Spiritual Vitamins

Christmas Intervention

2011-12-11T14:13:00.000-08:00

I still don't have all the correct equipment to stay warm during a Saskatchewan winter. As I enter my second Christmas season here in Canada I have a closet full of adorable knitted caps and scarves--some even with matching mittens--that I toted with me on our move from the United States. But the idea of looking cute in these winter fashions has had to fly out the window in favor of a less adorable wardrobe which helps me stay warm in the frigid temperatures.

I have a pair of "driving gloves" I got for a Christmas present when I lived in Oregon a few years ago. They kept the early morning chill off my hands in Eugene, but up here in the frozen tundra, that's a different story.

Last year I discovered how useless these gloves were here in Canada when I wore them as I braved subzero temperatures walking home from choir practice. When I got back into the warmth of my house, at first I couldn't feel my hands. Then gradually they began to ache as the life crept back into them.

It hurts to thaw out.

One of my favorite Christmas carols is "Come Thou Long Expected Jesus". The invitation of the first verse is so sweet and simple.

Come, thou long expected Jesus,
born to set thy people free;
from our fears and sins release us,
let us find our rest in thee.
Israel's strength and consolation,
hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.

This last week after I was at a service where we sang it, I felt a weight inside of me -- kind of a longing. Although it ached, I didn't want it to go away. I could feel my heart opening up to places inside where I am still waiting for Jesus in deeper ways. The warmth of God's Spirit was touching on frozen hopes and dreams within my heart.

It hurts to thaw out.

Christmastime is a season when God regularly does an intervention on me. When I finally slow down and listen to His voice I can hear Him asking me in deeper and deeper ways "Will you make room for me?"

My answer each time is "Yes!" And each time I revisit this place with God, the frozen places within my heart begin to melt and I am renewed.

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven.
No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him still,
The dear Christ enters in.

Come, dear Christ. My heart invites you afresh and anew to be Lord of my life. Rearrange and remove whatever you need to make more room for your presence.

Amen.

Connoisseur of Christianity

2011-09-06T19:14:00.000-07:00

I heard a story once from a missionary who was returning to the US after being in Mozambique for an extended time. She said the culture shock didn't fully sink in until she took a trip to the local grocery store. As she looked at the racks and racks of choices just for bread, she became paralyzed. She was unable to make a choice. Just days ago, the only bread she had was the loaf she bought several times a week from the local village woman. Now she could get it with sesame seeds, whole wheat, rye, white, enriched or all natural, etc.

We North Americans live with such abundance at our fingertips. There's so much to be thankful for, but there are trappings that come with the plentiful supply.

When something is readily available, it's becomes easy to get picky with how you like it. Coffee is a great example. Ten years ago, people would have thought it absurd to pay close to five dollars for a made-to-order cup of coffee. Today we think nothing of it.

It's entertaining to sit in a Starbucks and listen to people's orders for their drinks. One of my favorite quotes about this topic is from the movie "You've Got Mail". Tom Hanks' character is writing to Meg Ryan's character about people who order at Starbucks. He says:

"The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what they're doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self: Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino."

As funny as this quote is, it contains some truth that applies to other areas of life besides coffee ordering.

We live in a region where Christians are free to worship. Churches abound. Books and CDs and DVDs are simple to access. We do not lack for spiritual food. But in this abundance, it's easy to become picky eaters. We start deciding why we don't like certain churches, or don't enjoy the company of certain Christians the same way we choose our favorite brand of cereal.

I'm not knocking discernment. We need it more and more. The core truths of Christianity should never be watered down or compromised. This is something different.

Sometimes Bible believing Christians can lose out on great fellowship because they let their personal preferences get in the way.

When I was a toddler, I was a VERY picky eater. The only thing I would consistently eat was strained banana baby food. My Mom was just thankful I was eating so she regularly gave it to me. When she took me to the doctor for my check up he was horrified because my banana diet had turned my skin yellow! He (not so nicely) told my Mom she'd better find a way to get me to eat a balanced diet for my health's sake.

I admit, as I am living in a largely Christian area, I find myself picking and choosing a little too much in the area of my spiritual food. If I'm left to my own devices, I would probably still eat a spiritual diet of lots and lots of the same thing. God help me.

I want to be a vibrant, well-rounded Christian who can appreciate the many different giftings and expressions within God's people and His kingdom.

Growing up, my family would gather together every Thanksgiving and the table was loaded down with food. My eyes were set on the dressing, my favorite. But along with this wonderful concoction there were other dishes that I did not like as much. My grandma put a tiny bit of these foods on my plate. "Try just a bite," she said. "You never know, you just might like it."

I think I'm going to take my Grandma's advice in the area of my spiritual food as well. Who knows? I might just end up finding something I really like!

God, help me not reject what other Christian brothers and sisters bring to the table. Give me your grace to receive what they have and in doing so become more well-rounded and healthy in my own spirituality. Amen.

Contemplating Greatness

2011-08-20T17:57:00.000-07:00

What makes a person great? I've been thinking quite a bit about that lately. I have this pull in me to really have my life count for something. When I think of what that might look like, my thoughts usually come around to something visible that people would know I did or was involved with. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be linked to something great, but it's a really close cousin to wanting to be famous. Fame is fickle and we all know that not everyone who is famous is great.

There are acts of greatness that the world applauds: discovering the cure for polio, being awarded a purple heart for bravery, winning a gold medal in the Olympics.

But the more I think on this topic, I wonder if some of the biggest acts of greatness are often things that the masses cannot see -- maybe no one sees them--except God.

The person who is slandered and refuses to speak evil in return, the husband or wife who faithfully cares for a spouse whose health is failing, the long suffering parent who continues to believe for their prodigal to return, the friend who is loyal even when that loyalty is not returned -- all of these are acts of greatness.

While visible acts of greatness often bring acclaim, invisible acts don't. A person does the right thing seemingly without notice--no headlines, no praise, no award--at least not here on earth.

I read a quote last week that said something like "A person's character is best seen by how he treats another who cannot help him in return."

I want to be a person with this calibre of character. Perhaps there will be tangible things people remember me for, but more than that, I want to be someone who is willing to serve no matter what the return. I believe this makes God glad and that's the greatest thing of all!

Falling into Faith

2011-04-18T18:20:00.001-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about faith lately.

I friend told me a story about someone she knew who is really believing for a miracle of healing. Amidst her declarations of healing, her health has continued to deteriorate to the point of almost certain death. In this situation this person will not even hear of the possibility that this might be the time God brings her to heaven. She continues to declare she is healed.

I believe in healing. I believe in standing for a miracle in faith. But I wonder, is there a point where my refusal to consider any other possibility causes the situation to turn into one where I'm hanging onto my agenda rather than to God?

I want to be strong in my faith. I don't want to be one of those people who is afraid to even believe for impossible things because he doesn't want to risk disappointment. I want to ask, I want to believe God for big things. But how am I going to behave if those things don't happen the way I prayed they would?

