My seven siblings and I have what we call our “favorite” argument. 

We call it that for two reasons – one, it’s our favorite argument, and two, it’s about who was our dad’s favorite.

      Nancy says it was her because she was the firstborn, and everyone knows the firstborn is the favorite.�
      Gale says it was her because the kid you love the most is the one who’s having trouble, and since she claims to have had more trouble in her life than the rest of us have had, she feels she’s obviously been the favorite.
      Diana argues that Daddy’s nick name for her proves that she was the favorite. Why would you call your daughter “Pie Face” unless she was your favorite??
      Curly (Darrell) was the firstborn son…
      Nick was the one who really got into Daddy’s logging and trucking and heavy equipment…
      Russ was the one that followed Dad’s lead with accounting…
      Debby was the baby, and everyone knows the baby is the favorite…
      I am actually the seventh in the line-up, showing up in between Russ and Debby, and I like to remind my siblings that seven is the perfect number. This doesn’t seem to have convinced my siblings of anything, but I think it’s pretty compelling. On top of that, my dad once bought me a MOTORCYCLE. Granted, it was just a little Honda 90 (that I named Zelda), but this argument usually gets to my brothers, because he didn’t ever buy them motorcycles of any kind or even let them buy their own. (If you knew my brothers, you’d understand the wisdom here.)
 Once, just for some variety, we argued about who was mother’s favorite, which she found highly entertaining. We’re a rather boisterous group when we’re all together like that, and the stories and laughter occupied us for a couple of hours. The next time we all got together, Diana and Gale had T-shirts for each of which said “Mom likes me best” and a sweatshirt for my mother that said “Mom”. Yes, we took pictures!
      “I had spent my life knowing I was Daddy’s favorite,” reveals Nancy. “At his funeral, I realized each one of us knew we were his favorite.”
      As I think about it, my (fairly cranky) grandmother had observed the phenomenon long before we recognized it.  “I’ve never, in my entire life, seen EIGHT ‘only’ children!” I heard her complain one day. “You’re all SPOILED ROTTEN!” I don’t think she meant it as a compliment, but I rather liked the idea. Eight favorites! I’m cool with that!
 And as a parent, I get it. I only have two kids, but each one is my favorite. They are VERY different from each other, but I love each one as fully as if he/she were the only one. It doesn’t take both of them having the same great need at the very same time to get my attention – it just takes ONE of them having a need, whether it’s simple or complex, a delight to meet, or soul stretching.  Ever since the day they were born, I have known that if it ever actually came down to it, I would give up my very life for either one of them, no thought needed. I wouldn’t say, “Well, if both of them would benefit…” No! Only one of them would need me to do it.
      I have a little tiny glimpse, then, of how it is that the following thought from Ellen White can be possible: “The relations between God and each soul are as distinct and full as though there were not another soul upon the earth to share His watchcare, not another soul for whom He gave His beloved Son.” Steps to Christ, page 100
 Pretty cool to think about, isn’t it?  I’m God’s favorite!
      And so are you.
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 Questions: With God’s love so abundantly clear in Scripture, all around us in nature, in our hymns, in countless devotional writings, in His amazing work and presence in each life… Why do so many people struggle with feeling and believing that God doesn’t really love them? Have you struggled over this? Do you “get it” now? What is the best way to help people with this? What has helped (or hindered) you?

     We were strolling down the beach, barefoot, hand in hand, with the blush of Friday’s sunset in the soft summer air.  It seemed a good moment for a song like “Day is dying in the West” or “Wide, Wide as the Ocean”. Sure enough, a song came to me, but it wasn’t one of those. It was another one I’d learned as a child:

Herman met Sally on the beach one night

The sea was calm and the starfish were bright

He looked at her, and she looked at him

And it was: True love at first sight!

The story turns out to be a bit of a tragedy, however, for Herman’s family did NOT accept Sally. As only the Smothers Brothers could tell and sing the story, we learn that Herman was a lobster. And Sally was a crab. The chorus breaks the woeful news:

Crabs walk sideways and lobsters walk straight

And we won’t let you take her for a mate!

Growing up, I had a collection of Smothers Brothers records – about six of them, from their early, more innocent days – and I had those long-play vinyls memorized. I could recite their routines like “Mom always liked you best!” and “Cream of the ‘sparakeet soup” and “Black is the color of my love’s true hair”.  It has not just been years, it has been decades since I’ve heard those songs, but they’re still there in my mind and pop up at unexpected times. Like this one. And my husband is not as delighted by these songs as I am, so I kept this one to myself while we walked and while it went around and around and around in my head.

