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Learning to Love

June 21, 2019 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

What is the most difficult thing in the world for you to do?

Be patient with your kids? Always speak kindly to your husband? Exercise? Give generously? Eat healthy? Keep focused and on task? Stay away from social media?

Last week I read Patricia Raybon’s I Told the Mountain to Move. The hardest thing in the world for her was praying. She only learned to pray, really pray, after she turned 50 years old. Growing up in the colored Christian Methodist Episcopal church all her life, she knew how to shout Hallelujah and Thank you Jesus during the service. She knew how to smile pretty and shriek and holler when the others did. She loved all the stories about Jonah and the whale, Daniel in the lion’s den, Elijah and the raven, Jesus feeding the 5,000, but she figured God lived in church and in the Bible and when you got home you were on your own.

Patricia was a journalism professor at the University of Colorado for years; she is smart, she is witty, but she confesses that she didn’t know how to love because she didn’t know how to pray. But then some hard, serious stuff happened in her life and it became a necessity to pray. It is then she learned that praying is simply talking with God, having a running conversation with Him throughout the day. You just lean back in the moment and talk. As Ms. Raybon says:

Prayer is like that.

If you know what you are doing, it is like that.

If you know the One you are talking to, it is like that.

If your motives are right, it is like that.

Two good friends, just talking.

Patricia writes candidly about her family. Her mama, who she didn’t understand and often was misunderstood herself – mothers and daughters are sometimes like that. Her husband, from whom she had grown apart, become annoyed with and often made snarky comments to – I can identify with that. Her two daughters who had grown up, moved away and lived unlike their mother had taught them – yeah, it happens.

There are times she even uses the word hate when it comes to relating to some people in her life and some races who had oppressed her own.

Duty – that’s how Patricia names it – is what she had given to both her immediate and extended family. She thought it was love, but as she later realized it was barely affection, and to be honest, simply duty. But when her husband faced a life-threatening surgery – a fistula on his spinal cord causing paralysis – she threw herself into the lap of God. Her eyes were opened to the self-sufficient life she had been living, and she came boldly to her Lord, asking and opening herself up to his loving and eternal readiness to listen.

We are allowed to read passages from her prayer journal, complete with hard honest questions, grave accusations and yet immense gratitude. Her entries remind me of King David’s writing in the Psalms – intense emotional laments, strong accusations and yet assurance that God cares, has been faithful in the past and will continue to be in the future.

Was praying easy for her? No, it was some of the hardest work she had ever done in her life, but she read, she studied – eager to learn from the pray-ers who have gone before us and left their writings for us to learn. Sometimes her prayers were wordless groans, because words weren’t enough, they couldn’t express her soul’s longing and anguish.

Patricia explains that in spite of her own travail in praying for her husband who spent weeks in the hospital and months in rehab, she learned to love. She reached out to others in the crowded waiting rooms, those who were suffering – the mother whose son had swallowed Drano as a way out from his drug addiction, the Fat Family who were loud, obnoxious and rude. She loved them – I should say God gave her the heart and ability to love them. On her own she wanted to wallow in her own weariness and despair, but when she reached out to others who were hurting like she was, she found out she could love people, even people who annoyed her.

Amazingly this love she learned through prayer became a way of life for her. She learned to love her mama, her husband, and many others who she had previously only tolerated. Her relationships became filled with grace, joy and beauty. It took time, years actually, yet she has persevered and continues to pray boldly, always keeping her eyes focused on Jesus and the amazing way He has loved her.

We all have To-do lists, things we have to get done – some today, some tomorrow, some whenever. But Patricia started a new list and named it Give-to-God list. How wise and utterly freeing. Now if I can just remember, remember, remember to give my people, and all the details of my life to God. They are not mine to worry about, fret about, or even waste mental real estate thinking about.

So, I have started my Give-to-God list and it will continue to grow…

Many books I have previously read on prayer tend to deal with praying to get stuff and change people (including yourself of course) but Patricia plainly insists,

We don’t pray to get, we pray to love.

Thank you, Patricia. Because of you I am continually learning to pray, and it is slowly changing me.

God, help us all to be honest in our helplessness and hopeful in your Love.

Love, Mom

Lie Down and Rest

June 6, 2019 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

We arrived in Michigan a week ago, traveling four days from our Southern Idaho dwelling. Everything here is green, all shades of beautiful lush greens – millions of trees, thick dark grass, luxurious rolling pastures. As we were driving up U.S. 31 enjoying the spring-time greenery I thought of this verse from Psalm 23,

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

As you remember, Jesus calls Himself the Good Shepherd, which means we are compared to sheep in a metaphorical sense. Being equated to sheep is not necessarily a compliment because sheep are kinda stupid, they quickly stray, are quite dependent on others and easily frightened.

