The lesson of the begats

All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong with our lives. It straightens us out and teaches us to do what is right. It is God’s way of preparing us in every way, fully equipped for every good thing God wants us to do. – 2 Timothy 3:16–17 (NLT)

Are you guilty of skipping the “begats”?

The “begats” to which I refer are found in the first chapter of Matthew—you know, the long list of Jesus’ ancestors.

History never stuck with me, especially long lists of names I can’t even pronounce, let alone see why they’re important. Besides, when I read, I like action. So I, too, am guilty of passing over the begats.

But one time I forced myself to read through them—only because I was following a read-through-the-Bible-in-one-year program and putting a check mark in the “Matthew 1” box without actually reading it was cheating and lying. I knew the deceit would prey on my conscience, so I plowed through.

And I discovered something interesting: Jesus’ ancestors were not a saintly bunch. Up until then, I’d assumed that Jesus, who was sinless and pure, would have had a bloodline that reflected his holiness. Yet “holy” hardly describes some of the characters mentioned. I’d also assumed that his bloodline would be pure as well—all His ancestors would have been Jewish. I was wrong on that account, too.

Jesus’ ancestry includes people who lied, cheated, deceived, stole, and committed adultery and murder. Abraham lied on at least two occasions to save his own skin. Jacob, whose name means “deceitful,” lived up to his name. Judah thought nothing of sleeping with a woman he thought was a prostitute. Bathsheba, Solomon’s mother, committed adultery with King David, who had her husband murdered when he discovered she was pregnant with his child.

Rahab was a prostitute from Jericho and not an Israelite. Neither was Ruth, King David’s great-grandmother. She hailed from Moab—Israel’s one-time enemy. A nation birthed in incest, Moab's bloodline traced back to Lot, who slept with his own daughters. Then there was the shrewd and perseverant Tamar, whose twins were begotten in deceit.

Talk about skeletons in your closet! Jesus sure had plenty in His ancestry.

Another interesting note in the genealogy Matthew recorded is that he included women. It was unusual for women to be listed in Jewish genealogies. Matthew, however, lists five: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba and Mary.* Only two were Jewish. Three bore moral blots.

Everything in God’s Word has a purpose; even the accounts of unsavory characters whom God chose to fill a slot in the ancestry of His own Son. That God allowed far-from-perfect men—and women—a part in His plan to save sinners is evidence of His amazing grace. Nobody’s perfect, but surely there were people with better moral records than these.

Seeing the names of some pretty unsavory characters whose treachery and deceit are chronicled in the archives of man, gave me a sense of relief and freedom. Relief that I don’t have to be perfect—God can use me warts and all. And freedom from guilt that my past indiscretions will cause me to miss out on God’s purpose for me.

For God, you see, “has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done, but because of his own purpose and grace” (2 Timothy 1:9 NIV).

Skeletons in your closet? Don’t fret about them. It isn’t what’s in your closet that God’s concerned about—it’s what’s in your heart.

Thank you, God, for the lesson of the begats. Amen.

Special-Tea: Matthew 1

*Over the next few weeks, we’re going to look at the stories of these five women, the role they played in Jewish history, and what it means for us today.

Thanksgiving thoughts

For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations. – Psalm 100:5 (NIV)

God has given me many gifts. In this season of Thanksgiving, I’m going to dwell on three of them: the past, the present, and the future.

I’m thankful for my past, especially that I grew up in a home where I witnessed my mother talking to God all day long. “Don’t You let it rain,” she’d say when she hung the laundry on the line. I’m sure that’s why I still live with an awareness of God’s abiding presence moment by moment.

“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast” (Psalm 139:7–10 NIV).

Which brings me to the second gift for which I’m thankful: the present. For the freezer and panty shelves stocked with vegetables harvested from our garden. For the firewood stacked in the barn. For health and energy. For Friday night date nights with my husband. For our five beautiful, fun grandchildren. For my husband’s job. For opportunities to work out of my home doing what I love best. For the sunsets and sunrises and birds and trees and butterflies and all God created for our enjoyment and use. God’s abundant provision blows me away.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God . . . And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches . . .” (Philippians 4:6, 19 NIV).

Glory . . . that brings me to the third thing for which I’m thankful: the future.

There’s quite a bit of interest these days in end times. Some believe 2012 will be the last year for planet Earth. I’m not too worried about it. I don’t put a whole lot of stock in man’s predictions. My Bible tells me only God knows when this will be. So why get all stressed about it?

Besides, whether the world ends in 2012, before then or after, I know where I’ll spend eternity: Heaven. (1 John 5:11-12). In the meantime, I know that God has a plan and purpose for me (Psalm 138:8). Watching God’s awesome plan for my life as it unfolds day by day is more exciting than the latest special effects movie.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11 NIV).

“The one thing I do, however, is to forget what is behind me and do my best to reach what is ahead. So I run straight toward the goal in order to win the prize, which is God’s call through Christ Jesus to the life above” (Philippians 3:13–14 TEV).

Past, present, future—my times are in His hand (Psalm 31:15).

