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Solomon had it right thousands of years ago when he penned, “Avoiding strife is an honor for a person, but any fool will quarrel” (Proverbs 20:3, NASB). Not every social media post requires your attention, and fewer require your interaction. Within the real relationships of marriage, family, church, and friends, we do well to choose not to fight.

Think of the energy and time we would save by choosing not to fight and not to get involved in a dispute. There is only so much bandwidth available to each of us. It’s foolish to engage in petty conflicts that drain discretionary resources and negatively impact relationships.

I wonder how much better marriages could be if spouses would choose not to quarrel. Who cares if your wife parks her vehicle in the wrong part of the driveway, leaves your vehicle low on gas, or stuffs tissues in the door handle where she has also deposited her Chapstick?

What difference does it make that your husband doesn’t remember your friend’s name and the story you told him about your friend’s dishwasher that only cleans on two settings between the hours of 7:00 – 11:00?

I suspect in the course of Christian marriages there are far fewer occasions that necessitate a fight than the number of quarrels we actually engage.

I wonder how much better parent / child relationships would be if the generations would choose not to fight. Why battle with your three-year-old who spins like a top walking behind you in the grocery aisle? Why engage your teenage son who randomly chooses to part his hair differently while adding some product for reasons none of us can comprehend? Why have the last word with an elderly parent who may not recall what was said tomorrow or the next day?

I suspect in the minivans, SUVs, and houses of Christian families there is honor awaiting those who will avoid strife, the kind that accomplishes nothing of value, damages relationships, and does not please our Lord.

Matthew Henry offers great counsel and don’t scroll past his words. You’ll be glad you paused to read them.

Men think it is their wisdom to engage in quarrels; whereas it is the greatest folly that can be. He thinks himself a wise man that is quick in resenting affronts, that stands upon every nicety of honor and right, and will not abate an ace of either, that prescribes, and imposes, and gives law, to everybody; but he that thus meddles is a fool, and creates a great deal of needless vexation to himself. 

As always, thanks for reading, and I welcome your feedback and any suggestions you might have for an upcoming Lunchtime Musing.

That's Your Opinion

How did Paul do it?

The guy wasn’t a woman and had limited experience with women, but he sure did have a lot to say to women about what it means to be a wife and mother and a female member of a local church. He wasn’t a father, but he brings the heat to dads about what it means to raise kids. He never married, but he directed single guys on the dating scene and hopeful ladies looking to land a man.

I suspect Paul heard the same thing in his day that so many spout today, “Hey Paul, just wait until you have kids…” or “Paul, I hear you, but you have no idea what it’s like to have a wife, so you may not know everything you think you know.”

The guiding principle for engagement is you must be what I am or have experienced what I’ve experienced. Without a shared experience, your words are little more than hot air. Unless you’ve faced any of the following, you’re not qualified to talk about it.

  • Not a parent, can’t talk about raising kids.

  • Not a parent of girls, can’t talk about raising girls.

  • Not a parent of boys, keep it closed when it comes to raising boys.

  • Not a parent of teens, then you have no idea what I am going through and really shouldn’t say anything.

  • Never been married, then no phone calls or texts please about how to be a spouse or address a marriage problem.

  • Never been divorced, then, yeah, I’m not really looking to you for advice.

  • Never experienced infertility, then please keep your comments to yourself.

  • Never been laid off, out of work, or bankrupt, then your privilege has no place with me.

  • Not a woman, then don’t mansplain to me.

  • Never cared for an elderly parent, then don’t tell me what you think I should do as their son.

Two Bible principles intersect at this point.

Paul wrote to a young pastor named Timothy, “Let no man despise thy youth” (1 Timothy 4:12). What is there to despise about being young except the fact that you are young, you haven’t seen it all, you haven’t done it all? Old school looks at the young man, nods his head, and chuckles at his inexperience, and old school is less than enthusiastic to heed direction or counsel from the young man.

Experience is a helpful teacher. With experience, we improve over time with repetitions. With experience, we learn to repeat successes and avoid errors. With experience, we gain status from onlookers who observe our accomplishments and achievements.

