Heart Monitor

 

My husband’s recent adventures have brought into our lives many marvels of technology – CT scans, ultrasounds, tiny cameras which can roam around inside a body and report to a large screen, pressure socks, automatic dispensing pumps, blood tests which can read levels of salt, sugar, platelets, white cells, iron. When those amazing tools were operated by a qualified doctor or technician, I was awed and thankful.

In the hospital, he had a heart monitor with wires all over his body, which reported to the nurses’ station. Occasionally, that report brought down a team of concerned individuals to his bedside. The cardiologist decided he needed to wear a heart monitor for 30 days. And I was the one designated to operate it. I was not awed and thankful; I was dismayed and apprehensive, but mostly terrified.

As it turns out, it is a small device, there are no wires and it’s simple to use. It came with directions in a written manual.  A tiny monitor on his chest reports to a cell phone on his belt which sends data to some unknown (to us) entity in Houston. We know only one detail which it reports; the monitor probably sends a great many details about his heart which we neither know nor understand. The cardiologist will figure out what all that means. We are expected to report to the cell phone menu any obvious external symptoms, such as shortness of breath, dizziness and the like.

 I’m not terribly imaginative; you really have to set things right in front of me and explain them, preferably in writing. Well, this experience has done so. Our spiritual hearts have a monitor, which, whether we like it or not, reports directly to God. He always knows the health of our hearts in detail. He told Jeremiah, “I the Lord search the heart and test the mind.” The only way we could keep Houston from knowing certain details of Paul’s heart activity would be to turn off the monitor. That would be counter-productive to the goal of diagnosing and healing. However, we do not have that “off” switch to keep God from knowing the state of our spiritual heart. Unlike the physical heart monitor, fortunately, He has told us what details He is looking for, and we can control those details.

 Yes, control over our own hearts can be difficult. Paul the Apostle wrote a treatise agonizing over that difficulty. God expects a response from us, in the form of self-reporting. If the meditations of our heart are not acceptable to Him, He wants confession and repentance. All this because he wants to love us and care for us and He cannot do so if we turn away from Him.

So I ask myself, “What aspects of your thoughts and attitudes do you wish He could not ‘monitor?’ What do you want to do about that?”

 The first step is to “love the Lord your God with all your heart.” Blessedly, we don’t have to fix our malfunctioning hearts by ourselves; in fact, we cannot. He wants to cure us and He has the power to do so. But He requires our cooperation. He’s given us the instructions in the operating manual we call the Bible. We just need to follow it, as King David did, with our whole hearts.

 --Lynda Shenefield

A Few of My Favorite Things--redux

( Someone--that would be me, Sherry Poff--goofed and failed to assign anyone to write for this week's Cup. I have reached back into the archives and found this gem written by Lynda about four years ago. It speaks to me, as I have been in the midst of doing some cleaning out. I know it will bless you as well.)

In obedience to a recent suggestion from our insurance agent, I set about photographing and listing our possessions. I told him it didn’t seem important, as our things are few and old. But he wanted to talk about “replacement value.” So I dutifully laid out and cataloged all our worldly goods. If you haven’t done it, you should. Not for your insurance agent; for yourself. It’s an eye-opener.

To no one in American culture would we seem affluent, but this girl who grew up dirt-poor felt rich, rich, rich when thinking of replacement value. At the same time, I began to feel burdened with “stuff.” How many Phillips screwdrivers do we really need? (And with all these in the house, why can I not find the size I need when I want one?) Do I really want to give the storage space to these fabrics I have had for so long?

I thought about the photos our missionaries to Africa have shown us of families whose possessions are a one-room home with mud walls, sleeping mats, a water jug and a cooking pot, and the clothes on their backs. If the lady of the hut is a Christian, what, of value, do I have that she does not?

Luke 12:13-15 tells us, ^“Someone in the crowd said to him, ‘Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.’ But he said to him, ‘Man, who made me a judge or arbitrator over you?’ And he said to them, ‘Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.’”

At that point, Jesus told the parable of the rich man and his new barns, concluding with, ^“But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God.” ESV

What difference does it make whether our items are many or few, valuable or worthless, if one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions?

Some items are irreplaceable, like my mother’s 1950 china cabinet and the yo-yo doll my grandmother made. But what difference does it make, if one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions?

Do I place undue value on my world treasures, compared to my God riches? Do I even recognize my God riches, or am I so absorbed in my world riches that I cannot see the valuable ones? Does “Count Your Blessings” turn into a recitation of “things”? Can I catalog my God riches? Probably not. Should I focus on things to which I cannot account definable value? Jesus thinks so.

Some ladies like to “shop ‘til you drop.” Not me; I hate shopping. Some delight in chasing after yard sales. I did formerly; now I feel I don’t have room for more stuff. Couponing is a favorite way of acquiring goods for many. I like the approach of a friend who said, years ago, “I just tell the Lord what I need and how much I can spend on it, and He brings it to me.” But, regardless of our methods of spending or saving or getting, these things do not have nearly the importance we assign them.