I love the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Nebuchadnezzar had them thrown into the fiery furnace for refusing to bow down and worship an image of gold. These men were God's cream of the crop prophetic voices in a wicked Chaldean culture. Their response to Nebuchadnezzar before they were thrown into the fire stands out to me.

"O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. BUT EVEN IF HE DOES NOT, we want you to know O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." (Daniel 3:16-18.)

These three guys had seen their share of miracles. They knew God could get them out of the furnace. But they also knew that it was God who got to ultimately decide that, and no matter what He chose, they were going to serve Him.

So I wonder if those words of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego might be what a true prayer of faith sounds like. "God I want you to heal me, I know you can. I'm believing for that. But even if you don't I'm going to worship you."

When I was in my late twenties I had an acute attack of pancreatitis. I wound up in the hospital for almost 10 weeks and had two surgeries and lots of tubes sticking out of me. They never found the cause, they simply treated the illness at hand.

During that time, I prayed, I believed, I had friends try to cast demons out of me, I worshipped, and finally at my wits end I surrendered. I came across a verse in Psalms 73:25-26,28--"Whom have I in heaven but Thee? And besides Thee I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart they may fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. But as for me, the nearness of God is my good. I have made the Lord my refuge that I might tell of all his works."

In my case, once I surrendered I began to get better. But I don't think that's a given.

Surrendering isn't always a pretty process. There's some inner wrestling involved when you surrender your agenda to a sovereign God. But oddly enough, I think surrender brings freedom. I think surrender is extreme faith. It's letting go of whatever I'm holding onto and trusting God to catch me.

Gifts

2010-12-20T15:06:00.000-08:00

This whole gift giving thing really has me uptight.

In the last two weeks I have been lavished with simple, yet thoughtful gifts from new friends and co-workers--homemade cookies and treats, flavored honeys and syrup, handmade cards. The thoughtfulness overwhelms me and then I quickly realize my hands are empty and I have nothing to give in return. I feel like a Christmas failure.

I'm not an artsy-craftsy kind of gal. I would LOSE friends if I gave away things I made! Somehow a store-bought box of chocolates feels impersonal. I don't have enough money to buy each friend a new car, so my dilemma remains. What to give? How do I show my gratitude?

Today I had a new friend over for tea. I totally enjoyed visiting and hearing her story--so much so that we went overtime and had to quickly end things so we could hurry to other responsibilities. But it got me thinking. I felt so blessed after the visit. It was a real treat--a gift. But this was a gift I knew I could give in return--friendship!

Christmas challenges me to give what I have--to give of myself. I am especially drawn to the accounts of the Christmas story in Matthew and Luke that speak about the wise men and the shepherds. We sing songs about how great the wise men's gifts were: Gold, frankencense and myrrh. They gave what they had--they were kings!

The shepherds were astounded by an angel choir telling them about Christ's birth. In return they hurried off to find this baby they had been told about. No mention is made of them bringing gifts, even though they might have. What they DID do was spread the good news far and wide. They were messengers. They gave as they told others what they had seen and heard.

One thing is for sure. No one was having a "best gift competition" at the manger. All other gifts paled in comparison when laid at the feet of the greatest Gift of all. The shepherds and wise men both had the same response--worship.

So I'm realizing anew that it's not about my gifts--it's about my focus. If the gift is the focus, my stress levels start to rise and I'm sure I won't be able to measure up. The truth is, I won't. I don't. However, if I'm giving what gifts I have in order to honor Christ's birth, I feel alive inside. I am aware that I do have something to offer--myself.

There's No Place Like Home

2010-11-13T18:55:00.000-08:00

Well, It's mid-November, and for some miraculous reason, the THOUSANDS of snow geese in our area know that now is the time to migrate to warmer climates. At just about any time during the day you can look overhead and see the sky filled with geese getting out of town. They aren't being quiet about it either. The air is filled with their cacophony of high pitched shrieks. It's amazing and kind of eerie at the same time. How do they know where to go? How do they know when to stop? How will they know when they find home? Snow geese mate for life, so wherever they go, they go with their partner.

Home is an important place--especially when it's cold outside. It's somewhere that I know I'll be warm and safe, but it's more than that. It's where my family is. It's a place where I can hang around in my pajamas, forget about putting on makeup and no one will vote me off the island. I have a lifetime membership with this clan--warts and all.

Although the gift of immediate family is a wonderful thing, it isn't static. It grows. It shrinks. It changes. As much as I would love to hang onto the status quo for my own comfort, I cannot. In the last year I have moved away from two of my adult children who now have spouses of their own. My head knew this was a good thing, but somehow I felt a sense of homelessness within myself as I said my goodbyes and boarded a plane. I had temporarily lost my "happy place" on the inside of me and I felt lost.

As I have ruminated and adjusted to life in a new location, I've come back up to the surface with a deep appreciation for another family that I'm a part of: The family of God. The town where we moved is filled with people who love God and have shown it over and over again by the way they have embraced the smaller version of our family and helped us settle in every way possible. Even though these people aren't immediate kin, they have shown care and concern for my family's safety and wellbeing. Their love has provided a safe place to be when thing's have felt cold and unsettling on the outside.

Family is powerful. It's the vessel that God chose to usher Jesus into the world when it was very cold and dark outside. Even though Jesus is now preparing a forever-home for me in heaven, His Spirit lives inside of me here on earth and I'm never separated from His presence. No matter what changes, no matter where I go, the presence of God is always with me. That's my real home--that's my happy place.

Last Sunday was baptism Sunday in church. The whole service was dedicated to baptizing 5 people. The room was filled with family and loved ones of those about to be baptized. As one particular young man took his turn to be baptized he told how he grew up without parents and was tossed back and forth in the foster care system until he finally landed with a Christian family who kept him and introduced him to salvation in Jesus. He spoke about how the faith he has found in Jesus and the friends he has made at church and college have given him a place to belong that he never had. There was hardly a dry eye in the house. As the young man came up out of the water from baptism, the pastor lovingly wrapped a terry cloth robe around his dripping-wet body and said, "Welcome Home!"

O Canada!

2010-08-26T17:05:00.000-07:00

About 45 years ago my Dad answered an ad in an academic publication and applied for a job as head librarian of a Christian college in Oklahoma. He got the position and the resulting move took our family several states away from relatives and friends and landed us in a new place that we knew very little about. Looking back at it now, I can appreciate what a huge risk it was for my parents to make this decision. With my 20/20 hindsight, now I can see how this move positively influenced our family's spiritual beliefs, and put me in a place where I could develop into the young woman God created me to be and eventually meet my husband. It was a launching pad for my destiny!

At the time of this move I was only 5 years old and all I knew was that we were moving away from my grandma, but we got to get a newer, bigger house. I couldn't understand at that young age that God wasn't just expanding our living space, He was expanding our lives.

I've thought of this situation several times in the last year as my own family has travelled a similar path. We recently made a huge move from the US to Canada. Two years ago I would have thought a transition like this would be insane, but God's voice and our circumstances made us more and more willing to take the leap.