In order for sheep to lie down in peace they have need of a few important requirements. The first one is freedom from fear. Because sheep have a herd mentality, they are skittish and easily agitated. If even a little jack-rabbit hops from behind a bush and one startled sheep runs in fright, it can cause the entire flock to bolt into a stampede –the rest not even looking to see what caused the ruckus.

We too are easily carried away by fear if someone speaks terror or dread – whether it be true or false, real or imagined. It’s so easy to run with the herd, getting caught up in a mob mentality, simply reacting to the running of those around us.

Life is hazardous, unpredictable; no one knows what fears and anxieties any moment will bring. Usually it is the unexpected and unknown that throw us into a panic. Often our first impulse is to run from the harsh complexities of life – just like the sheep.

But if we look up, we’ll see our Good Shepherd waiting for us to turn to Him, desiring that we rest and not run. Admitting we cannot do life well on our own, he brings peace, calm and serenity – even in the midst of a terrible, horrible, no-good very bad day.

As I grow older, I am finally learning that no amount of worry, control or angst ever helped any problem I had. It only caused fear and dread. For years I tried to solve problems on my own, figure out and rely on my own wisdom, but rarely experienced the peace Jesus promised.

Why do we always think we can change people and our circumstances? Why is it so difficult to rest, to trust God to do his work in his time? When will we ever give up and relinquish our ambitions to do God’s work for him?

Only when we choose to rest.

Another source of fear from which a shepherd delivers his sheep is rivalry, cruel competition and tension within the flock. In the animal kingdom there is an established order of dominance, better known as a pecking order with chickens, a horning order with cattle, and a butting order among sheep.

Usually a domineering, arrogant old ewe will be the boss of a flock. She maintains her position by butting and driving other ewes or lambs away from the best grazing. Then in turn they will use the same tactics of butting and shoving around those who are lower than they on the totem pole.

Remember those days at school when kids played King of the Mountain? The game is probably outlawed by now, but I remember well when some strong kids would go up on a hill, others who were stronger would climb up, trying to shove and push them out of the way…

Well, I was driving around a few weeks ago and I saw the cattle version of the game, only in dairy corals it becomes Queen of the Manure Pile.

When there’s friction in the flock, the sheep cannot lie down in rest because they always have to be standing up to defend their rights and be on the lookout for safety. They feel the need to constantly be on alert, never able to let down their guard for fear of losing out on food and safety.

But as past-shepherd Phillip Keller says,

…one point that always interested me very much was that whenever I came into view and my presence attracted their attention, the sheep quickly forgot their foolish rivalries and stopped their fighting. The shepherd’s presence made all the difference in their behavior.

Somehow, when the guy in charge, on a much higher status than the sheep, comes on the scene, they forget the silly scuffling and struggle for status and lie down. Contentment and peace within the flock ensue.

How much that scene sounds like us humans. We try to appear as if we have it all together, put on that toothy smile and strike a confident pose, yet still we feel the need to prove ourselves – to others as well as to us. But when we keep our eyes on our Good Shepherd, we know we are on even ground with everyone else, that without the grace of God we would be lost – a ship without a rudder, the proverbial hamster on a wheel going round and round yet arriving nowhere.

When my eyes are on my Master, they are not on those around me. This is the place of peace, says Keller.

Jesus is so kind, so merciful to make us lie down in green pastures. On our own we would never do it because we’re too busy doing stuff. It’s only when we lie down and rest, trust him for tomorrow, and give thanks for what he is doing today, that we are content being in the silence of his presence.I have laid in green pastures more than I would like, but looking back I see it was only in this quiet, surrendered, helpless pose that He was able to get my attention on Him and off myself.

Lie down, look at your Shepherd and be at rest.

Love, Mom

…I Shall Not Want

April 28, 2019 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

I shall not want.

Do you ever have days when you are content, at peace, all is well, and the world is as you think it should be?

Or are more of your days filled with disappointment, frustration, wishing life would be peaceful and simple?

Three thousand years ago King David wrote The Lord is My Shepherd, I shall not want. It seems that if the first part of that sentence is accurate, then the second part would become true as well. I have recited those words hundreds of time, they are in the hard drive of my mind. But how often do I actually experience them?

I have many days when I do not want anything more than what I already have, especially when I read about refugees in Syria and Iraq, living for years in tent camps, waiting, always waiting for a day when they can return home. When I think about persecuted people around the world I tend to ask, Why do I have life so easy?

Then there are other times when I get focused on my wants, my desires, my hopes and dreams that have been dashed and mostly forgotten.

