The Rooster Keeps on Crowing
10 Apr 2012 6 Comments
Have you ever had a song, or smell, or sound which brings to mind such a vivid memory that the emotions or feelings associated with it are almost tangible? I have. Trains whistles have been a recent trigger for me. I was lying in bed in the early morning hours this week with the windows open. We live about a mile or so, as the crow flies, from the railway that runs between the Port of Balboa on the Pacific side and Colon on the Caribbean side of Panama. In the still morning air the sound of a train whistle drifted into our bedroom, and I had a flashback of being in my childhood home in Bryceville. In my mind’s eye I could see the rooms of the house, my pets, and the smell of my grandmother’s fried chicken. Train whistles were daily part of my life there, and always bring up emotions associated with home. But this blog isn’t about trains, it’s about roosters.
Earlier this year we had the opportunity to go and stay in the small island community of Bocas del Toro on the Western side of Panama. The house we rented backed up to a fishing village. Every morning, about an hour before sunrise, just when you should be getting your best sleep, a rooster would start crowing. He would not stop once he started, and would continue to crow off and on every few minutes. So it would wake you up once, and then about the time you would go back to sleep, it would crow again… repeat process until you finally got out of bed and the sounds of the day began to drown it out. Most mornings that week, I thought about my Grandmother’s fried chicken and wondered if I could duplicate the recipe.
I’ve been thinking a lot about roosters the last few of days. Being Easter time, my mind keeps going back to the story of the crucifixion. Funny, we usually associate Easter with bunnies and baby chicks, but not roosters. The trip to Bocas taught me something about those “Welcome the Dawn in the Most Obnoxious Way Possible” birds, which I think has a lot of relevance to the story of Good Friday, and Easter.
Those who know the Bible may guess where I’m going with this. I’m talking about Peter, and his infamous rooster. Peter, the most zealous disciple of Christ, the one who assured Jesus at the last supper that he would never deny Him, never leave Him, and would fight to the death if necessary. I’m sure that he did not believe the Lord for a second when He looked at him, and almost speaking as to a child said, “Peter, the rooster will not crow today until you have denied three times that you know Me.” Peter must have thought that Jesus had NO CLUE what He was talking about to even think such a thing.
For a short time that evening it seems as if Peter was making good on his promises. He cut off the ear of one of the people that arrested Jesus. He then is the only disciple brave enough to follow Him to the High Priests house. He actually sits with the officers. Then he hears that Christ is going to be put to death and something changed. Even though Christ told Peter that He was going to be crucified, I don’t think he believed it would actually happen. Jesus could not be killed. He was the messiah! Peter’s faith began to falter. Then the denials came. Maybe the first one was just a white lie to gain him time to figure out what to do. It shouldn’t count because he had only lied to a servant girl, right? Jesus seemed doomed, what could he do? Now more people are accusing Peter of being a disciple of Christ. He wonders if he is next to be arrested. How can he help Him if he’s captured too? Fear engulfs Peter, self preservation kicks in. The crowds press in around him, pointing, accusing. Peter, screaming, cursing, yelling… denying. Then it happened, just before day break, the rooster crowed, and I’m sure the sound was a knife into his heart.
Have you ever betrayed someone? Or at least been talking poorly or mocking someone, only to realize they are standing right behind you and have heard the entire thing? I’ve sadly done that before, and the guilt and shame were as if someone had slugged me in the stomach. Now image the pain if the person you love most in this world, who is about to be put to death, just overhead you say, with curses, that you don’t even know who they are, and those will be the last words they will EVER hear you say. You lock eyes with them for just a second and see their eyes, still filled with love for you, now mingled with pain, and a look that says…”I told you.” I’m sure Peter’s denial was much more painful to Jesus than the kiss of Judas had been. The Bible says that when the rooster crowed Peter glanced up and saw Jesus looking at him. The emotional agony of that visual interchange had to be overwhelming. Peter wept, sobbed. I know those sobs. The ones where you feel like your insides are going to come out. Where you pray they might, just to ease your pain.
Most people, when they betray someone at least have the chance to say “I’m sorry” and “Please forgive me”, at some point. For Peter and Jesus there was no time for to talk. No resolution. No closure for Peter. There was just pain. Christ was crucified that same day. As far as Peter knew his final moments with Christ would forever be his own denial and betrayal.
I’m sure many of us like to think, “I would never deny Christ! Even if it meant my own death”! Gee…. That sounds familiar. Yet we do deny Him, DAILY. How? Do we actually shout out “I don’t know Jesus!!”? Not in so many words. However, we deny Him by our actions and deeds all the time. D.C. Talk, in their song, ‘What if I Stumble’, has the most profound quote at the beginning of the song. It states simply, “The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians, who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door and deny him by their lifestyle. That is what and unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.” And when our lifestyle runs counter to the life of Christ, and it is painful brought to our attention, then we suddenly know the depth of our denial. Many people are sadly so far removed from their relationship with Christ that the revelation no longer pains them. But a few of us hear the rooster crow, lock eyes with our Savior, let our failure rip our heart out, and we realize how unworthy we are of him.
Let’s get back to Peter. We do not know for sure if he was at the crucifixion. The only disciple mentioned in scripture as being present is John. John had run away from Christ the previous morning too, but he at least showed up. I don’t think Peter could. He was ashamed, heartbroken. The last thing his best friend, brother, and Lord had heard him say on this Earth were curses about how he didn’t know him, and there was nothing he could do to change that. Peter hears from others that Christ has died and has been buried. Does he sleep that night? I seriously doubt it.
