Elyon's Way

Rescue

2010-01-23T18:05:00.000-06:00

Some very dear friends of mine have been in the process of adopting a sweet little boy who has been in an orphanage in Haiti since he was a baby. They met this little guy as they were in the process of adopting a sibling group from the same orphanage. As news of the earthquake came we rejoiced with them when they heard that all of the children in that orphanage were safe. In the days that followed, information started coming that it was very likely that adoptions that had been in progress would be expedited in order to get those children "home" in order to start making room for all the thousands of new orphans.

One night last week we heard that some of these children might be flown into Florida on military transport planes to Florida where the parents would then meet up with the children and paper work would be done in the airports. One mother was overwhelmed at that thought of her little guy having to experience his first air travel with possibly dozens of other children and only few adults to help comfort them. Then to spend the time in the airport while customs and immigration had to do what they had to do again in the company of other frightened children and few adults to offer consolation in the midst of such traumatic times. Who knew how many hours the child would have to wait. The drama and uncertainty of such an event was almost more than she could stand.

A wise woman offered a different perspective. First of all, the children who had been living in a Hatian orphanage had already in their short lives undergone far more trauma that most of us have to endure in a lifetime. And she viewed it as a the humanitarian rescue mission that it was. As this story was being recounted to me, I asked "And the child knows he's going to his Papa, right?"

And my eyes filled with tears.

Not just for Sami and his rescue to a safe and loving home. But for all of us. We have times in our lives that are truly filled with trauma and drama. The difficulties are real. The sacrifices extreme. And yet, we can find our comfort knowing that our Papa - our Abba Father - has our best interest in mind. He has come to rescue us, and we are on the journey home. To an everlasting safe and loving home.

Subtitle

2010-01-08T08:00:00.003-06:00

...what I learned while editing my life...

That is the subtitle of Donald Miller's book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Do we ever do that? Edit our lives? That would require slowing down...stopping even. It's hard to edit something that is moving full speed ahead. And well, editing itself takes time. Have you ever seen how many standard proofreading marks there are? Then there are the copy editing marks. Whew. Sounds like work.

That's what Don has the rare opportunity to do. That is the unexpected catalyst for his book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. A couple of guys tell Don that they would like to make a movie based on Blue Like Jazz. Cool, says Donald Miller. A movie about the successful book that was both authored and inspired by DM himself. Having a bit of writers block and being a tad short on cash flow - why not? Discussions begin to open up about story. Do audiences want to watch (ie - as in go to a movie) the same kinds of stories that they enjoy reading about? Does this or that kind of story draw in the audience? Does saying the story isn't so great, mean that the man himself isn't so great? Ego inflated moving quickly to ego deflated.

I'm pretty sure that my self-esteem isn't up to having someone else edit my story. "Honey, let's leave this out, no one really wants to read about that." Some self-editing? Perhaps. Yep, I can think of few things, I'd like to end up on the cutting room floor. Surely I'm not the only one who'd like a "Take 2!" (or 10 or 20) for some moments of life. (I realize I am mixing the book and movie metaphors, but they aren't untangling in my mind, so I'm just moving forward.)

And as I type this tonight, I'm slowing down a bit. Stopping, if only for a moment, to take a look and see what in my story is worth looking at. Value in a story doesn't automatically equal a Disney-Princess-sort-of-story. Movie makers know that to bring the audience in the story has to be complex - they know we prefer a story that we can't figure out right away. Good story ≠ easy story. That short formula gives me some more hope. As of recent, my story hasn't been easy. So my story might not be as boring as a first glance might have seemed.

Kudos

2010-01-03T19:05:00.000-06:00

Two-thumbs up! Way to go! Excellent! Well done! Terrific! Doesn't get any better than this!

Can we ever hear enough praise? I remember hearing a statistic that it takes at least 10 episodes of high-praise to over come a single harsh criticism. And for some of us folks who've dealt with times of low self-esteem, it is more likely to take 10 to the 10th sincere accolades to help us recover from one rough critique.

In the movie I mentioned at the start of this blogquest (Alex & Emma), Emma reads the last page of a book to decide if she is willing to invest her time in reading the entire book. While I disagree with her strategy, I do get her point. I, on the other hand, skip to the beginning. Introductions, prologues, acknowledgments, copyright notices, blah, blah, blah. Those weren't really written first, so why should I read them first? (It's a rhetorical question - no need to try to persuade me. Alex couldn't persuade Emma and he was a "brilliant novelist".) I just want to start the book. Start with what the author really chose to start with. The story.

BUT. In returning to Donald Miller's "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years" I read the kudos. In my copy there are three and half pages of words of praise. Words from some pretty impressive people. My favorite is by Rob Bell (author of Velvet Elvis and Jesus Wants to Save Christians). He says:

If someone tells you they've read this book and they "enjoyed it" or they "liked it" or they think it's a "good book" then maybe they didn't read it - it's well written and funny and interesting and all that, but it's also disturbing. Really, really disturbing. Don is into provocative territory here, wrestling with The Story and the role each our stories play in it...this is very convicting, powerful, unsettling writing. I felt like this book read me more than I read it.

