Karen Wingate | Author at Grace on Parade

February 26, 2013 by Karen Wingate 2 Comments

Wrestling With Grace

“If you go to YouTube and type in the search box – “middle school, wrestler, Jared” you will find a short video of Jared winning his first wrestling match ever. While this in itself really isn’t noteworthy, the way it was accomplished is.”

So began a wonderful Communion meditation on the idea of sacrifice that Don, one of our church leaders, shared last Sunday. Don graciously agreed to allow me to post his thoughts in this week’s Grace on Parade blog.

Don continued:

“You see, Jared suffers from a severe form of Cerebral Palsy and has the muscle function of a six-month old child. The coach had to carry Jared to the middle of the mat and lay him on his back. Now, for anyone that knows anything about wrestling, that’s not the ideal position to begin in but that, was the only option available.

“While this is taking place, another Jr. High athlete approaches the mat from the opposite side and takes the usual upright starting position next to Jared. The referee motions for the two wrestlers to shake hands (Jared’s opponent has to lean over and take Jared’s hand in order to shake it), the whistle is blown and the match begins. For a few seconds, Jared’s opponent moves from side to side making it look as realistic as possible and then acts as if he slips on the mat and ends up lying next to him. He then takes Jared’s arm and pulls Jared’s body across his chest. The referee jumps down beside the two boys, slaps the mat and blows his whistle one more time. The match is over and Jared earns his first pin. The coach runs out, picks up Jared and carries him off the mat to the sounds of a cheering crowd.

It is at this point that you need to watch the video very closely. While all the attention is on Jared (including the camera), it is interesting to watch Jared’s opponent after the match. He gets a little pat on the back by the referee as he walks back to his team. A couple of his fellow wrestlers shake his hand but it appears to be more of a “sorry you lost” handshake rather than “because of what you did, you gave that kid something he’ll remember the rest of his life” handshake. The kid finds his chair, sits down, and the film clip is over.

“It only last a little over a minute, but what a powerful minute it is.

“Where are you and I in this clip? It would be nice to say that we are the unnamed athlete that sacrifices his own win-lose record to give something to another person that he could never get for himself. Maybe we’re the coach that sees a person with a need and we make the necessary arrangements to fulfill that need. I mean you know that the coach had to make a phone call or two or at least have a conversation with the other team’s coach to set this up. That the other coach had to look at his team and ask for a volunteer to help pull this off and perform this very unselfish act. Maybe we’re the parent that has a child that just wants to be like everyone else and because of our deep love for him or her, we ask those in charge to make allowances or we go out of our way to make that happen. I suppose at times in our lives we can, and have, played all those roles, but not now, not at this time.

“At this time, as we meet around this communion table, we are Jared and we celebrate not because of our own victory over sin and death, but that Christ fought the battle for us and gave us the victory. In His perfect and sinless state, he took the sins of the world past, present and future, and allowed himself to be beaten and crucified so that we could have the victory. The question then becomes, what is our response to that? Do we give him a pat on the back or a token handshake? Or are we doing everything we possibly can to make sure that sacrifice was worth the price…in our lives and in the lives of those we encounter every day?”

Thanks, Don.

February 22, 2013 by Karen Wingate Leave a Comment

The Fragrance of Jesus

What is your favorite perfume? Charlie? Emeraude? Chanel #5?

Some people consider the choice of perfume to be quite a science. The scent of perfume smells different with it interacts with body chemistry than the scent in the bottle. What smells good on you may not smell so sensational on others, so some believe, and we are attracted to scents that smell best on us.

For years, my favorite has been Jovan Musk for Women. I went through a period of time where I liked White Shoulders but my hand always hovers over the Jovan when it’s time every five years to replenish my perfume. I have never cared for the uber-flowery scents; instead, I like the stronger scent of musk that states, “I am different than most perfumes for women.” Maybe the perfume is interacting with my rebellious streak.

No accounting for taste. Or smell, for that matter. Personal preferences keep the perfume industry, a $27.5 billion business according to www.statisticbrain.com, smelling sweet.

I think someone somewhere ought to manufacture the scent of homemade bread. Chocolate chip cookies would be a nice alternative. That would send sales soaring.

A friend once told me she used to be one of those persistent sales clerks at an upscale department store who stood near the door with a tester bottle, offering incoming customers a spray of the latest eau. A rule of perfume etiquette, she told me, was that one is to never mix scents. For example, you don’t wash with vanilla bean shower gel, rub Japanese cherry blossom lotion into your hands, then spray Emeraude on your neck pulse points. It confuses those you want to attract. Your package of body scents needs to carry one theme only. I confess I break that rule every day.

