Tag Archives: Stewardship

The Source and the Purpose

The Source and the Purpose (CaD 1 Sam 30) Wayfarer

David replied, “No, my brothers, you must not do that with what the Lord has given us. He has protected us and delivered into our hands the raiding party that came against us. Who will listen to what you say? The share of the man who stayed with the supplies is to be the same as that of him who went down to the battle. All will share alike.”
1 Samuel 30:23-24 (NIV)

This past Sunday afternoon, Wendy and I were blessed to help host over 100 people for a backyard cookout along with one of our backyard neighbors. We grilled up a bunch of burgers and dogs and people brought sides and desserts to share.

Last night our home was invaded by about twenty or so high school sophomores and their three adult leaders. A few weeks ago we were asked if the young people could meet at our house on Wednesday nights during this school year. There was never really any question. We’re glad to have them. Wendy and I stuck around for a bit to be introduced to the kids before we sequestered ourselves. Wendy and I have talked about making Wednesday night a date night with some friends who have also volunteered their house for the Wednesday night youth gatherings.

In today’s chapter, David and his men return to their sanctuary town in Philistine territory having been told to do so by King Achish in yesterday’s chapter. While they were off mustering for battle a raiding party of Amalekites swept through, plundered their town, and burned it to the ground. The Amalekites also took all of their wives and children as captives. The first thing David does is consult the priest, Abiathar, to inquire of God whether they should pursue the raiding party. David is given the green light.

While they are in hot pursuit, about 200 of David’s 600 men become weary and choose to stay behind. The remaining 400 overtake the Amalekites, defeat them and return with everyone’s women, children, and all the plunder the Amalekites had taken on their raids.

At this point, the 400 men who completed the defeat of the Amalekites argue with David that the 200 men who stayed behind should not receive any of the plunder since they didn’t participate in the battle. David’s response is swift and strong. The victory, David says, belongs to the Lord, not to their military prowess. The plunder, therefore, is a gift from God and it is to be shared by everyone. David calls his men to think about their Level Three circumstances with a Level Four perspective.

Along my spiritual journey, I have slowly come to embrace the spiritual reality that everything I have belongs to God. Everything in my “possession” will be abandoned and left behind when this journey is over. Jesus is the Alpha point from which all good things flow and all the good things that have flowed into my life. Jesus is the Omega point to which all good things, including all the good things in my life, will ultimately return. I’m not an owner. I’m a steward. The belief that anything I have is really mine is an illusion.

This is why there was never really any question that Wendy and I would allow our home to be invaded every Wednesday night by a bunch of teenagers. We are so blessed with our house. It’s exceeding, abundantly, beyond what we could have once imagined. The story of building it is a God story that leaves us with no doubt that we were supposed to build it, that we were supposed to use it generously, and with it, we were to practice hospitality. It was built to be used, lived in, and shared.

This morning, in the quiet, I’m thankful for all of the blessings I enjoy including my wonderful home office where I sit and type these words, but I’m also thankful for learning to have perspective about the source of the blessing and what we are to do with it.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

A Lesson in Gratitude

TenLepers

One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. 16 He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.

Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.” Luke 17:15-19 (NIV)

On the refrigerator at our lake house you’ll find some sweet “thank you” notes left by guests. Taylor and her friends used the place for a weekend last month, and when we arrived we found that all them had signed a hand-made and artistic thank you note (and included a bottle of wine with it). My favorites are always the thank you notes left by children. You know that the child’s note was prompted by a mom or dad who was teaching the kid about manners and gratitude, but they are always so endearing.

I have learned so many spiritual lessons by having our little place at the lake. Wendy and I have always had a sense that our job was to steward the place well, and to be generous with it. God has blessed us and we’re paying it forward. What I didn’t expect was the inherent lesson it has been in generosity and gratitude. It’s been fascinating to see how people treat that which is generously given. Some show their respect and gratitude simply by the visible care with which they treat that which is not theirs. Others not only treat things with respect, but also express their gratitude in creative and tangible ways that warm our hearts. Occasionally, a guest will be neither respectful or grateful. What are you gonna do? People are people.

My joy at receiving simple expressions of thanks has really prompted a lot of personal soul searching in recent years. I look back on my journey and realize that, more often than not, I have been like the nine lepers who accepted Jesus’ generous healing but never thought to go back and simply say, “Thank you.” God’s blessing has been so abundant and I have to admit that I’ve been guilty of being neither respectful nor grateful. I now have a greater sense of what Jesus felt when He asked the thankful cleansed leper, “Where are the other nine?” I get it. I don’t ever want to counted among the nine again.