So here we are, transplanted from the lush Willamette Valley of Oregon to the prairie of Saskatchewan, Canada. I would be lying if I said that the move has been easy. It has challenged every fiber of my being--but God has never left me through a minute of the process.

When my husband came to interview for his job in Saskatchewan, I was taken aback by how absolutely FLAT the terrain is. A person can go for miles and miles and miles and not meet one bend in the road. I laughed when I thought of the Bible verse that says "You have set me in a large place." As time has passed, the beauty of the prairie with it's amazing sunsets and wide open sky has begun to sink into me. I am becoming more and more aware that God has been the chief instigator of this transition.

The house number that our family is renting is 118. Initially, I thought nothing of it, except to try to commit it to memory for postal purposes. However, On our trip to move our family up to Canada, our hotel room number was also 118. I laughed at the coincidence and thought God was just having mercy on my overwhelmed mind by giving me a room number that I could remember. The next morning, however, I felt compelled to flip to Psalm 118. My eyes fell to verse 5: "From my distress I called upon the Lord; The Lord answered me and SET ME IN A LARGE PLACE!" I felt so strongly that God's Spirit was affirming to me that this large place was to be our address; the place we lived. And I rest assured from prior experience that He's not just expanding our living space--He's expanding our lives!

So as I continue to physically and mentally unpack things from this move I rest in the thought that God holds all our details in the palm of His hand. I thank God for His faithfulness to us that brought us through the path we traveled the last 2 years, and I look at the long straight road ahead of us that leads toward our future and I smile.

Planting Seeds

2010-05-16T18:48:00.000-07:00

We recently sold our family home that we had lived in for over 10 years. Although we were very grateful to sell it, there was a sense of loss because it was such a wonderful, nurturing place for our family for the last decade. The couple we bought the home from had lovingly built and lived in the home themselves for about 20 years before. Every spring in our backyard, the entire border was filled with beautiful, mature, rhododendrons of several colors. Over the years the branches had intertwined together so that the bushes appeared to have multi-colored blooms all over them. A few months later, the blueberry bushes would yield so many berries that I grew tired of picking buckets full every other day. Around the corner we had healthy raspberry bushes too. One cool summer evening I remember sitting and enjoying the loveliness all around me when I realized that most of the beauty and fruit around me was due to someone else's efforts. The former owners had carefully landscaped and cared for these mature plants that I loved and admired so much. I'm sure they planted them for their own enjoyment, but I received the benefit of that!

I've thought about that realization quite a bit in the last few months. My husband and I are nearing the end of our current work assignment. We are searching and waiting to find out what's next for our family. Transitions like this invite self examination. What seeds have I planted or helped nurture that the people coming behind us will enjoy? I can feel the selfish tug of wanting to put my name on things I leave behind so people will know how I contributed! But deeper still I can feel God pulling on me to release everything to Him. Just as a seed has to die and become broken inside of the ground to bear fruit, this process is inviting me to a deep surrender. Perhaps some of the best things I have planted are mainly for other people to enjoy who I may never meet. They may never know who I am.

At first I could physically feel the YANK inside my heart as I entertained this thought. Now I feel a flutter of excitement because I realize that I am releasing my seed into the wind of God's spirit. He can take it wherever He wants and do so much more with it than I ever can or could! This process isn't perfect in me. I still struggle to stay in that place of yieldedness. But as I land there I realize that God has been breaking me to make me willing to let Him blow on me and my family and send us wherever He wishes. While that would have been unthinkable only a short while ago, now we are excited and expectant for what lies ahead. Wherever it is, and for how long or short it may be, I'm sure there's going to be good fruit!

Heavenly Punctuation

2010-03-26T19:43:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make. I am a spelling/punctuation geek. I cringe whenever I encounter typos in church bulletins, or business signs. When I was in high school, I even attended a punctuation competition. (Yes, they have those!) In this illustrious contest, each entrant was handed a brief, typed essay that was filled with various punctuation and spelling errors. The focus was to find as many errors as possible in 1 hour's time. I wound up coming in second place for my age bracket.

Well, I'm grown up now, and I'm a bit rusty on my punctuation skills, but I still am an avid supporter of correct grammar. Consider the power of the comma. Alone, it's a simple, slender punctuation mark that looks alot like an eyelash. But when it's used properly, it can make even the strongest of men pause for reflection.

Lynn Truss, author of a famous punctuation textbook, humorously illustrates this point with the following two sentences: 1.The chinese panda eats shoots and leaves. 2. The chinese panda eats, shoots, and leaves. While the first sentence describes the panda as an herbivore, the second sentence depicts the panda as a heartless killer! This is all because of a little inserted comma in the second sentence!

Without punctuation it's often easy to misunderstand a message or race through a reading too fast. A comma says, "Hey, pause a minute! There's something here worth looking at a bit closer." It sets a rhythm and slows down the pace.

Sometimes there are punctuation points in life. I recently hit some in my own. I'm a busy wife and mother of four children. It's easy for me to pick up speed in life and keep blazing through one day after another. Then I got word that my mother had ovarian cancer. I felt like the rest of the world kept whirring around me, but my life skidded down to extreme slow motion. It felt like a big period had been added to a section of my life story. Something came to a screeching halt. I asked God all the "why" questions, and walked through several days feeling like a zombie. Then I started to feel a shift.

As my family joined together in faith to believe for my Mom's recovery, I began to see this chapter could still be a good one. Things weren't ending--they were just slowing down. I found a real beauty in that. As I made the trip to see my Mom, we spent a lot of time simply visiting. She laid on the couch as we laughed and shared at a level we hadn't in a long time. Normally we would have felt like we should be doing something. This necessary pause, due to her illness, helped us focus on the most important thing of all--family.

The late comedienne, Gracie Allen said, "Never put a period where God only placed a comma." While my Mom's diagnosis felt like the end of the world, it has turned out to be a meaningful pause for my family. Each day is filled with purpose and very little is taken for granted. The chirping of the birds, the sun streaming through the window, the kind gestures of a concerned neighbor, finding a beautiful wig to wear during chemo treatments--all of these stand out at a time like this. The rhythm of life's dance has changed to a more intimate, slow pace.

On my own, I don't know how much I would learn from life. I think I would just blaze right through it. As I look over my life thus far, I find that most of my lessons come at times like these when a comma is inserted in my life. In this period of reflection and pause, God offers wisdom and insight that help equip me for things down the road. And I realize just how full and blessed my life really is.

