Now that I'm back in the city, I'm continuing to "get cultured."
A friend recommended the new romantic comedy P.S. I Love You. That same friend made it sound like I was going to laugh myself silly because she mentioned that Harry Connick, Jr. had some pretty funny lines. Being a sucker for romantic comedies, I went to see it yesterday.
I think I only laughed at a few lines. I spent the rest of the time digging through my purse for Kleenexes and making sure that my throat hadn't swollen shut. I don't think I've cried through an entire movie like that before. (The only one that might come close is Man Without A Face, which I did not see in the theater.) The gist of P.S. I Love You is sweet, but I think it has been mislabeled as a "romantic comedy." I would have enjoyed it more if I had watched it in the privacy of my own home with a full box of Kleenexes nearby.
Today, I finally made it to the last presentation of God's Trombones at a local theater. For those of you who are unfamiliar with God's Trombones, this particular production was conceived by Rudy Eastman and is described as a "classic holiday celebration based on the Negro sermon poems by James Weldon Johnson."
I was hooked from the moment I stepped into the intimate theater, and it only got better from there. I sat beside the lead actress's grandmother, who is one particularly proud (and entertaining) grandma. She attempted to dialogue with her granddaughter throughout the show and offered up resounding praise every time her granddaughter hit incredible notes. The "soulful" show lived up to its advertising: "a musical celebration that . . . lift[ed my] spirits and rocked [my] soul."
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
A Rare Showing
Last night, an independent filmmaker treated our little town to a showing of his award-winning thesis movie, Doki-Doki, along with approximately twenty minutes of his award-winning upcoming feature, August Evening. The filmmaker, Chris Eska, grew up near my hometown and is the brother of my good friend from high school.
When we were growing up, Chris excelled in math classes and math competitions, so it surprised me when I learned that he was heading to UCLA Film School. But the same focus that he formerly dedicated to math has now spilled over into his movies, which he writes, directs, and edits.
His unique movies tell cultural stories about love and family. The stories are so compelling that the subtitles aren't a necessity but rather aid the audience in grasping some of the subtleties, like portions of the humor in Doki-Doki.
Chris showed the movies as part of a fundraiser for the community's learning center. And based on the well-attended showings, the community is clamoring for more cultural events like this one. Personally, I'm looking forward to seeing the full-length version of August Evening in theaters this spring.
When we were growing up, Chris excelled in math classes and math competitions, so it surprised me when I learned that he was heading to UCLA Film School. But the same focus that he formerly dedicated to math has now spilled over into his movies, which he writes, directs, and edits.
His unique movies tell cultural stories about love and family. The stories are so compelling that the subtitles aren't a necessity but rather aid the audience in grasping some of the subtleties, like portions of the humor in Doki-Doki.
Chris showed the movies as part of a fundraiser for the community's learning center. And based on the well-attended showings, the community is clamoring for more cultural events like this one. Personally, I'm looking forward to seeing the full-length version of August Evening in theaters this spring.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Lessons from the Piano
As a youth, I spent many hours seated at the piano, attempting to learn piece after piece for recitals and contests. I didn't start taking lessons until I was in the fifth grade, which meant that I was about four years behind most of my friends. In an effort to catch up, I took lessons each summer. And amazingly, I eventually caught up with my friends and continued taking lessons long after they lost interest in piano.
Yet, no matter how many hours I practiced, I never reached the point where I could sightread a hymn and play it smoothly the first time through. I struggled to play "like a natural." Instead, playing the piano was always work, and I'm sure it sounded like it as well.
The other day, I sat down at the same piano where I logged countless hours as a tween and teenager. It felt a bit awkward because it's probably been about seven years since I played that piano or any piano for that matter. I attempted to play some songs from books that I used in junior high and high school. And while I played (or tried to play), I made a few interesting observations.
For one, I made the same errors that I made many years ago. The wrong notes stood out audibly and visibly because the books still contained circles around the notes that I had missed when I played the songs for my piano teacher back in the day to "pass off a song." I noticed that my choice to ignore the fingering instructions had resulted in the wrong note resounding. (When the book says to use a 2-5 fingering, the choice to use a 1-5 fingering will always result in discord, as will waiting too long to release the pedal.)
I also noticed that my timing was off. I wanted every chord to be played on the down beat. And so that's when I played them. Nothing makes a song sound totally skewed like mixing up the beat or adding five beats to a 4/4 measure.
After pounding away for a while, I stepped away from the piano and tried to figure out why I was so frustrated.
Part of the problem was that I believed that eight years of piano lessons taken fourteen years ago should enable me to play the piano well today, even despite my lack of practicing. And could it be that those markings in the piano books reminded me of places that I've marked in my Bible that I want to live up to but have failed to put into practice? And that like the fingering pattern instructions, I've often ignored God's instructions? And that my attempts to force the tempo and timing of the songs are a reflection of other times in my life when I've tried to force the timing of events instead of turning over control?
As I pondered these thoughts, I couldn't help but smile. That old piano continues to teach me about music, and now it's teaching me about life. I think I'll be its student for a long time to come.
Yet, no matter how many hours I practiced, I never reached the point where I could sightread a hymn and play it smoothly the first time through. I struggled to play "like a natural." Instead, playing the piano was always work, and I'm sure it sounded like it as well.
The other day, I sat down at the same piano where I logged countless hours as a tween and teenager. It felt a bit awkward because it's probably been about seven years since I played that piano or any piano for that matter. I attempted to play some songs from books that I used in junior high and high school. And while I played (or tried to play), I made a few interesting observations.
For one, I made the same errors that I made many years ago. The wrong notes stood out audibly and visibly because the books still contained circles around the notes that I had missed when I played the songs for my piano teacher back in the day to "pass off a song." I noticed that my choice to ignore the fingering instructions had resulted in the wrong note resounding. (When the book says to use a 2-5 fingering, the choice to use a 1-5 fingering will always result in discord, as will waiting too long to release the pedal.)
I also noticed that my timing was off. I wanted every chord to be played on the down beat. And so that's when I played them. Nothing makes a song sound totally skewed like mixing up the beat or adding five beats to a 4/4 measure.
After pounding away for a while, I stepped away from the piano and tried to figure out why I was so frustrated.
Part of the problem was that I believed that eight years of piano lessons taken fourteen years ago should enable me to play the piano well today, even despite my lack of practicing. And could it be that those markings in the piano books reminded me of places that I've marked in my Bible that I want to live up to but have failed to put into practice? And that like the fingering pattern instructions, I've often ignored God's instructions? And that my attempts to force the tempo and timing of the songs are a reflection of other times in my life when I've tried to force the timing of events instead of turning over control?
