Faithful Word

The Word Is always at work

   Desperate emotions and feelings of helplessness ran through me as I sat on the edge of my bed. The phone in one hand and my Bible beside me, I listened to the frustrated cry of my dear friend, describing yet another miserable situation she found herself in. I could hear the hopelessness in her voice as she sobbed and told me her story, one more time. It was the same story being repeated time and time again. Marriage complications, money problems, sick children and unhappiness plagued her daily, it seemed her life was on a constant, bitter loop and someone kept pushing the replay button.

   Scripture after scripture ran through my head but I still had no idea what to say. I mentally pleaded with God, asking for anything, just a little something new to say to help her feel hopeful again. All I could hear were the same old scriptures we had talked about over and over again.

   I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t do it. My advice sounded redundant, dry and futile, I couldn’t give her the hope she needed. To be honest, I felt just as bleak as her and for one fleeting moment, I wondered if God had closed his ears to her suffering. I didn’t understand why her life was so miserable. All I could say was, I was sorry and I didn’t understand it myself. I felt like a failure. Awkward silence hung in the air and we made light chitchat for another few minutes before saying our goodbyes.

   After hanging up the phone I sat tearfully on my bed feeling empty as I let the past ten years of our friendship run through my mind. Years of laughter and fun, stained with tragic heartache in every memory. I whispered a question knowing that the only one that could hear was God. “Why do some people seem to suffer more than others? When will she see things turn around in her life?”

   Gently and quietly I heard a whisper, or was it just a thought? “A righteous man may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all.”   “Ok”, I thought.” I get it, but sometimes life’s problems seem unbearable and the ending nowhere in sight.”

   “Trust me with all your heart, not on what you think you understand; in all your ways acknowledge me and I will make your paths straight.” These words felt like melted butter on warm toast, filling every crevice of doubt that lingered in my heart. I felt a surety that everything would be ok and that my friend was not at the bottom of a list somewhere but loved and cherished. I was sure that God was working quietly behind the troubling circumstances, nurturing his child and making her more like him.

      “How can I help fix this Lord?” was the question that rolled around my brain. I decided to leave it for the night and catch up with her the next day. (I was sure that she probably didn’t notice the concern that came from my end of the conversation.) She had heard me quote those scriptures before, so my hope was that she would remember each one and we would carry on like usual.

   It would be two whole months before I heard from her again. Things were a little better but stress still hung close, hiding behind girlfriend chatter of recent trips, new churches and life changes. After about a year of sporadic lunch dates I noticed a change, God had been at work the whole time and I was just being a friend.

   I remember sitting across the table when she tearfully and thankfully told me how she finally felt like God had turned her life around. I was so excited for her and her new hopeful outlook.

 I am grateful for a loving father that could take a life so broken and without hope and turn that life around, implanting optimistic expectancy and joy. Imagine that, God was able to turn her life around for the good all without my plans or strategies.

   I am reminded of Moses when faced with war against the Amalekites. The Amalekites where a nomadic tribe that had no fear of God and made it their life purpose to destroy the Jews, who they hated. They were there, continuously at Israel’s heals, cutting them off and attacking the stragglers which would have been the elderly, women and children. They were a constant threat to the safety and peace of God’s people.

   As Israel went to war, Moses stood on a mountain, holding his arms up to God. Aaron and Hur stood by his side as they watched the battle rage down below. As long as Moses held his arms up their enemies were being defeated. After a while Moses got tired, when he let his arms hang down the Amalekites started to defeat Israel. Aaron and Hur, seeing the Amalekites gaining and noticing how exhausted Moses was, jumped to action. They brought Moses a stone to rest on and they each grabbed an arm and lifted them up. Aaron and Hur supported Moses when he needed them most and could no longer do it in his own strength. They didn’t have to figure things out or plan a strategy, they just supported Moses and gave him a place to rest his weary self, and God did the rest. The battle was won that day, God brought victory to the Israelites.

  I lost sight of the bigness of God that day. I allowed circumstances to alter what I knew to be true, the Word of God. It wasn’t my job to fix her problems; that responsibility belongs to the great healer, who loves us beyond measure. All I needed to do was to be there, to encourage her and to hold her arms up as she faced exhaustion in the midst of her battle.

   We don’t always understand the “why”, but we can rest in knowing that God has the “how” and is completely able to save.

 

Blood shot eyes and things that go bump in the night.

Blood-Shot Eyes and Things That Go Bump in the Night.

