Anne

The Stick-up, Stuck-up Story

By Jessie A. Lee

  The first time I remember having to stand by myself in front of a host of friends, and say “no” was when I was eleven years old.
     Having been homeschooled my first six grades, private Christian school atmosphere was new to me.  Shy, but a very black-and-white thinker, I was rather overwhelmed at the worldly-minded, smooth-tongued, and wealthy young people in the seventh grade, which were mostly a year older than me.  (I began to learn to read at age four, so I was a grade ahead.)  I was used to being alone, although I didn’t always like the loneliness; now I was swamped with young people of a similar age, every day, for hours on hours.  I had to make decisions I never dreamed of making.  I had to answer questions I would never have thought up myself.  I had to deal with situations which, for a girl raised in a Bible-based family of discipline, I never thought existed.
     For instance, I thought everyone simply included the odd girl, like I had been trained to do.  In my grade was a shy, thin girl named Addy.  She had pretty blond hair and blue eyes; and she was very quiet.  She and I were the “new kids on the block,” and had to fight our way into acceptance.  The others in my grade included a girl who was quite popular—although she was not pretty, she had money and she was athletic.  All the girls wanted to be like her.  She came up to me the first day and generously welcomed me to the class.  I answered with a simple, honest, “Thank you,” which was much more basic and un-awed than she was used to receiving.
     From that time on it was trouble with…we’ll call her Lana.  I didn’t kiss her feet; I tried to treat everyone equally, like Jesus did, with His love.  I didn’t try to be “on top”—that wasn’t my plan for life.  I studied with zeal, because I loved to learn, and because I wanted Jesus to be pleased with everything I did, especially since I was a new, excited Christian.  That didn’t set well with Lana.  Most of the time she simply ignored me.  But sometimes I’d catch a catty remark from her direction.  
     I made friends with the “out kids”—Addy, a high school girl named “KC,” Colton, and Danny.  Often I would take turns between them (for some reason they never meshed well when I wasn’t around), and take walks, help them study or talk to them.  Having been the butt of jokes many times before, I understood how much it hurt to feel like you “weren’t there.”  I also thought of how often Jesus felt like that, so He adopted the publicans and sinners.
     In Lana’s in-crowd was a girl named Libby.  She was not a very pretty girl either, not very smart, and not athletic.  I think Lana adopted her as her “charity waif.”  Anyway, Libby took a liking to me.  I remember many times when she would sneak away from Lana to ask me timidly, “Jessie, what do you think of this?”  I would answer her the best I could, quoting Bible verses I had memorized.  “What makes you act the way you do?” she asked once.  “Well, it’s because I belong to Jesus, and I only do what He would do,” I answered.  “You are Jesus?” she said, her eyes huge, for she very earnestly meant the question.  “No, I am not.  He tells me what to do in the Bible.  Do you read the Bible?” I asked.  “Sometimes.  But I don’t understand it.”  “You can,” I said.  “Ask Jesus to forgive you of your sins; then the Holy Spirit will come to live inside you, and He will teach you to understand it.”
     Lana saw the interactions between her protégé and me; and was instantly jealous.  Also, the other students from the whole 7th to 9th grade discovered I liked to sing, and knew how. All of a sudden I found myself swamped with fellow students who stopped me in the hall, asking me to sing for them.  Lana saw her fan crowd suddenly taking a dive towards me.  She figured the best way to gain back her crowd was by acting nice and humble and then making a stab in a place she thought was tender.  So…
     One day, walking outside toward music class, I was wrapped up in a confused mixture of bewilderment, disgust, uneasiness, pleasant surprise and gratitude for the wave of popularity so recently dumped on me. All I ever wanted to do was sing for Jesus, to encourage others—why was everyone acting so strange about it? Crossing to my place, I saw Libby making rapid steps my way.  Sitting directly in front of me, she scribbled a note and shoved it back to me just as the teacher turned her back.  I was baffled when I read it.  “Do you like Colton? Circle yes or no.  Would you say yes if he asked you on a date? Circle yes or no.”