Here comes the Bride

2010-01-30T21:13:00.000-08:00

My second oldest daughter, Abby, is getting married in August! Our family couldn't be happier. Her fiance, Jeremy, is a wonderful young man and a great match for her. Recently Abby set out to find her wedding dress. Even though a wedding dress is just a piece of clothing, there are entire magazines, television programs and books written to help you choose just the right one for "the big day." The process can feel overwhelming. But Abby was up for the challenge. She knew the kind of dress she wanted and she went on-line and found that another young woman was selling this very dress (never been worn) for a quarter of the retail price. The dress was two hours away in Portland, so we hopped in the car to go and see the dress and try it on! The dress fit Abby perfectly. Even though she quickly tied her hair up to put the veil on, and still had her jeans on underneath the dress, she looked radiant. But just in case her fiance reads this blog I shouldn't go into anymore detail other than to tell you that the dress is beautiful and white:)

All this wedding stuff has me musing about the rich spiritual symbolism that lies within the subject of marriage itself. In the Bible, the church is called the Bride of Christ. I am not a theologian, but I can tell you that must mean the church is pretty important to God. But church is such a loaded topic today, isn't it? So many wonderful people I meet have either been hurt by the church and aren't going anymore, or else they are bored by much of the traditional ways of "doing church". I've often fallen into the latter category the last few years. In my boredom, my tendency has been to become the Roger Ebert of church services. Each service either gets a thumbs up or a thumbs down depending on my critique. One day when I was mentally filing through my list of criticisms for the church, I believe God gave me a daydream.

In this daydream, I was in a surgery room. On the table was a young woman who needed surgery. I was handed the scalpel and rather than strategically cutting where surgery was needed, I started slashing and cutting away with little regard for the patient.

Right away I knew I'd been busted. By this simple picture God showed me that I had been mercilessly cutting down the church. My sharp critique carried no regard for the health of the church.

It's easy to get lost in criticism for the church, but the bottom line is this. God loves her! In layman's terms, the church is Jesus' girlfriend. He loves to be in her presence. Somehow by seeing the church as a woman in my daydream, it helped me realize in a deeper way that the church isn't an institution--and really, that's the part I'm bored with. It's people. But it's people connected together because of Jesus' sacrificial love and forgiveness.

In Matthew 18:20 it says, "For where two or three are gathered together in My name, there I am in their midst." It's one thing to worship God in our alone time, but something dynamic happens when we gather together with other believers and worship. I think God comes running to meet with us because we start to resemble the Bride!

Sure. There are lots of improvements the church needs to make, but according to the Bible, the church's best days are still ahead. Ephesians 5:27 says that when God comes back for Her, that She will be spotless and perfect. Wow. That's something I want to be a part of!

When I was a kid we sang silly words to the traditional wedding march song. I'm sure you've heard it--"Here comes the bride, big, fat, and wide. . ." Even though that version of the song isn't meant to flatter the bride or the groom, I now see the words of that first line as a statement of faith depicting the Church when she is perfected. Not weak, not sick, but hearty and full of life! I'm not sure exactly how that will happen or what it will look like, but I think I got a small snapshot of it when I saw my daughter in her wedding dress--it will be beautiful and it will be white:)

Expectantly Waiting. . .

2010-01-06T09:02:00.000-08:00

I'm going to be a grandma for the first time! I'm so excited I could wet my pants--which is easier for me to do these days than you might think. My daughter just finished her first trimester and is feeling better and starting to show a cute little "bump" where my precious grandchild happily and safely resides for the time being. Next week she and her husband have an ultrasound to check on the baby's health, but also to see if they can tell whether it's a boy or a girl. That is why I am writing this blog now. I don't know whether this sweet bundle of life is a boy or a girl. I don't know his or her name, I don't know what color of hair he/she will have or whether her/his eyes will be blue or green, but I can tell you I am madly in love with that baby already!

According to pregnancy.com, my precious grandbaby is currently only about 4 inches long--about the size of an apple. His or her eyelids are still fused shut. Weeks ago I saw very early sonograms of the baby--at that point the pictures looked like a pinto bean with two spindly legs dangling. On the very end of each leg were 5 tiny dots--precious toes! My heart leapt at how precious that little pinto bean baby was!

As I watch my beautiful daughter's tummy grow rounder, I am so grateful that I get to see my baby have a baby. My heart is thrilled that the loving marriage she has is literally bearing fruit. I'm excited to see how her child will look. Will he/she have her daddy's curly hair? Will she/he have her mother's blue eyes?

As I pondered the incredible love I already have for my grandchild, my thoughts naturally turned to the depth of God's love for me. He knew me before I was even conceived in my mother's womb! When he looks at my spiritual life and sees the parts of me where I am still growing, he doesn't reject me because of my immaturity! He is delighted at the prospect of the new life within me and He knows what the meager beginnings are going to become inside of me.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that my love for my grandbaby has given me a greater patience with my own shortcomings. Although I am excited for my grandbaby's birth, I am very willing to wait the 9 months because I want a healthy baby. There is right time for things to be born. But I wait in hope, and I know that each new day brings new growth inside my daughter's womb. As I wait for this blessed event--coming the end of May--I am desiring to do some growing of my own. I hope that I can look at each day of my life as an opportunity for maturing and know that the things God has put inside of me will come forth. There's just a timing for them. For these things I am learning to wait with hope.

Bearing the Fruit of God's Promises

2009-12-17T08:37:00.000-08:00

I love Christmastime. I even like most everything about the hustle and bustle of the season. But what I love most is pondering the story of Christmas. It seems like every year there is a different aspect of Jesus' birth that stands out to me.

Last night my daughter and I were watching The Nativity Story on DVD. As I watched it this time, I was impacted by Mary and Joseph's willing hearts to do whatever God asked of them. Often I have focused on what an honor it would have been to be chosen by God to bear His Son. But this time the thing that stood out was the heaviness and cost of that task. Mary was a virgin promised to marry. As her belly grew big and round with the life inside of her, those around her most likely judged her character in a negative way, figuring that she had broken her vow to be chaste until marriage. Even her parents must have wondered if she was spinning a story about carrying the Son of God! Such a thing was never heard of before. I'm sure Mary herself often wondered what was happening to her.

Joseph obeyed God through the message in a dream and took Mary as his wife, even though the baby she carried was not his. In doing so, his character was probably also judged in a negative manner. People could have assumed that he had broken his vows to remain pure until marriage, or perhaps he was covering up for a sinful fiance'. Yet he bore this burden for God's sake. Even after Jesus was born, I am sure Mary and Joseph had little idea how this "Son of God" thing was going to unfold. They could only raise him as they would any son--day by day. Every other direction would have to come from God in His time.

I desire to be used powerfully by God--to be chosen by him to bear great fruit for His kingdom. What I often fail to recognize is the incredible cost there might be in that assignment. There could be negative judgments from others about the credibility of what I carry inside of me. I may have to navigate through seasons of self doubt as well. Can I really believe that God has spoken to me even when it costs me a great deal? Even as some of these promises are born, can I walk through the process of trusting God to show me how to steward the fruit He gives to me?

The Christmas story assures me that God looks compassionately on my human frailty. He went out of His way to reveal Himself to all mankind in a way they could understand--whether they were blue collar shepherds or upper class wise men. All He asked for was obedience--to follow Him at His word. So, in light of that revelation, my prayer this Christmas season is that my heart will respond as Mary's did--"Be it done to me according to Your Word."

Hiddenness

2009-10-16T18:18:00.000-07:00

It's so easy to get preconceived ideas--especially when it comes to thinking I know how God is going to work in my life. For the last year, I've sensed that change was coming down the pike. I even blogged about it. (see my post entitled "Waiting"). I knew it was the birth of something new, and I was excited to see it's arrival.

