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Hiding Under the Blanket

10/24/2013

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When Reese was little more than a baby, she started hiding from me. She would do it when we were sitting next to each other on the couch. She would do it without really going anywhere.

Without warning, Reese would bury her face in her hands, in the couch, or in her blanket. Once she even buried her face in my armpit. I could still see Reese, of course. But, I’d play along. That was my job as a father.

Another part of my job was saying things like, “Where’s Karyssa? She was here a second ago? I already miss her? Come back, Reese, come back!” Sometimes Reese would say something back to me, and so I’d respond, “Now I’m really worried. I can hear Reese, but I can’t see her. This is strange, very strange indeed.”

When Reese felt it had gone on long enough, she would dramatically reveal her face. I would be required by the unspoken rules of the game to exclaim, “There she is!” Ridiculous, I know. But fun.

In so many instances, I have found that being a parent is a way to imagine a little of what it might be like to be God. Playing this game with Reese was one of those instances where I found this to be true.

It occurred to me that from God’s perspective when I occasionally tell the Lord to get lost and run away I must look a bit like Reese did to me when she “hid” from me on the couch. Sure Reese’s game was fun play, and my little rebellions against God are certainly not, but the picture still seems to fit.

I imagine Jonah looked a little like Reese when God told him to go and preach repentance to Nineveh, and Jonah responded by running in the exact opposite direction.

It seems to me that when I (or perhaps even you) “run” from God we may just be hiding our eyes and thrusting our face in God’s armpit. In other words, we think we are going far away, but we’re not really going too far after all.

The singer of Psalm 139 meant put it well when he sang:

7Where can I go from your spirit, O Lord? Or where can I flee from your presence? 8If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in the land of the dead, you are there. 9If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, 10even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.

And realizing the silliness of this “game” we play with God reminds me of what Peter said in John chapter 6:

67So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” 68Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. 69We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

In short, whether we are trying to walk with God or trying to walk away from God, God is not ever too far away.

It seems to me that there are not many true-blue atheists in the world. You know, people who to the depths of their deepest being believe absolutely that that there is no God. But, there are tons of “functional atheists” on the loose, and I confess that sometimes, almost accidentally, I become one of them.

A functional atheist is someone who thinks that some god is out there somewhere, but just not where that particular person lives. God is “the man upstairs” as in a god not here, a god far away.

Functional atheists seem to believe that their daily, real lives, their hates and loves, their thoughts and actions are “hidden” from God. No matter what they say on Sunday, for the functional atheist God is not really there with them as they hash things out on Thursday.

But, what if I imagined this spiritual hiding were as silly and untrue as Reese’s “hiding” from me under the blanket while our knees touch as we sit beside one another in the living room?

Maybe then I would just give up on functional atheism and see God as a constant, interested presence in my life. Maybe then I would simply pray, “God, I trust you are there beside me. I trust that I have seen your heart in Jesus Christ. I trust you love me. So, I open my daily life to you. Guide me as you will. Fix in me what you will. No more games. Now I’m going to lower the blanket and take my face out of your armpit. Amen”

How would giving up the game change me as a person? How would it change you?

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Caught in the Middle

10/22/2013

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A few years ago, shortly after Reese became fully mobile, Mindy and I had our first intense, prolonged argument in her presence. 

The argument had the volume, language, and tone of a rough and tumble marital fight. And Reese was there, more or less, for most of it. We tried to move Reese out of the battlefield and into a different room, but she has never been good at staying in a different room when we want her to.

Reese kept coming back. She didn’t cry or really seem that upset, but, nonetheless, she was there to witness too much.

I’d like to say that her presence just shut down the argument, but it didn’t. However, at a point along the way we paused, picked Reese up, kissed each other, kissed Reese, and told her that we loved her and that we loved one another.

I don’t know what part of all that is “good” parenting and what part is “bad” parenting, although I have my guesses. But what I do know is that picking Reese up and affirming love in the midst of the conflict had a powerful and positive experience on me.

For one thing, it kept me grounded. The fight was over real issues, and the emotions boiling over were certainly real. But embracing Reese and reaffirming love in the midst of it called me to remember that the love present was much bigger and more powerful than the issues over which we fought. In other words, the love that binds us together was stronger than the anger working to divide us.

In an odd way it’s like Communion at the Table of Jesus. When we share the Table, we pause in the midst of an often conflicted, arguing world. We take food and drink to our lips. We recall that that this food and drink makes real to us the love of God known in the broken body of Jesus.

