Oct 17, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
In the hustle and bustle of our everyday lives, I suspect we all are unaware of many things that we take for granted.
To take something for granted is to not appreciate its full value. This can occur for something that we experience on a day-to-day basis, and so we become accustomed to its availability. For example, we often forget how valuable food, clean water and shelter are to us — or even our many freedoms — until we don’t have them.
To take someone for granted is to not acknowledge the difference they make in our lives. This may mean not showing appreciation to our parents, teachers or siblings for the help they give us throughout our lives. In addition, we probably never think about many other people without whom our world would be very different. People with essential skills and responsibilities such as tradesmen, engineers and factory workers, who in turn make available and accessible the many things we tend to take for granted.
I’m reminded of a story I was recently introduced to — the life story of Charles Plumb, a U.S. Naval Academy graduate who was a jet fighter pilot in Vietnam. After 75 combat missions, his plane was destroyed by a surface-to-air missile. Plumb ejected and parachuted into enemy hands and spent six years in a communist prison camp. He survived his ordeal and now lectures on lessons learned from his experience. It was one of his lessons that a friend shared with me.
Apparently, Plumb and his wife were in a restaurant one evening when a man who had been sitting at another table approached. This man recognized Plumb and knew he had flown jet fighters from the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk during the Vietnam War. And, he knew Plumb had been shot down. To Plumb’s surprise, this man served on the same carrier, and Plumb was even more surprised to learn this man had packed his parachute the day he was shot down. With this news they shook hands, and the man exclaimed, “I guess it worked!” Plumb expressed his gratitude, responding, “It sure did. If your chute hadn’t worked, I wouldn’t be here today.”
While that was the end of their exchange, the incident kept Plumb from sleeping that night. He tried to imagine the man in his Navy uniform and wondered how many times he could have seen him in passing without any acknowledgment. Fighter pilots had a tendency to not give much attention to those who were “just sailors,” Plumb said. But now, Plumb said he couldn’t stop thinking about the many hours this sailor had spent “weaving the shrouds and folding the silks of each chute, holding in his hands each time the fate of someone he didn’t know.”
Since this encounter, Plumb started asking his audiences, “Who’s packing your parachute?”
Plumb, of course, wasn’t referring to a physical parachute like the one this sailor had packed for him. In fact, Plumb says he needed many other kinds of parachutes to survive his six-year experience in the hands of his enemies and also mentions his mental, emotional and spiritual parachutes. He reminds everyone to be sure we recognize all the people who pack our parachutes, which prepare us to weather whatever storms lie ahead in our lives.
And by the same token, perhaps we also should be asking ourselves, “How’s our parachute packing?” Our lives interconnect with many people during our lifetimes, and we knowingly, and sometimes unknowingly, make an impact and difference in the lives of the people who cross our paths. Parachute packing is important work, and the job we do could save a life. Sometimes I think we get so caught up in our everyday lives, we forget that we do make a difference, and that what we say and do matters to someone.
Perhaps, too, we have a tendency to focus too much on what is wrong in our lives. After all, we’re trained quite well by the news media, which generally accentuate the negative aspects of life — deaths, disasters, diseases. We probably all have days when we wonder if anything went right in the world. But an excess of the stressing all that’s bad about life can lead to a tendency to take for granted all that’s good. Sometimes we don’t realize what was good until it’s gone. We must not wait until we lose something to place a high value on what we have. We can begin now to appreciate, treasure and nurture all we’ve been blessed with.
I think one of our country’s greatest blessings is the U.S. soldier, who perhaps is best exemplified by the scripture: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:8).
When I think about things I take for granted — my air-conditioned home or clean running water, along with all the other comforts and luxuries my home includes — I can’t help but think about our soldiers serving in Iraq and Afghanistan and other parts of the world. Perhaps we could all give pause every day, not just on days like Memorial Day, and consider what yesterday was like for our soldiers — were they able to sleep; take a shower; have a hot, cooked meal; drink some cold water? We can make certain we don’t take for granted the sacrifices of America’s soldiers and make sure we’re thankful they are willing to be there for us and do whatever is asked of them. And, we can make sure we express our thanks when given the opportunity.
The peopling of the world is surely part of the divine design of Love. We are people who need people, and God has tenderly provided for the meeting of our needs with the gift of one another. May we someday let ourselves love one another; then not only will we never take anyone or anything for granted, but also we will have no basis for hatred or war.
