In His Right Mind

By Marty Norman –

Storytelling is a gift. Some people have it and some don’t. I don’t, though I’ve wished for it since I was a child. I just never felt equipped.

That’s why, when invited to join a Bible Study on storytelling, my first reaction was a resounding, “Are you kidding?  Not me – it’s not my cup of tea.”

“Why? It’s right up your alley”, my friend argued, pressing her point again and again. Finally she wore me down. Relenting, I joined the group to please her. My plan: attend a couple of sessions then fade away.

Scripture tells us that we are to be hearers of the word:  “blessed are they who hear the word and obey”, Luke 11:28 NIV; and “faith comes from hearing the message.” Romans 10:17 NIV.  Storytelling is based on these scriptures. The purpose: learn the age-old tradition of storytelling practiced by the patriarchs and early civilizations from the American Indian to the Himalayan people groups. Based on biblical tradition, the good news of the gospel is told through oral tradition, different from our modern techniques of video, reading and visual aids.

Was I ever surprised?

The first class was titillating, exciting and challenging. Definitely my cup of tea.  I sat mesmerized as Sharon, the leader, told the story of Jesus and the demoniac. The story was more than familiar; I’d read it numerous times but hearing it told in this manner brought a whole new perspective.

I visualized the demoniac cutting himself with stones and throwing fits. I could see the 2000 pigs as they raced to the lake and drowned. I joined the herdsmen as they stood amazed at what they saw.

The turning point hit me hard. When the townspeople saw the demoniac “dressed and in his right mind, sitting at the feet of Jesus”, they became afraid. I understood the aversion of many to the truth of the gospel. When faced with the might and power of this man Jesus, people are afraid. They wonder what kind of man this is that heals a demoniac from evil spirits. They shy away from one who commands the wind and waves to cease. They see the demoniac’s transformation and understand that being in a right mind is all about being in a right relationship with God.

Somewhere deep inside, the question lurks for the hearer. If the demoniac changed, even though in a good way, I, too, might have to change. And I don’t want to. No one does. We all like our habits, even if they are harmful to us or to others. We are comfortable in our ways, only willing to change when we are desperate. The demoniac was desperate. He was not only open but willing.

In the mystery that is God, the story of the demoniac, when told without visual aid, reached deep into the hearts of the hearers in a profound way. Perhaps that’s why Jesus told so many stories and parables because when digested, they speak to the heart of the hearer and bring about changed lives.

This is such a story. The demoniac experienced the healing, power, love and mercy of a mighty God. As a result, he ended up in his right mind in a right relationship with the Father, through the power of Jesus Christ. In the end, isn’t that what we all really want.

If that’s not a perfect cup of tea – I don’t know what is.

In His Right Mind

By Marty Norman –

Story telling is a gift. Some people have it and some don’t. I don’t, though secretly I’ve wished for it since I was a child. I just never felt equipped.

That’s why, when invited to join a Bible Study on Story Telling, my first reaction was a resounding, “Are you kidding. No. Not me – it’s not my cup of tea.”

“Why, it’s right up your alley”, my friend argued pressing her point again and again. Finally she just wore me out. Relenting, I joined the group to please her. My plan: attend a couple of sessions then fade away.

Scripture tells us that “blessed are they who hear the word and obey”, Luke 11:28 NIV . It also tells us that “faith comes from hearing the message.” Romans 10:17 NIV.  Story telling is based on that premise. The purpose: to learn the age-old tradition of story telling practiced by the patriarchs and early civilizations from the American Indian to the Himalayan people groups. Based on biblical tradition, the good news of the gospel is told through oral tradition, so different from our modern way of video, reading and visual aids.

Was I ever surprised?

The first class was titillating, exciting, challenging and even more so, definitely my cup of tea. Transfixed I sat mesmerized as Sharon, the leader, told the Story of Jesus and The Demoniac. The story was more than familiar; I’d read it numerous times but hearing it told in this manner brought a whole new perspective.

Literally, I visualized the demoniac cutting himself with stones and throwing fits. I could see the 2000 pigs as they raced to the lake and drowned. I joined the herdsmen as they stood amazed at what they saw.

The turning point hit me hard. When the townspeople saw the demoniac “dressed and in his right mind, sitting at the feet of Jesus” they became afraid. Suddenly I understood the aversion of many to the truth of the gospel. When faced with the might and power of this man Jesus people are afraid. They wonder what kind of man this is that heals a demoniac from evil spirits. They shy away from one who commands the wind and waves to cease. They see the demoniac’s transformation and understand that being in a right mind is all about being in a right relationship with God.

