“I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit…” John 15:1-2

“What have you done!” my startled neighbor asked, looking at my rose garden, newly bereft of leaves, branches, roses, and six feet in height. All he saw that remained along my bark- mulched walkway was a six-inch stubble of sticks and thorns. What he didn’t see was the potential.

Truth often lies just beneath the surface of what is seen, and so the truth is that this severe pruning is the secret to my beautiful walkway. Nine months out of the sunny year here in Southern California I have roses blooming, so people want my secret. When I tell them it’s the pruning and continual pinching off old blooms that makes my roses so healthy, though, they don’t want to hear it. What fancy fertilizers and pesticides do I use? What is my watering schedule? No. Everything else is easy; it’s the pruning that’s hard and constant.

Spiritually, the parallels are stark and tend to make us uneasy. The branches that bear fruit will be pruned so they bear more fruit – the principle is unassailable. It works. I see it in my garden. Our Heavenly Father must remove things from us that are not best for us. We must be redirected. Things in our lives that are dead – or lead to death – must be pinched off, just as I pinch off the dead rose blooms so that nutrients and water are not wasted on the dead things of the rose, but are redirected towards growth and new life.  

In the orchard, when the peach tree sets too many peaches, and the branches are loaded, the wise grower will pinch off many, many tiny peaches to allow the ones left to mature to their full potential. Without this severe care, branches would break under the load and the tree would be damaged for the future. Without this care, the fruit that developed would be smaller, and often misshapen from being pushed up against each other.

The spiritual discipline of pruning reshapes our future. It strengthens us, driving our roots deep. It strips away everything that might distract us from our purpose – to bear spiritual fruit. It prepares us for service.  I leave you with these thoughts:

•  Behold, how happy is the man whom God reproves, so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty. Job 5:17
  

•   My son, do not reject the discipline of the Lord Or loathe His reproof, For whom the Lord loves He reproves, Even as a father corrects the son in whom he delights. Proverbs 3:11-12

•  He who neglects discipline despises himself, but he who listens to reproof acquires understanding. Prov.15:32
  

•   …and you have forgotten the exhortation which is addressed to you as sons,“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, Nor faint when you are reproved by Him; For those whom the Lord loves He disciplines, and He scourges every son whom He receives.” It is for discipline that you endure; God deals with you as with sons; for what son is there whom his father does not discipline? … He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness. All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness. Hebrew 12:5-11
  
• I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing. John 15:5
  

Looking forward to roses,

Cara and Patti

Classic Christianity

When my daughter was three she could have made Dr. Spock take early retirement. Not that she wasn't sweet as a little cupcake, but she never stopped talking. The words that continually rolled out of her little mouth were as ceaseless as the old Mississippi.

 "Why" was her favorite word. And we'd better be quick about answering or she'd be off to another topic before we could finish.

She absorbed information like a shop-vac and puzzled about everything.  "Why do the birds hop? Why are goldfish shiny? Why CAN"T I play with the TV knobs?" This little mind wondered about more things than I could supply answers for. But sometimes God helps out a harried parent with an unexpected angel.

We were in the pharmacy waiting room with her 2 week-old baby brother. She stroked his arm and suddenly darted toward a lovely African-American couple with a new baby of their own sitting across from us. She leaned on the woman's lap and stared at the baby swathed in pink and lace. She looked up at the mother and (as I sank into my seat) said " Our baby's peach,"  with a questioning look. I knew what would come next. There had to be some kind of "why?" in there. Before I could react to gather her back, the woman smiled and said sweetly, "that's because God is so kind to give us each our favorite color."

Those wise and beautiful words made perfect sense to my dynamo and she came back to me already chattering about something else.  As the week of remembering Martin Luther King's birthday passes, let's not cease to give thanks for the kindness of God. We are all glorious creations in His garden. May we give Him praise for the many colors, temperaments,  customs, personalities, and viewpoints that make the fabric of humanity rich and varied, interesting and unique. And, let us embrace each other with kindness and love as a perfect stranger did for my precious little girl. 

This I command you, to love one another John 15:17

Blessings,
Patti and Cara
Classic Christianity

Growing up it was my job to dry the dishes. I was sadly deprivcd of an automatic dishwasher - since they hadn't been invented. But each evening after dinner Mom would wash and I would dry and put away those enormous stacks of dishes, pots, pans and utensils required to make her good "southern-cooking."
          It was a time when we'd talk and review the day. I'd tell her about school and she'd tell me which set of Priscilla Curtains she'd  washed, starched and ironed that day or some such chore she'd conquered. We laughed at the cocker spaniel puppy playing in the yard and sometimes she'd put soap bubbles on my nose. This action stopped when I reached about 12 and became far too sophisticated for such antics.
                The thing I remember most about doing the dishes (as we called it) with Mom was the day I dropped a plate and it broke into about 43 pieces, if I were to guess.  I was so horrified and frightened. What would she do? What punishment would be doled out for such a huge trespass? It was not an"everyday" plate. It was the "good china," reserved for very special occasions. There was a looonnnggg moment of silence. I said "I'm sorry Mama."
           She dried her hands on her apron (we all wore them then), placed her hands on my shoulders and said, "It's all right. It was an accident." 
            Astonished, I responded, "I thought you'd be mad! - It was a "good plate."  
            Smiling, Mama handed me the dust pan saying, "People are more important than things."
           When I was first taught about the word "Grace" in the context of "God's grace," it was so simple for me to understand. I just remembered Mom and that plate. Mom showed me Jesus that day. When I had a little sister, and then my own children, I told them the same words when they broke their first dishes. I hope I showed them Jesus too.

