I AM, I am not

My husband and I moved from the South Carolina upstate to Walterboro almost eighteen years ago. It was my husband’s job that brought us here; that and the call of God on our lives. I left behind a career and came here with no job. No friends. No family. And really, no idea.

During the first five years here, I had difficulty finding my lowcountry self and where I fit in.  I made the rounds in volunteer positions at church. I looked for employment. At one of those early job interviews, I walked into a room where a committee of five or six people sat in a semi-circle facing one lone, empty chair. Before I ever even sat down in that chair, one of the committee members said, “Well, if you’re from Walterboro how come I don’t know who you are?” Immediately, I knew the interview was over before it even started. To be from somewhere else and not be known is one thing, but to be from here and not be known was a travesty to them. Needless to say, I didn’t get the job.

I was trying to find myself and my place here and all I really found was failure and disappointment. That is, until I finally figured out that finding myself wasn’t really what I needed. Instead, I needed to be losing myself. I needed to get busy doing something for someone else rather than focusing on myself. 

 Since then I’ve done a lot of pro bono work for several individuals and business organizations throughout the community. I’ve done some graphic design work. I’ve written a few things. And you know what happens when you’re willing to do something just because someone else needs you to? You sit at your computer working on it and before you realize it, hours have passed. You lose yourself.

The apostle Paul had that figured out. He learned it from Jesus and talks about it in Chapter 2 of Ephesians: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.”

A few verses later, Paul talks about the results of Jesus doing just that. His name was made greater than every other name, so much so that all the knees in heaven and earth will be bent in reverence. Jesus lost himself in his work for others and the result is that every single soul not only will know his name but will also worship it. In the gospel of John, the name Jesus is identified by is I AM.  He says of himself, “I AM the bread of life.” “I AM the light of the world.” “I AM the way, the truth, and the life.” John also describes Jesus as THE WORD. 

I’m sitting at my computer typing this and when I finish, I will email it to the editor. I don’t usually have a need to visit the Press and Standard office in person. Last week, however, I went there to tend to some business that had absolutely nothing to do with this column. I walked in and introduced myself to the employee at the front desk and explained my reason for being there. While I was standing at the front counter, the sound of a booming bass voice came from further back in the office. It was Drew Tripp and he asked me if I was the same Nancy Davis that had written the recent columns for the Faith page. I confirmed that I was and he asked me for a minute of my time. Apparently there had been some in-house discussion there about what the tag should be at the end of my column; the info about who I am and how I can be contacted. I don’t think I had ever met Drew in person before, nor Brantley Strickland either. I have seen their names and pictures in the paper and I follow them on social media, but we’ve never been formally introduced. They don’t really know me and therefore weren’t sure about what to say about me.

I’ve been in Walterboro nearly twenty years and there are people who still don’t know who I am. Sure, there are more people in Walterboro who know me now than there were at the time of that dreadful job interview, but a whole new generation has been born since then. This new crowd of people gives me even more opportunities to lose myself in doing things for and serving them. Maybe they will see THE WORD in my words. They may not know who I am, but maybe they will catch a glimpse of I AM. 

This was originally posted September 21, 2014 on The Press and Standard's website:
www.colletontoday.com 

Biscuits and Honey

I have a favorite pair of athletic shoes. They are the most comfortable shoes I’ve ever worn and they are the perfect neutral shade with a little bit of accent color to satisfy my fashion sensibilities. After a couple of years of wear, the rubber soles began to separate. I tried all kinds of adhesives from Elmer’s to Gorilla Glue to get them to stick back together. Those products worked temporarily. It wasn’t long before the soles were once again unglued. They can’t be made right again. The damage was permanent.

Those shoes are still in my closet because I can’t bring myself to throw them away. I suppose I could wear them if I was willing to tolerate the soles slapping my heels on every step. There’s nothing like permanent damage to help you see more clearly just how temporary things in this life are.  

My husband has a friend whose hobby is beekeeping. He has shared some of his beekeeping knowledge and one interesting fact that I learned recently is that honey doesn’t spoil. I’m so neurotic about checking expiration dates or best before dates on grocery store products that I didn’t believe it when I first heard it. I did a little research and discovered he was right. Honey will last forever.  That is, provided you leave it on the shelf and don’t eat it.

Imagine that. In our temporary, disposable, drive through, express lane, modern convenience lives, there really is something that will last.