Let no one despise your youth, but be an example to the believers in word, in conduct, in love, in spirit, in faith, in purity. Till I come, give attention to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine - Paul to Timothy

Experience is not an authority. What works for one person in parenting or small business ownership or church growth or financial planning may not work for someone else. Factors too numerous to catalog make similar outcomes uncertain. For one pastor to say to another, “You should do it this way too because it worked for us” cannot anticipate all the variables from one setting to the next. Does that mean that we should not listen to others because our situations are neither similar nor identical? That would be a foolish conclusion.

Paul follows the admonition to Timothy, “Don’t let anyone put you down because you’re young” with “Continue to read the Scriptures to the people, strengthen them, and teach them.” Timothy’s influence does not reside in his vast experience. Timothy possesses no authority to dictate behaviors. In all matters, Paul directs Christians to turn to the Bible for answers to life’s moments.

When we hear the problems others face, we serve them by pointing them to helpful and hopeful Scriptures which become a lamp to their feet and a light to their path. When we contemplate our next moves in our varied life experiences, we commit ourselves to the reading of the Bible, by which we will be strengthened for the challenge we face, and from which we learn the steps to take.

With every passing day we gain experience, some of it happy and much of it sad. Here, experience informed by and interpreted by the wisdom of the Bible becomes a valuable aid. Now we speak to others the Bible with our experience as an illustration that the Bible can be trusted in the present moment.

s always, thanks for reading, and I welcome your feedback and any suggestions you might have for an upcoming Lunchtime Musing.

The Scoreboard Shows Girls 3 Boys 2

A few weeks ago when her older brother’s birthday fell on a Tuesday, the younger sister commented, “I guess my birthday just has to fall on a Tuesday for dad to write about me.” Women!

Well, younger sister did one better. She gave birth to a daughter late on a Monday night. Did she time the labor so her author-daddy would write about his new granddaughter and the beautiful mother on the following Tuesday? Inquiring minds want to know.

Go Make More Christians

There are so many joys of being a pastor, and the joys outdistance the sorrows. Officiating marriages is at the top of the list. I have the best view of the looks shared by the bride and groom. I hear the whispered words that fall silent before reaching the ears of the invited guests. I commend the couple to go live with God’s great blessing when I pronounce them “man and wife.” The cherry on the sundae is that I have been privileged to perform the marriages of my three older children.

Like the scores of marriages I’ve performed before theirs, I led my daughters and sons in their vows and listened to their declarations of intent. I delivered the wedding sermon with some traditional words I’ve used in most ceremonies prior to theirs. But for my children I added a new line, one I now incorporate in all weddings where I officiate, “Go make more Christians!”

One generation shall praise your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts.
Psalm 145:4

God’s Gift to Them and Her Gift to Us

All life is created by God. Every plant in the soil, fish in the waters, bird in a nest, animal in the field, and child in the womb received its life from God. In each example, God uses the biological act he designed to bring new life into the world. The life is God’s blessing to the previous generation (Psalm 127:3). With every act of creation, we praise God for the display of his glory and power to bring new life to our fallen world. In a place where death dominates, God continues to bless with life. In the same place where spiritual death dominates, God brings life to all who are born again (John 3). God’s gift in the physical world and the spiritual world are the same – life! May all the earth praise him!

I’ve been in the birthing room. Many of you have been there too, either as a spectator or as an active pusher. I truly am amazed at what a woman does to give birth to a baby. After 9 months of pregnancy with all its ups and downs, the moment comes for the baby to arrive. When the attending medical people say, “One more push!” momma engages every muscle in her body, fights through the pain, and wills herself to bring her child into the world. What a mother does is awesome.

And then soon grandpa gets to hold her. She greets grandpa from her little car seat with the warmest of smiles. She sits near him on a Sunday night hymn sing and offers her praise to the Lord in her sweet, little voice, making up the words as she joins the congregation. His grandsons run to him, hug his legs, jump into his arms, and hug his neck. His daughters may not know it, but these grandchildren are her ultimate gift to him. He cannot convey sufficiently his gratitude for what she endured to give him these gifts. I love you, momma!

