Looking Ahead
Stories
Contents
What's Up This Week
"Looking Ahead" by Argile Smith
"Growing Pains" by C. David McKirachan
"Listening to the Dawn" by C. David McKirachan
What's Up This Week
It has been said that life is change. If we do not change, we are no living. However, we can be resistant when it comes to change on any level, be it physical, emotional, or spiritual. This notion of change and our reaction to it is explored in this week's StoryShare. In "Looking Ahead," Argile Smith delves into not only the struggles that come with change, but also the motivations that prompt us to it. C. David McKirachan shows us in "Growing Pains" that while it can be easy to recognize the need for change in others, it can be a different story when it comes to facing the needs for change in ourselves. McKirachan also shows us that even changes in our perspective of life can bring extraordinary results in "Listening to the Dawn."
(This installment was originally published in 2007.)
* * * * * * * * *
Looking Ahead
Argile Smith
2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18
Jerry could hardly believe that he had been accepted! But, that's exactly what the dean of the university said in her letter to Jerry. Giddy with excitement, he held the letter in his hand and called Dawn, his wife of only a few months. She affirmed Jerry's dream of enrolling in graduate school. Now that he had been accepted, she favored the idea of uprooting themselves from North Carolina and moving to Los Angeles.
One other detail about the letter, however, caught Jerry and Dawn off guard. According to the dean, Jerry would be expected to enroll immediately for the next semester, which meant that he needed to relocate quickly. Jerry didn't really think that he would be accepted, so he hadn't done anything about getting ready to move.
Dawn insisted that he should go ahead to Los Angeles. She would stay in North Carolina and join him as soon as she could serve out her resignation notice at work, pack and load their belongings, and make the trek across the country. Reluctantly Jerry agreed and drove their "good" car to the place where his academic dream would come true, expecting Dawn to arrive shortly in a rented truck loaded with boxes and furniture.
For Jerry, the trip west went well. He made his way to the apartment complex where he and Dawn would make their new home without a problem. Getting from the new apartment to the university where he would study turned out to be easy, too.
For Dawn, things didn't go so well. She had to go through the ordeal of packing up everything herself, and she had to handle her family's discomfort over her decision to drive across country alone. Of course, she also had to contend with her own fears about moving to a strange, new part of the world she had never visited before now.
Worst of all, she missed Jerry. Each day that passed since he left brought a new dimension to the pain she bore because she couldn't see him. As she came home from work every afternoon, her dread of nightfall became more difficult to bear. She and Jerry had always looked forward to that time of the day. At home after work, they had come to view nightfall as their time to be together, to revisit their dream for their future, to experiment with the new adventure of preparing dinner, and just to enjoy each other's company. That's why Dawn felt so sad when the sun set.
Of course, she and Jerry talked to each other all the time. Thanks to cell phones and the internet, they stayed in almost constant contact. They sent pictures to each other and corresponded on the moving details at every opportunity. Still, Dawn couldn't be with Jerry in person.
Finally, the day arrived for Dawn to hop in the truck and drive away from the home she had known for most of her life. Her parents noticed that she didn't seem to be sorrowful, but hopeful. When they asked her questions, she answered in ways that assured them of her eagerness to get on the road. When they brought up the new scenery, new opportunities, and new challenges of her new home, they asked her about what she looked forward to most of all once she reached her destination. Without batting an eye, she answered, "Seeing Jerry."
As Paul wrapped up his life, he told Timothy to look ahead. Living can be difficult, but Christians can look forward to seeing Jesus one day.
Argile Smith is vice president for advancement at William Carey University in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. He has been the pastor of several congregations in Louisiana and Mississippi, and has also served as a preaching professor, chairman of the Division of Pastoral Ministries, and director of the communications center at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary. While at NOTBS, Smith regularly hosted the Gateway to Truth program on the FamilyNet television network.
Growing Pains
C. David McKirachan
Luke 18:9-14
In my ministry, I've tried hard to relate to just about everybody. Looking back over the successes and failures, the angers and the joys, the demographic that seems to be the most common in my column of difficulty has been middle aged male not-quite-successful entrepreneurs. I don't automatically fight with all in that category, but the ones that I do have conflicts with tend to hail from this area of existence.
I've taken a few runs at coming up with some understanding on which to build some learning and creative growth about this. The best I've been able to come up with is their insistence on competition and unwillingness to be accessible to grace. It's hard to run your own show and have the weight of success and failure on your back every day. There's no net. So, it's hard not to buy the rap of independence and individualism and competition and John Wayne tough guy. On one occasion, one of them told me at some volume that he was tired of hearing about forgiveness. What were we trying to do, create a bunch of wimps who couldn't take it? I used to be intimidated by their unswerving disapproval of easy-going, inclusive, and let's-learn-from-it-rather-than-blame attitude. I got over that by moving in on them and watching them squirm when I asked them to pray.
