The 12-year-old looked at him and said, “Wait a minute, you mean you are going to invite people to your wedding and bring you gifts, and you’re going to take up an offering too?”

I remember a line from a Tom Clancy novel (I don’t remember which one): “Averages are made up of highs and lows.” These low times are just part of averaging everything out.

I’d like to hope things will turn around soon, but after 365 days, “soon” has become harder to define. I know that we will be okay. No… better than okay.

Recently, in my Bible reading time I find myself drawn to reading about the Exile period in Israel’s history. It’s become so personal to me as I have read the different accounts. I have imagined what it was like for those who were dragged off to Babylon, and I have wondered about those who were left to stay. Neither group of people “had it made”. Both faced their own desolations, just of different sorts.

For 47 years, neither group saw the other.

For 47 years, each either longed for the blessed City of Jerusalem (City of Peace) or lived among its ruins.

For 47 years, God was silent.

In the 48th year, Ezra was given permission by Artaxerxes, the Babylonian king, to return to Jerusalem and begin the restoration of the city. Ezra writes about the journey back: “I assembled the exiles at the Ahava (Hebrew for “love”) Canal, and we camped there for three days while I went over the lists of the people and the priests who had arrived. I found that not one Levite had volunteered to come along.” (Ezra 8: 15).

It’s easy to miss the significance of this because, in the previous 14 verses, he just got done listing all of the people who returned with him. You’re beginning to nod off. But then that simple, arresting sentence.

The Levites were the tribe and people responsible for the service of the Tabernacle and of the Temple. This was the chance for the rebuilding of the Temple – sanctioned by the king, no less – yet not one Levite had chosen to go back. Ezra had to go find some.

What must have happened in the lives of all of these men over those 48 years to drive out this God-given historical duty, down to the man, from their lives? It causes such imaginations in me.

It is said that “God uses your misery to become your ministry”. This is not a ministry I would have chosen for us, but I pray that we will be faithful. I also pray it doesn’t take 47 more years.

We have been encouraged and supported by so many people, in so many ways, over the past 365 days. Some of it we know about. Some of it we can only feel.

We are a blessed people.

It’s been an amazing year.

“We left the Love Canal to travel to the City of Peace. God was with us all the way, and kept us safe, and we arrived ….”
Ezra 8: 31-32

But I did not know the story behind it, until I went searching for an MP3 of it to buy. Although an individual MP3 is n’ere on impossible to find – and I haven’t found a good one I like yet – the author, Martha Butler, now retired and living in North Carolina, has put up a website, and tells how she came to write it. Fascinating. But God is like that.

In 1974, my husband and I were members of a Christian community at St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church in Houston, Texas. Sometime earlier in that year I had begun to follow the lectionary of the church and to use the assigned New Testament lesson as a springboard for meditation each day. One Saturday in August, the given lesson was Luke 8:40. Now having grown up in the Presbyterian Church, I was a relatively new Episcopalian, unfamiliar with at least one particular Episcopalian convention: when the lectionary table listed one Bible verse rather than a range of verses, the reader was intended to begin at that verse and continue to the end of the chapter. In my ignorance I read only, “Now when Jesus returned, the crowd welcomed him, for they were all waiting for him.” I was mystified as to why the church had selected such a mundane statement to be the inspirational message for the day. Accepting the idea that surely there must have been a reason, I asked the Lord to speak to me and teach me. Later that morning my mind wandered back to that singularly unremarkable sentence over and over.

Through the day I found myself imagining what it must have been like to have been a part of the crowd waiting for Jesus:

Eager anticipation . . . respite from burdensome daily chores . . . cool shady roadside . . . amiable chatter . . . dogs barking . . . steadily climbing sun . . . laughing neighbors . . . waiting . . . hunger . . . bread and wine shared with friends . . . idle talk . . . waiting . . . drowsiness . . . heat and dust . . . cross words, soothing words, gossipy news . . . aching legs, tired neck, sweaty jostling shoulders . . . children running and shouting . . . waiting . . . wondering what will he be like?  what will he say?  what will he do?  will he have time for me? . . .waiting . . . until finally far up the road a shout goes up and we know he’s coming! . . . straining on tiptoe to see, and at last . . . he is here.