Somewhere deep inside, the question lurks for the hearer. If the demoniac changed, even though in a good way, he might also have to change and he doesn’t want to. As a people we like our habits, even if they are harmful to us or to others. We are all just comfortable in our ways. We are only willing to change when we are desperate. The demoniac was desperate. He was not only open but willing.

In a mysterious way the story of the demoniac, when told without visual aid, reached deep into the hearts of the hearers in a profound way. Perhaps that’s why Jesus told so many stories and parables perhaps because they speak to the heart and bring about changed lives.

This is such a story. The demoniac experienced healing, power, love and mercy. As a result, he ends up in his right mind in a right relationship with the Father, through the power of Jesus Christ.

If that’s not a perfect cup of tea – I don’t know what is.

Stuck in the Tree of Security and Comfort

By Marty Norman –

We all like our comforts, our secure home where we live unchallenged, unyielding and unmoved. We love the place where we park ourselves at night, our trees and gardens, the block where we live. We are safe and secure; it is our home. Often it takes nothing short of an earthquake to dislodge us from this covering of safety.

That’s why mission trips are so hard.  Talk about getting out of your comfort zone. In a matter of hours one is transported from the safety of home, that cool, green shade of comfort that provides a canopy of safety and love to a different culture that consists of strange foods, habits, eating and sleeping arrangements, customs and languages. In other words, we are moved from our tree of comfort to a new tree from which we launch our day.

Sometimes it’s too much for even the seasoned missioner, not to mention the all-weather traveler, to contemplate

Summer is definitely the time for mission trips. Church groups, non-profits, individuals, youth groups, medical teams, college students, and others are all eager and willing to give of their time and expertise in order to experience the unknown in a far off land.

I, myself, have been on four mission trips.  Each one is unique, different, structured specifically by a loving God for a specific purpose and goal.  None of my mission trips have even halfway resembled another.  From the dark of a Tanzanian Africa, to the green hills of Ireland, from the seashores of Belize, to the river banks of Lake Malawi, I have answered the call when it came in order to do the will of He who calls out his people.

I remember my first mission trip in 1996. With trepidation I flew across the ocean to spend three weeks in Northern Malawi, East Africa. A life changing experience I was transformed by the people of that region known as the warm heart of Africa. A kinder, gentler people cannot be found on earth.  It was there I was introduced to the baobab tree a metaphorical symbol of the heart of these people. Thick, strong, large, with a canopy of leaves for comfort and exposed roots for strength it was a metaphor for the people and their tiny country. I knew immediately I was out of my element, transplanted into a place I’d never seen before. No security or comfort there, but somehow it seemed to fit.

In 2007 I went to Belize.  I remember watching the view out the window as the plane landed at the small airport in Belize City.  Most of the trees were green, but short. But ever so often a tall tree would burst forth from a clump of smaller trees. The Lord spoke to my heart.  Look for the tall trees, “ he said.  “You will encounter many people here in Belize – people of strong faith. They will stand head and shoulders above the rest.”  And indeed I did and they did.

Last summer I traveled to Tanzania, 27 hours, six stops one way, for a week long teaching mission in the heart of Tanzania. The travel alone was a challenge, but being allowed only 15 pounds of luggage almost put me over the top.  Somehow I managed without an ounce to spare. Traveling through the haunting landscape that is Tanzania, the green grass blowing in the wind, I marveled at the hundred year old trees standing guard at the entrance to villages. I felt protected. The first day I just walked around the taking photos of the amazing trees. Here a fire tree, there a baobab. Again out of my comfort zone, but comforted by their haunting beauty and the safety they represented. I was reminded that they are not unlike the trees of my own backyard.

Everywhere we went in Tanzania we met missionaries: from Dallas, Texas to Atlanta, Georgia, from the University of New Mexico, to San Francisco, people who left hearth and home to minister to God’s people in need.  All of a sudden I was surrounded by a garden of flowers, trees of every hue and color, blooming in an unknown land, spreading their aroma and fragrance of the gospel to all with whom they came in contact.

I remember thinking to myself, ‘How wonderful is that?  People taking time out of their busy lives to use their vacation time to give to others.  Only in America would you see this so widely practiced. Only in response to the call of God would you meet such dedicated souls.”  It just made me proud.

I am not going on a mission trip this year, but my good friend Debbie is.

I have just returned from helping her pack for a three week mission to New Zealand and Australia. Part teaching and part on-site ministry she must prepare for many venues. She has no idea what kind of trees she will encounter.

Her trip is complicated. Last week she fell and broke her wrist. She had to have surgery to put a steel plate in her arm.  She is not in a cast but has a sling and a brace.  But is she canceling?  Not on your life. Security or not, she is going.