Their spines and unhealed wounds were clear to me. My primary concern was always to maneuver them and insulate them. What hit me not so long ago was that I was playing the Pharisee. "Thank God I'm not like these poor wretches." Whatever their attitude or reticence, it was not my place to judge or to condescend. My developed skill at damage control was in effect fencing them away from the very grace they denied. Just because I didn't think they'd be receptive, didn't mean I should look down on them. Discernment should not exclude people from the grace we all need.
This kingdom of God business is confusing. Every time I get confident, I find myself confronting another opportunity for growth. That was another thing one of them told me, "I'm tired of that four letter word." "What word is that?" I asked truly mystified. "GROW." Sometimes, me, too.
Listening to the Dawn
C. David McKirachan
Psalm 65
We pretend to be such sophisticated rational beings. We scoff at superstitions, those idiotic and fallacious connections between actions and consequences that have no basis in fact. When I teach logic, I lift up these primitive attitudes as post hoc fallacies. Once in a while, an adolescent voice challenges me with the observation, "But sometimes when you see a black cat, bad things do happen." From my height of learning and vested knowledge, using the stentorian tones of scorn and paternalistic dismissal, I beat back the barbarian challenge to the domination of reason, "Coincidence, pure coincidence..."
But once in a while, when I'm walking my dog at night and the moon is tossed upon cloudy seas, the hoot of an owl sends chills up my spine, denying my supposed distance from my brethren of the cave and the savannah. Our reasonable defenses are so fragile.
Perhaps they are mixed blessings at best. For what modern person, steeped in reason and evidential proof, could hear "the dawn and sunset shout for joy"? It's only a metaphor after all. In our insistence on objectivity and proof, are we not turning our backs on the abundance of life? Life that intrudes and overwhelms our agendas and our reason in ways that open us to experience and possibility more rich than any explanation or experiment could ever allow?
After I put a fence around my backyard and dug a pond in it and built a waterfall to burble, I dug two holes and stood there two stones, one facing north and south, the other facing east and west. The source of the stones is another story. Most don't notice them. A few have asked whether I buried something there. These are not tombstones, but they are reminders. They speak in ancient whispers of what surrounds them and remind me to listen and to look. For God speaks each day. God sings each day. God shouts each day. And that, my friend, is no metaphor.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. He is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
**************
StoryShare, October 28, 2007, issue.
Copyright 2007 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
"Looking Ahead" by Argile Smith
"Growing Pains" by C. David McKirachan
"Listening to the Dawn" by C. David McKirachan
What's Up This Week
It has been said that life is change. If we do not change, we are no living. However, we can be resistant when it comes to change on any level, be it physical, emotional, or spiritual. This notion of change and our reaction to it is explored in this week's StoryShare. In "Looking Ahead," Argile Smith delves into not only the struggles that come with change, but also the motivations that prompt us to it. C. David McKirachan shows us in "Growing Pains" that while it can be easy to recognize the need for change in others, it can be a different story when it comes to facing the needs for change in ourselves. McKirachan also shows us that even changes in our perspective of life can bring extraordinary results in "Listening to the Dawn."
(This installment was originally published in 2007.)
* * * * * * * * *
Looking Ahead
Argile Smith
2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18
Jerry could hardly believe that he had been accepted! But, that's exactly what the dean of the university said in her letter to Jerry. Giddy with excitement, he held the letter in his hand and called Dawn, his wife of only a few months. She affirmed Jerry's dream of enrolling in graduate school. Now that he had been accepted, she favored the idea of uprooting themselves from North Carolina and moving to Los Angeles.
One other detail about the letter, however, caught Jerry and Dawn off guard. According to the dean, Jerry would be expected to enroll immediately for the next semester, which meant that he needed to relocate quickly. Jerry didn't really think that he would be accepted, so he hadn't done anything about getting ready to move.
Dawn insisted that he should go ahead to Los Angeles. She would stay in North Carolina and join him as soon as she could serve out her resignation notice at work, pack and load their belongings, and make the trek across the country. Reluctantly Jerry agreed and drove their "good" car to the place where his academic dream would come true, expecting Dawn to arrive shortly in a rented truck loaded with boxes and furniture.
For Jerry, the trip west went well. He made his way to the apartment complex where he and Dawn would make their new home without a problem. Getting from the new apartment to the university where he would study turned out to be easy, too.
For Dawn, things didn't go so well. She had to go through the ordeal of packing up everything herself, and she had to handle her family's discomfort over her decision to drive across country alone. Of course, she also had to contend with her own fears about moving to a strange, new part of the world she had never visited before now.