     My head spun.  A date?  At twelve years old?  What in the world could Libby be thinking of?  I didn’t plan to date anyone until I turned 17, if I knew anyone decent enough to date by that time.  Besides…dating meant marriage, and what would a girl of twelve want with such a serious thing as marriage?  Of course every girl thinks about it…but why so seriously, now?
     This was just one of the ridiculous potshots which Lana set up to “trap” me.  The constant bombardment of immodesty in dress and actions, swearing, flirting, pleasure- and thrill-seeking put a very heavy burden of temptation and grief on my young heart.
Children always mimic their parents.  That is exactly what was going on in the adult realm.
     All my teachers were fond of me.  I worked hard; and although I was often too exhausted to get straight “A’s”, I very often managed “B’s”.  I enjoyed helping them clean up their classrooms, looked after the younger children on the playground, made sure anyone needed help who was in trouble, and tried to serve Jesus in any way I could.  However, when they also tried to turn me against my parents’ teachings, I was aghast.
In chapel one morning, a song affronted me.  Everyone clapped and raised their hands, yelling out, “I love bananas, I love hamburgers and I love Jesus too!”  The blasphemy insulted me.  Christians…singing this?  I refused to sing.  The teacher caught my eye and looked at me sternly.  I stared back.  I would not sing that song.  It would be like saying to the One who died for me, “You’re really no more important to me than my favorite food.  I love you when I want You the most, but You don’t make any difference to me the rest of the time.”
     I also had an outright argument with my science teacher about the origin of man.  The CHRISTIAN textbook placed man into the animal kingdom.  I raised my hand.  “Miss Oliver,” I said, “the textbook is wrong.  The Bible says that man was created in God’s image.  We are not animals.”  She laughed and tried to push it aside.  So I pulled my Bible out of my desk, flipped through and with Jesus giving me words to say, respectfully gave her a thorough argument.  Of course this was not flattering to Miss Oliver, who had just drawn out a beautiful illustration of the animal kingdom on the blackboard, complete with man, cousin of the ape.
     The last day at school, several girls were chasing me through the halls, taunting me.  “Jessie, you’ve got to say yes or no, you really do.  See, you always say yes or no.  You always know your own mind.  You never have a moment’s doubt about what you think.  So just say it!” They were laughing, pushing me down the stairs.  “No,” I said firmly.  “I will not give you a final answer until I’ve talked to my parents about it.  Thank you.”  “Jessie!  Jessie!  Jessie!” they shouted, louder and louder, for I was not listening.  I was simply walking very fast to my father’s classroom.
     My mother came out just in time.  “This is not necessary.  We do not allow taunting or anything of the kind on this school,” she said.  (She worked in the office at the time; my father’s low wages necessitated that she attempt to supplement the income.)
     The period of time I was there at that “Christian” school convinced me of two things: that not all who call themselves Christians actually are (you must judge them by their fruits as Jesus said), and that it’s better to stand up for the Saviour who died for you, being the only one in the crowd to say “no,” even if it means everyone turns tail against you.  I would rather hear, “Well done, Thou good and faithful servant,” and have eternal peace, joy and safety in Heaven, than all the friends in the world to go to hell with. It isn't stuck up to do it.  It's simply called loyalty to the one you love most, Jesus. Joining the ones who are willing to stand alone for Jesus enables us to be strong against temptation.  It also adds more fuel to the fire for the gospel work, so that everyone can see a bright light for Jesus!
     “Judge me, O Lord; for I have walked in mine integrity: I have trusted also in the Lord; therefore shall I not slide. Examine me, O Lord, and prove mine eyes: and I have walked in Thy truth.  For Thy lovingkindness is before mine eyes: and I have walked in Thy truth.  I have not sat with vain persons, neither will I go in the dissemblers.  I have hated the congregation of evildoers; and will not sit with the wicked.  I will wash mine hands in innocency; so will I compass Thine altar, O Lord: that I may publish with the voice of thanksgiving, and tell of all Thy wondrous works.  Lord, I have loved the habitation of Thy house, and the place where Thine honour dwelleth.” Ps. 26