   Somewhere between sleep and awake was when I first heard it, you know, that place where everything is in slow-motion and you’re not sure what is real and what is a dream. It was dark and I prodded my sleepy brain awake to see if I would hear it again. My skin prickled and I shivered as the sound of footsteps pass where I lay. I quickly threw the covers over my head and arranged a small peek hole so I could see what was going on.

   When I looked out of the small opening I was horrified! There staring right back at me was an enormous, bloodshot eye. I clamped my eyes shut and remained still as a rock in hopes the creature would not see me there. I heard the soft shooshing sound of the back sliding door open and close, and then all was quiet.

    As I lay there my imagination ran wild. What was that? What evil could possibly be stalking our house in the middle of the night? Next time I will keep my eyes closed so they can’t read my mind, or worse, take over my body! I barely survived!

   I’m sure we all have stories like this from childhood. When we enter adulthood, those imaginary eyes and frightening sounds come in different forms. Thoughts and uncertainties persistently plague our minds and make our lives miserable.

   Worry enters our mind as freely as wind, mixing with bad memories and hidden phobias.  Fear of sickness and diseases, thoughts of panic for our children or spouses safety, worries that we won’t have enough money consume our thoughts and make our stomachs churn with acid.

“A thought may seem harmless, but if it becomes toxic, it can become physically, emotionally or spiritually dangerous.  Every time you have a thought, it is actively changing your brain and your body- for better or for worse.” Dr. Caroline Leaf Ph.D.

“Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for the good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Summing it all up, my friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious- the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.”  Philippians 4:7, 8 (MSG)

   Changing my thought patterns from toxic and rerouting them to the truth of the word can be tricky and take dedication.

   It’s easy to stay in my familiar rut and become a casualty of my emotions. Commanding my brain to do the unusual takes effort, climbing out of that negative pit requires calculated foot work; peace, wholeness and health are my motivators.

   After complaining to my mother multiple times she finally stayed up to see what was going on. It seems one of my brothers was sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night to take a joy ride in my oldest brother’s new truck. She sat hidden in a corner and watched him leave; he didn’t even pause to look through my peek hole with his giant blood shot eye.

   When the truth was brought to light by my mom, my fears melted; the realization that those silly sounds couldn’t hurt me had me sleeping peacefully. Of course it was a while before my brother had peace.  

   Using God’s word as my guide I can practice throwing those concerns on the one who truly makes everything work for my good. After a while I can see those fears for what they really are; exaggerated imaginations and scare tactics, keeping me frozen in fear and defeat.

Stupid decisions and sticky situations.

He Found Me in the Desert.

   Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!  Panic turned my mouth dry and my heart collided with my stomach. Familiar buildings zoomed by and soon I was lost in an unfamiliar area of town. I just knew I was dead or at least I was going to be a victim of rape. I had no plan of escape and terror paralyzed me.

  

  What do I do? What can I say? No one had prepared me for this, there were no talks of stranger danger or how to protect myself, and I was an ignorant victim.

   

  The smell of old cologne and cigarettes are still vivid memories, I can still see his slicked back red hair and his brown corduroy jacket. I can recall his little brown MG car and where he was standing when I first saw him that day, even after forty years.

    

  It’s funny how fear will emblazon a memory in your mind. I was almost thirteen and had just gotten off the greyhound bus headed to my best friends for a weekend of skating and meeting up with our boyfriends.  

  

  As I left the bus station I looked around for the local transit bus to finish my journey. Never being one that knows a stranger, I approached a nicely dressed man on the street and asked him for the time. He asked where I was going and I happily obliged him with all my fun weekend plans. Oh, I’m sure by now you are wondering what kind of idiot I was, but wait, it even gets better.

   

  

  After telling me I had just missed my bus he gallantly volunteered to take me to my destination. Yes, I did it, I got into his car and we were off. I have to admit I felt a few pangs of alarm but I dismissed them because, after all, he presented himself as an upstanding citizen, concerned for my safety.

  Once we were in route he asked me multiple inappropriate questions. At first I was perplexed and thought maybe this was a joke but when he ignored my directions and we were traveling the opposite way, I knew I was in real trouble.

   He made a stop at a fast food restaurant and asked if I was hungry, of course I told him no but he went in anyway and brought out an extra order for me. In case you are wondering, yes I sat in the car and missed my escape.

  Reaching in the back seat, he produced two bottles of beer and offered me one. I refused and told him my friend would worry if I didn’t get there soon. That’s when his devilish plan was finally realized. As he leaned towards me I gave out a little scream and opened the car door.