Then, early in the morning on Saturday, just before dawn, before he can hope in the fuzzy moment between dreaming and consciousness that it all was just a horrible nightmare, he hears it…”Cock-a-doodle-doo!!” The pain of the previous morning’s betrayal washes over him like a dark, unforgiving, heavy, wave. “ NOOOOOOOO!!! Jesus is dead, I failed Him, I denied him, I am worthless.” Sunday morning, again…”Cock-a-doodle-doo!!” Still more heart break. Then not long after, a miracle!?! Could it be? Jesus is alive? He runs to the tomb. It’s empty! Later Jesus appears to them. It’s true! Peter has a glimmer of hope that he will have a second chance. Jesus appears to the disciples twice, but things just are not the same with Christ and Peter.
What I know, from waking up in that small town in Bocas, is that roosters do not take a day off, nor do they stop crowing as the day goes on. So all those years ago, Peter heard the rooster crow again on Monday morning, and all day Monday. Maybe the pain was a bit different now, the pain of something never being the same again, but it was still a reminder of “I denied Him when he needed me most.” Again on Tuesday daybreak came the crow, and on Wednesday, and on Thursday. And even through Christ is no longer dead Peter is being reminded daily and continually of his betrayal. The rooster crow was no longer a stab to his heart that his friend is gone, but it is now a constant reminder of his betrayal and that he is no longer worthy to call Christ his friend. Instead of ‘cock-a doodle do”, Peter hears, “you are not worthy’, ‘you denied Him’. The pain and guilt of his sin are still unresolved, and unresolved sin will eventually drive you away from God, even when he is right there with you. Why? Because you do not feel you are worthy, and you are probably right, you aren’t, but your worthiness is not up to you. God asks of us to have a contrite spirit and to love Him with all our heart and soul and mind.
So does Peter resolve his sorrow and go and ask for forgiveness? Nope! In his mindset of, “I will never be worthy of Christ again.” He gives up. How do we know this? Read John 21:3, remember that Christ is still on Earth at this point, and you would think that the disciples would be spreading the Good News of his resurrection right? Wrong! Peter is still their defacto “leader” and what does he do? Well after a few weeks of hearing the rooster crow each morning and throughout each day, Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” Seriously ? You are going back to your old life? Walking away from all you have learned and all you have been called to do? Of course he was. Why? Because he did not feel worthy enough due to unresolved sin in his life, and yes, unresolved sin is an ongoing betrayal. At this point Peter wasn’t denying Christ anymore, but the issue in his heart had not been resolved. His sin of denial had not been confessed. Maybe because he thought it could never be forgiven. It takes humbleness to confess sin and that is HARD. So hard that Peter, the “Rock” was walking away from his calling, to go back to doing what he had always done. Don’t judge! We have all been there. What was worse was that the others were still feeling guilt for running away. Their shame had not been resolved either. So what did they do? They said, “We will also come with you.” So now the leader, that Jesus appointed, is dragging them all down with him. Because of shame, pride, hurt, an unwillingness to say I’m sorry, because he thought he did not deserve to be forgiven.
So the group of them did exactly what we do today when we feel that we do not deserve Christ. They went right back to where they had been three years before, on a boat, with their nets, fishing for fish. It was like Christ had never stepped foot into their lives. They fished all night and by day break had absolutely nothing to show for it. Then something happened. The morning began to arrive. I’m sure after weeks of waking up to “You are not worthy” from the closest Patmos Island Red rooster, Peter had begun to dread the dawn. I never caught this until now, but when Jesus showed up on the beach, do you know what time of day it was? Just when the day was breaking. At that moment, just before the rooster crowed, when Peter’s pain would be at the very worst, when his heart would break all over again, and the black wave of guilt was preparing to rush over his heart, mind and spirit, Jesus called out to them, over the crow of the rooster. “Children, you do not have any fish, do you?” Something familiar about that voice stirred them. I’m sure the memory of that same beach, same boat, same nets even, from years earlier, and the voice saying, “Follow Me and I will make you fishers of men,” may have crossed their minds.“NO!!” They answered back, drowning out the rooster again. Jesus yells, over the crowing of the rooster, “Cast the net on the right-hand side of the boat and you will find a catch.” The noise of the gear and the yells of the men suddenly catching a net full of fish would have surely drowned out the rest of the devil bird’s crows that dawn. Peter is feeling better for some odd reason. This has been the first morning he has not had the rooster to contend with for weeks. Then John says it, “It is the Lord.” It was Jesus on the beach, he had come back to the very place they had started, and found them and offered them, NOT a second chance, but a brand new beginning. They had tried to run away with their shame, but Jesus had tracked them down, and was still blessing them regardless of what they had done. In his own simple, kind, loving way, by Christ showing up on that beach that morning and drowning out the rooster, and providing the bonus of fish, He let Peter and the others know they were forgiven. Peter was so overwhelmed he dove into the water and swam to shore as fast as he could. Why? Because Peter wanted that reconciliation, he NEEDED things to be right with he and Jesus again. He had to let the guilt and the shame go.
