Gail

Counting Measures

Counting Measures

Every musician in the orchestra has to know how to do two things: how to make beautiful sounds and how to keep beautiful silences. If everyone played at once the music could not breathe. In those silences the player is not idle, nor drifting, nor detached. He is listening to the other notes, keeping his place in the flow and his eye on the conductor. What you don’t see is that he is counting measures.

There are times when he is playing the notes written on his own score, listening to the other players, carefully matching pitch and tempo and dynamics- playing in harmony. Then there are those brief moments when it is his turn for a solo, for the few bars where his instrument alone is intended to shimmer against the background laid down by the other performers.

The readiness is all. Years of lessons, hours of practice come to the fore when he is called upon to step out alone and let his light shine for a brief but glorious interval. It is the discipline of long periods of just counting measures that allow him to make his entrance and exit at the exact right moment.

During those silent times, when it seems that no one is watching or listening, that the sound of your instrument is not being heard at all, remember that you aren’t idle or sidelined; your place in the orchestra is secure and your notes are essential. Keep your eyes on the conductor while you keep that beautiful silence. Keep counting the measures, enjoying the music that surrounds you ; always leaning slightly forward, ready and able and waiting for your turn.

Taste and See that the Lord is Good: Eating Wisdom

Eating Wisdom Yancey

My son recently finished a book called The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey. He found much there which stimulated his interest and seemed eager to discuss the book with me once he found out that I had read it. Problem is, it had been 5 or 6 years ago and I now remember not much more than the title and that I had enjoyed it.

He marveled at that bit of news in a sort of disappointed way. “What? How could I have read an entire book and not be able to remember any specific point the author had made? Why even bother to read at all then?”, he wondered.

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A Tantalizing Twosome

Why, on the table next to the lush burgundy brocade reading chair in my room at the Hilton, are there two different bottles, each claiming to be “the world’s best-tasting spring water?” The neck collars they wear tout their excellence in the field of recreational beverages of the non-intoxicating kind. The highway robbery price of $3.95 a bottle is displayed boldly lest the inattentive guest think this treat is complementary.

I suppose if you can stay at the Hilton you don’t deny yourself liquid refreshment for the sake of a few easily-replaced bucks. Both are mineral waters from Italy. Both are packaged in unusually attractive glass bottles.

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Glacier Bay

Jeff and Gail in Alaska

There are benefits to sticking it out and holding fast to your vows.

The joy of twenty-five years of marriage to a creationist means a cruise to Alaska to celebrate. And now, whenever I sing lines like, “From the highest of heights to the depths of the seas, creation’s revealing His majesty,” I have a new reference point: Glacier Bay.

In dazzling Glacier Bay the azure skies meet the frigid, pale turquoise sea and even the ice is powder blue. All this beauty is a result of time and pressure. Glaciers are formed from snow that has accumulated over many years and it is all these years of mounting compression that make the ice so dense it absorbs all the hues but blue.

Like the diamonds given by suitors as symbols of that which is precious and enduring, glaciers also derive their beauty from the power of great pressure. Our marriage has endured because the stresses of life have kept us as couple reaching for God, pressed down and moving together in the same direction, the way the tidewater glacier heads for the sea.

Walking with the Teacher #3 Differentiated Instruction

Differentiated Instruction, or individualized instruction, is defined in The Act of Teaching as, “Instruction that attempts to tailor teaching and learning to a learner’s unique strengths and needs”. Another source adds, “The intent of differentiating instruction is to maximize each student’s growth and individual success by meeting each student where he or she is, and assisting in the learning process . My ongoing thesis in this series is that Jesus was the greatest teacher who ever lived and that we who desire to spend our lives educating and inspiring young people would do well to study his life and to learn by watching and then emulating Him. I am finding that an examination of what research determines to be the best practices in education somehow always results in praise to God, who of course, as the designer of our brains, knew these things all along.

I found myself in need of some individualized instruction in the hours before dawn one day last week. After a prolonged period of wrestling with the bedcovers and my own anxious thoughts, I could finally stand it no longer and got up in the dark. Painfully aware that I had not had sufficient rest to get me through all the tasks that faced me and too sleepy to start my day with the structure of my Bible study workbook, I just wrapped myself in a quilt, went out into the backyard, and watched the sunrise. Finally, I grew still. In that chilly solitude filled with bird song and the brilliant colors of the morning, it was easy to know that he was God. That I was not. And that was precisely where and when Jesus, my Teacher came and gently directed me to a passage of Scripture that would “maximize ( my) growth and individual success by meeting ( me) where I ( was ) and assist me in the learning process.”