And this love far outweighs whatever divides. This grace, and not the rage, is at the center of all.

In picking up and loving on Reese, I also saw a new angle on a Bible scene I’d replayed in my mind for years. In Matthew chapter 18 the disciples are having an ugly debate, perhaps even a fight. They are wrestling over who is the greatest disciple. At that moment in the story, Jesus calls a little child forward and places her among his disciples.

Maybe the child was a stranger, or maybe she was one of the disciples’ own children. Maybe part of Jesus bringing the child into their midst was a way of saying something about accountability, about his disciples coming to their senses. Maybe a little bit of the scene is Jesus saying through the presence of the child, “Do you want to act like that in front of this little one?”

No, Jesus, I don’t want to be like that. I want to show this child your love flowing through me. And so, again and again, I come to your Table of peace. May your Life be food and drink for our lives as we play our parts in a beautiful but angry world. And may we always remember that your love is more than whatever seeks to divide us.



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Reese Punched a Boy

10/2/2013

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While Reese was still very young I remember taking her to school on a particular morning. In the few moments it took to sign her in and check with her caregivers, Reese did two things for the first time that I consider potentially life-defining.


First: before I left I looked at Reese, smiled, and said, “Bye! I love you.”


In response, she looked at me, smiled, and said, “Buh-eye! I ove uuuh.” Her words were clear enough that one of the other parents recognized and commented on them.

However, just before that breath-taking, wonderful moment Reese did something else.

She punched a boy. She hit him with a closed fist. She hit him in the chest, but it just as easily could have been the face. It probably would have been the face if Reese had not been so much shorter than her victim. As far as I could tell, all the boy had done was enter her personal space a little too much for Reese’s taste.

In less than two minutes two potentially life-shaping directions presented themselves. Loving expression. Violent action. In which direction will Reese move as she ages? In which direction will any of us move?

I know that moving in either direction is not always a clear, smooth, straight journey. It is But in our heart of hearts I think we can sense which direction we are moving – or sliding, as the case may be.

One of the most helpful definitions for “soul” that I have come across actually appeared not in a theology textbook, but in a book about relationships entitled Soul-Healing Love. The authors defined “soul” as the core energy that powers our lives, the thinking and feeling essence that animates our bodies. They saw “the soul” in this sense as the inner pool of our emotions, will, appetites, and memories. They called this pool our fundamental vitality, our soul.

A fundamental question for us at 18 months or 81 years is whether we are moving toward having a soul suited best for punching people or for telling them “I love you!” Another way of saying it: What is filling that “soul pool” within us that gives us our energy for living – more love or more violence?

Think about the thoughts you fan into flame or the entertainments you focus upon or the words that trip most easily off your tongue. Are they moving you toward greater love or toward greater violence? I remember C.S. Lewis putting this issue well. Lewis noted that with each decision we make we shape ourselves into a creature more fit for Heaven or into a creature more fit for Hell.

There are many things, for better or worse, we do not feel we have much control of in the world. The New Testament calls these things the “powers and principalities.” We may know them by other names such as The Market, The Pentagon, The Corporation, The Church, The Grave, etc., etc.

But this is one thing over which we do have a fair amount of control. In which direction do we move our souls?

I think this is one of the main ways I read Jesus’ “Sermon on the Mount” in Matthew chapters 5-7. In it Jesus explores what it looks like to live in the direction of the Kingdom of Heaven.  It is a difficult road, but a trip worth taking. And it is a journey Jesus does not ask us to take alone. He is willing to walk with us every of the way.

And, when it comes down to it, we will all take a journey somewhere by the steps of the daily decisions of our lives. Are we travelling toward more anger and bitterness? Or less? More fear and hatred of strangers and enemies? Or less? More confidence in God’s love breaking into our world through us? Or less?

Jesus said to people again and again as he journeyed around the Sea of Galilee, “Come, and follow me.” He is still saying it.


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    Author

    Robert here.



    This is something called a Reese Piece. Reese is a nickname for Karyssa, my daughter. 



    Each Reese Piece is a brief exploration of some way I sense God has spoken to me through her.

    God reaches us through the experiences and relationships of daily life. This seems obvious, but I find it’s something which is still easy for me to forget. 


    It is my prayer that “Reese Pieces” will encourage you to look for the ways the Lord is trying to reach you through the life you live each day and the people who populate it.

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