On another walk recently, friends and I spontaneously took turns starting theme songs to childhood sitcoms. We hadn’t heard them for decades, but they were back instantly:

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip …

A horse is a horse, of course, of course…

The bluest skies you’ve ever seen are in Seattle…

(Many of you know them, too, don’t you?)

Amazing, isn’t it, how the things we learned as children stick with us? My husband and his brother had never heard of the Smothers Brothers – they grew up on The Bible in Living Sound records and occasionally lapse into bits of conversation such as “Noooooooah! If you can hear me, and I know you can…”

My dad, who hadn’t attended church since his early 20’s, could, in his 60’s, still recite the Bible verses he had learned as a child in Sabbath School.

But back to Herman and Sally, the lobster and the crab. While I don’t have a problem with the silly little song itself, Sabbath was approaching and I really wanted to focus on something else. So I did what I often do when I’m trying to change my thoughts: I considered several alternatives (in this case, songs that fit the moment) and chose one:

Over and over, like a mighty sea,

Comes the love of Jesus, rolling over me!

It’s another catchy one, and more beautiful than ever with the waves rolling in over and over my feet. All weekend long, when my mind defaulted to “Crabs walk sideways and lobsters walk straight”, I chose to change channels. I chose “Over and over, like a mighty sea”. At one point, I started singing it aloud, and Jon joined in with the counter tune of “Over the sea, over the sea, Jesus, Saviour, pilot me…”

I love that song! Learned it as a little kid…

Knowing as we do how powerful those childhood lessons are, WHY WHY WHY do we so often waste them??? WHY do we spend so much time, even in our children’s Sabbath Schools, on empty (in my opinion) songs like… Well, maybe I’d better be careful here and not name any because I might name your favorites.

WHY are we so seldom teaching our children their memory verses anymore? WHY are we teaching them fewer and fewer songs of substance? In our homes, WHY are we watching so much random TV and so many worldly DVD’s and spending SO LITTLE time (if any) in family worship and teaching our children the Bible?

Were your parents intentional about teaching you spiritual songs? Did they lead you in memorizing Bible passages? Did anyone give you any helpful guidance about what to put in your mind along the way? What difference did it make in your life?

What wisdom do you have for today’s parents and children’s ministries leaders on this issue?

 The Lord was certainly going to pull me through my highly stressful week, but my sister’s call caught me at a grumpy, faithless moment. “I can’t believe everything I do for these people!” was the essence of my attitude as I poured out my woe. “Somebody should give me a plaque!”

                Always quick to recognize and encourage people, Diana sent me something far better than a plaque – she sent a giant, gorgeous bouquet of flowers. She told the florist to sign every family member’s name under a familiar saying: “You never cease to amaze us!”

It was a great thought, but the florist didn’t get it quite right. Imagine my confusion when accompanying such a beautiful arrangement of flowers was a card that said, “You never seem to admire us.”

                Though somewhat perplexed by the message, I knew Diana’s heart, recognized the thoughtfulness of the flowers, and called to thank her. “They’re beautiful!” I told her answering machine. “I was puzzled by the note – that I never seem to admire you – I do admire you, in fact I admire you a lot, and I’m sorry I haven’t communicated that better, and I promise to be more affirming in the future…”

                It didn’t take her long to call me back. “The card was supposed to say,” and she treated this very much like an announcement, “YOU NEVER CEASE TO AMAZE US!!” We had a good laugh over it, but her frustration was thinly disguised. “I’m going to make them send you another card!” she promised.

                “Don’t worry about it!” I assured her. “This will make a wonderful story!”

                “I wasn’t trying to send you another story,“ she insisted. “I was trying to send you words of affirmation!”

                A few days later, an oversized, elegant card arrived in the mail from the florist. Inside was a very carefully written message, but I had to read it again to make sure I had read it right. It said, “You never seem to amaze us”!!!

                The two other gals in my office had gotten in on the first card and we laughed until all three of us had tears rolling down our cheeks. I called my mother and we laughed some more. “Whatever you do,” I urged her, “Please don’t tell Diana!” But what did I do next? I called Diana! It was just too good! I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it from her!

                “SO HELP ME,” she determined, “I’m going to make them do this over until they get it right!”

                “Maybe you should just write the card yourself,” I suggested.

