Inspection of Downtown

For lunch I usually jump in the van, rush home, eat, and then hurry back to work.  The rush reminds me of what John Steinbeck said about superhighways, "These great roads are wonderful for moving goods but not for inspection of a countryside. You are bound to the wheel and your eyes to the car ahead and to the rear-view mirror for the car behind and [...] at the same time you must read all the signs for fear you may miss some instructions or orders. No roadside stands selling squash juice, no antique stores, no farm products or factory outlets. When we get these thruways across the whole country, as we will and must, it will be possible to drive from York to California without seeing a single thing."

 

Last Friday was different.  I was stuck without a vehicle but wanted desperately to get out of the office for lunch.  So zipping up the same old worn Eddie Bauer coat from college days and adding other cold weather gear, I stepped out the door to begin the inspection.  Downtown buildings and leafless branches against gray clouds gave the feeling of Paul Cornoyer’s The Plaza After Rain as I met winter head on.  

 

Instead of rain though, snow filled the street and sidewalks….falling, blowing, swirling all around.  The storm slows down both traffic and the pace of life creating a front porch atmosphere.  “Good to see you again,” I overhear one person tell another.  Workers for a local plumbing company congregate on the sidewalk to talk.  “Cold day for walking,” I comment to a lady headed in my direction.  “Yes, but it’s good to be out.   The library is closed due to inclement weather,” she says.      

 

On Prince Street I walk past locally owned businesses that have stood the test of time.  Quick Prints preceded Staples.  Roma preceded Papa John’s.  The Studio preceded Tamarack Gallery.  All of these and others give character to downtown.  With each step the snow gives a squeaky crunch under my feet leaving a print.  It’s just the kind of thing that entertains a mind satisfied with simple pleasures.    

 

Arriving at the CRC building, I duck into the lounge for some solitude and am surrounded by books.  Giving the shelves a quick once over, I make a choice that would make my friend Sam very proud.  My choice is the 1948 edition of Masterpieces of Religious Verse.  In it I encounter Alfred Tennyson, Emily Dickinson, George Eliot, Henry W. Longfellow and John Milton.  Finally putting it down I head out the door to begin the process of inspection all over again. 

 

Abba:I Belong to You

If you haven’t read Psalm 103 recently you should.  It expresses descriptively and vividly the care of Abba our Heavenly Father toward us.  He “redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, [he] satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.”   Also, “The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.”

 

We are His children, and our adoption is the footing for this privileged position.  For it is “in love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will.”  Adoption is the legal theological term that ascertains our standing.  We enter the family and are given full rights through God’s action on our behalf. 

 

While “adoption” is the concept that well describes our standing with the Father, it is the expression “Abba” that paints a picture of our relationship with Him.  “You received the Spirit of sonship.  And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’” 

 

One of the first words of a young child is “da-da-dada.”  Similarly for a Hebrew baby who says, “a-a-abba” (daddy).  That is exactly what adoption does for us.  It places us in an undreamed of, unheard of intimate relationship with our Daddy Father.  We now can speak of and to the infinite transcendent God with the same familiar term used by a toddler.

 

How different I would be if the primary identity carried through life was my place as a son in the family.  If only I nurtured this “Abba, I belong to you” relationship.  How different life would be if at the end of the day I viewed myself as my Father’s beloved child. 

 

Psalm 103 points us in that direction.  We will surely be enlarged as we contemplate this Abba relationship in silent wonder, radical amazement and affectionate awe.

 

Kenneth Jude Young

New Year's Risk

There is a fairly well known story of three people who were given finances to invest.  Each individual received differing proportions with the understanding of a future accounting.  The first received the greatest portion, seized the opportunity and made large gains.  The second, while working with less also prospered. 

The story’s focus however was upon the third individual whose portion was sparse.  Limited resources made him fearful.  Fear made him tentative.  In the end he did nothing with the little allotted to him.  Along with the day of accounting came a stiff reprimand.  Then an eternal perspective to those gathered around, which in essence was, “Risk your life and get more than you ever dreamed of. Play it safe and end up holding the bag.” 

This statement found some clarity in my life on New Year’s Eve.  The girls were at the School of Harmony taking music lessons.  Diana, Adri and I returned home and settled in around the fireplace with a pot of tea.  All the activities of seeing the New Year in awaited, but for now we were content to sit, sip and converse.  At some point I read this thought provoking insight which had been jotted down on a worn piece of paper.  “Maybe instead of having our New Year’s resolutions, we should give risks we are taking,” Adri commented. 

Interesting comment.  Challenging thought.  Maybe it’s something we all need in our lives in this New Year.  I’m sure I do. Not so much resolutions but an element of Spirit impressed risk.  Risk that springs out of prayerful waiting on God.  Risk that requires a measure of faith. 

Personally our family is taking a small step in this direction as I discontinue the weekend job and become more intentional in being involved in what God is doing.  It comes with a degree of uncertainty, but I don’t want to be left holding the bag. 

Waiting Done Well

Waiting is seldom done well.  It's much more akin to nervous tension than to peaceful reflection.  We just are not prepped for it in our western industrialized society.  Waiting is an uncomfortable nuisance to productivity and accomplishment.  Our cultural thinking demands that we “get things done”, “make things happen”, and “achieve our goal.”   Learning to wait well lets us hear from God and soothes the restlessness of our souls.    

Some have alerted us to the idea.  People like Hudson Taylor who reminded us that, “It is never a waste of time to wait on God.”  Jeremiah and David lend a good bit more oomph to it.  These revelatory writers say things like, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him" and “In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation.”

While waiting takes time, it is not passive.  Instead it is actively expectant that God is always working – occasionally on center stage and always behind the scenes.  Waiting then is grounded in expectant hopefulness of what will be revealed.   It’s not moving from nothing to something but from something to something more. 

Israel waited to be delivered from Egypt.  Simeon waited to see the Christ.  Abraham waited to receive his promise. The psalmist waited for the Lord God’s answer.  Christians wait for the blessed hope.  We wait for God to reveal what He has set in motion. 

Waiting done well is not wishful selfishness. It is not teeth gritting resolve.  Waiting done well is hopeful expectation.

2012 Through My Lens - A Photo Journal

The brilliant red sky on a cold February evening from our backyard

 

Lazy weekends with books and a cup of tea are always welcome at our house - some of the reads this year included: Five Smooth Stones, A Wrinkle in Time, Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Father Brown Crime Stories, Tell It Slant

 

The family was reunited in April when we traveled to Colorado to visit Daniel and to spend some time in the Rockies at Estes Park

 

Diana and I spent our 24^th anniversary celebration in Lewisburg where we viewed this painting in the Carnegie Hall Art Gallery

 

We saw the New River Gorge Bridge with the Goodlings who were visiting on Labor Day Weekend – we need to repay their visit in Lancaster County this year

 

My mom also came for a week’s visit this year – I snapped this photo of my boyhood church (Liberty) the weekend we returned to Tennessee

 

I have seen the leaves in New England and the Smoky Mountains – our West Virginia countryside is as spectacular as either

 

This year a group of young adults started meeting at our home on Sunday evenings

 

Daniel returned to live at home and study Liberty online – we began playing lots more family games including Seven Wonders

 

Adri came for a Christmas visit from Houston and we ended up where else but the Bookstore in Lewisburg

 

We wish you all an adventurously wonderful 2013 from the Cooper Gallery