Christ also knew that Peter would continue hear the rooster crow each day, and if He did not completely restore him, that eventually the pain of the sound would wear him down again. Christ needed him to be a rock, not someone that could be defeated by a silly chicken announcing a new day. So for each time Peter had betrayed him, Christ gave him the opportunity to make it right, and to build him back up. Earlier Christ had, based on Peter’s faith that Christ was the son of God, stated that it was on that faith that He would build his Church. When Peter saw his faith completely fail on Good Friday, in his mind he was no longer worthy to lead or build Christ’s church for Him. Christ needed him to know that just because his faith had faltered, that is was Peter’s love for Jesus that would pull him through. Even though he had stumbled badly, Christ still had work for him to do.
Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?
Yes Lord.
Tend my lambs.
Simon, son of John, Do you love me?
Yes Lord.
Shepherd My sheep.
Simon, son of John, do you love me?
{With pain at the realization of the three question, like his three denials}
“Lord you know all things; You KNOW that I love You.”
Tend My sheep.
Christ let Peter know that He still found him worthy to build His church, even if Peter did not think he was worthy to do it.
What Christ was driving home was for Peter to not give up on what God needed him to do based upon Peter’s view of his own worth, but to do it because he loved Christ and more important because Christ loved him! So each morning after that day, when the rooster told him he was not worthy, Peter could boldly scream out into the coop, “IT DOESN”T MATTER! I will do it because I love Christ, and because He loves me, even though he shouldn’t!!”
I think we all have our own roosters we deal with daily. Those things in our life that constantly say, “You are not worthy of God’s love.” “You are not worthy to be his disciple.” “You are a hypocrite.” We often try to drown the rooster out with our work, with alcohol, with working out. Or with doing good deeds hoping to stop the rooster stop from crowing. Only to find that none of it will stop the relentless call.
Like Peter, we have to come to realize a couple of things. First, that nothing we have done is beyond the forgiveness of Christ. Holding on to that shame only causes the crows of the rooster to get louder each day. Second, that it doesn’t matter if we think we are worthy. It only matters if God thinks we are worthy. Peter still heard the crow of the rooster the rest of his days, but it longer had power over him, because he got things right between he and the King. When we finally put our shame, guilt, and fear under the authority of Jesus, and lay those burdens down as His feet, then we are able to begin to live in the fullness of God’s glory once again. We can never be worthy enough. We don’t have to be. Our job is to love Christ, because He loves us and He forgives us.
So what are you going to do. Keep listening to a silly bird? Christ is on the beach waiting to give you a new start. He has tracked you down to release you from your guilt and shame. He wants to drown out the crows of your rooster, and remove forever that daily sting. He is wanting to fellowship with you once more. You just need to dive in, and swim to Him.
If you don’t need a shepherd… you need to be one!
19 Dec 2011 2 Comments
It’s Christmas time!! I know that a lot of people love this time of year. The decorations, Christmas carols, the FOOD, vacation time, shopping, gifts, and spending time with family. For some reason, and I don’t know why, but the Christmas season for me always seems like such a lonely time. Even when I’m surrounded by family and friends, celebrating the birth of my Savior, I often feel isolated and sad. I also know that I’m not the only one that goes through this.
I wanted to send out a little message of encouragement to those of us who have the issue of feeling down at this time of year, and a plea to those who do not. Last year God laid this idea on my heart, guided me through some research, and revealed some insight into someone else who, in all likelihood, had some major “Christmas Day” blues, and I think this person may have been down emotionally for a while before Christmas Day even arrived. The person is Mary. Yeah… THAT Mary. Right now you may be about to call me out of line for even suggesting such a thing. Really Allison? You are trying to tell us that you think Mary had the holiday blues? The mother of God? Yes, yes I am. The scripture doesn’t say what Mary was thinking or feeling that night, so all of this is speculation on my part. But I do know as a woman what it feels like to be tired, and pregnant, and alone, and based upon what I have read I think she was all of those things during that first Christmas. I would reckon that most people ”think” she was in awe of what was going on and at complete peace. Maybe that was the case, and it’s nice to imagine it that way. I personally think that Mary felt completely isolated and abandoned that night, by both her family and her God, and that her faith was being rocked to the core. I believe that her emotions were more raw than we could ever empathize with. Why, you ask? Well I’ll get to that.
In contrast, I like to imagine her months earlier, walking in the glow of being visited by the angel Gabriel, telling her the news that SHE was going to bear Jesus, the Messiah, the ONE everyone was waiting for to bring deliverance. The message was affirmed with her visit to her cousin Elisabeth. Then, the first big blow to her ‘God moment’; Joseph doesn’t believe her and wants to leave. You know I have been heart-broken in my life, and I wasn’t engaged and I wasn’t pregnant, and it still destroyed me. I cannot image her devastation. If he didn’t believe her, who would? What was she going to do? How would she raise the child by herself? Disgraced, heartbroken, abandoned, alone … Then by a miraculous dream Joseph is shown the truth by an angel, believes her and stays by her side. But what was the fallout of his decision?
Well let’s fast forward 9 months to the little town of Bethlehem. First off, I think the thought, “Seriously God?” must have gone through Mary’s mind when she realized that she would be either walking or riding a donkey 70 miles while 9 months pregnant. Some science has placed the actual birth of Jesus closer to the summer months, so she may very well have been either walking or riding those 70 miles in the heat. I’m sure that the difficult travel over less than stellar terrain, more than likely ensured that she would deliver in Bethlehem; which of course is what God planned all along, but 20/20 hindsight doesn’t always make the present situation easier to deal with. Maybe I’m projecting what I think would be my own fears, frustrations and apprehensions, to Mary; but I don’t know very many pregnant women who would revel in the thought of having to walk/ride 70 miles in that condition, so I think the fact that she was at least ‘not happy’ about the situation is a safe assumption to make.
