A Double-Minded Manx

    This devotional about Bob was written a couple of months ago. I had selected this weekend to post it. Little did I know that when Bob eagerly zipped outside on the morning of January 17, that would be the last time we would see him. Mother chooses optimistically to hold on to our neighbor's encouraging statement, "Oh, he'll show up."  Nevertheless, the smart orange and white cat gave us times of joy and laughter each day. As this posting reveals, the furry manx taught us many important lessons about life.

    The Orange and white Manx cat dubbed "Bob" by my mother would have been characterized by my father as a "sensible" cat. Bob obeyed and responded correctly most of the time.
    Anyone who knows my mother understands that she and Dad never allowed animals indoors. Dad recalled that as children, his sisters tried to bring cats inside their little two-room house. He indicated that Grandma admonished sternly, "Get that cat out of here!"
    Before my parents knew of my allergies, however, as a preschooler, I could bring a cat into the kitchen - this was before they built the new house. I remember a couple of indoor incidents.
    One day as I carried a cat in my arms through the old-fashioned screen door that operated on a strong spring. It slammed behind the tabby cat and me before the tame tabby's tail got through the screen door! Poor Tabby Cat instinctively bit my arm in reaction to the sudden pain in its tail. Of course, as a three-year-old, I responded with tears. Mother explained it wasn't the cat's fault for biting me. I should have been more careful with the screen door. She seemed to convey that perhaps I should have played with the cat under the tree in the backyard where my homemade tree swing hung.
     The final time I brought a cat in the house as a child occurred when I sat rocking the cat in my little rocker in the kitchen. I continued rocking the kitten until Mother turned from her canning to see that my eyes were watering profusely and swelling shut! After that I understood - no more cats inside the house.
    For the last year, Bob came in for about 30 minutes each evening. I monitored him closely. He did not go into the newly carpeted living room or other rooms but remained primarily in the long hallway. Of course, he initially did not like the ceiling fan in the living room when it was operating. Nevertheless, he stayed out of the living room in accordance with our wishes.
     Mother stored her old newspapers in a brown paper sack. Bob found that to be a fun place to play. That happened a couple of times, but just by talking to him, he learned to avoid that activity.
     Most of the time when I called Bob's name, he came lumbering, looking like a little bear running across the yard since he had no tail. Recently I called him. He bounced toward me recognizing it was time to come in. Probably the truth be known, he was ready to eat. However, he paused to investigate the bird sounds from the east mimosa tree. I called his name again. He resumed his movement toward the backdoor, but then he heard another twitter of a bird. Bob stopped again to see if that was a prey worth pursuing. Finally, he responded to my call of his name and bounded into the screened-in porch to his food bowl.

Bob in a moment of doublemindedness

      As I gave Bob a gentle pat before going out to check the cattle, I thought, Bob, we humans are much like you. We are doubleminded, too.
      James, the half-brother of Jesus, wrote about conflicting desires within a person, warring against others in relationships, and an ultimate sense of dissatisfaction. He described that as doublemindedness.
     The passage in James 4:7-10 sets forth the solution. Submit to God. Resist the devil. Cleanse your hands. Purify your hearts.
      Submitting to God primarily involves reading His Word and obeying it. Resisting the Devil requires that I flee - the verb used by Paul  -  from Satan's debilitating influence. Daily going to God in prayer with an attitude that seeks forgiveness for actions that interfere with my relationship with Him ensures a cleansing of my hands. When I reevaluate my thoughts and attitudes, realigning them with the principles that God set up for my success, then I purify my heart.
    Just as Bob moved into doublemindedness when he lost focus of me and my command to come, we fail to prioritize our daily relationship with Him and in turn, falter in seeking to obey His ways. Then everything else eventually "goes south." Our initial distraction from the Lord leads to succumbing to Satan's wiles, "dirtying" our hands, staining our hearts, and reaping the consequences of our doublemindedness.
     Eugene Peterson, the renowned professor and pastor of a Maryland church for almost 30 years, states this passage in his idiomatic manner in The Message. Yet it conveys succinctly what God inspired through James. May we take it to heart so we can still our souls and bring peace to our families and our nation by becoming focused on Him, turning our backs on doublemindedness.

So let God work His will in you. Yell a loud no to the Devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and He’ll be there in no time. Quit dabbling in sin. Purify your inner life. Quit playing the field. Hit bottom, and cry your eyes out. The fun and games are over. Get serious, really serious. Get down on your knees before the Master; it’s the only way you’ll get on your feet.

