MERCY MATTERS      in granting grace to others we find the forgiveness our souls are seeking.

sincerely,     Grace Day

take care not to turn your molehills into mountains, they are so much harder to move when they get that big.  Your life already comes complete with more than enough mountains built in.  So it just seems silly to spend your time making more mountains.

instead, spend your time guarding and growing your mustard seed of faith, so that you can move your already existing mountains.  and practice mercy.  mercy matters.  mercy is the miracle that makes way for our mountains to move.

“I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”  (Mark 9:24)

“. . . I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move.  Nothing will be impossible for you.”  (Matthew 17:20)

sincerely,      Grace Day

 

Today I just want to be Mary and sit at Jesus’ feet.  That’s all.  Nothing more.  Oh, Mary had her critics, starting with her own sister, Martha.  But Jesus said it was okay with Him for Mary to sit at His feet. So maybe it’s okay if I do, too.  Just for a little while.  Just for today.

Maybe tomorrow I will slay Goliath or face-off with Pharaoh.  But not today.  Today I just want to sit at Jesus’ feet.  Maybe tomorrow I will be brave like Rahab or faithful like Ruth or forgiving like Joseph or hardworking and rebuild a wall like Nehemiah.  But not today.  Today, I just want to sit at Jesus’ feet.

Maybe tomorrow I will encourage like Barnabas or preach like Paul or share  my lunch with five thousand hungry strangers.  But not today.  Today, I just want to sit at Jesus’ feet.

Maybe tomorrow I will leave my country like Abraham or my job like Peter to follow where Jesus leads me.  But not today.  Today, I just want to sit at Jesus’ feet.

Tomorrow I will visit the prisoner, care for the sick, clothe the naked and give a cup of water to the thirsty, all in Jesus’ name.  Tomorrow I will cry out in this wilderness like John the Baptist that Jesus has come to seek and to save the lost. Tomorrow I will throw off the bushel and let God’s light shine all around.  But not today.  Today, I just want to sit at Jesus’ feet.

Today at Jesus’ feet, I have the green pastures and the still waters of Psalm 23. Today I can listen and learn, rest and let my Shepard renew a right spirit within me.  If I don’t sit at Jesus’ feet, I will be a clanging cymbal.

The valley will be deep and dark, they always are.  But for today I will sit at Jesus’ feet like Mary did. And like He did with Mary,  Jesus lets me stay.  Jesus does not turn me away.

I have many valleys yet to travel in this world and many mountains must be moved.  But not today.  Today, I just want to sit at Jesus’ feet.

sincerely,       Grace Day

“Be still, and know that I am God;”   (Psalm 46:10)

“In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength,”  (Isaiah 30:15)

 

 

I feel like the most appropriate sign for my life right now would read,   “currently experiencing technical difficulties”      yes,  that says it all!

sincerely,       Grace Day

It’s true.  Today I saw a whole flock of seagulls in the Target parking lot as I pulled away.  Now I’m used to seeing large numbers of geese there and everywhere else in my city.  We are overrun with geese.  Have been for some time.  They are large, loud and messy and they are everywhere I go.  But seagulls?  We are a land-locked, mid-western state.  We do not have seagulls here.  At least not until today.  I had to look again to be sure I was seeing correctly.

Then it hit me.  Could they be displaced migrants from hurricane Harvey?  This is awfully far, but still . . .   fact is stranger than fiction.  My heart went out to the little guys.  There is no salt water around here.  There are no beaches, no ocean breezes.  They must be experiencing culture shock.  Come to think of it, they did look kind of dazed, just standing around on the newly black-topped parking lot in no particular formation, taking up lots of perfectly good parking spaces.  The black top must feel so unfamiliar under their feet.  I’m sure they much prefer the feel of the sand that they are accustomed to.

These feathered fugitives are aliens here. Perhaps the first of more to come.  My heart goes out to them.  They looked so bewildered, so uncomfortable in these surroundings which are strange to them. They are far from home, far from all that is familiar to them.