Oct 17, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
The premise for this column began as a conversation with a friend who is a writer, Bible researcher and speaker to Bible-study groups. She also co-leads tours to the Holy Land, Greece, Egypt and Turkey. For years now I’ve been promising her that one of these days my husband and I were going to take a tour with her – and asking her to not give up on us. My most recent promise was made last week.
Her response back to me was a gentle reminder about seizing the moment — and a familiar Bible story. The story was about the blind fellow, Bartimaeus, when he was by the roadside outside Jericho. He realized that somewhere in the passing crowd, among pilgrims on their way to the Passover in Jerusalem, was Jesus of Nazareth. Desperately wanting to meet Jesus, he called out, was shushed by those around him, called out again … and was healed.
According to the Interpreter’s Bible, it was good that he was persistent and seized the moment, because, unbeknownst to him, and to almost everyone, this would be the last time Jesus would pass that way. This was Jesus’ last trip to Jerusalem, so Bartimaeus would not have another opportunity to have a one-on-one with him.
The Interpreter’s Bible tells us to be sure we seize the moment.
I immediately began thinking about many times in my life when I’ve not seized the moment. I’ve always had my reasons, of course. But now I’m trying to decide whether or not my reasons for missing some opportunities were good enough. And I’m asking myself, what is it that keeps me from seizing moments now?
Hoping to learn that I was not the ONLY person in the world who has this struggle, I decided to ask several friends what keeps them from seizing the moment.
“Fear” was high on the list of reasons for many folks — fear of what may happen, fear of failure, fear of change, fear of risk. Some said uncertainty about a decision — questioning if it’s the best thing to do — generally makes them afraid to act and so they don’t. One friend said: “Fear of what I think others are likely to think. Fear of disapproval by others has a paralyzing effect on my actions.” And still another said, “It’s when I evaluate things based on how I think others will think of me that I fail to seize the moment.”
Plain ol’ procrastination was the reason for some. Sometimes we put off seizing moments because of laziness. Or we hesitate to make a decision, so we put off thinking about it, only to realize later what should have been done or said. One friend said she likes to spend time in contemplation with God first thing in the morning, but some mornings she will think, “I’ll just do this one thing, and maybe just one more thing, and then I’ll get back to God.” But on mornings she does this, the day will be over, and she will not have even said good morning to Him.
Fretting over time rather than living in the eternal now keeps many from seizing the moment. In what I call the “Scarlett O’Hara” approach, we say, “Maybe tomorrow would be a better time,” but when tomorrow comes, it is too late. The moment, the opportunity, the possibility is gone with the wind.
Time excuses also can stem from stubbornness and rigidity or even indifference and inertia. As one friend put it: “My schedule is already too full, or there are already too many demands on my time. It’s easy to get so involved in the present moments that seem to cry for my attention, that I can fail to perceive a special opportunity to help someone.” Another said: “It didn’t seem that important at the time to follow through. It just didn’t register as anything special or offer any immediate interest.”
Sometimes it’s a matter of “my way” or “no way.” One friend said, “I had other plans at the time and didn’t want to change my plans.” I’m not saying changing our plans is always the thing to do in every situation, mind you, but still, perhaps it’s good to be flexible and spontaneous so that we leave some room for moments that could be seized.
How we view ourselves can greatly impact whether or not we seize moments. One friend said sometimes he looks more at his limitations and lets this view determine what he can do, think or appreciate. Such a view always makes us believe we don’t have the ability needed. Or we may just feel unworthy. Guilt often turns into an attitude of unworthiness.
Sometimes to seize or not to seize the moment becomes a battle of wills — human will or the divine. A friend said: “Maybe you know it’s right to do something, but you don’t let yourself. You let some reason sway you in a different direction.” She said she was reminded of the story of Jonah and the whale. “He tried to avoid seizing the moment and heeding God’s direction.”
But she did offer some good news and hope for those folks who are lamenting over moments they wish they had seized. She said, “If it’s a God-directed idea, I think the opportunity will arise again until it is acted upon.” Jonah did get a second opportunity to follow God’s direction.