As I pondered these thoughts, I couldn't help but smile. That old piano continues to teach me about music, and now it's teaching me about life. I think I'll be its student for a long time to come.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Christmas Traditions
(The Nativity in Ice! at the Gaylord Texan -- 2007)
I arrived "home" Thursday and have spent the past five days relaxing and enjoying time with my family. Normally, it seems like we have so much to do and that we need to rush through each event or task. But this year, we've been able to continue some of our favorite traditions and add a few new ones without feeling rushed.
My family always enjoys playing games, and this year we've played multiple games of Yahtzee, Greedy, Apples to Apples, and Imaginiff. We've eaten all our favorite Christmas treats, including homemade gingerbread cookies, chocolate covered pretzels, spritz cookies, and four-layered dessert. We also participated in the Christmas Eve candlelight service. These family traditions are as familiar as spending time with good friends.
Our new tradition involves gathering each night to read the Advent devotional together. For me, it has been a time to re-center and get my focus off the many secular aspects of the season.
Wherever you are this Christmas Day, I hope that you are having a wonderful time celebrating Christ's birth.
Friday, December 14, 2007
New Favorite Christmas Song
Each Christmas season, I find a new song to add to my collection of "favorite Christmas songs." In the past, I've chosen songs because their melody stuck with me. This year, my chosen song possesses incredible lyrics. Drum roll please for "How Many Kings" by the group Downhere:
Follow the star to a place unexpected
Would you believe, after all we've projected,
A child in a manger?
Lowly and small, the weakest of all
Unlikeliest hero, wrapped in his mother's shawl -
Just a child -
Is this who we've waited for? 'cause...
How many kings step down from their thrones?
How many lords have abandoned their homes?
How many greats have become the least for me?
And how many gods have poured out their hearts
To romance a world that is torn all apart
How many fathers gave up their sons for me?
Bringing our gifts for the newborn Savior
All that we have, whether costly or meek
Because we believe.
Gold for his honor, and frankincense for his pleasure
And myrrh for the cross he will suffer
Do you believe?
Is this who we've waited for?
All for me...
All for you...
----------------------
You can listen to the song here. You can find the song on a compilation album entitled Bethlehem Skyline (2006).
Follow the star to a place unexpected
Would you believe, after all we've projected,
A child in a manger?
Lowly and small, the weakest of all
Unlikeliest hero, wrapped in his mother's shawl -
Just a child -
Is this who we've waited for? 'cause...
How many kings step down from their thrones?
How many lords have abandoned their homes?
How many greats have become the least for me?
And how many gods have poured out their hearts
To romance a world that is torn all apart
How many fathers gave up their sons for me?
Bringing our gifts for the newborn Savior
All that we have, whether costly or meek
Because we believe.
Gold for his honor, and frankincense for his pleasure
And myrrh for the cross he will suffer
Do you believe?
Is this who we've waited for?
All for me...
All for you...
----------------------
You can listen to the song here. You can find the song on a compilation album entitled Bethlehem Skyline (2006).
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Museum Musings
Inside the display case, a thick, circular piece of glass encases a thin sheet of gold that has been intricately cut to depict the scene of Jonah and the whale. A marble casket contains engravings of Pharoah, Moses, and the Israelites. A gold ring boasts a gemstone with the carving XP (chi-rho or Christo).
Yesterday as I strolled the exhibit of the earliest Christian art, I marveled at how so many people responded to the Bible stories that they had heard by using their talent--whether it be painting, sculpting, or jewelry making--to create a lasting work of art that displayed their faith.
I also stood in awe over how such items had withstood the test of time. Many of the items on display dated back to the third through fifth centuries. Yet, they were not discovered or uncovered until almost 1,300 years later. Imagine being the farmer or vineyard owner who was simply going about his business when he discovered an amazing piece of historical biblical art!
What these early Christians did inspires me to repond, not with passivity, but with creative action. I may not have the talent to paint, sculpt, or design jewelry, but I can attempt to craft words and pray that they be used for years to come to tell of His faithfulness.
Yesterday as I strolled the exhibit of the earliest Christian art, I marveled at how so many people responded to the Bible stories that they had heard by using their talent--whether it be painting, sculpting, or jewelry making--to create a lasting work of art that displayed their faith.
I also stood in awe over how such items had withstood the test of time. Many of the items on display dated back to the third through fifth centuries. Yet, they were not discovered or uncovered until almost 1,300 years later. Imagine being the farmer or vineyard owner who was simply going about his business when he discovered an amazing piece of historical biblical art!
What these early Christians did inspires me to repond, not with passivity, but with creative action. I may not have the talent to paint, sculpt, or design jewelry, but I can attempt to craft words and pray that they be used for years to come to tell of His faithfulness.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Sensory Overload
Last weekend, I spent eight hours running errands. The bulk of those related to Christmas. I shipped packages, bought things, returned things, and bought some other things. When I returned home, I felt worn out, as if I had put in more than a full day at work.
Throughout all that driving around, I saw tons of lights, decorations, and people; heard many bells ringing and Christmas carols playing; and fought lots of traffic. It was sensory overload for this minimalist.
Our Advent devotionals last week focused on getting prepared for the holidays so that we can rest in Christ. I am not finished with all my holiday preparations, but I chose to start my rest a little early. And so this week, I've focused on the natural beauty that God has on display every day. Gazing on things like the fall leaves helps the season feel much less hectic. It was the type of rest my sensory overloaded brain needed.
Throughout all that driving around, I saw tons of lights, decorations, and people; heard many bells ringing and Christmas carols playing; and fought lots of traffic. It was sensory overload for this minimalist.
Our Advent devotionals last week focused on getting prepared for the holidays so that we can rest in Christ. I am not finished with all my holiday preparations, but I chose to start my rest a little early. And so this week, I've focused on the natural beauty that God has on display every day. Gazing on things like the fall leaves helps the season feel much less hectic. It was the type of rest my sensory overloaded brain needed.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Firsts
It’s hard for me to believe that Thanksgiving was ten days ago and that I’m just now getting around to writing about it. The reason that I haven’t written until now is that I finally lived in the moment and spent much time simply visiting with my family.
For the first time in six years, my sister came home for Thanksgiving. Because she used to live on the East Coast and now lives on the West Coast, she normally comes home only for Christmas. But this year, she treated us to a visit at Thanksgiving.
And because my sister is the only one in our family who has cooked a turkey, she taught Mom how to cook one. We all pitched in to make the side dishes and desserts, and we created quite a spread. (Only after we had eaten to our hearts’ content did we realize that we had failed to take a picture.)
In addition to our normal tradition of baking while I’m home for Thanksgiving, we created a new family tradition. We are not a family who enjoys fighting crowds, so we did not “drive to the city” to shop at the mall on Black Friday. Instead, we deemed the day “rake and bake” day. We raked for two and a half hours, rested, and then started some of the holiday baking.
