The Joy of Straining Every Muscle
This week I have been getting ready for the Presbytery meeting on Tuesday, February 22 at the Ray Thomas Memorial Church in Marietta. This meeting will be my first since February 2004. That's right! It has been 10 months since a freak accident damaged my spinal cord but it has been one year since I participated in the governing body and spiritual home that is mine in Cherokee Presbytery. Over these past 10 months I have used these weekly e-mail messages to reflect on my recovery and also to offer you, my dear friends in Christ, my joys, failures, accomplishments, and funny moments.
I must admit that this process has been much harder that I could ever have imagined. From my first day back at work in early January, I have found almost everything to be very slow and difficult. Just sitting at my desk 12 hours per week is quite demanding. Very often, just the process of getting up out of my chair strains every muscle. Now that I am preparing for the Presbytery meeting, I am amazed at how much I have forgotten -- not just content, but even process.
I have agreed to preach for the opening worship service on Tuesday. Although I always love to preach, I am nervous about this opportunity. It is still hard for me to handle books and even to find the time for study and reflection because my daily maintenance and exercise program takes up so much time -- not to mention the difficulty of mustering the physical stamina necessary for proper delivery. If it sounds like I am complaining, maybe I am just a little bit. After all, I have had to let go of my former way of life to a large extent and to aim my energies toward a future that is not at all clear.
On the other hand, you need not worry about me one bit. My life is in God's hands -- and so is the life of every church in Cherokee Presbytery. Discerning God's will and doing God's work is extremely difficult and demanding -- it strains every muscle and sometimes makes us quite weary. You need to hear this from me again and again -- I will never give up because God has not given up on me! However, it appears that God is offering me the opportunity for something new, and at the moment I do not know what the new thing will be. So, what is left for me to do -- and for us to do? God calls us to train hard and strain every muscle for the sake of God's mission in Northwest Georgia and beyond.
This is getting a little heavy. I think it is time for a couple of great stories.
A couple of years ago Carole and I were in Connecticut on a vacation trip to see my family. The highlight of our visit was a Fourth of July cookout in honor of my aunt's 90th birthday. On the way to my cousin's house Carole and I stopped to take in a little of the Fourth of July parade. This was not your average Fourth of July parade -- this was the PT Barnum Festival Parade, a longtime Bridgeport, Connecticut tradition. Many years ago, I marched in this parade on several occasions.
Earlier in the day, the Brazilians had just won the World Cup soccer title. It was great to see Brazilian flags flying in the north end of Bridgeport. Likewise, it was fun to walk down the side street towards Main Street and to come upon a pickup truck backed into the intersection. As we looked into the bed of the pickup truck we could see that there was a large plastic liner and that it was filled up with water. A family sat in the water on this blazing hot Fourth of July and enjoyed the parade. What could be better!
What came next was truly marvelous. A snappy drum and bugle corps came by full of blare and brass. The group stopped in front of us, at which time I noticed there was a man at the front of the group carrying a pair of the largest cymbals I have ever seen. As he held the handles, the tops of the cymbals say that fit well into his armpits. They were absolutely huge, and they must have weighed a ton. As the music began to move towards a grand climax, this brave musical gladiator began to wind himself up for what promised to be a great finish. He pulled the cymbals out from under his armpits and leaned his body way back at a frightening angle. He appeared to strain every muscle as he arched his back and tried to rouse the energy get those cymbals into position.
At this point it seemed clear to me that one of two things would happen: either we would hear the most inspiring cymbal crash in history or we would see a man drop dead of a heart attack right there on Main Street! And so he continued his agonizing and frightening ritual until he got those cymbals out at close to a 90° angle on either side. Then, as if by magic the cymbals began to pick up speed until they crashed together and he held them up over his head in an instant. The crash was tremendous -- but that was only the beginning. He did it over and over again!
