America In Decline

Recently, Nancy and I made a cross country trip. I've talked a little bit about it already, here.

Somewhere along the way a strange sensation came over me as I realized a number of things.

• I've been driving 70 or better the whole way on big, clean highways.

• I've dodged no potholes.

• There are signs telling me how to find the next town.

• There are signs warning me of construction, miles ahead of time.

• I haven’t been hassled by anyone at any checkpoint.

• Over 1,600 miles and I don’t need my passport.

• Clean bathrooms… and toilet paper in all of them!

• All the stinking restaurants are full.

I keep hearing that we are an America in decline. In trouble. In recession. With huge unemployment. Financially on the brink of destruction. 

All of that may be true. People I care about have lost their jobs and businesses, some have filed bankruptcy and our national debt is in the stratosphere. 

But if this is America in a shambles, we have been supremely blessed. I’m ashamed that I don’t wake up every day and thank God that I get to live here… it may even be sinful not to.

Nancy and I have been a lot of places. We've seen some pretty grim living situations.

I’m humbled by the fact that I didn't do anything to get to live in this great nation; a nation, even in difficulty, that has a comfort and ease of life that eclipses much of the world. 

No matter the fate of America, I long for the day of a new heaven and a new earth when we all, my siblings living in prosperity and those in poverty, will finally be home. 

Geese HONK!

Recently we spent some time with some friends who live in an apartment near a pond. Each day we’d take walks, with their precious 19 month old girl, down to the pond to watch the geese.

Apparently, these Canadian geese ware naturalized, because they spend the entire year swimming in this pond and grazing in the large grassy field of the apartments.

They were beautiful and graceful as they would glide into the pond and on the water. There were at least 30 strong and healthy geese flying and swimming effortlessly around the area.

Then one started to honk.

Have you ever heard a gaggle? They are loud. It’s not a pretty songbird kind of loud, it’s an obnoxious, incessant honking and squawking kind of loud. It was so loud and long at one point some poor soul screamed manically out of his second story window, “SHUT UP!” They didn't seem to notice.

The other thing I noticed as we walked around the area is, you have to be careful where you step. If the geese have been there, they've left evidence, like rancid breadcrumbs leading them back to the pond.

That’s when it hit me, geese are like people.

People squawk. They whine, moan and complain about almost anything. It’s too hot, too cold, the traffic is awful, he cut me off, I always get in the wrong line, I hate my job, my family, my life. You can get pretty weary listing to all of it and at some point you just want to say, “SHUT UP!”

And if you deal with someone long enough, at some point, you’re going to step in it. We have no idea the… “stuff” people have been through. It is only a matter of time before you say or do something that is going to require some clean up.

With all the squawking and shoe cleaning you have to do, it’s easy to forget how beautiful people are. If we stop and watch, we can see the beauty. If we take the time to hear their story, we’ll better understand the reason for the mess.

The thing about beauty is, sometimes you have to sit still and watch to see it. 

What's Wrong With Women?

I've been fortunate in my life to have been surrounded by some pretty brilliant and gifted women. My mom, sister, aunts and cousins all had a huge impact on me.

Being a younger brother and the youngest cousin on either side of the family, with no boys close to my age, did have its drawbacks (don’t ask me about the dresses, I still refuse to speak about the dresses) but I learned so much.

And, by God’s grace and Nancy’s patience, I have been married to an amazing woman for over 25 years. Through her servants heart, wit and grace she has been a gift to me; one that has taught me so much about Christ’s love in action.

But throughout my life there seems to be one thing that is a constant; a common thread that runs throughout the gender. Like the droning of a jet engine at the airport, it’s always there, in the background, whining at various levels of intensity.  It’s insecurity.

Our society has made women feel… inadequate, not good enough, lesser. I don’t think men understand this. Because we are wired so differently we don’t realize how the things we encounter every day shout at the ladies around us that they don’t measure up. Nothing demonstrates this more effectively than this Dove commercial and this parody it inspired.

Men have their own battles with the hypersexualization and objectification of women in our society. You can’t get away from it. Billboards, commercials, posters, news articles, sports pages, the entire stinking entertainment industry all beckon.

What they say to women is an entirely different thing. “You’re not pretty enough. Your nose is too big. Butt is too fat. Legs are shaped funny. You’re too short. Too tall. You’ll never be beautiful. You’re ugly. Unworthy. You should hate yourself. No one will ever really love you.”

I know very few women where this feeling is not in there somewhere, lurking below the surface, constantly questioning their value at various levels of intensity.

Men, we don’t tell our wives often enough how beautiful they are. I am ashamed of how infrequently Nancy hears it from me. It’s time for that to change. Tell them. Write songs and poems. The Song of Solomon is in there for a reason.  Use it if you need some pointers (warning NSFW).

Ladies, God is the one who formed you. Uniquely, intentionally and beautifully. Don’t let anyone make you feel less than you are… especially yourself. To do so denies the value of God’s creation. You are a wonder and it’s time to believe it.

Trouble Trusting God

I’m having trouble trusting God. Nancy and I work for a “faith mission” which means we trust God will provide the money we need, through the kindness of his people. The problem is, it hasn't worked out recently.