Do you know, the home is a perfect place to show whether or not you are living for Jesus.  It's like a hothouse; every trait you own in your character, every habit, everything is enhanced to such a degree that you must consciously decide that the heat of dealing with the same people every day is going to make you beautiful instead of zapping you.
     A Christian home is an absolutely beautiful thing to have.  I'll share just a few snatches from a book that blessed me (for any who follow my page you'll remember this lady mentioned a lot).  Patricia St. John's parents loved each other from the very first.  Her father was a quiet, gentle person who loved to study the word of God.  He fell in love with his wife when she was three years old, and he was 15.  What he saw was what she would become--his hummingbird.  His song, his perfect complement in every way.  He was rather serious.  She was ridiculously humorous.  He was slow and deliberate.  She was fast and efficient.  He tended to get discouraged with himself very easily.  She had perfect confidence in him, and when she didn't she simply pointed him to Jesus.  He was a dreamer; she was a very practical person, and put his sermons into shoe leather, down to the very basic level of children.  On the other hand, she tended to be rather skeptical of people.  He tempered this with mercy.  She was strong-minded and firm.  He was gentle.  She was determined to plunge ahead in a businesslike manner with life.  He took time to enjoy her laughter and the children's pranks, while still maintaining perfect order.
     What they shared was the pure, untarnished love of Jesus Christ: for each other and for others.  Their home was always the shelter of the helpless and homeless--Patricia's mother made sure of that.  Her mother took tea time with each of her children personally; her father took his daughters out on little dates and his sons on excursions, both carefully slipping in those nuggets of golden truth from the Bible, and backing them up with their love and life.  Both parents had an overwhelming passion for reaching out to lost souls--they were so happy in the love of Jesus, that they longed for every single person on earth to know it also.
     So...the father, finding early that raising children in primitive conditions was bad on their health, was forced to go out alone, and leave his wife and children at home, while he served abroad...However.  His wife prayed for him every single moment, never complaining, simply telling him over and over how she loved him, exhorting him to be strong and of good courage, and giving him the simple support he needed, which fueled his efforts and brought many to Jesus.  She meanwhile prayed at every child's bedside, and dedicated them, like Hannah, to the work of the Lord on the mission field.  His preaching and beautiful love of people and life produced many children into the Kingdom of Jesus Christ...and all their children grew up with the same missionary burden.
    Their oldest son was a surgeon. Patricia was a nurse.  Together they served in Morocco, and depended all their lives on both the prayer exemplified by their mother, and the devotion which was practiced and displayed by their father.  All the others as well had a consuming love of Jesus and others, and all became well-used vessels for Him.
One particular example is found in Patricia's writings of her brother Farnham's home, so very like their own growing up years:
     "Farnham and Janet's six children were a continual source of occupation and pleasure.  Soon after he married, Farnham decided to build his own house, with much local help.  It was a stone's throw from the nurses' home and was at the bottom of the hospital compound, a small house on the clifftop with large windows looking directly across the Strait of Gibraltar...This house became a center for Moroccan Christians, medical students, visitors of many nationalities, hippies in distress, the sick and needy of every description.  In the middle of all this the children grew up (also with a good deal of local help).  They have turned out to be loving and caring people and look back to that crowded little house with nostalgic pleasure...Do children suffer from a life less materially comfortable and with fewer 'things' than they would have...?  Are they adversely affected by the busy lives their parents often lead, a house open to visitors of every kind...? Are parents justified in subjecting their children to such a life?  From my own observation I would say that on the whole these children do not suffer, provided that special times of privacy with their parents are strictly kept.  Having less in material realm is probably a good thing; little treats and gifts are more precious...There is also the education of mixing with other cultures and nationalities; life abroad is colorful, unconventional, and seldom boring..The experience, too, that early sense of family unity, as they see their parents' interests largely narrowed down to the purpose for which they came to the land of their calling (ie, to preach the gospel), often linked with relief of suffering or providing educational facilities...The coming of a soul to Jesus is rejoiced over together; the plight of another less fortunate child is a shared subject of prayer and caring.  Of course there are casualties--some rebel in their early teenage years and try out a different lifestyle, seeking their own philosophy of life.  But, as the years pass, life without Christ can be a soul-hungry, disappointing affair, and they will never quite forget that 'in my Father's house there was bread enough to spare...'  Also, as with all children of Christian parents, there are those strong, invisible cords of love and prayer drawing them back to their true resting place. 'It is not His will that one of these little ones should perish.'  'This is the will of God, even your sanctification.'  'If we ask anything according to His will, He heareth us.'...I believe that a simple Christian home uncluttered by foreign gadgets, where husband and wife love and honor each other and where happy children are brought up in the nurture and fear of the Lord and where the doors are ever open to welcome all who come whatever their race, class or creed, is a very real lighthouse in a dark land.  Perhaps there is no greater witness to Christian unity than a truly Christian home."--An Ordinary Woman's Extraordinary Faith: The Autobiography of Patricia St. John, Patricia Mary St. John
     I agree.  "Greater love hath no man than this: that a man lay down his life for his friend."  Husbands and wives are not simply pleasure horses--they are supposed to be friends.  Soulmates.  Fellow-laborers.  The Scripture says that men should lift up holy hands in prayer, without wrath or doubting, and should love his wife, as the weaker vessel, and yet also as a fellow-heir to the kingdom of God.  The wife in like manner should be daughters of Sarah, who show respect by modestly covering herself with both a godly life and modest, complimentary clothing; keeping the home a little haven for her husband and any who would come. Both should be so confident in the Lord's and each other's love and faithfulness, that their hearts may safely trust each other, and they will do each other good and not evil all the days of their lives.  (Study Proverbs 31; 1Tim. 2; Titus 3; Ephesians 4)
     I will close with a quote from my favorite Christian novel, which, is a sweet story of true love (entitled: Nest Among the Stars, by Louise Harrison McCraw): " [John said] 'He might have chosen a more polished instrument but He didn't.  He chose me.  One thing I do know and that is that in all the world there is not another person who so clearly understood what the message was [of my writing] and therefore was able to enter into the spirit of it as you did.  You were always in tune.  The Holy Spirit spoke to your spirit as He did to mine.  The result was unity...'
     '...God is giving me so much, it overwhelms me.  Oh, John, if I should ever forget to be humble, make me remember!'
     'If I forget--'
     'You are always humble.  The great are.  It's those who bask in the shadow of greatness who aren't.'
     'You are what I want, all I want..Our spirits will be together through eternity.  If all marriages were founded on love like ours...'
     '...It reminds me of the infinite source of all your strength.  It reminds me that all we can ever do is to depend on Him moment by moment to do things for us, to do things through us.'
     'That reminds me of the message He gave me this morning as I read.  That promise, No good thing will He withhold from them that walk uprightly, has always been very precious to me, but I was never able to get just the definition for "walk uprightly" that satisfied me.  This morning just after I read it, these words came to me: Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith; and I knew right then that to walk uprightly was to walk with our eyes on Him.  You know how erect you are when you are looking up at something.  In just that way we unconsciously walk uprightly when we are looking up at Him.'
     'Dearest, pray that I'll keep my eyes on Him so I can claim that promise.'
     '...I can trust you for anything!...I've been thinking Miriam,' he said finally, 'of how unworthy I am of your love.  That seems a trite thing to say.  It's a self-evident fact, I know.  I don't know how to write love stories, or love letters, or even to talk love...All I can do is to stand speechless before God in the presence of His greatest human gift to me.'
     'How many times do I have to tell you, John, that I'm only subsidiary to you? You paint the picture.  I wash the brushes.'
     'It is not so.  You put in the details which clutch at the heart.  You put on the gloss.  You wind up things.'
     'There's no use to argue with you.  I saw a quotation the other day to the effect that great men are usually fools, and I'm beginning to believe it.'