   By now you are probably thinking that I took off running and got help, right? Sadly no, at his promise to take me to my friends, I got back in the car. This is where I kick myself; it’s hard for me to believe it, even now.

  He did eventually drop me off unharmed and I walked into my friend’s house as he sped off down the road. Bawling, I told everything to my friend’s mom and she scolded me on the dangers of hitch hiking.

   Before you judge me and think I was one of the most brainless girls on the planet, (I often think that myself), in my defense I was twelve and was never taught stranger safety before this. My brothers often hitch hiked and my mom frequently picked strangers up. We even hosted people in our home, most of them we really didn’t know very well.

   This is not the end of the story. Later that evening, while skating with my friends, I happened to notice the same man sitting at a table in a dark corner, watching my every move. He quickly raced out the door when he saw me point him out to the rink owner. The memory still makes me shudder.

   When I think of all my near misses and narrow escapes, I am humbled. Time and time again God has lovingly rescued me. Stupid decisions and just plain rebellious living has put me in some sticky situations to say the least. How often have I swiped my brow with the back of my hand only then to realize God’s all encompassing hand on my life?

   Jeremiah 31:2-3 says this, “This is the way God put it: They found grace out in the desert, these people who survived the killing. Israel, out looking for a place to rest, met God out looking for them!” God told them, “I’ve never quit loving you and never will. Expect love, love and more love!” (MSG)

  Oh how I love this verse!  Many times when I make mistakes and suffer consequences, I think I just got what I deserve. Thank you Father that there is grace in the desert. Thank you that I am valuable to you and you are out looking for me, even when I am distracted.

  We all have memories that point their fingers at us from the dark corners and say, “This is your fault, you brought it on yourself now you have to pay. You are not fit to be loved or forgiven.”

  If you are out looking for that place to rest, just know that your heavenly Father has never given up the search for you and will never stop loving you. Point your finger right back at those accusing thoughts and don’t allow them to keep you wandering in the wasteland.

   Expect love, love and more love. He’s our Father, He loves us, that’s what He does.

Mind-mind your manners

Mind-Mind Your Manners!

   I squinted at the sun as I looked through the car window. Looking up to the towers I wondered what exactly the guards could see from their perch. To me they looked like menacing statues dressed in brown and wearing sunglasses. It was like a scene from a movie and my stomach churned inside me. After signing in and a short interrogation we joined the other families waiting in line. This large room was painted white and had marble floors, it always felt cold. There were a few benches against the walls and right in the middle of the room sat an enormous half circle desk that seated three or four officers.

   I hated this place; I hated the drive down the long driveway even though it was lined with maple trees. I despised the towers and all the scary, ominous feelings that came with them. The razor wire that curled at the top of the tall chain link fences made me feel small and defenseless. It was as if at any moment I could be a victim of something horrible. It didn’t help that I also detested the person that we were there to see.

As we waited I would watch small children running and playing, their laughter echoed across the room. How could they be so happy? They had no idea where they were and I realized that this was just a way of life for them. They were visiting daddy or their mom’s new boyfriend; to them, this trip meant fun in the playroom and a few prizes from the vending machine.

After a short wait the great iron barred doors would loudly clang open which startled me every time. We would all file in as a group, once we were all in one section a loud buzzer sounded and the doors would bang shut, and panic would race through my gut, I felt trapped. When the iron doors in front of us would whir open, we would clustered into the next chamber and wait for the doors to shut behind us, swallowing us inside. It was cool and the cinder block walls were a faded yellow. Guards stood sentinel while inmates where mopping floors or doing other odd jobs.

 Once I entered the visiting room the smoke from at least fifty cigarettes choked me and burned my eyes. Men in blue jeans and baby blue shirts sat on hard plastic chairs waiting to see their families. The room had the feel of fear, hopelessness and anger. All I wanted to do was run but there was nowhere to go. Everywhere I sat men watched me, I could see them talking with their family members but I knew they watched me and I felt like a mouse in a room full of hungry cats.

   I was a young teenager and we would visit my mom’s newly imprisoned husband weekly. I felt he was the cause of all our troubles. When he entered our lives it seemed our family shattered into a million pieces and this started a period of abuse for me over the next three years. It was probably the most frightening and unsettling time of my life. If I think on it too long I can still sense the feelings of misery and hopelessness.

Psalm 138:7 & 8 says, “When I walk into the thick of trouble, keep me alive in the angry turmoil. With one hand strike my foes, with your other hand save me. Finish what you started in me, God. Your love is eternal- don’t quit on me now.” (MSG)

We have all had our share of wretchedness in this life. It only takes me a moment to find someone who has had it a lot worse than me. Sometimes it’s actual and sometimes it’s a matter of perception, but whatever the circumstances the memories can be oppressive and incapacitating.

