Tuesday, April 19, 2022
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Monday, March 28, 2022
What Happened When I Agreed to be a Mentor?
If anyone had told me that fateful day in 1996 how my entire life would be impacted if I agreed to "mentor" a woman just fourteen years my junior, I wouldn't have believed them.
I met Tiffany Pate when asked by one of her friends to lead a Bible study for a small group of younger women. It's almost funny now to think back on that time because I was still so far from learned in terms of doctrinal knowledge, but apparently being a few years older and willing to study was sufficient in their estimation-- so I took the plunge.
Tiffany asked complex and thoughtful questions. She had a hunger and thirst for knowledge of God, but more than that, for a relationship with Him through Jesus Christ. She wanted to know what she believed and why she believed it and she was never content with superficial or incomplete answers. We had lengthy conversations about subjects that concerned her, and honestly, few things are more motivating in terms of getting you to dig in and study scripture than having someone ask you tough, insightful questions.
When I shared a post recently on social media about the value of mentoring relationships, it occurred to me that there are a couple of reasons people might have for not pursuing one. Maybe there are more, but I would imagine these are primary:
1. I don't feel equipped (I don't feel I have the time and it might require too much of me.)
2. I don't know anyone who would want to have this sort of relationship with me.
Scripture compels older women to teach younger women (Titus 2). and this isn't something we can dismiss or excuse ourselves from. The chapter prescribes a specific mandate for both young and old:
Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, 4 and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, 5 to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled.
So back to my story about Tiffany. The misconception that the mentor is solely the giver and the mentee is the fortunate recipient of the benefits of the relationship is regrettable. The blessing of walking alongside another younger believer as she explores what being a child of God means for her life cannot be measured, but let me share just a little of our story for example.
There were no text messaging options back in the day. We had real voice conversations about motherhood, being a wife, church attendance, modesty, self control, anger, family dynamics, fears, confusion, doubts, and worries. But in every instance, the conversation came back to trust and faith, belief and confident hope that, "He who began a good work in (us) would be faithful to complete it." (Philippians 1:6 paraphrase)
As our relationship grew, Tiffany got to know my children. Interestingly, she had a beloved sister of her own born on the exact date as my daughter, so she became something of a "big sister" to my child as well. How sweet of The Lord to let me mentor one who would later mentor my own daughter.
When my "mama" heart was broken over things that broke the heart of my daughter during her college years and beyond, Tiffany cried with me and prayed harder than just about anyone I knew. Honestly, this "mentee" of mine was a gift from God during many of my own difficult days and I loved having her constant assurance of prayerful understanding, concern, and compassion.
So many times she ministered to me and to Leslie, and one day she called to say that she had met Leslie's husband! You would have to know details that time and space won't allow me to share here, but suffice it to say that she was right. She had a gut feeling that a young man she randomly met would become my son-in-law and six months after she told me about this confident impression, a meeting was arranged and they were engaged shortly thereafter.
Tiffany hosted a baby shower when our first grandchild was due, and one day around that time she called me with frightening news. She had gotten blood work done at a routine check up that indicated something was wrong. Tests and more tests later, she was diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer.
Words fail me to describe the roller coaster season that followed, but we had great hope for her and there were prayers offered in faith that she would beat this evil foe. And when she touched Leslie's pregnant belly as she carried her third child, Tiffany smiled a tearful smile and confidently said, "this one is a boy."
My precious mentee. My friend. My daughter from another mother. My treasured and beloved sister in Christ, Tiffany Pate, did not live to see that baby BOY's arrival. But she has seen her Savior face to face and she has left a legacy of love and faith that will impact me until the day I meet Him, too, and see her again. And that boy, his name is Pate. I have five living grandchildren (and one in heaven) thanks to the prompting Tiffany felt when she met Steven and just "knew that he was Leslie's husband."
Since that time, I have been blessed to have many other "daughters" who have special places in my heart and I treasure them. Each is a precious, unique gift from God. These relationships challenge and grow me in ways I cannot quantify and I am deeply grateful for their presence in my life.
So, why should you consider becoming or seeking out a mentor? Because it will change YOUR life.
~in loving memory of Tiffany April Smith Pate, April 29, 1973-March 31, 2010. ~
Tuesday, November 2, 2021
hello beautiful!
Thursday, September 23, 2021
You Are Gonna Die. So am I.
You are gonna die.
So am I.
One out of one of us do, but for some crazy reason, we expect not to. We go to funerals and mourn the dearly departed, but we rarely sit through these somber services thinking we might be next. And yet, this is the reality: it could be you, me, or the person beside us who is next to be eulogized.