I think at that point she may have been an easy target for the enemy to start creeping in and attacking with a little doubt. “I have to walk this huge distance”… “If this were really God’s child WHY would he have allowed this to happen?” I’m sure that traveling with a 9 months pregnant Mary, did not make for the best travel time to Bethlehem. I’m willing to bet that the fact that they had to travel slowly was one of the reasons they were late getting there, and thus no available rooms. Plus, it’s not like Al Gore or Alexander G. Bell were around back then so they could reserve rooms ahead of time online, or call to say they were running late. They finally make it to Bethlehem and there is nowhere to stay. So what’s the big deal with that?
Well, after participating in the evacuation for Hurricane Floyd several years ago (along with the rest of the East coast of Florida) I know the frustration of ALL the rooms being filled. Driving, not walking, to every hotel in Georgia west of I-75) only to be told, ”We are full, keep driving” over, and over, and over again. It’s weary and frustrating beyond what you can image. When we finally found someone willing to take us in at the end of that long day Mike’s only comment, through tears of gratitude, was, “They can be a serial killers and chop me up into little pieces for all I care…. as long as they let me go to sleep first.”
But should Mary and Joseph have really NEEDED a room in the inn? Let’s think about this…. The Bible tells us that Joseph went to Bethlehem because his family was from the lineage of David. That means that Joseph’s ENTIRE family, if alive, would have been somewhere in the city, either in Inns or in private houses. Yet there is no family that offers to let them stay with them, not even to sleep on the floor? Why?!? Knowing that their relative-in-law just traveled such a long distance, pregnant, and not just a little pregnant. This was their grandchild right, or at least a nephew, or a cousin?
My thought is that after Joseph decided to stay with Mary his family shunned him, and her, and the baby. Let’s face it…It is quite an unbelievable story. “Let me get this straight… She’s pregnant and it’s GOD’s child…. riiiiiight.” I can only image the ridicule they had both been through the previous months… it was probably the Aramaic version of the following: “Oh my goodness son, you actually believe that TRAMP?” “Based on the Law she should be stoned to death and you are protecting that sinner?” “If anyone finds out the truth our family will be shunned.” “She is making a fool of you!” “Don’t expect us to have anything to do with you if this is your decision.”
So here they are, ALONE, no place to stay, and no family that will even offer to put a roof over their head. She ends up in a stable, with the donkeys, cows, horses, rats, and pigs… Okay … maybe not pigs, but you get the point. We always make it look all warm and cozy in the church plays, but it was a STABLE! It stunk! If it were summer it may have been sweltering and stunk worse!
They were HOMELESS, HOTEL-LESS, FAMILY-LESS. I’ll bet there were weary tears of frustration, pain, abandonment, and loneliness. Then another, “Seriously God?” moment. “I’m going into labor? I have to deliver the baby here? Now? You have GOT to be kidding me!!” How shameful. No family, no mid-wife to help. The Bible states that ‘Mary’ wrapped the baby in swaddling clothes. This would have ordinarily been done by a mid-wife, which means she probably delivered the baby alone. I think she felt completely isolated and demoralized at that moment, even though the God of the Universe was laying there in her arms. How often do we feel this way, even when we know that God is with us?
Now think about this… How vulnerable to major doubt was she right then? How easy would it have been for the enemy to plant the thought in her head , “God would have never allowed his child to be born in such a manner; the angel lied to me!”, and her believe it. She could have gotten bitter and cried out to God, “Why have you forsaken me?” I’m sure Joseph may have been having many of the same thoughts.
So what did God do? Did you ever wonder WHY he sent the shepherds? Did he think we would just like recreating the scene this time of year? Was it just an excuse for Him to be able to have a big belly laugh at us for dressing our kids up in ridiculous sheep and shepherd costumes? No! And to be honest, Jesus didn’t NEED their praise, even though he was more than worthy of it. I’m fairly certain that the shepherds, the lowliest of workers, were sent to the stable that night just for Mary and Joseph. What exactly had the shepherds been told, which was repeated to the two weary, both physically and spiritually, and lonely parents ? “Today in the town of David a savior has been born to you: he is the Messiah, the Lord.” Wow! That message was just for them. In their lowest moment God sent someone to tell them he was still there, that they were on the right path even though it was difficult, to affirm his Word, and to renew their faith.
I hope this Christmas, if you are feeling lonely and wondering where the heck God is, that you will know that God is right there with you, just as Jesus was with Mary that night. I also pray that God will send some modern-day shepherds your way to increase your faith and let you know that you are right in the middle of His plan, just when you need it most. I also pray that you shepherds out there…. Listen for God’s voice this Christmas, then be obedient and seek out the people who need to have God’s encouragement the most. Let them know that God is there with them and help revive their faith. After all, that is really what Christmas is all about.
Thanksgiving in the storm….
23 Nov 2011 4 Comments
In everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:18
Such a simple verse to read, but a very difficult thing to do.
