Powerful Words, Powerful Message

By Janet Morris Grimes –

My heart beat faster with each step. I pulled the door open, bracing myself for our first meeting.

I heard his unfamiliar voice before I saw him. Different than I expected, but I wasn’t sure exactly how. He rested in a chair, seated in an office that held his name on the door. Impressive.

I leaned inside as he rose from the fabric-covered chair.

“Hi. I’m Janet.”

He smiled. “You look just like your picture.”

“Is that good or bad?” I asked. Without waiting for an answer, nor giving him the option, I hugged him. I’d waited for this moment for a long time.

He was a bit shorter than I expected, but maybe that came from seeing him through my little-girl imagination, rather than through the eyes of an the adult I had become. His words were strong and calculated, expected from a lifelong preacher. Thick, silver hair topped his tanned face. His smile was jovial, inviting me to share in his happiness.

We stepped in unison up the steps to the auditorium and down the center aisle. He placed his Bible on the lectern for his upcoming lesson. I waited in anticipation on the pew, about four rows back. This man, once my father’s best friend, spoke on the book of Hebrews.

I half-listened, wondering what it would be like if my own father were standing there, using his own version of the authoritative preacher-voice.

They’d been buddies in high school before the relationship grew into a true brotherhood while roommates at David Lipscomb College. They tackled the world of the unknown together, each of them pretending to have more answers than the other. They kept each other from studying, sharing the blame for their poor grades. They found the girls of their dreams, and then married them.

A friendship that should have lasted forever. I guess in a way, it did.

My father was killed tragically in a car accident when I was just a baby, so I had no memories of him. This led me, as an adult, to contact his best friend, Rod, with one simple request.

“Please tell me about my father?”

He shared as many memories as he could with me, describing a funny, brilliant-when-he-wanted-to-be kind of guy. A practical joker. Stubborn, but in a good way. The kind of person that thankfully matched my fairy-tale version of him.

Rod provided hand-written letters Daddy had sent while Rod served as a missionary in Africa. He shared photos, expanding on the stories that surrounded them with a faraway look in his eyes. Did he travel back to those hallways and locker rooms at Salem High School? I so wanted to travel there with him; to peer around the corner and see for myself.

Our first face-to-face meeting came to an end much too soon. But as he was leaving, he offered these words:

“Janet, your father would be so proud of you.”

And the little girl in me melted. In some ways, I think that is all I ever wanted to hear. I needed to hear my father’s voice, but Rod’s served as a great substitute.

I left there wondering how many more people need to hear that message; but not so much about their own fathers. But from God.

Don’t we all wonder what He would think of us? As we strive to make Him proud, wouldn’t it be great to hear those same words, in His voice?

If that isn’t possible, shouldn’t we serve as the role of the best friend, and tell our kids and those around us as much as we can about God. About how He moves and how He loves?

I went directly home and said to my daughter, “Your Father, in Heaven, is so very proud of you.”

I suspect that is something she has waited her entire life to hear.

Kairos Moments

By Janet Morris Grimes –

Sometimes, you come across a moment so powerful, so potentially life-changing, you have no choice but to let it simmer; taking time to replay it in your mind, letting it sink in to absorb as much as the memory as possible.

It is as if you are aware of some sort of predestination to be at that place, at that precise time, with that particular group of people. Moments such as these are known as “Kairos” moments, defined as the “right time” for something to happen. These moments make it clear that we are a part of something much bigger than ourselves. We are following a path carved out before us, and our role is to simply follow it.

And I am grateful, further strengthened by the fact that what happens with each day of my life beyond my control. All I can do is believe and reach higher; taking advantage of the opportunities God sends my way, rather than lamenting those opportunities that he does not.

This is the way God intended it to be. He wants us to let Him do the work while we rest in the “shadow of His wings.” He wants us to think bigger, take more chances, and be bold enough to go further than we ever dreamed possible.

He is never surprised by our predicaments, overwhelmed by our circumstances, nor worried about our future. He is the God of “what if?” and “why not?” With God, there are no impossibilities. No accidents. Nothing is out of reach.

Understanding that God is in control in our lives is the key to finding peace and rest. Follow His path, embracing each opportunity with trust and dependence on Him, and you might just experience something so powerful, you have no choice but to sit and let it simmer: the ‘Kairos’ moments of the abundant life that He promised.

PRAYER: Dear Father, thank You for caring more about our future than even we do. Thank You for doing what is best for us eternally, even when we can’t see past our present circumstances. Make our paths straight before us, and give us the strength to follow. Reveal Your power in ways only we can understand. And teach us to enjoy your ‘Kairos’ moments.

“Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. At that time, each will receive their praise from God” (I Corinthians 4:5 NIV).

Church vs. Jesus

By Janet Morris Grimes –

Church—as much a part of my life as brushing my teeth. There are few Sundays that I don’t recall being there. Walking in late, perhaps, but fulfilling my spot on the second pew, with pride.

Three years ago, a move to a state 10 hours away forced me to find a new church. But soon, I settled in to the front row, ready to worship on a weekly basis.

Attending church is a habit that can be viewed many different ways. Many people attend for the social interaction, the family atmosphere, the children’s or youth programs, the worship experience, or the motivational speaking.

I treasure each of those things.

It’s the magnetic pull of a face-to-face encounter with Jesus that makes me walk through those doors. I need to kneel at the cross, as if Jesus and I were the only two people in the room. I need to be held accountable for my actions, to let go of my doubts, to deepen my relationship. I need to be whacked upside the head with a different viewpoint, to change my way of thinking and in the process, continue to change my life.

