essays 213-221

1. #221 I've Been Watching You
2. #220 The Parable of the Fireworks
3. #219 They no Longer Smell Like Money
4. #218 Am I Bleeding Enough for a Band-AidÒ ?
5. #217 A Better Mousetrap?
6. #216 Don't Tread on Me
7. #215 Arm Wrestling Yourself
8. #214 Serendipity
9. #213 Scuff-marks

I took my three sons with me to the grocery store this week. While I was comparing packages of sirloin tip to find the leanest meat with the freshest date, I heard a lady ask my two oldest sons, "Are you two twins? I thought so." It turns out her daughter is due to have twins any time now. Then she told my boys, "I've been watching you. I noticed that you helped your mom, you didn't whine and complain, saying 'I want that!'" I thanked her, saying I was glad she caught the boys on a good day. (And I was glad she didn't keep them under surveillance in the cereal aisle-- especially the Pop TartsÒ shelf!)

How do you like the thought of being watched? Do you enjoy having your boss looking over your shoulder while you are working? I myself have a hard time typing these essays when my boys are reading while I type, quite often saying things like, "Mommy, you spelled another word wrong." (I'm a good speller, but my typos are abundant as mosquitoes in a swamp.)

I don't like the thought that I'm being watched as I live out my life, either. I remember hearing about a poll taken about why Christians do not witness more. The number one reason was a complete surprise to the pollsters. They expected reasons like: "I don't know my Bible well enough", "I don't want to be pushy", "I might be rejected." But the number one reason was: " I don't witness because of the way I live my life." In other words, these Christians were not living like Christians and they knew it. Their lives would not stand up to scrutiny.

Once people know you are a believer, you'd better believe they'll be watching you; watching for any little slip up. "That's not fair!", you think. They can't see me on my knees at night, repentant for the day's mistakes. No, they can't. And no, it isn't exactly fair, but non-believers use the excuse all the time, "I'm just as good as he is" (Although, to quote C.S. Lewis,

" no one who says that really believes it. He wouldn't say it if he did".) Don't give unbelievers an excuse to avoid Christianity, to stay away from church. How much better if your words and actions matched, if they saw something in you that they wanted for themselves.

I'm a Sunday School teacher right now; I'll never forget this e-mail I received from an older Christian brother: "Those children are watching you, they look up to you even when you are not in the classroom." Enough to make me gulp. But I can't do it on my own. I need that daily grace, that daily infilling of the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 5:18). I need to make this my morning prayer: "Lord, don't let me be a stumbling block to anyone today." I never know who might be watching.

Lori fiechter, 7-9-99

#220 The Parable of the Fireworks

I noticed something about human nature while we were watching fireworks the other night. No matter what kind of display is the first to be ignited, it is noticed and appreciated. After that, unless the fireworks are louder or larger or unusual in some way, the people watch more quietly (except for the babies, they will keep on crying.) After the first five minutes or so, the fireworks seem pretty much the same; there is "nothing new under the sun; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing." (Ecclesiastes 1:8,9) We are just waiting for the grand finale.

A visiting minister last Sunday read from Luke 21; as I am a prophecy buff, this is one of my favorite chapters. He talked about the convergence of prophetic signs that we are seeing in our day; how everything seems to be coming together. And yet, people are sleeping. Why? I think it is the parable of the fireworks. When an unusually strong sign comes (maybe something new happening in Israel, as with the Red Heifer, some disturbance on the Temple Mount, or mid-east war sabers rattling) people take notice. Yes, even unbelievers can be lulled out of sleep with a good war. But then, life goes on much as before, fireworks are still shooting off, but we don't notice them as much as before. If someone points out a sign to us, we just say, "Preachers have been talking for years about Jesus returning, but everything is continuing the same as always" (echoes of II Peter 3:4). We're getting used to the fireworks and we aren't watching much anymore as our Lord commanded; we're too busy working and worrying, too busy with everyday cares and concerns ( see Luke 21:33-36)

You wouldn't think that you'd find people sleeping at a Fourth of July fireworks show. But we are. Let's hope the grand finale doesn't catch us unawares.