Many people live their days so mired in the past or worried about the future that they remain unaware of the treasure of the present that they already possess. We can waste precious time worrying about some future moment. What often happens to me is that I worry about something that could happen. Then circumstances change, and whatever I was concerned about doesn’t even exist anymore. Priceless moments that could have been savored were lost. This reminds me of the song by Seals & Croft, “We may never pass this way again.” One verse encourages us to “Sail our ships out on the open seas, cast away our fears and all the years that come and go. … ” Yes, and enjoy each moment before it passes us by!
My husband and I have decided to not be so focused on making and saving money that we never take the time to enjoy life. And when we go on a vacation, we’re committed to being on vacation and not thinking about work waiting for us to do when we get home.
Savoring each moment of our lives brings joy and thankfulness for each life moment. I want to be willing to explore new territories, go places I’ve never been before. Life is fresh, exhilarating and full of limitless possibilities when we live fully and mindfully in the moment. Our comfort zone may be comfortable, but it also offers nothing new. As singer Lee Ann Womack sang, “And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance.”
It’s easier to seize the moment when we live our lives as minutemen and minutewomen. During the American Revolutionary War, the minuteman was an armed man pledged to be ready to fight on a minute’s notice. But being a minuteman is not about being in a hurry. Perhaps Americans have become too consumed by a need to hurry, evidenced by such inventions as airplanes, television, computers, email, microwave ovens, cell phones, express checkout lanes and fast food.
Being a minuteman and minutewoman is not dancing too fast. As someone put it, “Life is not a race.” Slow down and enjoy the dance. God will reveal to us the “what and how.” We need only be willing, waiting, faithful and obedient to seize the moment. God will do the rest.
Oct 17, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
June 6, 1944, is famously known as “D-day,” which marked the day during World War II that the Battle of Normandy began, commencing the Western Allied effort to liberate mainland Europe from Nazi occupation. President Franklin D. Roosevelt described that June day to Americans as a “mighty endeavor” — an effort “to preserve … our civilization and to set free a suffering humanity.”
In military terms, “D-day” denotes the day on which a combat attack or operation is to be initiated. Its broader, general definition and usage designates the day that some significant event will occur or has occurred.
No doubt, each of our lives has been filled with significant events that have shaped us into who we are today. Perhaps these events are positive or negative in and of themselves, but nevertheless, they have become momentous and transforming landmarks in our life journeys.
Jesus had his share of “D-days,” as well. I think one was that day in a Nazareth synagogue when he read from the book of the prophet Esaias (Isaiah): “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord” (Luke 4:18-19). Then, after closing the book, he announced, “This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears” (Luke 4:21).
This bold and public announcement, it seems to me, marked his commitment to the mission he would go about fulfilling in the next three years of his life — a mission that is still revolutionizing humanity today.
Sometimes “D-days” are planned and expected and sometimes not. A “D-day,” for example, could be the day you got married or your child was born, the day a loved one passed on or you lost your job, the day you moved to a new city or graduated from college, the day you bought your first house or the day a hurricane destroyed it. Whether planned or not, days like this change your life or the course of your life in some dramatic way.
A “D-day” might also be the day you reached a major decision, gleaned a life-altering revelation, experienced or witnessed healing. I often like to imagine not only the many people who were healed by Jesus but also the impact on the folks who witnessed those healings. Such as the time Jesus healed a man lying on his bed, sick of the palsy. After Jesus healed him, we read, “But when the multitudes saw it, they marveled, and glorified God, which had given such power unto men” (Matthew 9:8). I know myself, when I see or read of healings through prayer and divine revelation experienced by others, I am filled with hope, and my faith, confidence and expectancy of healing in my own experience become emboldened and reassured.
It seems many of my most memorable “D-days” are ones that were my mightiest trials. Yes, it’s been my challenges and heartbreaks that, quickly or eventually, pointed me in a Godward direction toward healing solutions. Again and again, I’ve learned that trials are overcome more readily with a divine staff in hand.
I’ve come to think of trials as temptations to believe that God is both good and evil or that God creates and sends evil or purposefully wants His children to be inflicted by evil. But we read in the book of James, “Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God: for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man” (James 1:13). So I’ve come to think of trials — however bad — as opportunities to conquer the seeming power of evil and prove it powerless in my life. The most difficult trials in my life journey are the ones that have prompted epoch-marking stages of growth and progress.
