Paid in FULL

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Front Desk at Snow King Resort -Jackson Hole Wyoming

My husband & I just got back from a trip to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. This was a business trip for him, including days spent in a conference room with speakers on the topic of healthcare. His generous boss invited the spouses to come along and enjoy the hotel, amenities and excursions. So basically, while he worked, I got to play! 🙂

It is a different experience to travel for work. The expenses are usually taken care of by the company, but still there is that thought in the back of the mind that doesn’t quite believe it to be true. We always have that awkward moment at the end — do we leave the hotel keys in the room as we’ve been told over a hundred times, or should we go ahead and bring them down the front desk and checkout in person to make sure there aren’t any surprises? My husband, being the man who wants to make sure he is doing the right and responsible thing, always chooses the latter option.

So, yesterday morning at the dark hour of 4:45 am, we made our way to the front desk and turned in our keys. As the man was keying in our information, my husband asked for a receipt. The guy looked up and said “I can’t give you a receipt. The payment information goes to the Master. Your bill is paid in full.”

Immediately I thought of Christ.

His payment of sacrifice on the cross was given on our behalf to the Master. Our bill is paid in full. No receipt needed… only thankfulness on our part for what Christ has done for us in giving us eternal life through his death. This is the business of heaven – redemption and salvation.

What a gift of GRACE:

God’s

Riches

At

Christ’s

Expense

Amen.

Forgotten Art of Storytelling

f52160e9d05b76e7b8e7ec21206f46bdLet me tell you a story~ A handsome Rajah had a beautiful garden in which he planted fruit trees of all kinds. He hired gardeners to take care of each section and in a land that suffered from droughts, the Rajah’s garden was like a lush tropical paradise. There were benches where one could sit in the cool shade of the fig tree and many tree branches that bent down due to their heavy burden of fruit.

A pair of parrots happened to fly past this oasis and decided to perch upon the garden’s thick stone wall. As they talked to one another about the beautiful garden, the husband parrot’s mouth was watering as he looked at the beautiful mangoes on the trees. His wife, seeing him eye the fruit sang a song of warning to him “totaya, munmotaya tu rajah bagh na ja. Rajah bagh asah he, dainda payan la [parrot, parrot, don’t go to the Rajah’s garden. Rajah’s garden is like this, they will hang you].” They thought about the risk and flew away, however, desire got the best of them. The very next morning, driven by hunger and the aroma of the many fruit trees in the garden, they decided to approach again. They were quiet this time, but went closer to the trees. He looks at his wife who sings the warning to him again and this time, he sings back “totayee, munmotayee, main rajah bagh main jaoonga or aam laykay ahoon ga” [my sweet girl (parrot), I will go to the Rajah’s garden and will bring you back some mangoes]. He immediately flew and collected the ripest fruits. Later that afternoon, as they were sitting on the wall, enjoying their bounty, the servants came to collect the fruit. The Rajah desired to have the choicest mangoes. The servants panicked when they only saw green mangoes. As they looked from tree to tree, they spotted the parrots eating the fruit. They ran to tell the Rajah what happened.

The Rahah was outraged! He told the servants to immediately place a net and catch the offender. He was so angry that he said he would eat the bird alive. They caught the parrot quickly for he was still sitting there blissfully, enjoying his stolen fruit. They put the parrot into a dish and served it to the Rajah. The Rajah laughed as he ate the squawking parrot! The Rajah immediately has indigestion and the parrot seems to be flying in his stomach, still alive. The Rajah is indignant! He tells his servants that he wants the bird dead now and he asks them to wait with guns and daggers until the parrot comes out the other end.

The parrot was moving so much, that he came out quickly and as he emerged from the Rajah’s behind, the servants shot the Rajah in the rear. The parrot flew away. The Rajah sees that maybe the parrot was too clever for all of them and so he decides to punish his servants for not taking better care of the garden and of the outcome. The Rajah yells out to the flying parrot “Magical and clever parrot. Come and be in my court for you are wise and should counsel me in my kingdom.” The parrot, his wife, and their children come and live at the court where the parrot serves as the Rajah’s Vizier for years and years.

