Accessible Success

If every word that has been written were written on the sky, would the world see the sun?  Man’s attempt to build the tower of Babel was thwarted by the Almighty.  Man thinks to build it again with bricks of glue and paper.

If every word that man has spoken were spoken all at once, would the world be deafened by the noise?  Every man caries his soap box.  How often he fails to see that the contents of his platform would benefit from an application of the former contents of his platform,  but it is so much easier to carry when empty.

A word is an abstract thing.  When written, a mere collection of letters.  When spoken, a collection of sounds.  A word may be seen, heard, even felt, but of itself it has no substance.  Yet our world is defined by words.

What a paradox is the word.  Words in the mouth of one are priceless, while the same words in the mouth of another are worthless.  They carry the power of destruction and the power of creation.  They are a murderer’s knife and a surgeon’s scalpel.  They are a deadly poison and a healing tonic.

Oh that we would learn to give value to our words, for the power of the word is in the speaker.  How often we toss them around like refuse, taking no thought for where they may land.  We expect others to except them as truth, but fail to honor them ourselves.  In our anger we throw them at the ones we love, and then don’t understand why they throw them back at us.  We see our own bleeding and still fail to understand that the same thing that wounded us also wounded them.  We grow our thick skin, which, while it may be less easily damaged, is also less able to feel.

Where is the truth?  If we construct an understanding of ourselves and our world with words, where is the foundation that would support such a structure?  What an amazing thing, that the creator of the universe would choose as one way to define Himself, “The Word.”  The Word brought the earth into existence. The Word created man in His own image.  “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”  The Word is life to us.  It is His power delivered to us through His words that provides a standard by which the value of all other words may be judged.  The enigmatic word, personified, purified and glorified, is Jesus Himself. May The Word be the master of your words from this day forward.

I am not sure how to write this, but it seems to me worthwhile to expand on what I have written in the book in a way that reveals the ongoing struggles that come with life on this earth and the strength to endure that comes from our Lord. I have written of success as something defined by Him and not by us. I am determined that His view is the only one that matters to me. We all know that’s easy to say and hard to live.

I finished the book just as I began a new job. It had been my hope that I might use the free time granted me by the severance package I had from my previous employer to build up the church, and maybe start a new career, but I had no clear vision of what that looked like. When the end of the severance payments drew near, I fell back on what I knew and took a job as a contract programmer. I had a peace about it. Our tithes are a significant part of the churches income. The best thing I could do for the church at that time was to return to work and keep the money flowing.

The past month has brought new challenges. My wife, Linda, had a fall, cut her head, and ended up in a rehab hospital. Her care has become increasingly difficult, and I knew we could not keep going as we were. This incident forced the issue. She’s back home now, and we are trying to figure out how to adapt to a new reality and wondering how long until it changes again. My last contract ended, and the bills are starting to arrive.

She came home last Friday. She has not been able to attend church in person for some time, but we broadcast our messages through Facebook. She calls another member who feels that she cannot attend and they watch together. As long as I am not gone for more than a few hours, she has been fine by herself. However, that was not the case last Sunday, so soon after being discharged. We were planning on doing things as normal, but as it became apparent that she would not be alright left alone, I called off the service and stayed home with her. During the “pandemic”, we briefly did everything remotely, but I had just canceled my Zoom subscription to save money.

The week before, our treasurer informed the church that we were spending more than we take in, a situation we have not faced in decades. Due to her careful management, we are not in immediate peril, but it is a strong signal that things need to change if we are to keep the doors open.

In the past few weeks, I have paced the floor, prayed and cried. The emotions overtake me without warning, sometimes with no apparent provocation. Who am I to write about success? I seem to be failing at everything that matters to me, and as I understand it, to God. I grieve the suffering of my beloved, and I don’t see how this gets better. There is not one person in our congregation that isn’t suffering from something, and I grieve for them as well.