Remembering the Last Gates Brother

James Franklin Gates – a Tribute

              James Franklin Gates was born on January 28, 1931, to Edmund Gates, Sr. and Mamie Irene Tripp Gates. My father, Edmund Gates, Jr., who was eleven years old at Little Jimmy’s birth, said William Herbert Gates, who was the baby at that time, took one look at the new baby with his mother and headed to the bunk house to begin sleeping with the big boys, Edmund, Jr., Fredrick, and Jess. Dad recalls my grandmother admonishing them, since little Herbie was only two and half years old, “Don’t you big boys roll over and smother little Herbert.”

William Herbert and James Franklin
Gates - from the collection of Lou
Dixon Gates and Jeannie Spurgeon
Gates.

            Soon, despite their rocky beginning, Herb and Jim bonded to the point that seldom were their names spoken separately. Those two boys hunted together until Herb’s hearing and health ended those exciting late night events. The two of them doubled the fun but also doubled the orneriness that they could get involved in doing. Dad mentioned acting “dumb” when his father asked him about the family truck having very little gas indicating it had been used the night before when all the time Edmund, Sr. had the key in his possession. Grandpa was an expert at driving a team and wagon but knew little about hot-wiring a pickup!

           My grandparents lived most of their 54 years of marriage on the Arkansas River on the west side of the Big Bend Community west of Ralston. Their children, especially their sons learned to love the river, primarily by hiking to the riverbank of their 95-acre farm located in Osage County in Oklahoma. Edmund Gates, Sr. taught his children from an early age to respect the river. He helped them learn the river was always more powerful than they were, and they must think any time they were near it or in it. When the boys became responsible enough to be trusted to go to the river unaccompanied by a parent, my grandmother, Mamie, said she always began counting heads as soon as she could see them emerging from the river bottom. She didn’t like the river but preferred the fishing in placid ponds.

The first summer in Jim’s memory was the summer of 1933, Dad age 14, and his brothers - Fredrick age 12 , Jess age 10, and Herbert age 5 were headed out on one of the most exciting outings possible on the farm in the summer – a trek to the Arkansas River for wading, swimming, and just on all-out good time. Little Jimmy, as they referred to their baby brother, began begging his mother to go with the big boys. Grandma, who feared the river more than respected it, was adamant that Little Jimmy was far too young to go to the river, but my father intervened for his baby brother, “Mom, let Little Jimmy go. I’ll look after him.” Evidently, Dad, the oldest living son, had shouldered much responsibility at a young age, having by this time four younger brothers, two older sisters, and a younger sister. He must have proven his trustworthiness to his mother over the years because she surprisingly agreed to let Little Jimmy go with the big boys.

                It is important to know my father looked little two-year-old Jimmy in the eye and with a tone exuding seriousness and sincerity, said, “Jimmy, you better do what I say, or you’ll never get to go to the river again with us.” Edmund grabbed his hand, and Jimmy walked with his big brothers to the river bottom.

                Upon arrival at the river, Dad found a safe, little pool so Jimmy could splash and play in the water. My father reiterated again, “Jimmy, stay right here and play. If you move, you’ll never come to the river with us again.” Little Jimmy obeyed perfectly. That was one of many fun-filled trips made by the brothers to the river bottom.

                One of the grade school principals under whom I taught thought my father would have only needed a couple of weeks to shape up some of the students’ behavior. Based on this family story, Dad learned to be an effective disciplinarian early in his life. Uncle Jim learned early what he needed to do to spend time having fun with his brothers.

                I am still astounded that a 14-year-old was willing to take on the responsibility for a little one as well as successfully get the two-year-old safely home. Even as a teen-ager, my father worked seven days a week rarely getting time off to do activities like going to the river, yet was so unselfish and thoughtful of the wishes of his baby brother. 
               How amazing that a little two-year-old was already so well trained that he could comprehend what was being expected of him by his mother and oldest brother and then even more unbelievable that he had the self-control to do it! They just don’t make them like these two anymore!

                My plan for this week had been to post the above stories about Uncle Jim in honor of his 85^th birthday that was to be celebrated on January 28^th. This was not to be. He passed from this life on Wednesday, January 18^th.

During his long battle with non-Hodgkins lymphoma, I never recall a complaint or the question, “Why me?” come from his lips. When I would visit with him and Lou, he always mustered a smile, usually recounted a humorous family story, and even as he weakened, at least a funny statement or two.