For the past several months, death has been a frequent visitor to my social media newsfeed. Some of these deaths have been people with whom I am acquainted and loved. One of them was even a beloved family member.
The increasing prevalence of these reminders almost mandates a dirge for the opening theme of the daily news because honestly, it seems the more dreadful the day's headlines, the higher the reported viewership. One local broadcaster said recently, "if it bleeds, it leads," referring to the stories that make it to the top of the hour. Still, viewers tune in for daily doses of depressing drama in record numbers.
Why? Why this preoccupation with the macabre and morbid? I can only speculate, but I think it has something to do with an attempt to face our greatest fear which is our own demise. Death, after all, is our last enemy. It says so in the Bible, right?
I am fascinated with not only the current cultural fixation on death, but also on the many demonstrations of fear that seem rooted in sudden awareness that we humans don't possess immortality.
Covid has cured that, though. People suddenly seem to realize that they could die and they are terrified. I mean literally scared to death (almost) of death. Tragically, some are so afraid they have isolated themselves into depression and scrubbed their skin into shredded flesh. No longer able to breathe freely in the company of other humans for fear that someone might infect them or that they might infect someone, they no longer enjoy concerts, crowds, or companionship. Fear has gripped them and the fear is this: they might die, or someone they love might die.
If C. S. Lewis was still writing, I think he might add a chapter to The Screwtape Letters because this has to be one of the devil's all time most skillful attacks. I am surely no Lewis, but I can almost hear the dialog in my head--
You can make him do anything you wish when he is terrified of the virus.
He will stop going to the market and order his groceries online. He will voraciously read every article that heralds the viral deadliness growing more fearful and hopeless as he reads. He will stop meeting his friends for dinner and tell his grandchildren not to visit. He will no longer kiss his wife goodnight for fear that she might sicken him, or vice versa. He will watch the daily news for reports on the numbers of those who've succumbed to disease and then cower in terror thinking he could be next. He will ignore reports of recovery rates and become fixated only on the worst case outcomes. He will scold and correct all who do not share his own understanding of the dire straits of society. He will verbally attack former friends and colleagues who do not believe or behave exactly as he does. In his sleep, he will dream of disease. In his waking hours, he will speak of disease. And as he so predictably slips into a state of fear induced mania and paranoia, he will have lost all ability to reason or to be reasoned with, and best of all, he won't fear God, only his own untimely death.
He will be exactly where you want him to be then, nephew. Incapable of making wise or discerning judgments and perfectly suited for a long life of hell on earth. Just the preparation that is needed for his future eternal state. This, my dear boy, is brilliant!
Your affectionate uncle,
Screwtape
When young children witness a grown woman in a state of absolute panic-induced hysteria on an elevator because she is breathing the same air as they are, you know we are living in a fear filled world.
When a stranger verbally assaults someone who is not wearing a mask in a very large public place where no mask mandate exists and where it is more than possible to maintain great social distance, you know we are living in a fear filled world.
When someone expects you to do exactly what they think is right regardless of their lack of knowledge of your situation, health, or beliefs and then berates you for not complying or agreeing or capitulating, you know we are living in a fear filled world.
The saddest thing about all of this is not that the virus itself exists, but that fear of the virus has turned us into people who have lost the ability (or willingness) to behave rationally, maturely, and properly in far too many instances.
So, what is the solution? There's only one. It is found in the verse I mentioned earlier and actually in a broader sense it is found in the truth of the whole of scripture. 1 Corinthians 15:26 tells us that "the last enemy to be destroyed is death." And there is one who destroyed its sting and puts to rest all the fears that cripple and blind and stifle and grip. Jesus Christ conquered death-- and for those who have surrendered their earthly, mortal life to His Lordship, we can face whatever comes tomorrow, be it corona virus, heart disease, cancer, or tragedy, without the fear that suffocates and renders hopeless those who do not have The LORD's "peace that passes understanding."
As I write, I am praying for the woman on the elevator, the man in the store, and the person who so hostilely responds on social media (and all those who are in the clutches of the devil's big scary scheme) to be delivered from the terror of death by the mercy of Christ. The Scripture says:
When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: "Death is swallowed up in victory." "O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our LORD Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brothers be steadfast, immovable..." I Corinthians 15: 54-58
We will die. You will. I will. But by God's amazing grace, may we NOT die while we are still alive. Fear does that to a person-- it creates living dead people. In Christ, we are free to live fearlessly-- even the fear of death.
soli Deo gloria~
Sandy