thy will be done, a supposal

I'm sitting in the subway station. There's been a terrible accident. All the lights are off and it is completely silent. My i-phone won't light up but, fortunately, I can still text in the dark. If you receive this message, please call 911 and tell them to find me. I'm somewhere under New York City in the subway station. I don't know exactly where because I got into an annoying conversation with a woman at 5th and Madison. She was a Christian. They drive me crazy. She sat next to me and smiled, that smug little smile. She was reading C.S. Lewis, the atheist who lost his nerve. I asked her if she was a Christian.

"Yes, I am. Are you?"

"No, religion is a crutch. I want to face reality on my own," I told her.

"Funny," she said,"that's what this author used to think."

"Yeah, I know, he got conned." She needed to hear the truth, poor girl.

"Actually, no. He fought it for years but gave in to reason. He came to faith because he had no other rational choice. He realized that he had spent his life either being mad at God for not being there or mad at God FOR being there. The crux of it all was that he was mad at God because God was real."

"No, it's a wish. We're just a cosmic accident and you're too chicken to accept it."

"No, THAT'S a wish. You do realize that it's easier to believe that we're an accident, and not responsible for anything, right? THAT's the cop-out, not Christianity. And you do realize that there aren't enough numbers to describe the odds of creating a universe like ours by accident, right? "

"Ludicrous," I told her. "Christianity is a farce. A story made up by frightened disciples."

"Really? Then where's the body?"

"The what?"

"The body. If it was a story, it could have easily been quieted by showing the body, something the Romans would have loved to do. The Roman Empire searched far and wide for that body, but they couldn't find it...Why? What if He really did rise from the dead and ascend to Heaven?"

"What? You've got to be kidding."

"Think about it. The Romans were invincible, they could have stopped the Christians...why didn't they? And those frightened disciples became emboldened and wisened and were also put to death...yet they were unafraid. One of Lewis' friends challenged him with this question: What if it really happened? Then what?"

"Well, I don't know. I don't believe in that Heaven and Hell stuff...just a bunch of morality and fear in my opinon."

"Well, if God is real and all good, then the place where He is is going to be all good. That sounds like Heaven to me. And if He is all good, then the place where He isn't, is going to be awful. That sounds like Hell. C.S. Lewis described Heaven as a place where all the inhabitants declare to God THY will be done whereas Hell is a place where God says to the inhabitants, thy will be done. What if God is real and He wanted to give you a choice about knowing Him. What if Heaven is the better choice and Hell is the choice where you get to have it your way, eternity without Him. That's not a moral prod, it's a relationship choice. Have you ever read the Old Testament?"

"You mean the New Testament, right, the one about Christ."

"No, you should read the Old Testament. The entire Old Testament contains thousands of clues that Jesus Christ is the coming Messiah. These clues are what turned those frightened disciples into daring men of faith. If you read, for instance, Psalm 22 it would frighten the living daylights out of you."

"Why?"

"Because it refers to the death of Christ, by crucifixion almost a thousand years before He came and before the Romans invented that form of death. Is that an accident? I don't think so. It's the solution to the mystery before the mystery is even understood. Personally, I think that Christianity is real and you're too chicken to admit it."

"Ahh, turning the tables. Very clever."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps it's true. You really should do some soul searching my friend. May God bless you and reveal Himself to you. Have a nice day." Then she gathered her things and got off at the next stop.

Soul searching my foot. That woman was blind. She's the one with the problem not me.

Right then all Hell broke loose on the train. It crashed suddenly, I think it collided with another one. The roof caved in. Everyone was screaming, lights were flashing, people were crying, praying, and running until the darkness came. Darkness. That's all I've seen. I suppose all the other people are dead. It's wierd, I can't find a soul, can't smell a thing, or even hear anything but my own thoughts. It's lucky I have my phone, even though it doesn't work.

Wait a minute. I think I hear something. I think I see something, too. I'm walking in the tunnel of darkness here. I suppose any second I'll trip on a dead body. I seem to hear faint voices and see a faint light...I've been walking for what seems like an eternity now. The light is closer, it's hurting my eyes. I can hear the voices...they're...singing. And the light...it's peaking through some cracks the way sun rays peak through rain clouds. I'm getting closer. I can see the cracks. Wait, they're letters...something has been carved in the floor of my ceiling...it says..."thy will be done."

Visions of Heaven

When my mom had a heart attack many years ago, I remember sitting in the waiting room, talking with my aunt and realizing that I knew every word she was about to say. I had had this conversation before. I remembered waking up one morning and being very confused about the grey interior of the room, the seriousness of the situation and why I was talking to my aunt. Weird.