[old tale told by my great-grandmother, to my grandmother, to my mother, to me and now, to our children – originates from Bannu, Tribal area of west Pakistan]

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It’s not unusual to find my father at a party or gathering with a story ready to go. He is a wonderful storyteller and knows how to weave a fantastic story together. The most forgettable events can turn into a beautiful story in his hands. When my sisters and I were little, he used to tell us stories to charm us into eating, sleeping or even tidying up the house. He still has a story at hand for his grandchildren and even as teenagers, they find them as fascinating as I did.

I get my love for talking and telling stories from my dad. However, I do not know poetry from heart and I also mess up the details or endings. I watched an “I Love Lucy” episode once where Lucy messed up a humorous story’s punchline – I feel like that sometimes. Still, I think there is a value in telling a story.

In the United States, we find that we are given facts, statistics, and even small infomercials at times about all aspects of our lives – from work to family, from personal hygiene to what to eat. With the advent of Ted Talks on YouTube, 15-18 minutes seems to be all you need to get a message across to someone. Someone sitting down to tell a story doesn’t seem to be a common occurrence.

Sharing information through a story is an ancient way to communicate. Walls and barriers seem to be relaxed when someone says “Let me tell you a story…” We seem to visibly relax and ease into a conversation. It hearkens back  to settling into our comfortable pillow and blankets for a bedtime story. It puts us at ease.

It was no surprise to me when I read that Jesus spoke to his disciples in parables. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus used the most parables. Since Matthew wrote the book for the Jewish audience, he knew the heritage and history of sharing the word of God through a story. They were used to telling stories and passing them down through the generations. The same feeling of sitting down, relaxing and settling into a story was what Jesus was doing to the large crowds that gathered to listen to him. This is still a wonderful way to not just learn the Gospels but also to communicate and share them with people from other cultures. There is always a point to the story, key players (usually a good and evil) and also a desired behavior or outcome. The stories are interwoven beautifully and they capture our imagination.

A good story is one that draws the receiver in, makes them listen, allows them to learn and think or reflect on the teaching. Stories are softened lectures. They make a point that the reader has to think about and they may not even understand what the story was about right away. There are many layers to the story that allows us to ponder and unfold at a later time.

One of the most important thing we can do is to share our own personal story with others. You can simply start with how you were as a child, or how you met your spouse or how your parents met. Those are wonderful things to pass on to the future generations and shared with elaborate details. We have done this with our children and even drove them to the place where my husband and I met. We have shown them the place where we got married and had our first home. It’s important to set down your traditions, roots and stories so that the next generation has something to hold on to.

Just as I shared the strange tale of the parrots with my children, a story can become a link to the past, to traditions and culture. It is a legacy you give to your children. It is a special gift that can be passed on to their own family and if it is told with passion and emotion, it’s something they will think about as adults. As a Christian, it is a legacy of the way God has weaved your life together and has shown you and your family His blessings. For those who believe, this can be a powerful way to witness to others and to show God’s love to others.

So the next time someone asks about your faith or about what you believe, instead of giving them a lecture or sharing the latest statistics, allow them to relax and settle into a story of something Christ told in His parables or how those parables have related to your own life story. It will become as a memorable event and will also allow you to share your background, upbringing, family, culture or traditions and connect in a deeper way.

What is HOPE?

 

What is Hope?

What do we Hope for?

What happens if we lose Hope?

The first week of Advent revolves around Hope. Merriam Webster defines it as:

HOPE: to want something to happen or be true and think that it could happen or be true

Frankly, this is a strange definition. For me, hope is the blessing of a new day. It’s the love of a family and the presence of peace in my home. It’s knowing that no matter what, with God’s help, all will be well- even if everything in my life is topsy-turvy.

When I became a new Christian, the hope I found in Christ was like nothing I had experienced. For this reason in the Bible, hope is mentioned in conjunction with God. There are several verses that talk about the hope we have in Christ. We are called to one body, one Spirit, one Hope (Eph 4:4). Faith is also linked to Hope. Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance of what we do not see (Heb 11:1).

As a Muslim, I did have hope. It was set squarely in my own abilities and in my parents. I believed that my own good works and the good reputation of my family would be enough to carry me along my whole life. Very quickly, that deteriorated. I realized that was a childish attitude and that I had more desire to fulfill my own selfish needs than to help others. I still believed I was a good person, because I didn’t understand God’s absolute holy nature and that I could not earn my way into His favor.  Throwing some change into the red Salvation Army bucket solidified the thought that I was such a nice person.  I chose to place all the hope I had in myself.