Lou and Jim Gates at my parents' 60th
Wedding Anniversary - photograph by
Catherine Marie Gates LeForce.

                Upon hearing of his death, I vividly remembered my last visit and his last words to me. He said, “Bernadean, come and see me" and then he paused and emphatically said, "Soon.”

As I reflected on his final words, I recalled Lou and Jim's account of a turning point in their young lives as newlyweds in January of 1954, over 60 years ago. Lou said that they knew people from the Big Bend Baptist Church were praying for them. The pastor, Ray T. Hart, and Jess Dittmar came to visit them. The two men took their Bibles and showed Jim and Lou the way of salvation to be assured of a place in heaven. While Bro. Hart talked with Jim, Bro. Dittmar explained to Lou that a person must believe that Jesus is God's Son and came to earth to die for her sins but rose from the dead. He turned to Romans 10:9-10 which says, If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.

That January day, both confessed Jesus as Lord, asking Him to forgive their sins, and committed their lives to follow Him. 

                In John 14:2-3, Jesus gave comfort and encouragement to those who have done just as Lou and Jim did in 1954, In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also.

                Then I thought of the moment that Uncle Jim took his final breath. The verse God inspired Paul to write of the apostle’s preference in II Corinthians 5:8 clearly explains that a believer in Jesus is with Him immediately at death. The verse states, We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord. (KJV)

                Back to Uncle Jim’s final good-bye to me - as I view it now -  it was an invitation to reunite with him in heaven – soon. This may be in death since the psalmist described the brevity of a human’s life, even a young life, in Psalm 102:11, My days are like the evening shadow; I wither away like grass. (NIV)

                A second way to see Jim again will be when Jesus comes back for His own. Jesus promised to return to earth for those who have their trust in Him. James reiterated this in James 5:8, You too, be patient; strengthen your hearts [keep them energized and firmly committed to God], because the coming of the Lord is near. (Amp)

                I think Uncle Jim’s last words to me are what he would say to all our family and his friends. Let us ready our hearts to be meet him again someday. The prophet, Amos, admonished the people of his day …Prepare to meet your God. (KJV)

                As I listened to Lou visit with the pastor in preparation for Jim’s funeral, I heard her say that one of their favorite verses was John 3:16, called by some “the gospel in a nutshell.” One of the best legacies we could carry on in Uncle Jim’s honor and memory would be to embrace John 3:16 with our hearts and lives, making his favorite verse ours, too.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

A Lofty Goal for a Little Girl

Why She Wanted to Learn to Read

Angie, my sister, began first grade at five years of age. Kindergarten classes were not offered at that time in the Ralston district. I had been teaching her letter recognition and formation as well as number recognition and formation since she was around two years old. My teaching aspiration kicked into high gear when a discarded school desk appeared along with a beat-up, large broken piece of blackboard that either Grandpa or Dad affixed to the east wall of the garage. Those junked items provided the impetus I needed to begin instructing Angie in earnest. Angie never balked at our little classes. Even at a young age, she had the capability to focus quite intently and master any skills I presented to her.

 Angie's perky anticipation to learn is evidenced in her first grade school photograph. Mother styled her long blonde hair in a bun, sprayed with hairspray, hoping to guarantee that not a hair would be out of place until after her picture was snapped. She wore a Gladys Rainey Smith custom-made dress. Grandma always tweaked the pattern. Our clothes never looked exactly like the illustration on the front of the pattern envelope. Subliminally, Grandma taught us to chart our own course in life just by the way she designed our homemade clothes.
             Angie arrived at first grade eager to become a fluent reader. Her primary motivation was to be able to read the Bible passage for our daily family Bible and prayer time that we had each evening in our home. At the time, the King James Version of the Bible was the one we were reading from each night. The reading level of this version of the Scriptures was determined to be at the least on eighth grade level. In some experts’ opinions, the readability of the KJV could be as high as twelfth grade. Suffice it to say, Angie had a lofty goal as an emergent reader!

Before her first grade year had ended, we had some evenings when a big Bible was spread across her lap as she read the planned passage for the night. She mastered phonics in her first-grade class. Angie flawlessly applied her “sounding out” skills to unfamiliar words she encountered. Using her strong, God-given voice, Angie conveyed the Word of God to our family. (Even with Dad's severe hearing impairment and stroke complications, he could articulate anything Angie said.)