Change has come, but not exactly in the form I expected. There's change on EVERY side of my life. With this change there has had to come a releasing of the old. Funny, in my visions of this new birth, I never factored in having to give up too much. I just figured I'd add this new thing into everything else! But that's not even how real births happen. With every birth, there is a letting go. The mother's body surrenders to the needs of the growing baby; parents give up their right to sleep as late as they want. Life is now centered around growing and providing for a new little life.

So it is with the changes happening with me. Although there is much change AROUND me, I'm finding that the main changes God wants me to focus on are the changes He wants to do WITHIN me. There's a radical level of surrender God is asking that reveals the hidden places of selfishness I have inside of me. Places where I have propped myself up by titles, or accomplishments etc. Instead of this, I've been thrust into a place of seeming hiddenness where I feel I'm regularly a failure.

Strangely, however, the more I am in this place, the more liberating it feels. I have a deeper realization that my value to God remains regardless of my level of performance. I am learning that some of God's best work is done in secret. So I remain in this transitional state and trust that whatever God is up to is good. My job is simply to align myself with Him and let go of those preconceived ideas. . .

Cheering in the Middle

2009-07-10T18:20:00.000-07:00

Two years ago I woke up early on the 4th of July in order to be waiting at the finish line of a 10K run my college-age daughter was running in. The celebratory atmosphere, and the excitement as people crossed the finish line made me vow to be a participant the next time. I'm not in good enough shape to run a 10K so I signed up to walk the 4.5 mile "Mayor's Fitness Walk". It's the same route as the run, but it eliminates a 2 mile hill that the runners must conquer. I talked most of my family into walking it with me.

The morning of the 4th, the starting line was absolutely electric. It was a beautiful summer's morning and the weather was about 70 degrees. Amid brightly colored streamers and blaring music, there were over 5,000 people waiting for the starting gun to go off. The runners got a 15 minute head start so they didn't have to navigate around the walkers. Once our starting shot rang out, our family foursome started off with the rest of the walkers at a steady clip. After mile marker number one I could tell our 16 yr. old son was feeling the need for speed. We gave him permission to run on ahead and told him where to meet us. Then there were three.

My husband, my 12 year old daughter and myself continued on at a leisurely pace. Afterall, I told myself, we were not in this to win, we just wanted to enjoy it. But my daughter's excitement was waning. She wanted her try at running up ahead too. We were about half way done. We gave her the go ahead and told her where to meet us. Then there were two.

At this point the runners had long passed us up, in fact, the winner of the race had already been decided. We walkers were simply trying to finish what we started. We were a diversified lot! There were able-bodied, handicapped, elderly, children, men, women, strollers, dogs. But the most inspiring thing I saw took place on the sidelines. Starting at about mile marker number 2 there were people sitting all along the road in their lawn chairs enjoying the sight. I marveled at their resilience to stay and watch the last of us finish this race. Their faces were still excited as they watched each one of us pass. Some of them cheered us on--"You're half way there!" "you're doing so good!" There were elderly people in wheelchairs waving their arms in encouragement, a hippie drum corps sending us "good vibrations", and even police men smiling and waving as we trudged by. The thing that inspired me was that these precious cheerleaders were stationed at places along the race route where they would not be able to see the outcome of the race. They would not see whether or not I ever finished, but they were there to tell me I was doing a great job and they believed I could make it.

My walk took on a steady determined gait as I gained strength and determination to not only finish this race, but to also be a loyal cheerleader for the people I encounter on life's path. Sometimes I may get the honor of being at the starting gate as people launch into new beginnings of their lives. Sometimes I may be on the finish line when people achieve goals they've set out to conquer. But other times I will have the honor of meeting someone in the middle of their journey where encouragement is probably needed the most. Although I may never know whether they make their final destination, hopefully my contribution will help nudge them in the right direction.

With this new resolve in place I could hear the crowds of people cheering as the walkers began to cross the finish line. I turned to my husband, grabbed his hand and we crossed the finish line together while our children,who had successfully finished before us, cheered us on along the sidelines. What a great day!

Crockpot Theology

2009-05-02T21:00:00.000-07:00

I have rediscovered a love for cooking with my crockpot. Actually I've rediscovered my crockpot. It was a wedding present (26 years ago!). It has a funky orange, green and brown design that gives its era away--very retro. As my work schedule has increased, I've needed time-saving ways to cook for my family and so I pulled the old crockpot from the back of my pots and pans cabinet. It's like a treasure I forgot I had! For the past 3 months I've cooked in it at least one time a week, sometimes more. Throw a bunch of vegetables and some meat in the crockpot in the morning, and when I get home from work, wonderful smells of a tender, succulent stew are greeting me at the door.

The secret, of course, to a crock pot's success is SLOW, steady heat. When food is subjected to this kind of process, it becomes very tender and all the flavors blend together. I thought about how that also can apply to life. The processes that have broken me and made me a better more tender individual have been things that have taken a good amount of time. Being a parent is probably one of my crock pots of life. I laugh sometimes when I remember what I was like before I had children. I had lots of goals but they were pretty self-centered. Our first pregnancy was not planned. It seemed to put a big obstacle in the middle of our career plans and dreams. I was in an internship to become a marriage and family counselor and I had to stop out for awhile to have my baby.

Although I felt such awe and love for my new baby daughter at her birth, my adjustment to being a new parent was not carefree. Our baby was collicky and didn't sleep well for 5 months--so we didn't either. I felt overwhelmed at figuring out how to bathe, clothe, feed, diaper, entertain this new little life that I was responsible for. Everything in my life was contingent on this little creature!

Finally after a few months, I returned, very part time, to interning in counseling. I was worried that my time away from the practice would make my skills rusty, but I found that my counseling instincts had been sharpened as I cared for my child. I had wanted to become a better counselor, but I had actually become a better person. As I was forced to set aside my own agenda and care for another life, my heart had become more tender and I was able to see and feel things that I was too selfish to see before.

Meditating on this inspires me to have hope for similar outcomes for other areas of my life where I feel overwhelmed right now. My prayer is that I will surrender to the process God is doing in my life and come out on the other side a softer, gentler, more authentic version of myself. Maybe that's why God says WELL DONE to those tender souls who finish what He's called them to do.

Come and Sit a Spell

2009-04-01T20:31:00.000-07:00

For the first 16 years of our married life, my husband and I were in some sort of schooling. We were very productive during this time of our life--We got 4 graduate degrees between us and all 4 of our children were born. Like most graduate students we didn't have much money. We also moved a lot (around 17 times) looking for affordable and safe housing--which was hard to find!

As we looked at the many different houses we had to choose from, I was always especially drawn to the ones that had a front porch. I mentioned to my co-worker how much I felt drawn to porches and she bought me a calendar that had beautiful glossy pictures of porches from all different kinds of locations. Just leafing through the calendar pictures brought a calm, serene feeling to my otherwise harried life.

