Category: Just thinking (Page 5 of 8)

The Rooster Crowed

March 10, 2021 / Shari Baar / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Remember the story of Peter, when Jesus was on trial? A few hours earlier, Jesus had told Peter that he would betray Him, that he would claim distance and innocence from knowing the man sentenced to death. Peter of course vehemently denied that such a thing could ever happen. Even if everyone else ran away, he wouldn’t. Not Peter. No, Peter would be true and faithful even unto death.

Yet, several hours later Peter did the very thing he vowed he’d never do – betray the man who had even predicted the number of times Peter would deny his Lord.

Not once, not twice, but three times he cursed and swore, saying he never knew the man.

And then the rooster crowed.

Peter was devastated with despair when he realized he had just denied his Lord. He heard the rooster crow and knew he had failed. He was traumatized, thinking perhaps someone else – anyone else – could have said those words against Jesus, but certainly not him.

And yet, he also saw mercy in the eyes of Jesus as the rooster crowed. Peter wept bitterly but he didn’t give up on life itself.

What does the rooster’s crow signify to you?

When I hear the rooster’s crow, I typically look at the sins of people around me. It’s so much easier to point out theirs instead of my own. But the Lord, when I ask, shows me my part in the dance of offenses in which I participate. And when I confess that I too play a part in every problem, I know the forgiveness of Jesus is there immediately.

Someone else may hear the rooster’s crow and feel extreme guilt and shame because of a memory being triggered from someone’s remark – snarky or simply in passing – but it catapults them into a pit of self-loathing and remembrances of past memories and similar failures.

Either way, pointing the finger at others or ourselves can become a severe detriment to receiving the freedom God desires for us.

I am continually amazed at the outrageous mercy of Jesus. The extreme grace he showed to Peter as well as Judas the betrayer. During the Last Supper, Jesus knelt down and washed all the disciples’ feet, including Peter – the one who later denied Jesus – and Judas, who Jesus knew would betray him within the hour. I can hardly fathom the love and generosity of our Lord who would be a servant to those men, knowing exactly what each of them would do within a very short period of time.

Judas, eager to earn 30 pieces of silver, happily walked to the Pharisees to receive his payment – until he saw the consequences of his betrayal – the rooster’s crow for him. Then his guilt suddenly became so deep he saw no way out, and drowning in shame, he hung himself.

Peter, succumbing to peer pressure, spoke words he thought would never come out of his mouth – denying his teacher and friend. And then the rooster crowed. I’m sure both Peter and Judas felt like they were drowning in fear and consumed by shame. One reached out and took hold of restoration and forgiveness; the other chose to condemn himself.

A thousand years before Jesus even walked on the earth, King David wrote about this undeserved forgiveness and freedom from condemnation, because he had experienced it after committing both adultery and murder.

He does not treat us as our sins deserve, nor does He repay us according to our iniquities... As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. Psalm 103:10

Thank God we don’t get what we deserve, otherwise we’d all be dead. There’s always a second chance, a third, a fourth…His mercy never ends.

Next time you listen to that rooster’s accusation, remember – always remember, that’s not the end of the story. The Son is rising and His forgiveness is a free gift to all.

We worship the God who turns tragedy into triumph

Sorrow into singing

Who turns brokenness into beauty

Death into Life.

David Platt

Love, Mom

Carman

February 24, 2021 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

I’ve been binging on some loud music tonight, rather unusual for me, but because one of my favorite singers passed away a few days ago it’s brought lots of good memories from the past.

Carman.

There was no one like him in the music industry back in the 1980s and 90s. His trademark style featured high-drama story songs, his most famous being The Champion. I can still see you girls dancing to Addicted to Jesus, Who’s in the House and many others in the living room. I remember you all loving the high energy songs, and typically skipping over his slower ballads, so I would listen to them while you were in school. Most of his music highlights the battle that rages on between good and evil, darkness and light – with Christ always as the victor.