God gave a command to the Israelites regarding aliens.  He said, ” And you are to love those who are aliens, for you yourselves were aliens in Egypt.”  (Deut. 10:19) The Israelites knew what it felt like to live in a place that was not their true home. They longed to leave and eventually God brought them dramatically through the Red Sea, through forty years in the desert into their promised homeland.

I know something of what those seagulls must be feeling right now.  It’s hard to get comfortable in a place that is not your home.  It’s hard to be at peace when you know there is something more that awaits you, that you have not yet arrived at your final destination.  You are restless because you are not yet home   Philippians 3:20 reminds me why it is that I feel this way.  “But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables Him to bring everything under His control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like His glorious body.”

Like the seagulls in the paved parking lot, who were meant for sandy beaches; I too am far from home.  I am an alien, but an alien with hope and a promise.  My promise is in John 14:1-3, where Jesus said,  “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, trust also in Me.  In My Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you.  I am going there to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with Me that you also may be where I am.”

Home is both a place and a person.  Someday, like the seagulls,  I will fly away home.

sincerely,     Grace Day

 

 

 

 

 

I was surprised at the turnout.  I was surprised at the number of speakers wanting to be heard.  I was surprised at the eloquence of some, surprised at the depth of emotion in others.  The news hadn’t led me to believe that the community cared this much about the closing of their school.  But here was the evidence right in front of me.  With every impassioned speech I was more convinced of the support for public education in this community.  But was anybody listening?

Those in positions of power sat on the stage above us, separated from and looking down on the rest of us, including the speakers as they spoke.  As speaker followed speaker, the audience was engaged and responsive, clapping often and loudly to show our support and rising to our feet on one occasion.  We were listening intently to every word.  But were the people with the power on the podium similarly engaged?  It was hard to tell.  I could only hope that they were hearing more than the words spoken before them.  I was hoping they were hearing the hearts of those individuals who had the courage to speak out.

You see, this wasn’t the first such meeting about this issue.  In fact, it was to be the last.  A last chance for those of us in the community who are impacted by the school’s closing to let our voices and our wishes be heard.  But will it make a difference?  We like to think that we can make a difference where we live.  We like to think that we have a voice in the issues that directly affect our daily lives, such as public school closings.  After all, we are the taxpayers.  These decisions determine how our money is being spent.  Shouldn’t we have a say in the spending of our own money?

We each want to feel that we have been heard.  We want to know that our voice matters, that our voice makes a difference.  If not, we feel powerless to affect change in our communities.  Powerlessness leads to frustration and frustration leads to apathy in time.  (or to violence)  If no one is listening, what reason is there to speak out?   We give up.  But that is never a good solution.

As I sat in the auditorium this night the question uppermost on my mind was this. Was this public meeting merely a formality to give the appearance of doing due diligence in seeking community input before a final decision is made?  Are they just going through the motions that the law requires?  Were their minds made up at some point long before this public process began?  As I watched the meeting unfold, I knew the people with the power on the podium were hearing the words, but were they listening?  Were they truly listening with open minds?  or had their minds long been made up and closed shut?

Were we just voices in the wilderness, crying out to no avail?  Is anybody listening?  I felt the impassioned words of the speakers were falling on deaf ears and closed minds.  Their pleas losing their power, left unheeded and unacknowledged.  So many voices crying out in succession.  I could hear the emotion behind the words, the fears and the hopes attached to them.  Could they?  I was listening with my heart as well as my head, both open, were they?  These were real people before them with names and faces and families.  Were the people on the podium hearing their words or just noise, random voices in the wilderness that have no significance and no meaning.