                “I’m on my way to Hallmark right now!”  she answered, and I believed her. And she did send me a gorgeous card – with the right message – which I still have (along with the other two, but don’t tell Diana that).

                In spite of the frustration, we have laughed over those cards many times since.  “You never cease to amaze us!” has become a standard saying in our family. We’ve also wondered… What would have happened if someone else had gotten a card like that? We know people who would have been deeply offended, but would never have mentioned or clarified it, and would have carried bitterness and hostility over it for years. What a tragedy that would have been!

                It is soooo easy to have misunderstandings between people, isn’t it? My observation is that God has the same trouble.  There are several reasons, but one of them is that He does so much communicating through florists – through you and me! – and we don’t always get the message straight!

                I knew Diana’s heart, so when something came up that I didn’t understand, I could give her the benefit of the doubt as I went to her for some clarification. With God, even though we “see through a glass darkly”*, we do know His heart. We may not always understand His messages, and can’t at the moment go to Him face to face, but one day we will. And when he explains it, everything will make sense.

So I’m interested in a couple of things:

(1) Whether or not they’ve had a happy ending, what are some of the misunderstandings you’ve had with people? What did it take to get things straightened out? How could they have been avoided?

(2) As God’s “florists”, how can we make sure we are communicating His word accurately to people? How can we “test” the messages other people are giving for Him? Has there ever been a time you misunderstood God? How did you get things straightened out?

*1 Corinthians 13:12      

My daughter grew up a vegetarian. She’s never had a hamburger or a piece of chicken or even one little bite of smoked Alaskan salmon.  

HOW could anyone go HUNTING? she’d wonder. And FISHING?? Just the thought of all those shiny, slimy things thrashing around on the bottom of the boat could make her shudder.

                Which is why I couldn’t help but smile when she married into a family that not only EATS fish… They FISH. In ALASKA. Every summer. And why I did more than smile when she told me a few days ago that this summer, SHE is going fishing, too.

                “Wow!” I said. “That will be a lot of really hard, physical work!”

                “I think I’ll do fine,” she reassured me, “once I get past all the fish.”

                We both laughed, because, of course the fish are the point.

                It reminded me of a day, early in my nine years on staff at a boarding academy, when a few of the kids had been a little, well, difficult. “This job would be great,” I quipped to a fellow staff member, “if it weren’t for all the teenagers.” (We smiled. The kids were the point. We loved those kids!)

                It also reminds me of the time I heard someone wondering what to do with some of the new church members that had come in through a recent evangelistic series.  I don’t remember exactly what the concerns were, but I got the idea that these people were messing things up. You know how new people can mess things up — They have all these crazy ideas about what might be fun at the Saturday night social, and they bring scary-looking things to potluck, and they throw off the long-established seating arrangement for church. Their new-to-Sabbath School kids can create havoc, not to mention that some of them have habits and social lives that are, well, complicated.

                When Jesus used fishing as an analogy for soul winning, I imagine He was simply using something familiar to the fishermen to illustrate the new focus of their lives. When it comes to casting the vision of gathering in a lot of people – and that it takes a lot of work – the imagery is profound. Maybe an additional point is that fishing can be messy. (The cross sure was.) But those “messy” people… they’re the point, right?

We love people, of course, and we love it when they come to the Lord and to our church. It’s just that in some circumstances we don’t know quite how to live out that love. As you have observed new members being assimilated into the life and, yes, culture of our church, what have you observed? Has it ever required some extra wisdom, some extra love? What did love look like under those circumstances?

 Were you once one of those “messy” fish? Are you still? What did people do, or do you wish they would do, to help you transition into the Christian life and into the church?

PS It is likely that my daughter will be on the boat as you read this… Say a prayer for her! J

Her divorce was still a very fresh wound when she began coming to church. She soaked up the hugs of welcome in the foyer, glowed over each new discovery in her Sabbath School class and was moved to tears by the music during worship. She felt she had finally arrived home! So when she read in the bulletin that there was going to be a fellowship potluck…

You can guess where this is going, can’t you? She spent both money and time that she didn’t have to prepare the most beautiful chicken enchiladas you have ever seen. She delivered them to the kitchen like a wise man delivering myrrh and didn’t even notice the subdued reaction of the women in the kitchen.

Once the blessing was said and the feasting had begun, she scanned the heavily laden serving tables for her dish. Oh well, she thought at first, there is still more food coming out…

Eventually, she ventured into the kitchen to investigate and quickly caught on to the fact that her dish had been set aside. It had not even been heated up, and it became apparent to her that the omission had been on purpose.