Carman was born in New Jersey, the youngest of three children in an Italian American family. His dad was a meat cutter and his mom was known as a child prodigy on the accordion. It was in her band that he first started performing as a teenager, filling in one night on the drums when the regular didn’t show. As a teen he started his own band, playing guitar and doing vocals.

While he was playing club circuits in Atlantic City and expanding through New Jersey into Philadelphia, Carman was approached by a Capo from the real-life Sopranos Crime Family to represent his interests and help expand his career. He replied “I’ll decide when I get back from Vegas.” He took off in his 1993 Chevy Vega, hoping to make it big in Las Vegas. While he was there, he attended an Andrae Crouch concert and accepted Christ’s call on his life.

Accordingly, his music took a drastic turn after his new birth. He started writing his soon to become trademark music which was a combination of drama, rock, comedy, satire, acting, singing, dancing and preaching – all woven into what was to become a music genre like no other. His gift of evangelism combined with an almost Vegas-like showman showcased his unpredictable wit with story-dramas that could be described as a full-length feature film in 7 minutes or less.

Carman leaves behind a wife of 4 years, being married for the only time at the age of 61. But he also leaves behind millions of people like me, who have been encouraged in dark times, led to praise in times of joy, and who have been challenged to have no addiction but Jesus himself.

Some of my favorites are:

Revival in the Land

Witch’s Invitation

No Monsters

R.I.O.T.

The Courtroom

Who’s in the House?

Addicted to Jesus

Satan, Bit the Dust

Mission 3:16

I Promise

Two kids albums – Yo Kidz

And, of course, his most famous story-drama ever:

The Champion

Wherever Carman went throughout the world he filled theatres, never charging an admission fee, one of which we attended. He always offered a free invitation to hear his music and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. He trusted that God would provide through the love offerings people gave during the concert. His high energy performances were phenomenal and drew more than 70,000 in several arenas.

I love all his songs but of course my personal favorite will always be The Champion. I never tire of hearing the ten count of defeat that starts out backwards, according to Satan:

Won, He has won, He’s alive forever more, He is risen from the dead, He has won!

I know The Champion Himself greeted Carman as he walked through the doorway from this world into his eternal home.

Love, Mom

Choose Your Hard

January 24, 2021 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

According to those who study the brain, the average adult makes around 35,000 conscious choices every day. From the words we speak to the food we eat, the socks we wear, the number and direction of the steps we take, we’re always making choices. Some of them seem trivial, others more consequential. But as the proverbial snowflakes that continue to pile up hour after hour, every choice matters, and the end result is sometimes what we least expect.

You may have heard this anonymous quote before, but I think it bears repeating:

Obesity is hard. Staying fit is hard.

Choose your hard.

Being in debt is hard. Being financially disciplined is hard.

Choose your hard.

Marriage is hard. Divorce is hard.

Choose your hard.

Communicating is hard. Not communicating is hard.

Choose your hard.

I think everyone who is alive and breathing agrees Life is Hard. Even though our culture tries to assure us that what we buy, wear or eat will make us happy and our lives easy, by now most of us have figured out that stuff won’t ever bring lasting joy.

Life will never be easy. It will always be hard. Even when we choose options which seem to be easy, they never are. Taking the easy way isn’t the easy way.

I wonder if the simple choice of expecting hard things would make life more palatable. Expectations of having an easy and carefree life simply sets us up for disappointment. But if instead we see life as climbing a mountain, following our trusted mountaineering guide, knowing He will guide and walk alongside us, we can expect hard circumstances and thrive, experience joy in the hard. We are never told to navigate life on our own, it’s too much to bear.

Because I appreciate the above Choose your Hard statements, I’ve decided to add a few of my own:

Going to work on time is hard. Being fired is hard.

Choose your hard.

Working on a team is hard. Working alone is hard.

Choose your hard.

Forgiving your enemies is hard. Taking revenge is hard.

Choose your hard.

Trusting Jesus is hard. Trusting yourself is hard.