The Israelites wandering in the wilderness knew about temporary. They also knew a little bit about honey. For forty years they lived in temporary housing and ate temporary food.  They were not always happy about it either. They grumbled about their lack of food and God responded, “I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day” (Exodus 16:4). They got manna, with instructions. They were told to gather only enough for one day at a time. If they gathered more than they needed for one day, it spoiled. 

Talk about temporary. The manna was enough to sustain them day by day but it wasn’t intended to satisfy them completely. They had been promised a land of their own flowing with milk and honey. They had somewhere else to go with something better in store for them there. If God had given them milk and honey in Camp Wilderness, they likely would have erected an altar to that sweet spot and become permanent residents there instead of 40-year transients. They never would have made it to the Promised Land.  

Manna spoiled after one day. They were headed to a place that was dripping with honey, a sustenance that lasts forever. To be left wanting is motivation to press on. To actually press on through the temporary circumstances that cause you to grumble can bring permanent, lasting rewards. 

In Deuteronomy 29:5, the forty year wilderness adventure is coming to a close and the Israelites are almost ready to step foot in the Promised Land. Moses is urging them to honor God, the one who sustained them with temporary manna and brought them to this place where they will eat honey that doesn’t spoil. He reminds them of the proof of God’s faithfulness and provision:  during those forty years, their sandals never wore out. 

It took me months, maybe even a year, of looking at new athletic shoes to find a replacement for my old favorites. It actually took buying a couple of pairs to finally find a decent substitute and even then I still felt like I was settling. I grumbled about it. My old favorites were temporary. My new ones will be too. My proof of God’s faithfulness will not be that my shoes don’t wear out. It is that Jesus paved the way for that narrow path to my promised land. All I need to do is follow His footsteps. I know I have somewhere else to go and something else better for me waiting there. In the meantime, it’s biscuits and honey for me.

This article was originally posted September 7, 2014 on The Press and Standard's website:

www.colletontoday.com

Get Your Helmets Ready 'cause Game Day is Here

My husband, Scott, is a minister. That calling marked his life even before he finished high school. It was evident early in his life, not only to Scott but to people around him as well. My husband is also a Florida Gator fan. No one can explain that. I won’t even try. When Tim Tebow was quarterback for the Florida Gators, Scott found a connection between his football and his faith that made him especially excitable on game days.

Following his spiritual intuition, Tebow changed the message on his eye black from his usual Phil. 4:13 to John 3:16 for the 2009 BCS national championship game against the Oklahoma Sooners. The Gators won that championship. Over the next 24-hours, John 3:16 hit the top of the most-Googled item list with more than 92 million searches.

That’s 92 million searches for a single Bible verse. If anyone is going to read only one verse of the Bible, John 3:16 is probably the verse to read. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” It sums up the gospel. That verse alone can inspire us to consider God’s love, Jesus’ sacrifice, and our own eternity. It’s a good place to start.

There are definite benefits to focusing on a single Bible verse. However, I think we often have a tendency to create our own less than accurate context for a single verse if we fail to read the verses that come before and after it. John 3:16 is a good example. If it’s the first time you’ve heard those words, you might not know that it is Jesus himself speaking them. If you have heard them before but are not as comfortable or familiar with more of the Bible, you’re likely to think that they were delivered to a crowd of people. That’s probably because these days it’s a popular verse to share in public gatherings, like Tim Tebow at a college football game. If you read all 36 verses of the third chapter of John, you will see that Jesus is having a one-on-one conversation with Nicodemus, a religious leader who was having difficulty understanding the “born again” concept.  Nicodemus waited until after dark, a time less likely to be seen, to go and talk to Jesus about it. It wasn’t a Jumbotron kind of conversation.

A couple of weeks ago, Brantley Strickland wrote a column seeking submissions from clergymen to help enhance the Faith & Values page. He asked for “a few good men.” As a woman, it sparked something in me that felt a little bit like it was time to change the message on my eye black and get in this game. When it comes to spiritual matters, sometimes a woman needs to hear from another woman, not a few good men.

Gender is a sensitive issue in religious conversations. Perhaps that’s why we often choose to isolate single Bible verses and manufacture a context to fit our social and cultural situations. Ephesians 5:22 is another one of those verses, albeit not nearly as popular as John 3:16. It talks about being a submissive wife. If you don’t read the preceding and following verses, you will miss the fact that the whole book of Ephesians is about unity. It’s about working together and how it takes all of us, men and women, to get the job done. 