Whew! In the couple of months that passed since I read this book the first time, I don't think I forgot the point. Or missed it entirely. In fact, other notes of praise for this book and Donald Miller use some of the phrases I used ...and they couldn't have been hiding in the recesses of my memory since I skip to the beginning!

Of course, it's possible to come up with 3.5 pages of praise that are inarticulate, inaccurate or just a bunch of bunk. Don did some hard work in this book. It's more like a journal than a novel or self-help book. It feels real. It makes me want to do what he did. Step up. Take chances. Make changes. Be different. Improve my story.

Hear me clearly please, I'm not saying I hate my story as it is. It's me. It's who I am. It's the journey I've been on. However, I don't think I've ever given enough credit to the power God has given me to be a formative force in my own story. Yes, yes, I make choices every day. Those choices can impact myself, my family and others in my circle. But some of what Don is saying in his book is that we are designed to transform. The ways we do that and the routes we take are going to make us "be different at the end" (see chapter 12). We weren't created to arrive at adulthood and then tread water until we die. We are in a constant state of flux. This is why this book presents such a challenge to me personally. I've never been a big fan of changing. (See entry from last January) But do I really just want the status quo? To never change? How boring is that!? Ah-ha. A conflict. The girl who doesn't like change, doesn't want to stay the same. Ay, there's the rub.

Story

2010-01-02T19:24:00.045-06:00

Well, I did it. Yesterday, I said I'd go take a second look at a book I read recently. The book is A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller. Donald Miller is the author of the well-known book "Blue Like Jazz" (which I have NOT read yet, by the way).

The book came across my desk at work - lots of books come across my desk at work. One weekend when the kids were away and my folks were away, I took it home with me to see if I wanted to read it. I did. And I did.

It was an easy read inasmuch as I didn't have to go look up words in the dictionary to know what it was talking about. I didn't have to have a master's degree in theology or psychology or any other -ology to follow along. I've never heard Donald Miller's voice, but as I was reading I felt like I was sitting in a coffee shop with or across the living room from a guy who was telling me about some stuff he was really interested in. In addition, it was easy to read because it was entertaining. There is funny stuff. And great adventures. Interesting characters. Unusual settings. (There was also a draw in that I already knew a tiny bit of the information from a direct source - I'll have to check with my attorney before I'll know if I can write about that or not.)

However, in my opinion that's where easy stopped. At one point I even told someone that I was almost "afraid" to read any further because I didn't want to have to get to the challenge I was sure was coming. I didn't want to have to read it, agree with it, and then fail miserably by not meeting it. Donald Miller was gentle though. (Thanks, Don - surely your friends call you "Don") While he proposed the challenges, they were posed directly to himself, not as a call to action for anyone and everyone who should happen to read his book. I'm thinking that he'd like others to move in the directions he chose to move, but it wasn't presented that way to the reader.

I'm getting ahead of myself though. I was so glad that I read the book. I tried to find some others who had read it so that I could talk about it with them. At that point, I didn't know anyone personally who had read it. Since I wanted to share my thoughts with people who already knew me, the online option didn't meet my needs. So, I sort of put it down. On the second shelf of my bedside table. Not completely out of sight. Then for Christmas I gave it to some of those folks I'd wanted to talk about it with a few months earlier. And I've heard they are reading it. I look forward to the discussions we might have regarding its content.

And...I feel a little "afraid" again. I told them it was a great book. I've mentioned that it presents challenges I'm drawn to. But what if they think it's a call to action that I'm not ready to act on? Crap. Well, now I've done it. Set myself up to fail miserably and in front of others to boot. Or perhaps I was subconsciously looking for some accountability? Or "authentic community" in the story of my life?

We'll see. I've dusted off the cover and remembered why I wanted to share it with others. If we don't come to the same conclusions, that's ok. And hey, if nothing else, I have two blog posts in a row. Something I haven't done since I was writing about the story of a different chapter of my life. A chapter that tonight, at least, feels a bit like a million miles and a thousand years ago.

Writing

2010-01-01T21:58:00.007-06:00

I watched a movie tonight about a writer. It was a comedy - a romantic comedy at that - and it had some great insights into the writing process. He explained to a reluctant audience of one that he didn't know how the story was going to end because the characters take him to the places they will go. That makes perfect sense to me. (Alex & Emma)

I read a book not long ago about "story". Not a particular story necessarily, but story in general. The story of an individual. The story of a people. The story of a God. The challenge in that book, and I want to read it again...perhaps I'll pick it up again after clicking "publish post" :)...anyway the challenge to me was that good stories have certain criterion. Whether it be a book or a movie or a play or whatever. A good story will have specific elements that a not-so-good story doesn't have. Upon doing some extensive study on story, the author decides that if he applies these elements, these criterion to his own story, the unfolding story of his life, that he could actually improve his story. And what do you know - it did! This is not the same thing as "choosing your destiny" kind of thing. Or deciding what you want in life and "making" it happen. But rather choosing risk, for example, instead of safety. The author chose to try to "get the girl." The relationship didn't turn into a happily ever after, but he became a better person because of it. He learned more about himself. He had a good dating relationship that lasted longer than his standard average. He improved his story.

