The Annointing

No Announcements

Late one night, as my husband took our dogs on a walk around the neighborhood, he looked up and saw an enourmous spider's web strung between two trees.  Now when I say enourmous, I make no exaggeration...the web was over eight feet wide...unimaginable really, when you think of the size of most spiders in this part of the world.  The dew had fallen, and was hanging like strung crystals on strands of silk as they glistened against the blues of the moonlit sky.

He said it was the closest thing to a worship that he could imagine.  Just him...in the silence of the night...with a bejeweled spider web that no one else would see...except for him and God.  There was no well-selected set of songs to usher him into the throne room.  No worship band cranking out tunes...no half hour sermon on the beauty of nature...no scripture reading to give the special moment more significance.   Just him...and a spider's web...and the moon.

His heart melted within him as he considered the rarity of this moment...the spider spinning his web in glorious worship to the One who had created him to do just that...spin.  It was breath-takingly beautiful...stunningly simple...and yet, elegantly elaborate all at the same time.  He was transfixed on it...unable to look away.  Mesmerized by this most random occurance...and deeply blessed that he got to be the only human audience member for this grand spectacle.

As John stood there gazing, the odd thought struck him: 

"No one is rushing up to give announcements!" 

He quickly realized just how accustomed he'd become to experiencing moments just like this in church.  Those holy moments...when your entire being is laid open in adoring worship...only to be yanked back into reality by the "business" of doing church.  Announcements.  The "Welcome".  Dismissing the kids.  All necessary elements in conducting a service...but all to many times, ravaging to the soul that is caught up in worship.

There was no condemnation in his heart about the matter...just a simple realization that made him even more ardently appreciative of this unusual situation.  The truth was that he could take all the time he needed.  He could drink it in...there was no big rush.  He could stand there, with his heart wrapped up in that moonlit spider web all night long if he wanted to.  It was sheer bliss.

Even years after, he's still telling the tale of that magical night.  It left an indelible mark on his heart.  For one, it served as a beautiful reminder for him to look up and enjoy the beauty...no matter what menial task he might be engaged in.  And also, to let the simplest of things in God's creation inspire a profound sense of awe in his heart.

Reminders that we all can learn from...

Tent Pegs

Isaiah 54:2

"Enlarge the place of your tent,
stretch your tent curtains wide,
do not hold back;
lengthen your cords,
strengthen your stakes."

Wave Swept

Psalm 42:7

"Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls;

all your waves and breakers have swept over me."

Virtuoso

Wintry Chill

There are times when winter's chill sets in...our souls ache from the cold...our hearts mourn the barren landscape.  We long for the lengthy days, the vibrant colors and the sound of bird song. 

Will it ever come?

Will it be like this forever?

We languish at the brink of despair over thoughts of enduring the harshness of this season any longer.

Until...the sun peeks through a small gap in the treeline...and in that one glimmer, we place our full hope that Spring once again will come.

Song of Solomon 2:11-12

"See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.

Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.

God With Us

Light of the World

In Pursuit of Beauty

Variegation

In Earthen Vessels

2 Corinthians 4:7
"But we have this treasure in earthen vessels,
so that the surpassing greatness of the power
will be of God and not from ourselves"... 

Just recently I found out that a long-lost cousin of mine was a potter.  Not just a "go to the mall and paint pretty pictures on a piece of pottery" potter...but the real kind that starts from nothing but a block of clay, and winds up with a one-of-a kind vessel of beauty like the one in this painting.  Not just a weekend hobbyist, but an artist with a fully equipped studio in her basement!

It was such fun news for me to discover...and very quickly between us, there developed a joint appreciation for each other's art form.  I went to her website and fell in love with her stuff (www.potsogold.net)...she went to my event page and commented on the paintings found there...and even wound up buying some!  It was a common bond that came so unexpectedly after all these years...such fun to find out that your cousin is an artist, too!

I so enjoyed reading her back story...how she kind of fell into it (the mud, that is)...when her daughter brought home a class project to share.  Chris tells of something sparking inside of her...they took some classes together...and the rest is history.  It's so exciting for me to hear about other people's creativity cracking open...even more so when they're related to me!

 

I've held a long lasting love for this art form of ceramics...it's by far one of my all-time favorites.  The processes involved in ceramics hold such strong parallels to our faith walk:

First, there's the mixing of clay...where the new powder is mixed into a sludge that has been around for quite some time.  The old slip contains the necessary bacteria to create the crucial binding properties in the clay.  It's the aged part of the mix that holds it all together.  You put the sludge and the powder together into a pugging machine that blends it by pushing it through a series of blade wheels that cut and slice and grind it all into a uniform mix.

 

Once you've mixed your clay and separated a chuch of it from the batch, you introduce it to a pounding board.  On this board is strung a taut wire.  You draw the block of clay across the wire to split it in half and then slam each piece onto the board...over and over and over again.  This process removes air pockets from the clay...air pockets, that if not removed, would explode once temperatures began to rise during the firing.  Once you're satisfied that the air pockets have been removed, you can take the clay to the potter's wheel to mold it...or you can fabricate it by created slabs and shapes by hand.

The "throwing" process on the potter's wheel is a series of movements to get the clay firmly balanced and steady.  By applying strong pressure to the center of the lump of clay, pushing out with your thumbs and pulling up with your fingertips, you move the clay into a desired shape.  If it appears to be lopsided, or if an air pocket works its way out to the surface, or if any other abnormalities appear then you apply pressure from the top of the whole piece...taking it back down into a solid mound again.  This process can happen many times with a single piece...until the potter is confident that it is balanced, of uniform thickness throughout, and will successfully endure the heat of the kiln.

Once you create a good piece, you slice it off of the potter's wheel and let it sit on the shelf...for a while.  This process can be excruciatingly slow...the drying out period.  You've just thrown such a beautiful piece...and you're anxious to glaze it and put it into the fire.  But you mus wait for it to naturally dry a bit...to become what is called "greenware".  It transforms from a leathery wet surface, to dried and almost useable.  But at this stage, even though dried, the vessel could never hold water.  Introcuded to liquid at this stage, the vessel would begin to soften and melt back into the sludge-like state that it came from.

 

The next step is to dip or paint the green ware with glaze.  Specific mineral compounds are chosen for the color they produced when introduced to varying degrees of heat.  It can be tricky until you learn each compound's response to the heat...because what you dip it into is NOT what it will look like once the firing process is complete.  It comes out entirely different than when it goes in.  More vibrant.  More beautiful.

It's also not until the firing process is finished that a vessel can hold water.  It's the heat of the kiln that dries up even the chemically bound moisture...making the clay impervious to the influence of liquids from that point on. 

 

There are so many parallels to this process we call life...this journey we make within the Master's ceramic studio.  From sludge to worthy vessel...and all of the stages in between.  It makes the passage in 2 Corinthians 4:7 mean so much more when we have a grasp of the entire process.  A pot cannot put itself through any of the necessary stages of preparation.  It cannot hurry the process, or find a quick short cut.  It's impatience does not dictate any urgency on the actions made by the potter.  The potter is in complete control...not the clay...and he invests the priceless time, effort and patience required to transform that lump of clay into a beautiful, unique, useful vessel.

In the end, it is important that the greatness of our power be know to source from God, and not ourselves.  We are but an earthen vessel...full of impurities, weaknesses and flaws...and yet, He still chooses to use us...to fill us...that we may pour more of Him out on those around us.

An earthen vessel used to serve in the King's court...just how cool is THAT?!?!

Awaited Arrival

Between the bitter snaps of winter, we have some blissful respites that hint of spring. We have a hydrangea in near our front porch that lost all of it's leaves in the ice storm last week...but oddly enough has now sprouted new leaf clusters at it's tips.  It's the weirdest looking thing!  If I listen hard enough, I think I can even hear it chanting, "I think I can...I think I can...I think I can!"

I love a good holiday snow, and an occasional rainy gray day...both are good for cozying up to a steamy cup of joe, a warm blanket...and some quality time for writing.  And yet, at the core of my innerds (as we like to call them around our house)...I wait with bated breath for the arrival of spring.

I wonder if it was like that for Simeon and Anna.  Luke 2 states that Simeon had long been awaiting the consolation of Israel...and being moved by the Spirit, he went to the temple to await His arrival.  As soon as Anna caught sight of the Christ child, she gave thanks to God and then "spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem."  They were both waiting and watching in alert anticipation.

I think in the crazyiness of life and all of it's distractions, my heart tends to become numb.  There have been long periods of time when I haven't given a single thought to heaven or to Jesus' return.  I go about my daily duties with absolutely no sense of anticipation about what is yet to come.

I want to adjust whatever is in me, that is numbed by what the world has to offer.  I want the Holy Spirit to move me into places of direct encounter with the Christ child.  I want to wait in alert anticipation for the Consolation of my loss and disappointment...the Redemption for my sinful ways.

"Is it tonight?  Will I see Him tonight?"

and if not tonight, may my heart not grow weary in carrying the thought... 

"then when...?"

In Search of a Savior

One Wish

John 15:7

"If you remain in me 

and my words remain in you,

ask whatever you wish, 

and it will be given you."

If you had just one wish, what would it be?  

Would it be for freedom?  peace?  justice?  health?  riches?

Would it be a wish that would benefit you...or others?

Would it set things straight, make things right, or change the world?

Would it be a self-perpetuating wish that couldn't help but repeat itself from here on out?

Or a wish for a singly incomparable moment of bliss?

Would it greatly alter your current situation...or that of your fellow man?

Would it be shrouded in some convoluted and lofty ideal, only accessible to the wealthy and wise?

Or would it be magnificently simple, for all men to attain?

Would it champion a cause or cause a revolution?

Would it stir men's hearts toward action, or convict them of their idleness? 

If you had just one wish, what would it be?   

"Star Light, Star bright,
The first star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight."

...as people caught sight of the Great Star shining over the manger where Jesus laid,

I wonder what they wished for...

I wonder if they wished for Him.

Great God...Savior of the World...

In You all of our wishes come true.

Expectancy

Not having had kids myself, I've often been witness to the magical and sometimes not-so-magical events surrounding the birth of many of my friend's children.  It's been an interesting and exciting vantage point from which to experience "all things baby", without actually experiencing the miracle of birth myself.  Oh, I've been involved...quite an active participant, at times...but I've never actually gotten to "take home the prize" at the end of it all.

Yep, I've helped to decorate many a nursery, attended more baby showers than I'd care to admit, and even got to drive one expectant couple to the hospital early one Sunday morning as they did breathing exercises in the back seat of my car.  We'd done a couple of practice runs, tracking which route would be best to take at different times of the day on the San Diego freeways.  We'd set all neccesary items by the door so that actual thinking wouldn't be quite so necessary when "the moment" came. We planned and prepared, making sure that every detail was in place and ready for the long-awaited arrival.  We feasted on late-night pizza and indulged in weirdly wonderful food cravings.  We walked slowly down the pathways running throughout our apartment complex, carefully counting the minutes between contractions. 

And when "the moment" came, I drove like Mario Andretti through California traffic, racing my way through the gridlock in record time...throwing the car into a power slide at just the right moment, that landed us perfectly parallel to the emergency room doors...and my precious cargo into the capable hands of the ER staff.  Rumor has it that the timing couldn't have been more perfect.  Just as the nurses swept my friend into the wheel chair and down the hall to delivery, the baby's head made it's way into the outside world...and the rest is sweet, sweet history.

That was almost 20 years ago, and I can still see it in my mind's eye like it was just yesterday!  What an amazing, exciting, adrenaline-pumping time!  It was one of those moments that changed my life, as I knew it, forever.

In this Christmas season, I've been thinking a lot about the idea of expectancy...the magical, wonderful idea of "God with us"... God incarnate...God come down to earth.  I wonder what must've been going through the mind and heart of that simple, small-town girl from Nazareth.  You know the one...the virgin...the one who'd never even known a man, and yet who's body showed all of the outward indicators of full-term pregnancy.  Morning sickness, body changes, mood swings, funny cravings...and that whacky "nesting" thing.  Not to mention the "Savior of the World" kicking around and doing flips inside of her stomach!

How surreal it must've been to try and wrap her brain around the fact that out of ALL of the women on earth, God had chosen her to be the vessel that He would move through in this magnificent way.  And yet, how difficult...to see people giving her sideways glances...to hear the gossip...to feel the condemnation, and yet to know the truth.  What a bittersweet time.

Oddly enough, I find myself connecting deeply with Mary in the wonder-filled days just prior to Jesus's birth.  The overwhelming sense of expectancy...a mix of giddiness and trepidation.  One part child-like wonder, with ten parts full-grown unbridled awe.

"Only a matter of days..." she must have thought, "...for God to set His plan in motion.  Only a matter of time, before He comes to change the world."

I wonder if her heart didn't take on a soberness, a weight, as she planned and prepared for "the moment" that was to come.  Bags?  Check.  Camel saddle?  Check.  Snacks for the week-long road trip?  Check.  Lots and lots of courage?  You bet...Check!  I wonder if she laid awake a few nights before their departure to Bethlehem...unable to quiet her mind to sleep, like I do just before an important trip.  I wonder if she laid there staring up at the ceiling, thinking, "What a crazy ride this has been!", and wondering if she'd really just lost her ever-lovin' mind.  I wonder if she had any idea how it would all actually play out in the end?

There are times that my heart feels pregnant with purpose...a divine insemination that I cannot explain or even begin to adequately defend.  Times when I sense the overwhelming wonder of God with me, God inside of me, God moving through me. There is a tangible mix of giddiness and trepidation, an awe-filled wonder...that He would choose the heart of this simple, small-town girl to dwell in...a vessel through which He can reach out and change the world.  

 

My heart takes on a sober weight as I plan and prepare for the journey that is to come.  I lay awake some nights with heart and mind racing in pure excitement.  Oftentimes, I lay there and stare up at the ceiling and think, "What a crazy ride this has been!"...and I wonder if I've really just lost my ever-lovin' mind!  By the way, just for the record...to be completely honest...I have no clue how it will all play out in the end.  But I wait with great expectancy...

Deus nobis...God with us.  God in us.  God among us.

...may it be said of me, Lord, may it be said of me.

Long Dark Road

It was just after sunset as I drove through the high desert.  The sky was blue dark...and what little light there was faded quickly as I made my way home from a later-than-usual business meeting.  I'd taken a different road home this time, hoping to trim down my travel time...but instead of the familiar, bright, loud busyness of the highway, I found myself navigating my way through uncharted territory that was dark and desolate and barren.

The blackness of night crowded in quickly, and I almost felt it's suffocating presence wrap itself around me as I drove on through the winding hills.  I felt the anxiety rising inside my chest...my grip on the steering wheel tensed...and an unwelcome chill crept through my bones.  It was at that moment that I realized...I am scared.

A million gruesome scenarios seemed to flood through my heart and head.  I didn't know where I was.  There was no place to go for help...no lights on the road...no gas station in sight...no cell phones back then.  It was the most profound sense of loneliness that I'd ever experienced.  I was all alone. 

It happens to us every once in a while, doesn't it?  We're cruisin' through life...nothing really critical on the radar, when out of nowhere a "dark night of the soul" begins to press in on our hearts.  A feeling that we're in an uncertain situation, an unpredictable environment, a risky place.  It's unfamiliar...and lonely...and if we're totally honest, just plain scary.  The darkness is so thick that you can almost feel it pressing on your skin...and you feel your heart beating wildly in your chest.

Your worst moment comes when you don't know if you can finish the journey on your own.  All kinds of things could happen along the way.  And there is no one...NO ONE to help you make safe passage through this dark, barren desert.

Funny thing about my journey on that long, dark desert road...in reality, just 10 minutes down the road...up over the crest of the hill...was the beautifully well-lit, bright and bustling city that I lived in.  Had I let the fear overtake me and stopped, I would've been at the mercy of the darkened desert.  But just over the next hill's rise were all of the comforts of home that I had grown to know and love.  I was only moments away when the panic started to set in, but in reality my journey was almost done.

So if you feel the suffocating fear and loneliness of the long, dark road...take heart.  Just over the crest of that next hill could be the very thing you've been longing for.  In the mean time, you are not alone.  David words it so well in the Psalms:

Psalm 139:1-12
O LORD, you have searched me
and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue
you know it completely, O LORD.
You hem me in—behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.


Where can I go from your Spirit?
       Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
       if I make my bed in the depths,
you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
       if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
       your right hand will hold me fast.


 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
       and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
       the night will shine like the day,
       for darkness is as light to you.

Misty Morning

Ripple Effect

I've heard a lot about "The Butterfly Effect" in movies and on TV recently.  So I thought I'd look it up for myself, to find out what the references were about.  Wikipedia defines it as this:

"The butterfly effect is a term used in Chaos Theory to describe how tiny variations can affect giant systems, and complex systems, like weather patterns. The term butterfly effect was applied in Chaos Theory to suggest that the wing movements of a butterfly might have significant repercussions on wind strength and movements throughout the weather systems of the world, and theoretically, could cause tornadoes halfway around the world."

So in theory, a butterfly flapping its wings in China could eventually cause an F4 twister in Texas.  A concept that's rubbish to some, intriguing to others.  But whether you fully believe in the Butterfly Effect or not isn't really my point...however the idea of a ripple effect is.

It got me thinkin' about the effect we have on the people and situations around us...and it reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from the movie Gladiator:

"What we do in life,
echoes in eternity."

Which brings me to my real point.  What will your echo be?  What will your ripple effect look like?  What will the things you do and say today, reap in the years to come?  Will it bring about change?  Unity?  Stength?  Hope?...or will it reap doubt?  Division?  Controversy?  Trial? 

Whether we like it or not...admit it or not...believe it or not...we're having some kind of effect on the people and situations in our everyday lives.

What kind of ripple effect did you create today?

Fitting Words

 

Proverbs 25:11
"A word fitly spoken
is like apples of gold
in settings of silver."

Bird on a Roof

Psalm 102:7

"I have become like a bird 

alone on a roof." 

How Long? (SIng A New Song)

40 by U2

"I waited patiently for the Lord
He inclined and heard my cry.
He brought me right out of the pit,
out of the miry clay.

 
I will sing a new song,
How long to sing this song?

 
He set my feet upon a rock,
and made my footsteps firm.
Many will see,
Many will see and fear.

 
I will sing, sing a new song.
How long to sing this song?"

Surrender

I struggle and fight,

and He says, "Let me come in".

I build up thick walls of resistance,

and He says, "Let me come in".

I battle long and hard in impassioned self-protection,

and He says, "Let me come in".

I defend at all costs that which I perceive to be mine,

and He says, "Let me come in".

I champion the cause of righteous independence,

and He says, "Let me come in".

I reason and vindicate and justify,

and He says, "Let me come in".

I struggle and fight and build up and battle and defend and champion and reason and vindicate and justify and...

and He says, "Let me come in".

I surrender...and I find rest for my weary soul.

Matthew 11:29

"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, 

for I am gentle and humble in heart, 

and you will find rest for your souls."

Splash of Sunshine

A Daily Reminder

The year that John & I got married, we "fasted" from TV.  Yep, that's what I said.  No TV...for an entire year.  Can you believe it?!?!  Funny enough, we actually LOVED it!  It didn't allow us the convenience of hiding from each other or burying our problems by escaping into someone else's drama or sitcom.  We actually had to engage with each other and interact.  What a concept!

One of the unexpected ripple effects was that we became really intentional about the DVD's we selected...or shall I say, didn't select.  The other was that we noticed right away that by silencing the voices of those countless commercials, our "need" for things quickly subsided.  There was no longer that insatiable craving for bigger, newer, more advanced and upgraded.  We experienced the rare and priceless sensation of being materially satisfied.  We had everything we "needed".  We had each other.

The second year that we were married, we kicked the TV out of the bedroom altogether.  We were just a crazy bunch of kids, weren't we?!  No really, we moved the TV downstairs and banned all things "high tech" from our bedroom, claiming that territory as our sanctuary, our private retreat.  The one place we could close the door and truly escape from the world.  It became our haven of rest.