Today was my day to do devotions at school. As per norm, I did not remember that little fact until about 5 minutes before it was supposed to start. Panicked, I prayed a quick “Oh GOD, you have GOT to help me!” prayer. The only thing that came to my mind was the word proclamation. Seriously God? THAT’LL help {sarcasm font needed}…. So I typed into Google (I’m a GENIUS when I have Google btw) ’Thanksgiving proclamation’, and low and behold, the FIRST thing that popped up was a link to ‘Thanksgiving Proclamation by Abraham Lincoln.” I started reading and before I could finish I was moved to tears…. The text is as follows:
By the President of the United States of America.
A Proclamation.
The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God.
In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while that theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union.
Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defence, have not arrested the plough, the shuttle or the ship; the axe has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased, notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battle-field; and the country, rejoicing in the consiousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom.
No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union.
In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the Seal of the United States to be affixed.
Done at the City of Washington, this Third day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the Unites States the Eighty-eighth.
When I read the date Oct 3rd, 1863, something struck me as odd about it. Then I realized why it seemed strange. This request to give thanks to God was given in the exact middle of the War between the States. Wow! It is so easy to give thanks in times of prosperity and peace, but for President Lincoln to do this, during the hell and heartbreak of war, was amazing. It was a such a wonderful testament to giving thanks to God in all circumstances.
Later in the day we learned that a dear friends of ours had suffered a tragic loss that morning. In the midst of my broken heart, my mind and spirit were brought back to the devotion from earlier, and the fact that first official Thanksgiving was established during the personal pain and suffering of so many. Even through the pain, we have reason to give thanks and praise, and I am so very thankful. I am thankful for a loving Savior, for my family, for my friends, co-workers, job, home, and for each day that God allows me to draw breath this side of heaven. I am thankful for the times in my life that have been difficult and painful, for they have made me a stronger person. In ALL things I will give thanks, even if there is pain in the offering!
A mistimed amen…
31 Oct 2011 3 Comments
So… it’s just after work today and one of the high school teachers, her husband and daughter stopped my desk. They were dropping by to say ‘thank you’ for letting them attempt to use our truck to move over the weekend. I think they had it for all of 15 minutes, because half way back to their house they realized it was going to rain. I had joked with Mike, and with them, that the REAL reason they returned the truck so quickly was due to the fact that the inside of it pungently smells like a boys locker room after a football game in mid-summer. They assured me it was just due to the rain.
So I asked if they were able to get everything moved into their new house. With a knowing look, they glanced at each other, half laughed, and said “yeah”, with an understood eye roll.
The moving company they called had shown up in a small taxi truck. Yes, you read that right, a TAXI. The movers insisted they could move everything in the taxi in 3 trips. When my friend told them that her furniture would not FIT on the Taxi, the movers comment was, “Oh, we’ll make it fit.” My friend kindly, but sternly, informed the hired hands that, “No, they would NOT ‘make’ it fit,” and for them to go rent a moving van. Which they eventually did.
So the husband speaks up at this point and says, “Yeah… we are DONE moving. Next time I move will be when my daughter moves me into a retirement home.”
The wife laughs and said, “The next time I move will be to heaven.”
Her husband responded with a very loud, “AMEN to that!!”
His wife and I looked at each other, and then at him with the “OH NO!! You did NOT just say that!” look, that only women can give. Dread and panic slowly came over his face as he realized that he has said it a bit to quickly, and a bit to loudly.
He began to stammer and stutter out a useless explanation, as his wife and I (and the rest of the office in hearing range) proceeded to burst out laughing.
She grabbed him by the arm, drug him off stage left, and out the door saying… “On THAT note… we are heading to our therapy session.”
I love my co-workers.
What I learned today, and why I am glad God graced me with a good sense of humor!
02 Oct 2011 4 Comments
No matter where we go, if it’s outside of Clayton or Albrook, we will find a way to get lost.
I learned that just because you know WHERE a place is located, and you know HOW to get there, do NOT assume that you will know how to get into the parking garage. No, let me restate, do not assume that you will even FIND the parking garage on the first attempt.
Once you realize that you have missed the parking garage, you will find a way to end up back on the highway heading in the wrong direction.
Based upon the parking garage alone, I never want to go to MultiCentro Mall just before Christmas or Mother’s day.
That when a security guard tells you the way to get to the bowling alley is to leave the mall, turn right and walk 200 meters, you should realize that some security guards are not good judges of distance, by about 150 meters.
That if you walk 200 meters past the entrance to the bowling alley, you have to walk the 200 meters back to find it.
When a bowling alley is on the 10th floor of a building do not assume it will be clearly marked from the street level.
Also, do not assume that the bowling alley is not inside of the Bennigans.
That in Panama being an hour late to a birthday party is not that big a deal to anyone.
That a bowling alley 10 floors up, over-looking the Pacific is pretty cool.
I now understand why, when I told a friend of mine I needed a new bathing suit, and would be looking for one while we were at MultiCentro, that she snarkily said “Good luck”.
In America purchasing a bathing suit when you are over 40 is extremely frustrating.
In Panama most Latin women think that a little junk in the trunk should be displayed like a badge of honor when you are in a swim suit. When that cultural mentality transcends into all the designs of bathing suit bottoms, it makes purchasing one for a pasty white American, who is NOT proud of the junk in her trunk, an exercise in painful humility.
That they will not mix and match bathing suit tops and bottoms at Conway.
