conflicts and fears

“…Conflicts without, fears within.” -2 Cor. 7:5 NASV

How do you know if you are alive? Besides the obvious, Paul gives a succinct and honest clue as he opened his heart wide to the Corinthians in a very transparent moment. He summed up his present existence with four words, “Conflicts without, fears within.” That little phrase captures so much of human reality. Sounds like life to me. Hopefully your conflicts don’t assume the proportions that Paul experienced as he was chased around the Mediterranean by stone throwing mobs and other unhappy customers. Yet, who among us does not feel the daily tension of conflicting priorities, the demands of our many jobs, and the feedback of differing opinions? And fears? My anxiety closet is never empty. There lurks a thousand assorted beasts of every sort that love to go bump in the night and rattle their chains to let me know they are still there.

If there is some bliss in early childhood, it is the minimal presence of either of these two commodities to any intense degree. There are many childhood tears, but they fade fast and memories heal with amazing speed. Yet, all so soon, children, too, will feel the pinch of daily tensions as they begin to experience life that doesn’t always agree with their preconceptions and self-centered wishes. And fears start to grow like June weeds in the fertile plots of young imaginations.

School presents a liberal dose of both conflicts and fears. Students are roused from their summer doldrums and challenged to do battle with multiplication and algebraic functions, gerunds and participial phrases, Napoleon and the dissolution of European kingdoms, phylums and taxonomic ranks, and all that good stuff. Some take the conflict in stride. Others get snowed under. For all of them, it is work, nevertheless. And then there is that class/peer thing. Others are watching, listening, and always eager to pounce on any excuse for a good laugh. Laughter is so delicious, so wonderful, except when it comes at our expense. Life would be so much simpler if it were not for those “others” who include or exclude, applaud or jeer, appreciate or diminish, love or ignore. Adding to any child’s list of fears are those overheard conversations that echo up hallways in the most sacrosanct refuge for a child, the home. Children can sense when adults are worried, have their moods, or are wrapped up in fears of their own which spill out at times like a glass of overturned milk.

I guess what I am trying to say is that kids are human, too, experiencing conflicts and fears in full measure. Paul rejoices that God comforted him by the coming of Titus who was himself encouraged by the Corinthians. We, as parents, are Titus to our children bringing good news with a personal touch that gladdens the heart. If the Apostle Paul needed a piece of good news and a friendly face in order to bear his trials, how much more our children need this as well. And as the Corinthians encouraged Titus, so we grandparents need to encourage our grown children laboring through the child rearing years. Letters are great and Paul used them to maximum advantage, but the personal presence of Titus did something for Paul that nothing else could match.

In looking back, I ask myself now, “Did I hug my kids enough, or extend a gentle touch (that powerful but under-rated human connection that says so much yet is totally wordless)? Did I pull apart from my own worries and preoccupations enough and invite myself into the quiet rooms of their inner worlds; and once there, offer a listening ear interspersed with words of truth and encouragement?” Paul did not shrink from using emotive words like “beloved” in addressing the Corinthians. Did I tell my kids that they were my beloved and precious ones? Paul corrected his children but then rejoiced when they corrected their course. “Great is my boasting on your behalf” and words to that effect. Did I boast enough of their good choices and let them know it? I wish I could remember more clearly doing so. May you remember unmistakably and have no doubts or regrets.

margins

"Go ahead of me, and keep some space between the herds." -NIV Genesis 32:16

I have just come through what was, I believe, the most crammed full, jam packed, strenuous, stress filled week of my year. I am not complaining, really. I just hope that was it and that it is over. And I imagine it was near-so for many of you as well. Getting summer wrapped up and gearing up for another school year is always stressful for families. Our staff has had a double portion getting ready for your families as well as preparing their own for the first day of school. We are constantly trying to streamline our prep week to take as much stress out of it as possible, but in spite of our best efforts, it is what it is: a runway strewn with sharp objects, substantial litter, some stray goats, a few serious potholes, and some occasional landmines. But we got off the ground somehow in spite of them.

Now I am in the business of searching about for some routine in my life whereby I can find and set a pace that I can afford to maintain over the long haul. Another week like the last one would push me dangerously close to taking up coffee drinking or other some-such risky behavior. And it was not all the school’s fault. I was contracting the dropping of trees, finishing a leftover kitchen rehab job, visiting with family passing through, orchestrating a men’s breakfast, overseeing a new roof installation on our back porch, attending a sing-fest, teaching Sunday school, and entertaining church dinner guests on Sunday. I did skip the Deacon’s meeting that week but only because my children from Texas were in for less than 24 hours.

That I survived the week was admirable. That I would consent to such a crazy schedule, questionable. That I would allow this to continue, sheer madness. The word that has come into my vocabulary this week is margin. I am realizing the value and need to build some margins into my life. Margins give hope to any printed page. A page printed from edge to edge is perceived as tedious, tiresome, overly busy, and fills one with dread at the thought. So, we too, need to frame our lives with some margins of peace so that we will not become drained of all life and substance. Americans, by nature, live very full lives. We love to run, build, play, work, and live life filled to the brim. But if we leave no margin for error, no margin of time to refresh and rebuild, we run the risk of a serious crash landing.

I took some serious time off this summer in a deliberate attempt to get ready for the madness that began last week. It helped get me through, I am sure. We know full well the wisdom of saving money for a rainy day so when lean times come, there is something to fall back on. In the area of relationships, Scripture tells us that mercy shown to others creates a well of reserve for us when we need it. Forgive and you will be forgiven. From the beginning of time, God made provision for man to rest one day out of seven. He knew we needed that. But even that is not always restful for us Christians who love to fill that day with church busyness.

I couldn’t help but notice that Jacob sent his flocks ahead in coming to meet Esau for the first time in years and carefully spaced them out to give Esau time to reflect upon his brother’s desire for reconciliation. Our minds need time to process things, to turn them over in our hearts. Quiet reflection is the greatest scarcity of our age.

Margins. Sitting quietly on a front porch is not necessarily wasting time especially if it allows us to be fully ready to respond in full measure when hard duty calls at an unexpected moment. Spending a quiet evening home is not always a wasteful thing if it enables us to face the next day refreshed and ready for battle. May the Shepherd of your soul lead you beside some quiet waters, and may you keep some space between your herds.