If you haven’t read it, Ephesians has only six chapters which could be easily read in one sitting. The last chapter in the book of Ephesians talks about putting on armor, and the way I read it, both men and women need to suit up. Those words are there because in this world there is a fierce opponent to unity. Game day is here, men and women. Get your helmet. And maybe a little eye black.

This article was originally posted August 24, 2014 on The Press and Standard's website:

www.colletontoday.com

Did He really say that?

It was morning. I was bathed, but not yet dressed, standing at the ironing board pressing the skirt I was going to wear that day. Our stereo rests on a cedar chest that is positioned right next to the ironing board. Mostly, I like quiet in the mornings, but this particular day I felt the need for a little music. I reached over and pressed the buttons on the stereo to power up the radio. I went back to my ironing, moving the steamy iron back and forth in rhythm to the music.

The next song on the playlist was by Group 1 Crew. It was a familiar song, but you know that moment when after humming along for weeks, you finally pay attention to the lyrics? Well, yeah, this was that moment. Here’s what I finally heard:

So your life feels like it don't make sense
And you think to yourself, 'I'm a good person'
So why do these things keep happening?
Why you gotta deal with them?

You may be knocked down now 
but don't forget what He said, He said

I won't give you more, more than you can take
and I might let you bend, but I won't let you break
and No-o-o-o-o, I'll never ever let you go-o-o-o-o
Don't you forget what He said…

The title of the song is “He Said.” What struck me that morning in the midst of a mundane task of ironing is, did He really say that? Where does it say that God said that?

I know. I’m beginning to sound just like the serpent in Genesis; “Did God really say…?,” aren’t I?

But really. Did God really say that? Which scripture verse are they referring to? I’m asking because I don’t know. Seriously. Where does it say that He won’t give me more than I can take? If ever I needed that verse, it’s now.

He won’t give me more than I can take?

Really? Because I think I passed my limit about a month ago.

He won’t let me break?

Really? Because there are broken pieces of me strewn up and down the Atlantic coast from Florida to Massachusetts. Some of those pieces I’ll never recover.

Now, I have been wrong before but I can’t find that in my Bible. But here’s what I do find…

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.
2 Corinthians 1:8-11

Paul said he was experiencing hardships that were beyond his ability to endure, so much so that he felt that death was imminent.

Life was so hard, it was killing him. He felt like he was dying.

To live like Jesus feels like dying.

I need to tell myself that again. To live like Jesus feels like dying because that’s exactly what Jesus did. And there was a reason for it. Paul talked about that too. He mentioned the reason before he even started talking about life being so hard and feeling death looming.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.
2 Corinthians 1:3-7

Here’s the thing. To say God won’t give me more than I can handle is basically saying, “I can handle it.”

And if I can handle it, then I don’t need God.

But I can’t handle it. My track record proves that. I have a million broken pieces of evidence to corroborate it.

I'm just like the skirt I'm trying to iron. Wrinkled, worn, jostled through a wringer, tumbled around in a hot cylinder, and pressed often with a burning, steamy iron to try and make it look like I'm brand new.

I am not new. I die a little bit every day. Some days more than others. Some days a lot more than others.

It’s then than I need the God of all comforts. As much as I might want them to, and as much as those who love me may try, there is not a human soul on this earth who can put all my broken pieces back together or make the grim reaper stop breathing down my neck. Only the God of all comforts can do that.

He knows what it’s like to be broken. He knows what it’s like to feel death coming.

He's the only one who can make my life feel like I'm wearing a brand new dress for the first time. A dress that's never been subject to sweat and dirt and harsh detergents and without a hint of fading. Even if I have to wear that new dress to a funeral.

So, let me tell myself over and over again: To live like Jesus feels like dying.

That makes me feel more alive than anything in this world.

I delight greatly in the Lord; my soul rejoices in my God. For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. Isaiah 61:10

DRIVE BY SHOT KILLS MINISTER IN HIS OWN FRONT YARD

No, that's not a real news headline. But it could be.

Dear Chief Public Safety Officer:

I’m writing as a concerned citizen of the city. I have absolute respect for your position as Chief of Police and I am grateful for the officers that are responsible for serving and protecting us. I have never been employed in law enforcement and do not even pretend to claim I know much about what it takes to do it day to day, so this is in no way any kind of an attempt to tell you how your job should be carried out. I fully realize I have no authority there. It is, however, the view from my own eyes and personal experience over the last couple of months, and especially in the last couple of weeks that I want to share with you. I know in my own life sometimes a perspective different than my own is often elusive until I’m prompted or invited to consider it by someone who is not in my regular circle of contacts. That’s mostly what I’d like to do; invite you to stand in my shoes for just a bit. There are a couple of dimensions to it, so please hear me out to the end.