As an immigrant, the American Dream played right into my hopes and those of my parents. This is a country like no other. If you try hard enough, you can make your own future, your own piece of heaven, your own peace and freedom. As a driven person, I almost burnt myself out on my career. I created competition between my husband and I (my career is better than yours) and I ignored the needs of my children. At the same time, I was raising quickly up the corporate ladder. I was loved and adored at work but at home, I had a great deal of sadness. My hopes and dreams were being fulfilled but there was an empty void. This wasn’t quite what I had envisioned. Maybe if I had more titles, money, prestige, I would be better.

It took me several more years until I realized that hope shouldn’t be in myself or in others. When I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior, there was an immediate sense of relief. God wants you drop your burdens at His feet and to come to him as you are. You don’t have to wait until you are an executive, or until you have met certain goals or a rank. In fact, he says “blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth (Matt 5:5).” That is so backwards from what the world says. I think that’s why it stays in your brain as a kernel of truth that distrupts thought.

So it makes sense that the first week of Advent is to light the candle of HOPE. It belongs to Christ. We cannot lose it when he holds it secure. We can run to him for the hope that shines like a beacon in the dark. Hope beckons us in turbulent times, when the waves of life come crashing down upon us causing us to slip and be tossed about on waves like infants(Eph 4:14).

Have you  lost hope? Have you looked for for it? Have you found it in Christ? This is the time when we can confidently approach the throne of God and find all our hopes and dreams at Jesus Christ’s feet, for our treasures are stored up in heaven.
~We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain… Hebrews 6:19

 

Pot Pies and Clogged Pipes

My sweet mother-in-law is hosting all of us for Thanksgiving tomorrow. We got a harried phone call tonight that relayed to us that we may not have a Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. Well, we may have one, but it will be somewhat of a mess as the sink is not working after they put a pot pie in the drain. Not sure if the pot pie did it or if it may have been something more sinister. Bottom line was that it did not bode well and not much thanks was being given over the state of the impending family dinner.

During the call, it was evident that all sorts of things had already been tried. It was out of their hands and possibly into the hands of a plumber who may or may not show up.  When my mother-in-law asked towards the end of the call for us to pray, I felt that maybe we should go ahead and pray immediately. Some people may think that is ridiculous! That God has other more important things going on in the world than to contend with clogged pipes at the Earnest home, but I beg to differ. God is our Father and for pipe problems, I always went to my own dad. God is interested in the details of our lives. He Himself knows every hair on our head (Psalm 139). He says to bring all things to him.

My “Paul” was named Cindy. When I became a Christian, she helped me to understand our relationship with God and also how He cares about us as His children. We were at Hancock fabrics and I was to sew some curtains for her dining room. We had two lovely Waverly fabrics to choose from and neither of us could decide. So, she said “let’s pray.” Right there at Hancocks. Right in front of the fabric. She had already grabbed my hands and closed her eyes when I interrupted her with a laugh. “I don’t think God is going to drop everything and help us make a fabric decision! He has other things going on, like famine in Africa and peace in the Middle East.” Undeterred, she shined a benevolent smile on me and said “Mona, if you cannot trust God with the little things in your life, how will you trust Him with the big things?”

I am not often left speechless… I immediately bowed my head and we prayed fervently for the Elass family curtains. Turns out that He did help Cindy choose the most beautiful fabric. The curtains were perfect – just as the important lesson I learned about my perfect Father’s most perfect character. If we don’t trust Him in the little, we will not turn to Him in the big.

So tonight, I was reminded of the lesson I learned eight years ago at Hancocks and thus we prayed fervently for the sink. Right after my mother-in-law and I prayed, the plumber showed up. About an hour later, the sink was fixed and dinner is on again.

I thank God for all the things He  provides, including opportunities to daily strengthen our faith in Him as the loving Father who provides plumbers and curtains.

Lord, we thank you for the blessings you provide daily and for the people you place in our lives. We thank you for the blessings of today and those you will pour on us tomorrow. In all things, with prayer and thanksgiving, we turn to you. Amen.