When you are pear shaped, stores which will not mix and match makes finding a swim suit even more difficult. Either way, people end up seeing way more of you than what you would like.
I once AGAIN can relate to every ‘Cathy’ bathing suit cartoon I have ever seen.
I’m pretty sure all the dressing room attendants are Google translating the English phrase , “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!” tonight, after hearing it yelled so many times from dressing room ocho.
When they ring you up wrong, and charge you the incorrect amount, and you point it out by showing them the price tag and the wrong price on the receipt, but you speak NO SPANISH, they eventually just give you cash back to make you go away.
When you park in a parking garage that has 8 levels, and you do not remember what the floor number was you parked on, the next half hour of your life will strongly resemble an episode of Seinfeld.
When you try to ask a security guard in Spanish where the “Green” floor is, and he replies in English “I don’t speak English”, you start to question how bad your gringa toddler Spanish really is…
Apparently the word “green” in Spanish may be spelled V-E-R-D-E, but it’s pronounced BEAR-DAY. Who knew?
When you finally get the guard to understand what you are asking, you will NOT understand his directions, and still will not be able to find your truck.
That when you finally start at the top floor and hit every button on the elevator of the parking garage, and then run out at each floor to look for your car, you will eventually start laughing hysterically and make everyone think your entire family is crazy.
Think those are enough lessons learned for the day.
Until next time!
God’s most unlikely angel….
28 Sep 2011 5 Comments
My good friend, Daniel Decker, had a verse posted on his Facebook wall recently, and it elicited a memory of mine that needs to be shared. The verse was Psalm 118:24, and it is very well known to most Christians. However, you may not recognize it by chapter and verse alone. The Scripture reads, “This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” No doubt, many of you are humming a song you learned in Sunday school years ago right about now. In February of 2011, I was profoundly schooled in the true meaning behind this verse, and the verses after it, by someone I never expected.
Mike and I were driving home from Virginia. My sister, who lives in Richmond, was in the process of moving from her small apartment into a new larger home. We had taken a small UHaul full of furniture wrapped in old blankets up to her place and were helping her move over a long weekend. We had also found out on this trip that our house had sold, so the fact we were really going to the mission field and actually had no true “home” anymore was sinking in. We were somewhere in South Carolina, heading south, when we pulled off I-95 to fill up for the last leg of the trip.
As we were leaving the parking lot, I noticed a gentleman sitting on the curb looking out over the main road. The curb was higher than most, so his legs were hanging off like he was sitting on a ledge. He was facing away from us, so I could not see his face. He was wearing a green polo style work shirt and jeans and seemed, from a distance, to be neatly kept. I immediately got the feeling that he was homeless and that I was to go speak with him. Now, you have to understand that I get these “feelings” a lot, and I always struggle to discern if it is Allison (and her white middle class guilt) speaking or if it is God. I’m about 50/50 on acting because I’m never 100% sure. I was having the same internal struggle with this prompting, too. The conversation in my head went something like this…
Seriously? Here we go again. God is that you, or is it just me this time? I’ve GOT to stop thinking this way. What if he’s not homeless? Maybe he just got off work and is waiting on his ride. How embarrassing would THAT be, to go try to talk to him as if he were homeless only to find out he is NOT!?
The image of Sandra Bullock in Two Weeks Notice flashed through my head. Remember the scene featuring her throwing money in the construction workers coffee because she thinks he is needy only to have the worker yell at her for messing up his cup of Joe?
Besides, if he was homeless, he’d have a bag or something next to him, and he has nothing. This is not God; it’s just me being overly sensitive again. We need to get home!
So I kept silent because I knew if I even mentioned it to Mike he would have said, “Let’s go talk.” As we were pulling out onto the main road, I was able to see the man from the front. I saw the large bag of his belongings sitting on the street side of the curb, which I could not have seen from the other direction. *Deep sigh* So I wait until we get back on the interstate to mention it to Mike. For several miles, Mike and I talked about the whys and wherefores of if we should have stopped and talked to the man. We debated if it was God or simply all in my head. We decided twenty-five miles down the road that we would rather we wrong and act than be wrong and do nothing. So we turned around.
When we got back to the station, he was lying in the ditch between the road and the parking lot, just in front of the curb he had been sitting on. I didn’t think I was supposed to offer him money, but I stuck a little cash in my pocket just in case the subject came up and he needed it. Approaching people I don’t know is always a little awkward, but I think I said something along the lines of “Excuse me, Sir? Is it okay if we talk with you a bit?”
He had already passed out for the evening even though the sun was still up. He was noticeably drunk, and based on the way he walked, I could tell he was in pain. He had really stiff knees, bloodshot, jaundiced eyes, and the dehydrated, papery skin that is the mark of most alcoholics. He looked like he had shaved recently, and he was missing most of his teeth. His lack of teeth didn’t stop him from giving us a big grin. He made it known that he was happy just to have someone to talk to. He told us that most people never even acknowledge his existence, must less take the time to just stop and talk. His name was Troy, and I guessed he was between fifty or sixty though he could’ve been younger. The lifestyle he’d led made it hard to tell.