Her observation made me realize something. When I remember to spray on my favorite cologne, people will comment, “You smell good.” Pause. “What are you wearing?” The attention swiftly moves from me to the source of the scent.

2 Corinthians 2:14 says that God uses us to spread the fragrance of the knowledge of Jesus everywhere. Our lives need to carry the love aroma of Jesus so strongly that people will say, “You smell good” followed by, “What is it?”

Of course they won’t say it quite that way. They might say what one visitor to our home said, “I like coming to visit you. Where you live is so peaceful.” My town more peaceful than others? I don’t think so. Do they perhaps sense the peace of Jesus within the walls of my home? Visitors to women’s fellowship groups have often commented, “This group is so friendly – unlike the other groups of women I’ve been with.” i wait, I long for the moment that they figure out the source of the sweet smelling aroma.

If you could be assured that people would catch the fragrance of Jesus from the way you live your life, wouldn’t you want to do everything you could to help them catch a whiff of that fragrance? Yet, like a spritz of perfume, I don’t want to spray Jesus on my life too heavy. Ask my husband about his reaction in the car after I had tried to use up my nearly empty bottle of Jovan before moving. Poor guy. He tried to be diplomatic, but I was offensive even to myself.

Also, have you ever smelled a man’s scent when he has tried to use cologne to hide the stale smell of cigarette smoke? Sorry, buddy, it doesn’t work. We all know.

Maybe my friend was right. You don’t mix scents.

That’s true in my spiritual life too. Jesus doesn’t mix well with the world. If I want people to catch the whiff of Jesus in my life, it has to be only Jesus. If I want them to notice Him, I need to be careful of the things in my life that might distract those I want to allure to Jesus’ side. I need to put on only Jesus.

Then they’ll be attracted to me and ask, “What makes you smell so good?”

February 19, 2013 by Karen Wingate Leave a Comment

The Ministry of the Love Loaf

Pantano Christian Church, the church I attended as a child and teenager, will soon celebrate its fiftieth anniversary. It has been such a thrill to watch the Lord grow this church from its humble beginnings in a small house tucked into a cul-de-sac of a neighborhood to the large campus that serves thousands of people today.

I was a preschooler at the time, but I remember the “house church.” I remember squirming on red painted oak preschool sized chairs as Mrs. Anderson, Mrs. Hemphill or my mother taught us those Bible stories of creation and Jesus’ love that stick in your brain for a life time. I remember Mrs. Keeling who, when she didn’t know how to pronounce the name “Esau,” told us she would ask one of the elders the correct pronunciation, then she turned the dilemma into a teachable moment by telling us, “Whenever you have a Bible question, you can go to one of the church elders and they will help you. That is their job to help us understand our Bible.”

When I was seven, the congregation moved to a modest building made up of an auditorium with a multi-purpose area in the back that served as a fellowship hall, adult classroom and overflow, a nursery, a kitchen, and two offices that doubled for children’s classrooms. Four years later, we were building a new classroom annex behind the main building. I still remember vividly the day a freak storm sucked off half of the auditorium roof and how all sixty members gathered together to sop up the mess. The crisis brought us together and united us as a family.

The church maintained an attendance of around 100 members for about ten years. It was a troubled time, a time during the sixties and seventies when our angst mirrored the restlessness of a nation caught in the crossfire of culture wars. It was at the height of the Jesus movement and the charismatic movement, a time when people sought to break the bonds of traditionalism and meaningless cardboard religion. Those seeking to find a relevant Christianity were treated with skepticism by older folks who feared we would leave the tenets of Scripture. Our little church stressed to the point of splitting, but somehow stayed intact. After that troubled time, I, as an older teen and college student, watched my beloved congregation sink into apathy.

Then, six months before I left the state for graduate school, we hired a new minister and we suddenly shot forward in explosive growth. Was it our new minister, who had a passion for evangelism? Strong leaders who had both business savvy and spiritual discernment? A congregation who grew tired of the way they were and wanted to be something different?

I have another theory. It was the love loaf that did it.

The Love Loaf Ministry

I don’t even know whose idea it was. It doesn’t matter. We were so excited about the new people Dick Osness was persuading to come to our church. But we didn’t want them to come once then never come again. How could we show them we were glad they came and we cared about them?

Several women decided to start the love loaf ministry. Each Monday, a volunteer would confer with a church secretary to get names and addresses of visitors. Some ladies would make homemade bread. The same ladies or others would immediately take that bread to the visitor’s home. It didn’t matter if they lived around the corner or across town. They still got a loaf of homemade bread delivered to their doorstep. The delivery person didn’t have to stay or say anything; all they had to do was deliver the bread. At some point, I believe a card was attached to the loaf that said who it was from. If the person was not at home, the bread was left on the doorstep.