I am astounded at her commitment and courage. This mission has been planned for months, so she would not hear of not going.  Clearly she has a call. And when one hears a call, how do you say no to the Lord. You don’t. Unless the Lord releases, you go.

So she is going. Limited not in spirit, but only in the use of her left arm she gives thanks that it is not her dominant arm.  Sternly instructed to not drive, lift anything heavy or carry anything of any weight, she reasons she is primed for the trip. All of her focus will be on the experience abroad rather than the things left undone at home, for she can’t do them anyway. She claims she will just move with the flow. Pretty ambitious by my way of thinking but she will not be dissuaded; she is determined to go. Who am I to argue with her or with God?

So help her I do. Even I can see that Satan is erecting all sorts of barriers in her way.  Clearly trying to discourage her, he continually puts up road blocks along the way to dishearten.  The good news:  he is not winning.

So that’s where I come in.

My job, pick out, fold and pack her clothes for three weeks.  We spent the morning going through her closet, coordinating, eliminating, refining, refreshing, figuring out, weighing, evaluating what would and would not work with a splint and her limitations.   After a few hours we had it all worked out. Now all I need to do is go to the grocery store and buy Ziploc bags to keep her clothes divided so she can better find what she needs.

I can’t wait for her to get back to the States to tell me all that the Lord has done. I know that she will describe her experiences in detail, the trees she encounters, the new things she learns. Surely she will have one large tale to tell.

Out of her comfort zone – you bet. But sturdy and strong she stands. Debbie is one of the tall trees of Belize. Her strength and courage stand heads above the rest. The winds may come and the winds may blow, but her roots are deep. Her tree stands tall. And after this month she will have more trees to add to her mission experience.  I can’t wait to see the acorns she brings back to plant. But even more, I can’t wait to see the oak trees that grow from her obedience.

How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!  (Romans  10:15 NIV)

 

Stop the World I Want To Get Off

By Marty Norman –

“Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

Sometimes I think the world is spinning so fast that at any moment I am in danger of being slung into outer space as centrifugal force lets go of the physical properties that keep me hanging on for dear life. At least that’s how the world hits me most of the time especially in May and December.

As I sit down to write this article I am reminded that God continually tells us to be still and know that He is God.  It’s in the quiet moments, in the silence that we hear the whisper of God. If we drive through life racing down the street, the radio blaring, we are more than likely going to miss his wisdom and guidance as he whispers in our ear.

The story “The Brick” is a great example of this principal. Recently sent to me by a friend I decided that I would print it, for I couldn’t have said it better myself. I think in this short reading you will definitely get the point. The question is, is this you? It certainly is me a lot of the time.

The Brick, Author Unknown 

A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. 

As his car passed no children appeared; instead, a brick smashed into the Jag’s side door. He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown.

The angry driver jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car, shouting, “What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing?  That’s a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?”

The young boy was apologetic. “Please, mister, please. I’m sorry but I didn’t know what else to do. I threw the brick because no one else would stop.”

With tears dripping down his face, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car. “It’s my brother,” he said. “He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair, and I can’t lift him up.”

Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, “Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He’s hurt and he’s too heavy for me.”

Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts.  A quick look told him everything was going to be okay.

“Thank you and may God bless you,” the grateful child told the stranger.

Too shook for words, the man watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home. It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. The damage was noticeable but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message:

Don’t go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention.

What a great message and reminder. For God is in the business of whispering in our souls and speaking to our hearts. Sometimes when we don’t have time to listen, he has to throw a brick at us to get our attention. What’s important is that it’s our choice to listen or not to listen.

I think of the words that my grandmother used to say to me when I got so busy I wouldn’t slow down. “My dear, surely you know that God is always trying to get our attention. First he whispers in our ear, then he taps on our shoulder. If we don’t slow down he throws a brick at us. If this doesn’t work he hits us up beside the head.”

I’ve been in all four places. And I know you have too. Wouldn’t it be easier to stop and listen the first time than to have to go through all that pain and worry.

The moral of the story: Stop, look and listen. If we would but slow our cars down, better yet if we would park them on the side of the road, we might learn how to look at the world through God’s eyes. If we stay extremely still, we’ll be able to listen with God’s ears.

If you don’t, don’t be surprised when a brick comes out of nowhere and hits you on your head or your car on the side as you speed through life.

 

The Yellow Brick Road

By Marty Norman –

One of my favorite movies as a child was The Wizard of Oz.  Who couldn’t love Dorothy and Toto in Kansas?  She was every little girl back in the 1950s, Schwinn bike with basket, dog in tow. That could have been me, riding down that dirt road, pigtails blowing in the breeze, dog, Mike, not in tow but at foot.