Choose your hard.

Complaining is hard. Being thankful is hard.

Choose your hard.

Speaking words of kindness is hard. Speaking words of bitterness is hard.

Choose your hard.

Trusting people is hard. Trusting no one is hard.

Choose your hard.

Saying Yes is hard. Saying No is hard.

Choose your hard.

Remember that climbing a mountain metaphor with a trusted mountain guide I mentioned earlier? It’s the only way I can wake up every day, put my feet on the floor and walk forward with joy and expectancy. If I trust in my own judgment, in my own understanding of the limited world I can see around me, I flounder. This world is simply too complex for my little brain to figure out the best words to say or the wise choices to make. I need a mountain guide on the sunny days when I think I can see every perspective correctly, and I need a guide when it’s foggy and I can’t see a foot ahead of me. I am unable to do life on my own. Thankfully Jesus is more than willing to help me, walk beside me, encourage me, forgive me when I confess, lead me to make the better choice – simply for the asking.

As Avery Garns has spoken so well:

God is teaching me that I can be both thankful and frustrated, fractured and faithful.

Maybe this place of in-between, of both/and, is the place where we find true hope and healing.

Taking the easy way isn’t an easy way, it’s simply a non-existent delusion. So choose your hard, choose wisely, trust Jesus and live in expectation of joy in the hard.

Love, Mom

Swimming Upstream

November 24, 2020 / Shari Baar / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Last week we went to Fish Ladder Park in downtown Grand Rapids. It was a rare t-shirt day in November so we packed a picnic lunch and headed out for a homeschooling excursion.

I’ve read about salmon swimming upstream to spawn and the cement ladders people have built for the salmon to get there when dams block the way, but I had no idea there was a ladder so near our home.

God blessed salmon with an extraordinary sense of smell imprinted from their birth, so they are compelled to go back to their location of origin in order to spawn the next generation. But in order to do so they need to swim upstream for at least 150 miles. Yes, they’re fish and made to swim, but swimming upstream? Those persistent little creatures certainly do not take the easy way.

Swimming upstream.

What does that look like in our society today?

When I arrived home from that pleasant afternoon at the fish ladder, I got thinking about how easy it is to go with the flow. It’s easy to join in the clamor, the quick judgments of Fake News or Not So Fake News (who can tell the difference?) the name-calling, the slander, the accusations and all the volatile words flying around in our society. It’s no effort at all to join in the belligerent choir against everyone who disagrees with us. Yet,

Call out culture is exhausting.

What if we spent more time catching people doing good and less time finding fault?

says Scott Sauls

Catching people doing good. Hmmm… that certainly takes more effort than to criticize and complain, and I think it would definitely be considered swimming upstream in our world today. Living is difficult, and by looking at our current situation it may not get easier any time soon. Because of the constant barrage of media and talking heads I know sometimes it’s tough catching people doing good, but to choose between a pandemic of finding fault and a pandemic of catching people doing good, I will choose the latter.

Swimming upstream in our culture also means giving thanks. During this season when a pandemic of ingratitude and yet another lockdown has arrived in Michigan, it’s so easy to concentrate on what we have lost, what we lack, and the frustration that accompanies so many disappointments. There is much heartache, sickness, loneliness and boredom with yet another Zoom meeting, putting on the masks, social distancing…

Yet we still have so much, and we can choose gratitude in the midst of all the newest executive orders accompanied by the slander and indictments all around. Giving thanks has always been the more difficult way – the swimming upstream way – but it’s also the only way to receive joy.