That's happened to me again and again: De ja vu. Some believe that it means that we have lived more than one life and we are cycling again and again through it, so we remember the event in the next life. I don't buy that. Some say that it's a chemical reaction that makes us believe that we had that experience before when in reality we haven't. I don't buy that either. These visions are about very specific events, conversations, and details that could never be predicted and have no associations. I am not looking for them. I am often in the middle of something and am surprised to find that I know the next thing that's going to happen because I had dreamed a small portion of it earlier. Sometimes I will wake up and think, "Where in the world did that come from? I've never been to that person's house, country, etc." Strange, really. If you're reading this, you either understand what I'm talking about or you think I'm losing it. You are either clairvoyant or you are not. I wonder if this is what people mean when they say, "The Lord spoke to me in a dream..."

Several years ago I had a dream that I was dancing in a tropical kind of place and there was a mirror with a fancy dress, a tacky scarf, an oversized handbag. Weird. Many years have passed since then. Last month, on a Tuesday afternoon, I went to my Zumba class at the YMCA and ended up in the back row. It was crowded. I didn't mind. In the back row, you can see the palm trees and the mountains through the windows. A little Hawai'i, a little salsa, and loud music. Just right. And then I turned to the left. There it was: the dress, the scarf, the bag, hanging on the mirror because my Zumba friend didn't want to put it in her locker. Though I never gave the dream another thought after that first morning, I instantly remembered waking up in my bedroom in Maryland wondering what in the world that was all about ( I never would have worn that dress with that scarf, I had never been to a tropical place). I remembered being confused and brushing it off as I sipped my morning tea. And there I was that Tuesday, several years later, in a place I never expected to be, being reminded that God knew the plans He had for me before I was born.

I don't think those visions are a chemical reaction. I think they are visions from Heaven from a loving Father reminding me that He is with me and in me, before me, behind me. My Zumba instructor is very good because right before the music changes, she tells us the next move so we know what to do. I think that's what those visions are about: God is telling me that life is coming around the corner, don't forget the next move: Trust in Him. He has a plan.

Redemption

Sometimes in relationships, we see the wrong side of each other.

Redemption is about turning over a new leaf.

Jon found this shell on our cross country drive. Shawn made it into a necklace.

Dave and Daniel rest after a 4 hour hike in the mountains.



The spiral is the shape of galaxies, shells and this unfolding fern.

So much of life feels like an interruption to what we'd rather be doing. I'd rather be gardening or cooking but instead the Lord has called me to write chants and grade papers. In the midst of the myriad of tasks, at the most critical moments, I am often interrupted by conflict. Perhaps it was a careless word, a careless glance, or a careless error but nonetheless, it falls upon me to intervene. Someone has been hurt. Someone has hurt them. What do I do? It's at these pivotal moments where we are the most useful to the actual purpose of our lives; redemption. We think that our purpose is found in our pursuits and our pleasures, but in reality, our purpose is to bring redemption to hurting souls. The interruptions are not interruptions at all, they are the actual purpose of our lives. The children on the playground, the kids in the backyard, they all need to be redeemed from the hurt of conflict, the pain of harsh words. At the point that I choose to focus on them instead of the papers, dishes or plants in my hands, I am actually choosing to be uninterrupted from my purpose. The time of teaching our children how to listen to one another, how to own their mistakes and how to forgive is worth every second. Life is short, not a second to lose. I'm often tempted to ignore the problem or worse, to tell them to be quiet so I can do my work, but that is not the right response. At the moment when a relationship needs mending, THAT is my work. It is not an interruption. I must choose to help them work through it graciously and lovingly.

Today, one of my students was making a priority out of distracting others while I was teaching them about the Persian Wars. I asked to speak to him in the hall. Our conversation went like this:

"What were you doing?"

"I was talking."

"Are you supposed to be talking?"

"I was talking to myself."

"Yes, but the three other boys next to you heard you and were distracted and told you so. Are you supposed to be distracting others?"

"No, but I was talking to myself."

"The boys next to you did not feel that you were talking to yourself, they thought you were talking to them. This looks an awful lot like you got caught talking to them and are afraid of getting in trouble.

Child bursts into tears...

I placed my hand on his shoulder and looked into his teary brown eyes, "Are you crying because I'm right, or because I'm wrong?"

Sobbing, "Because you're right!"

At this point, I bent over and got face to face, "And do you know that this disobedience and covering up with excuses is the very reason that Jesus died for you?"

Sob, sob, sob.

"Would you like to thank Him now?"

"Yes, Dear Jesus, Thank you. I'm sorry."

"Amen." We hugged. "Feel better now?"

"Yes."

"Let's go back to class."