This is the best explanation of love I've come across yet.  How is it that Christians don't get it very often?
"I love you" does not mean you are going to use the person you told that to for your own benefit and dump them.  It doesn't mean running around with your favorite girlfriend or boyfriend.  It doesn't mean flowers on mother's day or a tie on father's day.  It doesn't mean a kiss in the moonlight.  It doesn't mean a great big hug every time you see someone.
Love is much more than that.  It's commitment.  If you say "I love you" it means "I promise that from this day on I am going to walk by your side forever."  If you contradict that promise...God does not take that lightly.  Because suddenly you've promised that person to love them with His love...His love that died for our sake and rose again.  Jesus never physically said "I love you" that I know of.  (You can correct me if you find the Bible verse.)  He lived it.
The Good Samaritan, and the woman who washed Jesus' feet with her tears and hair are two of the best illustrations for love in the New Testament.  (Read Luke 10:25-35 and chapter 7:36-50)
So...what's the popular version of love, really?  It's lust.  Lust is the worst form of selfishness.  It is the opposite of love--it is hatred, because lust destroys.
You can't love by yourself.  You need the fountain of love to do it for you and in you.  Jesus Christ.

"Love, Jewish Style"
By Ahuva Bloomfield

Hebrew, as one may know, is considered by the Bible to be the first language. It is the language through which God spoke in creating the world. Hence, Hebrew was not just created by God, but utilized by God in creating the world. Much wisdom is attributed to the words and letters in the Hebrew language. 
Understanding the concepts that are invested in words can aid us in our own lives. As an interesting example, the word "love" which is thrown about so freely in English, has a special meaning in Hebrew. Love in Hebrew is "Ahava",  which is made up of three basic Hebrew letters, . These three letters actually are broken down into two parts: a two letter base or root, and the first letter, , which is a modifier. The meaning of the two letter base, is "to give". The letter "aleph" , which precedes these two letters comes to modify the meaning of the base word, "give". The meaning of , is "I give" and also "love".
We now see the connection between the two words, "I give" and "love". Love is giving. Now only is love giving, but the actual process of giving develops the very connection between the giver and the receiver. There is no greater giving than that of a husband and wife. Each one gives to the other. The more giving that one does, the greater is the connection.
Why?
The process of giving is a vehicle through which the giver through his act of giving is able to, through a physical gift (or even a verbal comment), give of himself to another. This act of giving something is not merely helping another. For sure, giving is helping another, but it is much more than that. Giving is a method that enables us to make a connection to another. When we give to another, that which we give to him/her, could have been utilize to further our own self. In stead, we choose to take this object, which could have been utilized for our own needs and instead, use it for someone else.
Giving is a condition that creates and sustains love. With out giving, there is no connection that is sustaining.
The true relationships that our meaningful in our lives are those in which mutual giving takes place. The giving may be physical, emotional, intellectual or a combination. But with out giving from ourselves, no relationship can be enduring.
That is the secret of love that is revealed to us by the Hebrew language. This is the secret that is invested in the language by the Creator.
~~~~~~~
from the April 1999 Edition of the Jewish Magazine