I decorated it like a luxury room at a hotel spa...complete with a reading nook and ocean sounds on the CD player.  We painted it a soft ocean blue that was meant to be soothing to the soul, with dark earthy chocolate browns for a masculine touch, and metallic silver as a cool accent.  Sitting on a wall shelf were white wooden letters spelling the word "REST"...just as a little reminder for our hearts as well as our bodies. As a finishing touch I put a large arrangement of white tulips in a tall glass vase on a long table at the end of the bed.

Every morning, I woke up and saw those flowers, and they made me smile.  Every night they were one of the last things I saw.  I wasn't sure why, but for some reason they just delighted me.  Well, it's been five years, and I still love having them right there nearby. 

Today I looked up the meaning of white tulips, and it made me catch my breath.  Most common was the meaning of the color.  Like most everyone knows, white stands for purity and innocence.  But the tulip itself symbolizes perfect love...claiming worthiness of one's love...and asking for forgiveness.

The words seemed to jump right off of the page at me, for if there were principles that we'd want our marriage to reflect, we simply couldn't choose anything better than these.  Undeniably, God has done so much to help us regain the purity and innocence of heart that we both longed for.  He's continually redeeming those areas of our lives that have become tainted and cynical...and He's doing it by loving us perfectly...and by forgiving us...and that in itself makes Him worthy of more love than we could ever give Him.  It also gives us a love for each other that is built on innocence, honor and forgiveness.  By loving Him more, we love each other more.  By loving each other more, we love Him more.  Now that's a cycle I don't mind getting stuck in!

So when it comes down to it, NO WONDER I've enjoyed those white tulips at the end of our bed so much...without even knowing why!  But now that I'm aware of their significance, my appreciation for them runs even deeper!  What a great reminder every morning when I wake up and every night before I close my eyes to rest:

A reminder to protect and nurture an innocence of heart in each other.  A reminder to find great worth in each other's love; to give love with disarming vulnerability, patience and maturity.  And a reminder, above all else, to be quick to forgive ourselves and each other...

Yep, white tulips.  You're just gonna have to get you some!  :)

Forever The Same

My husband called me out into the cold night air to have a good look at the moon.  It was extraordinary...a full, bright white moon with a sky filled with stars around it.  The moon was so bright that it illuminated the wispy clouds as they passed overhead...speeding by, as if everything was in super fast motion.  It was mesmerizing.  Had it not been so cold, I could've made my bed under the stars and watched the movement of the clouds for hours on end.

I felt very, very small in that breathtaking moment...where what's going on regularly in nature is so much bigger than our very puny lives.  Struck with awe, I wondered how many times this type of thing had happened...without me even being aware.  Had my husband not called me out enjoy it, I never would've known it was going on. 

It caused me to wonder if anyone else's husband had called them into the cold night air to have a good look at the moon.  Anyone in the city where we live?  In our state?  In our country?  How about in China?  My feeling small very quickly began to feel more like tiny in the magnitude of it all.  But then the thought hit me that this was just one moment in a lifetime of awe-inducing moments...so how many more lifetimes had God been up to this same amazing stuff?  How many generations of "me" have been awed by the work of His hands?

My thoughts quickly covered years and decades and centuries and millenniums...and landed on Adam.  Had Adam ever called Eve out into the cold night air to have a good look at the moon?  Had they been so struck, as we were, at God's awesome handiwork?  Or had time passed by simply unappreciated and un-noted?

You know, in the US if we find something over 100 years old, we celebrate it's historical significance.  In Europe, they honor structures that are thousands of years old.  Scientists revere the items they discover to have an enormous carbon date.  But God was around for it all!

Revelation 1:4 says that God is the one who "was and is and is to come".  He always has been, and He always will be.  Just try to wrap your brain around that one! 

So in our one little night of enjoying the beauty of the moon, I was reminded that God has created thousands upon thousands of nights just like that one.  And if He should tarry, there could be thousands upon thousands more.  There have been many moons that have passed...we enjoy the sky filled with stars each night...and the sun rises to welcome each new day.

The cycle continues...and He's forever the same.

Today's painting was inspired by this song:

Just One by Jonathan David Helser

Just one drop of your blood

and my sins are gone

just one thread of your robe

I'm made whole

just one glance of your face

is all I can dream of

just one moment of your favor

is so much greater

You are the One Who was

You are the One Who is

You are the One Who will always love

Just one word from Your mouth

the heav'ns were made

just one touch of Your hand

I am changed

just one breath from Your lips

I come alive

just one moment of Your favor

is so much greater

You are the One Who was

You are the One Who is

You are the One Who will always love

No matter what 

my circumstances try to say

I will trust in You

I will lift my voice

I will say

You are greatly to be praised

You are the One Who was

You are the One Who is

You are the One Who will always love

To listen to Jonathan David Helser's song, "Just One" click here.

Les Arbres Le Chant (The Singing Trees)

I pass these trees every day.  They line one of the main roads that we use to get from Point A to Point B.  They are evenly spaced along the road and all the same size, all the same color.  They were planted the same way, cared for by the same landscaping company, and grow at about the same rate every year.

At first glance they seem quite the same, but in actuality they are each and every one unique.  Not a single one of them has the exact same shape, the same number of leaves on it's branches, or the same life span.  They each react quite differently to external dangers...some of them make it, and sadly, some of them don't.  Some are susceptible to disease, while others fall prey to insects and mites that bore holes into their trunks.  Some will stand strong for a lifetime, while others will be cut down prematurely as a necessary sacrifice to the progress of things around it.

As I pass these trees every day, I often wonder how God sees them.  Does He see them as just a row of the same ol' trees...or as unique and beautiful in their individuality?  Do they each have their own conversation with their Creator?  Scripture says that "all creation groans"...and I wonder what that sounds like.  I'm pretty sure I've felt it a time or two, but wouldn't it be amazing to actually be able to hear it?

And what about the singing trees mentioned in I Chronicles?  Wouldn't it be breath-taking to sit in your back yard and listen to the trees break out in song?  What must that sound like?  On earth, I can only imagine it to be spectacular...but can you imagine what it must sound like from God's vantage point?

Luke 19 tells the story of Jesus coming near to the Mount of Olives, and the whole multitude of the disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works they had seen, saying:

      “‘Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the LORD!’
      Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

Well, some of the Pharisees didn't like it much and wanted Jesus to rebuke His disciples.  But He answered and said to them,

“I tell you that if these should keep silent,

the stones would immediately cry out.”

Here are a couple of things to think about:

Does your life sing of the mighty works you have seen God do?

What does your song sound like?...Is it pleasing to His ears? 

Is your life song louder than that of the trees?

 

C'mon...you're not going to let yourself be out done by a bunch of trees, are ya?!

 

I Chronicles 16:33-34

"Then the trees of the forest will sing,
       they will sing for joy before the LORD,
       for he comes to judge the earth.

 Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;
       his love endures forever."

Salvation Spring Up

Isaiah 45:8

"You heavens above,

rain down righteousness;

let the clouds shower it down...

let the earth open wide,

let salvation spring up,

let righteousness grow with it;

I, the LORD, have created it."

This is the time of year when I struggle the most with the weather that comes along.  It's cold and rainy and gray...not to mention that everything that was once brilliant and lovely in my garden is now some shade of drab and lifeless brown.


It can be quite depressing if I take too much notice of it...this process of dying...IF (and this is a really big "if" here), IF I wasn't fully convinced that Spring was coming.  You see, I've come to trust that no matter how nasty of a winter we have, there will always come the time when the sun will come back out, the temperatures will rise...and little sprouts of green will begin to peak their heads up out of cracks in the otherwise barren earth.  In other words, I've come to trust in HOPE.

I love the imagery in this verse in Isaiah.  It brings such vivid pictures to mind as the clouds rain down righteousness, the earth opens wide and salvation springs up from the ground.  It's a declaration of hope at the hand of the Lord.

I know my share of people who are going through a rainy season of their own these days.  This season in their lives seems cold, harsh, and void of life.  There is melancholy of the heart, as days that were once brilliant and lovely are remembered...and longed for again.

It really can be quite depressing...this process of dying.

For some, the idea of anything ever blooming in their garden again is just too much for the mind to imagine.  For some, the situation looks so bleak that redemption seems just too much for the heart to bear.  But if we don't take too much note of it, this season soon will pass...and Spring will burst open in all it's glory.

If we don't lose patience.  If we don't give up hope.

Don't despise the rain or the harshness of winter.  For in the rain are all of the nutrients that will cause the beautiful things to grow.  Isaiah states that righteousness rained down...but righteousness also sprouted up!  The death you are experiencing now in this rainy season will sprout up as a strong, beautiful living thing come spring!

So grab a warm blanket and something warm to drink, and ride this dreary season out.  But don't lose patience...and don't give up hope!  Spring is on it's way!

Oh, and one word to the wise:  If you have to get out in it, be sure to bundle up and wear your galoshes!  It can be nasty out there!

The Fowler's Snare

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Psalm 124:7

"We have escaped like a bird
the snare has been broken,
and we have escaped."

I used to be a part of a church ministry that helped people to deal with their emotional junk from the past.  One of the stories we used to share was of a pigeon who's owner had tied one end of twine to a stake in the ground and the other end to the bird's leg.  The bird would walk in circles...round and round that stake.  Then one day, the owner removed the twine, but the bird continued to walk in circles...round and round that stake.  It had forgotten what freedom was like, so it continued to do the same things that it had done in captivity.

What I love about this scripture is that it speaks of true freedom...not just some sort of lofty theory that has no affect on our lives...but true freedom.  The snare hasn't just been removed, it's been broken!  And the good news?  We've escaped!

Lots of us know full well what captivity feels like.  We've walked in circles around the same problem or sin or addiction for years...feeling powerless to bring any kind of change to the situation.  When the truth of the matter is that Jesus has broken the snare...He has severed the ties to our old ways, and given us a means of escape.  He has snapped in two the power of the Enemy's hold on our lives, and He has set us free. 

Now comes the hard part:  trusting in what He has done.  Some of us have a hard time remembering what it was like to be free.

Some of us have forgotten what it's like to fly... 

After The Storm

I'll never forget the haunting roar of the tornado that passed over my house a few years back.  My housemate and I had taken shelter in her bedroom closet and were using our cell phones to relay the play-by-play to friends and family.  Back lit by the flashing street lights, we could see the eerie

shadow of trees through the window shades...whipping violently back and forth.  The turbulence was disturbing...the pressure in our ears, uncomfortable...and the beat of our hearts in our chest, deafening.  It seemed like time was standing still, and yet, it lasted only seconds.

However, the destruction that followed in it's wake took years to repair.  Entire neighborhoods were flattened, a corner of the campus two blocks away was in ruins...my house, oddly enough, was spared.  Seems that for some reason the F3 funnel cloud hopped right over my house just before hitting the crest of a hill and turning into an F4...obliterating everything in it's path from that point on.

The other thing I'll never forget was the eerie silence moments after the tornado hit.  People slowly emerged from their houses and wandered into the streets...in a dazed stupor of shock at what had just happened.  Tree branches were everywhere.  Bicycles were in the tops of trees.  Pieces of metal roofing and wood planks filled the streets.  Eventually the weighty silence was replaced with the haunting sound of sirens coming from every direction as emergency crews responded to the scene.

And lastly, I'll never forget how beautifully blue the sky was...the cloud cover had broken, and the sun was beaming down, lighting up all of the devastation in a radiant glow.  The air was crystal clear...and it was as if we could hear sounds from miles away.  The atmosphere was crisp...clean...and everything seemed to sparkle.  As the sun began to set, it ignited the clouds on the horizon into one of the most fiery sunsets I've ever seen.

Funny how sometimes the most brilliant sunsets follow the nastiest storms.  The rule seems to apply in life, too...at least in my life.  I've gone through times that filled my heart with fear...times that felt like violence to my soul...times that left a path of destruction behind it that took years to recover from.  

Sadly enough, I'd actually be more accurate to say that I've seen a few "F3 tornadoes" rip through my "yard".  I remember the eerie silence in the aftermath.  I remember the dazed stupor as it all seemed to move in slow motion.  Everything seemed out of place and upside down.  My heart was in shambles.  

But as the storm clouds broke, I was acutely aware of a crisp, clean clarity that came.  Even in the devastation that surrounded me, there was freshness and a sparkle to what was left standing in the aftermath.  There was the warm glow of the Sun...and there was hope.

With the eventual passing of each storm came the fiery sunset on the horizon...when out of the pain and suffering would come breath-taking beauty.  The new friendships that were forged.  The priceless self-discovery that was made.  The invaluable wisdom gleaned from the lessons of life.  They all were glorious colors on the skyline of my recovery.

There are just some sunsets that we will never forget.  Crazy as it is, some come after the most devastating storms.  But they all remind us that even after the nastiest of storms, there is always the warm glow of the Sun...and there is hope for a new day.

 

Psalm 30:5

"Weeping may remain for a night, 

but rejoicing comes in the morning."

Holy Fire

My husband took this picture as we were relaxing by the campfire last fall.  It was an amazing mix of purples and oranges with shocks of bright glowing light.  It caught our attention that right in the middle of the fire, the logs overlapped in the shape of a cross.

It was damp that time of year...making it considerably harder to get that fire started.  So to feed the flames, we gathered up all kinds of junky stuff...anything that would burn quickly...and threw it into the fire to help things along.  Once we got it rolling, we broke out the marshmallows, put them on sticks and began to settle into really enjoying our campfire experience. 

However, in the process of burning up some of the marshmallows, we noted that the most obvious place for heat--the flames--was not necessarily the best or most predictable place for roasting.  It was down in the glowing embers.  All of that strong wood had eventually caught fire and began to fall apart a bit...and as it disintegrated, it began to create a much more steady, intense heat than even the flames that came before.  We were able to judge just how close and how long we needed to hold those marshmallows in place to achieve the perfectly golden exterior and wonderfully melted interior that we had so desired.

I've often noted certain people who's lives seem to be on fire.  They're interesting, passionate, and fully engaged.  They even seem to start fires in the hearts of the people they come in contact with.  And I wonder what makes them different from all the others?  What makes them burn so brightly?  What makes their heat so intense?

And I'm beggining to develop a theory:  it's in the junky stuff they were willing to throw on the fire to help get it started.  Oh, you can try to fabricate a good fire, but as soon as the lighter fluid is gone, it quickly fizzles out.  But if you want an intense, long-lasting burn...you've gotta start by burning the junk.  Then you've got to be willing to charred by the flames...enough so that you begin to break apart into smoldering embers.  And if you have the patience for that, well then, you'll begin to produce a heat that is even more intense than the flames that came before.  You will become useful and burn steady enough to ignite those around you.

Do not fear the flames...for Jesus is in the fire.  Let Him burn off the junky parts of you in order to create a campfire worth remembering.

Burn, baby, burn!

Water Lights

There's a certain highway in our metro area that crosses over a series of lake inlets.  The view is simply breath-taking, no matter what the time of day. Even though it's not often enough, I LOVE getting to drive this section of interstate...especially at night.  I'm mesmerized by the way the colorful lights along the waterfront dance atop the inky black waters.

It's fascinating, really, how black the blackness can be...almost suffocating at times...and yet it does not choke out the light.  The light shines on...dances even...entirely unaffected by the darkness that surrounds it.

I've known a few water lights in my day.  You know the kind...the ones who are bearing unimaginable difficulty and pain, and yet seem to be undaunted by the weightiness of their trial.  The are not shaken.  Or rattled.  Or perplexed.  Or crabby.  Or bitter.  Or hateful.  They, instead, sparkle. 

Just like that magical stretch of I-77, I relish the times that I get to be near them.  They inspire me.  They encourage me.  And just by stark contrast, they minimize any right I might have championed to whine or complain.  In their company, I am humbled by the depth of greatness that God sees in them...that He would trust them to carry such a heavy burden...to navigate through such a complex trial...to endure such intense pain and suffering.

...and yet their light simply shines on...dances even...and they are entirely unaffected by the darkness that surrounds them.

Water lights...sparkling in the darkness...lighting the way home.

Matthew 5:16

"In the same way, let your light shine before men, 

that they may see your good deeds 

and praise your Father in heaven."

Break Forth

When I lived out in San Diego in the 90's, I had one friend who was a bit of a surfer dude.  He wasn't just a weekend warrior, surfing "on the side".  He was a true surfer dude with racks on his car and wax in his pocket...and there's a big difference.  In fact the real surfer dudes laughed at the corporate dudes that showed up beach-side on the weekends.  They could spot 'em a mile away. 

Seems this surfer thing has a whole sub-culture connected to it.  A lifestyle.  A social code.  A state of mind.  Real surfer dudes hung out with other surfer dudes...and dudettes.  They shared condos that sat right on the sand with views of nothin' but sea...and they had their share of "community traditions".

My friend told me of one certain tradition that, quite honestly, wouldn't be a bad idea for the entire community of mankind to adopt.  He said that in the surfer community, every evening...after enjoying a day filled with swimming in the ocean and surfing on the waves...everyone would step out onto their ocean-view decks to admire the sunset.  But here's the clincher:  as sun melted into sea...just as the last bit of orange slipped below the horizon...everyone witnessing the grandeur would erupt into wild applause.  Their tradition was that at the end of every day they would give honor and respect to the One who had created such amazing beauty.
 
That's why this scripture in Isaiah has such an impact on me.  The prophet Isaiah writes that creation has its own "community tradition", so to speak.  In verses 12 & 13, he states that there will be great joy as we come and go...that God will lead us out in peace.  But here's the thing that really grabs my attention:  he says that the mountains and hills will break forth in singing before us...and the trees will applaud.  How cool is that?!?!  Creation's giving a standing ovation...over us!

I can't help but link the two stories together.  We, as humans, are applauding God's handiwork that we get to enjoy every day.  And that same creation is applauding God's handiwork in us.  That's an awe-filled thought.  ALL of creation is joining into a grand gesture of unbridled appreciation...of awe and wonder...of honor and respect for the One who has created such amazing beauty.

So today, I urge you to not be so distracted that you lose your sense of awe and wonder...that you forget to applaud the beauty you see all around you.  It might be something in nature that simply takes your breath away.  It might be something special you see in the person sitting in the cubicle right next to yours.

But if I can, let me urge you to do just one more thing:  tune your hears to hear the songs that creation is singing over you.  Listen for the wild applause that erupt on your behalf...for you are beautiful, my friend.  God's masterpiece in living form.  At first sight of you, all creations shouts, "Bravo!  Bravo!"

Isaiah 55:12-13

 “For you shall go out with joy,
      And be led out with peace;
      The mountains and the hills
      shall break forth 

into singing before you,
      And all the trees of the field 

shall clap their hands.

Instead of the thorn bush 

will grow the pine tree, 

and instead of briers 

the myrtle will grow. 

This will be for 

the LORD's renown, 

for an everlasting sign, 

which will not be destroyed."

Portrait Like Pollock

Abstract Expressionism.  The art movement that has perplexed so many and infuriated some.  For most, it's that pesky little blip in American creative history that just won't go away.  I must admit, I've always been curious about it...curious how they got there, curious how the structures and principles developed, curious how people came to interpret it.

I've heard a lot of people respond to it by saying, "A two year old could do that!"  "That's just scribbling!" Or, "That's not real art, that's just a mess!"  And for the most part, I think my private inner beliefs have resided somewhere in that same neighborhood. 

That is, until I actually tried it.

I've always wanted to try it, but even though I held what might seem as such low regard for it, it remained quite intimidating to me.  Because I didn't fully understand the structures and principles of the movement, I felt very vulnerable in my pursuit of it's expression.

However, mustering up the courage to make a feeble attempt at it was actually quite liberating.  I certainly felt a sense of freedom that I haven't found in my other work...and I very quickly began to connect to the expressiveness in it.  Unexpectedly, I found myself giggling as I painted...something that hasn't happened before.  It was actually quite disarming. 

Most surprising was the sudden sense that this form of art was much more sophisticated than I'd originally deemed it to be.  By putting my hand to it, I very quickly developed a new-found respect for the actual planning and creative principles fused into the art pieces of this period, and greater appreciation for the ones who had spent their lifetimes pouring their energies into a movement like this.  They were misunderstood, misrepresented, and undeniably undervalued for their contributions in the exploration of art and creative processes.  They were shunned for their mishandled application of art theory, and to this day struggle to find their place of respect in the art world.