Thank you, Lord, for Your abiding presence, abundant provision and awesome plan. Amen.

Special-Tea: Psalm 100, Joel 2:23–24, Habakkuk 3:17–18.

Insufficient coverage

Answer me when I call to you, O my righteous God. . . . The LORD will hear when I call to him. – Psalm 4:1,3 (NIV)

Living in a rural area can be challenging when it comes to technology like the Internet.

As a writer, writing mentor and editor, I depend on it for my livelihood. Almost all my work these days—articles, book proposals, edited manuscripts, reviewed student writing lessons—are sent over the ’Net. Research and reference are done online. I can obtain detailed information about small countries on the other side of the world without leaving my writing room. I can also participate in writing seminars and never leave my house, thanks to the “webinars” now offered online. In addition, invitations to speak at various functions often appear in my email Inbox.

Now, living where I do—twelve miles from the nearest town in the village of Smithport, 2,000 feet above sea level—the only affordable option to connect to the Wide World Web has been dialup. To say the service has been substandard lately is a gross understatement.

Establishing a connection alone is aggravating and frustrating, to say the least. Using dialup to connect to the Internet is like a horse and buggy trying to merge into freeway traffic during rush hour.

And when I do manage to connect, the fastest speed I’ve ever gotten is 49.2 kbps (kilobytes per second)—nowhere near fast enough to download Web pages and photos or email my radio program to the station that airs it in a timely manner. It’s like asking a snail to do the work of a Concord jet.

Then, what I call e-cups (electronic hiccups) occur: dropped connections, network timeouts, and “this is taking too much time” notices. It’s almost enough to make me lose my religion.

Since the above scenarios have been occurring with increasing frequency, I decided to look into other options. DSL isn’t available here in the middle of nowhere. Satellite is too expensive. The electric company is considering offering Broadband, but that won’t be for at least another year. I can’t wait that long.

Thinking the problem might be the computer modem going bad (a modem is what establishes the connection), I called my computer guy.

“How’s your cell service out there?” he asked.

“Spotty. Why?”

I could purchase a device that plugged into my computer and would act like a cell phone and establish a much faster connection—like 12 times faster than my fastest dialup speed.

What would it hurt to try, I thought. So I bought the device and subscribed to the service. It was the only way I’d know whether or not it would work.

It didn’t.

Several attempts to establish a connection failed, with the notice in a popup window: “Unable to connect at this time due to insufficient coverage. Please try again when you are in either a NationalAccess or BroadbandAccess area.”

I checked the coverage map of America’s largest and most reliable wireless network. Most of the US was solid red, but a pinpoint of white, meaning no coverage, designated the tiny area where Smithport is located.

I’m so glad the connection I establish with God through prayer isn’t like my Internet woes. I know He hears me when I’m long-winded and full of fire, sure my prayers are shooting up to heaven on the fastest Broadband speed available.

But what about the times when I don’t know how to pray? When all I can do is sigh and whisper, “Oh, Lord.” Does He still hear me when, like my dialup connection, I stutter and stagger, and my words are weak and disconnected?

The answer is a resounding “Yes!”

With God, I’ve learned, there is no such thing as insufficient coverage. Whether my signal is weak or strong, He always hears the cries of my heart.

Give ear to my words, O LORD, consider my sighing. Listen to my cry for help, my King and my God, for to you I pray. In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation (Psalm 5:1-3 NIV). Amen.

Special-Tea: Psalms 4:1–5:12

Semper Fi

Let not loyalty and faithfulness forsake you; bind them about your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. So you will find favor and good repute in the sight of God and man. – Proverbs 3:3–4 (RSV)

If you’re a fan of NCIS, like I am, you know that Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs is a diehard former Marine, loyal to the boys of the Corps to the core. Gibbs is the embodiment of the Marine Corps motto, Semper Fi—always faithful.

Maybe that’s why NCIS is one of the top shows on TV. We’re drawn to characters who are larger than life, who embody qualities that are admirable, noble and good, such as faithfulness.

Funny, how hard Hollywood tries to ram its corrupt values down America’s throat. If Hollywood had issued its own “Ten Commandments,” the seventh one would read, “Thou shalt commit adultery,” and the tenth one, “Thou shalt covet thy neighbor’s wife.” You’d think faithfulness were a relic of the ancients.

But it’s not. Just let some government big shot get caught cheating on his wife (or husband), and the affair is splashed across the headlines of America. We hold our leaders to a high standard. We want—no, we demand—honesty, fairness, nobility, trustworthiness and faithfulness—to family, employer, community, country and comrades.

Faithfulness, in spite of all Hollywood does to convince us otherwise, is alive and well in America today. It just doesn’t get the press its opposite does.

Don’t believe me? Just talk to a member or former member of the US Marine Corps, and you’ll get a glimpse of Semper Fi in action. Go to a wedding or gathering of people who are strangers and notice the reaction to a soldier in a Marine Corps uniform. Instant camaraderie. Decals, lapel pins, bumper stickers—anything that identifies a Marine or former Marine results in the same bonding. Marines stick together. They are a loyal brotherhood like no other.

