Shepherds for Christ

By Marty Norman –

“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night”  (Luke 2:8).

Shepherds are amazing people. From biblical times to today, they are on guard as they watch over the sheep and baby lambs placed in their care. By day they feed the sheep, leading them to pastures for grazing. By night they guard the entrance to gated pens, protecting the sheep from wolves and predatory animals.

Shepherds have a distinct place in history. They were the first to whom God revealed the good news of the birth of his son. Standing in a brightly lit field, they stood in awe as the heavenly host descended, singing and praising God, proclaiming peace on earth, good will towards man.  Without hesitation, these simple men left the hills of Judea to see for themselves the miracle of the baby’s birth. They found him lying in a manager wrapped in swaddling clothes.

Today there are many types of shepherds–pastors, preachers, parents, grandparents, teachers and youth leaders.  They each have a role in the guarding of the flock. In God’s way, he uses the few to confound the many for he leads with precision those he has called to shepherd his sheep.

As grandmothers, we have our doctorate in shepherding. Not only does our age bless us with wisdom and longevity but our role in the family places us in a shepherd position. If we look closely at the Christmas story, the Word gives us the key to shepherding. For isn’t this how god made us—to feed our flocks by day and guard our flocks by night.

As grandmothers, we do this a number of ways–physically, spiritually and emotionally. Physically we provide necessities for their well-being, but we also give them fun things we didn’t provide for our own children because of lack of funds. Emotionally, we offer a place of safety and a heart of unconditional love; we see and have time to do the things that others don’t. Spiritually, we show Jesus to our grandkids when we sing songs or hymns of praise, sharing our joy in the Lord. At night we offer comfort and protection through our prayers. In our quiet times we speak and read the Word of the Lord over them, providing a canopy of covering.

But there is more to the Christmas story than just guarding the flock. Luke 2:17 tells us, ‘When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.”  This is the heart of the story. First they saw, guarded, protected and watched; then they went and told.

As 21^st century shepherds, are we doing the same, telling all that we see about Jesus?  Are the people who hear amazed at what we tell them?  If not, then we are not applying the Christmas story to today.

So our challenge this Christmas is to make a plan. Determine how you will you share the gospel that Jesus, the Messiah, has come. Who will you tell about the good news of the baby Jesus?

Prayer:   O God, I praise you that you sent your son, Emmanuel, the Messiah, to us on Christmas Eve. I praise you that you spoke to humble shepherds who were guarding their flocks by night. I thank you that they investigated, believed and went out to tell others.  I pray that you would do likewise with me. Use me this Christmas season to spread the good news of the birth of the Savior. Use me to amaze people with your story.

When the Internet Fails

By Marty Norman –

Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect (1 Peter 3:15 NIV). 

We’ve all experienced the confusion. Last night your email was working, this morning – no go.

What’s going on? Usually no one can say.

Personally I think it’s a sign of the times. More than likely it’s a sign of my age. And if the truth be known, I don’t like computers, never have and don’t think I ever will.

Sure, I use them. Sure, sometimes they make my life easy, especially when you compare Word Perfect to the old fashioned hit and peck type-writer that we used in my day.  In retrospect I can hardly believe we had to type everything perfectly. There was no cut and paste. How did we do it? Now you can change every word from top to bottom in a heartbeat. That part I like.

But with each blessing also comes a test.

And computers have tested me sometimes beyond my ability to endure. I’m talking about my patience and kindness quotient. They seem to fly out the window whenever I talk to someone regarding technology, especially the guys from India.

Bless their hearts, it’s not their fault. I don’t know what happens to me. Something just comes over me. I like to think it’s a computer demon that jumps on me and says, “You don’t have to take this. Let her rip.”

But the truth is – it’s me. It’s that old flesh thing rising up inside, making itself known, keeping me humble and needing God.

As a result I spend more time feeling bad about my behavior and in repentance to God than I do in fixing the computer.

So God and I are working on this issue. He’s developed a new training program for me: Plan B – being kind in all circumstances.

Clearly Plan B does not come naturally to me. I thought it did, but since the invention of the computer, all bets are off.

My current problem is buffering. Surely, you’ve experienced it. It’s when you are trying to live stream or watch a download or U-tube video. The tape stops incessantly and is crazy making.

I know this is not a computer problem.  My computer is only three months old and everything is up to snuff. I’m finally even comfortable downloading updates.

But regardless the problem, I’ve spent hours with my server on the phone. We’ve checked my download service, my download speed and my router connection. A technician has come out and replaced some gadget on the side of my house.

Recently I was told it was my modem.  That might be true as this one was probably purchased in the year 2000. But why didn’t they tell me that the first time I called?

But praise God I was nice this time. And that is only by the grace of God. Everything in me wanted to use the age card and shout, “Do you not know I am an old person. Technology is not my thing!”

After a brief conversation, which in itself was pretty miraculous, I was told it was indeed my modem and was promised a new one within five days.

“It is easy to install,” the heavily accented voice on the other end of the line told me.

I’m skeptical. But sure, I’ll play.  Maybe, just maybe this time things will turn around. But if this is part of the test, my training has been ratcheted up a notch.

When I receive the new modem, I plan to follow the instructions to the letter. If that doesn’t work, then I’m going back to the tried and true “age card.”

What else is a grandmother to do if she wants her computer to work?

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)

 

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