This exercise of imagination led me to draw parallels between that long-ago crowd and our life together as a Christian community. I came in touch with renewed feelings of anticipation and reverence. As I prepared to go to our regular Saturday evening community gathering, I felt buoyed up and expectant, eager to meet the Lord in prayer and worship among his people. During the time set aside for communal prayer, I began to hear the song “Alleluia, He Is Coming”. I listened to the lovely melody and words and then I felt the Lord was asking me to sing it aloud. With mouth clamped shut, I said, “Lord, you know me. I’ve been told I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. I wouldn’t venture to sing a song I knew well alone, much less one I’ve never heard before!”

That night at home I did gather enough courage to share what had happened with my husband. Because of his encouragement, I shared the song several days later with two of my closest friends. One of them went to the piano and asked me to sing it again. Soon the three of us were singing it together. My friends also encouraged me and promised to sing the song with me at the next community meeting. The following Saturday night, before we had reached the middle of the second chorus, the entire community was singing “Alleluia, He Is Coming.”

Since then, the song has found a frequent place among the wealth of beautiful songs given and shared in the richness of the Lord’s Spirit. The blessing it brought St. Matthew’s community has spread through the wide-reaching lives and ministries of those who were gathered together on that summer Saturday night. People have written from all over this country as well as Canada, England, South Africa, Norway, New Zealand, and Australia to say that they have been enriched by the song. I can only say in quiet awe and wonder that in spite of my ignorance and timidity, the Lord gently used me as a vessel for his Spirit. He continues to teach me that his is the wisdom and power. All he requires of us is to listen and receive and then share his Spirit with each other. Alleluia, he is coming. Alleluia, he is here.

Martha Butler,
November 17, 1987

More and more, people are opting out of a home phone/land line system altogether. I thought about that too. We have 5 cell phones – and the bills that go along with them – so do we really need a home phone? The fact is, you never know where a person is when you call them on a cell phone. They may be at home. But they may be at a movie, too. What if grandma is calling and wants to talk to the grandkids? Do you want her to have to call three different numbers to be able to talk with everybody?

We have had two telephone numbers for 25 years. Early on, I used the one number to give to clients to call me, and the other was our private number, that we only gave to family and friends. The first time a client called our home number at midnight, I ordered our second line the next day. Phone lines were very expensive back then, in the last century. But it had other benefits as well. Telemarketers called the extra number, but pretty much left our personal number alone. When we got our first Internet account in 1994 (Compuserve), it was nice to use that line for our 2400 kbps modem. The justification for a second line always seemed to be there. Plus, it was a business write-off, so it wasn’t as expensive.

Verizon

Fast forward to 2009. We got our Verizon FIOS line in March 2008. Because we signed up for a two-year commitment, we couldn’t drop our Verizon phone service until the two years were up. I could have downsized to a different, less expensive service, but then the 2-year clock would start over, and I had other plans. I had already decided in early 2009 to switch to Ooma. But we had to wait for March 13 to come and we could make our change.

Vonage

I had switched our second “public” line to Vonage about 8 years ago. At the time, it was $15/month (plus taxes), and it seemed okay. I was regularly frustrated by Vonage’s outages, especially with their voicemail system. But they had changed the billing on this so that it was now almost $24 per month, after all of the fees and taxes were added in. So, between the two providers and two phone numbers, we were spending almost $75 per month for the two numbers.

magicJack

I should also mention that I bought a magicJack about a year ago, while I was researching Ooma. It was immediately obvious that this would not work as our home phone number system. Who wants to dedicate a 24/7 laptop to running your phone line? But I also wanted a phone number (other than my cell) that I could take with me anywhere, and mJ fits that bill. Sometimes I want to be able to call people and not let them have my cell phone number. I have a GrandCentral number (now GoogleVoice) and see all sorts of good possibilities here. My mJ is up for renewal ($20 for 1 year or $60 for 5 years) and I think I will just let it lapse and use my GoogleVoice account for these purposes.