For over 15 years people have generously supported us. But over the past couple of years our support has slowly declined. More recently it’s taken some significant hits. 

It’s nobody’s fault. People have lost jobs, gone bankrupt and needed their money for other things. My struggle is, now we are so badly underfunded wonder if we’ll be able to dig out of the hole. 

Can God do it? Yes. Will he? I don’t know. 

Maybe it’s time to move on. Funding is one of our final “qualifiers” for a life in missions, though sometimes I wonder if it’s a very good one. I've watched a number of families walk through this and it can be pretty scary. 

You start looking at the consequences:  Am I going to have to leave the field? But my kids love their school. But my wife loves her job. I've been out of the market for years and I’m middle aged, who will even hire me? 

I’m sure our supporters who've lost their jobs over the past few years have shared many of the same fears.

It’s hard not to look at the problems. Like Peter watching the waves, it can feel like you’re sinking. Trusting is a choice. It’s a decision to look back to Christ and take his hand, because really, there are no other options.  So again today, that’s what I’ll try to do. 

We don’t need a lot of money, just a lot of people. Just $10 a month could make the difference for us... we just need 200 people to believe it.

If you’d pray about that, I would appreciate it. Also, if you would consider reposting this, chatting with your friends, find out if your small group or church would like to help, I would be grateful.

If you’d like to know more about what we do you can check out this website: https://reachbeyond.org/missionaries/read/jeff-and-nancy-ingram-1. If you’d like to know about Reach Beyond as a whole go to https://reachbeyond.org/.

The Sleep Prayer

I've bumped into some young families recently and they have reminded me of “The Sleep Prayer.” You know the one. 

You pray it at 1:30 in the morning holding an agitated, grouchy, teething little body. You pray it after a fifteen minute drive as you try to carefully transfer a sleeping toddler form the car seat to the bed. You pray it in the evening, hoping for a few minutes of alone time together before you collapse in a heap.

It goes like this, “GOD PLEASE MAKE THIS BABY GO TO SLEEP!!”

It’s been a long time since we've had little ones in the house and I’d forgotten the prayer. But it’s like riding a bike; it comes right back to you.

In our “garage door” society, I worry that we’re so isolated older couples aren't investing in younger ones. Maybe younger couples don’t even believe they need it. I guess you can Google anything now.

So I googled “It’s 1:30 in the morning my baby is crying and I don’t know what to do!” There were some pleasant articles for an afternoon read, including one titled “5 steps to get your baby to nap for a long freaking time" (which may have been more offensive than helpful).  But there wasn't anything that would really help a parent so exhausted and anxiety ridden they’re ready to strangle their child.

As the world changes and young couples leave family and friends for jobs somewhere else around the world, I’m struck with the immense need for the church to be the church.

There is tremendous power in hearing, “It’s OK. I've felt that way too. If you need a break, I’ll come help you. It will get better.” Young moms and dads need to hear those words. They need “adopted” grandparents, aunts and uncles. They need to know there’s someone to call.

There is wisdom, encouragement and help available. If you've lived through it and aren't offering it, maybe you should rethink that. If you’re living through it now and have asked for it… God help you.  

Mother's Day

I am aware today, on Mother’s Day, that there are those who are struggling. Some may have had a bad mom, lost a mom, never known their mom or are maybe even mourning the loss of motherhood. For them, today may be a bitter day, and I am sorry. That is not my story.

Most everything I know about relationship, I learned from my mother.

Mom hugged me goodbye every day before school, right before she fixed my hair. She would hug me when I got home as well. She read somewhere that everyone needed eight hugs a day and she believed it.

Every night I returned from a date she would be there, sitting on the couch reading her Bible. There was a time I thought it was a grand plan to make me feel guilty if I had been up to something, but I think the reality was she cared enough about me to be awake when I got home, and cared enough about her God to spend time with him, until I arrived.

One such evening a friend of mine came to pick me up to go to a party. She was driving her family’s giant blue station wagon, the kind with the rear facing back seat. She pulled into the driveway and I hopped in the car. I can’t remember for sure, but if I wasn’t driving, she was probably barely 16 and I was still jealous.

Our neighbor was the kind of lady who had her sewing table at her second story window because, “it had the best light.” It also gave her the best view of the neighborhood. She had also parked her car directly behind our driveway across the street.

Apparently she was “sewing” when my friend tried, over and over, to back her land yacht out of our driveway, trying to avoid the thoughtful neighbor’s car. Eventually, we sped off happily, on our way to fill up her car with 28 more friends.

Later in the week my mom came to me and our conversation went something like this,

Mom: Did you guys hit Mrs. ‘So and So’ car the other night?
Me: What?
Mom: When you backed out, did you hit it?
Me: What?
Mom: Mrs. ‘So and So’ wants to know who was driving the car the other night so she can contact her. She believes you guys bumped her car when while backing up.

Of course I was indignant. We walked over to the car and mom showed me a little ding in the car door. With all of the forensic knowledge I had acquired at 15 I said, “Someone’s car door hit that in a parking lot. Her bumper couldn’t have made that mark. There was no way we hit it, I would have felt it.” Mom just said, “OK” and we walked away.