So as I sit here in the glow of the computer monitor on a day people eat black-eyed peas for luck and decide to lose weight or quit smoking or other lofty goals which will be left by the way-side in a matter of weeks or even days, I think I will resolve to improve my story.

And maybe even write about it.

Happy New Year.

Give Thanks

2009-12-09T18:38:00.004-06:00

I love this picture. I'm not sure why. Originally a 1918 photograph by Eric Enstrom, then more recently reproduced in oils by his daughter, it must have hung on a wall in the home of one of my grandparents. While the table setting and walls around him are so meager (and the book I always asumed was a Bible looks so big and daunting), this man always seemed so peaceful to me. He's old. Alone. Perhaps poor. Yet peaceful. It's title is simply "Grace".

I wonder if perhaps I ought to offer more graces and say few prayers. To "say a prayer" tends to conjure long lists of requests the untold numbers who do indeed need the attention of spritual being. Yet "saying grace" has in my mind anyway the spirit of offering rather than asking.

This year at the Thanksgiving meal I was asked to offer the blessing before the meal. (Maybe it was because last year I missed both the blessing and the meal??....another entry - another day?) Nonetheless at the first ask I was offered the oppotunity to share a little bit of what I'm thankful for in the midst of times that are not the easiest. As I sought some insight from those whose words of thanks are recorded in the Bible, I came to a profound understanding. I remembered that the Biblical references are often in the imperative mood (I just love gramatical verbiage!) We are told over and over to "Give thanks!" Over and over again as I read the references, I saw that the command to give thanks was not based "even a pinch," as my daughter says, on the circumstances or situations in which those instructed to give thanks found themselves. Repeatedly we along with our historic Israelite brothers and sisters were told to give thanks
to the LORD because "His love endures forever." Now there's a reason to be thankful. That gets me out of my own pity party. And even pity parties I'd like to throw for others who are in dire straights. The stuff that is difficult in my life and the lives of people I know and love is equivelant to the blink of an eye in comparison to a forever-enduring love.

Nope, it doesn't make my crap less "crappier" - but it does make me shift my focus. There's a reason that many 12-step and other types of recovery programs have folks keep a gratitude journal. Every day, entering 5 things for which they are thankful. Some people say that the first few days it is often really difficult to come up with 5 things. Over time, it gets increasingly easier. Being thankful is a mindset. A choice. Sure, I can be thankful when blessings pour in my life. That's easy. It's when I'm feeling like I'm living (barely) in a dark hole and yet I choose to "Give thanks to the LORD because His love endures forever."

Fall

2009-11-17T17:01:00.005-06:00

In all of his 4 years of school experience, my Brody-Man has never been a huge fan of going to school. In his second year of pre-school, it took about 3 months for him to go without telling me "I'm NOT going to school!". That year, on one of those days in early fall when you get a surprise fall-feeling day and my car was not working. We walked Iris to the bus stop and then I sprung the news on him that he didn't have to go to school that day. Sure, I could have found a him a ride. One of the teachers from the school even lived in our neighborhood. But hey, I was going to be home, why not let the little dude have a day off.

He was THRILLED. With the weight of going to school lifted from his heart and shoulders, he skipped all the way home from the bus stop. He noticed the change in the weather and began to plan out his day. He said, first he was going to catch a leaf in the front yard..."since it was fall and that's when the leaves fall, ya know", then he'd come inside and I would build a fire in the fireplace so he could drink hot chocolate by the fire on this crisp fall day. It was early fall, and in Texas to boot. Leaves were not falling off the trees (except for the ones that had died in the hot summer). In my protective mothering way I reminded Brody that fall doesn't just happen overnight. That it is a season. That a leaf may or may not fall from the tree for him to catch. Brody has always been a kid who gets pretty upset when things don't go the way he thinks they should, and I was just trying to help prepare him for the likelihood that he would NOT have the opportunity to catch leaves. He looked at me and said, "Well, then I'll just pray to God that I can catch a leaf." Still in the protective mode (maybe more to protect me having to deal with him when he got so frustrated), I reminded him that sometimes God takes time to answer our prayers, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. He just looked at me and grabbed his jacket and ran outside the front door and stood between the two scrawny trees on our little front yard. He was running around enjoying not being at school. Enjoying the cool day. Suddenly he came bursting in - "See, Mom!" he said, "See! I catched a leaf. I prayed to God and He let me catched a leaf! Can I have my hot chocolate now?"

"See, Mom!" What a reminder. The faith of a child.

At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?"
He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me. (Matthew 18: 1-5)

My son taught me a great lesson that day. He believed. He acted upon that belief. He was joyous about his answered prayer. He immediately shared his joy with someone else. He didn't give me a hard time for doubting. He didn't judge my unbelief. I'm not saying that every prayer is answered like that. But maybe Iought to be more expectant in my prayers. More faith-full.