But I will also say that I loaned my mJ to a friend who was going on a European cruise. He used it from the ship (via the Internet connection) and from hotels (via those Internet connections) and was able to call back to the States for free each time. As he said, he would have saved $20 (the cost of the mJ for the first year) just in the first 5 minute phone call he made from the ship.

Enter Ooma

In January, I bought our Ooma system on Amazon because they still had a few of the original systems (Hub & Scout, which allows connections for two phones) available for about $220. The new Ooma Telo system is about $250, and only allows one phone to connect. You can port your existing phone number(s) for a one-time $35 fee. After that, you’re done with paying anything for your phone service. Ever. Just keep your Internet connection, and you have your phone number. [Update: They are running a special for a $100 Hub. This is what you need to get started with your line and one phone; then you add Scout(s) for your additional phones.]

But if you go with their Premier Service – at $120 per year – you get the number porting for free, plus you get a second line for free. You get all kinds of other bells-and-whistles with the Premier Account also, so it is well worth it. So here was the breakdown for us:

Before Ooma: $888 / year
$600 for Verizon ($50 per month X 12 months) – Line 1
$288 for Vonage ($24 per month X 12 months) – Line 2

After Ooma: $120 / year
Premier Service annual fee

Setup was very easy.

We are running a 25Mbps/25Mbps Verizon FIOS line because of the 7 computers we have going at once, not to mention the media streaming that we are doing (hulu, Netflix, Grooveshark, etc.). The voice quality is very good. And the features are just awesome. For example, you can setup a list of numbers to perform certain functions any time that number calls, like:

• Always send them to voicemail, automatically.
• Play the “This number is no longer in service” recording
• Make it just ring and ring and ring and ring (never going to voicemail)

All of that is cool. And useful. But the feature I am most looking forward to is the feature that started it all, and why I settled on Ooma: Quality voice system for almost $800 per year less than I was paying last year at this time.

Our 10-year-old must have overheard that because last night, after I finished my prayers with him and it was his turn to pray, we had this conversation:

Him: I have a question.

Me: What’s that?

Him: Is Pap Pap ever going to get to the point where he thinks he’s George Washington?

But I was also struck by this kind of inter-dependency:

3 Trust in the LORD
4 Delight yourself in the LORD
5 Commit your way to the LORD
7 Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him
34 Wait for the LORD and keep his way
39 The salvation of the righteous comes from the LORD

I’m still processing all of this. But I wanted to write this down, almost as a bookmarker, before I get too far along.

Once more, I learn more from my kids than they from me

My daughter’s all-time favorite actor is Tony Shalhoub. He is staring in a limited engagement production of “Lend Me A Tenor” in March and April. Since it is her 18th birthday this year, we wanted to surprise her with tickets (in the second row!) to one of the preview performances. I wanted to keep it a secret until two days before, but my wife wanted to tell her early, so she could be prepared, buy a nice outfit, etc. It is very true that our daughter doesn’t like surprises. But I also think mom was having a hard time keeping it in.

A few minutes later, our two youngest boys (David, 15; and Samuel, 10) withdrew to the family room to play a game together. As their sister walked into the room, Samuel looked up and said to her, “I don’t get it. Our money is tight, but they keep doing nice things for us. We had salmon tonight for dinner. They gave you a ticket to a Broadway play. And they did that nice thing for David the other night.”

“They didn’t do anything nice for me the other night,” David countered.

“Well, then,” Samuel replied, “your turn is next.”

I like this on so many levels, not the least of which being an economy where frozen salmon, bought on sale, is equal to a Broadway play.

I also like the inherent sense of fairness which simply believes that when something good hasn’t happened yet, it just means it will happen soon.

And I very much like the mystery of nice things happening even in challenging times.

[D]on’t you allow what’s happened to this point to lie to you about what’s coming ahead of you. We get stuck on the things we’ve lost. We get stuck on the things that aren’t working, rather than God saying, “Hey, if I said I’m going to give you Canaan, Canaan’s coming your way!”

– Paul de Jong, Life Church / New Zealand

In Spirit and In truth