"Take ye heed, watch and pray: for ye know not when the time is....Lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping. And what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch."
--Mark 13:33, 36, 37
Lori Fiechter
7-6-99

#219 They no Longer Smell Like Money

I was starting to get used to looking for dead chickens and gathering eggs; I didn't even mind it too much. That was before the phone call. My sister-in-law called me one day in between gatherings and happened to mention that egg prices were the lowest they'd been in years--and dropping. I'm not up on prices, but apparently 20 cents per dozen is decent; the price is 14 cents now and falling. All this work for no profit? I had a bad attitude when the boys and I went back to the chicken house that afternoon. The chickens no longer smelled like money, they just smelled. I wondered, "Why are we doing this?" I know that markets have their ups and downs, but I had hoped we would at least have a good start. It doesn't look that way now. The work is the same, whether prices are good or bad but rewards make the work sweeter.

Are we tempted to quit when the going gets tough? When we are first converted, we have such a good feeling: peace, joy, and love bursting out all over (well, it takes longer for some of us than others, but that feeling of "first love" is universal). And then, one day, it isn't "fun" anymore; blessings and benefits are not readily apparent. Novelty will always wear off; in the Christian walk as well as in the chicken house with all of its fancy new egg gathering equipment. That's when it is tempting to quit and find something new: a new job, a new marriage partner, a new church. But new never stays new for long. That is when perseverance kicks in. That is when commitment takes over and pushes temporary feelings aside.

Look at all of the verses in the Bible that speak of persevering, of enduring, of running the whole race. When the going gets tough, that is when we learn to lean more heavily on Jesus. That is when we hold on more tightly to our Anchor (Hebrews 6:18,19), when we cling more tenaciously to our Vine. Even when we can't see the immediate results of our trust and complete faith, the rewards will come. Maybe not in this life, though. (Hebrews 11:39)

What I say, I say to you all: hang in there; it will be worth it all!

lori fiechter
7-7-99

#218 Am I Bleeding Enough for a Band-AidÒ ?

Band-AidsÒ have become too cool. When I was a kid (30 years ago), plastic bandages came in only one color: plain, boring tan. (We didn't have blue M&M candies, either.) There were no active strips, or comfort strips, or sheer strips. And there were definitely no tattoo-style ones. Why did I buy them, those sheer strips with ants and lizards on them? I nearly started a family war, all because of those new CuradÒ strips.

I should have suspected something when I heard our sons discussing which one of them would be the first to get to wear them.

"You're not going to cut yourselves on purpose, are you?"

"Of course not, Mom."

The next day, one of my sons asked me to remove a splinter. There are lots of opportunities for getting wood splinters in the egg room from beat-up old skids and divider sheets of wood. I pulled the splinter out with a tweezers. My son noticed a little bit of blood and asked, "Am I bleeding enough for a band-aid?" He asked so politely, so innocently, that I didn't consider the consequences of granting his request. "Yes," I replied. A band-aid would protect that spot on your finger.

I heard the first skirmishes of war within minutes. "How come he got a band-aid for a splinter? You never gave me one for that." And the clincher--a deadly phrase never before uttered in our household: "It's because you like him better than me." Whew! All that over a band-aid. I won't tell you how I resolved the problem; I certainly did not display the wisdom of Solomon. (OK, I caved and then had to apologize to my first son.)

Now, my sons didn't hurt themselves on purpose so that they could have one of those bandages, but the concept made me think of this verse:

"What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound?
God forbid. How shall we, that are dead to sin, live any longer therein?" --Romans 6:1,2

Using a band-aid is a poor analogy of God's grace, I know. But we need to guard against not taking sin seriously just because we have grace freely available to forgive it. A band-aid protects the cut, but it doesn't completely do away with the scar. So it is with grace; there are still consequences to sinning. Don't be careless. And be sure to remove those sin splinters promptly, before they infect the whole body.

A second application just came to me: we don't need to be nearly bleeding to death before we finally apply God's grace to be saved. We've all sinned and come short of the glory of God and we certainly can't heal ourselves of sin sickness. If you think you are one of the righteous that needs no repentance, remember, Jesus came to call sinners. (Mark 2:17) If you don't think you are "bad enough" to need a Savior, you are in the greatest danger of all.

Lori Fiechter
7-9-99

#217 A Better Mousetrap?

Stan and I had to replant some sweet corn the other day. I went to get the bags of seed corn out of the shed. I noticed some corn had spilled into the bottom of the plastic sack, and then, I saw the hole chewed in the bottom corner of each bag. Mice. I looked more carefully at the corn left in the bags. The heart of the kernels had been eaten out in two out of the three varieties, leaving only the empty shells. And this was treated corn seed. I could understand had it been the dead of winter, when the poor rodents were starving, but surely those mice could find tastier fare than chemically-laced corn seed. (As I recall from the tale of the Town Mouse and the Country Mouse, the country cousin found quite a lot to eat without stealing from people's sheds.)