Brody's prayer wasn't the wish-list, can-I-please-have, type of prayer. He was wanting to enjoy the full experience of one of God's created days. That year, his pre-school teacher Mrs. Pete, started every morning with the children saying their own version of Psalm 118:24 and it ended with something like "and we'll be happy today because it is a God-made day!" Brody asked God to help him enjoy His creation that morning and the Great God Almighty was thrilled to send a leaf off of that tree for Brody to catch. Perhaps my prayers ought to focus more on God and His plans and His creation, than me and my plans.

We took his leaf into the kitchen and made two cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows. I want to always remember that day.

Blessings

2009-10-21T22:30:00.004-05:00

On the radio tonight (on the Delilah show) a man was telling an inspiring story of a Special Olympian that he got to know when he volunteered one year. He ended with the admonition to not just COUNT your blessings, but to DO something with them. USE them to their fullest potential. Of course just hearing the "Count Your Blessings" phrase brought to mind the hymn by Oatman and Excell. "Count your blessings name them one by one...and it will surprise you what the Lord hath done." I can remember singing that song as a little girl in the church I grew up in. I think it is one of those songs with good intentions, but maybe not the greatest theology. If I really know God like He wants me to, are His blessings in my life going to be that "surprising"? The song goes on to talk about focusing on the blessings with times are difficult. I'm a glass-half-full gal. I tend to always point out the silver lining of the dark, dreary clouds. (I think that sometimes it even annoys folks.) My point being, I'm pretty good at the counting of the blessings. But I don't think that God gives me blessings just to tally up. I'm thinking He'd like me to DO something with them to bless others and give Him honor and glory. He calls us to love Him and love each other and He blesses us in all sorts of ways so that we can get creative in how we do just that. So go ahead, count your blessings, make your thankful list and then GO. Go show the love of Jesus to others with the blessings He's given you! Dive Deep into His love!

Wating

2009-03-10T23:36:00.005-05:00

In a Bible study once we used a resource called "Secrets of the Secret Place" by Bob Sorge. (Really a great source of practical tips for improving upon our relationship with God, by improving upon the ways in which we spend time with Him.) Anyway, one chapter was called "The Secret of Waiting." I have found it relevant in nearly every "official" group study I've done since then. We aren't used to waiting anymore. Overnight deliveries. Fast food. Express lanes. It's all quick and fast and done before you know it. And if immediately isn't quite fast enough, bosses want it ten minutes ago, yesterday, or last week.

Well, I've been waiting this week. I guess it's only Tuesday, but it seems like "next Tuesday" already. I went out of town last week to help put on a conference in beautiful Lubbock, Texas (well, if you've been to Lubbock, then you know I'm talking about the hearts of the people here.) On Saturday, I started feeling a little bit "off." No real symptoms I could name other than a hard, but tender knot behind my left ear. Then Sunday morning, my head was hurting and all around my ears - not like an ear infection - but behind and in front of them. And my scalp sort felt like it was sunburned. I left my co-worker to do all of the packing up and spent the day sleeping in my hotel room. (Sorry, Eric!) By the evening, I was certain that I had been dealing with a fever and felt miserable. We tried to find an urgent care clinic, but at 7:00 p.m. on Sunday it looked like an ER was the best bet. My fever registered at 104.5. The triage nurse got me to a room in the ER right away. It was finally determined that I had some sort of skin infection that usually shows up on arms or legs, but mine was on my head and face. I had a bright red "band" across my forehead that made it look like I had been wearing a hat that was too tight. (Of course, that was the obvious visible symptom and the one that caused me the least amount of distress.) After playing the inevitable waiting game in the ER I was admitted to a room. The infection and fever left me so exhausted that I'm pretty sure my friends to brought me to the hospital have some amusing stories to tell. After I was in my room and my friends had left, I woke up needing to use the bathroom. I was so physically exhausted that I passed out on the floor. And then when I came around, I was so mentally exhausted that I didn't even think to pull that cord in the bathroom to call for help!!

The doctors have chosen to treat me with a strong antibiotic that is only available in IV drip form. So I'm waiting to get better. The docs tell me that it is not uncommon for an infection of this type that shows up on the head to require a 5-6 day hospital stay. There is no surgery involved. No invasive procedures. Just waiting. Waiting for the antibiotic to be active in my blood steam. Waiting for the levels to be high enough to safely switch me to an oral medication. Waiting for the redness to subside and for the swelling to go down. (This morning I looked like I had a face and a half because of how swollen my glands were after working so hard at fighting this thing!) But in the days of instant messages and real time status reports, 48 hours has seemed like days on end. Landing in the hospital away from home increases the "feeling" of waiting exponentially. I want to be home with my children and family. But I need to be better first. Waiting for the medication to attack the infection and kill it and get it out of my system, takes time. It won't be rushed. Increasing the medication to make it "work faster" would only be detrimental to my health - not beneficial.

This afternoon and evening, I'm feeling much better. But I know that if I were to get up and act as if I haven't been extremely ill for 2 and half days, I would quickly exhaust any surplus energy I might have. And I'm reminded that the word "wait" has expectation built in. Wishes are for stars and birthday candles. But waiting has hope attached. Hope that what I'm waiting for will actually come to pass. Hope that I will indeed be better and be home soon. Hope that my body will react appropriately to the medication that is so strong it burns in my vein as it is being pumped in.