But the Impressionists went through it, too.  As did the Cubists and Minimalists and Op Artists, alike.  Actually any artist who challenged the stylings of their time were thought to be rebellious, antagonistic and controversial at best.  Many of them continued to create in the style they'd been a part of discovering, but most with great sacrifice and an overall sense of personal failure.  A few became famous and reaped the material gain, but most died penniless...frail...and forgotten.

Christianity's a lot like that, don't you think?  It's a belief that has perplexed so many and infuriated some.  It's a pesky annoyance that some wish would just go away.  It's gotten a lot of coverage in the media, with most reports coming back that it's a movement of fools, an agenda filled with subplots and hidden schemes, a crutch at best.

We've all heard people respond to it by saying, "They're just hypocrites!"  "They're weak!"  Or, "How can anyone love a God that lets people die?"  And for the most part, I understand completely where they're coming from.  It's so intimidating from the outside looking in, especially if you don't understand the structures and principles that apply.  People...even people who want to know more...feel vulnerable in their pursuit of anything Godly.

And then there are the ragamuffin twelve who, after learning the "New Way", turned the world as they knew it upside down.  They challenged the traditions of their time and were thought to be rebellious, antagonistic and controversial at best.  They continued to believe in the teachings of Jesus even after He left the earth, but most with great sacrifice and an overall sense of personal failure.  Most suffered great trials, were imprisoned and even tortured...with all dying martyr's deaths in the end.

To think about the disciples certainly gives me a new-found respect for the way they bumbled through what Jesus was teaching, and greater appreciation for the way they spent their lifetimes pouring their energies into walking as He had walked.  They were misunderstood, misrepresented, and undeniably undervalued as examples of how to live out the gospel of Christ on a daily basis. 

And yet, I see a portrait of me in each of them.  Doubt.  Distrust.  Greed.  Pride.  It's all there...and when you mix it all together, it ends up looking just like a portrait by Pollock. 

A beautifully intruiguing mess.

One Voice

I have a friend from college who is so proud of her daughter.  From her accounts, her daughter has the voice of an angel.  Funny thing is, that's exactly how I remember my friend.  She had a fantastic sense of comedic timing and showmanship, but when she opened her mouth to sing, you just couldn't deny that voice.  As she's posted video of her daughters vocal recitals and programs, I've often thought, "like mother, like daughter."  I've even tinkered with the thought of how amazing it would be to hear the two of them sing a duet together some time.

I wonder if people hear the "song" of our lives and think, "like Father, like Daughter"...or "like Father, like Son"?  Do we embody the same quality of tone, the same range of notes, the same mastery of skill?  When people hear us "sing" do they instantly think of Him and His wonderfulness?  Is our linked heritage undeniable...or questionable at best?

I don't know about you, but I want to sing His songs.  I want to move in His ways.  I want people to see me and think of Him.  I want my heritage to be unequivocally undeniable.  I want to share one voice.

No more just tinkering with the thought of how amazing it would be...let the duet begin! 
(...and I'm pretty sure He'll make it amazing!)

Blessed

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Blessing is an odd little thing.  It seems, quite often, to packaged with the less-attractive concept of breaking.  It's like that holiday DVD pack where one is a mega million dollar blockbuster epic, and the other is a "direct to DVD" release.  But you can't buy one without the other.

Most of the time, we'd be completely content to take the blessing, and leave the breaking on the shelf.  It's inconvenient.  It's awkward.  It's uncomfortable at best.  And sometimes, it's excruciatingly painful.  As a Christian culture, we love declaring, "Oh, He's blessin' me, brother!"...but I don't recollect that I've ever heard someone declare the goodness of their suffering.  How weird would it be to hear someone say, "Oh, He's breakin' me, brother, He's breakin' me!"...with a smile on their face?!

I've often wondered if the breaking and the blessing come as a pair for a reason.  Could it be that we would never really see the blessing, if we hadn't experienced the breaking first?  Could it be that blessing left on its own would produce a bloated sense of entitlement, if the breaking didn't come after?

So I look around at all of the things my heart keeps list of and is thankful for...and I realize that I am also thankful for the breaking that has taken place in order to give me the ability to see with grateful eyes.

The Word says that he who is forgiven much, loves much.  It's also true that he who is broken much, is blessed much.  Speaking of Jesus as our perfect example, Isaiah 53:5 says:

"He was wounded for our transgressions,  

He was bruised for our iniquities;

The chastisement for our peace was upon Him,

And by His stripes we are healed."

His breaking for our blessing.  For that alone, I am eternally grateful.  But for all of the breaking and blessing that has followed...I am overwhelmed with thanksgiving.  I have been blessed much.

Bleed Over

I was pouring paint into my palette tray the other day when one of the colors broke the boundary of its containment ridge and slowly started to flow into the adjacent space...already occupied by a color of its own.  I was a little panicked at first, but then began to enjoy the idea of the accidental mix.  Now that the barrier had been crossed, there were all kinds of new options and combinations that could take place.  It completely broke the mold of preconceived notions and presented a perfect opportunity to let my creativity get involved.

It's kind of like that in our own lives, isn't it?  I mean, for the most part, we live rather compartmentalized lives.  We painstakingly guard what's ours.  Many of us live in neighborhoods where the garage door goes up, the SUV drives off to work or to run kids around to school and all their activities...then the SUV pulls back into the garage, the garage door goes down...only to be repeated day after day after day.  We work with people like us.  Our kids play with kids just like them.  We go to church where we feel most comfortable and familiar.

I'm not saying that it's bad, I'm just suggesting that it's all very...safe.  It's all so contained.  When it comes right down to it, I wonder what would happen if we all dared to just bleed over to the other side just a bit?  What would happen if we allowed our lives to spill over the boundaries we've set up around ourselves?  What would happen if we intentionally crossed those barriers?  What would happen if we replaced the panic because of the unknown with childlike wonder due to the endless possibilities?  I'm convinced we'd live in a much different world.

It would be a world where your friends weren't all Christ followers...some of them might be struggling with the whole idea of Jesus...some might even profess to not believe at all.  In this world, they wouldn't all have the same color of skin as you, either...they would come from a variety of cultural backgrounds and experiences.  They would work in much different types of jobs than you, too...some making double your salary, some less than half...some may not have a job to go to.  In this world, you'd be oblivious to "the other side of town"...your children would play in those parks as much as the ones in your own neighborhood.  It might even go so far that you intentionally visit a small struggling church there on a regular basis to really help affect a change...instead of being one of hundreds at your well-established church, filled with people just like you.  Or if all of that feels to lofty to achieve, then maybe in this world you would engage the people you come in contact with every day on a personal level, instead of transactionally.  The gas station attendant, the restaurant server, the bank teller, the grocery clerk.  They all have names, and families, and lives that are just as important as yours...maybe very different than yours, but just as important to God.

It comes right down to this:  how can salt be of any use if it stays in the shaker?  If it's added to something that's already salty, won't it at some point become too salty?  We were meant to be the salt of the world...not salt to the salt fields.  We were meant to be a pleasant seasoning...affecting everything we come in contact with.  How can light be of any use if it is kept contained under a basket?  If it's covered up then what effect will it have on the darkness?  We were meant to be the light of the world...not a candle placed in the middle of a well-lit room.  We were meant to take the goodness of God into the dark places...shining His light so that the whole world can see.

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 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."

Bleed over.  It creates all kinds of new options and combinations that could take place...adding vibrance and purpose and meaning to our lives.  It completely breaks the mold of preconceived notions and presents us with a perfect opportunity to let our God-given creativity get involved.

Bleed over.  It's meant to change the world.

The End of Mourning (A Whirling Dance)

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Psalm 30:11-12 (The Message)

You did it: you changed wild lament
      into whirling dance;
   You ripped off my black mourning band
      and decked me with wildflowers.
   I'm about to burst with song;
      I can't keep quiet about you.
   God, my God,
      I can't thank you enough.

I remember my time of mourning like it was just yesterday.  Against my will, I was made a front row spectator, as the life that I knew crumbled all around me.  I call it my dark year.  So it should be no big surprise that I can't remember much of that year at all...except deep, dark pain.  I remember dragging the hollow shell of me out of bed each morning to eek out a minimal existence at my job, coming home and collapsing on the couch with my arms covering my eyes, listening to the drone of the TV until I fell asleep and somehow, sometime during the night crawling into bed...only to do it all over again the next day.  There was nothing that could pretty it up...nothing that could release me from its crushing weight...nothing that held even the hope of a silver lining.

It was the darkest year of my life...and yet as clearly as I can remember the darkness, I can also remember the sense of mending.  I remember being hit by the realization that I just might be on my way up out of the pit after all.  It was as if someone came storming into my living room and threw open the heavy curtains...letting the Light spill across everything in the room.  It was a triumphant move on God's part...and a victorious declaration that He had been true to His word.  He had NOT let me be destroyed.

What followed was a time of deep reconstruction and repair.  God didn't want to just put a bandage on it, He wanted to heal it.  He wasn't going to settle for lots of scaring as acceptable collateral damage, He wanted to do meticulous laser-like surgery...making me stronger than before, wiser than before, and more complete than before.  His intention was that this end of mourning would be like a time of rebirth for me...a fresh start...a new beginning.  "The old things were passed way, and all things were new."

Funny thing:  as the healing began, what had once been overwhelming grief and despair turned into waves of indescribable joy and gratitude.  I became altogether grateful...unreservedly thankful.  I started to see all of the things He had spared me from...all of the times He had stepped in and said, "This is as far as you go with that.  She's had enough."  My questioning of why He had let it happen blossomed into a fervent celebration of His protection over me and His faithfulness to me.

My heart began to sing.  My faith exploded.  My traditional ideas of God became fire-tested convictions.  My lukewarm acceptance became white-hot adoration.  My stagnant apathy became a whirling dance of devotion.  My heart was forever changed.  My heart is forever His.

Genesis

I was thinking about what went on prior to Genesis 1:1.  There was no light.  There was no shape or form.  There were no constellations, or galaxies, or universes.  There was only pitch black darkness...and God.

God, the Creator.  God, the Ultimately Creative One.  God, the Source of the Big Idea.  God, the Master Artist.

My imagination engages and I start to wonder what it must have looked like...that moment in time when the creative process began.  Did He take a big gulp of coffee just before he flung the universe into place?  Did He throw on His favorite tunes for inspiration?  Was He loud and messy...humming and laughing as He went?...or thoughtfully organized?...or wildly expressive? 

Was there an air of celebration among the heavenly hosts as He created one thing after the next, after the next?  Were they tickled?  Delighted?  Awed by it?  Were there ovations of wonder at the grandeur of it all?  Or was there a still, quiet reverence that fell in a soft hush across the skies as each star took it's intended place?

But in the beginning, before the "in the beginning"...I imagine a womb-like place in the middle of the  inky black darkness...where light and color began to swirl about as one...and the angels catch their breath at the sight.  Not quite liquid, not quite gas...and definitely nothing close to any kind of functional form.  Just swirling light and color...and the glorious anticipation that something most magnificent was about to take place. 

"In the beginning, God created..."  What a perfect way to start.

sectionINTERsection

You know, when I was younger, I had this idea that life was like a straight line getting us from Point A to Point B.  Effortless.  Direct.  Relatively simple.

Then as I grew a little older and started developing more of a sense of things, I became keenly aware of life's ebb and flow...and concluded that the line from Point A to Point B was filled with unexpected, but graceful, twists and turns.

Now it seems that I'm entering a season in my life where that "awareness" has aged into an undeniable reality that life is complex and convoluted, at best.  Just when I think I've hit my stride, things seem to take a sharp turn to the left or to the right.  Sometimes from situations within my control...sometimes, well...not.  Then come the unnerving intersections where I transition from one major section to the next...carefully navigating passage through the crossroads.  Not to mention the occasional fork in the road, where a crucial decision has to be made that could alter the very course of life as I know it, from that moment on.

Sections and Intersections...making up the road map of our lives.  Once again, I'm reminded how thankful I am that my heart is wired with a "GPS navigation system". 

...If only I'd read the "owner's manual" so that I'd know how to use the darn thing...

Psalm 48:14 
"For this God is our God for ever and ever;
       he will be our guide even to the end."

Psalm 119:105

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path."

Black & White In The Real World

Instead of painting what was in my head or something strategically planned or even from a piece of inspiration, I leaned into what my heart was saying...and painted that.  (Now there's a fresh idea!)  Interestingly enough, in removing the pressure I had put on my own process, I was able to connect with something really significant that's been rattling around in the cages of my soul for awhile.

It's this idea...well, even more than an idea, it's a struggle.  And more than the proverbial struggle between right and wrong, it's the struggle between this world we live in and the right and wrong that influences it.

For me, it takes on spiritual undertones because, as in the painting, the foundational element seems to be eroding.  It's falling apart.  Disintegrating.  Which is where the struggle is felt most...because we spend so much time and effort trying to relate to this world....trying to impact it.  We struggle with the haunting question of our relevance...our significance.  We find our lives positioned here in such a way that we often forget that this is not the End Game.  Ultimately, our context is not found here.  And yet we are so tied to it's things, it's status, it's defining elements...that we forget who we really are.

But fascinatingly enough, it's not just disintegrating into darkness, it's disintegrating into light.  We may feel like it's getting worse and worse...as if the evil might one day overtake us.  We may even sense the shifting under our feet as the beautiful letdown begins, but we've simply lost vision of the Eternal.  This is not our home...and the worse it gets, the closer we get to living the rest of our days in the presence of the Light of the World.  When's the last time you had a good long thought about heaven?...Yeah, it's been far too long for me, too.  This life can be so consuming, and it's easy to get distracted. 

Oh, don't get me wrong...there's plenty of evil splattering it's way across the landscape of our lives.  Slashes of betrayal and pain.  Explosions of anger and hatred.  But as painful as they are, they're actually resting just on the surface.  The Enemy can only affect us, He cannot have us.  And here's another thing I often forget:  we won't take it with us!  Do you really believe that?!  I know it's a tenet of our faith,  but sometimes we live as if we don't really believe it...as if this is the only life we get.  But it's true:  we don't take it with us!  I can't tell you the last time I really thought about that.  All of the wrongs we experienced.  All of the chaos, all of the rejection, all of the disappointment and heart-breaking realities...we won't take a single one of them with us.  Scripture says:

Revelation 21:3-5 "And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true."

Trustworthy and true...no more death or mourning or crying or pain or chaos or sin or hatred or rejection or anger or betrayal or lies or abandonment or abuse or misunderstanding or separation or forgottenness or devastation or hunger or illness or persecution or injustice.  No more evil.  No more darkness. 

So as we strive to be right...as we strive to be understood...as we strive to fit in or have a voice...as we strive to find our place...as we strive for relevance and significance...may I remind you (along with myself) that this world is not ours.  It IS falling apart at the seams.  But take heart.  Today we are one day closer to being in the presence of the Light of the World.  The Enemy wages war against our souls.  He seeks whose lives he might devour.  He wrecks havoc on the fragile hearts of men.

But in the end, when it's all said and done, it WILL be worth it.

Psalm 46:1-3 says:
"God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear,
though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging."
~ Selah

So the pressure's off.  Stop trying to hold it all together...for we are all just "aliens and strangers" in this world.

Beautiful Suffering

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Indescribable loss.  Taken down to the nubs.  Stripped bare.  Every hint of life-bearing form removed.  An Extreme Makeover of the most extreme kind.  The ultimate do-over or Mulligan, as you golfers like to call it.  Numbing pain.  Mind-blowing displacement of our belief system like heaving tectonic shifts in the Earth's crust.  Violence to the soul.  That single crack making it's way up the glass paned window just before it shatters, giving way to the pressure of it all.

2 Corinthians 5:17 says, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new."

And yet...in the faithfulness of a new day comes the promise of hope.  With a series of new days comes a new season.  With the passing of time comes healing, redemption and restoration.  From that which had died and was buried, springs forth tender green shoots of new life.  From that which laid dormant, neglected, forgotten...comes fruit that is sweet on the tongue and cool on the lips.  From pain and loss and violence comes the transparency that shares our truest selves with others.  From trouble, conflict and ruin comes our initiation into the brotherhood of humanity...our rite of passage into the authentic and believable.  Out of the depths of the price that was paid comes the passionate conviction of things that would've remained unnoticed and unimportant.

We talk about the "Passions of the Christ"...but in the ancient text, "passion" was actually translated to mean "suffering"...so it is the sufferings of the Christ that are so explicitly portrayed in the movie we have championed as our own.

Now that we've defined that phrase more clearly, you'll find that scripture has a lot to say on that topic:

Romans 8:17
"Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory."

2 Corinthians 1:5
"For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows."

Philippians 3:10
"I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death"

1 Peter 1:11
"...trying to find out the time and circumstances to which the Spirit of Christ in them was pointing when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the glories that would follow."

1 Peter 4:12-13
"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you.  But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed."

1 Peter 5:1
"To the elders among you, I appeal as a fellow elder, a witness of Christ's sufferings and one who also will share in the glory to be revealed"

So it is not suffering left on it's own...but suffering shared with Christ...a suffering that, in the end, reveals glory...His glory.  It's a sober thought, but one I share gladly:  Not "if" you suffer, but "when" you do...may the beauty of His glory be seen in you.

 Beautiful Suffering...may you bear it well.

"Deep unspeakable suffering
may well be called a baptism,
a regeneration, the initiation
into a new state." 
~ George Elliot

Tap Root

Today's lesson is on taproots.  Here's what Wikipedia has to say about taproots.

The taproot is an enlarged somewhat straight to tapering plant root that grows vertically downward. It forms a center from which other roots sprout laterally.  Plants with taproots are difficult to transplant. The presence of a taproot is why dandelions are hard to uproot — the top is pulled, but the long taproot stays in the ground, and re-sprouts.  A taproot system contrasts to a fibrous root system with many branched roots.

Most trees begin life with a taproot, but after one to a few years the main root system changes to a wide-spreading fibrous root system with mainly horizontal growing surface roots and only a few vertical, deep anchoring roots. A typical mature tree has a root system that extends horizontally in all directions as far as the tree is tall or more, but well over 95% of the roots are in the top depths of the soil.

Many taproots are modified into storage organs.  The tap roots transfer rainwater from the surface to reservoirs deep underground and redistribute water… increases photosynthesis and the evaporation of water… by 40 percent in the dry season.  During the wet season, these plants can store as much as 10 percent of the annual precipitation as deep as 43 feet underground, to be tapped into during the dry months, with tree roots acting like pipes to allow water to shift around much faster than it could otherwise percolate through the soil.

Which gets me to thinkin:  I want me a taproot.  :)  I want my life to have a big 'ole honkin' tap root runnin' 50 feet deep, down into the ground.  I want to be hard to uproot, and when removal is attempted and deemed successful, I want to sprout back to life again.  I want my taproot to be so grounded that the secondary roots can spread out to extend even further than the tree of me will ever reach.  I want that taproot to reach the deepest underground reservoirs, supplying essential water to my soul in the dry months to come.

A taproot.  What a concept.
Yep...I gotta get me one of those!

Even These

 Luke 12:22-25

And He said to His disciples, 

"For this reason I say to you, 

do not worry about your life, 

as to what you will eat; 

nor for your body, 

as to what you will put on.  

For life is more than food, 

and the body more than clothing.
Consider the ravens, 

for they neither sow nor reap; 

they have no storeroom nor barn, 

and yet God feeds them; 

how much more valuable 

you are than the birds!  

And which of you by worrying 

can add a single hour to his life's span?...."

Reflection

We used to do these types of paintings in grade school, I know.  But I couldn't think of anything that better represented this idea of reflection that I have rolling around in my head.  There are other examples that I could've used, like the reflection of the surrounding trees and sky upon a lake, for instance.  It would've pleased the eye, but it somehow loses the intensity of what I was feeling, because the reflection is susceptible to distortion from the breeze that moves across it, or the animals that come and go around it.

No, the stirring in my heart was for something more direct, more specific, more true.  What I love about this creative exercise is that there is a total randomness to the way it will ultimately turn out, because as you apply pressure, the blobs of color will move and mix and alter shape.  But there's a preciseness to the process that I also love.  It has something to do with the direct transfer that hits the nail on the head for me.