As we embark on the new year of 2017, much talk surrounds resolutions, goals, lifestyle changes, and personal improvement. Choices to better ourselves physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually can be traced to a scriptural origin. Paul wrote to the believers in I Corinthians 6:19-20: Do you not know that your body is a sanctuary of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body.

Gladys Rainey Smith's Bible 
Probably the Bible from which Angie wanted to read.

Since Jesus redeemed us with the price of His life that we could never pay, our gratitude for the grace and forgiveness should motivate us to keep the “temple” in optimal condition in line with His guidelines. Our bodies belong to Him. The Holy Spirit resides within anyone who belongs to Christ. You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to Him. (Romans 8:9). So, our desire to have healthier bodies should stem from our desire to please Him.  This short, but powerful prayer should be on our lips – God, I want to honor You with my physical stamina, healthiness, emotional endurance, and mental stability. That can come about “not by might, not by power, but by Your spirit.” May You be praised by my life this year.

The Bible belonging to my grandfather, Calvin
Callcayah Smith. What a Biblical student Grandpa
was - even though he only got to attend school
through the fourth grade!

Finally, Angie’s determination to be the family reader of the Bible reveals possibly one of the greatest resolutions or goals that one could have for the new year. When we read God’s Word, we are enabling ourselves to hear the very words of our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. No goal could be loftier. Hearing what He has for us even supersedes our need to pray. In no way do I diminish prayer, but me hearing from Him is more important than Him hearing me. May our resolve to read His scripture rank at the top of our list of goals. Whether reading from a scripture app on your phone or using a print copy of His word, let’s read the Bible and put what we read into practice in 2017.

The Cold, the Cat, and My Concern

I wrote this on Thursday night, January 5. Writing it had a focusing effect on me and encouraged me to seek my strength and direction from the right source.

Reflecting on Myself as a 21^st Century Wimp

                December had some cold temperatures with bitter wind chills. Now January presents us with frigid Arctic readings. Those of us living in this age of overload from advice, alerts, and warnings  may find ourselves inundated. My problem commences when I begin believing everything I hear instead of using my common sense.

                Cats on the farm have always slept in a huddle in the barn or chicken houses or any of 101 other cozy locations on the farm. Since Bob sleeps by himself on the unheated back porch, I began the thought process, in the summer, about providing the orange and white manx cat necessary warmth during the winter months.

                In August, I initiated the first stage of Bob’s winter sleeping accommodations. Preparing for the bone-chilling temperatures of winter, he needed a cozy compartment. Angie brought Mother two large sofa pillows in a huge cardboard box.  I repurposed the large box to house the little sleeping cube that Bob liked. The thin foam packing sheets surrounding the decorative pillows provided an additional insulation for the outside of the large box. I applied the foam sheets to the outside of the box with strong tape and staples.

Bob and Tailer sleeping in the little cube when
they were younger. Bob usually let Tailer in first,
 then got in himself, and put his back to the
 circular opening. This photo was taken in warmer
 weather in 2015. Bob still likes the little cube.

                When September rolled around, the second phase kicked in. I recycled an old long pillow to insulate the back of the box that would face the north side of the porch. A couple of discarded cattle pellet bags additionally shielded the top of the box.

                In October, when the nights began to cool, I placed the little cube inside the box. To my surprise, Bob quickly acclimated to his new “digs.” I was surprised because sometimes he is cautious and a little slow to warm up to changes.

                By November, I had draped an old bathmat on the top of the well-insulated box, so the little circular opening of the cube would be protected from the wind. Bob adjusted well to the “old bathmat” door.

                Then the frigid temperatures and record-breaking wind chills appeared on the long-range forecast. Using recycled newspapers, I bound about ten newspapers together in three bundles. One  bundle was placed on the right and the left sides of the Bob’s little sleeping cube, with the third packet of newspapers placed in front of the cube. Bob made it fine during those freezing nights, always eager to get out to his cozy bed each morning.

                Then the first week of January blew into our lives. I prepared all I could for the care of the cattle during the predicted subfreezing weather. Since it wasn’t going to be as cold as December had been, I felt that Bob would be fine.

                He always comes in to play and eat around 10 p.m. This winter he has every night, without exception, relished going out to his sleeping quarters. Except tonight.

                He had been out most of the day, “running and gunning” so I knew he had tolerated the cold fine. However, when he came in at 10 tonight, he stretched out near the kitchen central heating floor vent to groom himself. Within fifteen minutes, he was ready to drift off. This never happens.