When I was fifteen I found a scripture that helped me profoundly. I soon had it memorized and began putting it to practice.

Philippians 4:6-9 says, “Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious- the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice things you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.” (MSG)

   I have a million horrible memories and there were scores of times where, as a child, my very life was in danger because of someone else’s behavior. The hardest yet most rewarding challenge I have ever met was to change my thought life and get past the devastating consequences those memories had on me, both physically and mentally.

This is hard work; I have to make the effort to change my thought life every day, I have to remind myself of the life changing scriptures I have memorized and I choose to believe them. I will always have those memories and life will villainously add to them, but I am determined that they will have no power over me, they will not define me.

Galatians 5:1 says, “Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your stand! Never again let anyone put a harness of slavery on you.” (MSG)

  We can’t choose our beginnings; no child wants to be poor, neglected or abused. Sin and its influences are all around us raining down defeat and misery; it convinces us that there is no hope in life, only a pitiful existence and eventually death. But that is a lie; there is great hope and freedom tastes sweet; they come in the person of Jesus and all he has unselfishly done for me and you, no matter where our journey has taken us.

Thanks for the help Laughing Boy!

The Crash and Burn

   “I’ve got this, it’s a cinch. I don’t need a safety tether or a “dummy leash” as they call it in the gym.” With confidence I climbed aboard the treadmill and with the touch of a button I set the belt in motion. 

   As I walked, I tried to keep pace with my long legged brother who was on the treadmill next to mine.  We chatted about life and it felt good to get the heart pumping.  All it took was one little trip and that treadmill spit me off and left me in a crumpled heap on the floor. Of course the belt kept going since I had refused to use the tether and my leg got caught under the machine.

   I was so embarrassed! I was sure everyone had seen the large woman in the baggy black sweats get ejected, slick as a watermelon seed in a country fair, spitting contest.  As I pulled my wounded leg from underneath the belt I looked around and was surprised that not one person missed a beat in their routine. It was as if I were invisible. The only one who paid any attention was my brother who was laughing so hard he nearly followed my disastrous example. Humiliated and bruised I climbed back on the walking pad and connected the safety leash to my sweat shirt.

   Fear of failure keeps us from progress in our lives but there is a forever hope of victory.

Philippians 1:6 says, “I am sure about this: the one who started a good work in you will stay with you to complete the job by the day of Christ Jesus.” (CEB)

 I make bad decisions more often than I care to admit. I get in a hurry or feel like I know what is best, that is when I end up a twisted mess and feel like a failure. Getting back up on my feet and continuing the journey only makes me stronger.

Romans 8: 29- 34 says, “God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After calling them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun. So what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God’s chosen? Who would dare even point a finger? The one who died for us- who was raised to life for us, is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us.” (MSG)

    Yes, I just failed in front of everyone. I’m sure I looked absolutely ridiculous, but I would bet my black sweat pants that every one of them has spent a little time on the floor and knows the pain of walking on the treadmill of life. Often times, even my everyday existence is painful but, unlike the gym members or laughing boy on the treadmill next to me, God has set me on a “solid basis with himself” and is there to help me up.

    Did you know that He is your help and is cheering you on to accomplishment? He is not surprised by our failures but stays with us, helping us to stand up and continue walking toward happy success. Don’t worry about what people are thinking, pick yourself up and get back on that treadmill. God is on your side, how could you possibly lose?

Have a Babylonian New Year?

New Year’s Resolution or My Plan to Fail

   This is my least favorite time of year. The weather is cold and dreary, the trees are all bare and gloomy, Christmas is over and the nearest holiday is Easter. Now I feel the need to make decisions about the New Year. I am overcome with frustration.  The feelings of dread and failure have already set in and I haven’t even decided what my new resolutions will be.

   Here’s a little resolution history; the New Year’s resolution dates back to pre-Christian times. It was actually begun by the Babylonians and took place in March. This was a time that everyone resolved to return borrowed objects and pay their bills, hmm, sounds easy enough to me. Then along came the Romans who moved it to January in honor of their god Janus. Janus looked forward to the new and backward to the old. The Puritans came along and took it to another level. They decided this was a time to contemplate the future and not look back. To commit to put their talents to better use, treat their neighbors with charity and avoid habitual sins. Still not too bad, that feels achievable.