David tells us in Psalm 27 to "Wait for the Lord, be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." Then Isaiah tells us what happens to those who wait for the Lord that they "will renew their strength." So maybe when my spirit is exhausted to the point of fainting, more works or more study or more prayer even - those just aren't the things that will give me the strength. The strength comes in the waiting. And in whom I choose to wait. In that hopeful expectation of what will come. I don't know how He will chose to reveal that strength. But I want to remember to be watchful and not assume that I'm the one who has the best plan laid out. In the hospital, my choice would have been a pill to swallow that would have me back on my feet in 24 hours. Not the 6-8 dose IV drip that can only be administered once every 12 hours over a 120 minute period.

It's just another reminder to me from Him that I am in a season of waiting. And that's ok. I don't have to have all the answers today. Or tomorrow for that matter. I will be active in my pursuit of His will, but will also remember to wait in His presence. To listen to what He has for me for today.

(Special thanks to my new-found Lubbock friends who have taken the time to hang out with me for some of this waiting time this week!)

Butterflies

2009-01-05T00:02:00.003-06:00

Just before I turned 10 years old, my family moved from Michigan to Tennessee. I was supposed to get to have a sleep-over birthday party for my 10th birthday party. It's kind of hard to do that when you don't know anyone because you moved far away. Then I started school in the fall and it was awful. It was hard. The kids made fun of they way I talked. I just wanted to "go home." Back to what I knew. Back to people who knew me. I started having bad stomach aches and head aches, which were finally realized to be stress/anxiety related. Change was not my thing, you see. And that move was a huge change to my 10-year-old self. My wise parents took me to see a counselor for help coping with the changes.

A tool that he equipped me with was to spend 2o minutes twice a day "looking for butterflies." I would sit in a chair, close my eyes and imagine I was looking at a meadow as far as I could see with flowers (my choice was daisies) in it. Then in the forefront I would imagine butterflies. And then I'd "watch" the butterflies fluttering by, back and forth in my mind. It is a tool I still use to this day, most often at night when I can't sleep especially because too many thoughts start crowding my mind.

Change is still not my thing. I'm not the kind of gal who wants new furniture or new paint every year. I like things steady. And so here I am, in the midst of huge life changes and I find myself looking for butterflies more frequently. How interesting, though, that the object that helps bring calm to my mind is an object that embodies change. The butterfly who must go through a period of waiting...before it can become what it was intended to be.

In a book I'm reading (When the Heart Waits by Sue Monk Kidd) the author reminded me that the butterfly is often used as a symbol for the soul or psyche. So again, when my soul is in most need of respite the exercise of watching butterflies often brings peace. And it is in the stillness and the "waiting" that I am blessed with closer connection with God. And I feel Him reminding me that while I wait (for now) He is still active in my life. I am loved and not forgotten. And the unchanging God is of the universe is continuing to change me into who I am intended to be.

Puzzling

2008-12-28T21:47:00.005-06:00

Santa brought a puzzle to our house for Christmas. Only 500 pieces. A painting of birds on a snowy birdhouse. Nice colors. Fun for the family. (Except Brody, who can't imagine why anyone would want to sit around so long and do just "boring stuff.") We are of the straight edge school. You know, separate the edge pieces from the middle pieces and build the frame. Then work on the rest. I like to find groups of colors that I think will go together and work them outside the frame. And every time that I've got my little pile of sorted pieces, I keep searching for more like-pieces. It just seems that the little pile I have surely cannot be enough to make the picture I want to make. And so I spend time looking for the additional pieces that I'll "need" to complete the picture. But many puzzles later, I've realized that I (almost) always have all the pieces required right in front of me. Looking for more pieces in the bottom of the box is a waste of time. It would be a much better use of time to put together the pieces I do have. But I'm just "sure" that I need something else to complete the picture.

Don't we do that in life? We have what we need right in front of us. And yet we search for what we think we need to complete the picture, rather than using what is at the ready to begin piecing together the images of our life. Sure, sometimes a piece can be elusive. (Iris saved the day with this particular puzzle so that it didn't end up being the 499 piece almost completed puzzle.) But you can't really know for sure if something is missing until you put together what you already have. That's kind of what I'm doing now. Putting together the pieces I have - even feeling certain that at least one piece is missing - to see what picture comes together. God knows what I need. And to keep searching for possible missing pieces doesn't get life living. I need to trust His promises that He will supply my needs. He does and He will.

And my God will meet all your needs according
to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.
~Philippians 4:19 (NIV)

Light

2008-12-14T23:30:00.007-06:00

Tonight was the Christmas program at church. The children all nicely dressed sat remarkably still until their turn to get on stage. They sang their song(s) and appropriately hammed it up. (What is it about a stage, anyway?!) Then the high school praise band took their place on stage and did a few songs. When they started, they turned on three light machines. You know those computer programmed light machines that move in sync with one another and throw moving images around at the ceiling, walls, floors, or faces of anyone who is in the way. Pretty cool equipment for a high school church band!

