Tuesday With Teri

I have this story I like to tell.  It is just a story, it is not true, but it reveals a truth I think.  It goes like this….

          Several years ago the minimally famous actress, Dinah Wheeler, received quite bit of attention for her friendship with a woman named Carly Smithe.  Carly considered herself to be one of Dinah’s closest friends.   Whenever Dinah was  out of town on a movie shoot, Carly would take care of her place.  She would dust, vacuum, collect the mail and water the plants.  Carly would even sleep over on weekends whenever Dinah was going to be out of town for an extended period.  Dinah’s neighbors were accustomed to Carly’s comings and goings.  She was always pleasant and they’d often wave or engage in neighborly chit chat at the mail boxes.  Dinah’s neighbors considered her to be fortunate to have such a good friend as Carly.  Everything seemed fine, better than fine even….except Dinah had no idea who Carly was.

           She had never met her before and had no idea Carly had been in her home on such a regular basis.  One weekend Dinah returned home a few days earlier than scheduled from filming on location.  She found Carly in her house and immediately phoned the police.  When the authorities came to take Carly away neighbors heard her crying out, “But I’m her friend, I watch over her house and take care of her things!”   Sadly, Carly was mentally unstable.  She was a devoted fan for many years and eventually considered herself to be a close friend of Dinah’s.   Carly may have known a lot about Dinah, but she never spoke with her, wrote her or spent time with her.  There was not a “personal” relationship between them .   Carly had imagined one existed.  She believed it was true and so did all of Dinah’s neighbors. A lot of people thought Carly and Dinah were very close friends.

          Are we like that with God?  Do we hang out at His house on Sundays, watch over His things, do stuff “for God” and consider ourselves to be close to Him?    Like Carly, who was certain her attention to  Dinah’s things made her one of Dinah’s friends, do we fall into the pattern of doing things for God, but not really knowing Him in a personal way?   A relationship requires attention to the heart.  Do we listen to Him through His Word?  Do we talk with Him through prayer?  Do we rely on Him in faith and trust? 

          Sometimes I  ask myself have I become like Carly?  Does my life only look like I know God in a personal way.   2Timothy 3:13-17 warns of imposters and gives us guidance for how to not become a Carly.   “…continue in the things you have learned and become convinced of, knowing from whom you have learned them; …from childhood you have known the sacred writings which are able to give you wisdom that leads to salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus…all scripture is inspired by god and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for  training in righteousness; that the man of God be adequate, equipped for every good work.”     

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             I have a rock in my garden.  To be honest it is the only thing I contributed to the wonderful collection of perennials and annuals which fill the landscaped areas of my yard.  The previous owners of our home invested a lot of love and time into gardening efforts.  I am forever grateful and am quick to give credit to them when someone comments on anything that is growing in my yard.   Every year and each new season I watch and wait to see what will push up from the earth.   By now I know I can expect daffodils and tulips to flourish in the spring filling every open space among the mulch piled below the trees.  Roses will attempt to blossom before the June Bugs eat them up and a purple Clematis will wind its way through my porch rails to display rather fragile petals.  Azaleas and dogwood trees will inevitably show their recognizable blooms in the early spring and summer,  while some sort of ground cover will fill in any open space around the flowerbed in the yard. 

          When we moved into the house I had plans to contribute to the work already begun by the previous owners.  I went to the garden center that first spring day fully intent on purchasing a few more flowers for the yard.  Ultimately, though not too surprisingly, I got a bit off task.  I found myself looking at bird baths and yard décor instead.  Somehow, and even I am not sure why, I ended up purchasing a rock.  It was one of those “so ugly it’s cute” sort of rocks.  The man made rock contained the image of a squinting or squished face.  Truly I can’t recall why I thought this was a necessary purchase, but purchase I did.  I do recall being pleased with myself as I in placed the unsightly thing in the middle edge of our flowerbed.   I tend to forget it is even there and sometimes find myself startled by the absurd image staring out from under the overgrown foliage. 

          One of the nice things about this early rock purchase is that, unlike so many of my other yard & garden endeavors, it has always stayed the same.  I have not, nor will I be able to, cause its downfall.  I cannot over water it, undernourish it or over prune it to an early death.   Seasons change and so does my garden.   In the fall the green plants pull back into the earth and nearby trees shed a thick blanket of dead leaves over them.  The rock remains unmoved or changed.  By wintertime the flowerbeds resemble barren land, what has not been pinned down by autumn leaves soon falls under the weight of layers of snow.   The rock remains unmoved or changed.   As spring arrives, bright green leaves unfold from every branch of each tree, and colorful blooms dot the once grey landscape.   The rock remains unmoved or changed.  By summertime the garden is full and flowing with green plants and few blooms.  Some plants will suffer neglect and fail to experience the entirety of the season.  The rock remains unmoved or changed. 