I wouldn’t trade that time that I spent with my family for anything. And yet, the planner in me is having trouble dealing with another first: this is the first time that I haven’t gotten my Christmas cards in the mail in time for them to be delivered on December 1. How gross is that? I don’t know where I got that superficial deadline. After all, I don’t win anything for getting my Christmas cards out by a certain date or by being the author of the first Christmas letter to arrive in people’s mailboxes. If anything, I probably perturb people who are still digesting their Thanksgiving.
So this holiday season, I’m trying to truly focus on relationships with my family and friends. And my Christmas cards, well, they’ll get there when they get there.
For the first time in six years, my sister came home for Thanksgiving. Because she used to live on the East Coast and now lives on the West Coast, she normally comes home only for Christmas. But this year, she treated us to a visit at Thanksgiving.
And because my sister is the only one in our family who has cooked a turkey, she taught Mom how to cook one. We all pitched in to make the side dishes and desserts, and we created quite a spread. (Only after we had eaten to our hearts’ content did we realize that we had failed to take a picture.)
In addition to our normal tradition of baking while I’m home for Thanksgiving, we created a new family tradition. We are not a family who enjoys fighting crowds, so we did not “drive to the city” to shop at the mall on Black Friday. Instead, we deemed the day “rake and bake” day. We raked for two and a half hours, rested, and then started some of the holiday baking.
I wouldn’t trade that time that I spent with my family for anything. And yet, the planner in me is having trouble dealing with another first: this is the first time that I haven’t gotten my Christmas cards in the mail in time for them to be delivered on December 1. How gross is that? I don’t know where I got that superficial deadline. After all, I don’t win anything for getting my Christmas cards out by a certain date or by being the author of the first Christmas letter to arrive in people’s mailboxes. If anything, I probably perturb people who are still digesting their Thanksgiving.
So this holiday season, I’m trying to truly focus on relationships with my family and friends. And my Christmas cards, well, they’ll get there when they get there.
Friday, November 30, 2007
The Season of Advent
As I mentioned earlier this month, my writers' group put together an Advent devotional for our church. The introduction and Day 1 are now available online here, and the rest of the devotionals will be uploaded each day throughout the season of Advent. Try incorporating the devotionals as part of your daily routine to prepare your heart this season.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
The 5 P's (Revised)
When I was in high school, my junior English teacher repeated a mantra about the five P's that stuck with me: "Poor Planning Prevents Proper Performance." If I remember correctly, she liked to respond with that phrase any time a student complained that he didn't have enough time to finish a project. In other words, procrastination equaled failure.
I don't like to be one who is caught off guard. I want to know what is around the bend and what I need to do to be prepared for it. So, I find myself constantly looking at the calendar and trying to plan what tasks I need to get done in order to be ready for events that are days, weeks, or months from now.
I try especially hard to implement the five P's as the Christmas season approaches. I want to be ready. I want to have my Christmas letter done and my shopping done so that I can enjoy the events ahead. I usually feel like all my planning pays off and allows me to relax and take in everything that is going on. But sometimes, I have to wonder if I'm missing out by not enjoying the here and now. This very moment.
Last week as I pondered this, I came up with the new five P's: Persistent Planning Prevents Present Pleasure. It painted a whole different perspective. One that made me want to throw away my calendar.
I'm not sure how to strike a balance between the two versions of the five P's. Thankfully, I know where to take this problem.
Father God, as the Christmas season approaches, show me how to balance planning ahead with enjoying the present moment. But most of all, help me not to miss You during this time.
I don't like to be one who is caught off guard. I want to know what is around the bend and what I need to do to be prepared for it. So, I find myself constantly looking at the calendar and trying to plan what tasks I need to get done in order to be ready for events that are days, weeks, or months from now.
I try especially hard to implement the five P's as the Christmas season approaches. I want to be ready. I want to have my Christmas letter done and my shopping done so that I can enjoy the events ahead. I usually feel like all my planning pays off and allows me to relax and take in everything that is going on. But sometimes, I have to wonder if I'm missing out by not enjoying the here and now. This very moment.
Last week as I pondered this, I came up with the new five P's: Persistent Planning Prevents Present Pleasure. It painted a whole different perspective. One that made me want to throw away my calendar.
I'm not sure how to strike a balance between the two versions of the five P's. Thankfully, I know where to take this problem.
Father God, as the Christmas season approaches, show me how to balance planning ahead with enjoying the present moment. But most of all, help me not to miss You during this time.
Friday, November 9, 2007
An Advent Announcement
For all those who listened to me whine about having deadlines and writer's block, good news is here: Our writers' group's Advent devotional is at the printer and will be posted on our blog beginning November 30! The process was an amazing one as we got to see how six women were called upon to use their different gifts to shepherd this idea into a published book. Thanks to Tina's work on the blog, the cover of the devotional (which Andrea designed and which features pictures taken by Tina) has already been posted as a little enticement to get you to come back and read what's behind it. So be sure to mark your calendar and stop back by our blog on November 30!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Right Words
I’ve noticed how my words have changed. My spoken words over the years have fallen into the trap of using teenage lingo, graduated to cool college catch-phrases, matured into legalese, and then succumbed to everyday “normal” language. Obviously, part of that is age; I no longer feel like I’m required to say “ma’am” or “sir” because most of the people I encounter are in my age range.
My written words have also meandered. Sometimes I read papers that I wrote while in high school and college and have to wonder where I came up with such big ideas. I even question whether I have “dumbed down” over the years since college, despite furthering my education.
Tonight, as I am indulging in a leisurely evening of being entertained by the Country Music Awards, I am amazed at the lyrics in all the country songs. The words stick to my mind. Maybe it’s because the songs remind me of home. Maybe it’s due to the melodies. Or maybe it’s the words themselves, telling stories.
I recognize that words have incredible power. The power to encourage, to uplift, to motivate, to inspire. They also wield the power to harm, to hurt, to damage, and to destroy. It is the positive power that I want to tap into when I’m writing and speaking. But often, I find that the potential to slip up and use wrong words keeps me from saying anything at all. This fear of writing or saying the wrong thing often paralyzes me.
Yet, I realize that I should not fear words. After all, I know The Word. And as long as I am tapped into Him, I pray that my mind will be able to transfer life-giving words to those who cross my path.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it. John 1:1-5 (NIV)
My written words have also meandered. Sometimes I read papers that I wrote while in high school and college and have to wonder where I came up with such big ideas. I even question whether I have “dumbed down” over the years since college, despite furthering my education.