Because I have spent many more hours in bed than what I would have chosen during the past two months, I have been reading more. I started rereading The Lord of the Rings, and I love being caught up in the adventures of Frodo and Sam, Gandalf, the dwarves, elves, the ring-wraiths, the armies of orcs, Saruman, and various other characters of good and evil. I became immersed with their lives fraught with so much danger and uncertainty, struggles and battles, yet always faithfully walking forward toward their goal of delivering the Ring to where it belongs.

Sometimes the Fellowship of the Ring have plenty to eat, other days they tighten their belts and move on. Many days they walk near a sparkling stream, but they have intervals when they have to carry more pounds as they must pack canteens.

Yet they journey on because they have an important job to do. Yes, they occasionally have reprieves from their hardships as when they come to the Elves peaceful abode. Those are simply gifts given at a time when they absolutely need time to rest, to be restored in order to carry on with their assignment.

We are all on this journey called life. There are days, maybe weeks, when we are content – and then something happens that disturbs and annoys. An unexpected phone call or an unkind remark takes us down. Then what?

In order to truly say The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want, we need to be convinced about the character of our Shepherd. If we honestly believe Jesus is gracious, full of compassion, slow to anger, abounding in love and living inside us, then we can rest in peace, knowing He is doing all things well. We will struggle at times, just like Frodo and his fellowship, yet our Shepherd is always faithful and will continue to guide and walk with us on the journey.

But sometimes life circumstances shout louder than God’s voice.

A few weeks ago I was not at all content. I wanted health, I wanted energy and healing from a virus that knocked me flat for over a month. There were days I wondered if I’d ever be able to stay out of bed for more than a half hour at a time without wilting in fatigue. For a few days I began to doubt that God cared about me, I felt like I had been abandoned…again.

Over the years I have had skirmishes with such thoughts, but was hoping those days were gone. When our bodies don’t run properly it is easy to let our minds follow and believe our emotions over the facts we know are true.

One day during this dark time I received a package in the mail from my friend Ruth. In it was a picture she had painted, the stump of a tree with a green shoot growing out of it. I saw it and cried. It’s amazing how that one piece of art gave me hope again. I felt as though I was that cut off stump, yet with a little life still growing slowly but surely.

I had not been forgotten, God had been by my side the whole time. I had simply succumbed to self-pity and hopelessness instead of looking at the truth of who He is.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Psalm 34:18

If those words are true, then I shall not want – not ever. I love how Lysa TerKeurst puts it:

Your job is to be obedient to Me. My job is everything else.

All Jesus asks is that we trust Him. We don’t have to figure everything out, try to control those around us or work to manipulate our circumstances. He is good, His love endures forever, He has promised to never leave us or forsake us. And that is the Truth.

Now that I am climbing out of yet another dark pit of illness, I have been reminded once again to always trust and not despair.

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want,

I shall not want,

I shall not want.

Let that be my mantra, even in the dark.

Love, Mom

Unplanned

April 8, 2019 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Dad and I went to see the film Unplanned yesterday. I read Abby Johnson’s book by the same name when it came out in 2010 and was fascinated with her story, so was pleased when I heard it was coming out on the big screen.

Abby had been working at a Planned Parenthood Clinic for 8 years, first as a volunteer escort, then working her way up to become the Director of her clinic in Texas – becoming the youngest clinic director in Planned Parenthood history. She was good at her job, managing the clinic orderly and efficiently and truly believed she was helping women in a time of need. However, she had never been in an actual procedure room during an abortion. Although she herself had two abortions when younger, she had never seen an ultrasound picture during a procedure. But when she was asked to assist the doctor and visually seeing the reaction of the unborn baby on the screen while being suctioned, her eyes were opened to the reality of what she was promoting.

Amazingly, her husband and parents were never in agreement with her choice of a career, but continued to love and pray for her.

Shortly before she decided to leave her job, she had come home from work with blood on her shoes. Her daughter who was five at the time, asked why. Abby replied, Oh, a lady at work had a bloody nose, so I had to help her with it.

The question of a young child, and the lie that was used to cover it up, became a small part of the choice she made to leave the clinic.

Although Dad and I had planned to eat at our favorite restaurant after the movie, our plans changed. I became nauseous and had no appetite when the movie was over. Issues which seem to be purely political become much more personal when stories like Unplanned are told. It was a beautiful story of redemption in Abby’s life, yet has angered many people who don’t agree with her choice for life.

I applaud Abby for telling her story, even though she knew it would make her an enemy of many who don’t want it to be told.

After the movie, we chatted with the couple who was sitting next to us as the theatre was clearing out. They were probably about our age, she having to use two canes to help her walk. She told us that she had volunteered at the local crisis pregnancy center for 15 years and loved working there. Although she has the desire to continue to work, she is unable because of her difficulty of walking. I admire her for her willingness to be an encouragement to many young women.

I was reminded yesterday of a verse reminding me that God is pro-choice. In Deuteronomy 30:19 Moses writes:

This day… I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live….

