Lisa Hetzel

      Back in the olden days (okay, the 70s), we would spend afternoons playing kickball, hide-and-go-seek and Red Rover in each other’s backyards. Occasionally, someone would argue that something was unfair. Heated arguments would reach ear piercing levels until someone would cave in and declare, “Okay, it’s a Do over!”
     Surrender to this option would satisfy both teams, keep everyone accountable and allow the game to continue. I need to “do over” parts of my own life. Instead of making new resolutions, I’m going to re-examine my attempts at last year’s: listen well, be part of the solution, and  celebrate the joy in each day.
     I have to admit that I haven’t made as much progress as I could have. Too often, I didn’t give people time to really speak before starting to come up with my own response. Sometimes, when divisive words were said, I remained silent. I even ignored the beauty right in front of my eyes.
     I’m left with the option of improving last year’s list or throwing them out and starting all over. As I think about it, my morning devotional directs my choice:

“Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” (Col 3: 13 NIV)

Did your calendar come with preprinted holidays? Mine did. When I flipped it to December, I came across an unfamiliar event: December 26, Boxing Day. A little digging and I discovered that it has nothing to do with the sport of boxing. It’s all about giving.

Here’s what I found in an internet resource called Wikipedia: “Boxing Day is a public holiday in the United Kingdom, Canada, New Zealand and Australia and countries in the Commonwealth of Nations with a mainly Christian population. It is based on the tradition of giving gifts to the less fortunate members of society.”

What a neat idea. I know. It sounds just like what we have been doing this past month. Giving trees, canned food barrels and clothing drives have graced our community. I didn’t think that I had anything else to give until this morning, when I heard myself saying, “I don’t know where to put all of this stuff.” My son wasn’t sure that new inventory of toys would fit on his shelves. Later, when I reached for a towel in our linen closet, I was greeted by an avalanche of blankets. Hmmmm….Maybe I could look one more time to see if there’s anything to give.

We live in a land of abundance. Even during these uncertain times, many of us have plenty of stuff and then some. Poverty is not seasonal. It’s a continual need. I’m going to let Boxing Day kick off a new tradition. Each time that I receive a gift or treat, I’m going to see if there’s something that I can donate.

“Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” (2 Cor 9:7 NIV)

Lord, thank you for the countless blessings that you’ve bestowed. Teach me how to have a generous heart like yours.

Did you ever mix finger paint together when you were a child? The smooth, slippery concoction would evolve into a beautiful surprise. Brilliant blobs of blues would reach into ruby colored splotches. Swirling them wholeheartedly would reveal unbelievable hues of violet. It was so much fun!

This season, the rubies and emeralds have wrapped our banisters, doorways and dining room centerpieces with holly and ivy. The greens of wreaths remind us of God’s everlasting love. The reds recall His sacrifice on the cross.

If you mix red and green, you’ll get brown. However, this season, when some people see these colors, they’ll feel blue.Among the season of joy, salvation and miracles, there is a quiet sadness.  While busloads of children dive into bows and boxes this Christmas morn, there will be others who will swallow tears.  The range of colors is immense, and the emotions of this Christmas season will be vast.

Some will mourn the loss of a loved one. Some will be completely absorbed in regrets. Many will shake their head in disbelief at mounting debts.  A pool of blue will form as these souls face a choice: loneliness or love?

When you are mixing colors, you keep adding a little bit of one and then the other until you are satisfied. In love, when someone is sad, you can choose to offer comfort, community, guidance, or nothing at all. Without losing who you are, you can add to someone else’s life.  If you are sad, you can choose to ask for help, receive a kind gesture of friendship, lean on God,  or remain in your situation.  With someone to support you, you can rediscover your own strength.

I’ve been fortunate to be in both situations during the holidays: joyful and mournful. It’s easy to forget that others might be having a difficult time when the commercials advertise the sales and the carols play. It’s also easy to forget that I have a responsibility as part of Christ’s command:

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35 NIV)

Lord, please help me be mindful of those who may need me to share a little bit of myself with them this holiday. Show me how to love others like you love us.