It was a hit! People would tell us later they had experience a rough day at work, then they came home to find this still warm loaf of bread on their doorstep. Visitors came once out of curiosity. They returned because that loaf of bread communicated, this church cares about you. The fact that people would take time to make homemade yeast bread and drive miles out of their way to deliver it showed that our church valued the visitor.

Pantano Christian Church now serves over 3000 members. It’s been years since they delivered bread. Now they sponsor other projects where members go out of their way to serve the community of Tucson, Arizona.

If we intend to spread the fragrance of Christ, we need to do it in a way that gets noticed. That means doing what people don’t expect us to do or taking extra effort, going that extra mile in a way the rest of the world wouldn’t do.

It can be as simple as making a loaf of homemade bread.

February 12, 2013 by Karen Wingate Leave a Comment

Loving Your Local Ministry Couple

It seems as if we have had a slew of deaths and serious illnesses within our local church family and among our bible college friends. In the last month, we’ve lost two bible college professor friends, Sherwood and Jim, two local pastors: Jay and Les, and Mildred and Irma, two older, godly women in our congregation. I can envision these six precious people sitting at the feet of Jesus, discovering the answers to all those deeper theological questions they have always wondered about, and finally knowing Him as they have always been known.

I will truly miss Mildred. Early on, in our current ministry, this gracious lady and her stroke-afflicted husband welcomed us into their duplex and blessed us more than I believe we blessed them. We immediately felt at ease with them as if we spoke a common dialect. Together we shared the joys and heartaches of ministry. They asked how we were adjusting and about our girls who now lived five hundred miles away. They encouraged us and told us they were praying for us. We were heartened because someone within the congregation knew and understood the life we lived.

Ministers and their wives are called upon to share the most intimate moments of their church members’ lives in sickness, death, and crisis. Then, when they must leave that ministry for whatever reason, they are expected to walk away from the people they hold in their hearts as if it doesn’t matter – and yet it does. Within the tenure of their ministry, they are expected to know the right thing to say, and to pitch in and do anything whether they feel gifted in that area or not.

They willingly listen and sympathize to the concerns of others without mentioning a word of their own heartaches. We know Jesus is the solution to the problems people share with us, yet we must accept that only God can change them, not us, and only when they are ready. Our church is our family when our own family lives so far away, yet, after smiling and wishing our folks well at Christmas and Easter, we go home to an empty house while they join other family for a time of celebration.

Over the years, my husband and I have so appreciated the church members God has brought to us, like Chuck and Mildred, who have entered our world and treated us more like the brother and sister in Christ that we long to be and who have become, to use the apostle Paul’s words, partners and fellow workers. These people, like Aaron and Hur who lifted up Moses’ weary arms, have shown their willingness to step to our side and care about our dreams, our goals, our passion for God’s people and the building of His kingdom in that community, and about our personal lives.

There’s Gloria, who asked my husband for the names of people on the verge of accepting Christ so she could pray for them.

There’s Bev and Duke, who invite us to their home to play dominoes and don’t think twice about our character if we get annoyed at each other for playing off each other’s dominoes!

There’s Marian, who invited us to Easter dinner with the rest of her family. There’s Ed and Margorie who invited us to a family outdoor barbecue so we could meet their extended family. Soon, we became their family. We spent many a Christmas Eve with their daughter-in-law and two granddaughters at the local Chinese restaurant after Christmas Eve services, a memory both families still cherish even after we had to move away.

There’s Jim and Carol, who would always put on the coffee pot whenever we stopped by their house, who wanted to know the details of my forthcoming eye surgery, and who took care of our kids when I entered the hospital. There’s my friend “Karen the elder,” who looked past my role as a minister’s wife and treated me as a fellow history lover as we drove all over the local countryside collecting research for my next historical novel.

There’s Pat and Violet who became Grandma-friends to our girls when they were little, letting the girls sit with them during church and lavishing Christmas presents on them as only a grandma can.

These wonderful people have loved us and let us love them. Our friendship has spanned across ministries. Their regard for us kept us going when ministry got tough. They had the grace to look past our faults and weaknesses to support and encourage us to do the work God has called us to do.

Paul must have felt that way about a group of people in Thessalonica when he said, “We loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our very lives as well, because you had become so dear to us (1 Thess 2:8).” Ministry can be tough at times, but when a congregation becomes so dear, that a minister and his wife have the privilege of sharing both the gospel and their lives with the people, the fragrance of God’s grace is particularly sweet.

How do you plan to bless your ministry couple this week? After all, they need love and care like anyone else.

The Love Loaf Ministry

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