Jesus wants us to become rich. His riches are not in our bank accounts, living rooms, closets or storage sheds. The treasure is in His Word.

 --Lynda Shenefield

Those Who Mourn

 

I’ve been thinking about grief—deep sorrow. We can grieve so many things: people we miss, beloved pets, lost opportunities. Recently I was with a friend as she said goodbye to her canine companion of twelve years. I saw how hard it was for her to physically let go of her sweet little Maggie even after the dog grew still and unresponsive. Some of you understand the deep sorrow surrounding that loss.

Just a little over a year ago, during the first week of June, my family met on a mountaintop in West Virginia to say a formal goodbye to my dear brother. We lost him—or he went on before us to glory—in late 2020 during the height of the Covid epidemic. This June as I picked sweet peas from my backyard plants, I thought, The last time I picked these peas, we were on our way to Steven’s memorial. Last time these lilies bloomed, I was planning what to say at my brother’s service.

So many things remind us of our losses, and that is normal—even healthy, I think. The commonly acknowledged list of the stages of grief ends with acceptance.  Even though I feel I may never be able to accept some loss, I do learn to live with it, and perhaps that is a kind of acceptance.  We don’t “get over” our losses, but we do begin to see them as part of the formation of our lives.

In his book titled A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis notes that “the death of a beloved is an amputation.” He goes on to say that one learns to get on without the missing limb—a leg, say. One learns to get about with crutches or with an artificial leg. Of his own grief, Lewis says, “Perhaps I shall presently be given a wooden leg. But I shall never be a biped again.” He recognizes that life will never be the same.

Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” I have heard this entire passage completely spiritualized and applied only to grieving over sin, and I’m sure that is a valid application. But I am convinced that Jesus was also talking about other kinds of grief. When we mourn, we experience the sweetness of a hug in a different way. We treasure the friend who sits by or who carries us a cup of tea, who brings a plate of sandwiches or feeds the cat. In the midst of grief, details of life feel overwhelming, and what a blessing to find that there are those who love us enough to take care of those details.

God’s presence can be sweeter during sorrow than at any other time. I know why people send flowers to funerals or to cheer one another during hard times. The beauty of a flower or the simplicity of birdsong can be a balm, a reminder that God has built hope into our world and a preview of a world to come.

I was privileged to speak to the graduates of GBA at the 2020 graduation ceremony, and I said to them what we all know: We will eventually have new buildings to enjoy on our campus, but it will never be the same. This is what we accept. And then we look forward to what is to come. We have a gratefulness for the sweet memories we shared, an appreciation for the life and time we have left, and a determination to live for as long as God gives us in a way that is pleasing to him.

--Sherry Poff

The Whisper of the Colors

Growing up, one of my favorite movies was The Sound of Music.  In the classic song “My Favorite Things,” Maria encourages the von Trapp children to remember things that bring them joy, and thus overcome their fears. Likewise, there are so many things in God’s world that point us back to our Father when we take the time to notice and enjoy them. They whisper to our hearts to look up and see His smile. What are your favorite things that He has made?

 

The Whisper of the Colors

“Indeed these are the mere edges of His ways,

And how small a whisper we hear of Him!

But the thunder of His power who can understand?”

Job 26:14

 

My Father,

Thank You for colors in this world You made!

Vibrantly beautiful in majestic parade,

They whisper of Your glories - unceasingly displayed.

I think of You.

 

My soul lingers,

Soaking in beauty from the work of Your fingers.

Longing for the day when I see the Artist’s face,

And walk and talk with the Giver of Grace.

I think of You.

 

Red

Cardinals - bright spots of red against the winter snow.

Geraniums - cheery blossoms hanging in the window.

Strawberries - mouthwatering juiciness You made easy to grow.

I think of You.

 

Orange

Fall leaves in their variegated hues and mixes.

Sunsets and sunrises - daily color surprises.

Goldfish and clownfish, whose antics delight us.

I think of You.

 

Yellow

Daffodils bring promise that winter will depart.

Sunshine in spring gives a hug to my heart.

Lemonade in the summer, thirst-quenching and tart.

I think of You.

 

Green

Rolling emerald hills with white fluffy sheep.

Hunter green forest pines that tranquility keep.

Grass that feels cool and refreshing to feet.

I think of You.

 

Blue

From blue-gray oceans to glaciers teal,

You paint a thousand shades that make my heart thrill,

And sing with the bluebird’s joyful trill.

I think of You.

 

Violet

Lilacs and lavender with aromas so charming.

Incredible space galaxies with luster amazing.

Butterflies that flit in and out of sight darting.

I think of You.

 

Brown

Wood grain - the story of a sturdy, strong tree.

Velvet coat of a horse or puppy, stroked fondly. 

Mud puddles made pretty by children’s ecstasy.

I think of You.

 

This is Your world.

Thank You for making me part of it.

Your glories have yet to be fully unfurled,

But the whisper I hear won’t let me forget.

I think of You.

-MaryBeth Hall

 

 

-MaryBeth Hall