It was a good evening out, but emotionally exhausting for me. I hope you are able to watch it sometime as well.

Love, Mom

Sheep and Shepherds

February 28, 2019 / Shari Baar / 4 Comments

February is lambing season here in Idaho. The other day I stopped to walk a fence line, part of a pen housing hundreds of them, hoping to take some pictures. I climbed out of the car and suddenly heard a cacophony of bleating, baa-ing and other unintelligible sheep sounds from the flock. I had no idea they were so noisy, but I guess when sheep are hungry they make a lot of racket.

Interestingly, I’ve been reading A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, written by a former shepherd. The author, Phillip Keller, grew up in East Africa, surrounded by simple native herders, similar to their counterparts in the Middle East. As a young man he made his own livelihood for eight years as a sheep owner and rancher, so he had great knowledge of the habits and behavior of sheep. Although Keller died 20 years ago, for decades he traveled the world as a nature photographer and agronomist – an expert in soil management and crop production.

Psalm 23 has always been a favorite of mine, I memorized it while still a child and have never forgotten the words. I used to think it was just a quaint quiet poem, but after reading Keller’s book plus living half a century myself and meditating on those words, it has become a bedrock of my life.

The Lord is my Shepherd. A simple sentence of just five words, yet

It immediately implies a profound yet practical working relationship between a human being and his Maker. It links a lump of common clay to divine destiny – it means a mere mortal becomes the cherished object of divine diligence. – Phillip Keller

That in itself seems almost too good to be true. Our secular scientists and philosophers have repeatedly told us that we are alone and on our own in this universe. But this five-word sentence tells us that we matter, we are not an accident, we have worth and immense value.

It’s interesting that we as human beings are referred to as sheep many times in the Bible. We could have been likened to dogs, rabbits, birds, lions or any other creature, but Jesus calls himself our shepherd, which infers we are like sheep. Unfortunately, sheep are not known for their brains or their bravery – maybe in part because they have no fighting skills. They are one of the few animals in the world who cannot defend themselves. They have no claws, no warring teeth, they can neither jump high nor fly away. Their only defense is to flee. They are skittish, easily frightened and tend to wander away if the shepherd doesn’t pay careful attention to them.

Because there are many kinds of shepherds there are many kinds of sheep. Some shepherds are gentle, kind, selfless and brave in their devotion to their flock and their care is reflected in the health and well-being of the sheep. The Lord claims to be the Good Shepherd. He bestows on us value, dignity and care.

There are other shepherds who claim to be good, but the sheep of those shepherds are usually striving, anxious, trying to find their own way because they can’t trust their shepherd to care enough to stay around, treat them with respect or give them the attention they need.

Recently I ordered a new pair of glasses. When I went to pick them up I tried them on, as one always does. But when I tried to read that boring information card, things were a little blurry. I thought perhaps my eyes were just tired, so I took them home. But when I got home I tried them again and words were still fuzzy and indistinct. So I put them on upside-down and voila! Everything was clear. I took them back to the store and told them what I suspected. They used their little gizmo to test the lenses, then told me that indeed they had been installed opposite of what they should have been. Since one of my eyes is 2.0, and the other 2.5, each eye had an improper lens. Now with the lenses in their proper places, I can read with ease and clarity.

Sometimes we see life through improper lenses. If we see life through the lens of our Good Shepherd, we will be content with whatever comes our way, fighting the good fight of faith, knowing that ultimately God will use all things, good and bad, for our growth and well-being. We can trust him.

But if we see God through the improper lens, showing him as a bad or nonexistent Shepherd – that he is harsh, demanding, always disappointed in us and quick to anger – we will be fearful, feel abandoned, and hopeless. Through this lens he is not trustworthy. Although these are lies, we perceive them as truth.

Look through the true lens of the Good Shepherd, the Lord who made heaven and earth. Even when we as sheep are prone to wander, sometimes a little smelly and complaining, he remains the same – Good.

Love, Mom

The Art of Pruning

January 22, 2019 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

The trees in the garden are empty, bare and seemingly lifeless. Just a few months ago we had people coming to fill their bags with fruit – cherries, plums, apples and pears. Now the trees are just skeletons of what was, a faint remembrance of the harvest, and a looking forward to the green coming in the spring.

Today Ralph the tree trimmer came around, he who prunes the trees every winter so the harvest can again be plentiful. I watch him loping, stripping and cutting – it seems so brutal to hack off branches – as he literally removes yards of excess growth, shaping and sculpting each tree.

Last spring Grandpa had a guy come to look at his rose garden because the bushes seemed to be waning. He told us,

Just cut ‘em back, you can never prune too much,

as he hacked away at those bushes. Not being much of a gardener myself, I was appalled at how swift and dogmatic he was about his work. But in spite of my surprise at his apparently careless ways, the roses came back more beautiful than ever.