I pulled out my gratitude journal again last week. I had been verbally giving thanks to God as a daily spiritual discipline, but writing out one gift after another with pen in hand seems to be more permanent. I tend to forget what I say with my mouth, but when writing one word after another, my gratitude journal becomes a book of remembrance. Remembering all the good gifts I enjoyed yesterday, last week, the month before, the year before, and even decades before. We can still give thanks for

hot oatmeal in the morning

the aroma of baking squash in the oven

feeling the grief of death

being able to talk with friends on the phone if not in person

a walk down the lane

opening up a green and red Christmas decoration box

listening to a friend’s sadness

singing a song

remembering the promises and love of Jesus that are the same yesterday, today and forever

I wonder if those salmon swimming up stream ever fear that they may not make it to their birthplace in order to spawn? Since I haven’t studied the emotional fears of fish who swim upstream, I can’t say for sure but one thing I imagine is that they keep their eyes on the end goal. To bring new life to yet more salmon.

What is our goal? I don’t know about yours, but my goal is to become more like Jesus, that my character will be formed by His Spirit and that I will grow and produce the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, and self-control. In order to cultivate that fruit I will have to swim upstream and away from the current cultural pandemics of fear, ingratitude, and finding fault.

Swimming upstream is certainly more challenging than floating down with the crowds, but if God gave lowly salmon the desire and ability to go upstream, won’t He also give us the strength to be a light in a dark world by swimming upstream in a world of despair?

Love, Mom

Throwing Clods and the Election

October 29, 2020 / Shari Baar / 4 Comments

Dear Daughters,

One of summer job titles I held as a high schooler was Clod Picker. It was definitely not glamorous, but I earned an income while working the potato harvest in Idaho. The job went like this: A huge potato harvester was brought into the field of ripe potatoes. On top of the harvester was a conveyer belt bringing up stones, dirt clods, sand and potatoes from the land beneath us. My primary job was to discern which were potatoes and which weren’t – tossing out the latter. Difficult as it was, I must have caught on quickly because Mr. Hohnhorst kept me on for the entire harvest.

Oddly enough, as I watch the election process in our country, I am reminded of my summer job decades ago. I am saddened at the judgment and blame that is being tossed from side to side. Stones and dirt clods are thrown around and especially toward those who differ from our opinion.

I have read many op-eds from various viewpoints and I lament that Christians are sounding way too much like the world.

As I remember, Jesus never criticized or condemned Ceaser Augustus, Herod, Pontius Pilate, or any other governing leader of His time. I also don’t recollect anywhere when we as the church are instructed to go out and ridicule, debase, or mock our leaders.

Jesus never disparaged the barbaric Roman government in which He was under authority. He never said,

“Those Romans, they are the most unjust, deplorable people ever. They uphold racism, have no respect for life, taxes are out of control, in fact the old man King Herod even tried to kill me when I was a baby, causing me and my family to become refugees and flee to Egypt.”

Instead, He told his followers to pay their taxes without complaining:

Give Caesar what is Caesar’s and God what is God’s.

The Roman government completely ignored Jesus of Nazareth, except when he was born, and when he was sentenced to death. At his death they were stand offish, washing their hands of the situation or simply looking for a fascinating miracle to be performed in their presence.

Jesus knew He belonged to another kingdom, not of this world. His kingdom was one of self-sacrifice, humility and love, and He Himself was under the authority of His Father the True King. He prayed for wisdom, trusted his Father and went about doing good, obediently as the Son of God.

I wonder what this world would look like if instead of judging, slandering and dissecting every news clip, we prayed for those in authority over us as instructed in the Paul’s letter to Timothy:

I urge you, first of all, to pray for all people. Ask God to help them, intercede on their behalf, and give thanks for them. Pray this way for Kings and all who are in authority so that we can live peaceful and quiet lives, marked by godliness and dignity. This is good and pleases God our Savior…

And also in his letter to Titus:

Be subject to rulers and authorities, obedient, ready to do whatever is good. Slander no one, be peaceable and considerate, showing true humility toward all men.

The Bible is quite surprising and intrusive with its use of the word all. We are instructed to pray for all those who are in positions of authority over us, just as we are to show true humility toward all. Unfortunately, there are no exceptions given for anyone any time.

As Ravi Zacharias has so practically stated:

When you throw mud at someone else, you not only get your hands dirty,

but you lose ground.