We were never intended to be a distorted reflection of God's glory...like a bad photo copy or a t-shirt that has a blurry imprint.  We were meant to receive a direct transfer of it...a transfer that breaks the boundaries of our own frailty and weakness.  A glory that is undefendable in human terms.  Crazy as it may be, scripture even calls it "ever-increasing" glory...and quite frankly I KNOW that doesn't come from me!  It can only come from direct transfer.

Funny thing about this painting:  I giggled like a school girl the whole time I was doing it...and when I was done, I wanted to do a hundred more!

Funny thing about His glory:  it feels exactly like that.

2 Corinthians 3:18
"And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit."

Worry

 

Matthew 13:22

The one who received the seed that fell among the thorns is the man who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke it, making it unfruitful.

__________________________________________________

"Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble...
been doggin' my soul since the day I was born
Worry, worry, worry, worry..
just will not seem to leave my mind alone."

~ Ray Lamontagne

Mercy Flows Down

This painting is a little more abstract than some, but the imagery in my head is still really strong when I think about the title of this piece.  I remember as a kid, when we'd go to the mall that in lots of the stores at that time, there would be these lighted oil fountains that I was just mesmerized with.  They all looked similar in that they were usually bronze or gold, had some Greek figure in the center, and they had nylon filament strung up and down, encircling the central figure.  From holes at the top where the filament was strung would drip oil...and as the oil flowed down the strands, the light would reflect off of it and it would look something like slow-moving rain.  I'd stand there for hours, it seemed, and it never stopped dripping that colorless oil. 

I connected that memory to the image in my head that kept coming 'round when I started contemplating the concept of God's mercy.  I was thinking about how beautifully it is strung amidst the events and experiences of our everyday life.  Sometimes in unexpected places, but always consistent...like that fountain that so entranced me when I was a kid.  The chords were strung tight, but the oil would run right down, coating each strand...slowly, drip by drip.

God's promise to us is that His mercy is new every morning.  Not just when we want it.  Not just when we need it.  But it's there, slowly moving down the tightly strung chords of our lives...coating each and every strand.  And when His light catches it just right, the reflection is mesmerizing.

Leave it to a 40-year-old memory in a department store at the mall to show me something about God's character.  You just never know where He's going to show you a new part of Himself...and I really love that!

Romans 9:15-17 - 

"'I will have mercy on whom I have mercy,

and I will have compassion 

on whom I have compassion.'
 It does not, therefore, depend on man's 

desire or effort, but on God's mercy.
 For the Scripture (even) says to Pharaoh:
"I raised you up for this very purpose,
that I might display my power in you 

and that my name might be 

proclaimed in all the earth."

Poured Out

Spent the past two days serving alongside a bunch of liars, dreamers and misfits, as we transformed a house that should've been plowed to the ground into a home that was beautiful to the eyes,  hope-bearing to the soul of the woman who lives there, and a physical representation of God's promises to her, His covering over her and His love for her.

We were His hands and feet.  Not for our own accolades or glory...but as living testimony of His ongoing renovation in our own lives.

Exhausted.  Aching.  Weepy.  Spent.  Completely poured out...and yet, it was good to the last drop.

This story is not over.  I haven't even begun to tell it.  But for tonight, my weary body will stop here,  resting in the truth that there is Justice for the needy...and the realization that Hope has taken up residence in Miss Pat's home tonight. 

It's my prayer that He stays there for a long, long time to come.

An Invitation

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I love getting invitations in the mail.  It's an opportunity to experience something that I otherwise wouldn't get to be a part of.  I love how the invitation comes unexpectedly in the mail...being heavier and fatter than the other letters, and usually made of finer paper.  It instantly commands my attention, signifying that this is something containing information of great importance.  There will be dates and places and directives included...each detail providing greater understanding of the event to come, and greater anticipation of the festivities ahead.

Sometimes I think we lose sight of the Great Invitation that's been sent to us.  We get bogged down in life's business and distracted by it's complexities...and we forget that we've been invited to the Main Event.  It's difficult, because this isn't a one-shot party-now-pay-later kind of event.  It's way, way bigger than that.  It's an event that was intended to take place throughout our lifetime.  Kind of like an "All Access" Pass.  The invitation itself is a simple one:  "Draw near."

We may not realize it, but most of us have invites laying around our houses.  Some of us have more than one...and most of ours are collecting way more dust than we'd be comfortable admitting.  They're heavier and fatter than most...usually printed on finer paper.  Whenever I pick mine up, it instantly commands my attention, signifying that this is something containing information of great importance.  Found among the pages, there are dates and places and directives included...each detail providing greater understanding of the event to come, and greater anticipation of the festivities ahead.

The Great Invitation has gone out to everyone.  "Draw near."

How will you RSVP?

Psalm 100:3-5 

Know that the LORD is God.  

It is he who made us, and we are his; 

we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving 

and his courts with praise; 

give thanks to him and praise his name.

For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; 

his faithfulness continues through all generations.

Breathe Peace

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Isaiah 26:3
"The steadfast of mind
You will keep in perfect peace, 
because he trusts in You."

When we had cable, my husband and I loved watching the show, “The Dog Whisperer”.  John has such a love for animals of all kinds, that I’ve proclaimed him an official animal whisperer.  It doesn’t matter if it’s on TV, in a movie or commercial...or in the great outdoors...any encounter with an animal leads at some point to a sparkle in his eyes and the phrase, “I wanna pet it.”

The main reason we loved watching Cesar on his show was the way he would lovingly alter a pet’s bad behavior.  It was pet psychology at it’s finest.  But what made it most enjoyable was how closely the same principles applied to the members of the Greater Species.

One episode in particular left a lasting impact on the Hogan household, for both pets and people.  In this show, some dog owners were having difficulty walking their dog.  It would seemingly be just fine, until they encountered another dog along the way.  Their otherwise docile dog would do a 180 and become the Jekkyl to the Hyde.  Their precious pet became Devil Dog, Hound from Hell...with lips curled back, teeth exposed, growling, barking and drooling.  It had the owners baffled and befuddled.

Enter stage right:  Cesar Millan, Dog Whisperer.  In typical fashion, he took the dog on a walk, assessed his behavior, and made his recommendations for “treatment”.  But this routine caught our attention because it seemed a bit odd.  He took the owners on a walk with the dog again, but this time whenever they encountered another dog...regardless of  whether it was on route or behind a fence....he had them make their dog lay down in view of the other dog.  They would stroke its coat, pat its belly and rub its ears...all the while Cesar’s goal was to get the dog to experience a moment of total peace in the presence of it’s “enemy”.  You see, the dog was simply reacting out of fear.  It was feeling threatened by the unknown...and was going to kill rather than be killed.

We have an older black lab, Mazi, that has the sweetest temperament overall, but is an “Alpha” (dominant) when it comes to strange dogs.  Unusual for a female, but like most of us females, she came to us with some “issues” of her own.  John found her on a greenway trail, so we know very little about her past history...however, there is a sense that she isn’t quite comfortable trusting other dogs right off the bat.  In spite of that self-protectiveness because she was abandoned...she makes it very clear every day just how grateful she is that he claimed her for his own.

So the next time we walked the neighborhood, we thought we’d try out Cesar’s technique on Mazi.  Each time she came to an animal that caused her to start that aggressive ramp-up, we had her lay down in full view of the “enemy”.  We comforted her and spoke gentle affirmations to her.  Time and time again, we went through the same sequence of actions, until our walking route was complete.  Well, what do you know...the next time we went walking, she didn’t even acknowledge any of the other pets!  In fact, she almost snubbed them with her “I could take you or leave you” attitude!

As I was standing over her in the process of our “rehab” walk, the twenty-third Psalm came to mind.  “You make me lie down in green pastures”...“I will fear no evil, Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me”...”You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies”...“You lead me beside the quiet waters.”  It was such a powerful picture of what that scripture meant.  

In the face of danger, death and harm, we can be at peace.  In causing us to lay down in full view of our enemies, God takes the fear away and allows us to come and go in their presence...eventually without them even showing up on our radar.

So the next time you feel yourself rising up to self-protect or defend, try listening to the comforting words of the Master and laying down in the presence of your enemy.  It will feel completely uncomfortable and unnatural at first, but with repetition it can be cultivated into an empowering response.  You feel less stressed.  Your heart is less fearful of getting hurt, and you become less reactive.  In turn, you feel more peace.  Your heart is open to new and different things, and you become more responsive.

Laying down in the presence of your enemies.  Who’d have thought that a dog training show would impart such profound Truth!?  It’s made a permanent change in our dog’s life...maybe it could make a permanent change in yours...

No More

I've heard that long after prisoners have actually been set free, there can still remain the phantom feeling of shackles around their wrists and ankles.  The mind and senses are struggling to accept the change, and therefore continue to reproduce the sensation of bondage even though the chains are not there.

The same is true with the issues of the heart.  Sin can take a devastating toll on our lives, oftentimes convincing us that we'll never be free from the power of its grasp.  Even the restraints that held us captive take on a seductive familiarity.  We may not know what true freedom feels like, but at least we know the comfort of our own slavery.  Twisted perspective, but true.

For some freedom can be an uncomfortable, scary place that holds no solid answers, but lots and lots of questions. 

"Will it last?  Am I finally free?  What if I can't resist it?  Who am I without it?  What does real freedom even look like?  Is there something wrong with me?"

 It's intimidating at best...and sometimes it feels safer to turn tail and run back to the thing that accepts us, rather than brave the harsh realities of the life that's so publicly rejected us.

...and then sometimes...it's just best to hide ourselves behind the armor of our Defender and shout over His shoulder, "YOU DON'T HAVE ME ANY MORE!"

He will fight for you.

John 8:35-36   "Now a slave has no permanent place in the family, but a son belongs to it forever.  So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."

Worship God

A friend of mine is a "Basketball Coach" in China.  She holds "Basketball Camps" for the youth there, and travels with a team of "Basketball Players" that go into the villages and cities to share the "good news" about the "sport of basketball".  That's her story, and she's sticking to it.

On one of her furloughs to the States, we met for lunch and our conversations centered around the symbol hanging around her neck on a silver chain.  I've always loved Asian symbols...it must be the graphic designer in me.

She had fascinating info to share.  She said that the entire Chinese alphabet (in graphic symbols, not letters) can be used to tell the Good News...from Adam to the Crucifixion.  How crazy is that?!  An atheistic country....and their alphabet has God all through it.  She showed me some symbols and told me the stories...I was simply blown away.

It still makes me giggle a bit to think how high and mighty we think we are.  How autonomous.  How self-empowered.   As a human race, we're crowding God out of our lives at an alarming rate...and yet, embedded within the ancient symbols of the Chinese alphabet...dating all the way back to 1200 BC...is the reminder that whether they want Him or acknowledge Him or reject Him, God has always been there.  And He's not going anywhere.

Which led me to the 4 symbols as my heart's only response to that realization: 

崇拜上帝  "Worship God"

Redemption

A friend of mine, Carrie Marshall, just released her newest CD project entitled, "Redemption".  I loved getting to hang out with her in the process of pulling her cover design work together...not to mention the title that she had chosen.  We got to meet up at Starbucks several times, and over lattes would banter back and forth about her vision for the project.  I always left our times together encouraged and somehow more okay with where things were in my own life.

But like all of us, even my client-friend Carrie Marshall has a back story. It must have been a part of that resonating I felt whenever I spent time with her.  She didn't share a lot about her trials, but she shared a lot because of her trials.  There's a steadiness to her spirituality that lacks the high-gloss-unaffected-by-reality polish worn by a lot of Christians these days.  When you're with Carrie, you know without really knowing, that she's been affected by life.  She's been bumped and bruised, and she has worn places that expose a little more of her soul than others.  After only a little while, you get a sense that she's grappled with her faith a bit and yet she's come out on the other side quietly confident in Who and what she believes.

You see, during the last five years Carrie and her family endured several heartbreaks...from the loss of friends to betrayals...a death in the family...and health issues for both her husband and herself. Then just compound it all with the stress of raising their three small children in a new environment without the support of family nearby!  Carrie found herself in such a lonely place...and she knew her faith was being challenged in a whole new way.  She experienced doubts, fears and despair...and God?  Well He just seemed to be silent during this most difficult time.

The thing about redemption that's hard is:  it requires a certain kind of death.  A death to our ideal of what a particular thing should be.  A death to our lofty ideas or overblown dreams.  A death to our sense of entitlement to a better-than-ordinary life.  A death to our belief of how our life should play out.  A death to the control we strive to maintain over our lives.

Redemption is born out of death...and yet it produces freedom.  It compensates for faults and flaws.  It regains possession in exchange for payment.  It buys back that which was lost.  Redemption is about far more than just the salvation story.  It's about all of the stories in our every day lives.  It's about us giving up control, and getting back freedom.  It's about us selling our twisted ideas and flawed perspectives, and having God buy them back...without the weakness and distortion.  It's about all of the evil and sin and ugliness we see day after day, and yet experiencing God's transforming grace that makes the evil thing holy, the sin is replaced with forgiveness, and the ugliness is turned into beauty.

Just like the caterpillar cocoons itself against the harsh realities of this world, and dies...only to be reborn as a breathtakingly beautiful butterfly.  A completely new life is ahead.  New experiences.  New ways of doing things (I mean, did you check out those wings?!)  No longer will it be a life of eeking by and crawling from place to place...but using those magnificent wings to fly. 

It's the Great Exchange of an old life for a new one.  Losing our life, only to find it.  Regaining possession by completely giving over control.  Experiencing rebirth by embracing death.  It's beautifully tragic in ways that only the mysteries of God can be. Who would dare believe it to be true?

You and I would.  Because we've seen it happen.  We've known it's power.  We've experienced the transformation in our own lives.  We're all living proof that redemption is real.

So spread those wings, my friend, and fly...

A Beautiful Complicated Mess

I close my eyes when I lay down at night
I shut my mind and listen for what's inside
And what I hear is a complicated noise
And what I fear is being alone

It's such a beautiful complicated mess
I've no idea where it's gonna take me next
It's such a beautiful complicated mess

You think you have your path planned out
And when it fails, all you're left with is your doubt
I'm gonna try to get my priorities right
And do my thing while at the same time try
to find a Love that will make me whole inside

It's such a beautiful complicated mess
I've no idea where it's gonna take me next
It's such a beautiful complicated mess

Listen to Debra Arlyn's song here:

http://new.music.yahoo.com/debra-arlyn/tracks/complicated-mess--177512783

Well, that about sums it up for me.  I'm such a beautiful complicated mess...the more I think I have it all together, the more He unravels me and shows me just how little I have together at all.  And I'm reminded again and again that He is the only Love that can make me whole inside.  Everything else is a cheap, disappointing counterfeit that will leave me empty and aching for more.

A Vessel He Can Use

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God Can Use Us All

~ Author unknown

Sometimes do you ever wonder why God called YOU to do something for HIM? There are many reasons why God shouldn’t have called you, or me, or anyone else for that matter...but God doesn’t wait until we are perfect to call us. Think of all those people God used. You’re in good company if you think you aren’t ready for God to use:

Abraham lied.
Sarah laughed at God’s promises.
Moses stuttered.
David’s armor didn’t fit.
John Mark was rejected by Paul.
Timothy had ulcers.
Hosea’s wife was a prostitute.
Amos’ only training was in the school of fig-tree pruning.
Jacob was a liar.
David had an affair.
Solomon was too rich.
Jesus was too poor.
Abraham was too old.
David was too young.
Peter was afraid of death.
Lazarus was dead.
John was self-righteous.
Naomi was a widow.
Paul was a murderer.
So was Moses.
Jonah ran from God.
Miriam was a gossip.
Gideon and Thomas both doubted.
Jeremiah was a bullfrog…no really, he was depressed and suicidal.
Elijah was burned out.
John the Baptist was a loudmouth.
Martha was a worry-wart.
Mary may have been lazy.
Samson had long hair.
Noah got drunk.
Did I mention Moses had a short fuse?
So did Peter, Paul and lots of folks.

But God doesn’t hire and fire like most bosses because He’s more like our Dad than a boss. He doesn’t look at financial gain or loss. He’s not prejudiced or partial, nor sassy and brassy, nor deaf to our cry. He’s not blind to our faults. His gifts to us are free. We could do wonderful things for others and still not be wonderful ourselves.

Satan says, “You’re not worthy!”

Jesus says, “So what? I AM.”

Satan looks back and sees our mistakes.

God looks back and sees the Cross.

Hearts Aflame

"Fac ut ardeat cor meum 
in amando Christum Deum."

("Let my heart burn with love for Christ my Lord".)

From the Gregorian Chant "Stabat Mater"

The grieving Mother stood weeping
beside the cross where her Son was hanging

Through her weeping soul, compassionate
and grieving, a sword passed.

O how sad and afflicted was that blessed
Mother of the Only-begotten!

  Who mourned and grieved, the pious Mother,
looking at the torment of her glorious Child

Who is the person who would not weep
seeing the Mother of Christ in such agony?

Who would not be able to feel compassion
on beholding Christ's Mother suffering with her Son?

For the sins of his people she saw Jesus
in torment and subjected to the scourge.

She saw her sweet offspring dying,
forsaken, while He gave up his spirit

O Mother, fountain of love, make me feel
the power of sorrow, that I may grieve with you

Grant that my heart may burn with love of Christ my Lord, 
that I may greatly please Him

Holy Mother, grant that the wounds
of the Crucified drive deep into my heart.

That of your wounded Son, who so deigned
to suffer for me, I may share the pain

Let me sincerely weep with you,
bemoan the Crucified, for as long as I live

To stand beside the cross with you,
and to join you in your weeping, this I desire

Chosen Virgin of virgins, be not bitter with me,
let me weep with thee

 Grant that I may bear the death of Christ,
share his Passion, and commemorate His wounds

 Let me be wounded with his wounds,
let me be inebriated by the cross and your Son's blood

Lest I be set afire by flames of death, Virgin,
may I be defended by you, on the day of judgement

  Christ, when it is time to pass away,
grant that I may come to the palm of victory

When my body dies, grant that to my soul
is given the glory of paradise. Amen

Soul & Spirit

 Hebrews 4:12-13 - For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. Nothing in all creation is hidden from God's sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.

soul |sōl|  (noun)
the spiritual or immaterial part of a human being
a person's moral or emotional nature or sense of identity

spirit |ˈspirit| (noun)
the nonphysical part of a person that is the seat of emotions and character; the soul

I don’t know about you, but this doesn’t help a bit.  I’ve heard many religious speakers do a much better job of defining the contrasting differences between the soul and the spirit.  But to be quite honest, the above definitions are typical of how I feel about said separation.  In the philosophical, it can be made clear as day.  But in the living of it, I must admit, I don’t experience as much clarity as I’d like.

I was thinking about it one day when I was making gravy.  Weird, I know...but by now, don’t you expect it just a little from me?!  No, really...I was taking the drippings out of the roasting pan...perfect as a base for home made gravy.  As my momma taught me, in true Southern style, you drain the liquid fat off the top, and use just the dark amber drippings below.

But here’s where things get tricky.  There is a fusing that happens somewhere in the roasting process that creates a substance that is both drippings and fat. It’s not one or the other...it’s both at the same time.  Which leaves me stuck in a dilemma every time:  do I use the fused substance...or throw it out with the fat?  It’d be crazy insane for me to try to make my way through the fused foreign substance...dividing up the two...it’s take way too much time, and all of my patience.  Truth be told, I don’t know that it’s even possible.

Then the thought came to me:  that’s exactly what happens to me in the soul & spirit deliberation.  I’m pretty good at knowing when I’m moving in the Spirit.  I can feel God’s pleasure and sense His presence.  I’m fully aware when my attitudes and actions are lined up with His heart.  Even as I’m writing about it, the tenderness of those kind of moments is almost tangible.

I also, however, have a clear understanding of when my flesh is at work.  I know all too well when my emotions have taken over...the mutiny they execute on my spirit, and the havoc that they create.  Once my soul is in charge, it wields selfishness, impatience and pride like daggers...somehow hoping to self-comfort and self-protect.