Grandpa grows gorgeous grapes as well. The vines are old, gnarled and ugly. Every spring he cuts back all the flowing vines from the previous year and they look hopelessly stunted. Yet just six months later they produce several hundred pounds of luscious grapes.

There’s an inner life of all trees, roses and grapes called the sap, the lifeblood of all. During the winter the sap does not go into the roots but continues to live in the branches, it simply stops flowing for a season. So, when we see those outwardly dead-looking-yet living plants in the winter, they are simply resting, waiting again for their season to bear fruit.

Although there seems to be a harshness to pruning, it really is an act of kindness, care and concern. You have probably observed overgrown, dense and untidy bushes and trees which haven’t been tended, some with broken off branches and generally looking unkempt, wild and unruly. The trees are not attractive, nor do they bear much fruit.

So, I was reading the other day about how God prunes us. I love the imagery, of Jesus being the vine and we the branches attached and connected to Him. God cuts off the dead branches and throws them out, he prunes them simply because he loves and cares for us. It may feel mean and uncaring, but because he is an excellent gardener his actions are totally out of love – a love we sometimes don’t understand. Jesus said that if we abide in and stay connected to Him, we will bear much fruit, for apart from Him we can do nothing.

I remember decades ago when I read that verse thinking I can do plenty without him. I can vacuum the floors, take a walk, balance my checkbook and I don’t need his help with any of that. Then suddenly I was struck with the thought

I can’t even take a breath without You.

How stunningly arrogant to think I can live in my own power, keeping my own body alive and functioning. He is the author of life, and my entire existence is dependent upon Him.

Anyway, back to the pruning. As I was considering how God prunes us to become more like him, I came upon a beautiful quote by Bob Goff.

God isn’t always leading us to the safest route forward,

but to the one where we’ll grow the most.

If we want to grow well, we must be willing to be pruned well. Pruning can look a lot like difficult circumstances coming into our lives. You know those times that are annoying, disrupting, and unexpected – not what we signed up for? Those people who are annoying, uninvited, and rough around the edges? These are the times he is pruning us, drawing us to Himself, encouraging us to let Him live through us, depending on His strength and not our own. This life is simply too hard to go it alone.

The fruit of the Holy Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control. Logically, fruit grows naturally and without effort with sunshine and water, right? I’ve never seen grapevines strive to grow, apple trees groan as they try hard to produce fruit. They just grow if they are connected to the life blood of the tree – the sap.

Consider the lilies of the field, says Jesus. They do not labor or spin,

yet not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.

Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

When you look at apple trees, grape vines or rose bushes you will never see them strain, worry or fret about bearing flowers or fruit, they just abide in the vine. How simple and beautiful.

So how do we abide in the vine? We invite Jesus to love when we cannot, forgive when it hurts too much, allow His kindness to reach out to those who are difficult to care for. I know that in my own strength I cannot love well, but when I am weak, He is strong. And, I might add, I am weak most of the time – but it’s ok because I don’t have to do it all. I can rest in Him and let His lifeblood flow through me.

You know that the only way to become stronger physically is to work out – lift weights, walk, do pull-ups, push-ups, and all those other tried and true exercises. And obviously the heavier the weights the stronger the muscles become. We don’t get strong by lifting feathers. So too, the way we bear fruit is by loving the hard to love, learning to be patient when we’d rather lash out, being gentle to the brash.

Somedays I fail, somedays you fail. We all have those winter times when we don’t see much growth in ourselves. But as Sara Hagerty says:

The tree prospers in winter, fulfilling its God-intended purpose.

Though, to the unknowing eye, it sure looks barren.

Jesus is the Master Gardener and He does all things well. Keep on abiding in the vine; springtime will come, and you will bear much fruit.

Love, Mom

Wondering…

January 1, 2019 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

I just got back from a short walk outside, a few ice crystals flitting through the air and catching light from the house windows, sparkling in the darkness. I often sing as I walk, and tonight my song became I Wonder As I Wander.

I wonder as I wander out under the sky,

That Jesus our Savior did come for to die,

For poor, ornery people like you and like I.

I wonder as I wander, out under the sky…

It has long been a favorite of mine – the minor key, the wondering why, the haunting melody, the pensive mood of the entire song. Wondering is good to do. Remember when we were young? We used to take time to wonder, think and ponder. Grandpa has been one who has encouraged me to renew that discipline. He often sits outside in the sun, studies the clouds, the jets overhead – wondering where they are headed – paying careful attention to his windsock and all the levels and layers of the clouds, as he pets his dog and three cats lining up for attention.

Lately I have been wondering and pondering the seemingly upside-down kingdom of God.