   Somewhere in time things went a little screwy and the whole “use your talents, pay your bills, treat your neighbors with charity and avoid habitual sins,” thing entered  a self improvement competition.  Statistics show that thirty five percent of people make unrealistic goals, thirty three percent don’t keep track of them and twenty three forget the goals even exist; I fall in with the twenty three percent. My “no sugar, lose weight” decision is completely forgotten when I see the left over chocolate cake on New Year’s Day. Only eight percent of people successfully keep those goals year round. That means ninety two percent of people fail; sadly I am counted among the feeble masses. One article I read suggested that I “aim low” that way I would actually reach my goal and feel the thrill of accomplishment, does getting out of bed and eating three meals a day count?

   Listed in the history of my own failed attempts are these; be more kind to others, eat less sugar, cut out caffeine, (no caffeine and no sugar cancels out any chance of being more kind to others so beware), lose weight, write every day, be more organized, read the Bible all the way through (sometimes I feel accomplished if I read it once a week) and learn a new language (slang or fun accents do not count). This is my sorry little “ninety two percent” list.

   This year I decided to run things a little differently.

Galatians 6:9 says, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Job 22:28 says’ “what you decide on will be done, and light will shine on your ways.”

Philippians 4:13 says, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”

   I re-evaluate my list and place it before my only hope of being part of the eight percent, Jesus.

 You see, it's not a list but a life that is really at stake here. Every day I face failures and unmet goals. These so called blunders gnaw at my self worth and call me names like lazy, stupid or undisciplined. I end up comparing myself with those I believe to be successful champions and I give up altogether.

   I am so thankful for scriptures like Proverbs 16:9 (In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.) and Isaiah 28: 26 (His God instructs him and teaches him the right way.) 

   I rest confidently knowing it’s not all on my shoulders. His path is  best for me and when I choose it he provides the strength that I need to gradually build success in that area. There is a path of triumph and when I draw my strength and wisdom from him, I am victorious.

   What are your resolutions for the year? Are you willing to place them before the Lord and walk in his direction? His ways aren’t always the path we would naturally choose, but in them there are always strength, progress and fulfillment.  

Choosing the high road

Salt or Assault, a Retail Story

   “Hey-you, do you have a Kermit the frog?”

I could tell by the impatient tone in the man’s voice that he needed immediate attention. As I looked up from the cash register, I was surprised to see a short, middle aged man with gray hair that hung in messy curls around his round wire rimmed glasses. Nestled against his green army coat was a Perry the Platypus stuffed animal under his arm. I greeted him with the usual retail smile and told him I would check. 

   When I found the shelf empty, I returned to let my eager customer know. His reaction caught me completely off guard; he threw Perry at me and called me a few unpleasant names. I just stared at him, confused and angry. As my face grew hot and my ears turned bright red, I snapped.

   Speaking sharply through clenched teeth I read him the riot act, “Look here you little gray haired munchkin, besides needing a lesson in manners you need to get your values straight! It’s a stuffed animal and I refuse to put up with cretins like you for a measly nine bucks an hour!”

   As I screamed at him, tiny drops of spit landed on his “John Lennon want-to-be glasses, forming irritating beads. I reached across the counter, plucked those glasses from his face and broke them in half. Shoving the crumpled glasses in his hands I wished him a good day and left him standing with his mouth gaping wide open.

Okay, dream sequence over.

   In reality I picked Perry off the floor, dusting him off I handed him back to the man. I politely excused myself telling him I would search the back room and was happy to deliver Kermit into his hands.

Matthew 5:13-16 says, “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled on by men.

You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” (NIV)

   In this crazy, mean world there are many occurrences that can make me lose my appealing flavor. Rude people or bad circumstances can make me jump right off that light stand and run for the nearest bush to hide under. It feels natural for me to stand up for my rights and refuse to be treated badly, but Jesus calls me to a higher, more loving standard. He even goes as far as telling me to love my enemies and pray for those that persecute me.

    Hmmm, persecute?! Strong’s concordance says persecute means to systematically oppress or harass a person or group. This has negative reaction written all over it.

   I know it’s hard and seems unfair, Colossians 4:5 and 6 offers a bit of practical help to get us there.

“Use your heads as you live and work among outsiders. Don’t miss a trick. Make the most of every opportunity. Be gracious in your speech. The goal is to bring out the best in others in a conversation, not put them down, and not cut them out.” (MSG)

   Choosing to be salt and light is hardly easy, but I must make the active choice to be different from the rest of the world. That’s why it is so noticeable, it is rare and refreshing. Love, patience and kindness stands out like a beacon. Choosing to climb that hill and shine for all to see brings glory to our Father and ultimately makes our life better.