When I pushed her on what she was going to do Mom said, “Write her a check.”

“What?” (I had a great vocabulary back then)

Mom: Well, you said you didn’t hit it, so it wouldn’t be fair to give her your friend’s name. Mrs. ‘So and So’ believes you hit the car so we need to pay for its repair.

I was furious. The injustice drove me crazy. Why should we have to pay for a ding in the door of a grouchy old woman when it wasn’t our fault? Mom’s reply,

“The relationship is more important.”

The world would be a much better place if we remembered those five simple words. Life isn’t about cars, or getting my way or sometimes even “justice.” It’s about relationship. My mom taught me that. And on this Mother’s Day I pray I will never forget it.

Sparse to Spring

I love Colorado. I could see us living there the rest of our lives, though I don’t say “forever” anymore. Its beauty can be awe-inspiring, there’s so much to do and there are so many days of sunshine. I love it!

The only drawback is, with all of that sun, there’s not a lot of moisture on the eastern planes. It’s hard to make things grow, so there is a lot of brown, especially in the winter.

Recently, Nancy and I got in the car and started heading east. Coming down out of the altitude’s cool dry air, into the flooded Mississippi Valley was mesmerizing. It was like Spring happened before our eyes. In a matter of hours, instead of weeks, we went from the brown of a Colorado winter into the lush green of Iowa. 

I can’t imagine anyone east of the Mississippi describing Iowa as lush, but the grass was more thick and green than 70’s shag. Nancy had to take her shoes off and walk in it. Seriously!

The rest of the drive we sounded like a broken record, “It’s so green! It’s so green!” It’s amazing how warmth and moisture can change an environment. It breathes life.

I think the same is true of encouragement and the human soul. It amazes me how a few kind words can revitalize a heart and change a person’s countenance. Encouragement can shatter the dam of stagnation to release a river of action. It breathes life.

I mourn that I have the hardest time encouraging the people closest to me. Daily problems of life invade and they get the affirmation leftovers. I pray that as God reminded me, his beauty is found everywhere, I will remember every heart needs encouragement… especially those who already know you love them.

Climbing Mountains

When we lived in Ecuador the boys and I decided to climb Pichincha, the volcano that rises above Quito. It's not a technical climb, one of the easier ones in the country, but at 15,000 ft it's higher than any point in the continental U.S.

I don't really know anything about mountain climbing, but what I leaned from that trip was, what looks like a gently sloping grassy hillside from a distance, can really be a steep, rutty, thorny journey when you get up close.

I think the same can be true in life. When we start looking at other people's journeys we can start to make comparisons. From a distance the lives of the people always looks pretty smooth. You can start to wonder why they don't have any challenges.

Maybe our climb is going great and we look down at them and wonder why they're going so slowly and falling so often. From a distance, everyone's mountains look simple.

It is only when we journey together that we are able to truly understand. Only then can we see their backpacks weighted down with a history of baggage. Only then can we understand the complications of their trail.

Generally, if we’re humble enough to walk together and hear someone’s journey our condemnation turns to consolation. A few minutes on someone else’s mountain and we become thankful for our own.

Life is a wonderful dangerous beautiful broken mountain trail. It will be a lot safer, and a lot more fun, if we walk it together.  

I'm Finally Cool!

So I have this motorcycle. It’s small, a Yamaha Verago 250. I think my boss’s Nissan Titan probably has better pickup. But it can hold me and Nancy as we zip around town on date night, and gets me back and forth to work. At 70 mpg, it’s hard to beat.

My first significant little trip was a half hour drive up to Monument, to visit a park I like there. I was headed north on US 85, a little safer than the interstate for a scared little biker, when something strange happened.

A guy, on a motorcycle heading toward me, slowly reached out his hand. I thought, “What’s he doing? Is he pointing at something? Is there something wrong with my bike? How can he tell I don’t know what I’m doing?”

Then I realized, “HE’S WAIVING!” I was being waved at by a motorcyclist! I was accepted! I was in a club! I was finally cool! Of course by this time the guy was flying by me and I flailed my arm awkwardly to return the gesture. I drove on, still a nerd, but warmed by the knowledge that no one could really tell who was under the helmet.

Maybe it’s just me but I think we all have a deep need to belong. We’ll do some weird stuff to be accepted by whatever group we covet. We put on all kinds of masks and suits to be let in. We’ll even sacrifice our own views and feelings to avoid being ostracized.

A lot of times Christians say things like, “God should be enough for you” and maybe that’s true. I wonder though, because God made Eve for Adam and said, “It is not good for man to be alone.” Even tough guy Paul couldn't walk through doors God had opened for ministry because his buddy Titus wasn't with him.

God gave us to each other for acceptance, encouragement and love (and sometimes confrontation). Hopefully we can find that in a body of believers. Unfortunately, sometimes we feel like we have to put on a helmet and ride a motorcycle.

Wherever you are, know that you are loved and accepted by God and even by me. You don’t even have to have a motorcycle.