Wrestling with Words and Water

Wrestling with Words and Water
by Brenda Black

As articles spew facts, forecasts, water depths and wave heights from two separate news events this past weekend, speculations and shocking responses gush forth just as furiously. Teenager Abby Sunderland was rescued amid 30 foot crashing waves from her sail boat in the Indian Ocean, while entire families were swept away by 23 foot flash floods in the Arkansas Mountains. Harsh opinions and bold defenses have surfaced for the 16 year old adventurer. Deep sympathy and numbed silence grip lonely survivors who remain to face the horror of losing a spouse or child or both instantly. Each headliner begs the question: Is any place truly safe?

I've read both cruel and compassionate feedback to these stories. I've wrestled with my own cynicism toward the one and tearful sympathy for the others. And I've had to stop and think how often we are quick to judge another's judgement.

The teen mariner, experienced beyond her years according to her boat-building father who taught her how to sail, set out to fulfill a dream. She wanted to prove something to herself and others who might notice her sea savvy grit. Her boat was equipped with high tech communication systems and the hull stocked with ample provisions. She just never counted on a 30 foot wave. Could she have anticipated it? Possibly. Could she stop it? No.

The families that ventured into the Arkansas hills for some tranquility simply set out to get away from it all and enjoy the great outdoors along a peaceful creek bank. They had nothing to prove except to teach little ones how to cook a hot dog over an open fire or catch a minnow along the water's edge. Their tents and campers were packed with paper goods, life jackets and snacks enough for the weekend. High tech gadgets like cell phones and computers were put to rest intentionally. They just never counted on needing them and they never expected the sudden rise of a trickling stream during their sleep to engulf them. Could they have anticipated it? Possibly. Could they stop it? No.

No matter how prepared or trained, the fact remains: we never know what we'll ultimately face each day. On solid ground rather than rolling waves, we can crash during a quick trip to town. Even if we heed the warnings of approaching storms and shelter ourselves in concrete bunkers, there is no guarantee we'll survive the fury of a tornado. Life is precious. Life is precarious. We should never be so presumptuous to think any one exempt from tragedy or sudden death.

That's why it is imperative that we live life ready for the waves. Not in fear or dread. But prepared. Not in gloomy doom. But in great security that no matter what unexpected force blows our way, we face it with courage and confidence. What a tremendous peace is offered to those in dire circumstances and those left to deal with the grievous loss, if they know the crashing forces in this life launch us to a fairer shore.

As I check my own quick judgement on the judgements of others, I pray that these families caught unaware and a young girl bold beyond her years know the Creator of the seas and the rivers and the rains. It is His judgement that matters, not mine. It is His will that Sunderland was spared. It is His mercy that will heal broken lives of shocked campers. It His desire that people be ready at all times in all places because we just never know if this day is our last. So live your life pursuing your dreams. Just make sure the passion you pursue brings you closer to the Lord. And spend your time where you enjoy. Just make sure that wherever you camp, you dwell near the heart of God.

“'For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.'” (John 3:16-17)

May the Lord make each of us ready for what we may anticipate, but what we cannot change.



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Get Ready to Launch

Get Ready to Launch
By Brenda Black

On Mother's Day, I was lavished with dark chocolates and pink roses and two deeply emotional cards from my sons. I used to get hand made treasures and crayon scribbled notes that melted my heart. Then, the presents shifted to gifts of necessity rather than sentimentality – I got things like a fry pan or salad spinner. So this Mother's Day I was quite enamored with the bearers of such adoring gifts. First, that they remembered and got them without any prompting. Secondly, how sincere and mature their gestures seemed. Then again, I am now the mother of men, not boys.

While the sweet smell of flowers fills my home, another sensation overwhelms my faculties. It's more like a cold, cream pie – not awakening my taste buds, rather hitting me square in the face! One son has but a single year of college to attend and the other is presently graduating high school. This Mother's Day, there's not just a switch in the gifts, there's a paradigm shift in my life – from boys at home to an empty nest.

As I face a future void of smelly socks, I focus on more important items like whether I've succeeded at truly launching my children into the next phase of life. Did I L-A-U-N-C-H ( Love, Articulate, Understand, Nourish, Connect, and Hug) intentionally so that they are equipped to sail under red-sky evenings with pleasure and overcome any crashes due to red-sky mornings on their journeys?

Loving is easy, right? Certainly when they are new and cuddly and soft and cooey. Sure, I have loved when they made me laugh with innocent antics and silly songs and games. I loved when they were afraid or had a bad day and needed some encouragement. Loving came easy when they were sick or hurting. But did I love when they misbehaved or defied my authority? Was love on my mind when they caused me worry? Yes! Just as Paul addressed his brothers in Christ in Corinth, my love has often taken many forms as a parent. Sometimes love was a painful admonition. “I wrote you out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to grieve you but to let you know the depth of my love for you.” (2 Corinthians 2:4)

State, vent, utter, voice, enunciate, sometimes pontificate, but always articulate. As parents, we teach, preach, praise and scold with words. But the most important sound my sons needed to hear rang with perfect truth -- “...the words of the Lord are flawless.” When they were little, I challenged them to memorize Scripture. As they grew, we talked about application for every day occurrences. And now they hunger for more! In the midst of teaching them history, grammar, science and arithmetic, they also had appetites whetted for the Word that instructs and gives life. Yes, I articulated the Word that is eternal (Psalm 119:89), the Word that is a lamp and a light for their paths (Ps. 119:105), the Word that provides instruction and wisdom (Ps. 119:97). Now I articulate prayers that my sons will claim for themselves: “Your statutes are my heritage forever; they are the joy of my heart. My heart is set on keeping your decrees to the very end.” (Ps. 119:111-112)

Why do boys make funny noise? Why do they not see clutter? Why must boys wrestle next to the China cabinet? I never quite figured out the answers to all their masculine mysteries, but I tried my best to understand their need for activity and their blindness to neat and tidy. More importantly, I studied their individual personalities and learned to appreciate their differences and embrace their unique gifts and interests. I can now quickly decipher whether they are excited or nervous, scared or angry. I also learned how important it was to each of them that I understand what they were feeling.

The last half of the launch expresses ongoing love which carries great influence on our children and moves them beyond just the launch to keeping them afloat. Nourish their passions by encouraging pursuit. Connect at every opportunity as they grow and so do you. And Hug with great exuberance every time you meet or part! “Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are sons born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.” (Ps. 127:3-4a)

When the nest is empty, my heart will still be full – full of wonderful memories, filled with God's promises spoken over my children, brimming with new understanding for all their uniqueness. I'll be fed with new excitement as I encourage their interests and blessed to keep the lines of communication open, especially when I get to embrace them each time they visit. God knows where their ships will sail. And I'll be here on the shore praying over their journeys and will keep the light burning just in case they ever hit rough waters.

May you find joy as your children mature. I pray you can look back with peace knowing you did your best by loving, articulating, understanding, nourishing, connecting, and hugging, so that you can look forward with confidence. If your greatest treasures are safe in the Lord, have no fear. Those you are launching will be prepared to go the distance and you will as well.