When faced with “D-days” we haven’t planned or wanted, we may exclaim, “Why, Lord?” In such times, I find encouragement in the fact that even Jesus had to face temptations. We read in the book of Matthew of Jesus being “tempted by the devil” in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1-11). Each time Jesus was confronted with a temptation, he immediately refuted it with a spiritual law of God.
We can do the same ourselves, when we’re faced with a temptation that suggests evil as a power and that we’re defenseless or helpless. Acknowledging and affirming the omnipotence and omnipresence of God’s law and word can enable us to defeat any evil temptation, just as Jesus did.
What I love most in reading about the temptations Jesus encountered and mastered is that after he had clearly won his battle, “angels came and ministered unto him.” It’s encouraging to know that when we grapple with our own temptations and prevail over them, we will have God’s angel messages of comfort and strength lifting us and sustaining us.
There’s a passage in the book of James which buoys my courage for any future unsought “D-days.” And Mary Baker Eddy’s definition of two words in this passage enhances its meaning. “Blessed is the man that endureth (overcometh) temptation: for when he is tried (proved faithful), he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him” (James 1:12).
Whatever the “D-days” in our lives, I think these monumental days become waymarks that guide us onward toward understanding the truth of our spirituality. And this truth liberates us from any evil trying to occupy our mind, body and spirit.
Oct 17, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
“On a wing and a prayer” is a phrase that originated in 1943 with the World War II patriotic song “Coming in on a Wing and a Prayer.” The song tells of a damaged warplane that is barely able to limp back to its base. Apparently, this popular phrase sometimes has been mistakenly stated as “on a whim and a prayer” or “on a wink and a prayer.”
Perhaps these misuses have occurred because some people tend to think that “on a wing,” “on a whim” or “on a wink” have similar connotations — such as an uncertain hope or perhaps a shaky faith or unlikely possibility. But to me, the song inspires anything but uncertainty or unlikelihood in its words: “Though there’s one motor gone, we can still carry on, comin’ in on a wing and a prayer.” No, there doesn’t seem to be any doubt in the minds of those on the crippled plane that they will most certainly make it home.
I suspect that most soldiers know the words to Psalm 91 all too well. In fact, to many soldiers I know, this psalm is their daily prayer: “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler … ”
The imagery in this powerful psalm became the basis for “On Eagle’s Wings,” a song that has been sung at many Air Force weddings, like that of my daughter and son-in-law, who is a bombardier on a B-52. The chorus of this song vows, “He will raise you up on eagle’s wings … ”
The words in this song and psalm compelled my purchase of a painting that shows an American eagle with wings spread, soaring across a roaring river and treetops, with mountain peaks in the background. When I gaze upon this eagle’s wings, I feel its mastery and majesty, and I have no doubt she will reach her journey’s end. This image inspires a sense of security and calm which affirms that the omnipotence and omnipresence of God can be leaned upon and trusted.
Doubts can confuse and confound us and cause us to forget that God is indeed present and powerful. Remember what happened to Peter when he doubted.
Jesus had told his disciples to get into a ship. After he had concluded his meeting with the multitudes and had gone up into a mountain to pray, he came down to join his disciples. He saw that the ship was in the midst of the sea being tossed by wind and waves. Jesus walked on the sea and approached the ship. After he assured the disciples that it was he and not a ghost who was approaching, Peter asked that he walk on the sea to meet the Master. And indeed, for a short time, Peter walked on the sea toward Jesus. But since the wind and waves continued to be strong, he became afraid and started to sink in the water and cried for Jesus to save him. After Jesus caught Peter, he said, “O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?” (Matthew 14:31)
Do you feel the need for some protection from life’s stresses and problems? Perhaps you are longing to escape from a difficult situation? Or maybe your dad, husband, brother or son is not at home with you this Father’s Day and you’re struggling to find the peace of mind that assures you he will return home safely. Perhaps your heart is filled with doubts that there can be certainty, protection, solutions, help, healing.
My daughter had times when she struggled with doubts when her husband was on his first deployment overseas. She took her doubts to God in prayer and told me: “I affirm that he can never for one millisecond be separated from God. He’s always encompassed in God’s love. I know that whatever he is faced with, he’s protected. In my prayers, I affirm there’s nothing my husband can’t handle, because God is always there to guide him. He’ll have the clarity he needs and will be receptive to the ideas he needs to make the right decisions — and not only my husband, but also the entire crew on his plane. They will all make the right decisions to stay safe.”