We all have different opinions and are quick to malign those who disagree with us, but we must remember that it is the same God and Father who created us all. We are different colors, have different beliefs, different enjoy different food types, have experienced different parents and lifestyles – yet we are all made in the Image of God.

I am reminded of a quote by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr:

The real problem is that through our scientific genius we’ve made of the world a neighborhood, but through our moral and spiritual genius we’ve failed to make of it a brotherhood.

Our social media tells us we are the most connected people in the history of the world. That may be true, but only in the electronic realm. Our hearts are far from each other, far from unity, far from caring about people who differ from our beliefs.

Now as Christians, if we are a part of another Kingdom – the Kingdom of Heaven – shouldn’t we behave differently from the ways of the Kingdom of the United States of America?

I wonder – if we started humbling ourselves, confessing our own sins instead of pointing out those of others, praying for those in authority, caring for the weak – what change would occur in our country?

I’m willing to do my part, will you join me?

Love, Mom

Photosynthesis and Rest

October 20, 2020 / Shari Baar / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

It’s a beautiful time of year to arrive back in the colorful state of Michigan. After being here for almost a month, my eyes never tire of the brilliant yellow, radiant red and every foliage shade in between. Some days the skies are blue, sometimes gray, yet the leaves brighten up even a dreary rainy day of clouds.

Moving is hard work, I don’t care what anyone says. Packing up, making decisions, saying good-bye and driving cross country is a challenge. Some days tempers flare, misunderstandings erupt, and differences of opinion on which stuff is important and which is not. A few days ago someone told me the cardinal rule for her and her husband is to let go of anything said 30 days before and 30 days after a move – which sounds quite sensible at this point.

So now we’re here and still many decisions need to be made, accounts need to be opened, learning where the stores are – still plenty to think about – yet the deadline is over, the boxes wait patiently to be opened and emptied. There is now rest of sorts. Not total and complete rest, but rest in a renewal sort of way. There is family to reconnect with, new friends to make, relationships to deepen, which is in some ways the same, yet different from our Idaho way of life.

A few days ago, I was reading about the miracle of photosynthesis. I confess I don’t remember much from my science classes decades ago, but I do remember the word, and having something to do with leaves changing color in autumn.

Apparently, during the winter there isn’t enough water and light for producing food, so the trees take a rest. As they do, the green chlorophyll disappears from the leaves revealing bits of yellow and orange that have been there all along. We just can’t see those colors in the summer because they are covered up by the green.

I find it fascinating how bright and beautiful colors come only when efficiency shuts down.

Shutting down.

Resting.

Many people in our society view productivity as the only way to show our worth, prove we are capable of earning our way. Demonstrate that we are worth the air we breathe, verify the validity of our existence here on the planet.

Jesus always took time to rest. In fact, thousands of years ago God commanded that we rest one day a week. How gracious. He knows our humanity is not able to keep on going and going and still be able to create, restore and renew.

Some of my most healing times have come when I rest. Simply laying on the couch, chatting with a friend, reading a book, journaling. It is only then, when I slow down, ask God for wisdom and listen to His voice, that I can be revived. It is true that much of my resting time comes uninvited, some days I have no choice, yet my most renewing times have come when my activity comes to a halt.

Unless we take time to sit in silence, ponder the big picture and seek God’s wisdom, we will continue to be busy busy busy, yet feel more ragged, drained and critical.

Remember to rest, let your productivity lessen, and allow the beautiful fall colors to be seen in you.

Love, Mom

Farewell to Idaho

September 13, 2020 / Shari Baar / 14 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Once again I am in the middle of boxes, piles, decisions, and emotions. Boxes of things to be thrown out or given away, piles of memories to be sorted through, decisions of what goes where, and emotions scattered all across the landscape.

After living for almost six years in the beautiful state of Idaho, learning to be caretakers for Grandma and Grandpa and sitting with them as they took their final breaths, we are almost packed up and ready to move back to Michigan. It’s difficult to leave after finding new friends, renewing ties with so many relatives, and experiencing the many challenges connected with the end of the precious lives of my parents.