It’s a terrible thing to feel you are not heard and therefore you do not matter.  We all want to matter.   I’m grateful there’s one place where I know I’m heard and I know that I matter.  When I cry out to my Heavenly Father, I am assured that I am heard.  “Before a word is on my tongue You know it completely, O Lord.”  (Psalm 139:4)

“In the day of my trouble I will call to You, for You will answer me.”  (Psalm 86:7)

“Call to Me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.”  (Jeremiah 33:3)

I never feel like an unheard voice crying in the wilderness with my Heavenly Father.  His word assures me that He hears me and that He cares.  My voice is heard and my voice makes a difference with Him.

“In my distress I called to the Lord; I cried to my God for help.  From His temple He heard my voice; my cry came before Him, into His ears.”  (Psalm 18:6)

sincerely,     Grace Day

 

 

 

 

 

The students were working in groups today as I walked around the classroom keeping tabs on their progress.  It was then I noticed that one group of students had pulled out a deck of cards and was engrossed in their game.  When I brought to their attention the fact that this was not exactly what the lesson plan called for, ie. playing games, one of the students informed me that they were “task bonding”. Well, let me tell you, suddenly everything changed and I saw the light.  What I had perceived as a frivolous pastime, I now recognized as the serious business that it was.

How foolish of me not to have recognized the important process of task bonding even when I saw it taking place right before my very eyes!  Still, it looked an awful lot like a card game, it acted like a game, it felt like a game, it seemed like a game, it smelled like a game . . .  and games aren’t a part of this curriculum.  But task bonding is.   What to do?   a rose by any other name . . .

Which name shall I go with?   If I go with “game”, the cards must be put away.  If I go with “task bonding”,  it’s “carry on, you hard-working students, you; this is tough, important work you’re doing here, undoubtedly necessary to ensure the success of your own futures and the future of our country as well.  After all, who wants to live in a world where people lack the essential task bonding skill?  Not me.  You see, dear readers, I was experiencing the relevance of my previous post, “a rose by any other name”.  It DOES make a difference what we call/label something or someone.

I was acutely aware of this dilemma as the students awaited my decision.  Those two words, “task bonding”, had transformed a fun game into a serious educational activity, critical to the students’ learning and development.  Who was I to stand in the way of these students’ educational progress?  still, a rose by any other name . . .

Well,  let’s just say today I saw “task bonding” taking place.  But don’t get your hopes too high, students.  Tomorrow I’m sure I’ll just see plain old playing cards being played by a group of students who today successfully “played” their teacher. Pun intended.   well played, students!

today’s takeaway,    recognizing a rose isn’t all that hard.  Calling a rose a rose can sometimes be a challenge.

sincerely,       Grace Day

“She will give birth to a son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus, because He will save His people from their sins.”  (Matthew 1:21)

 

 

As I sat in my classroom on a regular July day, not so different from any other day in July, I thought to myself how glad I was we didn’t have year round school.  For years the debate had raged, there was widespread, vocal opposition to year round school.  The idea was not popular with the public, with parents, with students, with summer camp owners or with pool operators etc.  No one, it seemed, wanted to go to school year round.  Thank goodness that idea was defeated.

So what am I doing in school in July?  (and it’s not summer school)  Well, my school system, like those in the surrounding areas, is on a balanced calendar.  No one wanted year round school but who wouldn’t want their calendar to be balanced? It  sounds so reasonable, so rational, so right.   I mean, after all, who would want their calendar to be unbalanced?  This implies by definition that something is amiss.

And yet,  something is rotten in Denmark, if you know what I mean.  This balanced calendar sure smells a lot like year round school to me.  Yes, it looks like, feels like, acts like, just like year round school.  I’m with Shakespeare on this one, a rose by any other name does smell just as sweet or just as rotten.  Nothing has changed but the name.  But oh what a difference a name can make!

Yes, Shakespeare, I disagree with you on this one.  The rose may still smell as sweet or Denmark just as rotten, but by another name do we still recognize what was so clear to us before the name change?   I think not.  That’s why rebranding  is working so well these days.  Something not selling, whether a product or an idea, just rename it, rebrand it, put it out there under a new name.  Then stand back and watch people accept what they previously rejected or vice versa.