                I coaxed him to the back door, but for the first time this winter, he balked. I carried him out – unheard of. I stood out by him while he drank his water.

                My own concern fueled his hopes to get to come back inside. I checked on him several times, only to find him stretched up on the screen door on his hind legs, as though begging to get to come back in. Finally, my sound thinking returned.

                I left my post at the back door and told Mother, “Dad had colder sleeping quarters for most of his life than Bob -  that is until Dad went to the air force!”
               She chuckled and agreed and said softly, "Bob just wants to be with you." What a crafty little cat he is!

                I reflected on the temperature of the bunk house where Dad and his brothers slept. The bunk house had no heat source in it. Few houses in the Bend had any type of insulation in the first half of the 20th century.

                A faint memory popped into my mind about Dad talking about a frozen water bucket in their house. Mother responded, “I am sure their water bucket did freeze. Even in our house, the surface of the water bucket froze. Daddy tried to put green wood in the wood stove at night so it would smolder throughout the night as the temperatures dipped dangerously low, but often the fire went out.”

Mother said Dad snapped
this photo at the Jefferson
house in the 1950s.

                Curiously, I researched low temperatures for Oklahoma during January at www.weather.gov. A quick glance revealed extremely cold temperatures in January of 1930. Dad would have been 10 years old. I recalled his tales of Arthur Wulf and him ice skating for miles on the Arkansas River. He would usually say, “But you can’t do that nowadays.”

                Then I realized what a wimp I had allowed myself to be by overreacting to all the warnings. I realize our ancestors didn't need warnings to not leave animals tethered outside with no shelter. Nevertheless, Bob had a much cozier sleeping area than my father and his brothers. Yet how strong they grew up to be!

                Mother and I reminisced how Dad never backed down from a job – no matter how cold, how dirty, how dangerous, or just down right hard and physically demanding. Yet neither did he brag about what he had accomplished. Then my mother, Bernyce Smith Gates, the woman who dated him for eight years and was married to him for 67 years, said, “I never heard him complain.”

Dad loved and used the hat from Angie and Ben
for Christmas in 1997. The coat was just too
heavy for him to work in. He politely kept it but
used it only on extremely cold occasions -
maybe when going to town. I chuckle seeing the
tag on the hat sticking straight up. He was so
comfortable in his own skin that nothing ever 
embarrassed him!

                What a reality check on endurance and not being a wimp! This applies in my spiritual life as well. Paul said to Timothy in the last letter before he was beheaded for his faith, “Endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.”

                He continued telling Timothy to endure, suffer, and keep studying the word of truth. Interestingly, Paul warned him to “avoid all empty (vain, useless, idle) talk, for it will lead people into more and more ungodliness.” (II Timothy 3:16 – AMPC). In no way, do I equate my fixation on weather warnings for pets to idle talk, but we do have to guard whose words and ideas come into our minds and how we process them.
                 In that same passage, Paul, who was imprisoned in Rome, requested a cloak - no doubt, his body ached from lying on the cold, stone floor of a dank, dark dungeon, He also asked for the parchments or copies of the Hebrew scriptures, the Old Testament. As we do, the Apostle Paul needed warmth for his physical body and his heart.
                God, may I study and know Your Word well enough to reject empty, useless words that are detrimental. Then may I be strong in You through Your Word and have the courage to do what is right. 

Note: A blog posting that I refer to as Janice's Story really helps me in staying strong in the Lord. It can be accessed at: http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2016/08/influenced-by-experience.html

On the Path of Humility for Success in the New Year

As we transitioned from the Christmas season to the beginning of a new year, I thought about two years after the first Christmas. That era marked one of the worst times in Jewish history. Herod the Great ruled the region known as Judea from his palace in Jerusalem. A mysterious caravan of sophisticated dignitaries appeared seeking the newborn king.

Herod was stunned at the description newborn king. His frenzied anxiety, birthed in insane jealousy and fear of being ousted, fueled an exhaustive search for this tiny one that he perceived as a threat to his power. Ultimately, the scroll of  Micah's prophesy, written about 800 years prior to the birth of Jesus, revealed the ruler would be born in Bethlehem, one of the small towns in Herod’s jurisdiction. He sent the wise men to locate the infant monarch with the instruction to report back to him so he could worship Him, too.