Even though we have moved over 10 times in our marriage, it never gets easier. I have said hello and good-bye to more friends than I can remember, and every time there are tears of farewell, tears of remorse for what I have lost, a breaking heart for what could have been and wasn’t.

I guess I could have chosen not to love. Not to open my heart to new friends, new experiences, a different culture and landscape. But that alternative doesn’t look at all pleasant to me. Because I dislike the grief of saying that dreaded word good-bye, perhaps I should simply say,

God be with you till we meet again.

As CS Lewis wrote many years ago:

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.

So we leave with heavy hearts, joy-filled hearts, broken hearts and hearts full of anticipation to what God has in store for us in Michigan. It will be lovely to live near all of you our daughters and families, while at the same time looking forward to friends we will come to know and love as well.

I am reminded of the beauty and struggle of faithfulness, highlighted in marriage, as we prepare to move. Though Dad and I have had arguments during the process of this move – differing opinions of what stays what gets thrown away and what comes with us, we fought for love, for understanding and for grace – a battle not easily won, but so worth the fight.

The rugged beauty of Idaho parallels my emotions throughout the years we’ve spent here. There are dry dusty deserts, high beautiful mountains, lush fertile valleys, slow snaking rivers alongside brilliant cascading waterfalls, all typically accompanied by azure blue skies.

There have been times I’ve felt dry and desolate as I watched Grandpa and Grandma fail and eventually breathe their last …

The mountaintop times of celebrating new friendships and then loss as I’ve watched those same friends move away…

Learning to trust God in the valleys, walking through previously uncharted territory when dealing with dementia in Grandma, becoming a mother figure to my own mom…

The simple pleasures of picking grapes, blackberries, apples, plums, cherries and roses all because of Grandpa’s vision of planting a small twig of a tree or a grapevine knowing someday it would yield a bountiful harvest…

Watching the careful pruning Grandpa would always do in his garden, knowing that old wild vines and overgrown trees would never grow beautiful fruit. They had to be trimmed, the old limbs cut off till it sometimes looked as if they were hopelessly dead, yet in just a little while new green shoots and leaves would be flourishing…

So much to learn in this cycle of life, of living, growing and dying – yet, all the while knowing that Jesus is walking ahead of us, a lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path, leading the way he has planned for us to go.

God is good and His will is that we live responsibly today and trust Him for tomorrow. It’s hard, it hurts, but I know it’s the only way that will bring joy. So, to my dear friends I’m leaving in Idaho and have yet to meet in Michigan,

May the road rise to meet you,

May the wind be always at your back

The sun shine warm upon your face

The wind blow soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

(The Old Irish Blessing)

Love, Mom

Sunflowers Among Sagebrush

September 6, 2020 / Shari Baar / 6 Comments

Dear Daughters,

When Dad and I were in Idaho, we drove out to the Camas Prairie, a wilderness where there are lots more cattle than people. There’s probably a lot more acreage than the number of residents as well. Deciding to take a shortcut to our destination, we turned onto a dusty dirt road – of which there are many in Idaho.

We drove for miles and miles seeing mostly sagebrush, lava, unadorned mountains and rocks. It’s a lovely desolate drive and quite diverse from the valley in which we used to live, so we drove bumpity-bump along a slightly graveled road, enjoying the bare dry desert.

Suddenly we came upon the prettiest little sunflowers lining that dry simple road. I was shocked and amazed, wondering how there was enough moisture for them to grow in this parched, deserted country. Seeing these flowers in the midst of an otherwise barren land was such a delight and brought a smile to my face as I wondered how the seeds ever received enough water to flourish on the sides of the road, bringing beauty and color to the Camas Prairie.