Worst of all, she missed Jerry. Each day that passed since he left brought a new dimension to the pain she bore because she couldn't see him. As she came home from work every afternoon, her dread of nightfall became more difficult to bear. She and Jerry had always looked forward to that time of the day. At home after work, they had come to view nightfall as their time to be together, to revisit their dream for their future, to experiment with the new adventure of preparing dinner, and just to enjoy each other's company. That's why Dawn felt so sad when the sun set.
Of course, she and Jerry talked to each other all the time. Thanks to cell phones and the internet, they stayed in almost constant contact. They sent pictures to each other and corresponded on the moving details at every opportunity. Still, Dawn couldn't be with Jerry in person.
Finally, the day arrived for Dawn to hop in the truck and drive away from the home she had known for most of her life. Her parents noticed that she didn't seem to be sorrowful, but hopeful. When they asked her questions, she answered in ways that assured them of her eagerness to get on the road. When they brought up the new scenery, new opportunities, and new challenges of her new home, they asked her about what she looked forward to most of all once she reached her destination. Without batting an eye, she answered, "Seeing Jerry."
As Paul wrapped up his life, he told Timothy to look ahead. Living can be difficult, but Christians can look forward to seeing Jesus one day.
Argile Smith is vice president for advancement at William Carey University in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. He has been the pastor of several congregations in Louisiana and Mississippi, and has also served as a preaching professor, chairman of the Division of Pastoral Ministries, and director of the communications center at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary. While at NOTBS, Smith regularly hosted the Gateway to Truth program on the FamilyNet television network.
Growing Pains
C. David McKirachan
Luke 18:9-14
In my ministry, I've tried hard to relate to just about everybody. Looking back over the successes and failures, the angers and the joys, the demographic that seems to be the most common in my column of difficulty has been middle aged male not-quite-successful entrepreneurs. I don't automatically fight with all in that category, but the ones that I do have conflicts with tend to hail from this area of existence.
I've taken a few runs at coming up with some understanding on which to build some learning and creative growth about this. The best I've been able to come up with is their insistence on competition and unwillingness to be accessible to grace. It's hard to run your own show and have the weight of success and failure on your back every day. There's no net. So, it's hard not to buy the rap of independence and individualism and competition and John Wayne tough guy. On one occasion, one of them told me at some volume that he was tired of hearing about forgiveness. What were we trying to do, create a bunch of wimps who couldn't take it? I used to be intimidated by their unswerving disapproval of easy-going, inclusive, and let's-learn-from-it-rather-than-blame attitude. I got over that by moving in on them and watching them squirm when I asked them to pray.
Their spines and unhealed wounds were clear to me. My primary concern was always to maneuver them and insulate them. What hit me not so long ago was that I was playing the Pharisee. "Thank God I'm not like these poor wretches." Whatever their attitude or reticence, it was not my place to judge or to condescend. My developed skill at damage control was in effect fencing them away from the very grace they denied. Just because I didn't think they'd be receptive, didn't mean I should look down on them. Discernment should not exclude people from the grace we all need.
This kingdom of God business is confusing. Every time I get confident, I find myself confronting another opportunity for growth. That was another thing one of them told me, "I'm tired of that four letter word." "What word is that?" I asked truly mystified. "GROW." Sometimes, me, too.
Listening to the Dawn
C. David McKirachan
Psalm 65
We pretend to be such sophisticated rational beings. We scoff at superstitions, those idiotic and fallacious connections between actions and consequences that have no basis in fact. When I teach logic, I lift up these primitive attitudes as post hoc fallacies. Once in a while, an adolescent voice challenges me with the observation, "But sometimes when you see a black cat, bad things do happen." From my height of learning and vested knowledge, using the stentorian tones of scorn and paternalistic dismissal, I beat back the barbarian challenge to the domination of reason, "Coincidence, pure coincidence..."
But once in a while, when I'm walking my dog at night and the moon is tossed upon cloudy seas, the hoot of an owl sends chills up my spine, denying my supposed distance from my brethren of the cave and the savannah. Our reasonable defenses are so fragile.
Perhaps they are mixed blessings at best. For what modern person, steeped in reason and evidential proof, could hear "the dawn and sunset shout for joy"? It's only a metaphor after all. In our insistence on objectivity and proof, are we not turning our backs on the abundance of life? Life that intrudes and overwhelms our agendas and our reason in ways that open us to experience and possibility more rich than any explanation or experiment could ever allow?
After I put a fence around my backyard and dug a pond in it and built a waterfall to burble, I dug two holes and stood there two stones, one facing north and south, the other facing east and west. The source of the stones is another story. Most don't notice them. A few have asked whether I buried something there. These are not tombstones, but they are reminders. They speak in ancient whispers of what surrounds them and remind me to listen and to look. For God speaks each day. God sings each day. God shouts each day. And that, my friend, is no metaphor.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. He is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
**************
StoryShare, October 28, 2007, issue.
Copyright 2007 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