“Well, why would you bring meat?” one of the women asked her. “Don’t you know we are vegetarians here?” The newcomer was devastated and humiliated.

You may have heard of such stories – or even experienced something similar yourself. In my mind, it’s a classic example of the struggle between “doing what is right” (keeping meat off the potluck table) and being loving (putting out her dish). Really?? “Doing what is right” and being loving are mutually exclusive??

And, yes, while Jesus should be at the center of our thoughts and actions, you and I both know seemingly petty issues often crowd to the forefront, pushing Him aside. They’re common to all relationships, and our church is no exception.

 I became a vegetarian at age 16 (much to the quiet dismay of my parents) so it has been a long time since I’ve had meat. While I actually would not have a “moral” problem with eating chicken enchiladas, can I be honest with you? It’s been so long… The idea just grosses me out! I am one of those who would not appreciate accidentally getting chicken enchiladas.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a health fanatic. (As I explained to my neighbor recently, “I’m a vegetarian, but I haven’t given up sugar!”) Even so, I am fairly health conscious and am also, among other things, the Health Ministries Director for the Oregon Conference. I wish Adventist church potlucks were consistently a gorgeous display of the most creative, appealing plant-based cuisine you can imagine. There is clearly some work to do here – some educating, some culture change.

Even then, however, the question would still be with us, the question this blog is built on: What does loving someone look like in this case? If you put out the chicken enchiladas and nobody took any, and she found out later that most people there were vegetarians, couldn’t that be just as embarrassing for her? Could it be that some “loving” could be done ahead of time in the form of some education and consensus building? But even after doing that, if someone brings chicken enchiladas – or cheese enchiladas, or Jello salad or a sugary dessert – what is the appropriate, loving response? What if it’s a person who “knows better”?

Many of our churches do not have these problems, however some of our people do need to hear from YOU about this…

I’d love to see your comments below. It may take a day or so for them to appear, but they will.

Loving thy neighbor is one thing, but loving the saints?…

She didn’t like my story!  I was amazed to hear this, because I have been telling that story all around the Northwest for years, and everyone else had liked it. Now this woman was sitting in my office, expressly for the purpose of questioning the whole point of my story and wondering just how she could possibly apply it in her church.

The gist of my story was this: One week, a visitor played a piano solo for special music in our church. She hadn’t played perfectly, but she had played with her whole heart and soul. When she sat back down directly in front of me, I fumbled around through my bulletin, found an insert that was blank on the back, and wrote her a note. It simply said: “Thank you for your beautiful music! I heard your heart, and was blessed.” I folded it up, handed it forward, and watched.

She read the note… then burst into tears and went running out of the church! 

I sat there feeling pretty badly, remembering with a new perspective my mother’s insistence that I not write notes in church…

Later, I learned how the pianist’s husband had related to her piano playing. “I get so tired of hearing you practice!” he told her, agitated. “And you make so many mistakes when you play in church – It embarrasses me!” He told her those kinds of things so often that she had given up the piano for a full decade. Not long before her performance in our church, she had secretly taken it up again, and this was her first time back playing in public. He was not there, so she had braved it.

Once I learned this, I understood why she had such a profound reaction to my very simple little note. My point to my audiences was about loving one another through encouraging, affirming words. We don’t want people to give up the development of their spiritual gifts, do we? No, we want them to continue playing the piano, writing, teaching, preparing potlucks…

“The problem is,” the woman in my office was saying, “We have a soloist that we DO wish would stop singing! His singing isn’t just embarrassing — it gives us all a headache! When we see him after the service, he expects a compliment, and sometimes I can spit out some sort of thank you, but it’s just not sincere. Most of us have stopped asking him, but he always finds a way. If there is a special program, he goes to the program planner and let’s them know that he has prepared a special number for it, and gives them the information. Nobody has the nerve or the heart to tell him he’s a terrible singer and that we don’t want him to sing anymore. We know it would break his heart, and he’d probably leave the church over it, so we try to bear with it, but I don’t think we can stand it much longer. What should we do?”

Well… What should they do? When Jesus implores us to “love one another”, what would that look like in this case? Is it more important to “love” and bear with this one saint’s “joyful noise” or to “love” the rest of the saints by quieting his voice? What about the feelings of his family? What about planning a quality worship service we can invite people to? What about “speaking the truth in love”?

I would love to hear your wisdom.

(And so would the woman who was sitting in my office!)