In his web article, “The Meaning of Semper Fidelis,” Cam Beck says that for his family, Semper Fi isn’t just a fancy slogan. It’s a way of life.

“My father retired from the Marine Corps in the ’90s, after serving over 20 years on more than one tour of duty in a combat zone. Therefore, my brothers and I grew up in a culture that demanded excellence and loyalty of its members.”

He finds it difficult to understand the mindsets of those who weren’t brought up with such emphasis on fidelity.

“United States Marines are revered for their downright fanatical devotion to each other, their service and their country,” Beck writes. “The phrase is ‘Always faithful.’ It isn’t ‘Sometimes Faithful.’ Nor is it ‘Usually Faithful,’ but always. It is not negotiable. It is not relative, but absolute. . . . Marines are imbued with Semper Fidelis, and all it means, and because they lived it for so long, they have difficulty accepting any less from others.”*

On Wednesday, our country will honor the former members of every branch of the US military: Army, Air Force, Navy, and Marines. Let’s not forget the work of the US Coast Guard, either.

It doesn’t matter when or where they served, from the shores of Iwo Jima to the jungles of Vietnam to the sands of the Middle East. These veterans showed us what faithfulness is all about.

Take time to reflect on their sacrifice and service and what it meant to our country—and what it means to you. Send a card to a veteran you know and express your appreciation for his or her service. Better yet, take him or her out for lunch.

I’m proud to say my family has served in all branches of the US military: my father, Army; my father-in-law, Navy; my brother, Air Force; my husband, the Marines.

My only hope is that my own life will reflect the high standards of the veterans I’ve known.

Semper Fi.

Dear God, thank You for the men and women who have selflessly given of themselves to serve our country. May their sacrifices not be forgotten, and may they receive the honor they deserve. Amen.

Special-Tea: 2 Timothy 4:1–8

*“The Meaning of Semper Fidelis,” by Cam Beck.

In a pickle

I was pushed back and about to fall, but the LORD helped me. The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation. – Psalm 118:13–14 (NIV)

Have you ever been in a pickle?

I’m sure you have. There isn’t a human being on this earth that’s never been in a difficult situation with seemingly no way out.

Now, that’s funny expression—“in a pickle.” Not funny in a humorous way, but in a strange way. Where did these sayings come from, anyway?

Shakespeare coined the phrase “in a pickle” in 1611 in his play The Tempest when Alonso asked Trincolo, “How camest thou in this pickle?” To which Trincolo replied, “I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last.”

Sometimes we get ourselves in pickles of our own makings (which probably birthed still another expression, “You made your bed, so lie on it.”). Other times our pickles are caused by situations over which we have no control.

Take David, for example. Plucked out of the peaceful pasture, where he watched over his father’s sheep, he was plopped down in a plush palace, where he strummed his harp to soothe a distraught king. All too soon, however, he found himself huddling in a cave, hiding from a jealous, insecure, power-hungry monarch who wanted to kill him.

This pickle David found himself in was not of his own making. He didn’t ask to be anointed king of Israel, and he didn’t plan to wrest the kingship from Saul.

Yet God called him from the sheepfold to the palace, then led him to the caves of Palestine for a reason.

A young lad was anointed king. By the time Saul was killed in battle, David was a man, known for his strength of character and honor. His courage in battle, shrewdness with his enemies, loyalty to his men (and to the man who was trying to kill him), kindness to the displaced, and faithfulness to God marked him as a man worthy to lead a country. The qualities strengthened while he was a fugitive in the wilderness sustained him throughout his reign.

His pickle done him good.

I’ve been in a few pickles myself over the course of my life, some of my own making, some not. Like David, I’ve learned that this isn’t always a bad place to be.

Pickling is a process during which something is transformed from the outside in by soaking it for a period of time in vinegar and salt. Flavor and texture are changed by the brine, and those qualities are preserved.

My pickles done me good. Even the ones I got myself into.

That’s because I learned to turn my pickles over to God and let Him do the work of the brine.

And when the brine’s the strongest, I find myself turning to the psalms David wrote. They chronicle his transformation from green cucumber to tasty pickle and give us a glimpse into a heart that God called after His own. In the first part of the psalm, David pours out his troubles to God. Then, about halfway through, his tone changes—with one little word, “but.” I call it “The But Factor.” (Read them—you’ll see what I mean.)

In spite of the pickles he found himself in, David affirmed his faith and trust in a God who would answer him when he called, who would make certain that good won over evil.

Are you in a pickle?

Remember the words of someone who found himself in pickle after pickle after pickle, even after he became king: “In my distress I called to the LORD; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears” (Psalm 18:6).

Still in a pickle after you’ve prayed?

Think of the years David spent as a fugitive before he became king, and don’t fret about it. You still need more time in the brine.

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise him, my help and my God (Psalm 42:5). Thank you, God, for the pickles I find myself in because I know they are what You use to transform me from the outside in. Amen.

Special-Tea: Psalm 118