---And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you."  IICor. 12:9

Thankful for grace!
Patti and Cara

Classic Christianity

For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.  There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.                                                                            –Gal 3:27-28

It has been ten years ago, now, I suppose.  Martin Luther King Day was approaching, and I had been trying to figure out how to make the whole subject of civil rights real to my kids.  White kids, raised in California like their parents, what do they know of prejudice?  I knew that even in the 70’s I had never understood civil rights. I had friends at school who were black, brown, yellow, and white; everything seemed fine in my very limited bubble of a world.

If I, right at the tail of the civil rights moment, could be so clueless, I knew my children needed specific teaching. As an adult, I had lived in for three years in a place where racism was alive and well. That experience shook me, opened my eyes to things I had never been in a position to see before. No, this I would not allow them to simply “catch” by my example and words. I wanted them to see and hear and understand to the best of their ability what dream it was that Dr. King dreamt.

Calling around, I found several marches scheduled. I kept calling. Finally - The Second Missionary Baptist Church in a neighboring city was holding a praise and memorial service to “Honor the Man and Worship his Lord and Ours.” The advertisement said that the elders in the church were going to speak about their experiences with segregation. 

Loading up my kids, and the one friend each they were allowed to invite, we headed out to church that Monday.  The choir was in full-swing, even though we arrived early, and my kids’ eyes were as big as saucers as the choir sang to raise the rafters, with the whole congregation on its feet, clapping along.

After the singing, the littlest members of the church recited the “I Have a Dream” speech – the cutest rendition ever. But then the real service began, in my mind. One by one, for probably two hours, people came up front and through tears of remembrance told their stories.

One lady had been, with her sister, among the first African-American students to integrate Oklahoma City High School.  Escorted by the National Guard, she walked a gauntlet of hurled epithets that whole first week, just to get in the door. She talked about being spat on, yelled at, about how she was terrified her entire first two years at that school.  After she sat down, a man – a local professor – told about how he was raised down south with separate drinking fountains, separate restrooms, separate everything.  He remembered having to sit in the balcony of the movie theatre.  As tears streamed down his face, he shook his head, “You would think it wouldn’t be so painful now,” he said, as he recalled being beaten for racing into the wrong restroom when he had been just 8 years old, and in the kind of desperate need only an 8 year old can know. 

Wide eyed, my kids kept looking at me. The quizzical looks in their eyes were answered by my nod – and my pointed finger – Look, Listen, Hear.  The shock they felt, near disbelief, was visible on their silent faces as they heard each individual tale.  Why didn’t they call the police?  Why didn’t the government DO something?  Why?  Just because they were black? One by one, we heard their painful, embarrassing, heart-wrenching stories. Filled with pain undimmed by passing years, the realities of prejudice were laid bare.  I looked around and realized that this church had really hit on a key concept – the passing down of history through generations. I realized that it was not just my little white kids who were hearing this all for the first time, but that younger generations of black families, too, were sitting entranced, hardly able to absorb all they were hearing.

After the service, the pastor and some of the older people who had been speaking sought us out.  They came with cameras in hand, asking if we would take a picture with them.  I couldn’t understand – why?  I looked around again and realized we were the only white people there that day. Embarrassed, we stood for pictures. Embarrassed, we left. The ride home was silent for a few minutes, but then the barrage of questions started. I mark that day as the first day my children began to understand who Martin Luther King, Jr. was and what his “Dream” means for all of us.

As time passes, we are losing the generations who can tell us of their own experiences with integrating schools, with voting rights struggles, with the prejudice and the ignorance that reveal the very worst in human nature. Now is the time.  Ask questions of your elders, video tape their answers for the future.  Together, we need to hear their stories, so that together we can say, “Never again.” 

During the civil rights movement of the turbulent 60’s, Rev. Meade said this:
              We foolishly think we become superior when we try to keep another in an inferior position. Thus Japan oppressed the Chinese. Thus Germany annihilated six million Jews. Thus we have sinned against our black brothers. As Christians we must realize that unbrotherliness destroys not only our bodies, but our souls. The victim of a lynching dies physically, but in so torturing him, his crucifiers kill that which is human in themselves. The person who through discrimination seeks to keep another in an inferior position, lowers himself instead.
                 Brotherhood is a law, the law of God. “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” We cannot hold this issue in abeyance any longer. God is no respecter of persons. In His sight we are all children of the same family. I must be a Christian first, not a white man, or a black man, or any other sort of man. The one hope for fellowship, for peace in this world of division, is the Spirit of Christ working in the hearts of all God’s children. Would to God it may begin today.