In a time of life when we were never in a location for too long, porches reminded me of the importance of slowing down and spending time with God and with people--valuing relationship. Porches are the part of the house that a person encounters first. Maybe there are rocking chairs that beckon someone to sit for awhile, or maybe there's just dead plants and rusty toys. How do I extend myself to others? Do I welcome people into my life or do I send a message that I don't have time for them?

Just before my husband finished his final graduate degree (Hooray!), my son, then 5, took a liking to The Andy Griffith Show reruns. Regularly our whole family would end up around the television totally taking in our 30 minutes of life in Mayberry. Many time Andy, Barney, Aunt Bea and Opie would find themselves on a Sunday afternoon on the front porch. Andy was strumming his guitar and everyone else was semi-comatose. They were just being with each other. Peacefully.

That is how I want to extend myself to others. I want to offer God's love to people and welcome them as they are. Words are fine, but they aren't necessary. Being comfortable and authentic with each other are what's important. That kind of fellowship goes down like a cool drink of iced tea on a hot summer's day.

So whatever situation you may find yourself in today, pull up and sit a spell with me. Enjoy the small selection of "porch music" I've assembled, close your eyes and feel the warmth of God's love and the sun on your face. . .

Frustrations of a Blog Party Newbie

2009-03-23T15:57:00.000-07:00

Wow! I'm new to this blogging party scene, and it's been quite an experience figuring things out! I know the instructions are probably simple for most to understand, but it took me awhile to figure out how to get myself registered. I'm still not sure what the heck a Mr. Linky is, (or a widget!). They sound like science fiction creatures. Anyway, I think I got around everything o.k. Feel free to look around my blog.

I love to write about places that I find God in my everyday life. As a Christian, I want to learn to hear God's voice more clearly. I find on my journey that what I need to learn most is how to stop ignoring God! It's so easy in the process of a busy life to just zoom by and miss that God was even involved. So, this blog is my way of holding myself accountable to look for God in the big and small places in my life. Hopefully along the way I will make some friends in the blogosphere!

My wish list for prizes in this party are: #11- Aromatherapy from Oils for Wellness; #19 - $50 gift card to Target #24 - Prisoner of Circumstance from Justbeingme1 After that anything like gift certificates, candles, or oils.

Everyday Heroes

2009-03-07T20:47:00.000-08:00

I'm not much of a phone person. I much prefer communicating by e-mail. It gives me time to thoughtfully craft my responses or questions to people, and it takes a lot less time. I'm constantly in awe of those people who are attached to their cell phones. How do they do it? What is there to talk about? How do they get anything else done? ( I could think of more questions, but I'll stop there.)

I talk to my Mom long-distance by phone about once a week. She always wants to know what's new. That question regularly stumps me. I know my Mom would be happy to hear whatever I would have to say--even if it's just that I changed peanut butter brands--but sometimes I honestly feel like NOTHING is new. I get up, have an hour to myself, get the family up and feed them breakfast. After everyone is out the door for school and work, my day is filled with counseling appointments at work or duties around the house. After school I cart people to practices etc. and once again focus on getting everyone fed and in for the night. The next day I repeat. Of course there are little differences here and there, but overall that is my life.

There is an underlying feeling when I'm lost in the monotony of my everyday life that I'm not doing anything remarkable. I'm just being a Mom, a wife, a teacher, etc. . . Sometimes I long for a change, but the truth is that whenever I get a chance to get away for a bit I miss it.

My oldest daughter had to constuct a school project depicting the major influences in her life. To do this she went through our big box of family photos. (It's the over-sized shoe box where I stuff any photo that I promise myself I will later put in an album.) As I looked at photos from even the last year I was amazed at how each of us in the family had changed. Even though the daily routine of our lives was pretty unchanging, we were still growing, and maturing. I look at my youngest child and remember so vividly when she was born. How can she be 11 already? It happened one day at a time. My husband and I celebrated our 26th wedding anniversary last year. How can that be? It's one day stacked upon another, upon another, upon another. . .

I am realizing that some of the most consistent, steadfast, and lasting things that I have in my life are the fruit of seemingly endless days of doing the same things: Getting up and being a Mom even when I don't feel like it; staying married through the good and the bad; showing up for work even when it isn't fun. Faithfulness.

It's not going to be anything that makes the headlines in the newspaper. (Julie Cole made her kids pancakes for breakfast this morning!) But over time those actions build lives, they shape destinies, they bear good fruit. When those actions are not there in someone's life they leave a huge hole that needs to be filled.

So here's to all the everyday heroes who got up today and faithfully did what the day required of them. Even though it may feel unimportant or unremarkable, there's good fruit ahead if we stay the course.

Waiting. . .

2009-01-25T18:52:00.000-08:00

I don't think I know anyone who loves waiting. From ATMs to drive-thrus our whole society keeps inventing things that make it possible for things to be done more quickly--and supposedly with less hassle. Waiting used to be more of a normal occurrence. Before home computers were so prevalent, if I wrote a letter to someone, stamped it and stuck it in the mailbox, I would know that some time had to pass before I could expect a response. Today with email, I can type out my request and it wouldn't be out of the ordinary to have a response back in minutes.

Waiting adds a rhythm to life that's often forgotten. Seed time (waiting) then harvest. Conception (waiting) then birth. There's a cliche that says "Good things come to them that wait", but there's not too many people lining up to find out if that's true. It's often something we find out by being forced to wait.

I'm in a season of waiting right now. And to make matters worse, I can't even really tell you exactly what I'm waiting for except that it's a change for the better. Is it spiritual change? physical change? emotional change? I hope so. I can sense in my spirit that there's something new on the horizon, but that's about it. There's a growing expectancy inside of me that makes it difficult to keep doing the same old same old. It's a little bit like I felt right around the 8th month of my pregnancies. "Let's get this baby out!" But at least when I was pregnant I had some idea of what kind of change was going to happen.

At other times I feel like I'm the baby waiting to be born--I'm growing and becoming prepared to be brought into something new.

But the waiting is hard. To keep going I've needed some signposts. Whenever I plant a garden in the summer I put a little stick next to the rows of vegetables I've planted and then I put a picture on the stick to see what I can expect. I regularly visit and water this place anticipating signs of growth and change.

God has given me some great promises from Scripture for this wait. I have written them down and earmarked them in my Bible. I keep coming back to them and let them water my spirit while I wait for signs of growth, both inside and outside of me, to confirm that change is coming.

I'd love to end this note with a neat and tidy ending, but I'm in process. I can tell you that I'm hanging onto the belief that God wouldn't ask me to wait for something that's worthless. I'm excited to look back on this and know at least in part what the wait was for. I'll keep you posted. . .

God With Us

2008-12-13T11:21:00.000-08:00

Probably just like the rest of you, I've been running around trying to get everything checked off of my Christmas list before December 25th rolls around. With Thanksgiving falling later this year, I have only become more panicked that I might not accomplish my goals.