I set a trap. I set it up on that 48" shelf, right next to the desecrated corn. This was no ordinary cheap mousetrap, but a better mousetrap; one that had never failed me in our bedroom closet or kitchen. It failed. The peanut butter was licked clean off, but no mouse. Stan told me, "These field mice are smarter than your common house mice." So I set two of the traps, facing each other. And I waited. I went out the next morning to check the traps; one trap was lying on the floor--licked clean again--and the other trap was nowhere to be seen. Nowhere. Perhaps I was not dealing with clever little field mice after all, but large, trap-savvy rats. I can picture a testosterone-loaded rat, toting around my mouse trap like a war trophy, bragging to all his disease-laden friends. We could try rat poison, but our cats sometimes go in that shed. The only solution is to move the garden seed to the house. (Those rats won't eat the boys' bike tires, will they?)

Do you have any uncaptured mice in your home? Any uncaptured thoughts in your mind?

(II Corinthians 10:5) Do you harbor doubts: doubts that God will keep His promises; doubts about His faithfulness; doubts that He really cares about what happens to you; doubts that He is near, even when you can't feel His presence? Or maybe you have doubts about the Christian walk itself; you wonder if it is really worth it. You wonder if your service and sacrifice have been noticed by God.

Capture these doubts! Don't let doubts (mouse or rat-sized ones) gnaw away at your faith, hope, or peace. Don't let the little foxes spoil your grapes (Song of Solomon 2:15) Keep those seeds of faith safe; don't let them lie around, open and unprotected. Give them to God; trust Him to keep you. He is able (Jude 24). And Hee is known for keeping His promises.

July 2, 1999
lori fiechter

#216 Don't Tread on Me

It has been a year since we started this joint chicken house venture (with Stan's brother) and three weeks since the chickens started coming--and laying eggs. I'm starting to get used to walking the catwalks; no vertigo anymore. I've even getting used to pulling dead chickens out of their cages and dumping them into the pit. That is, as long as they've not been dead too long, especially during these hot and humid Indiana summers. The chicken cages are crowded--six birds per cage. When a bird gets its wing stuck under the cage, it needs to be freed before the other birds trample it to death. I hate the process of freeing chickens; I really don't know the proper method. I try to be gentle but it is not easy when the other five birds in the cage are flapping about wildly. It is a dog-eat-dog world in the chicken house. Those chickens have never heard of the Golden Rule.

What is your reaction toward a fellow believer when he or she stumbles in faith? Are you quick to lend a helping hand, a listening ear? Or do you trample this brother or sister underfoot, spreading gossip and rumors, cluck-clucking with your tongue, saying, "I'm not surprised at all, I saw it coming." Is your first reaction one of compassion or condemnation? If there is an injury, do you try to help along the healing process--even if it means more pain at first (like when I have to pull a bent wing free)? Or do you attack and make the injured person even weaker. Or maybe you just stand by and let others attack without coming to your brother's defense. The Bible commands us to support the weak and comfort the feeble minded (I Thess. 5:14) . Our churches are not to resemble hen houses. (no more cackling?)

June 26, 1999 by Lori Fiechter

#215 Arm Wrestling Yourself

There is certainly a proper place for healthy competition. Competition in the marketplace is what can give us better products (new and improved all the time, if you believe the advertisements) at a decent price. And a strong rivalry in athletics can bring out the best in both competitors. But we don't want competition in the church, the body of Christ. Competition in church is like arm wrestling yourself, right arm against left. Or like having your left leg challenge the right to a foot race. Pretty silly.

In the church, think co-operation, think "one body". A body is designed to work together for the common good, not to have the separate parts compete against one another. That is why we don't give out prizes for best sermon (no applause-o-meters in church, please!). That is why we don't choose Sunday School teacher-of-the-year or usher-of-the-month. We don't have charts to honor those who donated the most time or money to the church (along with the respective amounts). We don't give out awards for "most humble demeanor or attire" (that could make them proud, anyway, right? Talk about defeating the purpose!) Rewards are doled out by our Lord Himself, at His judgment seat; (see II Corinthians 5:10) where there are might be some surprises, both pleasant and unpleasant.