 

 

You Are One Body, treat it right.

You Are One Body, Treat it Right

     “Oh great, they’re coming my way.” The feeling of dread overtakes me and my stomach is in knots. I look around for an easy escape, an unlocked door to duck into or a conversation with an unsuspecting passerby, anything that will get me out of the line of fire. Have you ever felt this way? I cringe to think of how many people I might have hurt on my quest to help them become “better people”. Sadly, my own children have been victims of my frustrations with imperfection and have suffered the sting of sarcasm.

   Why do we get impatient and hurt those we are called to love? A careless word, an unkind look or even the lack of acknowledgement can send someone on a downward spiral. I once had a lady accuse me of purposely enticing the men of the church; I was twelve years old and so embarrassed that it took me two years to step into any church again. I couldn’t help it that I was an early developer, I didn’t ask for this body. Little did she realize that since the time I was four years old sexual abuse was just a part of  "normal" life and my only hope of a safe haven was ripped away with her words.

Ephesians 4: 2, 3, 15, 16 says, “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. (vs. 2, 3)  Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.”(vs. 15, 16)

   It's like  when I needed shoulder surgery. I had a nasty bone spur that cut a tendon in two. This tendon was attached to a muscle that helped move my arm and once it was detached my arm lost mobility and strength. It took six weeks of not using that arm and another six weeks of careful physical therapy before I was able to use it properly. I didn’t realize how valuable it was until I no longer had its help. It was frustrating but I had to be patient. I had to wait for healing and keep strengthening that arm until it was strong enough to perform the task it was meant to do.

   Do you see where I am going here? When it comes to the body of Christ it is easy to become annoyed with others when they don’t measure up to our expectations. Impatient words, sarcasm or even an exasperated rolling of the eyes can stifle growth or reopen an injury. “Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.” If I can remember this, it just might help me to be more patient even if it feels like I am “bearing” (“to put up with, to endure.”) with that person for love’s sake. Composing myself and being gentle might not always be easy but it’s sure the way I would want people to deal with me. “From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.” This is who we are, supporting ligaments, and parts of a body that shield a hurt, strengthen a weakness and work for the benefit of the whole body not just for a single limb. With all the negative in this world, hurts should not come from our own body members. 

I wonder what change for the better my life would have taken if I had felt a part of a loving family? Time, patience, gentleness and love are never wasted. Eventually these produce healthy members that work together in the bond of peace.

No thanks, I'll pass

No Thanks, I’ll Pass

   Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to choose the hardships that come our way?  Wouldn’t we love to have an OPT-OUT button to push when difficulties cross our paths? A few things I would opt out of are the pinky toe- it is just in the way, serves no purpose and wreaks havoc on my socks. How about junk mail, how did they get my address in the first place? Don’t even get me started on armpit hair (what the heck?) and menopause would be a big “no thanks.” Sick children, bill collectors, argumentative spouses, long grocery lines and bumper to bumper traffic would all be rectified by that wonderful little button.

   We have all faced unpleasant circumstances, very often life can deal us a dirty hand and when the dust settles we are left standing there, beaten down and confused. I know, sometimes my troubles are a result of emotional decisions or simply not taking the time to think things through, but there are those times when crummy things happen and amazingly I didn’t have anything to do with it. This would be the perfect time to push that amazing button and let the troubles roll by as I smile and wave. Sadly this is not how life is.

Nahum1:7 says, “The Lord is good, a refuge in time of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him.”

Psalms 126:5, 6 says, “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him.”

   I love the example of the one sowing in tears or the one that goes out with seed to plant even though they are weeping. We often weather hard times and still have to continue on with life. Children still need fed, homes still need to be cleaned, and laundry doesn’t wash itself so we continue on in spite of the storm.

   The struggle is real but I am learning to trust God as my strength and help. Even if I’m weeping as I continue on, there is the hope of joy and peace that comes with knowing God is good, he has the solution and he cares for me.

    Instead of the imaginary opt out button; we have a perfect loving father that is able and willing to be our help and refuge. When we put our trust in him we are somehow able to survive those difficult situations and come out on the other side singing, or at least wiping our brow, glad to be alive.

Welcome to my world, look at it mocking me.