We don't decorate as much as some people do, but the inside of our house has several corners where we have decorations with twinkling lights. In the last couple of weeks my youngest daughter, Deborah, has asked me several times if I would put on the Christmas music, turn off all the houselights and sit with her while we enjoy the twinkling lights. At first, I never felt like I had time to "just sit", but to please her I made time. However, I made sure she knew it would only be "for a little while." Each time I've done this I've been surprised at how the fog of this busy season lifts and I gradually begin to feel the warmth and peace that only Christ's presence can bring. In that moment I am reconnected to Jesus, My Saviour, the reason for this holiday.

There's a story in the Bible about two sisters,Mary and Martha, who were close friends of Jesus. One time when Jesus was visiting their home, Martha busied herself preparing the food and other details for Jesus. Meanwhile Mary plopped herself down on the ground to listen to what Jesus was saying. Martha, understandably, got upset by this and tattled to Jesus about Mary and asked Him to scold her for her laziness. Jesus explained to Martha that by sitting at His feet, Mary had actually chosen the more important thing.

It's so easy to get caught up in details and planning. If I'm not careful they can actually rob me of my ability to be fully present for whatever I'm supposed to be celebrating. This Christmas season, my daughter reminds me that it's in sitting, in slowing down and being WITH Jesus that I've chosen the most important thing--my relationship with Him. Isn't it just like Jesus to give US presents on HIS birthday?!

The Power of a Word

2008-11-06T18:48:00.000-08:00

I remember after I got married how my Mom really urged me to quickly send out my thank you notes to all the people who gave us wedding gifts. I did it, but it was a chore trying to write something sincere in over 200 notes! I was surprised at how many people warmly told me they appreciated my thank you card.

I wish I could say that I continue to be wonderful at writing thank you notes, but I'm not. I'm much better at verbally thanking someone (or emailing a thank you) if the chance arises. For some reason, hand-written letters are things I rarely get around to. Recently, however, I received two different hand-written thank you notes from others. As I read them I could feel my heart warm toward the people who took the time to thank me for something I had done that they appreciated. It's amazing how much power two words have to bless someone, and how many times I miss the chance.

We all know that words have power, but I wonder how often we really think about it. Words are like tools that we can use to build up or tear down. I read a study about how it takes 10 compliments about performance ("I like the way you play the piano", etc.) to erase the effects of one critical remark about performance--("You stink at playing the piano".) It takes 100 compliments about our personhood--("You are a wonderful person") to erase the effects of one critical remark about our personhood--("You are stupid"). Holding such power in our mouths is an awesome responsibility.

There's a story in the Bible about how 10 men with leprosy came to Jesus asking to be healed. He told them all to go and wash in the river and they did and were healed. They all went on their merry way in health--except ONE of them returned to thank Jesus for healing him. Jesus told him his faith had made him whole. None of the other men lost their healing, but I have to believe there must have been something special that happened inside the man who remembered to thank Jesus for his healing.

A Japanese scientist has studied the effects of words on water by freezing the water crystals after certain words are spoken or even just attached to containers of water. He has found that words of prayer and healing yield beautiful symmetrical water crystals while words of cursing bring about chaotic scattered crystals.

The beautiful little picture attached to this that looks like a snowflake is actually a frozen water crystal taken after someone said the words "Thank you."

If the human body is composed of mostly water, think of the incredible inner work of beauty that those two words construct within a person when they hear, or when they say "Thank you."

As I enter this season of Thanksgiving, I'm committing myself to saying thank you more often. It reconnects me to the goodness of God, it's great for my insides, and it blesses others. It takes so little time and costs me nothing--that is unless I ever decide to actually write it out and send it in the mail!

What's That Smell?

2008-09-28T20:10:00.000-07:00

It was a BUSY day--one filled with a long string of appointments--but I wanted to be a responsible middle-aged woman and get in my gym time! So I dutifully went to the gym right before I had a Dr's appointment. My work out that day was especially beneficial and I really worked up a sweat. So, on my way to the Dr. I squirted a couple of shots of my favorite perfume on my neck so I would give off a more pleasant aroma. Wrong! Instead of smelling like a tropical paradise, I wreaked like body odor laced with coconut! AGHHHH! The only thing positive about this experience was that my honest confession to my doctor about why I smelled so bad made him laugh really hard. But he was probably glad when I was gone so he could air out the office.

Smells are interesting things. Bad smells are usually made from things that should be gotten rid of--trash, sweat, germs, food that's gone bad, etc. The odor doesn't go away until the source of the smell is removed. Even if you put a mountain of perfume on it.

I've been guilty of doing that spiritually sometimes--many times without even knowing it. I've sprayed on a happy Christian face while I still have pride or unforgiveness inside, and I'm sure anyone who was half-way discerning could detect the stinkiness I was trying to mask. The stench didn't go away until the source of my pride and unforgiveness was taken care of.

On the positive side of this smelly issue is the fact that we can also emanate a pleasant odor when we are clean. Scientists tell us that the sense of smell is one of the most powerful in building memories and establishing them. You pass by someone wearing a certain perfume and suddenly you remember your grandmother, because she used to wear the same scent. The smell of turkey roasting in the oven takes a person back to pleasant Thanksgiving meals with their loved ones.

I'm trying hard to regularly take inventory of the stuff I carry inside of me and get rid of the smelly things. Sometimes that's easy and sometimes it's not. In the places where I struggle I need God to help me release those things--sometimes gradually, to Him. It's His forgiveness that makes me clean. No matter how dirty or filthy my issues are, He's happy to take them and fill the empty places with more of His essence.

I remember as a little girl that sometimes before my Dad left for work he would give my sister and I a hug and kiss. After he left I loved it because I still could smell his after shave on my skin. I guess we smell like the things we embrace.

As I spend time embracing my Heavenly Father, I want more of Him to rub off on me so that when people encounter me, they are reminded of Jesus.

Entrances and Exits

2008-09-01T19:02:00.000-07:00

I've always been fascinated by hospitals and airports. It sounds random , I know, but I think I've figured out their common attraction for me. They are both places where people are making entrances and exits. Both are usually vulnerable times of change when deep things--good or bad--can happen inside of a person.

I've been going through a lot of entrances and exits in my own life the last couple of years--mainly in my family. I remember 3 years ago at Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday, when my husband announced to me that it would probably be the last time our family all celebrated together because of the ages of our children. My heart sank. He was right. Our oldest daughter was getting married and our next daughter was starting college. Even though we still had two younger children who would be at home for several years, I had to get used to the idea that everyone being present for holidays wasn't a sure thing anymore.

Although a lot of the releasing I've done in my mothering the last few years has been with a heavy heart to begin with, I'm finding that each exit brings new entrances with it. Exit: My daughter gets married. Entrance: I gain a fabulous son-in-law who makes our family so much fun. Exit: My second daughter leaves home for college. Entrance: A new dimension to our relationship where we sneak away to do lunch sometimes, or chat over a cup of coffee. With every successful release there is a growing appreciation and sense of awe at how faithful God is to help me and my husband raise healthy adult children. I'm getting more comfortable with the rhythm of children coming and going. I am excited for them as they go out to experience new jobs, new places, etc. and I am equally as thrilled when they visit home to tell me all about it.