Yet in the middle of all of this, Holy Spirit speaks to me, and tears come to my eyes again as I reflect on His goodness. Everything that He has taught me remains true. If I look to myself, I am guaranteed to fail. If I look to Father, His strength will be shown in my weakness. I believe what He said. I know that He is doing a greater work than I can see from here. I know that I can trust Him. My success is still accessible, because it is in His hands, not mine.

In conclusion, I would like to share with you the message that I delivered to the church last time we met. It is part of a series on the book of John, but it has particular relevance to the things I have been speaking of here. It won’t be the most eloquent thing you ever heard, but it is a powerful illustration of the truth. I hope it will bless you as I was blessed in its preparation.

It was 2010. I had been feeling a little restless. I felt like I had become too comfortable relying on the help of others.  As a young man, I used to go all over the place on my own, but having settled down in one place, made friends, gotten older, and gotten married, I increasingly relied on others to get me where I needed to go.  I recognized it as a wonderful blessing, but it started to bother me. I felt a little trapped.  I felt resentful of the limitations others seemingly placed on me.  The truth is they did nothing but help me. If I felt confined, it was my own fault.  I feared that I was forgetting how to manage on my own, and I couldn’t afford to let that happen.  One never knows what the future will hold.  I was grateful for the life I had, but circumstances change.  People move away, get sick, or just don’t’ have time anymore.  I need the exercise both physically and mentally of getting out and doing things for myself.

Thus it was that I began my little misadventure that day. Overall I enjoyed it.  I did make my destination and had a great time while there.  It was just the traveling that didn’t go so well.

I was headed for a meeting of Blind Ambitions Groups, a local support group that met once a month in various locations around the Dallas area. I don’t remember what made me try it on Google Maps.  It might have been simply the discovery that the service was better than DART’s own for plotting a trip by public transit. Walking directions had just been introduced. This was my first time to try them out.

The trip started out well enough.  I got on the same bus to the train station that I would take when going down town for work.  The driver saw my white cane and wanted to be sure I knew I didn’t have to pay the full fair.  I almost always paid full fair.  It was partly because I had not taken the time to go get the ID card that would officially qualify me, and partly because I have never liked to take handouts I don’t really need.  It is a reasonable argument that whatever I think about subsidies they do exist and my taxes are paying for them, but it didn’t feel right, and it would be several more years before I finally signed up for paratransit services.

Things started to go south when I made it to the train station.  Literally, I took the south bound train instead of the north bound train I needed to be on.  Don’t ask me why.  There is no confusion as to where to get on each train, so I can only blame myself for that one.  I realized my error as the doors closed behind me and the train pulled away from the station.  I had to get off at the next stop and wait for the one going back north, costing me a valuable ten minutes or more.  The north bound train was standing room only and the operator did not announce the stops as they are supposed to do when no automated system is in place.  Maybe he or she wasn’t aware that the system wasn’t working.  I made it to my stop without further incident, asking my fellow passengers for help.

Then I needed to get from the station to the church where the meeting was held.  That should be no problem, right?  I have my trusty Google Maps walking directions.  The trouble is that they were a little misleading.  They may have been technically accurate, but they left me the impression that one street would curve and become another when in fact what confronted me looked like a standard intersection.  Maybe there was a reasonable explanation, but I was confused.  In an instant my internal map was shredded and I didn’t know where to go.  I knew the general lay of the land and thought I knew where some of the major streets were, but I could not find most of the signs using my monocular. After a bit of wandering around and a conversation with a friendly apartment dweller, I made my way to the street where the church was located and got to the meeting about thirty minutes late.

I thoroughly enjoyed the meeting.  Amazingly or maybe not so amazingly listening to how the order process kept being interrupted by random conversation, the planned meal had not been ordered yet.  It was a very small group, but I like that.  The larger the group the more isolated I feel.  I made new friends and got to know another one a little better.

When the meeting was over, I had to get back home.  I had no problem getting back to the train station.  I got an earlier train than the one I planned for, so when I got off I thought I could walk the approximately two miles from the train station to my house before the next bus would get me there.