We talked to him for about a half hour about anything and everything—where he had grown up, his career in computers, his grown children (who hated the fact he is homeless) and how he refused to let them take care of him. According to Troy, that shouldn’t be their job. We were given a small glimpse into the self pride which was keeping him imprisoned in his current life. We cried with him as he talked about his daughter who had died a few years before, well before she should have. I asked him if there was anything we could do or get for him or if he needed money. He was adamant he did not want the latter, but he said that if we could help him find some cardboard to sleep on that it would be wonderful. I remembered the blankets in the back of the car and that one was an old flowered bedspread. I told him, “Troy, I can do you a bit better than cardboard. I have a bedspread that you can have, but I gotta warn you, it has flowers printed all over it and is sorta girlie.” Troy grinned that toothless smile that could light up a room and said, “I’m a flower kind of guy.”
I got him the bedspread and we started talking about his current circumstances and about God. He told us that a lot of people in his situation get angry with God and blame Him for all their troubles. According to Troy, his troubles were his own doing, the direct results of his own bad decisions, addictions, and hang ups. Still, he said, “I know God loves me anyway. I know he has my back. God and I, we talk all the time, and He gives me everything I need.” Then he worked me over, spiritually speaking. He said, “You know, I wake up every morning and quote Psalm 118:24.” (Picture me scrolling through the “Bible files” in my head, desperately trying to remember what the verse was. After all, how could a homeless drunk guy know more about Scripture than I? After all, I was going to the mission field!) I still laugh at my foolish pride.)
Then he proceeded in quoting it, with his own thoughts on it thrown in afterwards—“‘This is the day that the Lord has made! I will rejoice and be glad in it,’ and I thank Him for every day. Every day is good.” Then this old man threw me for a complete loop. He continued to say, “But what most people don’t pray is in the next two verses. The next verse is, “O Lord, do save, we beseech You, O Lord, we beseech You, do send prosperity.’ I pray that every day, and every day, God answers me.” Then he held up the flowered bedspread I had just given him, shaking it a bit for emphasis, and said, “This is my prosperity. God has answered my prayer once again.” By this time I was crying, and Mike was “wiping dust out of his eyes.” But Troy was not done, “And you can’t forget the next verse,” he said. “‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’ So you guys think you are blessing me, but you are the ones who are blessed.” Wow! Nothing like a curbside preacher to strike at your heart and teach you humility. We prayed with Troy, and he sent us on our way.
We got back on the road, driving up the entrance ramp as much different people than the couple who had driven up it an hour or so before. Twenty-seven miles up the road, just past where we turned around, there was an accident—a bad one. The road workers were just starting to clear it up. Mike and I looked at each other and shook our heads in disbelief. Mike was silent for a few minutes and then said, “Ya know, Ali, we really have no way of knowing that if we hadn’t turned around that we would have been in that accident, but let’s suppose that’s how it would have happened. All this time we’ve been thinking to ourselves that we were the ones that came ‘in the name of the Lord’ to Troy to bless him, but if we were really going to be in that accident, then it was Troy who came in the name of the Lord to spare our lives.”
I will never, ever, read those verses quite the same again. Thank You, God, for Your divine providence for all Your children!
Week one…. Lessons learned in dependence and humility
29 Jul 2011 4 Comments
So we have been in Panama an entire week …. Wow ! What a week it has been! I’ve had more lessons in humility in the last seven days than I have had in the last 40+ years. Let’s see if I can give you a brief run down of the past week…
We arrived in Panama last Thursday night. We had an amazing flight down on Copa, which is by far one of the best airlines I’ve ever flown on. The first miracle was that we got all our bags on the plane, UNDER WEIGHT limit. Special thanks to the Harrills for offering to check an additional bag for us so we could get a few more items here. We, along with all 9 checked bags and 6 carry ons, were picked up at the airport by our director Scott and fellow teacher David. Arrived at 655 Calle Guanabano late Thursday and was blown away. Most of the apartments here in Clayton are old Army housing and they still have the look and feel of ”old Army housing”. Our apartment had been renovated prior to being rented by the school. The carpet has been replaced with synthetic wood floors throughout, and they have added an extension to the back which gives us additional room in the kitchen, a back porch, and larger master bath. Plus both the kitchen and bathrooms have been fully tiled. The difference in “feel” is beyond description. It was WAY more than we ever expected or deserved. So very grateful to the admin staff of CCA in finding and securing us such a wonderful place. Internet and gas lines were not set up on our arrival, so we went to the 650 building, where several other staff members live, to call home. We discovered on coming back to our apartment, that you apparently need formal training on how to operate the keys to get into our building. If you come in the back door you only need one key, but that will only work if you do not have the dead bolt locked from inside. If you come through the front, there is a locked gate, a metal front door, and a regular door that you need keys for. The keys/locks are as quirky as our family, so after getting home from our “communications” visit to 650 and finding we couldn’t figure out how to work them, we had to send back for “key tech support” to get into our new home.
On Friday we did a lot of running around, thanks to our friends and neighbors Mindy and David White, who helped us get our account set up at PriceSmart (Panama version of Costco — I’ve heard your PriceSmart card is actually more important to get than your visa …LOL ), and getting additional groceries and home goods. Found out how difficult it is to communicate when neither party understands the other’s language. Finding this to be a major issue with me, since I pride myself on being able to listen and understand people. I can still listen… with a smile … but I’m sure that now my eyes are either glazed over, showing complete confusion, or a blank stare.. not sure which. We also learned on Friday that Mike’s key will not work the front gate.