The wicked leader of the region exploded with anger when he recognized the magi and their entourage did not respond to his demands. Unknown to him, God warned them to return to the east by a different route. His rage escalated into a horrific edict ordering the annihilation of all male babies under the age of two years of age.

As a toddler, my maternal grandmother read a Bible story book to me. It had very few pictures. However, it had a line drawing of a soldier with a sword in one hand and a baby in the other. As a preschooler, I scratched the weapon into oblivion. Ironically, my mother taught respect and care of my books, but this one drawing was defaced by a little one who realized what an evil action King Herod had taken against precious baby boys.

Matthew recorded that an angel warned Joseph to quickly and stealthily convey Mary and God’s tiny Son to the safety of Egypt. Another illustration of this Biblical account entered my life when I was seven years of age. My maternal grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith, ordered a set of classical paintings illustrating Biblical stories. In the boxes, I discovered a record in Grandma’s handwriting that listed the pictures of the Bible stories that she read to me in 1963.

The Heading of Grandma's Record

  The New Testament set included a moving depiction by Luc Oliver Merson, the French artist born in 1846, entitled Rest on the Flight into Egypt. The weary travelers found the Sphinx as a point to stop while escaping the terror of Herod the Great.  Mary can be seen between the paws of the massive structure with the endangered Christ Child on her lap, with Joseph sleeping at the base of the Sphinx. Surrounded by the darkness of the night, in the vast desert, the eeriness of safety would seem to be the foremost concern. Yet the three rest peacefully in the security of the protection of the Baby’s Heavenly Father.

A copy of the painting panel from the set Grandma
shared with me in 1963. (Just a note -  the scripture
 does not record that the three rested at the Sphinx.)
The original painting is in the collections of the
Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, Massachusetts. 
(An online search of Rest on the Flight into Egypt 
can yield the beautiful painting.)

              Even though house after house in the hillside country of Bethlehem was invaded ruthlessly and every boy infant found was destroyed viciously by the demon-inspired ruler of the area, the tiny Son of God’s mission was unthwarted. The prophesy in Micah (chapter 5, verse 2) accurately predicted the exact spot where the Savior would be born and its reading tipped Herod off to enact his dastardly infanticide. Yet as we launch into a new beginning, I reflected on another passage in Micah – one to be a beacon for 2017.

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you?

To act justly

And to love mercy

And to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8 -NIV

 John Tillotson, the Archbishop of Canterbury in the mid-1600s, commented that this verse identified the two important types of relationships in our existence – interacting with other humans and relating to God. When Jesus was asked about the greatest commandment, He delineated that first one must love the Lord with all one’s heart, soul, mind, and strength – that defined the relationship with God. He knew it set the stage for all the rest of life. Then Jesus said to “Love your neighbor as yourself.” This command instructed how to relate to others - whether relatives, friends, neighbors, or coworkers.

Micah said to “act justly.” I remember telling my third graders, “Just do what is right.” How easily it is to do what  “feels right” instead of actually doing what we know deep within is the right action to take! Usually doing the right thing involves thinking of others rather than ourselves.

Secondly, Micah wrote “to love mercy.” Several translations said to “love kindness.” If mercy is shown, our relative or coworker will not receive what they deserve. We will choose to show kindness. Stephen Covey in his book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change said, “Seek first to understand, then to be understood.” Parents must remember sometimes showing kindness will reveal itself as tough love. 

Finally, the Prophet Micah, in the 8^th century B.C., encouraged his hearers to walk humbly with your God. He didn’t say to soar, run, fly, or sail with the Lord. The idea of walking entailed a daily, step-by-step journey with our Creator who desired an ongoing relationship with those He made and sent His Son to redeem. In no way did the Lord intend for us to just call when we need Him in an emergency like an ungrateful, demanding child. Neither did He plan for us to live with the attitude – Thanks, but no thanks, God. I’ve got this one.

As we begin 2017, let’s not let a day pass without time in the word of God and genuine prayer. May we guard against our prayer merely being a list of wants. Every day may He hear us say, “I want to obey You and please You.” Let’s be sure to sprinkle our conversation with Him with specific thankfulness. 

It seems appropriate to close with a word of admonishment from personal experience. The vertical interactions with others - acting justly and loving mercy - can only proceed from walking humbly with your God. The adverb humbly denotes our inability to do this on our own. He is the one that enables us to successfully live with those around us. Only our relationship with Him can provide the necessary strength and motivation to do the right thing with the spirit of kindness toward those we daily encounter in 2017.