Posted in spiritual, Thoughts from the Word

From a Mold or Molded?

When I was a pre-teen, I was introduced to ceramics.  My sister-in-law’s mother had a ceramics shop in her garage with a kiln, and every so often, she would let me and Vivian (my sister-in-law’s sister) do ceramics.  One of the things we did was pour liquid into a form, let it set, then remove the mold, scrape off the seams, then it would be dried in the kiln.  After the drying, we could paint it however we wished.  And it was fun!  Vivian and I could pick the same exact object, and it would be unique only due to how we chose to paint our same exact object…  On the other hand, pottery is hand formed from a lump of clay, on a potter’s wheel.  The value of piece of pottery depends on the skill of the potter.

This comparison hit me while I was driving down the road.

How often as a Christian, do we consider ourselves “ceramic.”  You’re a bowl, I’m a bowl, he’s a bowl, she’s a bowl… we are just decorated differently.  But I think that we would be better served to think of ourselves as pottery.  Each one of us hand crafted with love and great skill by the Master Potter.  My value has nothing to do with your value.  Your value has nothing to do with mine.  Our value is solely dependent on the One who made us, and the fulfilling of the task we were created for.

Isaiah 64:8 (KJV) “But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter, and we all are the work of thy hand.”

Sometimes I find myself looking around at my co-workers.  I am so blessed to be surrounded by amazing nurses.  Sometimes I find myself feeling bad that I can’t contribute what someone else does, and in the mentality of “I’m a ceramic mold” I find myself down and doubting my vocation.  When I remember that I am “pottery” I am able to place into perspective my calling, and just DO what I’m able to do.  My part is valuable.  Your part is valuable.
This realization of being pottery should also affect how I judge another.  I cannot hold someone to MY gifts and abilities, we are not poured out of the same mold.  We are each uniquely designed for God’s purposes.  Each one of us needs to be concerned with our own relationship with the potter and the tasks He has created for us specifically to fulfill.
Posted in people, spiritual, Uncategorized

Influence

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These two.  I can honestly say that these two men were the most influential men in my growing up years.  On the right is my dad, Allen Keifer; on the left is my pastor, Eldon Martens.  These two began a life-long friendship in the early 70’s.  Together, they started Fundamental Baptist Church in Escondido, CA.  The church started in our house in October of 1973, and I’m told one of the Sunday School classes was held in my bedroom!

As I look at this picture (40 years later… gasp), I get a lump in my throat.  These men were consistent.  Consistent in their work ethic, consistent in their outreach, consistent in their ministry, consistent with their families.  When I think of faithful, these two are top of my list.

I think about all the years I sat under the ministry of Pastor Martens.  From the age of 3 I listened.  And I learned.  Parents, please don’t underestimate the influence sitting in “big church” has on your children.  I sat under the gospel and a few months before turning 5 years old, I understood the gospel: that Jesus died on the cross for my sins so that I could go to heaven when I died; and I bowed my head and accepted Jesus as my Savior while my mom sang in choir practice!

Pastor had a way of relating to people.  Even as a small child, I knew I could go up to him and talk to him and he would stop everything and listen.  I remember getting a Bible as a gift.  I wanted to show it to him.  He stopped what he was doing and prayed with me that the Bible would be important to me and that I would read it every day.

I remember so many Sunday nights when “the whole church” would congregate at our house for my mom’s pancakes.  (I’m not certain how many people that was, especially in the early days).  I’m thankful that my “culture” was my church.  I grew up in the culture of the church as family.  We kids of the church played together, fought together, sang together, went to school together.  Church was a major influence.  And why?  because my parents made it important.  They made sure I was influenced by godly people.  They made sure I was sitting under the preaching; and you know what?  they made sure I was behaving myself so that I would not be a distraction to anyone in the service who needed to hear the gospel (how’d they do that, you might ask… Well, it had to do with going outside and my mom’s shoe… and as my dad would say, maybe some “weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth”)

My dad was a man of faith.  He was a man who gave.  SO MUCH.  He was of those secret givers, secret influencers.  We didn’t know half of what he did until his funeral and people started talking about it.

In the early part of 2011, Pastor Martens passed away and in October of the same year, my dad went home to be with the Lord.  Our families just shook our heads and thought, “Of course.  Those two.  Always did tend to be in the same places at the same time.”  Somehow, it was just RIGHT.

Let me ask you this:  Who will be the most influential people in your childrens’ lives?  I hope my legacy is as powerful.  I hope yours is.

Posted in Random

Hangry

It’s almost 3pm. I’m feeling a teensy bit irritated because since noon I’ve been on a “clear liquid diet”  which is code for water, basically. Human nature being what it is, I (of course) want food. French dip sandwich? Yes, please. Bowl of ice cream? Sure!

Surgery tomorrow. It’s interesting to be on the patient end of this process. The hospital set up a pre-surgery class on what was going to happen, the do’s and dont’s, etc… Of particular interest to me was the blurb on cleaning. They give you a bar of antibacterial soap and tell you to start using it 3 days before surgery. Then they give you a packet of hibiclens to use the night before and the morning of surgery.  This decreases your chance of contracting an infection. Sounds reasonable. Makes me wonder why I’ve had post-surgical patients come in to the ER who are covered in filth? It is a mystery. I guess human nature again.

I’m not nervous, just ready to get this done so I can come home again and grit my teeth through the healing process. Pain meds (narcotics) and I don’t get along.

My friend, Sweet T, gave me some great encouraging words when I cried a little on Saturday due to my concerns for my husband while I’m recovering. This is a surgery that needs to be done, so trust that Ray will have the strength to take care of me and himself and don’t let the devil have any inroads in my life to make me worry. Gotta have FAITH.

Meanwhile, I’ll have faith that I won’t be too cranky to my dear ones as I suffer these hunger pains.