Saturday my husband was outside doing yard work. I was inside the house at the front door, just about to step outside too. We both heard several shots of gunfire and subsequently saw a car speeding down the street. My husband was standing close enough to hear the profanity that one of the men in the car was shouting as they sped by. From where I stood, I saw two different neighbors run from their yards toward their houses as soon the shots were fired. My husband headed to our front door too.

A few minutes later there were patrol cars in the street. We stepped back outside to watch and listen. We heard a couple of reports with a few details about what had taken place. In about an hour, the patrol cars were gone and we and the neighbors went back to our yard work. We went back to our lives as usual, but honestly, it was anything but “usual.” It is far from “normal” to pray prayers of thanksgiving that my husband didn’t catch a stray bullet as he raked leaves.

There was a similar incident two weeks ago in broad daylight on a Sunday afternoon. Shots fired followed by a car speeding by our house. Same house fired on. Different getaway car.

Prior to that there were two (maybe three) other incidents of gunfire also just down the street. I can only assume that maybe the same house was somehow involved. Those were all at night. All of that has taken place in just the last month or two. I can only assume that based on experience that until something changes, it will only happen again.

Adding a second dimension to my issue, let’s go back to this past Saturday. Later that day when we finished up our yard work, we sat on our front porch to relax. The peacefulness was interrupted by extremely loud motorcycles racing down the street that runs behind our house. That happens frequently. Partly in jest and yet with a bit of seriousness, my husband and I both wondered out loud where those patrol cars were now. [Not only is that street often used for a raceway, it is also a thoroughfare and short cut for cars and pedestrians. I do not know any statistics for traffic incidents there, I just know there are a lot of fast moving vehicles, people walking, and children playing. In short, dangerous.]. But alas, the roar of those engines went back and forth for a while and eventually faded out as they drove on.

Seldom do we see patrol car presence on our street until after a 9-1-1 call is made. Which, typically, I suppose is normal. I guess most people would be suspicious and paranoid if they saw a patrol car on their street without some kind of incident going on. The place I do see patrol cars on a regular basis is parked a couple of miles away. I know they’re there to deter the speeders where the speed limit is 30. I travel that road at least twice a day, sometimes 4 to 6 times a day. There is seldom ever more than one other car besides mine on that road at any given time. I see a patrol car parked there about once a week. We saw one there Sunday on our way home from church. It occurred to me then, that since they’re there so often that it must be a police priority. It’s their “normal.” If officers are parked and positioned where it’s highly likely that they will see speeders, why not on the street where I live? Police presence there might also change what’s happening on the street where I live.

From where I stand, seeing what I see, it is my opinion, humble as it may be but still very much carefully considered, that it the ideal would be to have the police “normal” be where law enforcement presence would be more effective in stopping shooters and speeders both. Not just speeders.

The third and possibly more personal-yet-public dimension to all of this is my employment. I work for our county economic development office. It is the responsibility of our office to promote our county to prospective businesses and industries. It is my job to represent all the positive things about our county which, truly, is not a hard thing to do. I must also be able to provide accurate information about the negatives and hopefully provide potential solutions and steps we’re actually taking to work on those negatives. Less than a week ago as part of my job responsibilities, I drove someone around giving them a quick tour of our sites, buildings, and assets. They were from another county in the state. They had heard and read all the bad press about the crime in our city and they asked me about it. They were aware that the press mostly favored headlining bad news and optimistically wanted to know my own personal experience with crime in the city. How do I answer that? While, again thankful to God that I have not been a victim of a crime lately, I have seen it firsthand. On the street where I live. Repeatedly.

While these crimes have not been inflicted on me personally, it still affects me personally. It affects how I live. It affects my work. I know we’ll never be able to eliminate crime completely. I understand the nature of evil in this world. I do, however, believe there must be a way to keep it from happening the same way in the same place over and over again. I also believe in the good that’s in this world too and because of that I’m willing to help. I believe something absolutely needs to change. I just have no idea what to do. What, just what, do I do? ?

Sincerely,

Mrs. Does-This-Happen-On-The-Street-Where-YOU-live?