But if you take a deeper look, the movie message was in the size, type and visuals of the different roads traveled. The roads of Oz and Kansas tell us a lot about life in general.

The first road in the movie is the dirt road in Kansas. With a storm a’brewing, we see Dorothy racing against time to beat the tornado to Auntie Em’s farm. But the dirt road does not serve her well. The message: being on the dirt road leads to destruction.

The next time we see Dorothy she is waking from being knocked out by the storm. Surrounded by flowers in bright colors, she knows intuitively that this is the way to go. And if she isn’t quick on the uptake, the yellow bricks offer a directional sign. The message: if you follow the yellow brick road you will come to the magical city, meet a wizard and get your wish.

The rest of the movie depicts Dorothy’s journey down this road. We follow who she meets, what happens when she gets off the road, and who befriends and attacks her along the way. The message: if only we would take the right road and stay on its path, everything will be ok.

Contrast that with the biblical message about roads. “Enter through the narrow gate,” Matthew tells us, “For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life and only a few find it” (Matthew 7:14 NIV). Contrary to the yellow brick road, we discover that the wide road leads to destruction but the narrow road leads to life.

Recently I kept my two grandsons overnight, ages two and four. Per his routine, Strother, the four-year-old, likes to watch cartoons when he wakes. I try to avoid this as often as possible, but on this particular morning it was 6:00 a.m. and I just couldn’t seem to get my juices going. So I complied.

“Can we watch Sponge Bob?” he inquired, enthusiasm highlighting every word.

“How bad can that be,” I think to myself? “Sponge Bob” is pretty innocuous, right? It should be ok and I can get in a couple more minutes of shuteye.”

I was so wrong.

This particular episode was about bullying. Out of my sleepy stupor, I hear one of the main characters, I didn’t catch his name so I’ll call him Bubba, begin to take advantage of his size and bully the other kids. We started in the middle of the episode, at the point where Sponge Bob is telling his friends, “I can’t go to school today.  Bubba has said he is going to kick my butt.”

Now that got my attention. My eyes popped open and I was all ears. Before I could roll over he had said it four more times. By the time I sat up, his friends were saying “kick my butt,” Bubba was saying “kick his butt,” and the teacher was saying “kick your butt.” I should have turned the TV off, but I was mesmerized, stuck in a moment of time. I decided to count the number of times I heard the phrase “kick butt.” Are you ready?  Sixteen times in ten minutes. Yes, that is 16!

I was, am, and will continue to be horrified. No amount of spin, justification, excuses, or explanation will ever convince me that any child, much less a four-year-old, should be exposed to this kind of trash.

But the clincher came at the end. Bubba luckily had an epiphany, came to his senses and made friends with Sponge Bob. All was well. But in the last scene, the teacher, rather than making Bubba accountable and responsible for his actions, explained to Sponge Bob, “Don’t be mad a Bubba. It’s really not his fault. He is merely a victim of a society that is going down the wrong road.”

That’s right. Those were her exact words, “Victim of a society that is going down the wrong road.” What!

Now I don’t know about you. But in my book and according to the Scriptures I read, we are all responsible and accountable for our own actions and responses, regardless of the circumstances. Instead of passing on bad behavior, we are told to forgive and turn the other cheek. Clearly Bubba, or Bubba’s writers, hadn’t read the Scripture. The message presented was that Bubba is not responsible because he is a victim. And the perpetrator is society. Really?

I chose this topic for my column this week because I am outraged. First, I can’t believe anyone would see fit to put such a thing in an early morning cartoon when little ones are up and watching. Second, that sponsors would sponsor this. And last but not least, that anyone would think this fit for virgin ears.

Bless these precious ones’ hearts. And bless the parents who have to sit and monitor EVERY program their children watch. You just don’t know when something like “kick your butt” will sneak in. The Scriptures are clear. In the last days scoffers will sneak in and sit among us. Well grandparents, hold onto your hats. The scoffers are here and they are targeting your grandchildren. It’s time we take a stand.

I’m not sure yet what I plan to do about this. Clearly I told my son right away and he realizes it’s a big problem. I confessed that I did not jump out of the bed and turn off the TV. All I could muster was that I was in shock. I wanted to see how far they would go, and I found out -too far for my taste.

So if you are wondering which road to take next in life, let me assure you it is not the dirt road, the TV road or the yellow brick road. It is the narrow road. If you don’t know where that is, you better start looking fast – I think the tornadoes are hurling toward Kansas, and we are right in their path.

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