We are one body, in one hope of our calling, serving one Lord. When one rejoices, we all rejoice. When one suffers, we all mourn. We're all in this together. That doesn't mean we are all the same--no, not at all. But our differences: our different gifts, opportunities, and personalities enhance the whole. That is the ideal. That is a little bit of heaven on earth.

lori fiechter, 6-26-99

#214 Serendipity

Serendipity: a happy accident or pleasant surprise. More specifically, it is finding something better than the thing you were looking for. Has that ever happened to you? I wonder if serendipity often graces the lives of those who have "a place for everything and everything in its place"? Probably not. Those kind of people don't need to spend as much time hunting down things like car keys, tape measurers, lost shoes, and, in my case, an elusive white purse.

I have two church purses (my much loved everyday purse--the black one with the ragged zipper; the one with the cracked strap that I mended with black electrical tape--is an essay in itself) one white (summer) and one black(winter)--pretty basic. I used to have a gray one but the girls in my Sunday School class made fun of it, called it an "old-lady purse". I thought I had a place for my off-season purse: the bottom drawer in my desk. It wasn't there. I looked on the closet shelf; not there either. I spent part of the past few Sunday mornings since Memorial Day searching for that crazy purse. I finally decided I would need to buy a new one. That must have scared my old purse out of hiding. Last night, while I was looking through my basket of fabric scraps, I found my purse, buried under a mountain of brightly colored nylon supplex. I have no idea how my purse ended up there. I don't need to know. I was just glad to have it back again.

I often wondered about the inalienable right to the pursuit of happiness. It seems that happiness can be as elusive as my disappearing white purse, especially when you are actively pursuing it. And then, sometimes, when you are so busy serving others, so intent on serving God, happiness sneaks right up on you. But remember, as C.S. Lewis wrote,

"God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing." And also,

"If you think of this world as a place intended simply for our happiness, you find it quite intolerable: think of it as a place of training and correction and it's not so bad."

"For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you...The servant is not greater than his lord; neither he that is sent greater than he that sent him. If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them."
--John 13:15-17

"Be ye also patient; stablish your hearts: for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh...behold, we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy."

--James 5:8, 11

lori fiechter, 6-25-99

#213 Scuff-marks

I haven't had white church shoes to wear for almost two summers; my old pointy ones just hurt my feet too much. But a couple of weeks ago, I found a comfortable pair at a good price. Now that the summer season has begun, I donned my shiny off-white shoes (too bad I still can't find my white purse; where did I put that thing?) and headed for church. For brand-new shoes, they didn't feel too bad by the end of the day. I was heading for the van when I noticed my heel was sticking to the sidewalk. Someone had deposited their chewing gum right outside the back door. In 90 degree weather, the gum was amazingly pliant and gooey. It was when I lifted my shoe to look at the goo that I noticed the ugly black scuff marks. Four of them on the inside right shoe, one short one on the left. I was upset but thought, how hard can it be to take off scuff marks? Plenty hard. I tried scouring powder, mink oil and baby oil, WD-40 solvent, rubbing alcohol (that worked the best but removed the sheen as well) and waterless hand cleaner. I even tried my peach facial scrub (didn't help the scuff marks, but my shoes smell nice). After all my efforts, I examined my shoes. The heavy black scuff marks turned to skinny reddish-brown marks but there are still marks. Who knows how many more I'll add next Sunday? I've given up for now. Can you buy off-white shoe polish? Maybe I should have pre-treated them--would that have prevented the marks?

This brought two thoughts to me. One, no matter how hard we try, we can't remove sin spots and stains from our lives. The best we can do is try to cover them up. Under the law, sin was covered by the blood of bulls and goats, but it was impossible for that blood to ever take away sins. (Hebrews 10:4) But John the Baptist proclaimed upon seeing Jesus for the first time, "Behold, the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world" (John 1:29) Only Jesus' blood is sufficient to remove those sin stains. Our good works are just not good enough.

Second, I thought about white. Why does the Bible say "Let thy garments be always white" (Eccles. 9:8) Why are the saints in Revelation clothed in white linen? Why white? Why won't we be dressed in black, or red? It is true that white is a sign of purity. Why is that? Well, if I had scuffed my black shoes, I never would have even noticed. But white shows the slightest amount of dirt, the stains, the scuff marks. If something is bright white, it looks clean.

There are new advances in fabrics all the time; Dupont has come up with Teflon-coated fibers that allows red wine to roll right off that white blouse; mustard can be wiped off with a napkin. Ah, for a Teflon-coated soul, where sin cannot stick and stain. Maybe I was more thoroughly soaked in the oil of the Holy Spirit, sin could not penetrate so easily. But now, I still need the daily washing of the word, I require daily regeneration. (Ephesians 5:26,27)

Lord, make me white again!

6-7-99