So-called Interruption: 5 minutes

Cost of redemption: Priceless

Pie in the Sky

Objective: The teacher will write objectives that are observable and measurable before beginning instruction.

Education is pie in the sky if we don't do our jobs right. The process of passing down the legacy of learning and thinking is one where we literally make the intangible tangible. We are taking ideas, thoughts and concepts and placing them into the minds of our students through words, songs, discussions and lessons. This process becomes muddled when the people involved become distracted and disillusioned. Parents become distracted by test scores, students are disillusioned by edutainment, teachers are often distracted by the very task of teaching itself. Often the very nature of teaching leads us to fill time instead of using it. We have books, materials, resources but one thing we often lack: objectives. Observable and measurable objectives often seem to nag us into figuring out what it is we're trying to do the way a mother scolds her children to clean up after themselves. They nag, but yet they are needed. Unless our objectives can be seen, as in "list the wars that the Greeks had among themselves," they will never be accomplished. To seek to accomplish the goal to "understand that the Greeks had many wars," is nebulous and unattainable. I cannot know whether my students understand anything by asking them if they understand and why waste time with "many" when they can know the names themselves! This seems like semantics and nit picking, but when it comes to the education of young minds, I think the nit picking is worth it. I must accomplish my goals. They must be goals that can be accomplished in the first place. And because I am not omniscient, I must be able to observe and measure those goals and objectives. Otherwise, I'm filling up time reading a bunch of books, singing and bunch of songs and teaching nebulous lessons. Just pie in the sky.

Hiking Without Fear

"Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the LORD is kept safe."

Proverbs 29:25

Life is hard. It is a challenging and often painful journey. I've been reflecting on that a lot lately. Laura and I have recently finished a class with the Christian Counseling and Education Foundation that has challenged both of us to examine ourselves more closely. Each of us was required to complete a self-counseling project where we walked ourselves through areas in our lives where we felt we needed to grow in our faith and dependence on the Lord. We both chose projects that forced us to deal with fear of man. Solomon taught that fear of man is a trap, whereas fear of God leads to freedom and peace. My struggle in life is that I care about what people think of me. It's a tricky thing to want to have a good reputation. On the one hand, the Bible teaches that if we don't have a good reputation, we shouldn't be in leadership. On the other hand, if we are ruled by our desire for a good reputation, it becomes a trap.

Life is a journey. Walking that journey with the balanced perspective of fear of the Lord instead of fear of man is the key to keep from stumbling. During various phases in my self-counseling project I encountered stumbling blocks where my perspective was completely skewed by what others might say or do. At other times I was completely aware of others but unconcerned because my focus was on honoring the Lord. My eyes were fixed on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of my faith. It was in those times that I felt most free. I confess that I wasn't a big fan of hiking in Maryland. Ticks bother me. Snakes scare me. Both cross the hiking trail. But hiking in Hawai'i is fun. There are no snakes and no ticks! I am not afraid that while I'm hiking a giant snake will cross my path (yes, it's happened to me!) and a tiny tick won't ruin my health (yes, that's happened to my daughter). Imagine if I could walk the journey of life as if I'm hiking in Hawai'i. No matter where the trail takes me, I'm safe in His love and care.

Hebrews 13:5-6.

“Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” So we say with confidence,
“The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?”

The Joy of Giving

Last year we began a new tradition. Unpacking our attic, dusting off scarcely used presents and shipping them off to Goodwill just before we moved to Hawai'i challenged us to completely rethink the way we give gifts. Why do we give "a little something" just so that it can be opened now and dusted later? Why not instead give memories or a service that is desired but unaffordable? So, Jon took us out for ice cream, Laura took us out to a Christmas play, Lydia bought us a movie for movie night, you get the idea. This year, the Three Muskateers (Daniel, Lydia and Jonathan) pooled their money and took the whole family to see Tangled (I highly recommend it). For us, seeing a movie is an unaffordable luxury so this was a real treat. Dave and I still bought gifts for our children and we still filled their stockings, but with more intention towards simplicity. We also gave our kids a pretty cool memory, designing and blowing their own glass ornament. Island Glass Works is a local glass blowing business that combines chemistry, physics and art in one of a kind creations. Here are some of our memories.

First they gather the glass from the bottom of this oven.

Then they add color to the glass using glass shards.

Then they add air. We blew our ornaments through a straw.

They shaped it using tools that have not changed in 4,000 years.

All glass appears to be red when it is first out of the fire.

You begin to see the true colors as it cools.

Now that was a fun gift!

Merry Christmas from the Collins Clan!