We used to shop for “used cars”.  Now we purchase “preferred previously owned vehicles”.   My mom used to deal with our sibling wars by having the offender or the offenders to sit alone on a chair removed from the others to “think about what we had done” and “until we could play nice/get along again”  don’t get up.  Today we call this a “time out” and it is considered an innovative, effective discipline technique preferred by parents and educators alike.  Who knew my mom was so forward thinking, so cutting edge, so ahead of her time?  She was practicing this before it had a name.  All that was missing was that she couldn’t say to us, “if you don’t stop that you’ll get a time out”.

A friend of mine was similarly savvy.  She knew the power of rebranding.  She needed a babysitter for the summers for her two young boys because her job, unlike their school at the time, was year round.  But her sons both felt they were much too old for a babysitter and would be embarrassed to have one.  My friend solved the problem by hiring her boys a “vacation assistant” each summer to transport them to their various activities and to assist them with their summer plans and schedule.  They loved it.   The rose just needed another name.

What’s in a name?  Apparently quite a bit.  Perception, power, presentation all influenced by what we name, label or call a particular person or an idea or an action or an event.  A minor military action is one thing but if we call that same event “war”, the ramifications are suddenly much bigger, more far reaching than before.  Something labeled “a random act of violence”  barely gets our attention, let alone a reaction.  Call that same event “a terrorist attack” and now it is not only noteworthy, it elicits an emotional response such as fear or anger and demands a collective response from the community as well.  It does matter what we call the rose.

Whether we call a cop a “law enforcement officer” or a “pig” makes all the difference in how we perceive them and therefore in how we treat them.  Slave owners used rebranding in an attempt to avoid facing the truth of their egregious lifestyle.  It would be wrong for people to own and oppress other people. Solution; the slaves were not “people” but “property”,  therefore the slave owners could delude themselves that they were not participating in an ongoing abomination of human rights, taking place in their very own households.  But a rose by any other name still smells the same, or in this case still stinks the same.

What’s in a name?  Does it make a difference whether we call it a flower or a weed?  Do we experience God’s merciful intervention in our lives and our circumstances and yet choose to call it fate or coincidence?  ( we know that “every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”  James 1:17)  And yet we persist in crediting fate or even ourselves and our own efforts, rather than give to God the honor and the glory that is due Him.  We would rather call God’s sovereignty by a different name and so subvert the truth.  But He is still sovereign.  Even if we refuse to acknowledge God, Psalm 19:1 tells us, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands.”  and Luke 19:40 tells us that if we keep quiet, the stones will cry out.   A rose by any other name . . .

We take the lives of unborn children and call it “pro choice”.   a rose by any other name . . .

We use our words as weapons to tear down and destroy individuals, ideals and ideas and call it free speech.   a rose by any other name . . .

we produce pornography and call it art.   a rose by any other name . . .

we don’t call our selfish, or self-destructive, or immoral, or illegal, or hurtful behaviors sin.  but a rose by any other name . . .   is still a rose, whether we call it what it is or not.

What’s in a name and why are names important?  Maybe because names are important to our Creator.  Consider that “He  who brings out the starry host one by one, and calls them each by name.  Because of His great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing.”  (Isaiah 40:26)  God knows the names of the stars He created and He knows the names of the people He’s created as well.

God is in the renaming/rebranding business but His purposes in doing so are good.  “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'”  (Jer. 29:11)  When God called Abram, He changed his name to Abraham.  God changed Sarai to Sarah and He changed Jacob’s name to Israel.  Later He changed Simon to Peter and Saul became Paul after his blinding conversion experience.