Our American culture of busyness tells us to

hurry up and get things done

be productive to prove yourself valuable

try to control your small world

figure life out all by yourself

not depend on anyone else

be wary, because you’re on your own

seek approval from people

worry at all times

keep on carrying that heavy burden yourself

…and hopefully after all that we will be loved – loved by people, perhaps even be loved by God.

But the exact opposite is true if we really believe God means what he says. For starters,

He says He dearly loves you, just as you are

He says you are intrinsically valuable

He tells you to rest.

Yes, to do your work, but also take time and be still

To love those who are around you every day

To be honest

He tells us to seek Him for direction because He possesses all wisdom.

He tells us to wonder, to marvel at the life he lived while on earth.

He promises to live inside us supernaturally when we open the door of our heart

To trust that no matter what bad things happen to us, God will use them for good.

To cast all our care on Him.

And yet we are such ornery people, as the song says, that we often choose the former list instead of the latter. The logical outcome of the former is devastating for everyone involved.

I know because I have lived it.

When we seek people’s approval instead of believing God’s love is enough, we tend to put unrealistic expectations on the relationships we have. No human being can fulfill our deepest desires, no person is able to carry such a heavy responsibility. Although many relationships will be harmed, one of the more obvious casualties of those expectations in relationships is marriage.

If we were told before entering a room that we were going into a honeymoon suite, then walked into a typical Super 8 Motel room, we would be upset and possibly outraged.

On the other hand, if we were told the room we were about to walk into was a jail cell, and it looked like a Super 8 room, we would be elated.

Expectations kill relationships, says Ann Voskamp.

Our ornery human selves are self-centered, always thinking about me, me, me – what will make me happy? Who will give me the strokes I need? I need to watch out for #1 – Me.

The author Dan Stone says:

Marriage is meant to press you into God, not to provide you bliss.

Press me into God? Now that is certainly not the reason I got married. I was under the impression that marriage was supposed to provide me with a person who would fulfill me – physically, emotionally – and most of all – to make me blissfully happy all the day. But It didn’t take long to see the false hopes of that happily ever after dream and watch it vanish.

It turns out that what I thought – and what our general culture believes – is directly opposed to God’s view of marriage. If I put my own desires and needs in the center of my world, expecting my husband to fulfill me in every way, marriage is sure to disappoint, cause quarrels, disillusion my view of romance, and expose my ugly self-centered nature.

Tim Keller gives an interesting analogy:

Our solar system has a sun at the middle with many planets orbiting around it, beautifully and orderly. Consider what would happen if each planet suddenly desired to be the center of the universe, becoming jealous of the sun. Can you imagine what kind of chaos would ensue? In a short time there would be destruction and annihilation as each globe demanded to be the center of attention. Gone would be the order and beauty, gone would be the universe.

When we follow Jesus’ example and learn to love and serve others instead of putting our self at the center of life, we can rest, quit striving and trust that when others fail and disappoint us, He is there to fall upon, to lean on, knowing that the story isn’t finished yet. The best is always yet to come. We can learn to be content to orbit around the Son, teaching others to do the same.

The wonder of His love for we who are ornery is so amazing.

Fall on your knees, let God love you so you can love those around you.

Love, Mom

One Thing New

November 12, 2018 / Shari Baar / 4 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Several decades ago, Aunt Val gave me a cutting board she made in high school woodshop. She had carefully cut out thin strips of various types of wood, glued them together, varnished them and proudly given it to me on my birthday. I have chopped countless vegetables, fruits, nuts, and meats on that faithful board, but there came a time when I started using thin plastic cutting boards for ease of cleaning and storing.

One day Dad found that well-worn cutting board in the pile going to Goodwill and took it out because he had an idea of making it into something new. As you know, I have been annoyed in past years when Dad wants to save things I would rather throw out or give away. I’m sure I made some snide remark when he told me he was going to save it for a project because, of course, we all know about his black hole of unfinished projects in the basement. What goes in never comes out. I quickly dismissed the incident from my mind.

Oh me of little faith.

Several months later he showed me his completed project. From that worn out, cut up, beat up board he had made a beautiful table for my plants. I was quite impressed. Over the years that board had become so ugly, splinters coming off the edges, dull and useless (so I thought) but now it was transformed into a striking piece of art.

For over 15 years now it has faithfully held my favorite green ivy plant, curling and twisting around. About the same time I put the ivy on this plant stand someone gave me a little decorative tile to stick in the dirt. I really didn’t look at the words imprinted on the stick, I just put it in the dirt because I liked the colors. Recently though, I looked at that transformed cutting board and the words on the stick.

I make all things new.