Amen!
Blessings to you and yours,

Cara and Patti
Classic Christianity

     This New Year brought a host of new decisions with it. For one, the economic stresses booted me right out of my comfort zone and into unknown territory. Like many people, this year is a time of reassessment and revision. What should stay and what should go in our family budget?
       I prayed that God would open those heavenly windows and pour down  solutions, but instead He seems to be doing something else.  My devotional time in the Word is filled with examples of how people have had to  make choices, and He very pointedly showed me this year that I should "Owe no man." That of course led to the question - "How, Lord?" Almost immediately two job opportunities opened. One to go back to nursing full time in a position that would require travel and being away from my husband 2-3 days at a time. The other was a small business that I could run out of my home setting my hours and level of involvement. The first would mean letting go of the Women's Bible Study I hold on Mondays and being away from a health-challenged husband more  time than I'm comfortable with.The second would allow me to continue holding Bible study and be at home, but have no guarantees of meeting financial goals. What to do??
          Amasiah, a general spoken of in II Chronicles 17:16  "Willingly offered himself to the Lord." He put God first. We all put God somewhere in our lives whether it's first or last. Jesus preached the same idea years later when He said "Seek first the Kingdom of God." My sis and I have books God has blessed us with that are blessing people all over the earth, a radio program that is blessing people with "the Word" every weekday morning. These are callings that must be first. The Bible Study is also a calling and responsibility. My husband and family are a wonderful responsibility so how does it all fit in?
          I choose to put God first - seek first the kingdom of God - and trust Him to meet my needs. If we find an agent for the books this year and a sponsor for the radio program that will be a blessing right out of the windows of Heaven. If this new business can help me to be debt-free and yet still meet the gifts of challenge and responsibility the Lord has given me that make my life a wonderful adventure and praise to Him, what a miracle that will be! I feel so much peace in putting God first in these decisions
          There was once a man who was asked "What is your business, sir?" He answered, "I am a Christian, sir."  "I mean, what is it you do to make a living?"  "My business is to be a Christian, I pack pork to make a living." - -  Isn't that great?  
           Dear Lord, like Amasiah, I want to live for you firstly. willingly, and in whatever situation I find myself. Today, Lord, as I go about my earthly business, use me in Your Heavenly business. What an honor! Thank you Lord. Amen.

(references from Classic Christianity Vol 2 page 61-62)

  Choose wisely, dear friends.
   Patti and Cara
   Classic Christianity

 

“So teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”  Psalm 90:12
 
           One of my children had a birthday last week. Somehow, that used-to-be-baby of mine is an adult, complete with adult opinions, responsibilities, and gifts.  Yet also, a dear friend slipped the bonds of this earth and went to live in her heavenly mansion, face-to-face with Jesus. How could these things be ?  Time is truly running through my hourglass at an alarming rate!
           The days seem to evaporate before my eyes, at times.  When we are young, counting the days till some milestone presents itself, - Sixteen?  Eighteen?  Twenty-one? -  we can hardly wait.  But when those birthdays seem like long-ago memories, perhaps we wish them back.  Yet, in God’s Word we see that it is not age that makes us useful to our Lord.   The little maid was just a slip of a girl when she spoke to Naamen; many of the patriarchs were over 100 when they accomplished their greatest works for the Lord.  
           What, then, is the secret of the conquest of time?  What is the triumph of the soul over the tyranny of days?  We must live this moment, for that is really all the time there is, and we must not waste a precious tick of the clock. We must be present, and active in our present.  Time is the very fabric of life; we dare not either wish it past or wish it back.  We must live it.  We must number our days as we would count our money, with the understanding that it must be used with good stewardship. 
            Time has been called the tester of truth, the healer, and the one preacher to whom all must listen, yet Christ triumphed over time when he conquered death. Through Christ, the gift of eternal life is yours. But our days on this swiftly spinning orb are numbered; our days to work for our Lord here in this vineyard are limited.
            So today, look out across the coming days, weeks and months and determine to make the most of the scraps of time, the odd hours, the leftover bits of days.  For that is more than enough time to make us masters of whole fields of knowledge and service yet unexplored.   That is more than enough time to dig into the Word of God, to get to know Him through prayer, to make your life count for your Savior.  That is more than enough time to give a hug, pat a back, send a note of appreciation. Make it a priority to make it happen. 
          
Thank You, Father God, for my life and the blessings I enjoy here on earth.  Help me to make each moment count for You, to seek to fully use and live each day.  Strengthen me to approach life with discipline, with joy, and with purpose as I live it for You.  In Jesus’ name, Amen.


With prayers that your New Year brings new opportunities,
Cara and Patti
Classic Christianity