But then there’s this fusing thing that takes place in life, creating a substance that is both soul and spirit.  It’s not one or the other...it’s both at the same time.  It’d be crazy insane for me to try to make my way through the fused foreign substance...striving to be all spirit, without the influence of the emotions or my own unique identity...it’s take way too much time, and all of my patience.  Truth be told, I don’t believe that it’s even possible on my own strength.

That’s where the mysterious, miraculous comes in.  It’s the magical quality of the Word of God.  Hebrews 4 describes it as a double-edged sword.  It’s greatest impact isn’t in being wielded around as a weapon.  It’s greatest impact comes when its used like the knife of a Master Surgeon...cutting through the mess we’ve made of things...and getting down to that fused foreign substance of soul and spirit.  Crazy as it is, it can even divide between the two.

You know what it’s like to be under the influence of the Word.  You hear a certain phrase, latch on to a particular thought...and for some reason it lands in that special place in your heart.  The place where soul and spirit are one and the same. But in this instance, something of the soul is reclaimed and joined to spirit.  The surgery is complete.  An inward change has taken place.

It’s in these moments...in the ministry of the Word to my soul...that I’m so thankful that it is “living and breathing, and sharper than any two-edged sword”.  I’m glad it’s not a big neanderthal club that I’m beaten over the head with.  I’m grateful for it’s precision and accuracy.  I’m blessed by it’s lasting impact on my life.

I’m so relieved to know that the funky fused foreign substance found in the deepest parts of me are not too much for the Master Surgeon.  He can make His way through the thoughts and attitudes of my heart with ease.  It’s one of the things He does best.

In the Psalms David proclaims, “Oh how I love your word.”
Yeah, I get that.

Fidelity

 

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fidelity | fəˈdelətē (noun)
faithfulness to a person, cause, or belief,
demonstrated by continuing loyalty and support

It was a funny lesson for me in having patience with the creative process.  I finished this painting...and knew that it was the painting I was supposed to do that day.  But what I was frustrated by was the lack of any meaningful backstory.  So for one of the first times in this 100 Days adventure, I posted without writing anything, but the definition for the word fidelity.

Fastforward to Saturday night.  My best friend and I were on our way to a fall festival, complete with campfire, hayrides, hot cider and smores!  But the directions she'd written down had a bit of a funky glitch in that the first highway we needed to transition on to ctually existed on the opposite side of town and had nothing to do with our trip out to this farm.  So needless to say, in ditching the first directive and finding our own way with the help of a map, we arrived as most people were packing up and preparing to go home.

But to our delight, there was still plenty of goodies to eat...many more smores to be made...multiple runs for the hayride tractor...and even more space to sit and relax by the glowing fire.  Conversation was easy and entertaining as we warmed ourselves.  But I found myself distracted by the topic of conversation happening in a circle of men standing next to us.

Two grown sons of the family hosting the whole affair were talking about the campfire.  Come to find out that the enormous logs in the fire were actual cross-sections from the base of an old elm tree. They'd had quite a time with the logs, so much so that the pile had been sitting there, out in the weather for over 2 years.  

The first issue they had was the wood itself.  It wouldn't split.  They tried chopping it by hand.  It would't budge.  They put it in a hydrolic splitter, and the machine stopped dead cold on the wood.  It seized right up without leaving a mark. They even left it exposed to the elements, hoping that it would begin to split naturally on its own.  No luck.  The wood, they say, was elm.  But this elm was like vines that had twisted and fused together so that it was simply impossible to cut apart.

The second issue was the fire.  They said that the first time they used these logs for a campfire, they'd thrown dozens of gallons of water on it to try and extinquish it, but it just wouldn't go out.  It even rained on it...but it still kept burning.  They walked by it day after day, doing their normal farm work, but it ended up taking days for the fire to finally extinguish itself.

It was quite a moment for me. Because here I was, privey to a conversation that I would've never been a part of, unless I'd been this late.  And yet, as soon as the stories came out of their mouths, I knew it was the back story to this painting!  At the same time, I also began to see a beautiful picture of what God intends for us to be in relationship with one another.

He means for us to be vines so tightly woven together that we actually fuse into one strong and solid tree.  So strong that even the force of a hydrolic splitter can't separate us.  So solid that our fire will never go out.  With such warmth radiating from us that people are drawn to us, mezmerized by our beauty and comforted against the bitter cold that waits for them just beyond the campfire's edge.

That elm tree was such a touching representation of the Body of Christ.  You see, we are all wounded and weak, but together we can be mighty.  Even though we often feel alone in this cold, cruel world...if we love each other well, our hearts can burn with a flame that will never be put out.

Fidelity...our love for eachother demonstrated by continuing loyalty and support.  In Latin, "fidelitas" (steadfast, faithful; confidants, faithful friends; faithfully; securely, without danger; confidence, boldness, trust, reliance, belief, faith; to create confidence, cause belief; to be loyal, bona fide; in good faith, with sincerity; credibility, actuality, fulfillment; assurance, word of honor, to keep a promise of protection, safe-conduct; faithful protection, constant help.)

In lifestyle, "The Body of Christ. The Church."

Broken & Mended

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My husband, John, broke his hand around this time last year...which is of great enough concern for your average person, but when said person is a professional drummer by trade, it can be a nerve-racking experience.

After a long and involved trip to the emergency room, we asked for referrals from friends and found one of the best hand surgeons in Charlotte to examine the damage.  He and John discussed the wisest course of action...taking particular care to minimize further trauma to the hand and avert the onset of arthritis.  His encouragement:  if John let him do the surgery he recommended and then followed his recommendations for after-care, John's hand could become stronger than it even was before he got injured.

Prior to surgery, John had researched his injury on the internet and went to his appointments with a notebook filled with print outs of definitions, medical illustrations and recovery regimens.  He very quickly became a student of every piece of information related to the hand and wrist.  He took notes during visits with the doctor, so that he could remember the technical names for all the various bones and their relationship to each other.  He even sweet talked the nurses into giving him copies of all of his x-rays, so that he could put them in his book.  You see, the more he learned, the less he feared...and his greatest fear was that he'd never be able to play the same way again.

Sadly enough, when it comes to matters of the heart, it can be a whole different story.  Too often, the more we know, the more we have to fear.  We've all had our hearts broken, that's for sure.  None of us, not one, has escaped the rupturing of that blood-pumping organ at least once in our lives.  And for some of us, it felt as though we'd never make it through to surgery.  It hurt too much.  The damage went far too deep.  The fallout cost way too much...and our greatest fear is that we will never be able to love the same way again.

But if you find yourself broken and damaged, I know (and a lot of my friends know) a Surgeon who's the best in His field.  He's got the bedside manners of a gentleman.  He works with laser-like accuracy, taking particular care to minimize further trauma to your heart and avert the onset of "coronary arthritis".  He's a Master at what He does...in fact, if you let him do the surgery He recommends and then follow His recommendation for after-care, you'll probably come back even stronger than you were before you got hurt.

By the way, John went through with the surgery.  Three long pins were used to keep the broken bones in place while they healed.  It looked scary, hurt pretty bad, and recovery took longer than he would've liked.  But he's back playing drums again...even stronger than before...with a renewed appreciation for the gift,  a respect for his own humanity, and with total trust in the One who makes all broken things whole again.

Psalm 34:18 "The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Red Moon Rising

infatuation | inˈfa ch oōˌā sh ən
unreasonable, all absorbing passion

Charlotte's 24-7 Prayer Room is hosting "Infatuation", 30 days with specific time set aside each day to draw near to God and lavish on Him our deepest affections.  We not only want more of Him, we want to be more in love with Him. We take this time to ask for both. 

The coordinator for the event wrote this devotional thought to begin the month-long pursuit:

"It was a red moon that captured my attention one night with the swift and gentle voice of God saying, “Romance me”.  Sometimes called a harvest moon for its typical appearance in the fall, to us who are waiting and watching for Jesus, this red moon brings to remembrance this text from Acts where Peter quotes Joel’s prophecy:
 

In the last days, God says,
      I will pour out my Spirit on all people.
   Your sons and daughters will prophesy,
      your young men will see visions,
      your old men will dream dreams.
 Even on my servants, both men and women,
      I will pour out my Spirit in those days,
      and they will prophesy.
 I will show wonders in the heaven above
      and signs on the earth below,
      blood and fire and billows of smoke.
 The sun will be turned to darkness
      and the moon to blood
      before the coming of 

the great and glorious day of the Lord.
 And everyone who calls
      on the name of the Lord will be saved.

 

See, this idea of a red moon proclaims a time when God will pour out His Spirit. But more so than just symbolism of the times, I believe it heralds by its mere color, an allegiance shift. 

 

Revelation 21:23 says that 

Jesus himself is the light of the city of God. 

What does this text in Acts say? That the sun will go dark and the moon to blood red?  What could cause such an issue? Could it be the luminous glory of Christ making pail the two created lights?

When we turn our attention to Christ and ask Him for more, something transpires. Our desires are changed, our former cares dissolve, and our whole lives become focused on God and His people. So may these thirty days be the beginning of our personal “suns and moons” growing dim and darkening as Christ illuminates in the middle of our worlds.  

Let it begin Lord….

Flying First Class

A year ago my mom was unexpectedly hospitalized with suspected blood clots on her heart due to irregular heart rhythms.  It was quite a scare to the entire family, and each of us children made a speedy trip home to be by her side while she went through testing and treatment in the hospital.

John and I had gone through our own year of injuries and unexpected surgeries and resulting job losses...so this new crisis was almost unbearable.  We were emotionally tapped AND financially tapped...and we had no good idea as to how we were going to get me to Arkansas to be with my mom.  But as always, God moved on our behalf.

Just hours after posting a prayer request for my mom on Facebook, one of her past kindergarten students saw the post and responded with great concern and practical generosity.  He traveled a lot for work and had a bazillion air miles saved up...but instead of using some of those miles on an exotic vacation for himself, he offered to buy me a much-needed round-trip ticket.  It was such a beautiful way to experience the Body of Christ in living and breathing fashion.

As I checked in at the service desk, I noticed that my seat on the plane was near the front, so I assumed that it was probably just a small aircraft.  But what I didn't realize was that my seating for this particular leg of the trip was in FIRST CLASS!  I'd never ridden in first class before!  I didn't know what to expect.  I didn't know how to act.  I'd only observed from afar as the flight attendants doted on the obviously important and famous people who sat there.

Giddy like a school girl, I found my seat and instantly noticed that my knees weren't jammed up against my chest...they actually had room to move around!  Next was the wide, leather seating...so lusciously comfy that I vowed to never leave the plane.  Then came the offering of cocktails  BEFORE take off...and as many snacks as you felt like you needed.  They seriously let you take as many as you liked and there were so many kinds to choose from that I almost couldn't decide!

"Are you comfortable?  Would you like a magazine?  Blanket or pillow?  Headset? Would you like me to refresh your face-sized margarita?"  (No, no, no...now I'm mixing my stories up!)  Next thing I was expecting was for some impeccably-dressed man to sit down across the aisle from me and offer me a million dollar zero interest loan with no payment schedule and no penalties...ever!  My head was swimming in the ease and accessibility of it all.  Before I could even think it, it was already being offered to me...and with such style!

Then the thought hit me:  "I don't deserve any of this!  I don't fly first class!  I didn't even buy this ticket...it was given to me!!!"  I was suddenly very aware of my surroundings...and I began to feel a little awkward and out of place. 

And at that moment I felt God lean in and whisper:  "Seem familiar?!"

As it typically goes in these situations, the light bulb went on...but more like one of those huge sweeping beam lights they use at grand opening events...you know, like the Bat Man beam?!  Anyway, I got it and I got it good!

It's like the whole coming into relationship with Jesus thing.  We're usually in some sort of trouble, and we don't have a way out of it on our own.  Then he pays the price for our ticket...which is cool enough on its own.  But then we find out that not only do we get to ride on the plane...we get to ride first class.  Which opens up an unbelievable and never-before-experienced set of benefits and opportunities that we never knew existed...or if we did know, then we'd only observed them from afar and never really gotten to experience them for ourselves.  And here's the kicker:  we didn't deserve ANY of it.  We definitely hadn't earned a seat in first class!  Heck, we didn't even buy our own ticket...it was given to us!!! 

Yeah, salvation's a lot like that...and yet it's about so much more than getting out of trouble or getting from one place to another.  It's about the beverage service and the snacks and the headset and the blanket and pillow...and the leg room! 

We so often forget that salvation IS about so much more than simply NOT going to hell.  Many of us hold on to that one way ticket to heaven so hard that we choke the life right out of it!  We get saved and then eek through whatever miserable life comes our way, just waiting for the day the trumpet sounds and we get to leave this wretched world to be with Jesus.

We forget that "membership has it's privileges".  We forget all of God's benefits, and how they can impact and change our lives.  We forget that He has equipped us with giftings that could transform this world, if we'd just use them.  We forget that He's empowered us to do so much more than to just eek out a miserable life, and then go home to be with Jesus.  We were meant to be salt and light.  We were meant to represent relationship, forgiveness, restoration, redemption, healing and peace.  Our lives were meant to bear testimony of His great concern over our condition...and the lavishly generous ways He responds in order to help.

Flying first class...yep, I can honestly say that there's nothing like it!  It got a little ugly when the security guards came and crow-barred me out of my seat.  Aaaand a little embarrassing when they dragged me, screaming like a school girl, up the ramp way and over to baggage claim.  I just had to ask myself, "What happened to 'Fly the Friendly Skies'?!" (Okay, I didn't really scream...and there weren't any security guards...and no crow-barring or dragging.)  But I was ever-so-sad when the flight was over and my time in first class was done.

But I think a funny thing happened to me on that trip.  Because now, I'm convinced that they could seat me in the jump seats next to the bathroom stalls, and I'd still feel like I was flying first class...on the inside, where it counts!  Yeah, salvation's kind of like that, too.

Psalm 103:1-5

Praise the LORD, O my soul;
       all my inmost being, praise his holy name.

Praise the LORD, O my soul,
       and forget not all his benefits-

who forgives all your sins
       and heals all your diseases,

who redeems your life from the pit
       and crowns you with love and compassion,

who satisfies your desires with good things
       so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.

Bear Fruit

story to come on Monday

John 15:1-8

"I am the Real Vine and my Father is the Farmer. He cuts off every branch of me that doesn't bear grapes. And every branch that is grape-bearing he prunes back so it will bear even more. You are already pruned back by the message I have spoken. 

"Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you. In the same way that a branch can't bear grapes by itself but only by being joined to the vine, you can't bear fruit unless you are joined with me.

 "I am the Vine, you are the branches. When you're joined with me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant. Separated, you can't produce a thing. Anyone who separates from me is deadwood, gathered up and thrown on the bonfire. But if you make yourselves at home with me and my words are at home in you, you can be sure that whatever you ask will be listened to and acted upon. This is how my Father shows who he is—when you produce grapes, when you mature as my disciples.

No More Fear

I don't know what it is, but I've never been a good at handling horror movies.  For me, it's very hard to separate between "Hollywood" and reality.  I guess part of my problem is that I kind of live inside the movie for the full 2 hours...but then I also tend to take it with me from the theater.  Even after the movie is well over, the fear is still with me.  I just can't seem to shake it.

I can still remember scary movies that I watched when I was just a little tyke...and yet, they are as clear in my memory as if I'd just watched them last week.  Strong imagery.  Intense fear.  Laaaaaaasting impressions.

I guess, then, that it's no big surprise to anyone that Halloween has never been one of my favorite holidays.  Now I don't pretend to be all so spiritual about it that I'd debate it's rightness or wrongness from a Christian perspective.  Some great Christian people love to celebrate it.  But I am very easily creeped out, and the idea of walking around decked out like a character from "Night of the Living Dead" doesn't exactly sound like fun to me, but rather makes me uneasy at best.  So go ahead, call me a "scaredy cat".  I can take it.  I'll even go as far as to say that I resemble that remark.

But beyond the seasonal stuff and the horror stuff comes the life stuff.  Even the worst Hollywood horror flick can't compare to the gripping force of some of the things we fear in life.  We fear loss.  We fear pain.  We fear rejection.  We fear embarrassment.  We fear failure.  We fear criticism.  We fear poverty.  We fear hurting others.  We fear the unknown.  We fear sickness, old age and death...and believe it or not, we even fear success. 

So when it comes to life...are you a "scaredy cat"?  It's a difficult road to walk, that's for sure.  The pressures around us sometimes seem insurmountable.  I mean, even the evening news uses fear for their attention-grabbing by lines.  There's a "severe threat" of just about everything you could imagine.  You're at risk.  Your children are at risk.  Your health is at risk.  Your job is at risk.  Your home is at risk.  And quite honestly, they're absolutely right.  EVERYTHING we own and do is completely vulnerable to death, disease, decay, and destruction.  Everything.  And yet, God tells us 365 times in scripture to "fear not".  365 times.  Not just a mention here and there.  365 time.  One time for every day of the year.  Funny how the world tells us to fear EVERYTHING, and God tells us there is only one thing to fear, and it's Him!  But the provision built into the command is that when we rightly fear Him, then we will fear nothing else.  He promises to make up the difference.  He doesn't say that we'll never experience fearful situations, but in those times, he will give us the grace and mercy to move through them fearlessly.

Psalm 112 says it like this:      

"...a righteous man will be remembered forever.

He will have no fear of bad news;
       his heart is steadfast, trusting in the LORD.
His heart is secure, he will have no fear...

Proverbs 1:33 says:

 "...whoever listens to me will live in safety
       and be at ease, without fear of harm."

Proverbs 3 says:     

^"My son, preserve sound judgment and discernment,

       do not let them out of your sight;

 they will be life for you,
       an ornament to grace your neck.
 Then you will go on your way in safety,
       and your foot will not stumble;
when you lie down, you will not be afraid;
       when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.
Have no fear of sudden disaster
       or of the ruin that overtakes the wicked,
for the LORD will be your confidence
       and will keep your foot from being snared.

...and Isaiah?  Well that's another story altogther.  Through the entire book, the phrases of "Do not fear" and "Fear not" are woven through the text.  Do not fear disgrace.  Do not fear man.  Do not dismay. 

Isaiah 35:4 emphasizes: 

"...say to those with fearful hearts, 'Be strong, do not fear;

your God will come, he will come with vengeance.'"

Jeremiah 17:8 even deals with the natural, but it applies to the spiritual:

"Do not fear the heat or when the drought comes." 

Romans 8:15 reminds us:

^"For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear,

but you received the Spirit of sonship."

2 Timothy 1:7 declares the truth:

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear,

but of power and of love and of a sound mind."

I Peter 3:14 exhorts us:

"But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed.

'Do not fear what they fear; do not be frightened.'"

I John 4:18 challenges:

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear..."

SO when the forest looks dark, and the shadows start to creep in around you...just remember that the God that created it all and holds it all in His hands, has cleared a path for you.  A path of peace among the forests of fear.  Which reminds me of one last scripture:

Psalm 23:4  "Even though I walk through
the valley of the shadow of death, 
I will fear no evil, for you are with me..."

(In the Midst of the Storm) There Is Peace

My mom has a friend from her college days who used to fly airplanes into the middle of hurricanes.  That's right, hurricanes.  Sounds crazy, but in actuality it's been really beneficial to all of us.  You see, it wasn't on some kind of half-crazed kamikaze mission.  It was to take readings and gather data to help our weather service better predict and track the damaging storms.  Without their sacrifice, we wouldn't be nearly as prepared as we are these days to successfully weather the storms that come our way.

Hurricanes are such a crazy contradiction, in themselves.  The outside edges move quickly and violently, and yet the inner core is perfectly calm and still.  The outside tosses waves and strips buildings bare, but on the inside you can see perfectly blue sky and even a beautiful sunset, if you're lucky.  On the outside you experience the full brunt force of it's destructive nature, but at the inside eye, you'd be surprised that a storm was even present...if it weren't for all of the chaos going on in the hurricane's outer reaches.

I see the reflection of this whole scenario played out in my own life.  There are times when I have been faced with the kind of trouble that has created chaos all around me.  I've felt the overwhelming fear that wanted to flood over me and drown me in despair.  I'm all too familiar with the stinging rain of betrayal on my face and the howling wind of loneliness in my heart.  There have been times when I've almost been knocked off of my feet by the powerful gusts of hardship, and I've wondered whether this storm was the one that would take me out.