Let me bend your ear

Talk, talk, talk

   “Hmmm, can I tell her now? Wait; is this a good time to tell her? Man, this is torture!” these were my thoughts as I stood in the bank line for twenty minutes, just waiting for an opportunity to tell a story to my poor unsuspecting teller. She was working hard on an important job for me, interrupting her just to tell a story could result in a financial failure that I didn’t want to explain to my husband. So, I kept my mouth shut. It was an excruciating twenty minutes. I even checked out the guy in line next to me to see if he would be a willing listener, he was clearly not interested in anything I had to say. I left the bank with a job well done but I felt a bit deflated, I had some really great stories and she totally missed out.

   Have you ever heard the nineteen-sixties song by Frankie Ford, You Talk Too Much? It starts with a verse that says “You talk too much you worry me to death, you talk too much you even worry my pets, you just taaalllkk, talk too much.” It’s in your head now isn’t it? This song pretty much describes my personality.

   Being an extrovert and loving the art of a one sided conversation, I view people as potential listeners where ever I go. Don’t worry, if you can’t think of anything to say, I will rescue you. Really all you have to do is sit back and listen to my stories. If you’ve already heard it, no problem, it promises to get better each time I tell it. No person is safe, no place is off limits; grocery lines, sample tables, laundromats, even bathroom stalls are not taboo.

    My only frustrations comes when I try to have a one sided conversation with another extrovert, “excuse me, I was still talking and you rudely interrupted.”  Also those people that clearly lack listening skills and are easily distracted by things like, their kids, other people, house fires, bank robberies and other unimportant happenings.

1 Corinthians 13:1 says, “If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God’s word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything as plain as day, and if I have faith to say to a mountain, “jump,” and it jumps, but don’t love, I’m nothing.”

   In my quest to put others first I am slowly making progress. Allowing people to interrupt me and then wait for them to invite me to finish what I was saying has been a very hard mountain to conquer.  Walking away without reciting at least two gripping stories leaves me unsatisfied, but I need to keep in mind that others may have something to say and maybe they aren’t as out spoken as I am.

   It’s amazing what I learn when I do one simple thing, listen. I’m not saying that being an extravert is bad; knowing great stories and having the ability to deliver them successfully is a gift. If I don’t take the time to listen to others then I miss out on how truly unique that person is. How can I possibly know if a person is hurting, lonely, in need of a friend or even what their favorite color is if I continue to be the “creaking of a rusty gate?” It’s a matter of preferring others and it isn’t always easy.

   So, as I learn to put others first and muzzle my mouth a bit don’t worry, nothing is wrong, I am just choosing to hear about you for once.

AND because I just couldn't resist.

Bubble wrap is for sissies

Like Riding a Bike

   Wind in their faces and sun on their backs, weaving through traffic and jumping off curbs. Some are hunched over with the look of competitive determination and others sit up straight seeming to not have a care in the world. Bicycling, I watch and wonder if it is something I would enjoy but fear always follows that thought as I mentally count the cost.

   I have decided, several times, that I would like to ride a bike. It looks fun, its great exercise but I hadn’t been on a bike since I was carefree and thirteen.  

   Wanting to conquer my fears, I borrowed my brother’s bike and set a date to begin. Once I missed that date and shamefully a few more, I decided I had to get serious. I brought the bike out of the shop and carefully fitted the strap of my helmet for perfect comfort and optimum safety.  I wondered if I had erred in not purchasing any other kind of padding, bubble wrap came to mind. I was a bit shaky at first but I must admit that after riding in circles in my driveway for twenty minutes I felt confident enough to hit the open road.

   After leaving the security of my driveway it occurred to me that I had opened myself up to a plethora of possible hazards. What if my wheel came off and I was thrown over my handlebars? What if I was chased by someone’s angry dog or worse by the local cougar that occasionally visits the woods nearby? What about those huge storm grates on the side of the road, is it possible to fall in one? If I fall will I break a bone, I’ve never broken a bone, I’m pretty sure it hurts. Don’t even get me started on cavernous ditches and careless drivers.

   After wobbling down the road a ways something happened, I began to smile. Pedaling my way through the quiet streets, feeling the cool breeze on my face and the sun on my shoulders I found a sense of freedom and I felt thirteen again. Maneuvering sharp corners was a bit tricky and I took stock of every parked car so I didn’t become a casualty of an opening door. After about thirty minutes my only concern was whether my pants were properly pulled up on my backside so people didn’t get a free glance at my unmentionables.

   I am so glad that I took the time to try something new and I say to you happy cyclists around the world “I get it.” I get the feeling of freedom and accomplishment that comes from propelling yourself from one place to another, maneuvering through obstacles and successfully arriving alive. I don’t know, maybe I’m over thinking it but I am grateful when my tires hit the gravel in my driveway and I am home unharmed and refreshed.