Revelation 21:5

I will admit, sometimes I am a very slow learner. It takes years after I assent to something intellectually to make it a habit in my life. Looking at the previously battered cutting board now transformed into a new thing along with the scripture in the ivy, I finally realized that this is precisely what’s happening in me and my family. I used to be ungrateful, critical, quick to find fault with people. But through many years of God’s faithful chiseling on my personality, I am learning to become thankful for the good gifts He gives every day. I have learned to encourage and build up instead of criticize and tear down. I seek to search out the good in people instead of focusing on the annoying traits. Of course I still stumble and fall, but I feel like I am continually becoming a new person.

All through the Bible, from beginning to end, in story after story, God is making all things and people new. Look at Joseph, the self-centered, arrogant teenager bragging to his brothers about the dreams he’s dreamed. God didn’t just say, Now you shape up, get humble and quit bragging about those dreams. Instead, God allowed circumstances in his life to humble him. Tough circumstances like sitting in prison for many years, serving for a crime he didn’t commit. Suffering worked humility into him, so well that he was later able to forgive his brothers for all the evil they had shown toward him.

And then there’s Moses. As the young Prince of Egypt, he was ready to swoop in to help his fellow Israelites escape their cruel slave masters by murdering one of them. Again, God didn’t just give him a stern lecture, telling him to change. He provided 40 years as a shepherd on the back side of a desert in order to humble and fashion him into someone who would eventually become a fearless, humble leader.

This is God’s way. He is never in a hurry, but patiently, consistently and gently provides circumstances, bringing us to the end of ourselves and opening our eyes to our need for Him. Every day is a new day, as he is molding us to be more like Him. Just like an artist, he chisels and creates us to be like His gracious personality. And the really cool thing is when just one person starts becoming new, it becomes infectious to others in the vicinity.

Of course, marriage is a major chiseling tool for God to bring changes into our personality.

For a time I felt like Dad’s and my relationship had become battered, worn and dull. But when I invited God to help me love, teach me to respect, and speak the language of peace and forgiveness, He began to make our marriage new. So………even if you feel like your marriage is beat up, full of slivers, and just plain worn out – never fear. God makes all things new, as long as you let Him have His way with you.

As Tim Keller wisely says:

In some mysterious way, troubles and suffering refine us like gold and turn us,

inwardly and spiritually, into something beautiful and great.

Accept with an open hand whatever comes your way, trusting your Heavenly Father who has the love and wisdom to mold you into his likeness.

Love, Mom

Pioneers

October 17, 2018 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Remember all those Little House on the Prairie Books we used to read when you were young? They are still the favorites of many kids once they start reading chapter books.

One day many decades ago, I was in the fiction section at the library and remember seeing the Laura Ingalls Wilder books stored there. I recall being surprised and saddened because reading them as a child I thought they were true history. In later years I learned that though many incidents were based on truth, some were romanticized and not entirely accurate.

That’s a bit like marriage. Before we get married we have some silly notion that we will live happily ever after. Then when we get past the promises made at the altar we learn that we married someone with a history and his history doesn’t quite match my history, his opinions are often the opposite of mine, and some days it feels like I’m out on the prairie with a stranger.

Not far from here are the remains of the Oregon Trail, created by some brave pioneers back in the mid 1800’s. I drove out there the other day, wondering what it must have been like traveling cross country in a covered wagon, blazing a trail. I imagined cooking over an open fire every night, taking a bath in the Snake River on the warm days, boiling water on the cold days. Day after day with blue skies, scorching heat, dust and bitter cold wind. Foraging and hunting for food every day, always on the lookout for potential danger. It makes me feel like a wimp as I drive 80 mph down our beautiful Idaho freeway.

An excerpt from one pioneer woman’s diary reads like this:

Early in January of 1849 we first thought of emigrating to California. It was a period of national hard times and we…longed to go to the new El Dorado and “pick up” gold enough with which to return and pay off our debts…

It was with considerable apprehension that we started to traverse the treeless, alkali region of the Great Basin…Our wagons were badly worn, the animals much the worse for wear, food and stock feed was getting low with no chance of replenishing the supply…It was no unusual sight to see graves, carcasses of animals and abandoned wagons. In fact, the latter furnished us with wood for the campfires as the sagebrush was scarce and unsatisfactory…

…like every other pioneer I’d love to live over again, in memory, those…months and revisit, in fancy, the scenes of the journey.

– Catherine Haun, A Woman’s Trip Across the Plains in 1849.

A trip of 1600 miles – taking seven months – and Catherine still loving to remember the journey is amazing to me. I wonder if the simple fact that she and her family decided to take a journey, and promising to persevere together was part of the reason she could look back on the harrowing expedition with fondness. There was no turning back, only forging ahead.

It seems that when we look over our marriages, and see what we’ve come through – enjoying the good times and persevering through the hard – gives a great sense of satisfaction. Yes, sometimes it’s tempting to bail, but to come through difficult times with marriage promises intact is certainly something to celebrate, simply because we continued to press on with tenacity to our destination of oneness.