She said further: “Relying on God’s power and control has helped me overcome illnesses and other challenges in my life. Remembering these experiences and reading about others’ healing and life-transforming experiences increases my faith now and supports my peace. They give me reason to pray for my husband and trust in my prayers. So I don’t dwell on doubts and fears anymore. I’ve found a peace. As a military wife, you have to find your peace — whatever that means to you.”
“On a wing and a prayer” is not based upon the uncertainty of human muster and willpower but is a pronouncement of promise. It speaks of God’s divine sheltering and mighty wing, which is unwavering, unfaltering and forever protecting us and taking us on a sure and certain flight to confidently reach our destination.
Oct 17, 2006 |
I should have … I could have … If only I would have …
How much time do you spend thinking about what might have been? This is a question that reminds me of a favorite country-western song. The lyrics include the phrases “I try not to think about what might have been, ’cause that was then … there’s no way to know what might have been.” Even though we know better, still we lament and often pine over what might have been.
Researchers on the subject of “regrets” have concluded the biggest secret regret is omission — not doing something you feel you should have done. In fact, researchers say we are often haunted by the inactions of our lives. The top four regrets stated by study participants are: not getting more education, career regrets, regrets in love, and not spending enough time with kids.
It seems harboring regret is not good for your health and reportedly leads to depression and even physical illness. A university study in the journal Psychology and Aging shows that older people who have less severe regrets have fewer health problems and sleep better at night, too.
Is there ever a time when regret is positive and helpful? Certainly the lessons that can come with regrets and the wisdom we glean can help us make changes so we don’t repeat mistakes or bad choices. The famous parable of the “prodigal son” told by Jesus and recorded in Luke 15:11-24 illustrates the usefulness of regret that leads to genuine repentance and opens the door to progress.
It was the story of two sons. The younger son asked his father to give him his inheritance. Soon this young son headed out on his own, but it didn’t take him long to waste everything he had been given and end up penniless. Because the son was barely surviving, he recognized and admitted the error of his ways and longed to return to his father. He wanted to tell his father that although he was no longer worthy to be called his son, he hoped his father would hire him as a servant. But the father gave his son’s remorseful remarks little heed. He loved his son unconditionally and wanted only to celebrate his son’s safe return home.
I would imagine that the father was probably also inwardly grateful to witness his son’s humble and penitent return but was not the type of father who would have belabored his son’s regret. There would have been no productive reason to do so. I’m learning that this is also true for how I treat myself.
Call it failed expectations or perhaps lost opportunities, looking back on my life lately, I’ve been struggling to overcome feelings of regret. When I shared these feelings with my husband, he asked me, “What would you have done differently?” The crazy thing is that I actually didn’t have an answer. It’s not that I would want to change any particular one thing in my life. I’ve loved every moment of my life to this day. I’ve just been overcome with sadness and disappointment that somehow I’ve missed doing something or it’s too late to do some things. And I’ve been reliving this sadness daily.
I’m beginning to see what the father of the prodigal son must have known, that rehashing regret serves no good purpose. I can see that regret interferes with happy, productive living and restricts motivation to move forward. I’m realizing if there is something I really want to do, that I can do it. Nothing is stopping me but my own inaction.
The fact is, God has always been working out His purpose in my life, and there is no reason for me to think that His plan is not going to continue for the remainder of my days. There isn’t an end to God’s direction or the goodness He provides, so I certainly don’t need to fear any such end just because I’ve reached the so-called middle age of my life. No doubt, we can’t even begin to imagine all the good that God has for us. As Paul says, “Eye hath not seen, not ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).
As always in my prayers, I’ve learned that I must begin with my view of God, and this view can help free me from any stifling feelings of needless regret. God is infinite good, and I am, as we all are, the expression of the Infinite. Everything God gives is also infinite. I guess I’ve been thinking of my experiences, or possibilities for experiences, as somehow finite, and yet God provides infinite possibilities for blessing our lives.
This is not a new lesson for me. I know I must change the view of myself from being limited or bewildered to what God is always knowing and seeing in me and for me. And I know this viewpoint will enable me to see the infinite possibilities that are indeed present now and in the future — possibilities that bring joy, fun, fulfillment, satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment. So, I’m putting “what might have been” behind me and focusing my gaze on what is yet to be — on what I shall do, what I can do, what I will do.
