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November 17, 2003 Dear Gabby, Somehow I happened on ninetyandnine.com last spring. I don’t really know how I found it. At first, I didn’t pay that much attention to it, but then I started reading it. It brought back a lot of memories and most of them were bad. I saw people hurting others and a lot of double standards. At one time I wanted to be an Apostolic, but I did not like what I saw in the church. People would shout their praises to God on Sunday, and on Monday be hateful with people they disagreed with. Sometimes I will hear an old Gaither song and wonder, what if… Thanks for hearing me out. Miss Wonders What If in West Virginia Dear Miss Wonders, My dear Harry and I were married for 52 ½ years, and I learned to love his family as much as I did my own. His sister Bess was a lovely woman who treated her family well and loved her neighbors and her God. But she had one fault that I struggled with all through the years I knew her. I discovered this fault on a trip out West. Harry and I, along with Bess and her husband Lee, decided to go on a vacation out to California to see the big Sequoia forest of trees. Lee and Bess had heard about the giant trees from Lee’s uncle, and we decided one summer that we’d take a trip out there to see them. We planned and saved and packed our food baskets and clothes (and the tire repair kit) and headed out one gorgeous morning in June. I was so excited and full of exclamations about how lovely the sun was and how the trees were such a bright green and how the car was running so nicely. Bess’ answer to me was to say that what we were seeing was nothing compared to what we were going to see. We drove through the cornfields and the sunflower fields and wheat fields. I thought the corn was beautiful and told everyone so. I asked Harry if he thought it’d be “knee-high by the 4th of July.” He allowed that it probably would. The wheat fields were beautiful, too. They were like flowing water when they were swaying in the breeze. The yellow sunflower fields were so bright that my eyes could hardly stand to look at them fully. Bess wasn’t impressed. “Just wait until we see the trees,” she’d say, refusing to enjoy the beauty around us. Then, we began to see the Rocky Mountains in the horizon. They were magnificent. Bess leaned her head against the window of the car and fell asleep. Driving through the Rocky Mountains, we came upon one breathtaking vista after another and there was such beautiful grandeur that I had tears in my eyes. She didn’t care. “I’m on this trip to see the trees,” she’d say, pulling out the sweater she was knitting. “When I see the trees, then I’ll be impressed.” We had three flat tires that had to be repaired on the way to California. Even then, while Harry and Lee were working on the tire, I found beauty. There was the delicate lavender columbine flower I picked by the side of the road that’s still pressed into the pages of our old family Bible. I saw a doe darting through the trees another time while waiting for the tire to be fixed. Bess just knitted. When we finally made it to California to see the trees, they were definitely beautiful and grand and old and spectacular. I enjoyed them thoroughly. But I had also enjoyed the trip there. Was Bess impressed? It was hard to tell. She’d spent the whole trip refusing to look at the beauty around her, and by the time we got to our destination, I’m not sure she knew how to take pleasure in it. On the whole trip, she enjoyed only the three days we were in California. I had a good time and saw the beauty for the entire two weeks of our trip! When I read your letter, I was reminded of Bess and that trip. Happy people don’t expect everything to be perfect. They choose to see the beauty in people—even though the people have faults. The older I get (and I’m probably older than anyone you know!), the more I’m bothered by the idea that a church is supposed to be led by a perfect pastor and attended by perfect people. Where did that idea come from? What people seem to miss is the fact that each person at the church, including the person being critical, is on the road, heading toward the final destination of heaven and each of us are at different places on the road. There is beauty at each stage of the trip. The imperfect people around us in our churches have not arrived yet. Nor have we. And I’m not even there myself, even though I’ve served God the better part of a century! Instead of expecting perfection, we should be enjoying the beauty of God’s creation around us—including the imperfect people who work for the church and who sit near us there. If you choose not to attend church and serve God, it’s your loss. Like my sister-in-law Bess, you’re missing out on a lot! Sincerely Sincere, Gabby ninetyandnine.com © 2003, ninetyandnine.com --------- Gabrigail VanBurden has been offering advice for longer than most of you have been alive. Email your practical Apostolic life questions to Gabby@ninetyandnine.com and be prepared for some straight answers! |
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