Tonight, as I am indulging in a leisurely evening of being entertained by the Country Music Awards, I am amazed at the lyrics in all the country songs. The words stick to my mind. Maybe it’s because the songs remind me of home. Maybe it’s due to the melodies. Or maybe it’s the words themselves, telling stories.
I recognize that words have incredible power. The power to encourage, to uplift, to motivate, to inspire. They also wield the power to harm, to hurt, to damage, and to destroy. It is the positive power that I want to tap into when I’m writing and speaking. But often, I find that the potential to slip up and use wrong words keeps me from saying anything at all. This fear of writing or saying the wrong thing often paralyzes me.
Yet, I realize that I should not fear words. After all, I know The Word. And as long as I am tapped into Him, I pray that my mind will be able to transfer life-giving words to those who cross my path.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it. John 1:1-5 (NIV)
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Life By The Numbers
I’ve had a thing for exactness for most of my life. It developed before I was even two years old. My mom caught me lining up Q-tips end-to-end in the crevice of the border around our coffee table. With that stunning feat under my belt, it was not surprising that I did well in math classes and math competitions in school. Nor was it a stretch when I majored in accounting while in college. But processing life by the numbers at my age . . . it’s a bit odd.
Take for instance the fact that I know how many times the cross-walk signs blink “Don’t Walk.” Or that I often count people at events. Or that last week when Bar Exam results came out, I went straight to the statistics page (after checking the names of the few people I know who took it).
With this weird counting trait, I began to feel a little like Rain Man (or make that Rain Woman). I questioned whether I needed some sort of help. After all, most of my friends do not have near the affinity for numbers that I do.
Then, it hit me: If I am made in God’s image, and He knows the very number of hairs on my head at all times (Matt. 10:30 & Luke 12:7), then maybe, just maybe, I’m okay. Maybe only God and I get a kick out of counting. But, I’m okay with that.
Take for instance the fact that I know how many times the cross-walk signs blink “Don’t Walk.” Or that I often count people at events. Or that last week when Bar Exam results came out, I went straight to the statistics page (after checking the names of the few people I know who took it).
With this weird counting trait, I began to feel a little like Rain Man (or make that Rain Woman). I questioned whether I needed some sort of help. After all, most of my friends do not have near the affinity for numbers that I do.
Then, it hit me: If I am made in God’s image, and He knows the very number of hairs on my head at all times (Matt. 10:30 & Luke 12:7), then maybe, just maybe, I’m okay. Maybe only God and I get a kick out of counting. But, I’m okay with that.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
What A Privilege!
(Ron Hall & Denver Moore at a book signing for their book Same Kind of Different As Me in Dec. 2006 in Aledo, Texas; photo courtesy of my friend Lee Ann Moore)Thanks to the generosity of my writer friend TJ and her husband Corbin, I had the awesome privilege of getting to hear best-selling authors Ron Hall and Denver Moore share their life story tonight, in their own words. In my own words, it was truly amazing!
For those of you who know me, you know that ever since June of last year, I have been trying to get as many people as possible to read Same Kind of Different As Me. I simply cannot describe how wonderful the book is or how potentially life-changing its message is. As soon as I started the book, I called the publisher and ended up getting to attend one of the first book signings in June 2006 at the Murchison Estate in Dallas. So, tonight was actually my third time to get to see the men behind the book. (Does that make me an official groupie or a stalker?)
Tonight was extra special though because I got an update on the book's success and had the opportunity to hear Ron and Denver tell about Miss Debbie's legacy---about how one person can make a difference---and how Denver is continuing to carry Miss Debbie's torch. Some interesting facts: Ron mentioned that their book is third right now on amazon.com in the biography division (#1 is Clarence Thomas's book; #2 is Tony Dungy's book; #3 Denver's; #4 is Sidney Poitier's book; and #5 is Barack Obama's book), and so Denver is ahead of Barack Obama in the polls! Ron also mentioned that they have signed a movie deal with Mark Clayman, the producer of The Pursuit of Happyness.
After Ron, "the opening act for Denver," gave a shortened but brutally honest version of how he met and befriended Denver, Denver put his shy tendencies aside and took the stage while singing, "God is still protecting me; God just kept on blessing me." He commented openly about how he would never have written a book if he had known that he would have to speak on stages. Thankfully, he didn't know about marketing books because we had the rare treat of getting to hear him "preach" (though he didn't like it when people called out "Amen" to the rousing parts of his message). He is truly an instrument of God and a modern-day prophet. It was a delight to see him getting to deliver a message that he is completely passionate about.
A side benefit of the evening was getting to meet and have a wonderful dinner with some of TJ and Corbin's good friends. It was a fun evening that I want to reminisce about and reflect upon for a while, but alas I must get some sleep.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Moody Weather
(the view outside my house)
Who could be discontent with blue clear skies?
That would be me.
On Monday, my birthday, God decided that stormy weather was in order. I was not a happy camper. People who were kind enough to wish me a happy birthday seemed surprised when I responded in a less than joyful way and mentioned the storms outside. Evidently, the storms had made me a bit glum.
So when I heard the forecast for this weekend included brisk mornings and sunny afternoons, I got excited. I geared up yesterday to write about what a super Saturday I had in store. One with no set agenda. A leisurely Saturday with beautiful weather. What more could I ask for?
Maybe no sinus headaches? That would have been a good prayer to pray.
Shortly after I returned from running errands, which included strolling around the nursery picking out pansies, a massive sinus headache started raging in my cheeks and brain. Not long thereafter, nausea set in. I soon found myself making my way to my bed to attempt to find a position that would make my head stop hurting. I went to bed before the sun did.
Thankfully, today the blue clear skies have reappeared, and so far, I don’t have a sinus headache. I’ve managed to plant the pansies that I bought yesterday and to get some chores done. But a little bit of guilt has set in.
Throughout today, God has shown me how quickly I become discontent when everything doesn’t line up like I want it to. I secretly, or maybe not so secretly, pinned my contentment for the weekend on my ability to enjoy it my way (i.e., doing what I wanted to when I wanted to with beautiful weather, all while remaining pain-free). As soon as the headache set in and stole my ability to do pretty much anything, my contentment vanished. At that point, giving thanks in all circumstances was a far cry from the thoughts that were on my mind.
Tomorrow, forecasters predict that the storms will return. But I don’t want my gloomy attitude to return along with them. Instead, I pray that God will give me strength to be content no matter my circumstances. (Philippians 4:11-13)
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Hope Abounds
Last week, I struggled with hope. Not with having it but with trying to explain it. I needed to write a devotional on hope. Examples weren't hard to come by. Neither was the Reason for my hope. But the task---attempting to put into words why hope continues in the face of bad news or after years and years of hoping for the same thing---seemed impossible.