But, lucky me. I was sitting directly behind the two rows of 4-year-olds and Kindergartners. Their initial response to the lighting was audible! Then they were on their feet with their backs to the stage. The live band members, live singers and giant images on huge video screens were NOTHING compared to the dancing lights. For three full songs, these kids were mesmerized. They were drawn into the light. To them, it was alive. It moved. It changed. It shone. In fact, one of the lead singers invited the children to join the band on stage. The kids didn't care. What was a stage to this wonderful, beautiful living light?!

Suddenly several thoughts came crashing into my head.
       "Unless you are as little children..."
          "Let there be LIGHT!"
     "...Light of the world..."
      "In him was life, and that life was the light of men.
        The light shines in the darkness..."

And I smiled. The children showed me. They showed me the immense joy of simply enjoying being in the presence of the Light. The Light of the world that shines in the darkness, that the darkness does not understand. I don't have to understand the Light to bask in Its glory. To be warmed by its heat. To see what It illuminates. The other stuff that stands in the darkness is insignificant when I focus on the Light.

Of course, the darkness is still there. We live in a fallen world. But His Light Shines. Let the Light of His Love wrap around you and shield you from the darkness. Be comforted by Its warmth. Be comforted by Its presence.

Fearless

2008-08-28T22:53:00.007-05:00

"Vivir con miedo es como vivir a medias."

A life lived in fear is like a life half lived.

It's a line from one of my favorite movies "Strictly Ballroom" (Add it to your Netflix list for fun! No, it's not all in Spanish.) And it is current theme that keeps popping up in random convergences in my life this week.

A devotional reading this week included the following: "Seek My Face, and I will share My mind with you, opening your eyes to see things from My perspective. Do not let your heart be troubled, and do not be afraid. The Peace I give is sufficient for you." (from "Jesus Calling" - p249 by Sarah Young).

The lines of a new song by Randy Gill read:
      We are not afraid. We are not afraid.
      We will be fearless for You, fearless for You.
      We will be faithful in all that we do.
      If we step out on the waves,
      or walk through the flames;
      Whatever You ask us to do,
      we will be fearless for You.
     We are not afraid.

It is an admonition given often "Fear not!"

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." 1 John 4:18 (Uh-oh, now two themes intertwine...both fear AND love!)

Can we really be expected to live without fear? Romans 8:15 says "For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship." Ok, so I guess we CAN be expected to live fearlessly. But what in the world does that look like? It's not careless. It's not thoughtless. Perhaps it is the act of love outweighing the emotion of fear. Doing what we most want to do (to His glory) but that the thought of doing leaves us feeling the most fearful.

I have one small window of time of my life when I felt fearless. Not some "devil-may-care" attitude, mind you. But truly unafraid even in the midst of huge uncertainty. But things were completely out of my hands - maybe it's easier to trust when there aren't really any options or choices to make. Maybe that's the lesson. Those things that make fear rise up within me - let go. Let them out of my hands. Give them up to the Father. To the ONLY One who can offer true Peace even in the midst of turmoil...that Peace that passes ALL understanding. Lay them at the foot of the cross. And have faith in His faithfulness. Because whatever He asks us to do is for HIS Glory and is not a plan to harm us, but to give us Hope, so today I choose to live fearless for Him.

Love is Pain?

2008-06-15T09:52:00.004-05:00

I was going to kill a guy for snoring too loudly, but decided not to. I just beat and tortured him instead.

Human beings aren't capable of that kind of love, sadly. True goodness merely reminds us of how human we are, how incapable. Love is pain. June 6, 2008 9:37 PM

This comment was left anonymously on the previous post entitled "Love." I confess that firstly I felt angry. How dare this person leave such a message without letting me know who they were!? Well, I enabled anonymous comments so that people wouldn't have to have an account to leave a comment. Then I felt sad that they missed the point. As days passed, I realized that they totally got it! Of course we are incapable of complete God-like love. I suppose a few humans have come closer than most. Only Jesus was both God and man and thus able to give us a picture of the love God has in mind. And the commenter is 100% correct. "Love is pain." Jesus loved us to the pain of death. And in His death we are offered the gift of salvation and eternal life with Him the greatest Lover of all time.

Paul teaches us that we are not to use grace as an excuse for sinning. (see Romans 6) I think that the leap to not use incapableness as an excuse for not loving is not so far a jump. As long as I live and breathe on this earth, there will be sin in my life. However, I can choose to NOT pursue it. NOT to blatantly choose it. Pray for wisdom and discernment in my day to day activities to live as God has planned. I can also choose to love. To pursue love. To blatantly choose love. To pray for wisdom and discernment to love as God has planned. As long as I live and breathe on this earth, I will fall short of loving like God loves.

As a woman who is striving to grow closer to Him, a result is that I want to love more and more like Him. I know that I can't and won't be filled up with reciprocal human love. Do I cherish the human love I receive? You bet! Can I count on it satiating my God-created need for love? No way! ONLY God can do that. And it is something that I have to consciously work at daily. There are deep, deep caverns longing to be filled. Ice cream won't do it. Brody's hand won't do it. Iris' hugs won't. Nor a purring cat or loving husband. Trying to let other things fill those cavernous longings will only lead to further disappointment and frustrations. Letting God fill them, now that brings desire. Desire to be in His Presence more and more. Desire to bless Him by loving others the best I can.