This man took an incredible risk -- and those of us who watched cheered and cheered! Without a doubt, he was our hero! Sometimes I wonder what ever happened to that fellow. He certainly was not afraid of stretching and straining every muscle -- and taking such great risks. His willingness to "give his all" was an inspiration to me. How could I possibly know that this story would come back to challenge me at a time when I must take great risks every day?
The next story comes from an e-mail message from Clara Olivas, the daughter of Raynard Arehart about a week after her father's death. Reverend Arehart died last week at the age of 98. He and his wife had been missionaries in Brazil for many years. Among my many duties this week will be to write a memorial for this wonderful servant to be read at the Presbytery meeting on Tuesday. The more I read about this man the more I wish I had served alongside -- especially in Brazil! Here is what she shared with me. It gives me great hope.
I just love that -- "all the practical details are that need tying up." Clara sent an additional quote that helps me even more: "Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance." (source unknown) The practical details in my life and yours are what it is all about. It is the stretching and straining of every muscle that helps us carry off those tasks with real "class." What I am trying to say is that you can get through life grumbling and complaining, or you can give yourself fully to God's greater purposes.
I am sure that it was something like this for the Apostle Paul in the New Testament. In the third chapter of Philippians, he has just finished recounting his impeccable credentials and his past achievements on behalf of the Hebrews. He put away all his past associations so that he might identify himself with the suffering Christ who conquered death through the resurrection from the dead. Now, he expresses both the pleasure of the goal and the pain of the journey in Philippians 3: 12-15.
Paul was giving everything he had -- stretching and straining every muscle -- for the sake of a new and challenging goal. Reaching out towards the risen Christ was difficult enough. Letting go of the old familiar Hebrew props was even harder.
I can assure you that God's future will probably not be the same as what you might imagine. I can assure you that it will be full of surprises, strange twists and unfair turns. I can assure you that it will demand all your resources, material and spiritual, to get you through it. I can assure you that it is a wonderful, difficult, frightening, life-giving experience. Go for it!
The peace of God be with you,
Jim
I must admit that this process has been much harder that I could ever have imagined. From my first day back at work in early January, I have found almost everything to be very slow and difficult. Just sitting at my desk 12 hours per week is quite demanding. Very often, just the process of getting up out of my chair strains every muscle. Now that I am preparing for the Presbytery meeting, I am amazed at how much I have forgotten -- not just content, but even process.
I have agreed to preach for the opening worship service on Tuesday. Although I always love to preach, I am nervous about this opportunity. It is still hard for me to handle books and even to find the time for study and reflection because my daily maintenance and exercise program takes up so much time -- not to mention the difficulty of mustering the physical stamina necessary for proper delivery. If it sounds like I am complaining, maybe I am just a little bit. After all, I have had to let go of my former way of life to a large extent and to aim my energies toward a future that is not at all clear.
On the other hand, you need not worry about me one bit. My life is in God's hands -- and so is the life of every church in Cherokee Presbytery. Discerning God's will and doing God's work is extremely difficult and demanding -- it strains every muscle and sometimes makes us quite weary. You need to hear this from me again and again -- I will never give up because God has not given up on me! However, it appears that God is offering me the opportunity for something new, and at the moment I do not know what the new thing will be. So, what is left for me to do -- and for us to do? God calls us to train hard and strain every muscle for the sake of God's mission in Northwest Georgia and beyond.
This is getting a little heavy. I think it is time for a couple of great stories.
A couple of years ago Carole and I were in Connecticut on a vacation trip to see my family. The highlight of our visit was a Fourth of July cookout in honor of my aunt's 90th birthday. On the way to my cousin's house Carole and I stopped to take in a little of the Fourth of July parade. This was not your average Fourth of July parade -- this was the PT Barnum Festival Parade, a longtime Bridgeport, Connecticut tradition. Many years ago, I marched in this parade on several occasions.