For instance, I know that at least five of my friends are currently struggling with infertility. Each couple longs to have a child. I'm not sure what each couple's "hope-ometer" reading is right now; more than likely, some readings are higher than others depending on the day.
I talked with one of those friends today, and her "hope-ometer" revealed that it was running on empty. She's recently received some difficult news, which made her question whether God loves her. She wondered why God would give her a desire and then not fulfill that desire. She asked whether I had hope that God would fulfill the desire on my heart.
In all honesty, I believe He will. I don't know when or how; I just have the hope that He will. I don't know how God fills up my "hope-ometer"; I just know that He can and that He does. I guess I would equate it with knowing that God can and does heal people, but I don't understand how He does it. Sometimes the healing is instantaneous, and sometimes it takes years, like with my friend Bekah.
I'd love to hear what y'all, my faithful readers, think. What do you know to be true about hope? How have you continued to hope in the face of despair? You don't have to leave your name, but don't be shy about answering.
For instance, I know that at least five of my friends are currently struggling with infertility. Each couple longs to have a child. I'm not sure what each couple's "hope-ometer" reading is right now; more than likely, some readings are higher than others depending on the day.
I talked with one of those friends today, and her "hope-ometer" revealed that it was running on empty. She's recently received some difficult news, which made her question whether God loves her. She wondered why God would give her a desire and then not fulfill that desire. She asked whether I had hope that God would fulfill the desire on my heart.
In all honesty, I believe He will. I don't know when or how; I just have the hope that He will. I don't know how God fills up my "hope-ometer"; I just know that He can and that He does. I guess I would equate it with knowing that God can and does heal people, but I don't understand how He does it. Sometimes the healing is instantaneous, and sometimes it takes years, like with my friend Bekah.
I'd love to hear what y'all, my faithful readers, think. What do you know to be true about hope? How have you continued to hope in the face of despair? You don't have to leave your name, but don't be shy about answering.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Thirty-Three
Thirty-three years ago today, I came into this world. Unlike turning 16, 18, 21, 30, 40, or any of those other decade ages, this particular birthday does not have any sort of special celebration attached to it. I didn’t get a brand new driver’s license or the opportunity to vote. But despite the world’s view that turning 33 is not a big event, in my mind, it is.
For a few months now, I’ve been contemplating this new age. Mostly because Jesus was 33 when he died. I wasn’t thinking about it with a fatalistic attitude of “turn 33 and die”; instead, I was thinking about all that Jesus had accomplished by the time He was 33.
When I was growing up, I didn’t spend much time daydreaming. Instead, I spent my time writing lists with goals I wanted to achieve and the steps I would take to accomplish them. Consequently, I was a bit of an overachiever.
Over the years, I have scaled back and tried to let God direct my paths instead of my lists. So, when this birthday arrived, I didn’t have a vision of what 33 should look like or where I should be at this point in my life. Consequently, I am not disappointed. There are definitely a few things I wish I had in my life already, but I haven’t lost hope that God can still add them to my life in future years. I’m grateful for the people God has put in my life to encourage me and inspire me. So for the most part, I feel content with where God has brought me over the past 33 years. And, I look forward to seeing where He takes me from this point forward.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Three-Day Parenting Adventure
You’ve probably heard the joke about the next Survivor series requiring participants to mother children (i.e., dress, bathe, feed, and diaper them and run them around to numerous activities, etc.). This past week, I felt like my friend S and I were being taped for the pilot episode.
A friend of ours, who is a single mom of three girls (who are soon to be 7, 4, and 2), asked my friend S and me if we would keep her kids Tuesday night through Friday morning while she traveled to and attended a conference for her work. She doesn’t have family here, so she was in a tight spot as to who would help her. Amazingly, she thought the two of us were somehow fit for the task. And, we accepted the challenge.
Our “assignment” of sorts involved me picking up the car seats at school, along with the three girls, taking them home, preparing their dinner, and helping them with their homework. Then, S would arrive and assist me with their homework, giving them baths, and getting them to bed. After the kids were in bed, S and I would eat dinner, clean up the kitchen, make lunches, choose outfits for the girls to wear the next day, and switch out the car seats from my car to S's car. S would spend the night there while I came home to take care of my dog.
I would return each morning around 6:45 after S had gotten the kids up and gotten breakfast ready. We would then get the kids dressed, teeth brushed, and hair fixed before S took them to school.
At the conclusion of the first evening, I had a huge appreciation for single moms. I have no idea how my friend gets all that done by herself. I also quickly realized that I hadn’t babysat in many years and had clearly forgotten some things. Like portions. And cutting up food for a toddler, who just looked at me when I put uncut food on her plate. And asking if anyone needs to go to the bathroom or has a dirty diaper. None of that is on my daily radar.
I also didn’t realize how much homework kids are assigned these days. I remember reading stories out of our Moonbeams reader when I was in first grade. That was the extent of my homework back then. The seven year old was expected to do a handwriting assignment, read for 5 minutes a night, practice ten spelling words, practice her Scripture memory verse, and practice her lines for a school play. Additionally, the four year old had to practice recognizing shapes and letters. By the end of the week, we were all practicing shapes, spelling “m-u-s-t” and “c-r-a-b,” and reciting the Scripture verse:
Amidst all that hard work, good times abounded. I laughed as I watched the two year old dancing and snapping as she watched a video or practicing being grown up as she put on orange lip balm multiple times each morning. I stood amazed as the seven year old imagined and then put together healthy dinners for the group (with my assistance). And, I loved watching the four year old relax and unwind by watching a video.
All in all, it was an amazing opportunity to serve a friend in need. Something that I often fail to do.
You see, I’m wired to get things done and seem to measure my weeks by how much I’ve accomplished on MY to-do list instead of by how much I’ve invested in my relationships. As our church has been studying its values of being God-exalting, Truth-centered, relationally-focused, and service-minded, I have been reminded of how I need to restructure my priorities and be more intentional about being relational instead of organizational.
So please pardon me as I sign off to catch up on my sleep---something I am quite sure that my single-mom friend never gets enough of!
A friend of ours, who is a single mom of three girls (who are soon to be 7, 4, and 2), asked my friend S and me if we would keep her kids Tuesday night through Friday morning while she traveled to and attended a conference for her work. She doesn’t have family here, so she was in a tight spot as to who would help her. Amazingly, she thought the two of us were somehow fit for the task. And, we accepted the challenge.
Our “assignment” of sorts involved me picking up the car seats at school, along with the three girls, taking them home, preparing their dinner, and helping them with their homework. Then, S would arrive and assist me with their homework, giving them baths, and getting them to bed. After the kids were in bed, S and I would eat dinner, clean up the kitchen, make lunches, choose outfits for the girls to wear the next day, and switch out the car seats from my car to S's car. S would spend the night there while I came home to take care of my dog.