Why the name changes?  Maybe because of this truth, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!”  (2Cor. 5:17)  God is in the business of personal transformation.   “I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols.  I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”  (Ezekiel 36:25-26)  God changed these peoples’ names along with changing their hearts and their lives. We too are promised new names.  “To him who overcomes, . . .  I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it.”  (Revelation 2:17)

What’s in a name?  Plenty.  Words have power and therefore names have power. (see post “walking wounded”)  Our God is the living Word.  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us.”  (John 1: 1,14)

What’s in a name?  The Jews believed God’s name was too sacred to be spoken aloud. Because of this, Moses inquired of God what name he should give the Israelites  when they would question him about who had sent him.  We see God’s answer in Exodus 3:14-15, “God said to Moses, ‘I AM who I AM.  This is what you are to say to the Israelites:  I AM has sent me to you.’  God also said to Moses, ‘Say to the Israelites, The Lord , the God of your fathers– the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob–has sent me to you.’  This is My name forever, the name by which I am to be remembered from generation to generation.”

What’s in a name?  The power and the presence and the person of Jesus reside in His name.   Jesus has many, many names but I like what Revelation 19:12-16 tells us about some of them.  ” . . . on His head are many crowns.  He has a name written on Him that no one knows but He Himself.  He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and His name is the Word of God.  . . .   On His robe and on His thigh He has this name written:  KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. ”

Isaiah 9:6 tells us Jesus will be called, “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”  But the bottom line is found in Philippians 2:9-11 which tells us, “God exalted Him to the highest place and gave Him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

What’s in a name?  In Jesus’ name is His resurrection power that overcame death. In His name are the forgiveness, healing, hope, freedom and eternal life we all seek but few find.  Jesus truly is the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End.  So here I will close.

sincerely,          Grace Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tears streamed down my face as I sat alone watching the news coverage on TV. Now I find myself wondering, how is it that I can feel such sadness, such a deep sense of loss over the death of someone I never knew, someone I never met?  I am not a family member, friend or coworker of the person whose life was being honored today, but I feel the pain his loss is leaving all those who loved him.  And in watching the celebration of his life, which was his funeral, live on TV, I began to understand the loss I felt.  The loss of this man’s life had both a private and a public impact because in the living of his life this man was making a positive impact both privately and publicly.  No, he wasn’t a pro athlete, a famous musician, a well known movie or TV star or any other kind of celebrity that we love to worship in our culture.

He was an ordinary man, living an ordinary life with conviction, compassion and courage, day in and day out.  People that knew him were the better for it, he made the world a better place every day.  And that, dear readers, is extraordinary. There is nothing ordinary about the legacy he leaves behind, for others to learn from and to follow in his footsteps.  This man was a public servant, a policeman.  He took his job seriously, trying to make the world a friendlier, safer place for each and every one of us.  By all the personal accounts given at his funeral, he was succeeding each and every day in doing just that.

The outpouring of community support testifies to the impact his daily presence was having on the people he served so faithfully and selflessly.  It is fitting that he should be honored, acknowledged and appreciated.  I only wish we would be more intentional and diligent in appreciating those who serve us and protect us while they are still with us.  I regret that it takes a tragedy to bring the community together in support of our law enforcement officers who put their lives on the line for us every day.  We are silent too often, silence is never mistaken for support.

I feel the loss today and I am not alone.  Law enforcement officers came from all over the country and they did not know Lt. Allan personally either, but they feel the loss as well.  We are all more connected than we know and for some reason a tragic loss like this one allows us to realize and experience those connections, if only for the brief hours we grieve together, not wanting to be alone in our loss. There is comfort in knowing others are sharing your experience.  We are part of something bigger than ourselves.  Lt. Allan lived his life with meaning and purpose because he lived not for himself but for his family, his friends and his community.  Today his community expressed its’ gratitude loud and clear for all to see.

How is it I feel his loss so personally?  My own dad was a police officer.  There’s a connection there.  But there is more to it.  An assault on one doing what is right is an assault on each of us who would uphold law and order and freedom and justice.  We all lost something today with the death of Lt. Aaron Allan.

“Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”  (John 15:13)

Thank you Lt. Aaron Allan, for your service and for the legacy you leave us.  You made the world a better place.  May others follow in your footsteps.

sincerely,              Grace Day

 

 

 

 

Today’s skirmish wasn’t much really.  It started out so innocently.  I chose self-check, the lines were shorter, it would be faster.  Right?  I would miss making idle chit chat with the cashier but I would gain time.  Besides, maybe technology was taking a day off from being the bane of my existence.

The process started out well. I scanned my first item correctly and it rang up right. Then the trouble began.  I couldn’t pry the plastic bag hanging next to the machine open.  “Please place item in the bag,”  self-scan technology instructed me.  “I’m trying, I’m trying,”  was my frustrated reply.  Before I could get the plastic bag open, self-scan technology asked me to confirm via her screen that I did not want to bag this item.  “But I DO want to bag this item,”  I told SST(self-scan technology)  I just can’t get the bag open.  Can’t you be patient?

In the interest of getting along, I pressed the “I do not want to bag this item” choice so that I could scan my next item.  Before I scanned my second item however, I succeeded in getting the bag open and deposited my first item.  Well, this did not sit well with SST because I had already told her I did not wish to bag this item.  Let the games begin.  It was on now.

Scanning my next item and placing it in the now open bag, I noticed SST telling me urgently to “place item in the bag.”   Problem was, I already had done this.  “It IS in the bag,”  I told SST in no uncertain terms.  But she persisted with her request to put my item in the bag.  So I took it out and put it in again. This did not satisfy SST in the least.  I selected the “I do not wish to bag this item,”   option while leaving my item in the bag so that I could proceed.  Score one for me!

My next item did not ring up at the sale price shown on the shelf where the item was displayed.  “You are wrong!”, I told SST,  “this item is on sale.”  But SST did not believe me, she would not change the price.  I waited for the real person on duty to finish helping someone else who was also having trouble with SST.  I explained the problem and with a key the real person forced SST to give me the promised sale price for my item.  Take that technology!

I think this made SST mad.  I say this because of what happened next.  SST upped her game.  When she thought my item wasn’t in the bag, she began telling me to “place item on the belt.”  And she wouldn’t let me scan any more items until I complied.  “But the item is already in the bag,” I reminded SST.  “I don’t want to put it on the belt!”  SST does not care what I want.  She makes this clear to me when my ice cream and my dark chocolate bar will not scan.  I cannot get the familiar “beep” no matter how many times I pass the bar code over SST’s scanner.  She is turning a blind eye.  She is standing between me and my favorite treats.  Who does SST think she is anyway?  My mother, telling me what I can and can’t eat?  All this power is going to her head.  (does SST even have a head?  clearly she has no heart) Does she know how hard produce is to check out?  code numbers have to be known and entered and then things have to be weighed.  It’s a much more complicated process.  Come on SST, just give me the goodies!

As I scanned my last item SST again told me to “please place item in the bag.” Trouble was, this was a twenty pound bag of kitty litter and it was definitely not going in that bag or any bag.  I waited patiently for the “I do not wish to bag this item,”  option to appear but for some reason SST seemed bent on having me bag this twenty pound bag of kitty litter.  I could wait her out.  SST had to give me the other option in a timely manner,  didn’t she?

Well, I did eventually leave the store.  But only after soliciting further assistance from a real person.  You see, SST refused to give me a paper receipt after taking my card.  This was unacceptable.  SST was being totally uncooperative and holding me hostage. Thankfully the real person intervened on my behalf and SST coughed up my receipt.  Game over.  (for now)  Next time I will wait in a cashier’s line.  Real people trump technology every time.

“A cheerful heart is good medicine, . . . ”  (Proverbs 17:22)

hope this gave you a chuckle,   sincerely,     Grace Day