I guess our home has become more like a landing strip for our older children. They've taken off in a sense, but they make regular return visits.

As I've watched my children fly after their high aspirations I find that I am also inspired to pick back up some of my own deferred dreams. Seeing their courage to face life inspires me to want to do the same in certain areas of my own life. My kids cheer me on in these areas and tell me they are proud of me when I take a risk. Once again, I marvel at the wonderful irony. Somehow these precious children who I'm learning to release are the very ones who are helping to release me into the next chapter of my life!

So fly, Hannah! Fly, Abby! You go, girls! I'm right behind you!

One Dirty Sock

2008-08-07T20:31:00.000-07:00

I am NOT a neat freak--ask my family, shoot, come over and see for yourself! I do, however, love the idea of using something over again. Recycling makes my heart happy. I'm excited that a pop can's life isn't over once it's empty--it can be cleaned up and fashioned into another new can or even something else!

I've always been this way--in case you were starting to think I should just take a pill for this or something. I remember when I was just about 7 years old I found one dirty sock out in the back yard. It had been left behind by a construction worker. I was thrilled. I thought about how gorgeous this sock was going to look when it was washed. I went inside and put the sock in the washing machine with an ample amount of soap and turned it on to wash all by itself. When my Mom came in later and discovered the washing machine going she asked me what was going on. I explained my wonderful story to her and she wisely didn't blow up at me. (Thanks, Mom.) She kept her cool and explained that next time I should save the dirty sock and put it in with other dirty clothes as well so that it didn't waste so much water.

I think God loves recycling too. He's a pro at giving things a second chance. Lots of the words we use for God start with the letters RE which mean "to do again"--REdeemer, REstorer, REbuilder, REconciler etc. There is a scene in the movie The Passion of the Christ when Jesus is carrying His cross to be crucified and is almost unrecognizable from the beatings He's suffered. On His journey He trips and falls and his mother, Mary, rushes to help him up. She is mortified by the way her Son looks and the way He is suffering. As she looks at him with concern and grief, Jesus says to her, "Behold, I make all things new."

The reality that Jesus went through such torture and death so that I could be made new leaves me absolutely undone. How can such love be grasped and understood? How can I ever say a big enough thank you for such a thing?

I think my childish act with the lone dirty sock shows a primitive understanding of how lavishly God loves. He sees the things that are dirty and worn, but He picks them up knowing that the wondrous work of His cleansing power can make them clean and useful again. Even if there's just one who is willing to take Him up on this offer--it's worth it to Him. It's not a waste!

Thank you, Jesus, for paying a huge price so that I can be made new.

2008-07-24T13:43:00.000-07:00

Call Me Sequoia

2008-07-24T12:33:00.000-07:00

I just celebrated my father-in-law's 75th birthday by driving with the whole family (2 van loads) to as many National Parks as we could in a 10 day period. It's one of those experiences that I'm sure will be more precious to me the further away I get from it! That sounds like an insult, but I don't mean it that way. Some experiences are more understood when I am able to stand back and see the bigger picture. As my life moves forward I am able to see their beauty and value in way I couldn't when I was "in the moment".

I thought a lot about that as I observed the vast beauty at so many National Parks: Yellowstone, Zion National Park, The Grand Canyon, Sequoia National Forest, Crater Lake. As I tried to take as much in as I could in these places, by the end of the trip I saw some characteristics that were common to all the these marvelous places:

1. At every place, some event that was big and catastophic had happened sometime in the distant past: A fire, an earthquake, erosion, a volcano, etc. The marks of these events were still evident, and were responsible for part of the beauty that was present.

2. Wherever we went, there were people from all over the world excited to view the beauty in these places. No one needed a translator--their eyes were all they needed.

3. All of these places are natural wonders--man didn't make any of them. They've all been around for a long time. Their beauty endures as time marches on.

Probably my greatest inspiration came from going to see the Giant Sequoias. The valley below this forest is basically a desert. It looks like there could be nothing anywhere near that was big and beautiful. But up above at 8,000-10,000 feet there are huge Sequoias. The largest tree in the world lives there. I found out that Sequoias take root best in a place where there has been complete destruction. They grow really well in ashes from a forest fire. They often grow in small groups because of how the seeds land when trees fall over. They are very resilient to harsh conditions and live for hundreds of years.

I want to be like a Giant Sequoia. When life is dry, I need to seek a higher spiritual place. I need to remember that the soil of destruction can be the perfect place for the seeds of some big, wonderful things to grow. I need to remember that it works best to grow with a group. It makes everyone stronger and more able to withstand the harsh conditons that life sometimes brings.I want the beauty of my life to endure, to remain, to inspire people--often without words--to consider that there is something, Someone bigger than they are who can mold something amazing out of the good, the bad, and the ugly in their life.

Right now, in the moment it doesn't feel like much is happening--it's just another place where I'll have to wait in faith until I get further out and can catch a glimpse of "the bigger picture".

I'm Hooked!

2008-07-14T13:24:00.000-07:00

I'm basically a shy person who absolutely loves people. Sometimes that works against me--like this weekend. After completing an intensive class on biblically interpreting dreams--which is usually a process that I do in private at my computer--the class was sent out in teams to the mall and different Starbucks locations to ask people if we could practice interpreting their dreams. It wasn't the interpreting that scared me--it was approaching random strangers--it was the potential rejection. The introvert inside of me longed to escape, but the desire to find if this could really reach people with God's love pulled harder.

There waiting on a mall bench was a Hispanic grandmother and her daughter. As my team approached them, the daughter answered her cell phone. That made grandma our target. We told her we had just completed a class in dream interpretation and asked her if we could practice interpreting one of her dreams. "After a certain age, I stopped dreaming," she quipped. After we urged her a bit further, she admitted that she had had a recurring dream for a while after her husband's death from a stroke. The dream in a nutshell was her deceased husband standing healthy and smiling beside a car with the door open as though he was waiting for her to get in.

"I think I know what that means." I said. She looked at me with interest. "This message is from God to show you that your husband is well in the place where he has gone before you. The invitation is open for you to join him in that place when it's the right time. But since you're still here, that means you still have things that God wants to finish in your life. That includes some of those dreams you've let go of. Don't be afraid to keeping dreaming!"

The grandma's eyes were filled with tears. So were ours. "Thank you so much, girls." She said. "Thank YOU!" we all chimed in. She had no idea how much I was grateful for her warm response. Somehow in the process of looking for people I could reel in for a free dream interpretation, I was the one who got hooked! Not one person during the whole day turned us down. Some people admitted they didn't remember any dreams, but for them we gave them a free encouraging word. It was amazing how people just melted when they were given a kind word that pointed them toward their destiny.

Henry Ward Beecher said that you'll never know how accessible men are until you try to reach them. You just have to find the right door. In today's society it seems that dream interpretation is one of those doors. It's made this shy wallflower willing to comb the malls and coffee shops. I'm a believer!