I would return each morning around 6:45 after S had gotten the kids up and gotten breakfast ready. We would then get the kids dressed, teeth brushed, and hair fixed before S took them to school.
At the conclusion of the first evening, I had a huge appreciation for single moms. I have no idea how my friend gets all that done by herself. I also quickly realized that I hadn’t babysat in many years and had clearly forgotten some things. Like portions. And cutting up food for a toddler, who just looked at me when I put uncut food on her plate. And asking if anyone needs to go to the bathroom or has a dirty diaper. None of that is on my daily radar.
I also didn’t realize how much homework kids are assigned these days. I remember reading stories out of our Moonbeams reader when I was in first grade. That was the extent of my homework back then. The seven year old was expected to do a handwriting assignment, read for 5 minutes a night, practice ten spelling words, practice her Scripture memory verse, and practice her lines for a school play. Additionally, the four year old had to practice recognizing shapes and letters. By the end of the week, we were all practicing shapes, spelling “m-u-s-t” and “c-r-a-b,” and reciting the Scripture verse:
Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. “Honor your father and mother“—which is the first commandment with a promise—“that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.” (Ephesians 6:1-3)
Amidst all that hard work, good times abounded. I laughed as I watched the two year old dancing and snapping as she watched a video or practicing being grown up as she put on orange lip balm multiple times each morning. I stood amazed as the seven year old imagined and then put together healthy dinners for the group (with my assistance). And, I loved watching the four year old relax and unwind by watching a video.
All in all, it was an amazing opportunity to serve a friend in need. Something that I often fail to do.
You see, I’m wired to get things done and seem to measure my weeks by how much I’ve accomplished on MY to-do list instead of by how much I’ve invested in my relationships. As our church has been studying its values of being God-exalting, Truth-centered, relationally-focused, and service-minded, I have been reminded of how I need to restructure my priorities and be more intentional about being relational instead of organizational.
So please pardon me as I sign off to catch up on my sleep---something I am quite sure that my single-mom friend never gets enough of!
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Book Review: Dinner With A Perfect Stranger
To prepare for author David Gregory’s upcoming visit to our church, earlier this week I read his book entitled Dinner With A Perfect Stranger. In a quick-read encompassing only 100 pages, Gregory spins a fictional tale of a businessman who accepts an invitation to have dinner with Jesus. Throughout the dinner, Jesus answers pressing questions from the businessman about how other religions fail to address some of the deepest needs and desires found in every human. And amidst those answers, the gospel is presented in a simple, direct way.
This book's creative presentation of the gospel message would be a great gift for a friend who needs a gentle nudging towards making a decision to accept Christ as his/her Savior. And for those who have already accepted Christ, this book is a reminder that Christ wants to converse with you daily.
Thankfully, we all have a personal invitation to dine with Christ. Have you accepted your invitation?
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Who Are You Today, Lord?
Last week during my small group, we talked about being Truth-centered. Our discussion guide challenged us to describe how we see God. As we each gave our answers, a common theme arose: how we see God on a particular day depends on what we need Him for. For instance, when I am feeling beaten down and low on energy, I see God as my Sustainer. (Isaiah 46:4) When I am in a budget crunch, I see God as my Provider. When I am feeling scared because of some random noise in the middle of the night, I see God as my Protector. And so on.
It kind of feels gross to limit God like that--to define God by MY standard or need instead of as He truly is. After all, God can do all of those tasks ALL THE TIME. Plus, He is so much more. He is holy, righteous, omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent; He is the Alpha and Omega, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Creator, Redeemer, Savior, and Truth. The list is endless. But hopefully you get the picture.
So why, even after reading Knowledge of the Holy by A.W. Tozer, do I still limit who you are, Lord? Help my small mindedness to embrace Your amazing magnificence. Help me to worship You for who You are instead of who I need You to be. You are so much more.
It kind of feels gross to limit God like that--to define God by MY standard or need instead of as He truly is. After all, God can do all of those tasks ALL THE TIME. Plus, He is so much more. He is holy, righteous, omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent; He is the Alpha and Omega, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Creator, Redeemer, Savior, and Truth. The list is endless. But hopefully you get the picture.
So why, even after reading Knowledge of the Holy by A.W. Tozer, do I still limit who you are, Lord? Help my small mindedness to embrace Your amazing magnificence. Help me to worship You for who You are instead of who I need You to be. You are so much more.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Book Review: Potter Springs
Earlier this week, I raved about Britta Coleman - the teacher. Now, I want to rave about Britta Coleman - the author.
Britta’s award-winning debut novel, entitled Potter Springs, presents a love story filled with broken characters searching for a second chance, searching for grace. Set mainly in small-town Texas, the novel’s main characters convey their desires to be known, rescued, and loved with such authenticity that they reach out to the reader in a subtle, endearing, “we could be friends” kind of way.
Great characters aren’t accidents; they come to life through great writing. And here, the writing is superb. The words pour eloquently off the pages straight into the reader's heart.
In writing this novel, Britta did not leave her deeply grounded faith at the door; instead, it is obvious on every page. The message of grace resounds, and thankfully, it resounds to a larger audience because Britta sought to publish Potter Springs with its redeeming message in the mainstream marketplace. Thus, this enjoyable page-turner will have you believing that “being lost is a good way to start getting found.”
(And for all the Aggies: Britta included a few fun Aggie references in the novel.)
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
"All Circuits Are Busy"
Have you ever felt like your brain might run out of storage space? Like you might need to upgrade your mental hard drive? I felt that way this weekend after attending my first writers’ conference--the North Texas Christian Writers’ Conference.
All day Friday and Saturday, I had the opportunity to take classes from fantastic authors who shared their insight on how to improve, how to get published, and how to stay motivated. The word “overwhelming” comes to mind as I think back on all the information that I tried to absorb, and am still trying to process, in addition to all the neat people that I met.
I think one person in particular sent my mind into my mental overload (the good kind): award-winning author Britta Coleman. I lurked about on her blog prior to the conference and looked forward to the four classes that she was scheduled to teach. Britta shattered any stereotype that great writers aren’t always great teachers. She gave us practical tools to use when writers’ block hits, told us what her journey to publication entailed, and made me believe for the first time that I might actually be able to write fiction. But more importantly, she urged us to expand our vision by encouraging us to read books outside our worldview. I have a lot of work to do in that area and now have a list of at least ten books that I want to read. Britta’s book Potter Springs is at the top of the stack, and I hope to post a book review soon.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to navigate all this new territory by myself; my friend TJ acted as my guide throughout the conference. TJ graciously allowed me to ride with her to the conference and to room with her, which gave me a wonderful opportunity to pick her brain on writing, leading a small group, running a household with four children, reading for pleasure, and shopping. It was my honor and privilege to get to cheer her on as she received first place in the non-fiction articles category of the writing contest held in conjunction with the conference.