Even though I've seen my fair share, it hasn't just been me that's been hit by the storm.  I've watched as marriages and as families...as churches...and as the lives of the people I love most have been hit by gale-force winds and stripped bare by the destructive forces of trials. I've watched as many have tried to outrun the storm...thinking they had the advantage...only to be overcome and unprepared for the fallout.  I've watched in horror as the protective levy's were not able to hold back the turbulent waves crashing down on their shores...and I've walked among the splinters and shards of their once-whole lives, shocked by the forcefulness of a single storm and painfully reminded of the frailty of life as we know it.

But that takes me back to the beginning of my story to my mom' friend.  You remember, the guy that was crazy enough to fly airplanes around in those hurricanes.  The important thing that I often forget in the storms of life is that there are people who have gone before me.  They've collected data.  They've studied the storm, inside and out.  They've charted it's course.  They know it's ways.  They know where the eye of the storm is...where the winds won't rage against you, and where you can be safe from it's devastating impact.  Without their sacrifice, we wouldn't be nearly as prepared as we are these days to successfully weather the storms that come our way...and to find peace.

Here's what two of those kind of men have to say:

Isaiah 26:3-4  

You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast,
       because he trusts in you.

Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD is the Rock eternal. 

2 Samuel 22:2-20

       "The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;

 my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,
       my shield and the horn of my salvation.
       He is my stronghold, my refuge and my savior—
       from violent men you save me.

 I call to the LORD, who is worthy of praise,
       and I am saved from my enemies.

"The waves of death swirled about me;
       the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me.

The cords of the grave coiled around me;
       the snares of death confronted me.

In my distress I called to the LORD;
       I called out to my God.
       From his temple he heard my voice;
       my cry came to his ears.

"The earth trembled and quaked,
       the foundations of the heavens shook;
       they trembled because he was angry.

 Smoke rose from his nostrils;
       consuming fire came from his mouth,
       burning coals blazed out of it.

 He parted the heavens and came down;
       dark clouds were under his feet.

He mounted the cherubim and flew;
       he soared on the wings of the wind. 

He made darkness his canopy around him—
       the dark rain clouds of the sky.

 Out of the brightness of his presence
       bolts of lightning blazed forth.

 The LORD thundered from heaven;
       the voice of the Most High resounded.

 He shot arrows and scattered the enemies ,
       bolts of lightning and routed them.

 The valleys of the sea were exposed
       and the foundations of the earth laid bare
       at the rebuke of the LORD,
       at the blast of breath from his nostrils.

"He reached down from on high and took hold of me;
       he drew me out of deep waters.

  He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
       from my foes, who were too strong for me.

 They confronted me in the day of my disaster,
       but the LORD was my support.

He brought me out into a spacious place;
       he rescued me because he delighted in me.

Soul Tattoo

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Soul Tattoo by Margaret Becker

Don't want nobody to save me from this divine romance
Don't want nobody to wake me from this mysterious trance
Don't make me drink black coffee sister
Don't make me splash my face
Because the love that I'm victim of
Is the kind of love you can never erase

It's like a soul tattoo, like a soul tattoo
Love like this will never fade away
Like a soul tattoo

Don't want nobody to help me get my heart off my sleeve
Don't want nobody to tell me that I am being naive
Don't make me put my coat on sister
Don't make me go in the house
Because the love that I'm victim of
Is the kind of love you can never keep out

It's like a soul tattoo, like a soul tattoo
Love like this will never fade away
Like a soul tattoo

You can rub your fingers raw
But you can never get the mark to come off
You can hope it will come to an end
But this love is forever and ever and ever
Amen

Delight

 

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 Job 22:26

"Surely then you will find delight
in the Almighty
      and will lift up your face to God. 
You will pray to him, and he will hear you."

I know there's a lot of talk out there about losing our joy.  So when I come across the world "delight", it really catches my attention.  To me, delight seems like joy on crack...or to use a non-chemically-altered reference, it'd be like joy with lighter fluid on it.  That better?

I've got to be honest here:  life has been much harder than I expected.  I was a "good girl", I've done relatively "good" things...so somewhere in my internal calculations, 2 + 2 should've = 4.  But it hasn't, and life is painful, sometimes dull, and way to hectic for my tastes.  Even as a society, I think we've given up on the idea of it ever getting better, and so we've created multi-billion dollar industries that feed us products and information that supposedly helps us manage our chaos.

Yet somewhere in the noisy mix of information and things, the word delight has gone missing.  You never hear it used in ad campaigns, or see it on highway billboards.  It's not found in any company's  tag line, that I know of...and I don't know that I've ever even used the word in my own vocabulary.

The thesaurus on my computer defines delight this way:  

"to please greatly, charm, enchant, captivate, entrance, thrill; gladden, gratify, appeal to; entertain, amuse, divert; to take pleasure in, revel in, luxuriate in, wallow in, glory in; adore, love, relish, savor, lap up; get a kick out of, get a thrill out of, get a charge out of, dig."

 The hard question here is:  When was the last time you DELIGHTED in the Lord?  When have you captivated Him, and allowed yourself to be captivated in return?  When has He entertained or amused you?  When have you let Him distract you from life's biting realities?  Have you EVER wallowed in His goodness...or luxuriated in His mercy?  Do you lap up what He has to say?...and get a charge out of something He reveals to you?  Can you honestly say you get a kick out of Him...or is He a distant Judge of All Things Bad, including you?  Are you actually thrilled about anything in this life He's lavished on you...or has the thrill gotten trampled out by the redundant monotony of another lifeless day?  Do we savor him like an amazing meal?...relish him like a fine wine?...or glory in him like we do when our favorite team wins the game?

I know one thing for sure:  I want more delight in my life.  But what the self-help books won't tell you is that if you're not delighting in HIM, you won't find delight hanging around in the darkened crags of your life.  The good news is that the more we learn the ways of taking delight in Him, the more those ways will spill over into this meagerly satisfying thing we call life.  I want to get a kick out of God...and all of the crazy things he does in my life.  I want to crack up over his latest escapades on my behalf...and wallow about in his lavish outpouring of love and mercy and grace in my life.  I want to proclaim with confidence that I find (current, emphatic, definitive) delight in the Almighty...and when I pray to him, he hears me.

I also want a t-shirt that says, "I DIG GOD"...and I want to mean it.

Holy of Holies

I wonder what it was really like the day that Jesus died.  I'm not talking about all of the stuff we read in the Bible and have heard in Sunday School classes since we were tots...but the behind-the-scenes stuff...the untold stories.  (You'll have to excuse me, it's just how my brain works.)

Like the whole ripping of the temple veil thing.  First, there's the well-documented fact that it ripped from the top to the bottom, which is weird enough in itself...would've loved to have seen that.  Add to that an earth quake that split boulders in two and broke open the tombs.  And then to top it all off, the holy people who were buried inside came back to life, got up and walked around the city!  WOW!!!... What?!?!  I don't remember THAT part!  It's like something you'd see in a horror movie!

So it's no biz surprise that I'd wonder what that was like:  to be in town on business or shopping...and to see these people you were certain to be dead, walking around town fully alive.  Or what would it be like to be going about your normal tasks around the house, when your once-dead spouse walks through the door proclaiming, "Honey, I'm hoooome!"  (?!?!?)  Just a thought:  Did those people get their old jobs back, or their old lives back?!  Just wondering...

Not to mention, on the other side of town there's the whole temple-curtain-torn-in-two thing.  The Holy of Holies is now exposed...and from what I've researched, there was no big "teaching moment" as to what it all meant, no "Pre-Crucifixion Conference" to attend to get the lowdown on how to successfully make that kind of transition.  But reality for them was that for hundreds of years prior to this event, priests who had even a hint of sin in their lives DIED in there and were drug out by a rope that was tied around their ankles!!!  What I want to know is:  who was the first guy to say, "Hey, I'll go in and check things out!"  I'd like to meet the fearless man who was the first to walk in there!

Then there's the whole re-working of the temple schedule.  I mean, when you think about it, the whole place was turned upside down.  No more sacrifices on behalf of the people.  No more needing to staff that particular ritual...no special holidays with special sacrifices for special sins and special forgiveness.  It was all covered!  So then what did the priests who were assigned to that process DO with themselves when their gig was canceled?  Did they take a sabbatical to regroup and come back with new job assignments?  (...and we think WE have it bad with layoffs these days!)

On a human level, there is so much that ISN'T talked about...so you don't want to be behind me in line once we get to heaven!  'Cuz I've got LOTS of questions, and I'm gonna HAVE to see the playback reel on some MAJOR stuff!

But on a spiritual level, all kidding aside, it was an AWESOME thing that took place in a mere moment.  All of the law and prophecies were fulfilled in just one moment.  Our relationship with God was forever changed, in just one moment.  Our sin, no longer just rolled forward to the "next appointed time" of sacrifice, but completely forgiven...in just one moment. 

It's staggering to think about, and even more humbling to live out...this instant access to God.  We no longer need a temple priest to do it for us.  Mother Mary can't help us out.  It's down to just us and Him...with nothing in between.  I don't know about you, but that leaves me with that "stripped-down-in-the-middle-of-the-streets-with-everyone-gawking" kind of vulnerable.

Somehow, I'd hazard the guess that there a few of us who actually might have felt a little more comfortable with the old system still in place.  Some of us could better manage that "once removed" nature of relating to God.  But now, our contact is direct...our sin is sure...and we have to own up to it face-to-face with Almighty God.

Our reality is that when the curtain tore in two, the Holy of Holies spilled right out of that consecrated room, and into the alley ways of our lives.  No longer would our sacrificial offerings be confined to a building or structure, but they would be manifested in the everyday things we do.  Whether we're comfortable with the ramifications or not, we've now become priests that tend to the presence of God in our own lives.  Our hearts have been transformed into the Holy of Holies...the place where He abides.

...and I'd be remiss if I didn't ask about it:  How are we doin' with that?...

Fingerprints

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My husband and I love to watch the CSI TV crime drama.  We both are intrigued by the creative process involved in pulling together the random, mysterious circumstances surrounding someone's demise, to eventually solve the crime.  Now that we're all-too-familiar with the process, we've come to expect that one of the first things they'll do on the show to begin the investigation is to dust for fingerprints.

However, it's one thing to watch that happen on TV, but it's quite another to watch it played out in the theater of your own home.  Last December, someone decided to kick down our back door and ransack our place.  We weren't home at the time, but our two black labs, Mazi and Gracie, were.  But since they are one of the friendliest breeds around, Mr. Robber Man soon became an unexpected playmate in their minds, and they probably instantly became fast friends with him.  (I wonder if they would've turned out meaner if we'd named them Brutus and Killer...but I digress).

The police arrived quickly, as did the Crime Scene Investigator.  Yep, to our surprise we had our very own CSI in our house!  However, she didn't wear lots of makeup, tight white pants and 5-inch high heels...and she didn't drive a Hummer.  :)  It was so exciting, though...and what do you think she immediately went to do?!?!  Dust for fingerprints, OF COURSE!  It was awesome watching her do what she does best, even if it was a much less glamorous version than on TV.

We found it hard to believe, but she found a set of prints!!!  They were on the under side of a filing cabinet drawer pull in John's music room.  First of all, who would've thought to look there?  (That's impressive enough).  Secondly, they helped to identify the crook and were used as a part of the prosecution!!!  Turns out Mr. Robber Man had made a life-long career out of this nocturnal enterprise, and the evidence accumulated by the CSI would most likely put him BACK in jail for a long, long time.

It's an amazing process when you think about it.  Fingerprints were the evidence the Detective used to prove that this stranger had been in our home.  He had come and gone while we were away, but what he didn't realize was that he'd left a part of himself behind...the oil from his finger tips...that left a distinctive pattern, unique to him, identifying him as the perpetrator.

Oddly enough,  I've begun to be increasingly aware of the fingerprints found on my life.  Some good, some bad...some welcomed, and some uninvited.  But all of them having an influence on who I've ultimately become.  I've also identified a hunger in my heart to touch the lives of others.  I find myself wanting to have an influence by "getting my hands on" people's hearts and lives and mindsets.

But here's the thing:  If you put your hands on something, you have to be prepared to leave your fingerprints.  

It's like signing a check, authorizing the withdrawal of funds from your bank account.  It's like placing your name at the bottom of a piece of artwork to authenticate that it is your handiwork.  Somehow, very quickly, that neat little idea of "getting my hands on" things takes on a much more somber tone.  There's more weight to it.  There's responsibility...and investment and the consequences of impact.

Which got me to thinking...what kind of fingerprints am I leaving on the hearts and lives around me?  What kind of impact am I having?  Are they fingerprints that are full of purpose and influence?  Or are they simply evidence that I've been in places that I should'nt have been?  Would they be used as evidence to indict me...or to exonerate me from any wrong-doing?  Would they be a lasting imprint, or ones that would fade over time?

Fingerprints.  They're all over my heart.  Evidence of the influence that other people have had on my life.  My prayer is that I will leave a legacy of lasting imprints on every one that I touch.  May they be used in the court of everyday life to convict me of the crimes of love and kindness...and may the Judge sentence me to serve consecutive life terms, imprisoned by His justice and mercy.

Whispers of God

The LORD’s voice is heard over the sea. The glorious God thunders; the LORD thunders over the ocean. The LORD’s voice is powerful; the LORD’s voice is majestic, the LORD’s voice makes the lightning flash, the LORD’s voice shakes the oaks, and strips the leaves off the trees. In his Temple everyone says, “Glory to God!”
Psalm 29:3-9

The LORD said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.
1 Kings 19:11-12

I love these two verses because they show such contrasting character concerning the voice of the Lord.  The first shows the undeniable power that God's voice can wield.  The second shows a separation between God's raw power and His still small voice.

I think if we were honest with each other, many of us would admit that even though we've been walking with the Lord for quite some time, the idea of hearing God's voice is an uncomfortable one at best.  Many of us are more comfortable leaning on our logic or practical natures than trying to quiet ourselves and listen for the whisper of God.  Most of us can't imagine taking the necessary time to get to that place of inner quietness in order to even hear it...we've got places to go and things to do...so we busy ourselves doing good things in order to compensate for the time we don't spend listening to Him.

Some of us are just so unpracticed in it that we wouldn't even know what to listen for if we tried...and even if we did hear it, we'd chalk it up to our own ideas and thoughts, and not necessarily trust that it was the voice of God.  To be really honest, a few of us don't even really believe that God talks to us at all, these days.  It's as if he set the world in motion and then stepped back to watch it all spin out of control...as if He knows good and well that He can help, but He just doesn't seem to want to get involved.

But my heart has a really hard time believing in a God like that.  It just seems odd to me that God would take that much time and effort to create with such incredible detail and beauty, and then not even be remotely interested in engaging with the very things He created.   He didn't just create us because He was bored.  He created us for relationship...and just like in our human relationships, we get to know each other better by talking...by sharing ourselves with each other.

Haven't you been in a one-sided relationship before?  I can certainly remember a time or two when my interest in a schoolmate was very emotionally lopsided.  I was so interested in talking to them and telling them important things about myself, buy they weren't really interested all that much, and their heart just wasn't in it.  I remember how painful that was...wanting to connect with that someone, but knowing that they really didn't see me or hear me...or want to know me.

Our relationship with God can be like that if we're not careful...even if we're Godly people.  We can all too easily throw up prayers like they were shopping lists, reducing God to some sort of self-serving vending machine.  When what He really wants is for us to talk to Him...to share our hearts with Him...to dream out loud with Him.

Sometimes our relationships with God take on a utilitarian spin, like we're shoplifters.  We run in, grab what we need, and we're on our way.  It's so easy to do...and yet, even in spending some time with the Lord, our time is reduced to what we can GET from God instead of what we can SHARE with God.

But most critical in our ability to listen to God is whether we can quiet ourselves enough to hear His whispers.  Everything under the sun, from Oxy Clean to Sham Wow, is screaming for our attention.  But God refuses to be just another voice in the crowd.  He refuses to yell over the rabble.  Instead, He lowers His voice to a soft whisper...in hopes that we'll make the effort to silence the noise and lean in to hear what He has to say.

The whispers of God...full of life and love and truth.  Without them, we run around trying to find our value and identity in the things around us...and we end up burned out, empty and disillusioned.  We let prejudice creep in, we don't feel the joy anymore, we lose patience with our friends and family, we're over reactive and filled with rage, we betray each other and are harsh in our dealings, and we don't know how much longer we can keep up the appearances before we lose control.

The whispers of God...intended to be shared in a relationship that is mutual and growing and deepening...meant to empower us with everything we need to make it through this life, and in the process to know Him better and love Him more.

Quiet yourself and the voices around you...and listen for His still small voice.  What's funny is, He's actually quite gabby when it comes right down to it.

The Path Less Traveled

(NIV) Matthew 7:13-14  "Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.

(The Message) "Don't look for shortcuts to God. The market is flooded with surefire, easygoing formulas for a successful life that can be practiced in your spare time. Don't fall for that stuff, even though crowds of people do. The way to life—to God!—is vigorous and requires total attention.

I'll write more thoughts on this later...but this is where the thoughts begin.

Sacred Slogans

 

Matthew 7:6
"Don't be flip with the sacred. Banter and silliness give no honor to God. Don't reduce holy mysteries to slogans. In trying to be relevant, you're only being cute and inviting sacrilege."

Amos 5:21-24
"I can't stand your religious meetings. I'm fed up with your conferences and conventions.  I want nothing to do with your religion projects, your pretentious slogans and goals.
I'm sick of your fund-raising schemes, your public relations and image making.  I've had all I can take of your noisy ego-music. When was the last time you sang to me?  Do you know what I want? I want justice—oceans of it.  I want fairness—rivers of it. That's what I want. That's all I want."

These scriptures caught my heart...they're a bit strong, I admit.  So I'm really sorry if they bite a bit hard.  But I've got to confess that since I find myself closely connected to "Church Marketing" by trade, while sitting in meeting after meeting with different churches all striving to come accross as relevant and attractive, my heart has taken on a sadness at what we're making the Church to be.

When it comes right down to it, She was never meant to be a marketing campaign or a catchy one-line slogan...she was meant to be the spotless Bride.  And my heart asks the question that if we, as Christ-followers would live out the Truth found in scripture...would we NEED to methodically devise our relevance?  Or wouldn't following Jesus MAKE us relevant?

Somehow, all of the clever quotes that minimize the greatest Truths make me a little queasy in the stomach...and a lot concerned over the message that we're really communicating to the world around us.  His Truth doesn't need our cuteness to survive, to cut through, to have an impact.  In fact, Scripture doesn't say that the world will know us by our effective marketing campaigns, but by our love.

So when did L-O-V-E become so out-dated? so irrelevant? so anemic and in such great need of a curb appeal makeover?  Last time I checked, Jesus said it was the "greatest" commandment.  And I just hazard the thought that if we took the time and effort to put feet and hands to that one little word...all of our church growth models and public awareness problems would be blown completely out of the water.

...and it all comes back to love.  I think I like that.

Crescent Moon (& Venus)

 

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My husband and I are taking a long-overdue and much-needed break from the real world and have headed up into the Blue Ridge Mountains for a few days of rest and relaxation.  This painting was inspired by the view outside the car window as we made the short trip.

Our hope is that we silence the noise of life as we know it, and position our hearts to hear clearly from the One who has all the answers.  We're going to take a deep breath of the clean mountain air and drink in the beauty of the brilliant colors of Fall.  We're going to hike and sit and read and listen and talk and dream.  And if we have our way about it (and God has His), we'll come down from the mountain forever changed.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Since I'm a visual artist, it probably won't come as any big surprise that Fall is my favorite season of the year.  I do love a good explosion of Spring color after a dull gray winter, but to me nothing can compare with the blazing colors of fall. 

I love the cooling of the temperatures, getting the sweaters out, and layered clothes.  I love the crisp cleanness of the cool air and the smell of dried leaves and smoke from someone's chimney drifting by.  I love the sound of football games being played in the distance, Fall Festivals, hot apple cider and the memory of hay rides I went on as a kid.