Mele Kalikimaka

June '09 - We had one 20 foot shipping container in which to stuff our furniture, clothes, pantry and other treasured possessions. We sold most of our possessions just to fit the most important things into our container. Our packing friends were coming in 20 minutes and we still had not made our way into the attic to pull out the 4 extra large storage bins of Christmas ornaments, trinkets and treasures. No longer able to delay, we sat down and tried to think logically about very sentimental traditions. I didn't want to spend our holidays hanging snowmen everywhere, lamenting over Christmas past. Frosty wouldn't be coming to Hawai'i. We also had come to realize how unnecessary all of our decorations were and how distracting they had become. So, we left alot of our traditions in the attic, along with the Christmas tree. There was simply no room, not in the container and not in our tiny house without a basement or attic (we are all pretty violently allergic to cut evergreens). We decided to plan on getting a palm tree instead.

Last Christmas - We opened the one average size bin of Christmas treasures, we discovered that we had left some important things behind. The stockings...two boxes of ornaments...our candle nativity...our wooden nativitity...and regardless of what anyone said, we all missed our tree. We tried to make the best of it. We tried to tell ourselves that we weren't as sad as we really were but the reality was that we were heartbroken. The children had been given ornaments each year, with their name and date proudly written on each one. When it became obvious that we couldn't hang their ornaments, the children never complained (which made it worse). We discovered that palm trees, though fast becoming a favorite species of mine, are unaffordable and not nearly as practical for hanging ornaments. We bought a Charlie Brown Norfolk pine and discovered that, while fulfilling a need for greenery, their branches are useless for hanging ornaments. We made the best of our Christmas last year, missing family, missing friends, missing our own traditions. On December 26th, I turned the house as quickly back to normal as possible so that I could forget how painful it had been. I knew that God had called us here to Hawai'i, but did it have to feel so foreign, so different from all that we had known before?

This year, we bought a tree, fully lit and tall enough to reach the beams in our little house. We played music and the children hung all of their ornaments on the tree, and none of the branches wilted. For the first time in all of our Christmases, I did not have to secretly rearrange their ornaments to make them look better. The very first ornaments I was given, made by my brother David's fiance in 1987, now graced our Hawai'i home. Each of the children's kindergarten pictures, stars and yes, snowmen were proudly hung with care. During my visit back to the mainland in June, I canvased the attic for the missing stockings, my quilted tree skirt, our wooden nativity from Israel and even the nativity windmill from Holland. (I ended up not being able to fit it in my bag so I asked, okay forced, Laura to carry it on her way home. She said the pilot had to put it next to him because there was no room on the plane. How appropriate.) Nonetheless, these treasures donned our home this year. The stockings were hung on the bookcase with care. The shutters were dressed in leis and the train made its way proudly around our brightly lit tree. It felt like Christmas.

As I contemplated my own heart and expectations of Christmas, I thought alot about how it must have felt for the Hawaiians of old to embrace the dramatic changes in their culture. In the early 1800's, when missionaries shared the good news of Jesus' birth, life and resurrection with them, the Hawaiians believed quickly and embraced their new faith whole heartedly. How incredible it must have been for them to literally be living in a stone age culture, with no metal tools or objects whatsoever, and suddenly encounter modern Western culture. So eager were the Hawaiians to show their acceptance of modernity, that Iolani Palace, the home of Hawai'i's monarchy, had electricity before the White House. The capacity of the Hawaiian people to adapt to a new culture was astounding. But many have come to question the amount of cultural changes that were made. It was the custom of the time among Western missionaries to encourage the growth of Western culture in the new converts to the faith. When the Hawaiians wanted to know how to be like these wonderful missionaries, they were encouraged to dress like Westerners and to put aside their hula and other traditions. The Hawaiian culture changed so much that by the time of Hawai'i's annexation to the U.S. in 1895, it had become forbidden to speak the Hawaiian languge. Many portraits of the monarchy of that time offer few visible signs of Hawaiian culture.

Thankfully, it is no longer forbidden to speak Hawaiian and it is no longer taboo to dance hula. In fact, many churches sing hymns in Hawaiian. Our own church sang one of the verses to Silent Night in this beautiful language. Many churches celebrate and illustrate stories and songs with hula. Thankfully, it is no longer required of Hawaiians to choose between the culture and traditions that represent who they really are as a people, and their faith in the One who came to redeem them. Having lost a tiny bit of my own culture in coming here, I have a better understanding of the pain it must have caused my Hawaiian brothers and sisters in the faith. My prayer and hope for this tiny island in the middle of the Pacific is that its people will continue to understand ways that God has revealed Himself to them in their culture and their history so that they may proclaim His goodness to their children and their children's children. That would be Christmas everyday.

"The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever..." Deuteronomy 29:29