After all that learnin’, I was mentally exhausted when I returned home Saturday evening. But my weekend activities didn’t stop there. On Sunday afternoon, my small group threw a baby shower for one of our members, and I met with my writers’ group that evening to continue work on our Advent devotionals. Last night served as errand night, and so tonight is the first night I have had to download.
I am looking forward to having time to recharge, reflect, and get re-centered in the days ahead. And as I do, I’ll be pondering how to expand my worldview and how to be in the world, not of it. I know that’s no easy task. Any thoughts on that?
All day Friday and Saturday, I had the opportunity to take classes from fantastic authors who shared their insight on how to improve, how to get published, and how to stay motivated. The word “overwhelming” comes to mind as I think back on all the information that I tried to absorb, and am still trying to process, in addition to all the neat people that I met.
I think one person in particular sent my mind into my mental overload (the good kind): award-winning author Britta Coleman. I lurked about on her blog prior to the conference and looked forward to the four classes that she was scheduled to teach. Britta shattered any stereotype that great writers aren’t always great teachers. She gave us practical tools to use when writers’ block hits, told us what her journey to publication entailed, and made me believe for the first time that I might actually be able to write fiction. But more importantly, she urged us to expand our vision by encouraging us to read books outside our worldview. I have a lot of work to do in that area and now have a list of at least ten books that I want to read. Britta’s book Potter Springs is at the top of the stack, and I hope to post a book review soon.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to navigate all this new territory by myself; my friend TJ acted as my guide throughout the conference. TJ graciously allowed me to ride with her to the conference and to room with her, which gave me a wonderful opportunity to pick her brain on writing, leading a small group, running a household with four children, reading for pleasure, and shopping. It was my honor and privilege to get to cheer her on as she received first place in the non-fiction articles category of the writing contest held in conjunction with the conference.
After all that learnin’, I was mentally exhausted when I returned home Saturday evening. But my weekend activities didn’t stop there. On Sunday afternoon, my small group threw a baby shower for one of our members, and I met with my writers’ group that evening to continue work on our Advent devotionals. Last night served as errand night, and so tonight is the first night I have had to download.
I am looking forward to having time to recharge, reflect, and get re-centered in the days ahead. And as I do, I’ll be pondering how to expand my worldview and how to be in the world, not of it. I know that’s no easy task. Any thoughts on that?
Friday, September 14, 2007
Nice Matters Award
My fun friend BJ, whom I have yet to meet but know from her fantastic writing, sent me the Nice Matters Award!
"This award is for those bloggers who are nice people; good blog friends and those who inspire good feelings and inspiration. Also for those who are a positive influence on our blogging world. Once you've been awarded please pass it on to 7 others who you feel are deserving of this award."
I award the Nice Matters Award to the following deserving blogs/bloggers:
Who's In Your Self-Portrait?
“Live out your God-created identity.” (Matthew 5:48 - The Message)
After recently visiting an art exhibit at which self-portraits were on display, I wondered what the self-portrait of a writer might look like. I knew that my beginner’s ability would not allow me to create a self-portrait that captured my outward appearance in the same detail as a photograph. So I anticipated using words to paint a picture of who I am--inside and out.
I sat down at my computer and stared at the blank canvas before me. I found words to describe my heart for the hurting and put them on the canvas; I typed words that describe my relational roles; and I included words that encapsulate what I do at my job and how I use my gifts and talents. I continued listing words until I thought the self-portrait looked complete. Upon standing back and glancing over the finished work, I noticed a pattern: my self-portrait included numerous titles.
After seeing all those titles, I questioned: “What would I look like without my titles?”
For example, if I lost my job, how would I describe myself? Would I be humble enough to admit that I was unemployed?
If I lost all of my family and friends and was no longer a daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, sister-in-law, or friend, how would I describe myself?
And if God chose to strip me of my talents and hobbies, would I know who I am?
Simply the thought of being stripped of all those titles made me feel naked, empty, and worthless. I wanted to cling to the original self-portrait and possessed no desire to recreate a self-portrait depicting me after the radical “titlectomy.”
But I know that I should not feel that way. I sensed that if Paul was present, he would repeat to me what he told the Corinthians:
In order to follow Paul’s advice and live detached from the titles that act as yeast in my life, I must recognize that those titles were never meant to satisfy me. By relying on titles to fulfill me, I am squeezing God out of the picture. I am making the self-portrait entirely about me and the empty, earthly titles that I temporarily hold. Such a self-portrait cannot be viewed as attractive because it has squeezed out the Light from which colors reflect.
However, if I allow the Light of the World to define me, rather than the world, the ultimate self-portrait can be revealed: one that contains a reflection of my Maker, who disregarded all titles and chose to refer to Himself as “I AM.”
“Precious Father, I struggle with allowing my identity in You to be enough and often turn to earthly titles for fulfillment. Help me to live out my God-created identity so that my self-portrait is a reflection of You. Amen.”
After recently visiting an art exhibit at which self-portraits were on display, I wondered what the self-portrait of a writer might look like. I knew that my beginner’s ability would not allow me to create a self-portrait that captured my outward appearance in the same detail as a photograph. So I anticipated using words to paint a picture of who I am--inside and out.
I sat down at my computer and stared at the blank canvas before me. I found words to describe my heart for the hurting and put them on the canvas; I typed words that describe my relational roles; and I included words that encapsulate what I do at my job and how I use my gifts and talents. I continued listing words until I thought the self-portrait looked complete. Upon standing back and glancing over the finished work, I noticed a pattern: my self-portrait included numerous titles.
After seeing all those titles, I questioned: “What would I look like without my titles?”
For example, if I lost my job, how would I describe myself? Would I be humble enough to admit that I was unemployed?
If I lost all of my family and friends and was no longer a daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, sister-in-law, or friend, how would I describe myself?
And if God chose to strip me of my talents and hobbies, would I know who I am?
Simply the thought of being stripped of all those titles made me feel naked, empty, and worthless. I wanted to cling to the original self-portrait and possessed no desire to recreate a self-portrait depicting me after the radical “titlectomy.”