Today, I’m expressing my gratitude for all the ways God has abundantly blessed me and my family.

Chapter-a-Day Psalm 24

1998ish - Clint's room - screens & clutter - 1
1998ish – Clint’s room – screens & clutter – 1 (Photo credit: Rev. Xanatos Satanicos Bombasticos (ClintJCL))

The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.
    The world and all its people belong to him.
Psalm 24:1 (NLT)

My brother has lived what I would describe as a nomadic life. Having spent most of his adult life going to and living where the work is (which for him has been all over the world) he has by necessity scattered the stuff of life around at various places. There are a few things of his that are in my keeping. In some cases, they have been in my keeping a good long while. I use the phrase “In my keeping” deliberately because while they are not mine I am responsible for them while they are with me. In my keeping implies that I’m taking care of them for him.

Ownership and possession are interesting concepts. If you’re like me, you don’t take time to think about them very often. Perhaps it’s because as a people we’ve become so addicted to owning things and possessing things. We enjoy the luxury of ownership for so much that we easily dismiss irresponsibility and as both a right and privilege.

Throughout God’s Message we are reminded that possession and ownership are an illusion of this life. In God’s economy we own nothing. It all belongs to Him – every thing – everything. In God’s economy, I no more own any single thing I possess than my brother’s guitar which is in my keeping. But, like my brother’s guitar, every thing I possess is in my keeping. I am responsible for it.

Today, I’m grateful for all of that God has allowed to me have in my keeping. I am humbled to think how irresponsibly I have handled much of it. I am so blessed that the amount of things in my keeping is almost entirely up to me. I am reminded that the responsibility of having too many things in my keeping can take up so much time, energy and mindshare that I neglect more important, personal and eternal matters of my soul.

A Priceless Gift

12-24-07_1139 Last week, the passage we're studying at church spoke of the hearts of Jesus' disciples being "hardened." That phrase jumped off the page at me, and my quiet prayer all of last week was that God would soften my heart.

On Saturday afternoon, Wendy and I attended the wedding of some friends. As the music swelled and the bride walked down the aisle on her father's arm, I felt strong emotions stirring in me. It was exactly two weeks from the day I would have my eldest, Taylor, on my arm, escorting her down the aisle. As hard as I fought, I couldn't hold back the tears seeping out of the corner of my eyes as I watched the father giving away his daughter.

For the past nineteen years, I think I've had a pretty objective view of my role as father to Taylor and Madison. I realize that my role as daddy has been to instill in them a clear understanding that they are loveable and valuable, and raise them to be capable young women who will walk their own journey faithfully. I realize that God is, ultimately, their Father. I am a steward, blessed with the task of participating in the miracle of their birth, loving them, providing for them, teaching them, and caring for them as they prepare for the day when they head off on the path God has appointed for them.

As I sat in that pew and watched the bride and groom make their vows, my emotions swelled over me like a tidal wave. "I'm not ready to give her away," I thought to myself with sudden realization. This is the most precious gift I could ever give to anyone. Taylor is absolutely priceless, and I'm just going give her away. My brain could argue all it wanted about this being the natural order of things and this being just another waypoint in the journey, but sitting there at the wedding I could feel my heart ripping apart.

Trying desperately to rely on my stoic Dutch genes, I fought back the overwhelming grief in my heart the rest of that day. Evening came, and I couldn't hold it together any longer. The emotional dam burst and I sobbed out my grief on the shoulder of a very surprised and perplexed Wendy.

In the midst of my tears, I was gently reminded of my prayers all that week. My heart of stone had, indeed, been softened so that I could feel this sorrow. "I know," I heard God's Spirit whisper in the midst of my grief, "and now you have a hint of what I felt to give away my Son to a world that would reject and kill him."

The following evening, Taylor and I shared a few tears together as I told her of my experience that week, and my emotions. Despite those feelings, I look forward to this important waypoint in our shared journey. No parent looks back without a few pangs of regret for mistakes made and things left unsaid and undone. Yet, I realize that Taylor was a priceless gift given to my care over nineteen years ago. While my role in her life will never be completely finished, it is time to walk her down the aisle and "give away" that which was given me. Then, to celebrate, love, and support both Taylor and Clayton as they become one flesh and start their journey together.