed for her, but I had not called recently and now it is too late. I had the opportunity but did not seize it.  I grieve for her passing, for her family, though I know she is celebrating with the Savior.  I do not want to miss what God intends for me to be part of; I want to respond to the opportunities He places before me instead of merely reacting to the dayliness of life.  I need to listen carefully and stay close to Him. Oh, may I be intentional about living!

Spiritual Heritage

My mother's father was a strong believer in Jesus and his atoning sacrifice.  He raised seven children during the Depression, my mother being the youngest at four, after losing his wife in childbirth with their eighth baby. He spent time reading God's Word, praying, and trusting God to see him through the difficulties he faced raising his family.  He passed this trust in God on to his children who shared their faith with the next generation.

My mother went to Pepperdine and Biola colleges where she received further Bible teaching.  Her favorite was an Old Testament class taught by J. Vernon McGee.  She said he made these passages come to life.  She married my dad and moved to the Wyoming ranch where fellowship and Bible study were not as readily available as her times in college.  They attended her family church thirty-five miles away, a General Conference Baptist, or Swedish Baptist church for a number of years. Her outreach in ministry was the Bible school she organized for the rural community families. Over the years my dad grew in his understanding of his walk with God and provided a strong spiritual partnership with my mother.  He taught a boys Sunday school class for quite awhile and served as a role model for these boys and for us as a family.

Going to church and being a Christian was an accepted part of my life.  At five, I asked Jesus to be my savior in response to many Bible stories I had heard and specifically in response to what my mother had shared with me.  I did not understand all that this meant at the time, but I did know that Jesus loved me and wanted me to accept his gift of salvation and eternal life. I continued to attend Sunday school and church, vacation Bible School and church camp. When I was eleven, I decided to be baptized and join the church.   In high school I participated in Youth for Christ where I had fellowship with other Christian teenagers and solid teaching from the leaders.  I was surrounded in my growing up years with this Christian influence.

When I went to college, there were many of my Christian friends on campus, and I participated in Inter Varsity Christian Fellowship where I made many new friends.  However, I lived in the dorm and was surrounded by many people who did not share my faith.  Their values were quite different from what I had grown up with and I began to wonder if my faith was based on truth or just tradition.  During my freshman year, I struggled with determining where I stood with my belief in Jesus. I came to the firm conviction that what the Bible said was true and I wanted to live my life based on my relationship with Jesus.

 I value the Christian heritage I have and  the impact it had on my growing-up years.  But I also realize that I had to make it mine--each generation does.  God does not have grandchildren.  Each of us must decide for ourselves where we stand in relation to Jesus' invitation to believe.  We have shared our faith with our children and now we have grandchildren.  I pray fervently for their walk with God and their salvation.

Summertime Activities

Summer on the ranch growing up meant swim lessons and music lessons in town for the cousins and our family.  My mom and two aunts would take turns being the chauffeur for the group. The younger kids would stay at home with the mom who wasn't making the trip to town. The five oldest kids all played an instrument:  Bob played the tuba, Dick the trumpet, I played the flute, Don the clarient and Dave the saxaphone.  In the summer, the band director wanted everyone to come to sectionals at which our individual instrument group practiced the music.  Since we all played a different instrument, we all had different times we needed to be at school.  Later my brother learned play the trombone and my sister the French horn, but they were not old enough at the time to be part of this adventure.

We all also took swimming lessons, which were sandwiched between the different music lesson times. The high school swimming pool was quite a step up from messing around in the muddy pond in the pasture after an occasional big rain. Needless to say, it made for a hectic schedule for the mom in town with five kids in one car (and we did not have SUVs or minivans). We all packed a lunch and ate in the park between lessons; fast food was not a way of life then. But the cousins loved being together since there was no school for socializing. Everyone was tired on the ride home and having been in the pool we were all a little damp squeezed together in the car with a trunk full of instruments (except the tuba which stayed at school).

When we were in high school and old enough to drive, we would go to town together to practice in the band for marching in the three Frontier Days parades. This happened in the evening when it was cooler and kids were more available.  Again, we enjoyed interacting with each other and with our friends from school, especially as teenagers we were quite interested in the opposite sex.  We would practice the music and marching up and down the shady tree-lined streets of the neighborhood around school.  Marching in a straight line and turning the corners with precision while playing your instrument took concentration.  I played the piccalo in the marching band and loved playing the Sousa marches, especially Stars and Stripes Forever.

I enjoyed the change of pace from ranch life and the chance to get be around other kids in the summer as I am sure even the kids in town did.