But the thing I love about it all can be summed up in one word:  change.  They change of seasons.  The change of temperatures.  The change of colors.  The change of clothing and activities and food.  It's as if everything is reborn.  The fading memories of summers spent are jolted back to life by kelly greens melting into firey reds and oranges...growing brighter and deeper every day.  It even looks as if God himself plucked some of the trees right up out of the ground and dipped them like brushes into brightly colored paint...and that, to be quite honest, is where he captures my heart entirely.

I was driving around this week, keenly aware of the beautiful changes beginning to take place around me and my thoughts turned to the process of change.  How well do we navigate through it?  Is it graceful and beautiful like the slowly turning colors of fall?  Here's an odd little fact:  did you know that colors affect each other?  It's true.  A yellow leaf will find itself sporting shades of brightest orange along the way to it's deepest shade of crimson red.  Overlapping colors affect eachother as well.  Say you had a green leaf overlapping an orange leaf...then the overlapping sections would probably wind up being some shade of rust or burnt orange.  And certain colors are complementary in nature, bringing out the best in the colors opposite them on the color wheel.  This isn't just a spontaneous lesson in color theory...but it applies to life, too.

We all were created to change.  We were meant to respond to the changes around us...and we were certainly meant to affect change in each other.  Our unique qualities, when blended with the qualities of the other people around us should change everyone involved.  Which begs the question:  Am I creating the kind of change that is one of breath-taking beauty?  Or am I affecting change that is unpleasant, unappealing or offensive?...and as an added bonus:  How am I working with the people directly opposite me on the color wheel of life?  (Ouch...I know that one hurt a little bit, but I had to ask!)

So as you watch the fantastic colors of fall begin to unfold before you, let this be a season of honest self-evaluation and reflection.  Consider, if you will, the affect you're having on the people around you.  My blessing over you would be this:  that this season be one of astounding beauty in your life, and may you be invigorated by the prospect of real and lasting change.

It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.  ~Alan Cohen

One Head Light

Well the moment I've been waiting for finally arrived.  But true to form, it was completely unexpected and somewhat spontaneous in nature.  For the past couple of years I'd seen him standing there...on the corner at the stoplight, next to his bicycle...with a cardboard sign in his hand that reads, "Will Work for Food".  

I've seen him off and on without any regularity, but was aware that each time I passed the intersection, I started to look for him.  I kind of expected that he'd be there.  Curious when he wasn't...and yet curious when he was.  I knew there had to be a story.  I mean the man would stand out there on the hottest days of the summer for hours on end.  So what would drive someone to withstand that kind of humiliation in that kind of heat?

My "Why Girl" kicked into action each time I passed...wanting to know the answers to the questions rolling around in my head, until one day it wasn't me asking the questions, but God. 

"Why don't you ask him?"

"WHAT?!"

"Why don't you ask him?...You want to know the answers, why don't you ask him the questions?  You want to know why he stands there day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year...then why don't you pull over and ask him?"

 I was convicted and anxious all together at the same time.  Curious, convicted and anxious.  But with conviction comes the responsibility to act on it, so I purposed in my heart to do something about it the next time I was in the area.  But wouldn't you know, he went away...for quite a while...which made me even more curious, and saddened that I'd missed my window of opportunity.

Until last week.  John and I had spent the weekend doing creative gigs, and so we'd decided to make Monday our "Sabbath Day" of rest.  We slept in and went to Bob Evan's for a big brunch and good conversation over a bottomless pot of coffee.  Since we were in no big hurry, we took the back way home...when what do you know, there was the sign guy standing on the corner like he'd never missed a day!

Having shared my little conversation with God concerning Sign Guy with my husband, he was ready at arms (or steering wheel) to respond at a moment's notice.  And before I really knew what was happening, he had pulled the van off the side of the road and was on his way to talk to the mystery man.

Turns out he has a name:  Al.  He's a bright and educated man.  Well versed in conversation, and well aware of the latest news.  He's from around these parts, and knows everyone that has history in this area on a first name basis.  He seemed to have a really gentle side to him and was more than happy to engage us in conversation.  I was awed to watch John work his magic in connecting with Al in a way that maintained Al's dignity and honor.  Come to find out, Al is an electrician, by trade, and he served in the Gulf War.  But life started to take a bit of a dark turn for him when his wife got sick with cancer.  He worked overtime trying to keep up with her medical bills, but it just never seemed to be enough.  As he aged, his knees and feet started to give out...keeping him very limited in what he could do on the job.  In the end, he lost his steady job to a younger, more able-bodied worker.  Insurance disappeared...and over time, his bride lost her battle against cancer.

So there he stood, next to his bicycle with the cardboard sign in his hand looking for help to make ends meet.  He wasn't a drunk.  He wasn't a vagrant.  He wasn't mentally unstable or a menace to society.  He was a normal human being who had struggled through a series of unfortunate events, and was needing a little help getting through it, that's all.  Not a place too far off from where John and I have found ourselves several times in our few short years of marriage.

Suddenly the reality started to sink into my heart:  There but for the grace of God go I.  You see, most of the time I let the cynical part of my nature take over when I see people like Al on the street corners.  It's an awkward moment, when my heart is being tugged at to act in mercy...but I justify my lack of follow-through with facts gathered from some exposè on TV that uncovered the big scam that "guys like this" run.  So I do nothing...other than feel the nervousness rising higher and higher in my throat, as I inch my way up to the corner stop light.  Praying the empty prayer under my breath, "Please let it turn green, please let it turn green, please let it turn green!"  And when it doesn't, trying my best to not make eye contact with the man holding the sign.  As if I don't make eye contact, then he doesn't really exist, right?!

But he DOES exist...and honestly, that's not really the problem.  The problem isn't that people like Al stand on the street corner asking for help.  The problem is that Al is an uncomfortable reminder of just how fragile life is...and to acknowledge the Al's in our society would only serve to confirm our fear.  So as long as they don't exist, then we have nothing to fear.  No Al, no fear of life taking a nasty little turn on us.

So how does this story relate to the painting "One Head Light"?  Well let me fast forward to this weekend.  I went to dinner with a friend on Saturday night, and on the way home realized that one of the head lights on my car had burned out unexpectedly.  I was weird, because I could kind of see, but it was waaaay darker than usual.  I had to strain to make out where the road really was and...wasn't.  It felt a little scary, like the darkness was bigger than me...and I no longer felt like Master of my Domain, but a little minimized and vulnerable.

When, adding insult to injury, the lyric of a Wallflower's song came floating out of my stereo speakers:

Hey, come on try a little
Nothing is forever
There's got to be something better than
In the middle
But me & Cinderella
We put it all together
We can drive it home
With one headlight

Okay, that was just weird!  Here I am driving home with one head light...and the lead singer is belting out "we can drive it home with one head light".  I don't know what they call that, but it should have some really cool French word like "dejavu" attached to it.  It was definitely a moment.

But I it made me think of Al and how he had fought for our freedom, how he'd fought by his wife's side for her health, how he'd worked until his body began to break down on him...how he'd tried to keep it all together.  But in the end, he was having to navigate his way home with just one head light.  And I'm sure that it seemed waaaay darker than usual.  I can only imagine how hard he had to strain to make out where the road really was and...wasn't.  And I'm certain that it felt a little scary along the way, like the darkness was bigger than him...and I there's no doubt in my mind that he no longer felt like the Master of his Domain, but a completely minimized and vulnerable.

 You see, in real life we may find ourselves at one point or another trying to drive it home with one head light.  We may spend a good part of our lives trying to pull it all together.  But God has promised to be with us in the darkest darkness.  He knows exactly where the road really is and...isn't.  And only He can insure that we make safe passage on our journey.  It's a vulnerable place, but it's right where He wants us to be...with less of us, and more of Him.

Instantly my mind flashed back to the prayer we prayed over Al that day on the corner by the stop light.  We prayed that God would protect him and provide for him...and that eventually Al would come to know God in a very real and personal way.  That his heart would be captivated by the only Light that could really help him to make it home.

I have a new friend, and his name is Al.  I know his story...a story that sounds an awful lot like my own.  And I'm quite alright with that...

I Like Red

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Okay...so on the weekend I'm allowing myself to occassionaly take a break from the profound thoughts and just paint something because I like it.  Today, I painted dogwood stems on a red background for no other reason than this:  I like  red.  :)

Grow

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Don't go through life, grow through life.
-   Eric Butterworth 

Legacy

Tonight I painted for a benefit fundraiser.  The theme of the night was "Leaving a Legacy"...and I painted to music that I'd gathered up on iTunes.  I picked songs that reflected the theme...but my favorite of the night was "Legacy" by Sanctus Real.  The words are powerful:

What will they say when I'm gone,

In words that are written in stone?
Under my name, what will they claim about me?


Oh, I want to leave a legacy to be remembered.
More than just a memory that fades away
Because we only, we only get one life


Free me, my hands are tied
I'm so tired of wasting time
These endless inventions
Steal my attention from real life
And when its done, when its over


Oh, I want to leave a legacy to be remembered
More than just a memory that fades away
Because we only, we only get one life


And will the world see Christ
When they look at my life?
Oh, will the world see?


Mmm, come on, give me, give me, give me real life
And no more, no more, no more wasting time
Because we only, we only get one life (Just one Life)


Oh, I want to leave a legacy to be remembered
More than just a memory that fades away
Because we only, (Get one shot, at this one life) We only (One moment in time)
Because we only, we only get one life

And that really captures the heartbeat behind things for me these days.  Life is too short...I've learned that from the death of several friends and family members recently.  We only get this one life, and it's not ours to just waste on getting more.  It's meant to be used...to be poured out...to be wrung out like a wet rag until the very last drop falls.  We're meant to make more of an impact on the world around us than just our carbon imprint.  We're meant to affect lives, and hearts, and destinies.  We're meant to leave a legacy.

What kind of legacy are you leaving behind?  Is it more than a memory that just fades away?  It's yours to do with what you want...

But don't forget:  we only get this one life.

Giving Some Love

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I wonder what it would be like if we could actually SEE love being given.  You know, the random acts of kindness done throughout the day...the ones done in secret, or out of main view.  What if every time we treated someone with respect or spoke kindly of someone, people could actually see a visual representation of that in the atmosphere around us? 

What if the opposite was true?...and every ugly thought or attitude or snide remark was actually SEEN lurking around us?

Then what about you?  Would there be lots of love in the air where you are...?  Or negativity, angst and bitterness?

I think it's about time we ALL became card toting members of the "Clean Air Act"...and it's time we got more concerned about our "toxic emissions" and made some moves toward a more "sustainable environment" in which to live.

You're in charge of that committee.  I'm in charge of that committee.  Because it starts with us, and it's ours to give.  So why not try to give out some love today?  It's for the environment...and for all of mankind.

Under My Umbrella-ella-ella

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Transitions between seasons always get me confused.  Is it summer?  Is it fall?  One day is sunny and in the high 80's, the next day is a cloudy gray and time to pull out the sweaters and jackets.  Either way, in transition season, you'd have to agree that it's always good to have an umbrella close at hand.

So to see a scattering of colorful umbrellas out this past week as summer surrenders to fall, wasn't such a shocker.  In reality, after a few days of relentless drizzle and drab skies, I started to wonder if we'd made some sort of strange time and space continuum leap...and found ourselves living in Seattle, for some odd reason.  I started craving coffee all day long, and I was just about ready to crank up the fireplace jets, when...what do you know...another respite of bright sunshine and warm temps.

The other day while I was driving down a street near where I live, the oddest thing caught my eye. There was a little Asian lady slowly making her way down the sidewalk on this beautiful sunny day...with an umbrella over her head!  Mind you, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.  The weatherman hadn't predicted even the tiniest chance for rain.  So here this dainty little woman was, moving at a snail's pace, holding an umbrella over her in the afternoon sun, as she went on her merry way.

If I hadn't known a little about the Asian culture, I would've really thought this woman to be a little "teched" in the head...as they say.  But in the heritage she grew up in, a woman's light ivory skin was a sign of good fortune.  It meant that she had the means to not be working in the fields...that she had some status and significance.  In their society, the lighter the better.  Some of their traditions even include painting their faces white in order to make the women more desirable.  So I was able to understand the reasons why she covered herself in the shade of an umbrella on such a beautiful day.

Then again, the whole idea behind umbrellas got me to thinking...(I know...right?!)  But I thought how odd it was that some cultures use the umbrella to keep out the rain, and others use it to keep out the sun.  Either way, in both cultures the umbrella is used to block unwanted forces of nature from reaching them.  And then I started to wonder if we all have "umbrellas" of our ow that we use to block certain things that come from God from reaching us.

Could it be that we pray and pray for patience, and UP goes the umbrella that would shield us from the frustrating situations that would, indeed, work out patience in our lives.  Could we be desiring spiritual growth in our lives, but UP goes the umbrella as soon as the winds of change come along...because we're afraid that it might start to rain at any moment, and we're not wanting to be surprised.  And could it be that some of us even carry that blasted umbrella around on relatively beautiful days, when everything around us calls out for outdoor activities and soaking in the sun...because we don't want the effects of the sun to be seen on us, because we want to maintain some sort of status or significance?  Could it be that it's time to put the umbrella down?

Is it time to jump in the puddles and get soaking wet in the rain of His mercy?  Is it time to lay out on a blanket and feel the warmth of His forgiveness on our skin?  Is it time to let His "elements" have an affect on us...to soften our hearts, to bring us refreshment, to restore the innocence lost?  Is it time to put the umbrella down and run through the rain squealing and giggling like a kid again?

Sure enough, tomorrow calls for rain again...and if I know human nature enough, I'm sure there'll be plenty of umbrellas around.  My hope is that I'll be just a little less comfortable under mine...and a little more tempted to simply leave it at home and face the elements as they come.

The Altar of Me

Genesis 12 & 13 documents the familiar story of Abram and his family packing up all of their earthly possessions, livestock and servants...and heading out on a God adventure of epic proportions.  Funny thing is, Abram had no idea where he was going.  All he knew was that God had told him to get everything ready to go.  So without a scrawled out map or modern day GPS system of any kind, he and his family packed up and headed out.  Abram was strictly on a "need to know" basis, and obviously he didn't really need to know.  But he had a willing and obedient heart.

True to form, God was faithful to let the vagabond troop of obedient followers know when it was time to stop and settle in.  But a funny thing jumped off the page at me this morning as I studied the text:  each time they stopped, they built an altar to the Lord and they called on the name of the Lord.  The altar held special significance, as it was a permanent place for them to sacrifice their offerings to the Lord out of worship and thanks, but it also would stand as a permanent marker, providing an enduring reminder of what God had done on their behalf.  It was a sacred place of remembrance.

At the end of our bible study this morning, one of my friends shared with the class what God had been showing her in the story of Abram & Lot.  It was really beautiful, so I'll share it with you as acurately as I can remember.

She said God was showing her that the altar represented her life.  Each stone stacked one on top of the other represented all of the good, bad and the ugly things that had happened to her throughout her life.  One stone represented being abused as a child.  One represented meeting her wonderful husband.  One might be a really painful betrayal, the other a really beautiful friendship.  The point is that the altar wasn't just made up of good things...stellar moments, successes, victories.  It was made up of rocks that were all mixed up...good things stacked next to bad things, pleasant things and painful things together, negative and positive alike.  And contrary to her distorted perspective, the negative things in life weren't just discarded and thrown to the side.  In reality, they were just as essential as all of the good things that had happened in building up the altar.  The bad things carried as much weight and were just as significant as the good things.  Once the stones of life were stacked in place, then God could send His fire down to burn up whatever sacrifice was being offered.  Sometimes it was worship, sometimes it was thanksgiving, and sometimes it was a sacrifice of the tiny bits of her that still remained.

You see, in accepting and embracing ALL of her life experiences, she was finally freed up to actually use the altar for its original intent...as a place of sacrifice and worship to the Lord.  Without the negative experiences, her altar would have been much smaller and much more fragile...unable to hold the full weight of sacrifice that she was meant to hold.  But now she was fully capable of carrying the full weight of anything that God would ask of her.  She was an altar ready to be used.

So that got me to thinking...have I let God build a strong and steady altar out of me?  Have I let Him use the good, bad, AND ugly stones of my life to create a place where He is willing to dwell?  Have I
let the altar of me stand as a permanent marker, providing an enduring reminder of what God has done on my behalf?  Is my life a solid testimony of His goodness and faithfulness?  And am I willing to let Him burn off the little remaining pieces of me in order cleanse the altar so that the sacrifices of worship won't be tainted by my selfishness and pride?

The altar of me...the good, bad and the ugly.  The purified, sanctified, and redeemed.  Consumed by fire...an enduring reminder of the goodness of God.

True North (set of 2)

"Men wander the land 

back and forth...

when only the Lord can be

their True North"

Forever

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Forever.  Not for a while.  Not until it runs out.  Not just because I'm good enough, or I deserve it, or because I'm worth it.  Just forever.

Forever's a long time.  I mean, some things in life seem to last forever...like a dental appointment (especially if there's drilling involved), or a boring business meeting, or waiting in the pick up line at the local elementary school.  But that's not really forever.

It's a weird concept, in part, because our society isn't really built around it.  All you have to do is go to Europe and step inside a functional building that's over a thousand years old, and you start to realize that we Americans have no real sense of longevity.  Our oldest buildings are just over 200 years old...if they're even still around.  It seems we have an addiction to all things NEW!  "Bright, shiny and new" wins out over "historic, weathered and ancient" any day.

We like change.  We like it a lot.  We change husbands every 5 years,  cars every 2, and body parts faster than they can make 'em!  And that outfit you're wearing...it's soooo last month!  We like disposable, convenient, and instant.  So it's no big surprise that we have trouble with commitment, investment...and patience.

But in the sordid mix of our temporary values, one thing still remains:  God is a God of FOREVER.  His love is forever.  His mercy is forever.  His forgiveness?  Yeah, even that's forever.  (I'm starting to like this forever thing more and more!)  So is his kindness, his faithfulness, his goodness, his patience (and my, how we try that one!), his guidance, his wisdom and all of the other qualities you can dream up about God.  Forever.  Forever.  Forever.  Funny thing is...I haven't even wrapped my brain around the 70 x 7 thing yet.  How on earth can He deal in forevers?!?!

Will You love me when I fail?  Forever.  Will You love me when I fall?  Forever.  Will You love me when I make a big fat mess out of things?  Forever.  Will You love me when it really is all my fault and I'm just being willful, stubborn and belligerent? Absolutely and always...Forever.  Will You love me when I don't even want to love You back?  Forever.

Like the mesmerizing tide that rolls in.  Those waves that never stop.  The roaring ones that crash upon the shore day in and day out and all through the night.  Like that.  Just face it.  There is nothing in this world that could make him stop loving you.  Nothing that you can do.  Nothing that you can say.  Nothing that you can mess up, foul up or give up on.  Nothing that you can be...that will ever make him shut His heart off to you.

Romans 8:38-39 says, "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

 You know what that sounds like to me?  Forever.  Couple that with Hebrews 13:5, which states:  "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." and you start to realize that God's got this forever thing down pat.  You see, God has never seen his love for you as easily disposable, convenient and uncomplicated, or nice because he can whip it up in an instant.  So it should be no big surprise that he has no trouble at all with a life-long commitment to loving you, by investing the life of his son on your behalf...and that patience thing?  Well, He's on the Unlimited Plan....which will basically last you...yep, you guessed it:  for forever.

It's so comforting to know and yet a little saddening at the same time...to come to the realization that we will give up on Him LONG before He will ever give up on us.  'Cuz that forever thing is a long, long time.

Making Me A Mountain

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Well, shocking I know, but I'm hung up on another lyric from a song.  This time it's from Kristene Mueller on her, "Those Who Dream" CD.  Frankly, with a CD title like that, how could you NOT like her lyrics?!

The song that keeps wafting through my brain like the breeze in the trees today is called TRUST, oddly enough...