Earlier in the day, the Brazilians had just won the World Cup soccer title. It was great to see Brazilian flags flying in the north end of Bridgeport. Likewise, it was fun to walk down the side street towards Main Street and to come upon a pickup truck backed into the intersection. As we looked into the bed of the pickup truck we could see that there was a large plastic liner and that it was filled up with water. A family sat in the water on this blazing hot Fourth of July and enjoyed the parade. What could be better!
What came next was truly marvelous. A snappy drum and bugle corps came by full of blare and brass. The group stopped in front of us, at which time I noticed there was a man at the front of the group carrying a pair of the largest cymbals I have ever seen. As he held the handles, the tops of the cymbals say that fit well into his armpits. They were absolutely huge, and they must have weighed a ton. As the music began to move towards a grand climax, this brave musical gladiator began to wind himself up for what promised to be a great finish. He pulled the cymbals out from under his armpits and leaned his body way back at a frightening angle. He appeared to strain every muscle as he arched his back and tried to rouse the energy get those cymbals into position.
At this point it seemed clear to me that one of two things would happen: either we would hear the most inspiring cymbal crash in history or we would see a man drop dead of a heart attack right there on Main Street! And so he continued his agonizing and frightening ritual until he got those cymbals out at close to a 90° angle on either side. Then, as if by magic the cymbals began to pick up speed until they crashed together and he held them up over his head in an instant. The crash was tremendous -- but that was only the beginning. He did it over and over again!
This man took an incredible risk -- and those of us who watched cheered and cheered! Without a doubt, he was our hero! Sometimes I wonder what ever happened to that fellow. He certainly was not afraid of stretching and straining every muscle -- and taking such great risks. His willingness to "give his all" was an inspiration to me. How could I possibly know that this story would come back to challenge me at a time when I must take great risks every day?
The next story comes from an e-mail message from Clara Olivas, the daughter of Raynard Arehart about a week after her father's death. Reverend Arehart died last week at the age of 98. He and his wife had been missionaries in Brazil for many years. Among my many duties this week will be to write a memorial for this wonderful servant to be read at the Presbytery meeting on Tuesday. The more I read about this man the more I wish I had served alongside -- especially in Brazil! Here is what she shared with me. It gives me great hope.
I had adrenalin necessary for Dad's hospitalization and the family gathering, the memorial service. And it carried on through the weekend scheduled dance showcase. I danced the "Amazing Grace" waltz played on Davy Crockett's fiddle - and it seemed so timely. Was awarded 5 firsts and 1 second in competition and a trophy for performances - and was literally held up by the friendships in neighborhood, church and dance studio. Now I need to look and see what all the practical details are that need tying up.
I just love that -- "all the practical details are that need tying up." Clara sent an additional quote that helps me even more: "Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance." (source unknown) The practical details in my life and yours are what it is all about. It is the stretching and straining of every muscle that helps us carry off those tasks with real "class." What I am trying to say is that you can get through life grumbling and complaining, or you can give yourself fully to God's greater purposes.
I am sure that it was something like this for the Apostle Paul in the New Testament. In the third chapter of Philippians, he has just finished recounting his impeccable credentials and his past achievements on behalf of the Hebrews. He put away all his past associations so that he might identify himself with the suffering Christ who conquered death through the resurrection from the dead. Now, he expresses both the pleasure of the goal and the pain of the journey in Philippians 3: 12-15.
Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus had made me his own. Beloved, I do not consider that I have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.
Paul was giving everything he had -- stretching and straining every muscle -- for the sake of a new and challenging goal. Reaching out towards the risen Christ was difficult enough. Letting go of the old familiar Hebrew props was even harder.
I can assure you that God's future will probably not be the same as what you might imagine. I can assure you that it will be full of surprises, strange twists and unfair turns. I can assure you that it will demand all your resources, material and spiritual, to get you through it. I can assure you that it is a wonderful, difficult, frightening, life-giving experience. Go for it!
The peace of God be with you,
Jim
posted by Pierce | 12:00 PM
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