A passage came to mind from Luke 12:22 and I turned there. I have wrestled with worry many times and so it was not an unfamiliar passage. Words like “Which of you by worrying can add one hour to his life?”, or “… you of little faith…” followed by that wonderful encouragement to “seek first the Kingdom” hit me right in the heart. Now that I was finally still and listening, what we educators might term “ engaged” , my Teacher was able to administer some more individualized instruction, pointing out to me that when I get worried I also become a wee bit argumentative, borderline bossy, and even downright grouchy. He was able to deliver this news to me in such a way that it truly became good news because it came with a clear-cut solution. Repent. Trust. Obey. There really is no other way.

Because Jesus loves me and knows me individually, he gave me a new song to sing. I suppose he must have read the research on multiple intelligences, because this was just the ticket for me. Any teacher knows that a very effective mnemonic device is to put concepts to music to help auditory learners memorize content. Jesus knew that the song would get stuck in my head and would remind me to take the thoughts that had been troubling me captive. Suffice it to say that my anxiety was quelled, my spirit soothed and my joy restored.

These “Be-still- and-know-that-He-is-God” moments are essential in the life of a busy teacher. When the traffic in our own heads becomes deafening, it drowns out our ability to hear the needs of the students God has entrusted to us. As we follow Jesus, our Master Teacher, we come to know his attention to our individual needs and it is from that position of strength that we are able provide ” instruction that attempts to tailor teaching and learning to a learner’s unique strengths and needs.” Once again, we realize the God is able to equip us fully for the work to which he has called us.

As you walk with the Teacher and sit with him in the silence, may your joy be full and your cup overflowing!

The Passion

The Passion. A response, poetic.

Heart wide-open,
Shocked open.
Agony of empathy
made every beat a pulsation of pain.
But then,
the balm was laid in
to the place of the open wound,
with a surgeon’s skill- this surely brought us
a comfort of peace.
What is this gift of God?

How can something so ethereal simply enter the ear
And soothe the soul that stretches inside a man,
From the roots of his hair to the nails of his toes?

The cruelest piercings ran head to toe.
Not a halo, but cursed thorns surrounded and
spilled a series of scarlet rivulets
that ran over his shoulders
and continued
down
to the place they would meet the
bruised heel,
held fast against the splintered wood
by the coarsest of nails.
Arms that did not need to be forced open
revealed the heart laid bare,
laid open and broken.

Just to watch,
Weeping,
My eyes as wide open as I could force them to be.
This was the smallest part of sharing in Your sufferings.

But most memorable on that most memorable of nights?
It was the comfort of Your love,
expressed from each to each.
Comforts were
warmth of firelight,
heat of sweet tea,
a meal marinated in gratitude
from the making to the receiving.
Warm dog eyes, breath, and the press of his head,
The silence of a togetherness of solitude.

And ultimately the music
that entered and did its work of washing,
giving us the only way possible to express the
fullness of our worship and Your worth.
Again You poured out your gift to us through
The heart and head and hands
of Your child ;
A collecting pool midway
down
the cascade.
We stood under the waterfall and felt the splash of refreshment.
First, a time to listen ,
Then a time to join in
In the song of our love
for You.
Our passion.

Your passion.

Gail Bones June 21, 2004

Isaiah 55:12

Isaiah 55:12 Tree
“You will go out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands.”
Isaiah 55:12

Walking with the Teacher # 2: He Starts with the Blessings

He Starts with the Blessings

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. 
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. 
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons of God,
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
Matthew 5: 3-10

To be “Blessed”

To be blessed means more than to be happy, healthy or overflowing with material goods. It indicates a joy that goes beyond mere emotion. Max Lucado, in The Applause of Heaven, calls it “…a delicious gladness that comes from God. A holy joy. A sacred delight.” It is what we all really want at the core of our souls. Any form of earthly pleasure is only a signpost or a substitute for what God really wants to give us. To be blessed by God… it is peace, it is bliss. And it is reward.

Jesus starts out his earthly ministry as a teacher by talking to his listeners about rewards. The notes in the NIV study Bible refer to the Sermon on the Mount as “…in effect, King Jesus’ inaugural address, explaining what he expects of members of his kingdom.” But there is no fanfare, no royal proclamation, no PowerPoint presentation. He simply climbs up a hillside and begins to teach the first group of students God has given him, those who would one day share these lessons and turn the world upside down. He does not start out with a list of regulations and the penalties that will result if they are breached. He does not promise entertainment or fun times ahead for those who follow him. But he does unmistakably appeal to his listeners’ desire and need to be rewarded for right action.