It's the sweetest thing to trust you
just to know
You got everything under control

it's the sweetest thing to trust you
just to know
You got everything

and You are making me a mountain
making me a mountain
that cannot be shaken

well You are making me a mountain
making me a mountain
that cannot be moved

high up on a rock
looking out at the horizon
watching as the storm rolls in
wondering if my heart will survive it

as the waves crash all around me
and can't remember what it feels like
to be free

i know You're making me a mountain
making me a mountain
that cannot be shaken

oh You are making me a mountain
making me a mountain
that cannot be moved

You say, I've got you my baby
I've got you

it's quite the mess you're in, but it's nothing
Love can't fix
so sit here upon my shoulders and watch
as it all unwinds

You are making me a mountain
making me a mountain
that cannot be shaken

i know You're making me a mountain
making me a mountain
that cannot be moved

Click here to listen to "Trust" by Kristene Mueller

 

Joy

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Today I was pondering the phrase, "I've lost my joy".  It's an odd little phrase, but I seem to bump in to it quite a bit.  I really don't have to go any extended length of time without hearing it.  Usually, on the other end of that statement is a worn out, weary person who is wrestling with the futility of life and the emptiness that it can bring.

But there's so many things about the statement that are philosophically flawed.  First, joy isn't really something that you can lose.  You lose things that are external, that you can touch, feel, organize or misplace.  Yet joy isn't a tangible object.  However, I think that a declaration that we've somehow "lost" our joy is a pretty good indicator of our twisted perspective.  Could it be that we are looking to external things to bring us joy?  Like our jobs.  But then we get laid off...so is that how we lose our joy?  Or our spouses.  But then they disappoint or hurt us...so is that how we lose our joy?  Or our children.  You've all heard it a million times, "Here's a picture of my pride and joy."  Really?!  Be careful...because what happens when they fall prey to addiction, rebel against you, or disown you?  Is that how we lose our joy?

Indulge me for just a minute, and let's check out the flip side of our twisted up perspective.  The idea is: what if joy is not something we get from the external, but something we give from the internal?  What if the source of my joy doesn't come from what's happening around me, but from what's happening in me?  In defense of my theory, before I get hate mail from overjoyed parents of delightful children, let's take a look at the contagious laughter of those little darlings we mentioned earlier.  I don't know about you, but when I hear a little one bust out in a great big belly laugh, it's almost impossible for me to NOT laugh.  I end up giggling every time.  But they haven't become my joy...they've just infected me with theirs.

My premise is:  what if true joy is something we find solely as a by-product of our relationship with the Lord?  Could it be that all of the people declaring that they've lost their joy are really just trying to discribe an emotional disconnect from God?  What if The Source really was our only source for long-lasting joy?  And what if that joy wasn't something God intended for us to merely have, but to give?  Then, let me take it one step further...could it be that the reason we can't keep from giggling when a child gets tickled is that their joy is spilling over on us? And if that is true, then can't we spill joy over the people we're around and the situations we're in?  The math would look like this:  healthy and maintained spiritual connect with God (-) horrible job (I mean really bad) (÷) everyone bringing joy in and spilling it on each other all day (=) you tell me.  Would it really be that horrible any more?  I know, I know...we live in a real world with personalities, ego and warped agendas...but think about it.  How transforming would it be if we all carried this God-joy around in us everywhere we go...and we went out of our way to spill it on everyone we encountered throughout the day...

In I Chronicles 16, David leads the Levites in a song of thanks to the Lord.  He recounts all of the heroic things God has done on their behalf.  He rehearses the countless blessings they've encountered at the hand of the Lord.  He rejoices in God's provision and His wonderful acts.  And oddly enough in verse 27, David tells us exactly where to find our missing joy:

"Splendor and majesty are before him; strength and joy in his dwelling place."

 He then rallies all of creation to take part in worship:

"Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad...

Let the sea resound, and all that is in it; let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them!
Then the trees of the forest will sing, they will sing for joy before the LORD...
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever."

You see, true joy can't be lost.  It isn't affected by what is or isn't happening around us.  It can't be bought, it isn't found in success, and it has no valid counterfeit.  If we're totally honest with ourselves, we've probably been looking in the wrong place for our joy and come up empty.  Funny how joy can't be lost, but it can be found...but only in one place.  And even the oceans and the fields and the trees can partake in the celebration of that Joy...for he is good, and his love endures forever!

A Light in the Doorway

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I've always loved doorways.  They hold a certain sense of mystique and adventure for me.  They represent a rite of passage...where you move from one space to the next.  They stand between where you are and where you will be.  In a bit of an unnerving way, until you pass through it, you never really know what's on the other side...for certain.   And yet, they hold such a compelling presence on their own that they can precipitate strong emotions...good and bad.

Take Halloween for instance...you may have absolutely NO idea who the family is that lives in the house with the creepy doorway laced with cob webs and spiders and such, but it makes your skin crawl every time you see their decorated entrance.  Or another neighbor may have gold and yellow mums on the stoop and a lovely autumn wreath on the door...and all of the sudden you're thinking you'd like to visit that neighbor and see if she really IS baking pumpkin bread from scratch.  Because the doorways set the tone for everything that followed.

My favorite doorways are the ones that have really great lighting on or around them.  It just seems to be the ribbon on the package, for me.  And no matter how dark and dreary the night may be, a lighted doorway cuts through the darkness and speaks warmth, expectancy, and welcome to all who pass by.

Life decisions can be like a doorway...sometimes scary and unnerving on this side of things, making you hesitant to pass through into whatever is next OR possibly, excited by the adventure that awaits on the other side.  And sometimes, it's just downright comforting and familiar...giving you a sense that you're coming home.  But no matter the situation, you're never completely sure what will transpire or "who might be home", until you actually pass through that threshold.

I know life can throw some crazy stuff our way.  Sometimes it can be scary and unnerving...sometimes exciting and adventurous...sometimes comforting and familiar.  But no matter how dark and dreary the night may get, I want to remind you that you've got an amazingly beautiful Light over your doorway.  A Light that will show you where to put your feet.  A Light that will cut through the inky black darkness and bring you peace.  A Light that remains on just for YOU throughout the night, until your safe at home inside.  A Light that encourages all who pass by to muster up the courage to make their way over that threshold and into a new adventure.

Decisions can be tough, transitions even harder.  But with the Light shining over your doorway, you won't be barging in where you're not welcome, or walking into some kind of trap.  This isn't Trick or Treat...and anyway, He doesn't work that way.  The Light is there to guide you, to protect you, and to let you know you're welcome any time.  So leave your worry and your stress about the changes that you're facing there on the stoop where they belong...and come on inside...no need to rush...you can take your time...

...'cus after all, "He'll leave the Light on for ya!"

Psalm 119:105  "Your word is a lamp to my feet, and a light for my path."

It's Hard to Wait

My heart hung on a lyric today.  It's from the song Cobra Con on Derek Webb's latest CD, "Stockholm Syndrome".

Cus it is hard to stay
It is hard to wait
To out-love, to out-suffer them

It reminded me of a piece of advice that John & I had been given when he met my circle of closest friends for the first time.  She said, "The Enemy will try to undo your marriage with one simple thought:  It'll be easier with someone else."  Sadly enough, five years later the advice she had given us that day would no longer hold any value for her.  She called it quits and walked away from her husband and two small children, her ministry and spiritual leadership, her friends, family and co-workers.   Because you see, the lyrics are true.  Her advice was true.

In ANY relationship, and especially in marriage, it can be very hard sometimes to stay with it...to wait out the struggle, to out-love the other person when they don't even deserve it, and to be willing to suffer more on their behalf...than it would just be easier to quit.


But it goes well beyond our immediate relationships.  It extends to our friendships and our work relationships...to our family...and to our sacred communities.  Staying can often feel like time is simply standing still..like there are no hands on the clock...and we become impatient.  Sometimes, it can seem that time is moving so slowly, it actually feels like it's moving backwards...and we begin to despair.


You know my friend I mentioned earlier?  She quit and ran, that's true...but all of her best laid plans quickly unraveled on her, and she found herself in a much harder situation than she had ever experienced in her marriage.  The pain was much more intense.  The humiliation was almost unbearable.  The degree of difficulty far greater than she had calculated before she made her move.


You see, it IS harder to stay, it IS harder to wait...to out-love and out-suffer them.  But in the end, all of the staying and waiting and love and suffering will be so worth the sacrifice.  Oddly enough, if we surrender to the process, it was always intended to bring us hope.  But we have to be fully engaged in the process to reap the payoff.  It's a hard scripture to read, even more so to live out...but the principle is nothing but pure truth:

Romans 5:1-5  "Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.  Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."

So when things get really tough, don't give up...hang in there...HOPE is on the way!

A Broken Vessel

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"Lord, make me a vessel that you can shine through..."

It's gonna hurt...a lot.  You'll lose your rights to be a vessel of your own choosing.  That means when all of your shattered pieces are put back together, you might not recognize yourself anymore.  You certainly won't feel as strong as you once did, but what I've re-bonded will actually be stronger than you ever were whole.  Oh, you'll have weak spots, for sure...and you know those cracks left behind by the breaking?  Well, they'll be seen by everyone...everywhere you go.  I know you're gonna hate it for a while, but there's just too many to hide this time. 

And I've got some bad news...I wasn't able to save all of the broken pieces.  Yeah, I know you're disappointed, but to be honest, some of them just weren't worth trying to put back together...they got too damaged in the process.  Some of them were just chunky pieces of dust...and how do you glue dust back togeth--...never mind.  But don't worry...no one but you will miss them, anyway.

Oh, and another thing.  You won't be able to hold water anymore like you used to.  Sorry about that...  Yeah, you're gonna leak...pretty bad, I'm afraid.  Big bonus is, it'll be easier for you to share with the other pots around you than it ever was before!  Sorry.  I didn't mean that at your expense...wait a minute, yes I did.

It's the truth, you know.  As much as you hate to admit it, the broken-and-put-back-together you is much better than the old you, wouldn't you agree?  Of course you would...you feel lighter and freer now, if only you'd fess up to it.

Okay...now, I might be a bit partial on this one, but I just LOVE the way my light shines through you now.  I know, I know, "it's ALL about me"...but when you get right down to it, it IS..isn't it?  There's that awkward Truth thing again...clumsy little fellow.

I know you're feeling ugly and useless right about now.  But that nonsense will pass eventually...and I'm gonna show you some new things that you'll be really, really good at...broken like you are.  Like that captivating light shining thro--...yeah, I'm going on and on about that one.  But it's one of my favorites, you know.

Did I mention that you're beautiful this way?  You're breath-taking.  Stunning, really.  I can't quite seem to stop looking at you.  I just want to sit and stare...  But I know you're not quite sure what to do with that yet...and I know the adjustment is hard...and I know to hear me prattle on about how amazing it is, when all you're feeling right now is crap-py can be somewhat annoying.  But I need you to know one thing:  I'm never gonna stop.  I will NEVER stop being swept off my feet by your beauty.

Well, I actually need you to know TWO things...and the other one is:  I ain't going nowhere.  Well, actually, good grammar would urge me to say that I'm not going anywhere.  But I like "I ain't going nowhere" better, don't you?  Yeah, I thought you would...

New Every Morning

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Lamentations 3:21-26

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.

 They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."

The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him; it
is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.

turmoil |ˈtərˌmoil|

turmoil is such a complex thing.  it's consuming, by nature...with parts that over time become black as death.  it rolls and churns and intertwines in a never-ending upheaval of the soul.  it's outer protrusions are made cold and icy with self-righteous indignation, while the inner core glows with the intense heat of anger and outrage.  it is a wearisome vexation of the heart...searing everything in its path.

Job 3:26  "I have no peace, no quietness; I have no rest, but only turmoil."

Psalm 63:1  "O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water."

Koinonia

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I've been thinking a lot lately about true community.  What it should look like, feel like, be like.  And of course, ultimately, the question comes back around with it's own personal slant.  Who am I in it?  I've shared it before, but I'll share it again, because I just love this quote:

"The key to creating or transforming community is to see the power in the small but important elements of being with others. The shift we seek needs to be embodied in each invitation we make, each relationship we encounter, and each meeting we attend. For at the most operational and practical level, after all the thinking about policy, strategy, mission, and milestones, it gets down to this: How are we going to be when we gather together?  - Peter Block, Community: The Structure of Belonging

...and in my research on the topic, I found myself inspired by the following, written by by Henry H. Tweedy.  So instead of trying to tell you what he said that I found so interesting, I thought I'd just let him say it in his own words:

 "Our task, given specifically by Jesus, is to love one another, which we do when we:

• build each other up ( 1 Thessalonians 5:11; Hebrews 3:13);
• look out for each others' best interest ( Philippians 2:4);
• bear one another's burdens ( Galatians 6:2);
• are kind to each other ( 1 Peter 4:9)
  (this is often linked to the traditional Jewish virtue of hospitality);
• honor and respect one another ( Romans 12:10);
• serve each other ( Galatians 5:13);
• admonish each other ( Colossians 3:16; Romans 15:14);
• confess your sins to each other ( James 5:16);
• forgive each other ( Ephesians 4:32);
• think of one another ( Hebrews 10:24);
• do not judge each other ( Romans 15:13);
• accept each other ( Romans 14:1, 15:7);
• do not stand in each other's way ( Romans 15:13);
• regard each other as more important than oneself (Philippians 2:3).

This 'one anothering' is done in a wide variety of settings. Some of it is done through caring ministries, twelve-step groups, prayer groups, home bible studies, and sometimes just being together and having fun. The core of it is done through groupings that are specially set aside for God; these include house churches, cell churches (house groups with larger group settings for worship, pastoring, and ministry), congregations, parishes (churches for a specific community), campus/student groups, and intentional Christian communities. The church takes different forms to embody Christ in a different cultural or functional setting. You can't "one another" by yourself! It takes another!

The church that prays together stays together; the church that sings together clings together. The church that shares, cares.

As a believer in Christ, you are never alone; you are a citizen of the Kingdom of God, with billions of others throughout history, today, and days to come. This is what Christ says we will be known by. Yet the Church has made a lot of people more alone, ashamed, or rejected. If that's you, you're not alone in feeling alone. And there really are Christians who will accept you, forgive you, perhaps even love you -- and not just a few, but many. We need you; we can't learn or change that part of us without you, we won't be whole without you.

Most people tend to be drawn to a church of 'people like me' -- acting like me, thinking like me, looking like me, working like me, holding to the same doctrine and the same practices as me, having the same needs and corruptions and lunacies as me. Some church growth theorists see this as a good thing. To me, it sounds like something out of a space alien movie -- the Borg Queen would love it. Eeeeeek. Worst, it would have its full share of self-seeking hypocrites, because sometimes I'm one. When our different and very-human behaviors and motives get me frustrated, thinking on that image makes me less arrogant about it.

Because it belongs to a realm other than today's world, the church must be a place where people can still belong. We need to spread the word that life's not about "me". It's about God. And God wants us to be a "we"."

I'm ready to get down and dirty in some real-life-can't-live-without-it-good-bad-and-ugly-your-secret's-safe-with-me-and-I'll-love-you-more-because-of-it kind of community.  I've decided that it's about time I'm known for the way I love, instead of how I judge.

Flowers of the Sun

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In doing a little research on sunflowers, I found some really fascinating information.  I knew I liked these flowers for a good reason!

Sunflowers are one of the only flowers that exhibit heliotropism in the bud stage of growth.  Aren't you impressed by my use of scientific terminology?  :)  But heliotropism is cool!  You see, at sunrise, the faces of most sunflowers are turned towards the east, where the sun rises. Over the course of the day, they follow the sun from east to west, while at night they return to an eastward orientation.  Then as the bud stage ends, the stem stiffens and the blooming stage is reached.  Sadly, once sunflowers have reached their blooming stage, they lose their heliotropic capacity. Eventually, the stem becomes "frozen", typically in an eastward orientation, and the stem and leaves lose their green color.

The wild sunflower, however,  typically doesn't turn toward the sun at all, and its flowering heads may face many directions once it reaches maturity.

Now, I'll admit, all of this information is intriguing, not just from a scientific perspective but from a spiritual one, as well.  It makes me wonder if we as Christ-followers are heliotrophic in nature.  Do we have such an essential connection with the life-giving Source that we fix our gaze upon it in the morning and follow it across the sky from east to west throughout the day?

Then once we're grown and we begin to bloom, do we lose that heliotrophic capacity?  Do we no longer follow the sun across the sky, and allow our blossoming to become the "thing"; locking our focus in a single direction in order to assure success or advancement or security?  Do we become "frozen" in our relentless pursuits, resulting in the loss of color in our stems and leaves?

Or do we find ourselves more likened to the wild sunflower...never really focusing our gaze on the sun at all...finding our flowering heads facing in many different directions as we mature?  Distracted. Confused. Chaotic. Without order, or peace, or purpose.

The truth is:  we were all created to be Flowers of the Sun.  We were fashioned to set our faces like flint in the direction of the sun as it rises each morning and follow it across the sky from east to west throughout the day, returning at night to face the east in anticipation of it's rising the next day.  We were intended to remain tender and flexible enough to be moved by it with ease.  We were meant to source from it's warmth, it's healing properties, its energy and it's sustenance.  We were designed to grow strong and tall...and in the end, to bear fruit.

Funny thing about fruit:  it can be eaten and enjoyed just as it is, or the seeds can be removed and planted to reproduce itself.  Fruit-bearing is not just a functional thing that sneaks in under the radar.  It requires cultivation and care...and a little blood, sweat and tears.  But it was never purposed to be a painful drudgery that would cost us everything and leave us empty. In fact it has the innate power to do just the opposite, to delight...by either producing more sun flowers when planted, or by offering up the seeds that, when roasted, make my husband happy like a giddy school boy!

We are all Flowers of the Sun in the garden of the Lord.  May we set our gaze on Him and follow Him across the sky from East to West throughout the day...and through the night move our faces again toward the east in anticipation of His rising.

Isaiah 50:7
       "Because the Sovereign LORD helps me,
       I will not be disgraced.
       Therefore have I set my face like flint,
       and I know I will not be put to shame.

Attraper Un Nuage (Catching A Cloud)

Simple thought today:  Instead of chasing the wind, how 'bout catching a cloud?  All I know is, it'd sure be fun trying!

Or if you'd like to think of it in Old Testament terms, the cloud could represent the presence of God...and if that's the case, then I'm all about catching that cloud!  I don't know about you, but I want more and more of His presence in my life!

Poursuite du Vent (Chasing the Wind)

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Better one handful with tranquility...

than two handfuls with toil and chasing after the wind.

Ecclesiastes 4:6

In the spirit of "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou", here's a great bluegrass song that captures the essence of the themes found in the pursuits of King Solomon.

(http://new.music.yahoo.com/blue-highway/tracks/chasing-after-the-wind--174242263)

What's kind of ironic is that I'm not even that big of a fan of bluegrass.  But these haunting vocals set such a perfect tone for Solomon's wrestlings with the purpose and meaning of life.

Let's be honest: life is hard...it's empty...it's full of trouble, disappointment and pain.  It will never be everything we've hoped for it to be...because there is only One thing that can be our Everything.  We can chase fame, fortune, family and friendship...but none will satisfy.  We can hope against hope, we can manage to eek out a somewhat positive attitude...and we can believe with all our might that "the sun'll come out tomorrow".  But when it comes right down to it, there is only One in whom we can put our Hope and expect to get any kind of a return.  He is our Purpose, and He gives life true meaning.

To the man who pleases him, God gives wisdom, knowledge and happiness...

Ecclesiastes 2:26 

A New Song

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It was almost 20 years ago, but I can still remember the moment like it was yesterday.  I was stopped at a busy intersection in San Diego, on my way to somewhere else for my job...when I looked out the driver's side window and saw this:  a row of birds on the phone wires.

Now you might say, "Melody, that happens all the time!  What's the big deal?"  Well, the big deal was that out of the dozens and dozens of birds, only one of them was white...and it sat right in the very middle of the flock.

Funny, it's been almost two decades, and that picture is still burned on my brain.  A picture of a little bird being so different from everything around it...and yet completely comfortable to hang out with the rest.

I reminds me that we are fearfully and wonderfully made...that our flawed and imperfect bodies were NOT a mistake...and that we all have something unique to bring, even if it's just a little contrast!  :)  So be 100% genuine YOU...so try to fit in and be like everyone else.  You were created to be a NEW song on the earth, and in the uniqueness of your song, God will be glorified!

Psalm 40

I waited patiently for the LORD; he turned to me and heard my cry...

He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.

Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD.

Blessed is the man who makes the LORD his trust...

The Promise and The Providence