To sum up, yes, love is (can be) pain. Yes, we are incapable of complete G0d-love. But do it anyway! Dive deep into the life-love of the Father. And in return, as a response, Love Large!

Love

2008-06-04T00:12:00.004-05:00

Ok, you might have to bear with me on this one. The thoughts are not nearly well sussed out enough in my brain, but suddenly I felt the urge to get them out lest they fly away all together.

I've been reading a lot over the past few weeks. All sorts of things. I love reading - always have. But I will often go through self-induced reading droughts because a decent book is like a bag of cookies for me. Once I start, there's no stopping until I'm finished. (Ok, we address the eating issue another time - lol) A recurring theme has been love. Romantic love. Puppy love. Parent's love. Children's love. Patriotic love of country. Learning to love yourself. God's love. All kinds.

What I'm working through right now is (at least one of) the way(s) God's love is supposed to affect us as His people. We love others because He loves us. Period. End of discussion. Not because they deserve love. Not because they want to be loved. Not because they are easy to love. Not because of a joy we receive by loving them. But simply and purely because He loves us. (Do we deserve it? Do we always want it? Are we easy to love? Yep - rhetorical questions all) Some people even act as if they don't want that kind of love. Might even run from it. Turn their backs on it. Be un-lovely to it. Guess what?? They don't get to choose!! God's love pursues. It contends against the things we think we love. Why do we get things so mixed up?!

Yes, as willing recipients of God's/Christ's/Holy Spirit's Love we have many responsibilities. Perhaps we need to look at this one as one of the top priorities. Wouldn't it, couldn't it make things simpler for us. Quit worrying about what some might think. Who cares!!! I'm ok with being that off-the-wall-Jesus-girl-who-loves-without-caution. (Don't anyone get their undies in a bundle, I'm talking about God's love, not anything else...) We spend a lot of time loving people like us. What about the people not like us. What if we spend time and energy loving people that don't accept it? Or push it away? Does that give us an excuse to stop? Um, NO! God's pitcher of love doesn't run out. So we keep getting filled up with His Love-Water so we can keep pouring it on to others. We might feel empty in our humanness, so we have to remember that we get filled up by Him, not the folks around us. And we keep pouring it out. Sooner or later, they're bound to get at least a little wet!! And, hey, they might start to find that kind of God-love refreshing.

What about those who don't "get" God's love? What about those who have turned their backs on it because they think they aren't worthy? Newsflash!! Not a one of us is worthy. Could that be why so many don't drink in fully the love Christ offers? Shame. Ugh!! Another lie the enemy spins so easily. Of course, we don't deserve it. That's why He offers it! His pursuit of us with it via circumstances, His people, and all the other mysterious ways He battles for us can soften us. When we begin to recognize the pursuit, it can spur us on to desire more. But the true power comes in accepting it. That's when lives change. That's when we begin to reflect His love. That's when His love gets to shine! When we accept it for the amazing, beautiful and glorious gift that it is, it can't help but change us. Good grief, suddenly I've got the "I'd like to buy the world a Coke" commercial from the 70s in my head. I guess there's something to that...we can be so quick to share joy and love in something as "worldly" as a refreshing carbonated beverage, but we don't shout it from the rooftops that God loves us? And God loves them? And because God loves us, we love them.

Ok, I'm getting weird (the late hour may have something to do with it). Do something today that shows someone else God's love. Don't let it just be a "random act of kindness." Make it be an intentional act of God-ness. And leave a comment about what you did. (If you received this message in an email, you can click here to get the the actual blog and post something in the comment section.) If you can't think of something, pray that God will show you what to do and when and to whom. This is exciting! I'm praying for you right now as I type that some extra acts of God-ness will be out and about in the world today! Love large!!

Faithful Companion - part 2

2008-06-02T12:55:00.006-05:00

The rest of the story...

The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you;

he will never leave you nor forsake you.

Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. ~Deuteronomy 31:8

Now THAT's faithful! Not only does He promise constancy. He promises to stay with us, humans. Mortals. We who mess up, who sin, who don't live up to the great plans He has for us. And what's more, He chooses to call us friend. Companion. (See John 15: 14) His Holy Spirit dwelling within us - way better than a dog on my chest! Sorry, Phoebs.

Here more words seem to just get in the way of the message. Live today with a consciousness of God as your friend.

Faithful Companion

2008-05-31T01:24:00.003-05:00

I miss my dog.