Romans 15:13 says, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

   There are other things I have wanted to do but I admit I am sometimes fearful. I am afraid of failure. How can I be successful if I don’t try? Taking that first step can be scary but without it the journey will never begin? 

 Before climbing on that bike I prayed, eventually I decided to just give the fears to God. Trusting him leads to joy, peace and eventually success. If you have a dream, give it to God and step out in faith.

Shes not super attractive but she rides like the wind

Don't let the faux quilt work fool you, it is vengeful and vindictive.

Scary and may contain living creatures, just sayin.

The great crevasse, most of our ditches are like this. yikes

Not meant as a stopping device and may seem to jump out in front of you.

Do you see the little beads of fear sweat on my brow?

Grandparenting Is An Awesome Adventure

Weekend Fun

   My son-in-law turns forty this month and since he thinks that is very old he took his wife and met some good friends at the beach for the weekend. That meant Terry and I had the privilege of watching the grands.

   I was determined to make this a fun, adventurous weekend no matter how tired I felt . I started with the announcement that we would bring the mattresses and bedding downstairs and glamp in the livingroom. That started a land slide of books, stuffed animals and toys that came tumbling down the stairs, these were all necessary for a successful livingroom camp. 

This is what glamping in our house looks like.
Reading a good magazine before we settle in for the night is prime.

 This is the night I learned Livie is not so great at sleeping all night, I found that out around 2 a.m. and I ended up on the couch.

The next morning started out with a quick light saber duel in front of the Incinerator of Doom while watching a little Sponge Bob. It was 6:30 a.m.

A little workout with aunty Mel later that day, Connor was exercising his right to eat pepperoni.

That night we ate mac n cheese while they watched more sponge bob. This is usually forbidden when the mom and ancient dad are around.

After watching some quality nature TV (for you who were concerned about all the sponge bob) we practiced eating popcorn like a chameleon. 

Sunday we walked across the street to our awesome neighbor and bought plants for the garden. (They wouldn't actually touch them for fear of bugs)

Tomatoes and squash
we are ready to plant

We planted green beans and carrots, Livie put her beans in one at a time in a straight row,
Connor threw them in by the handfuls, this will be interesting.

At the end of the day we washed off the garden dirt in grandmas fun shower.
(Separately, That's important to know)

 

I braided her hair and she put it up like "princess leah"

   When the ancient man and his wife finally came home they were met with lots of hugs and the usual question, "where's my prize?" As the kids cleaned up all their mess at their mom's request you could here Livie say, "well the old mom's back."

   Terry and I were in bed by 8 pm that night.

Because laughter is truly the best medicine

The Left Handed Super Hero

I made my bed for the first time in three weeks and I felt like I could achieve anything.

   You see I had shoulder surgery on my right shoulder three weeks ago and I have been forced to use my left hand for everything.

   I went in to this journey with the attitude that it would be a piece of cake; I soon regretted the surgery as I was forced to enter the bizzaro world of the left handed.

   I had no idea how hard these left handers have it in our right handed society. Simple tasks like eating, writing and getting dressed all became messy challenges that made feeling like I was four years old. My morning routine was all messed up too, showering, toweling off and putting on under garments made me sweaty all over again. I can’t even begin to tell you how hard brushing my teeth became and trying to curl my hair has been a disaster; I have been reduced to curling it under like a Paige boy and I can’t help thinking I bear a striking resemblance to Little Lord Fauntleroy. Shaking someone’s left hand feels so awkward and people stare at you like you’re a freak.

   The commode is where this phenom’s super powers reach maximum ability and that is all I have to say on that subject. I have opted out of even trying to apply eye makeup because my eyes are irreplaceable.  Manipulating bra hooks are simply impossible. If you are a left handed woman my heart goes out to you, if you have mastered this feat go ahead and run for the Presidency because you can do anything. I have personally given up on this conquest and I only leave my house in dire emergencies.

   Sometimes I stare at my mere mortal right arm and wonder at the easy life I had when it was my friend. On an up note cooking and dishes have been forbidden entities because clearly only left handed marvels can do these single handedly.

   So if you are one of those left handed hero’s, my hat is off to you. Go out into the world with your head held high and shake opposite hands with confidence, eat out in a booth with boldness and click that seatbelt like a pro. Don’t worry that the majority of people are right handed, you are truly the gifted ones.

My right arm brace, it's like a slimmed down straight jacket. Like kryptonite it is my nemesis.

My beautiful made bed. Yes, I love pillows.

I decided to tuck my hair behind my ears, I didn't like looking like the ancient Monarchy.