I need my life to look much different, because I’ve centered it on Jesus, than it would on its own.

That is why I attend church.

But at times, I fear church, as an institution, becomes more focused on itself than on Jesus. With small groups, committees, events, programs, budgets, worship preferences, elder appointments, class schedules, potluck luncheons, food drives, and membership directories, it can be difficult to walk in the door and find Jesus.

And I should be good at this worship thing by now. Imagine what it might feel like to a newcomer, a visitor, the one who seeks God for the first time.

Church should always be about Jesus. Without His presence, the church can become a club for really nice people.

I know enough now to seek Jesus on a daily basis. I cannot depend on the church to do that for me. It is a personal relationship, seven days a week.

But never let it be said that church gets in the way of finding Jesus. I don’t want to argue worship preferences. I want to find Jesus. I don’t want to lament the change to a new service time. I want to find Jesus. I don’t want to criticize the pastor, I want to find Jesus.

It is only once we kneel together as one at the foot of the cross, that we find Jesus. Only then, can we go into the world and be the church to them.

The church is the body of Christ—a group of people learning to be more like Jesus. The church is not a building, an institution, or a social activity. Attending is not a ritual that we choose because our grandmothers did it for 90 years before us. And it’s not a club for really nice people.

But never let it be said that church gets in the way of finding Jesus. Because when this happens, it may be time to find a new church.

Preparing a Place

By Janet Morris Grimes –

I love parties, but I knew this party was a bad idea from the start. Still, that fact did not keep the idea from snowballing into an even bigger bad idea.

Most people cautioned that there were too many variables to hold an outdoor party at the end of December. No matter what, the weather would be a factor even if it chose to cooperate. The amount of work this event would require was daunting. Many friends offered their homes.

But I had a vision of how I wanted this 18th Surprise Birthday Party for my daughter to be. The vision included a covered picnic pavilion, the wind somehow blocked off with plastic walls, a fire roaring in the fireplace, friends and family sipping on hot chocolate while huddled around a heater if necessary and white Christmas lights stretched across the ceiling, creating an unforgettable Winter Wonderland. A unique night that would be a complete surprise.

Some of my friends warned, “This has never been done before.” But that only fed my desire to see my plan to fruition.

It truly took a village to pull the party off, with setup beginning several days in advance. Our entire family, and some very special friends, worked in shifts wrapping the pavilion from pole to pole in thick plastic sheets. By the time the party started, there was a black light room curtained off with balloons, glow in the dark notes, and decorations. We found creative ways to keep the food warm, including the stubborn liquid chocolate of the chocolate fountain that preferred to clump together at the first sight of nightfall. With a photo booth in place for funny photos, the party blowers and confetti ready to celebrate, and fun music forming the soundtrack, we awaited my daughter’s arrival.

I snapped a few pictures between the “set-up” and “party” and could not help but think that preparing a special place for someone required a great deal of love. If we put so much effort into creating a place to be used for a few hours, what must Heaven be like after God has been working on the preparations for so long?

Eternity will be perfect for me—I have no doubt. The work required comes from a direct outpouring of God’s love for me and I can almost see the twinkle in His eye as He anxiously prepares for my arrival. I think our mansions will be unique to each one of us, because He created us so uniquely.

And the best part is that in Heaven, the party continues on forever!

Priceless Treasures?

By Janet Morris Grimes –

Truck rented. Check. Everything that fits, and a few things that clearly do not, crammed into boxes. Check. Boxes labeled. Check. Utilities disconnected. Check. Cable box returned. Check. Mail forwarded. Check. Final walk through scheduled. Check. Keys turned in. Check. Papers signed. Check.

And, 350 miles down I75, we repeat the same process, in reverse. Papers signed. Keys accepted. Walk through completed. Mailbox key tested. Cable box picked up. Utilities turned on. Truck unloaded. Truck returned. Check.

And we are left with what seems like a million boxes, stacked against every available wall, with‘too much stuff’ waiting to see if it finds a new home, or gets sacrificed to the eternal dumpster.

As Ty Pennington would say, “Welcome home, Grimes Family. Welcome home.” But instead of running to see what treasures lie in wait in our perfect home, we are exhausted, with countless hours of work ahead of us.

This is the second time we’ve done this during the past 3 years, and last time, downsizing from a 3000 square foot home to a tiny apartment was quite humbling. It brought us face to face with the fact that our stuff owned us, instead of it being the other way around. As with our previous move, we found ourselves doing everything our ‘stuff’ told us to do.

Life, mixed with a tumbling economy, has changed our perspective on the meaning of the word ‘home,’ and all that can be found inside it. Just a few short years ago, I treasured our house, especially during holidays when it was decorated, and filled with family and friends.

However, ‘home’ is now wherever our family can gather to create memories. For the moment, it may be a tiny apartment. As I survey the boxes, I can say that only a few of them held what I would refer to as “treasures;” mostly family photos and hand-written letters from the kids when they were younger.

Perhaps God knew that a family that moves together creates some fun and crazy memories together. 2012 begins with us sitting on the floor, eating pizza out of the box, and entertaining one another because of the lack of internet access, and wondering if the dumpster might hold virtually all of our boxed up ‘treasures.’ Wouldn’t it be easier to simply start over?

Thankfully, this world is not our home.

And with each move, we prove that more and more.

PRAYER: Father God, thank You for creating a place for us. Please guide us as we find a place to worship, friends that draw us closer to You. We trust You with our future, no matter how unsettled we feel at this moment.

“But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves to not break in and steal” (Matthew 6:20 NIV).

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