Phoebe would have been 13 this past Easter weekend. When I got her, I was told she was born on Easter...I know that Easter can vary weeks in the calendar, but it's the only way I ever seemed to remember it. Funny. I was sitting in the hospital with Chris sleeping away on Easter this year. She came to live with me on a Thursday. During my single days with the show "Friends" was ever so popular, my group of friends would meet at one apartment or another for an evening of NBC's Must See TV. They helped me name her - so Phoebe it was. I had NO idea how to train a puppy! She chewed EVERYTHING. Shoes. Books. Papers. My students' homework. "The dog ate your homework!! Ugh. I remember realizing that though I thought at that time I was at least semi-prepared for motherhood, (even with no spouse on the horizon) that I was sorely mistaken! From that point on, I preached "Puppy!" to every newly wed couple as they started planning for babies. Seriously, it should be some kind of law that you must raise at least one puppy before you have to take that first prenatal vitamin.

More than once I heard phrases like "a face only a mother could love," "so ugly she's cute," and so on. With her wiry hair and snaggletoothed under bite, I guess there was truth in the words. Living single in the big city, I loved it that she had a big bark. If anyone knocked - or just made noise - outside my apartment door, she'd bark like a 100 pound dog. Fierce or frightened - it was a toss up. But loud, no question. A little over 10 years ago when depression reared it's ugly head and sucked me down into it's black hole, my doctor wisely recommended hospital treatment. I was admitted to a day program. I went in the morning and came home in the evenings. You know, like a job. And, boy, was it ever work! Being that depressed is tiring enough, then add to it all the emotional and mental work done during a program like that. I'd come home like a wet rag. Not that I had any desire to go out and about. Even if I had, I'd have been too exhausted. I would just lay on my daybed that served as a couch in my apartment staring toward the television. During those three weeks, Phoebe would come and lie on my chest with her head on my shoulder or neck and just be there with me. That was exactly the companionship I needed.

In more recent years, my other babies cried "unfair" that Phoebe "liked me more." Poor girl, she'd go sniffing room to room to find where I was and wait for me there. That's faithful. No matter that she didn't receive the amount of affection that she used to when it was just the two of us. No matter that her younger "siblings" pulled her tail and (sometimes) got away with it. She would still search me out and find me. Just to be sure of me, I suppose.

January of this year found her to be suffering most likely from an aggressive bone cancer. In a matter of days she had developed breaks in at least two or three places in her leg bones. With wise and comforting words from my dear brother, I found a vet who lovingly helped me let her go. And tonight I miss her. I'd really like to hear her annoyingly loud bark and then have her come sit on my chest.

Brody's Hand

2008-05-28T22:56:00.009-05:00

In a previous post on the other blog, I gave a list of blessings. Most with little or no comment or explanation. Again and still I feel blessed by my son's sweet hand. It is a five, almost six year old hand. Still thick and squishy like a little boy, but becoming bigger and stronger day by day. And as much as I love the feel of his hand in mine, I think I'm realizing more and more that what I love most is his desire to have it there. He still reaches for my hand with his. When I take his hand to cross the street or walk through a busy parking lot, unlike his older sister, he doesn't automatically remove his hand from mine upon reaching our destination. We hold hands as we walk back home from taking Iris to the bus stop, and then again when we go to pick her up. He holds my hand for a moment after I pick him up from school as we head out of the parking lot telling me about his day. Today was his last day of pre-kindergarten. Next year he'll ride the bus with his sister and I won't have the luxury of those daily mama and her boy moments.

I tell him often that the feel of his hand is one of my "most favoritest things." The other day after that repeat discussion, I asked him if he'd please still hold my hand sometimes when he's a grown up man and I'm a little old lady. He looked me right in the face and smiling said he would. I believe him!

Don't you think perhaps it is a bit like the Father when we choose to come into His Presence? Yes, He's always glad to see us, but even more so when it is in moments of our desire to just be with Him as opposed to coming with a long list of requests or complaints. To put our hand in His, saying, Father, I choose to be with You right now. I choose Your Love. I choose Your Presence. Don't you think His heart might just pop with joy as a warm smile crosses His face? See, that's why I love to lift my hands in worship. I'm not sure what goes on in the minds of others, but for me, it's like the toddler running across the yard giggling with joy at the sight of her Papa and saying "Daddy, I'm here! Pick me up, so I can be closer to You!"

Missing

2008-05-27T00:05:00.004-05:00

All those days of writing during my husband's health crisis. Then to just stop. I've missed it...the writing, that is. Perhaps I missed only the connection of knowing that people I know and love - as well as others I may not know at all - were taking the time to get a glimpse of my life. Perhaps it was the freedom that a time of crisis gave me to say what I really wanted to say. Perhaps it was getting feelings from my heart and soul and giving them words and a place to live outside of me. Perhaps it was an egocentric mindset that remembers the accolades of others towards my writing. Perhaps it is the vanity in me that choses to believe them. Perhaps it is all that. Or none of that. Or something else altogether. The bottom line is that, well, I've missed it. Maybe I do have something to say that others can find encouraging. Or maybe I just want a place to vent. My own little podium at the town square. (You know, that was one of the things I often said I liked about teaching high school kids - on a good day, I had a captive audience that would change every hour on the hour. If my routine was up to par, it was a blast.)

Here the topics will range from whatever to whatever. Here I will speak freely of the Joy and the LIFE that the Lifegiver showers upon us. What we chose to do with that Life, well, friends, that is the question isn't it?