I’m flying to Canton, Ohio, this weekend for conversations with the superintendents of yearly meetings in Evangelical Friends Church – North America (EFC-NA). We’ll be discussing the future of this organization and its member churches as well as ways to help Barclay Press become a self-sustaining work among Friends. I would appreciate your prayer. The truth is that Barclay Press relies heavily on financial support from each of the six yearly meetings that make up EFC-NA. We will be hard-pressed to make changes. But we must. I am convinced that facing into tough spots and making difficult decisions can open creative potential for growth, efficiency, and efficacy. I am praying that will be what happens (or at least begins to happen) during our time together this coming weekend.
In this morning’s Fruit of the Vine, Dan Cammack shares a story that speaks to my concern. It’s a travel story, one in which Dan and a missionary “are hurtling down a narrow mountain road in the back of an ambulance.” The jeep they started with developed a leak in the right front tire, and “there was no spare ... so we flagged down the ambulance.” There are no seatbelts, and “the young man at the wheel drives like a maniac!”
“This wild ride is exactly why I ask the saints to pray for safety,” Dan writes, and it’s a reminder for us that no matter how comfortable we may feel, the reality is that “life and death are often just a matter of centimeters ... [and] death is always closer than we realize, even when we’re in what we think is the safety of our homes.”
Dan’s message isn’t intended to scare us. This is reality. We’re on a journey, and there is danger along the way. A flat tire. A narrow road. An ambulance with room for a few extra passengers.
We know where we’re headed, but we don’t know if we’re going to make it, and “the young man at the wheel drives like a maniac!” That's why it’s a comfort to be reminded that “our lives are truly in God’s hands wherever we are.”
I’ll be praying for you, and I hope you’ll be praying for us at Barclay Press as well. This is a wild ride. It’s also kind of scary. And I need help remembering that my life is in God’s hands.
Eric Muhr
This child's understanding
In this morning’s Fruit of the Vine, Deborah Climer shares an experience “teaching Sunday school at Silverton Friends Church.” The kindergarten lesson that morning was “about Jesus going out by himself to pray,” and in order to help children think about Jesus being alone, Deborah played a game with them, using a flannelgraph-like figure that was supposed to be Jesus. “After we talked about the story, I had someone hide Jesus and then the rest of us searched to find him.” There was an entire play kitchen in the classroom, and one child hid Jesus in the play microwave.
Deborah writes that “most of the children thought this was great fun.” But one child thought it was funny “for a different reason. ‘Miss Debbie,’ he said with a chuckle, ‘Jesus does not hide away, he is always with us.’”
This is what happens when we aim to teach others about our experience with God. We learn something new or are reminded of what we’ve forgotten: This child’s “understanding of who God is, and where he is, may seem somewhat child-like,” Deborah writes, “but he is wise beyond his years.”
I’m thankful, like Deborah, that Jesus is “available anytime, anywhere.” But I’m also curious. About the people in my life God is going to use to teach me (or remind me of) what matters.
And I pray that when they speak, I’ll be ready to listen.
Eric Muhr
To watch them go
In this morning’s Fruit of the Vine, J. Daniel Frost remembers his “hope – bright with excitement about the mission” to which God had called him, a call to pastor the Pelham (Ontario) Friends Church. “It was a bright day as I pulled away from my parents’ home in Delaware and headed north – alone.” In his contemplation of Jesus’ commissioning of the apostles in John 20:21, Frost wonders how it must have felt to send. Because even when we send someone out in obedience to a call, we are also sending them away. “I have thought about what might have been running through my parents’ minds and hearts as they watched me go down the road.... Did [they] feel an element of pain?”
It is good to name the gifts we see in others. But when they pursue their call, it can be hard – even in our hope – to watch them go.
If God calls someone we love, are we willing to let them go? And if God calls someone to serve with us, do we value the pain of those who, in obedience, released them?
Frost remembers how his ’57 Plymouth Fury “carried me safely to my destination and into my future life of ministry. And I have been the richer for it.” He also prompts us to consider “the pain and pride” felt by those who gave their “loved ones to the Lord’s service.”
Today, I’m thankful for people in my life who have been willing to let me go. I’m also thankful for the people and community God has given me – has always provided – no matter where I’ve been.
And I’m thankful for you.
Eric Muhr