As we continued to travel, the sagebrush, dirt and rocks reminded me of the culture we are now living in daily. It has become a culture of outrage, a culture of desolation, everyone wanting their opinion to be heard, harsh answers, brutal judgments of others – a cancel culture. Sadly, many believe,

If you don’t agree with me, I will cancel you as a person, I will cut you out of my life and count you as non-human with no value whatsoever.

Once we start thinking of people in this manner, we are basically throwing rocks and dirt at each other. It’s unpleasant, ugly, dangerous and divisive. Whenever a person is labeled only as part of an ethnic people group, a religious ideology or a certain political leaning, we have certifiably canceled them as a human being.

Every society creates dividing lines among people groups, categorizing them into hierarchies of importance according to the powers that be. We have all created caste systems in our own minds which are often acted out toward those we deem worthy or not worthy of our acceptance.

Jesus had 12 disciples and there was incredible diversity within that group of men. Four were blue collar workers (fishermen), one was a tax collector working for the Roman government (think IRS), another was a Zealot – usually from a political party desiring to get out from under Roman rule. Diverse, yet learning to become united under Jesus, they grew in unity. Yes they had their disagreements, some thinking they were better than the others – they were typical humans. But Jesus taught them how to love each other and those who were not like them in belief or ethnicity – the weak, the sick, the blind, the sex-workers and the forgotten. Anyone who was human and came near Jesus was treated with dignity.

In his book, A Gentle Answer, Scott Sauls reminds us that Jesus loved us at our worst and if we are followers of Jesus, we are commanded to love others at their worst. He says,

Jesus has been gentle toward us, so we have good reason to become gentle toward others, including those who treat us like enemies. “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of Your Father who is in heaven.” Matt. 5:43-45. Because Jesus has covered all of our offenses, we can be among the least offensive and the least offended people in the world. This is the way of the gentle answer.

Having a gentle answer has nothing to do with being weak. Weakness is often shown in destruction and trauma to other people’s bodies and physical property. Weakness is using intimidation and wrath, harming others with words, belittling someone who disagrees with you. Anyone can let anger overtake their emotions and act out in violence, destroying with rage anything in their path. It’s easy to criticize and tear down.

Speaking a gentle answer, especially toward those you disagree with, takes an incredible amount of restraint, a strength that requires the deepest and most courageous kind of faith. A faith that ultimately believes in the justice of God, that He will work good out of evil – but in His time, not ours.

Seeing those delicate beautiful sunflowers among all the dry and brittle sage brush is a reminder of what kind words and a gentle answer look like in our culture of shouting opinions and judgments on others. We have no power to change anyone’s opinion or ideology, especially not by belittling and mocking but we do have power to change ourselves and give a respectful and kind response to whatever words come our way.

Lord, give us strength to give a gentle answer and become sunflowers in a desert wasteland.

Love, Mom

A Grateful Life

May 20, 2020 / Shari Baar / 13 Comments

Dear Daughters,

After 94 years Grandpa’s chest is still, his heart no longer beating. He was sleeping peacefully in his favorite chair, and then he was gone. The struggle is over, he has met Jesus face to face.

During the previous few days the house has been full of people saying good-bye, recalling stories from the past, memories of his time shared with them, shouldering the pain and sadness of dying with us. From laughter to tears, to hugs and handshakes, the days have been rich, beautiful, difficult and sad.

Ginger, the Hospice nurse came and saw some of our family here to visit Grandpa and commented to him,

You are a lucky man to have so many people around you.

Immediately he said,

I don’t believe in luck.

I am blessed.

He is blessed, we are blessed – by his generosity, kindness and humor. Every day the nurse would come in and ask, how are you doing, Lou? And every day, as long as he could speak he would say, I’m great.

This evening it is silent, painfully quiet. No more breathing treatments, the oxygen machine is still. Willow, Grandpa’s faithful dog sits quietly beside his friend’s chair wondering what has happened.

A few weeks ago I gave Grandpa a bell he could ring if he needed me. The bell had a beautiful tone, deep and rich. The first few times he rang it I felt like coming in the room standing straight and tall saying – just like Lurch from The Addams Family – You rrrang? But I didn’t, I just asked what he needed.