So now the girls outnumber the boys 3-2. It’s not a competition, but I’d be ok if they figure out how to even the score.
 

As always, thanks for reading, and I welcome your feedback and any suggestions you might have for an upcoming Lunchtime Musing.

 

Missing Her

8 years ago today, January 23, 2016, my mom died. She was 69 years old, had suffered a virus-induced heart attack about a decade earlier, developed congestive heart failure, endured not one but two LVAD (Left Ventricle Assist Device) surgeries which prolonged her life, and loved her Lord until he called her home. What follows is what I wrote on the one-year anniversary of her death. Thanks for reading, and if you knew my mom, I hope my brief words put a smile on your face. And if you are a Christian, I hope you will live faithful to our Lord like my mom and so many others did before us.

Originally published January 23, 2017

One year. 365 days. So many memories. So many curiosities. One year ago today my mom, Bonnie VerWay, finished her race having kept the faith.

The year without her has provided brief moments of thought and long periods of deep reflection. A song, a signpost, a cartoon, or a current event often brings her to mind, providing a nearly always happy moment. Yard work, shoveling snow, long drives, hours awake in the darkness, or alone on a boat allow for solitude to consider the fullness of her life and the expanse of God’s grace. I will need many more years to grasp his grace to her and, by extension, to me.

My own life seems so much shorter now. In a little more than seventeen years, I will be as old as she was when she left this earth and entered into the presence of her savior and mine. How long before my heart fails like hers did? How long before my eyes dim and my voice weakens? I am much more aware of my own mortality now that both my dad and mom have put on immortality (1 Corinthians 15:53) leaving me the oldest in the family.

Momma's Boy

As a child, some mocked me as a “momma’s boy.” They were right, of course, but they didn’t know why. They knew nothing of her unplanned pregnancy, nothing of her teenage motherhood, nothing of her impoverished and abusive shotgun marriage. They just saw her fight for a young boy to give me every opportunity both eternal and temporal.

She was over protective. Many adventures my friends with older parents were allowed to pursue I could not. She meant well but didn’t understand her acts only contributed to my reputation. On the flip side, I was rarely in trouble with other young boys or teenage guys because I was rarely out of her sight.

When Brenda and I married before my mom was forty years old, she cried so much every time we left Chicago to return to our ministry home. I understand her tears now that Brenda and I say goodbye after only a few days with our all grown up kids.

There is much to tell of God’s grace in her life - from unwed, expectant mother to faithful wife to mature Christian woman to lonely widow. Moment by moment, day by day, pain after pain, God’s grace carried her, provided for her, protected her, filled her with joy, strengthened her for labor, and sustained her faith until the end.

Still, her most intimate moments revealed a penchant to fear what lay ahead. She hid her fright behind a hard shell and a wide smile. Later, she would lament her lack of confidence in God’s care for her, citing a psalm or a text from one of the prophets where God’s provision was on display. I miss the hand written letters exhibiting the careful and beautiful strokes of a seasoned teacher. Inside the envelope was a specific reference to one of God’s limitless characteristics she found so comforting on a given day. Grace.

Until Then

So, the year has passed as it has for all who have escorted someone loved beyond description to heaven’s gate. We look around and wonder how long until he opens paradise to us. How long, Lord? How long?

Until then we wait expectantly, serve joyfully, live faithfully resting peacefully in God’s grace.

*************

Bonus material for reading this far, here’s a little bit about the LVAD machine.

LVAD stands for Left Ventricular Assist Device. It is a mechanical pump that is surgically implanted in the chest to help the heart pump blood to the rest of the body. LVAD surgery is usually performed on patients with severe heart failure, either as a bridge to transplant or as a permanent solution. The surgery involves placing the LVAD in the upper part of the abdomen, just below the heart, and attaching it to the heart’s lower chambers. The procedure usually takes 4 to 6 hours and requires open-heart surgery. The LVAD is powered by a battery and controller, which are attached to the pump via a driveline that runs through the abdominal wall. The recovery period after LVAD surgery can be long and challenging, and it requires significant lifestyle changes. However, LVADs can be lifesaving for patients with severe heart failure.