“For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.” (Ps 91:11 NIV)

Mom has always said that everyone has a guardian angel. Someone continuously prays for you and nudges you to stay close to God. Two weeks ago, Mom’s angel called in the troops.
A malicious stroke tried, in vain, to capture her mind and spirit. Paralysis and loss of speech were not able to squelch Mom’s sense of humor and determination.

Each member of the battalion brought their arsenal to rescue her. Some carried stethoscopes, lab reports and guidance. Others hand delivered warm meals and soothing sponge baths. Silent and unwavering, they surrounded her. They swept the floor beneath her bed, brought fresh linens and monitored the machines that measured each breath. When they spoke, their voices revealed birthplaces from Ethiopia, Hong Kong, India, and the United States. Each warrior tenderly strengthened her.They even sent reinforcements for our family. Hugs, cards and meals flowed. And each afternoon we would join other families who were camped in the waiting room. Gentle warriors rolled in trays of homemade cookies.

So Mom continued to fight. Little things like swallowing water and grabbing a spoon were cause for celebration. Setbacks and complications invited everyone to climb on an emotional rollercoaster. But God’s army kept fighting.

To our amazement, she has been moved to the rehabilitation wing of the hospital. The army of angels has grown. In the military, they refer to these folks as specialists. In this battle, they are commonly known as family, therapists, lab technicians, food service workers, custodians, volunteers, nurses and doctors. The miracle is not just in Mom’s healing. It is in the witness of hundreds of moments of compassion, hope and grace.

No one is immune to life’s tragedies. I feel so blessed that God has drawn people to strengthen us. I only hope that I can serve as a reminder that God is ever present.

“Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Th 5:18)

Don’t you just love opening presents? Shiny, colorful, crinkling paper tears away as wishes are filled. The words “thank you” are effortlessly repeated. If you want to hear a lot of grateful people, just watch celebrities as they climb the stairs to receive their Oscars.

But life is not always a party. Certainly, it is not the Emmys. Along with days filled with presents, friends and food, life has its share of trials. Fear, loneliness, and bitterness consume so many.
It’s easy to feel grateful when things are going well. But God calls us to be thankful in all circumstances.

When life becomes difficult, uttering the words of thanks are the last thing from people’s minds. The reality of job losses, broken families, and sickness happens everyday.

As I sit in the waiting room of ICU, I wait for news that the stroke won’t completely incapacitate my mom. What words of thanks can I utter?

I’m overwhelmed, exhausted, and worried. The last thing that I can think about it is a grateful heart. As I begin to pray I feel peace. Then, I realize that I can thank God for the lullaby music that is played as babies are born in this hospital. I look around and see clusters of families and friends as they talk about their loved one. I feel so blessed that I was able to come out to help my dad. I’m thankful that I can be here.

Dear Lord,
You, oh Lord, know everything that is happening. Thank you for helping me understand that I don’t have to do it all by myself. All that I have to do is keep giving you thanks.

Did you ever have to make a project for school? I was one of four kids and our kitchen was continually used as Project Central. There was always a sigh of relief when the toothpick creation, rolled poster board or shoebox diorama was finally taken to school.

Now, as a parent, we have given our son a permanent shelf assigned for his “works in progress.” While he was designing his latest masterpiece, I remembered some unfinished assignments of my own.

During a college Bible study, I was given a difficult challenge. We were studying Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. When we reached verse 13, the teacher stopped and said that we had just reached a lifelong challenge.

Take the word “love” out of the verse below. Substitute your name. Then, read it aloud.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails” (I Cor 13: 4-8 NIV).

It’s twenty years later, and I’m still trying to complete this assignment. I have realized that the whole point is to become more like Jesus. Unlike the poster or shoebox, I am considered successful if I continue to do all that I can and lean on God for the rest. I know that I can depend on him, because God never fails.

Prayer Starter: Dear Lord, please show me how to take steps to become more loving. Remind me to notice how my attempts affect others. Grant me wisdom to know when to speak and when to listen, when to take action and when to simply wait. Thank you for your generous kindnesses. Amen.