He never asked for much, help to get up, a glass of water, reminding me he was ready to go to sleep.

A few mornings ago he woke up agitated, wanting to get out of his bed, yet knowing he was unable to walk anymore we couldn’t let him. So I started singing hymns to him. Because of his lifetime of singing plus the tradition of singing a hymn every night after dinner with Dad and I, he knew many of them by memory and started whispering a few of the words as I sang.

Amazing Grace

In the Garden

The Old Rugged Cross

Great Is Thy Faithfulness…

He relaxed, laid back to rest and grew calm. My mouth got dry but I kept on singing.

Yesterday morning he was agitated again so Aunt Rhonda and I decided to sing You Are My Sunshine. Surprisingly, we remembered all three verses so sang with gusto, being quite pleased with ourselves. But as we were nearing the end of the song Grandpa remarked with a wave of his hand, OK, that’s enough sunshine. What works one day doesn’t always work the next…

Thank you. Those precious words were the most consistent and common words I heard from Grandpa. He was so pleased to be able to die in his own home, surrounded by those he loved and was grateful for all the care he received. Jolene, Judy, Merilee, Ione, Dotty – all friends and helpers faithfully coming to help for days, months, some for years, have become part of our family.

From the moment we are born, we are in the process of dying. We don’t often think about life that way but it’s true. Some of us live a full life, others don’t. But we all can make the choice to live our one life well, because even though our bodies are wasting away, our Creator Jesus renews our spirits day by day.

Love, Mom

The First Time

May 14, 2020 / Shari Baar / 22 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Tonight, for the first time ever, Grandpa needed help to go to bed. Just a month ago he was able to do the bedtime routine on his own but now he needs an oxygen machine to take his every breath. Dad and I follow him down the hall, Dad pushing R2D2 and me carrying the tubing. In the short time of a single day he forgot what to do next in getting ready for sleep. The familiar words

What do I do next?

What do I do now?

What do I do?

echo back in my mind as Grandma would say the same phrases toward the end of her time here on earth. The world seems to be a scary and confusing place right now for Grandpa, his words come out in a whisper when I ask him if he needs anything else. His legs give out, he falls, we help him up – oh how difficult life is for him whose eyes have seen so many sunsets.

My mind goes back to my young, strong dad – working in the barn, the fields, in his workshop – always working with his hands. Then I think about my decades older dad when he still worked in his shop, pulled some weeds, drove his Gator around, picked apples, fell in the garden and simply rolled over and stood up again.

Today Pastor Gary and Arie came to serve communion to Grandpa, Dad, Aunt Rhonda and I. Gary is so thoughtful, remembering to bring a coffee cup with an attached lid containing grape juice since Grandpa’s tremors prevent him from using a small cup.

I’m not sure I’ve ever celebrated a more precious communion. Here we were sitting with our Pastor, all of us encouraging, suffering and grieving with Grandpa who is so ready to be with his Savior.

Love, faithfulness, friendship, family and communion – especially near the end of life, there are no greater gifts given than these.

Everything is different now. After I put him to bed last night I went back to my own bedroom and wept. Tears of weariness, tears of sadness, of seeing a life slowing down and coming toward a close.

Hospice is a beautiful group of friends, of people who love and care for Grandpa as much as we do. They walk through the hard, sad times alongside us with joy. I am grateful.

We are meant for eternity, and for eternity we shall live. It’s just that the door to our heavenly place is uncharted territory and difficult to walk through. But walk we will, and we trust Jesus to bring us all safely home in His time.

Love, Mom

Category: Just thinking (Page 5 of 8)

The Rooster Crowed

Carman

Choose Your Hard

Swimming Upstream

Throwing Clods and the Election

Photosynthesis and Rest

Farewell to Idaho

Sunflowers Among Sagebrush

A Grateful Life

The First Time

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