As always, thanks for reading, and I welcome your feedback and any suggestions you might have for an upcoming Lunchtime Musing.

Happy Birthday to Me

No, not my birthday, his birthday. I think the birthdays of our sons and daughters should be celebrations for the parents and grandparents. It is a day to remember God’s gift to them. Today, January 16, 2024, we celebrate the birthday of our firstborn. Michael Anthony is 33 years old. So I say, “Happy birthday to me!”

The Summer of 1990

This was Brenda’s second pregnancy. We lost the first child a few months after conception. We were young, confused, and fearful that we would not have children. At that time in our marriage, we did not know if Brenda could carry a child to full term. When Brenda confirmed she was pregnant a second time, the fears magnified.

As I recall (and be sure to ask Brenda for the more accurate version), the pregnancy was challenging but not unbearable. The late summer months and early fall in southern Illinois were hot and uncomfortable, but Brenda marched on. The last weeks of pregnancy Brenda’s doctor restricted her activities and confined her to bedrest. By the early days of January, her doctor didn’t like some of the vital signs for both mom and baby and recommended we induce labor for the health of both mother and child. And that’s what we did.

I was ready to go. I attended the birthing classes, which at the time, were compulsory if I was going to be in the delivery room. The grainy black and white ultrasound images determined we were having a boy, but those pictures were from the early 1990s, nothing like today’s ultrasound renderings, so we anticipated a boy but would not know with certainty until birth.

Like many induced labors, Brenda’s labor with Michael was long and difficult. The weather in Alton, Illinois, that January evening was rough, not too different than what Midwest states have experienced in the last week. The hospital was short staffed because of travel conditions, and we waited longer than normal for members of her obstetrics office to arrive. 24 hours or so later, God gave us Michael. He was a couple weeks early and not quite six pounds. I remember holding him in the palm of my hand with his tiny body resting on my forearm. This was our son. I was a dad. My life changed forever and for the better.

I Can Ask God for Nothing More

The last 33 years have been a wonderful dream for me lived in reality. Michael and I have the best relationship in the present, built over decades of interactions and founded on the character of our Creator. We have not done everything a dad and son could do together. To be certain, there are moments Jeffery and I have enjoyed that Michael and I did not and will not. But we have enjoyed each other’s companionship in venues far too numerous to list. We’ve shared conversations in his bedroom or mine, on basketball courts, in a fishing boat, and probably the most in car rides to practices, concerts, youth activities, hospital visits, auto parts stores, and on and on. Those car ride chats constructed layer upon layer of deep connection.

I talk to Michael almost daily. Cell phones make possible what was impossible when I was a young adult living hundreds of miles away from my dad. We both are pastors, so we talk shop a lot. I have found him to be a trusted advisor and a challenging intellect. And we talk Chicago sports and parenting and exercise routines and whatever silly things his brothers are up to that make us laugh. I’ve been talking to him for 33 years, not entirely joyful talks but mostly joyful talks, and I thank the Lord for that.

This is a Musing and not a tribute, so I must conclude. I often quote Proverbs 18:22, “He who finds a wife finds a good thing, and obtains favor from the Lord.” A key part of the Lord’s favor is the offspring he gives to the man and his wife. The Lord has been very good to me in the gift of each of our children. I cannot offer sufficient thanks to the Lord for my children, and for my first born.

A Note to Parents of Young Children

Young parents and married couples, raising children is hard, harder than you ever could have imagined before you had children. Every sleepless night is soon in the past. Every bewildering occasion pales in comparison to what awaits you. Each trip to the doctor, every moment of parental failure, all painful experiences are worth the payout at the end. Children are God’s gift to you! May you delight in his gifts.

As always, thanks for reading, and I welcome your feedback and any suggestions you might have for an upcoming Lunchtime Musing.