          I thought of this rock the other day when I began work on a poem I intend to write for a friend.  Through everything, the ups and downs, this friend has been like a rock in my garden.   I know that no matter how things around me change, she will remain.  I know she will share in my celebrations and comfort me in times of need.  I know that, unlike so many other things in my garden of life, I cannot neglect her because she requires nothing of me except my friendship and love.   She is an earthly example of the rock God is in our gardens of life.   The world around us may at times be conducive to wonderful blooms and beauty in our lives, but sometimes the world is inhospitable.  Some seasons find us pinned down or weakened, while others require waiting for optimal conditions.  But no matter what season of life we find ourselves in, God is unmoved or unchanged…a rock in our garden.  Just like the rock in my garden, we tend to forget He is there.   I pray we all find ourselves pleasantly startled today by the realization that no matter how lush or barren your garden is this day He remains unmoved or changed.

“I love Thee, O Lord, my strength.  The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer.  My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge;  My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold”( Psalm 18:1-2)

           I love colored glass.  I’m not picky about the color or form.  Wine bottles, stained glass, vases, ornaments, candle holders, drinking glasses, glass beads….if the glass is colored and light passes through it I am attracted to it.  I’m not sure why I find such joy in looking at pretty colored glass.  Maybe it is because it always catches the light, and therefore my eye?  Maybe it’s because it changes things when you look through it and yet leaves what it changes unchanged?  

          For Mother’s Day this year my daughter gave me stained glass lessons!  She took me to a local studio and signed me up for 5 lessons working with a stained glass artist.  I was more excited than you can imagine.  First, because I would learn how to work with colored glass, and second, because it was such a thought filled gift from the young woman who has taken over my daughter’s body in the last year. 

          I have had the pleasure of three out of five of my classes so far.  I am not disappointed.  I am having a great time and the instructor is more than patient with my efforts.  I have always admired glass from a distance, but now I am learning more and more about its wonderful properties and possibilities.

          The first lesson was learning how to break the glass.  I soon discovered that one does not “break” glass, we “separate” it from itself.  With skilled hands the instructor scored the glass first.  This causes all the molecules that are lined up and locked into position to become disordered and weakened.  This weakness along the line’s edges allows the two sections to be easily separated from each other.  A little tapping helps to encourage separation.

          Soon it was time to pick the glass colors and design I would work on for my first project.  I chose a pattern which required only about 10 pieces and 3 colors.  Patiently the instructor showed me sheet after sheet of glass tiles.  I could have spent all day looking at the color variations and textures.  I finally chose three colors.  Over the last few classes I have “separated” many sections into distinct shapes, learned to grind and prep the edges and am in the final stage of learning how to cover the edges with copper foil prior to soldering.  So much attention to detail and so much fun! 

          I am looking forward to seeing the final product.    For now I simply have a bag of glass.  Shards, once part of a larger pane, are now separated, ground, and lined with copper.   I proudly carry my bag of glass home to show my family my work in progress.  I like the tinkling sound the pieces make as they slide against each other in the bag.  I like how already I can place them like parts of a puzzle and see the pattern taking shape.  I like knowing that collectively the beauty of the glass pieces will be better than the jagged parts they once were.  I like that even though the glass is fragile, my efforts will result in a stained glass panel that could last for generations beyond my own. 

            I think people are like my glass project at times.  Everyone has their own beauty or unique quality.  Like the original glass tiles, each is precious individually.  God allows some “scoring” in our lives, a weakening that causes us to depend on Him.  We endure a season of breaking, “separating”.    This is not always a loud, crashing, cracking crisis.  “Separating” is the small tap or constant pressure at our weakest places and times.  We become smaller in some ways.  At first we are only remnants of what we once thought we were, and then we are reshaped for His purpose.   The friction of challenges we face will grind our sharp edges and prepare us for the next step in His creative process.  God will align us in relationships, with symmetry and carefully choreographed colors and textures.   God takes the part of us He has prepared and fits us to one another.  We are more brilliant, beautiful and enduring because we are a part of His bigger picture and final image.  When all is done, we are His masterpiece, a work that reflects His care to detail. 

But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as He wanted them to be. (1Cor.12:18)

I like that.  I may be the oddly shaped piece, the dull color, or a tiny sliver of glass, but I AM PART OF HIS PLAN and have a place in His creation.