On Saturday several of the new families took a trip to the mall at Allbrook, compliments of the Whites and Richardsons. It’s an extremely large mall that is fairly close to where we live. As we left Mike wanted to go out the back door. I, being safety conscious, wanted the back door deadlocked. He reminded me his key didn’t work the front gate, and if we deadbolt the back we couldn’t get in that way using the key. I {snarkily} reminded him that I HAD a set of keys that worked the front gate, and since I would with him when we got home, we would be able to get in the front. We had a great time at the mall. Only bought a few necessities since we are really trying to live on a reduced budget. We got home and I reached for my keys… only to realize that they were still inside the apartment {palm forehead}– Which of course means that we are locked out of the front gate of our house. So here we are, 4 gringos, with no proof that we live in our apartment, at night, trying to break into the outside gate to our home (which I’m fairly sure was designed by the architects of Alcatraz). Cops are driving by and we are yelling at the kids, “Get down and act normal!!”. I just KNEW that I was going to end up in a Panamanian jail before the night was over. So how did we get in? Well, we had always wondered WHY there was an umbrella that always stayed in the foyer area just past the gate. We learned that if you have a son with long “ape” arms, they can use the strategically placed umbrella to open the gate latch. So crisis averted, and we didn’t end up in jail.
Sunday we celebrated with Crossroads Bible Church, which is the church associated with the school where Mike and I are working. Had a wonderful time. Love Pastor Gunn’s teaching. Went back to the mall that afternoon with the Harrill’s (notice dependency on rides everywhere) for lunch and to get Mike a working key to our front gate! We took a long Sunday stroll looking for neques. Walked all the way to the playing fields and pool in Clayton.
Monday we started work at the mission school Crossroads Christian Academy. We decided to leave the boys at the house with a set of keys so if they wanted to go to the playground they could. Sooooo…..We are sitting in orientation and someone walks up to me with a note that reads, “The boys have locked themselves out of the house. They are at the Whites”. What a way to start the week! We get done with work, go retrieve the boys from the Whites (where I learn that they were locked out of the house without shoes and with Pepper in his pajamas). Lesson learned for the boys… the back door does NOT have an outside handle and will lock automatically behind you! After hanging out for a few minutes I decide I want to go home and change clothes, so I ask Mike for his keys so I can let myself in. He replies that the boys had his keys. I retorted with, “No they had MY keys.” We stand there, staring at each other, as the realization sweeps over us that BOTH sets of keys are inside the house, and we are ALL locked out. We have no idea who to call, and no way to communicate with anyone even if did know who to call. Thank goodness for Clare a fellow CCA Mom/teacher/coach, who knows a locksmith AND enough Spanish to help us out. A few hours later we were FINALLY back in our house. So four days in … 2 days locked out. Being at .500 is great stat if you are a baseball player, but not so much if it’s your record for being locked out of your home in a foreign country.
Tuesday was blessedly uneventful!
On Wednesday, we were supposed to be looking at a truck to purchase. Thanks to Babelfish we had broken email conversations with someone selling a Toyota Hilux. The owner was going to stop by the school to show it to us, but he never showed. Major downer since “Mrs. Independent is getting frustrated with having to ask for rides everywhere. Love how God deals with those pride issues I have! After school Nathan (Clare’s husband) took us to El Dorado to get our cell phones unlocked and set up for service. Once again major communication issues. Finding that we are resorting to caveman like sentences. Praying we can get enough meaning into the few Spanish words we can grunt out, so hopefully someone will understand what we need. Lots of blank stares on both ends. While heading home we tried to follow the steps to add minutes to our cell service, but we couldn’t understand the automated response, and both of the phones ended up not working. SO, we are without a vehicle, without cell phones, I can’t even call the service number to find out WHY the cell phones won’t work because I can’t understand the person on the other end of the line…. Had my first major, “I’m going to bed!” pity party. Funny how quickly we let little trivial stuff control our outlook on life huh? Fortunately David White came over and I overheard him relating to Mike how frustrated he had been about this time a year ago. Helped my feelings to know I wasn’t the only one. Amazing how God will put the right person in your life at the right time to help you over the hump. Was able to do Bible study with them later that night. One of the other members of the study is fluent in Spanish and was able to get our phones working. God is good! Plus we were able to borrow a car from the Gunn family for a few days, which made us feel not quite so helpless.
Thursday, Mike was able to look at a truck to possibly purchase. It’s a little out of our price range so we are praying that if it’s what God wants us to have that it will work out. Several of us also took a work field trip to start our immigration process. Had to have a blood test and get pictures made for our resident visas. Last night we made a trip out to the new El Rey (grocery store), which is so nice! Think it will be our version of Publix for “date night”!
Today was our last day of work for the week. I’m still struggling with a learning curve at work. Today I managed to mess something up so bad I had to call the States for tech support to get something restored (rolls eyes!). I know it will get better with time. I know God is right here in the middle of this small valley with me. Really glad we have the next couple of days “off”.
So that has been our first week. Some really good, some really aggravating, some hysterical, some humiliating, but all God ordained and for a reason. My grandmother had a saying that if everyone threw their problems out into the street, you would run out and grab your own. This is so true. Regardless of the minor hindrances and frustrations I’ve had this week, they pale in comparison to what others are going through. I am blessed beyond measure or what I deserve. I thank you all, and crave your continued prayers as God grows us and continues to show us our place in the grand plan for Panama.