It seems that whether you live in a rain forest, a desert, in New York City or in the Caribbean, the human heart always comes into play whenever two people commit to one another for life. No matter what time period or which location you live, Tim Keller says there are always basic decisions we must make:

Do we choose to be selfish or serving?

Will we worry about our todays and our tomorrows,

or will we trust that God loves us, that He will always provide?

Are we going to seek revenge or resolve to forgive?

Will we choose to tell the truth, or play around with the facts?

The way we answer those questions is, quite honestly, a good indicator of whether we will stay married or not.

My favorite current music group – for King and Country – has a beautiful song they recently recorded along with their wives.

Pioneers

I am here, you are there, lying side by side

Out of touch, out of reach, in the great divide

Parallel lives.

Hear the rain, count the drops on the window pane,

Wide awake, stale mate, why do we play this game?

Oh God, I hate this game

Throw open the doors

You know my heart is yours

What are we waiting for?

Let’s be pioneers

And we’ll build our home

In the great unknown

Let’s be pioneers

…Let’s forgive and let’s forgive again

I’m reaching out to my sweetest friend

Can we start again?

One of my favorite things about living a life for Jesus is that we can always start again. Even if we’ve screwed up stupidly, as far as the East is from the West, he’s forgiven us. Every morning, each sunrise is another chance to love better, forgive more deeply, open our hearts to God and each other… and begin again.

There are many times I have been disappointed in life. But often my disappointment has stemmed from the lie I had believed – that God had let me down. I have had certain expectations for my life – which I assumed God shared – and when those expectations failed to materialize I became angry, discouraged and depressed.

Tim Keller also speaks about disappointment with God. He teaches that when we become despondent, always remember:

God has not let me down.

My plan has let me down.

So many times I have mistakenly identified God with my plan. God’s interpretation of my life is often different from mine. Obviously, God has the best plan and he sees the beginning and the end so he knows the many twists and turns my life will take, and he has promised to walk the path with me. What may seem like a detour for me is actually part of the trail, part of the path I need to be on in order to become more loving, tenacious and strong. God will never let me down, and he will not let you down. We are all pioneers, going forward on this Marriage Trail, one step at a time.

Today is a whole new day, a fresh new beginning, and with it always, always, comes hope.

Love, Mom

The Dash

September 27, 2018 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Today I played piano at the funeral of Gertie who lived to be 98 ½ years old. I had only met her once – several years ago – but from what I gather she was full of life and love. One of her granddaughters said she was like the energizer bunny, she just kept going and going and going…

Gertie lived from 1920 – 2018. As the pastor mentioned, a lot of life happened in that dash between her birth year and her year of passing. He spoke of her love for life, how she had for years given and given as she helped cared for her six younger siblings, eventually raising her own family. The joy she brought to children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even a few great-great grandchildren was obviously a large sum.

When four of the great-granddaughters spoke of their memories there were sniffles heard throughout the congregation, young men remembering her delicious homemade dinners, small children loving how she took time and care with each of them, friends musing about their hours together – memories of love and laughter. Whenever someone would leave her home after visiting she would say,

Come again soon, don’t wait too long!

It’s good to go to funerals, to remember the brevity of our own lives. It’s probably even a good idea to think of our own life backward: pondering what people might say at our funeral, then striving to live up to those images.

Gertie loved Jesus, and her life reflected that love as she continually cheered others on, encouraging the weak, playing games with the children – and always with a smile on her face.

As the slide show of Gertie’s life in pictures rolled on, the song I Can Only Imagine played in the background followed by Johnny Cash’s I Walk the Line.

As I left the church my heart was full. Even though I hadn’t known her, I loved her zest for life, her tenacity for joy, and I rejoiced that God created such a woman and that she, in turn, chose to be faithful and true, learning to live life to the fullest. She was an outstanding giver, but in later years she learned to become a receiver. Although she was still in exercise classes at the gym well into her 90’s, she eventually learned to receive help from others.

The first thing Danica said when she walked into the house this afternoon for her piano lesson was, “I’ve memorized part of I Can Only Imagine!” She’s only had the song one week, but obviously loves it. I mentioned that I heard it played at a funeral just that morning and she immediately replied “That’s a great song for a funeral, but it’s a good song anytime.” Indeed it is.

We never know how long any of us have to live on this earth, but I long to fill my dash with giving well, graciously receiving, and living a life of joy.

Love, Mom

Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice,

and no one will take away your joy.

John 16:22

Branches and Trees

Page 11 of 22

Learning to Love

Lie Down and Rest

…I Shall Not Want

Unplanned

Sheep and Shepherds

The Art of Pruning

Wondering…

One Thing New

Pioneers

The Dash

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