I suppose I might have learned from the first experience that relying on what Google told me might not be the best idea, especially since it was starting to get dark.  No, how hard can it be?  All I had to do was make it down to one street from the station and go over to the one my house is on.  There was a major highway between me and my destination, but I’ve handled that before.  I didn’t imagine any major difficulty in doing it that night. 

Maybe in the full light of day I might have seen the proper path to get across the on and off ramps to the expressway and continue my journey home, but what happened instead is that I made it under the bridge and then realized that I was in a very bad position.  There is a large area of concrete off the road where I was standing, but in the failing light it was hard to be certain that I wasn’t in the road.  Between me and safety was the off ramp to the highway and anyone making that turn would not have been able to see me and stop before hitting me.  I could not see around the concrete wall to attempt crossing the exit before a car would come flying down the ramp.  Getting into that situation wasn’t easy, and when I went back to see if I could retrace my steps to the bus station I realized I was in no better position on the other side.

After a couple of unnerving false starts, I saw that I was in trouble.  I just stood there looking around and hoping some kind soul would rescue me.  I started holding my cane up over my head, but I was not in a good place for anyone to stop if they were of a mind to.  They probably thought I was begging.  I finally managed to swallow my pride, and not knowing what else to do, I called 911.  I might have called my wife or other friends in the area, but I didn’t know if I could tell them how to safely get to me.  So it was that I finish my trek in a police car.  At least I wasn’t in the back.  Thank you Sergeant Holly.

So we’ve covered the blind ambition and the fast cards. What about walking on water? To cap off this fine evening, I entered my house to find that our water heater began leaking while I was out. My first clue was the squelching of soggy carpet as I walked down the hall. My wife had everything in hand, and I was just glad to be safely home.  My first thought was to rejoice, because the One who really walks on water reached out His hand and pulled us up.  I’d do it again, but now I prefer Uber.

One Sunday morning a few years into our marriage, my wife and I went out for breakfast.  As we waited for a table, I heard, “Lee, party of one.”  Maybe it was Leigh.  I didn’t see who responded.  I just remember thinking, “I used to do that.”  At first, I even enjoyed it.  It was part of the adventure of being on my own and doing what I wanted to do.  The fun didn’t last.  As the lonely years went by, I stopped going out just to go out.  You can’t have a party with only one.  It set me wondering about the circumstances that brought this person to wait and eat alone in a crowded restaurant on a bright Sunday morning.  In our disconnected society that devalues relationship, was she always alone?  Is he sitting at the table sending text messages while facing the empty seat on the other side?  Is this a temporary or permanent situation?

We were never meant to be alone.  God made that plain from the beginning (Gen 2:18.)  We were made to love and be loved.  I believe that God gave us all forms of relationship to teach us how He loves us, though in our fallen world these relationships are often corrupted and do not serve their intended purpose.  As children we know the need for our father’s love.  As parents we get a glimpse of God’s love for His children.  As spouses we see a shadow of the intimacy we are meant to have with God.  Relationships are precious things to be nurtured and treasured.  I know what it’s like to be alone. Though in those early years the difficulties of forging a successful marriage at times made me think I was better off before, I thanked God then and thank Him now that I do not have to hear, “Larry, party of one.”

For fifteen years I lay in the painful shards of a broken relationship and crushed dreams, until God rescued me.  My trust in Him continues to grow as the things I once thought impossible become reality.  This is my encouragement to those still waiting.  Put your trust in Jesus and you will never be alone (Rom 8:38-39.)  Wait on Him, and you will find true love.

The day has come! Actually, it came Friday, but dedicated blogger that I am, I didn’t even think to post something here. If you’ve seen my work at lionsrealm.net, you know that was meant as a joke. I still need a real job to meet our needs, so updates may be slow in coming, but they will be coming.

You should be able to purchase the book at any of the major online retailers. Here’s the link for Amazon. A Kindle version is also available.