It’s official. Mudslinging season is winding down to a close. During the next few days, emotions will run high, opinions will be shared and votes will be tallied. Don’t make a mistake. Our children are watching us. I know, it doesn’t seem possible that our own kids can comprehend complex issues involved in national and local elections. They probably don’t.

But, one of the perks of teaching five year olds is that I get to enjoy hearing some of the most adorable, creative, uninhibited attitudes. Most of the time, when kindergartners are talking about the elections, they mimic the adults that they have heard. Sometimes, they even sound like radio or television commercials.

The bottom line is that they are learning about our own perceptions of truth. Children are not paying as much attention to what we say as much as what we do. They are constantly looking for our actions to match our words. This is a hard challenge to meet. Regardless of how well we reach any attempts to be good examples, they base their primary opinions on what they see .

“Let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence.” (1 John 3: 18-19 NIV)

Have I sought God’s guidance as I prepared to vote? Have I shown respect when discussions revealed that I disagreed with someone? Did I really listen? Have I allowed the election to separate me from others? If I have, how can I help heal this wound? Will I be a good witness when the results are announced?

Dear Lord,
Please lead us in your truth, your life, your way. Help us to become more like you. Show us how to work together. Thank you for the privilege of witnessing your love. Amen

I’m an obedience school dropout. I know, we probably should have stuck it out, but our six month old Dachshund, affectionately named Dipstick, just wasn’t ready.

Her enthusiasm was never the issue. She couldn’t wait to scramble through the parking lot to get to class. The problem was with cooperation. The instructor told us that the first thing that we needed to establish was leadership with our pet. Weekly classes involved activities establishing our role as the “Alpha.”

It’s not as easy as it sounds. Instead of quietly submitting to me as I held her in my arms, she squirmed and knocked chairs down. When others would sit and wait for a treat near their nose, my four legged friend would dig in my pocket for more. Occasionally, she would forget that she wanted to be a puppy and would actually sit or stay. Most of the time, however, it was a wrestling match. I’m sure that we were a sight to behold: Me, a grown forty-something woman with a foot in a cast and her, a fourteen pound furry tail-wagging wonder.

I promise. We really did do our homework. We practiced. I rewarded appropriate behavior. But, she simply didn’t want to submit to anyone yet.

Then, it dawned on me. Sometimes, no matter how much we lead someone, they will not trust in God until they are ready. I found true peace when I realized that God is my alpha. I can completely trust in Him to lead me, teach me and supply all of my needs. Following His will does not diminish my identity, it reveals who I am.
Unlike my pooch, I will choose to lie in His arms and follow His voice.

Dear Lord,
Left on my own, I might do well. I might even do something remarkable. But with you, Oh Lord, leading me, I can do so much more. Please help me to follow you, my Alpha, all the days of my life.

Snatching the handle from the holder, I quickly unscrewed the cap. Whew! I squeezed tightly and waited. Clunk, click, silence. The manager stepped outside and shouted, “Sorry, we’re all out of gas.”

Argh!

Have you rearranged your entire schedule to join the local scavenger hunt? I couldn’t believe that they rationed gas by the dollar here in Conyers. I wasn’t sure that we would have enough to last through the week.

I Googled gas price websites and searched local stations as I watched my gauge move steadily toward “E” all week. Our nine year old, usually oblivious to gas station lines, became aware of how this present situation could affect him and our after school activities. Suddenly, he was very interested in this present gas shortage.

When he asked me if there had ever been another problem with fuel, I happily started recanting my memories of gas rationing in the 70s. Just when I thought that he had completely lost interest in my thrilling tale from the olden days, he piped up.

“Hey, isn’t that like the manna story from the bible?”

We talked about the Old Testament books of Exodus and Numbers, when God sent manna from Heaven. The miracle came with a difficult challenge: the Israelites would have to trust God for their needs, one day at a time.