Jesus is the best teacher who ever lived. When we answer God’s call on our lives to be teachers, we are signing up to walk with the Teacher, to sit at his feet and take lessons from him about all aspects of this demanding and rewarding career and ministry. He will show us how to communicate truth in a way that touches the hearts as well as the heads of our pupils. Demonstrating the perfect balance of correction and encouragement,he can inspire us to inspire others. He will teach us how to teach.

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When Grey Turns Glorious

When Grey Turns Glorious
When grey turns glorious
it gets a new name.Winter sky and sea.
On this day there is coolness, but no chill.
Hard to put a name to the color spread before me.
Then suddenly I see that behind those clouds
the sun is shining still.All that’s grey becomes silver
When it is infused with that light!
When God sends the sparkle and shine,
It turns shimmery, silvery
Glistening bright.Lord, when my seasons turn to coolness and grey,
When there is limited warmth in my sunless day,
To the denseness and drear, send your brilliant light
To illuminate the clouds that surround.

The gleam of your glory,
Made manifest in silver.

~ Gail Bones

Walking with Faith – # 2 in a series

In the weeks that followed our meeting, Faith and I would greet one another and smile at various church events. A key step in the establishment of our friendship was the day I felt led to call her to pray when I’d heard she was having an especially difficult time in some aspects of her ministry at church. I have learned the importance of never saying “no” or “not now” when the Holy Spirit prompts me to drop what I am doing and pray with someone. The results are always so much greater than the awkwardness the situation might initially entail. It was a few weeks later after a worship service that she approached with a shy smile and said the words that every middle-aged Christian woman secretly longs to hear, or would if she knew what it would eventually mean to her : “I don’t know what it is that you’ve got, but whatever it is I want some! Would you be willing to mentor me?”

Wow. Saying yes to such a request assumes you have the confidence to believe that you have something to say that she will want to hear. I’d have to trust God with that one. I did not enter into this relationship lightly, but prayed about it and felt God directing me to say yes to the time commitment it would require. In addition to being Jeff’s wife, I was at the time a high school teacher and mother of my own two in high school and college, with a one-night a week commitment to direct and lead the high school praise band. Time is not a commodity I would have thought I would have had any kind of surplus of, but God knew what he was about to do and he guided me in the right direction. He gave me the idea to begin by killing two birds with one stone: I would incorporate my need for physical exercise with my desire to say yes to Faith by asking her to walk with me. And so I started walking weekly with Faith.

When Faith and I began to walk the streets near my home, I noticed that male neighbors I hadn’t seen outside with a garden hose in years would suddenly appear on their front yards, grinning from ear to ear, doing everything but a muscle-man flex as they attempted to appear to be casually watering their lawns as this vision of beauty passed by. What did this girl have? What was it like to walk through life like Cinderella at the ball?

Walking with Faith as her invisible sidekick brought some of my unattractive hang-ups up to the surface. The verse from Proverbs, “Beauty is fleeting and charm is deceitful, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised,” was pasted on the mirror in my bathroom for Pete’s sake. Didn’t I believe the Bible? Was I really this shallow? It was at this starting point, this identification of some of my true shallowness that the Lord began to go deep- deep into the wounds of my childhood, the rejection I’d felt, the insecurities that came on in junior high and never really left. Like a fungal yeast infection, the spores remained, sometimes seemingly symptomless, but always waiting for an opportune moment. So God had arranged for me, a middle-aged woman who felt she was losing her figure, her beauty, and although I hate to admit it, my feelings of worth because of it, to spend time regularly parading through the streets with a beauty queen. I must have prayed for God to humble me and he found just the way to do it!

Faith was, and is, unique. She is one of God’s greatest gifts to me, right up there with his gifts to me of my husband and my children. In a way that only God has known, she has been a sign of his mercy, grace, forgiveness, and comfort to me. I sometimes gloss over lists like this of religious words, so perhaps you do too. Let’s slow down and chew on this a bit. When I say mercy, it is because I know that my past is not forgivable, save for his mercy. When I say grace, it is because I know that a gift of this kind of friendship is nothing I deserve, nothing I drummed up or found on my own. When I say forgiveness, it is because he has given me in Faith what I regret daily that I gave away without knowing what I was doing, and when I say comfort, it is because the God who died so that he could forgive us does not leave us comfortless. He sends us people he wants to use to love us for him. Faith has taught me much about a Father who sees me as loved, accepted, forgiven and altogether beautiful. But we did not get there overnight. ( to be continued)