Then, the questions came, “Wait, all these people escaped, followed Moses across the Red Sea and traveled through the desert? And they grumbled? Wow, and then God sent what down from the sky? They could only get enough for a day at a time? Couldn’t they store any? What happened if they took too much? Hey, that’s kind of like gas right now.”

He’s right. We have taken the luxury of our supply for granted. Now, the shortage is bringing out the worst in some folks. There are stories about people behaving like children while they cut in line and yell at each other. Some people are making sure to fill up each day, as they fear that they will run out. Station owners say that panic is further aggravating the problem.

When Jesus began his ministry, he told us that he would supply all of our needs. He came to give us something that would last much longer than food or fuel.

Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.” (John 6:35 NIV)
What if we would seek the real food, God’s love? We could have the everlasting bread, Jesus. Where would the crowds be if instead of a gas crisis, it was a faith crisis? What if people wanted to make sure that they had enough private prayer with God, and time with friends in a faithful community? Would we cram the church parking lots and grab a front row seat so that we could be spiritually fed?

Prayer Starter: Lord, if only I would seek you as earnestly and desperately as I look for working gas pumps. If only I could demonstrate gratefulness for your presence in my life. As I drive this week, please help me remember that as I ask for help with daily details, you give me all that I will ever need.

“Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” (Matt 6: 12  )

I remember exactly where I was. I was in a kindergarten teacher meeting when the school secretary burst in.

We raced to the TV in the conference room. I trembled as I watched the events before my eyes. “Oh, my God,” I whispered. “Oh, Lord God, what is happening?”

Yesterday was Patriot’s Day, the seventh anniversary of 9/11. It has been so difficult for so many. Everyone seems to know someone affected. There has been so much loss. Families lost loved ones. Scores of friends were never seen again. Countless rescue workers gave their lives. As a country, we mourned our innocence and security. Rage toward a faceless enemy gave many of us nightmares, headaches, illnesses, and depression, Jobs were lost, relationships were strained and some people never returned to “normal.” People pointed fingers. Everything and everyone was questioned.

Tears still run when I see images from that awful day.. Fear, shock and helplessness are still felt today. Across the world, there were many who couldn’t shield themselves from the effects when they turned off their TV. When search and rescue teams came, a new wave of sadness rushed in. I kept checking the major networks and newspapers, certain that that hundreds were safe.

Those closer to the loss waited in long lines and searched websites for any word that their loved ones were alright. When they didn’t hear, they mourned all over again.
We clung to each other and prayed. When the first airplane flew near our playground, I felt nauseated until it passed by.

Now, I could easily list all of the wonderful things that came from this day. Many people came together and renewed their faith in God. Flags were flown, and stars and stripes appeared everywhere. We wore everything patriotic that we could. Songs played, flags covered sports arenas and media reporters fed us daily updates about wonderful people showing kindnesses.

But, the pain is still deep. I keep feeling the sense that I need to really focus on the forgiveness aspect of the Lord’s Prayer. I learned to say this part, “forgive us our trepasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Lord, the people who are responsible definitely trespassed. How in the world can I forgive them? These bad guys are still out there. I have not seen any CNN reports that have announced anyone confessing. I’m not ready to think about forgiveness . It’s just too hard.
A

nd then, an idea comes to mind: I will forgiven by the same measure that I have forgiven others. In the Lord’s prayer Jesus did not say, “forgive them if they agree to turn themselves in. “

So, this is what I will try. I will ask God to help me forgive those involved in any of the attacks. This is how we reconcile in kindergarten.. Here’s a typical conversation between two of my students: “Abby, I’m sorry that I broke your crayons,” says Maria. “It’s okay, Abby, I forgive you. But, don’t do it again.”
I can’t expect the “bad guys” to leave us in peace. But in my prayer. I can start trying to forgive them. It is a hard thing to do. But, if I want to be like Jesus, I have to start somewhere.

Dear Lord,
You know my heart. You know the pain, fear and rage, confusion inside so many of us. Please help us learn how to forgive. Continue to draw us closer to you. Amen.