But I know that I should not feel that way. I sensed that if Paul was present, he would repeat to me what he told the Corinthians:
Your flip and callous arrogance in these things bothers me. You pass it off as a small thing, but it’s anything but that. Yeast, too, is a “small thing,” but it works its way through a whole batch of bread dough pretty fast. So get rid of this “yeast.” Our true identity is flat and plain, not puffed up with the wrong kind of ingredient. The Messiah, our Passover Lamb, has already been sacrificed for the Passover meal, and we are the Unraised Bread part of the Feast. So let’s live out our part in the Feast, not as raised bread swollen with the yeast of evil, but as flat bread—simple, genuine, unpretentious. (1 Corinthians 5:6 - The Message)
In order to follow Paul’s advice and live detached from the titles that act as yeast in my life, I must recognize that those titles were never meant to satisfy me. By relying on titles to fulfill me, I am squeezing God out of the picture. I am making the self-portrait entirely about me and the empty, earthly titles that I temporarily hold. Such a self-portrait cannot be viewed as attractive because it has squeezed out the Light from which colors reflect.
However, if I allow the Light of the World to define me, rather than the world, the ultimate self-portrait can be revealed: one that contains a reflection of my Maker, who disregarded all titles and chose to refer to Himself as “I AM.”
“Precious Father, I struggle with allowing my identity in You to be enough and often turn to earthly titles for fulfillment. Help me to live out my God-created identity so that my self-portrait is a reflection of You. Amen.”
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Spared
The two-lane road meanders through the southern part of the city, connecting neighborhoods to the southern hospital district. The posted speed limit of forty-five miles an hour feels a bit much as the road curves around a few bends. The road, normally not very busy on a Sunday morning, usually allows quiet contemplation. But not this morning.
Within seconds after making one of the curves, I caught sight of a male driver in a red Ford pick-up truck heading straight at me. In the brief instant that we made eye contact, he gave no indication that he knew that he was in the wrong lane or that he was fearful. I immediately laid on the horn and jumped a curb in an attempt to lessen the blow. When he got to approximately four feet in front of my vehicle, he swerved out of the way. While I was still shaking, I glanced in the rear view mirror and saw that he never even put on his brakes and instead kept going as if nothing had happened.
As I replayed that scene to capture it in words, I felt the breath being sucked out of me. I have no idea whether that driver was on a quest to scare people this morning; if so, mission accomplished. I was still quite shaken when I arrived at church. I kept thanking God, knowing that He had spared me from pain, spending my life in a wheelchair, and possibly even death.
How many times in my life has God spared me from pain or death? I’m sure that any guess I conjured up would be on the low side. Today’s events were no different than the many times before when God has come to my rescue, except that this time I had a front-row seat. I watched the action-packed drama play out right in front of my bumper.
When I arrived back at my house after church, I recognized the magnitude of the words that I say to my dog every day when I leave, “See you later, Annie. GOD WILLING.”
“Thank You, Lord, for being my Rescuer and for sparing me from pain. Thank You for allowing me to see how sweet having a quiet afternoon at home can be in light of this morning’s events. Thank You for giving me a renewed focus to wisely use the time that You have given me on this earth. Amen.”
Within seconds after making one of the curves, I caught sight of a male driver in a red Ford pick-up truck heading straight at me. In the brief instant that we made eye contact, he gave no indication that he knew that he was in the wrong lane or that he was fearful. I immediately laid on the horn and jumped a curb in an attempt to lessen the blow. When he got to approximately four feet in front of my vehicle, he swerved out of the way. While I was still shaking, I glanced in the rear view mirror and saw that he never even put on his brakes and instead kept going as if nothing had happened.
As I replayed that scene to capture it in words, I felt the breath being sucked out of me. I have no idea whether that driver was on a quest to scare people this morning; if so, mission accomplished. I was still quite shaken when I arrived at church. I kept thanking God, knowing that He had spared me from pain, spending my life in a wheelchair, and possibly even death.
How many times in my life has God spared me from pain or death? I’m sure that any guess I conjured up would be on the low side. Today’s events were no different than the many times before when God has come to my rescue, except that this time I had a front-row seat. I watched the action-packed drama play out right in front of my bumper.
When I arrived back at my house after church, I recognized the magnitude of the words that I say to my dog every day when I leave, “See you later, Annie. GOD WILLING.”
“Thank You, Lord, for being my Rescuer and for sparing me from pain. Thank You for allowing me to see how sweet having a quiet afternoon at home can be in light of this morning’s events. Thank You for giving me a renewed focus to wisely use the time that You have given me on this earth. Amen.”
Friday, August 31, 2007
Pruning
"I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.” (John 15:1-2)
Earlier this week, I paid two hard-working men to remove two trees in my backyard. As shown above, only a stump remains. Most people might think it ludicrous to remove two trees that seem to be healthy. But these trees had a family secret.
Earlier this week, I paid two hard-working men to remove two trees in my backyard. As shown above, only a stump remains. Most people might think it ludicrous to remove two trees that seem to be healthy. But these trees had a family secret.
They were hackberry trees. And for those of you who aren’t familiar with the tactics of hackberry trees, here’s a bit of their family history:
Hackberry is a weak tree [that is] subject to split and which [is] vulnerable to major wind and ice damage. Hackberry bark is very thin[;] the tree damages easily and is susceptible to disease, eventual rot[,] and catastrophic limb loss. Roots can raise sidewalks and interfere with mowing. The tree is messy with an abundant loss of small limbs and fruit each year.
The rains this summer caused the two hackberry trees to have major growth spurts and made them soar to scary heights, which in turn made them more vulnerable to splitting in the very near future. So I decided that it was time to take preventative action to reduce the chance of them collapsing on my house.
Although my backyard is now completely barren, my outlook is not. I’m excited about the prospect of being able to plant grass in the spring and of having it grow. Maybe I’ll try my luck with other plants as well. Or maybe even a garden could be in my backyard’s future.
But none of that could even be considered while the two hackberry trees were growing there. They blocked out light, and thus life.
I like that the tree removal coincided with the beginning of fall (though not technically here until September 23 or much later in Texas). It reminded me of how the leaves will soon fall off the non-evergreen trees, causing them to be bare, but only for a season. The “death” of the leaves allows for new growth in the spring.
As with all good metaphors from nature, I’ve been pondering what pruning I need to do in my own life in order to be more fruitful. Are there things on my schedule that could be trimmed in order to allow me to use my time or my talents in better ways? What relationships do I need to cut off and which ones should I invest more time in so that they can blossom? There’s always some pruning to be done to my budget, but am I willing to stick to it?
Throughout my ponderings this week, I feel like God has been preparing me for a season (or maybe longer) of pruning. I pray that He will be gentle and that the end result would glorify Him. I definitely feel like a work in progress.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Daddy's Girl
Four years ago today, the phone call came. I had just faxed in a medical power of attorney for my dad as a precaution when the phone rang at my desk at work. The voice on the other end said that my dad had been rushed to the hospital in San Antonio. Within the hour, a minister called to tell me that my father had passed away. A pulmonary embolism, a side effect of his hip replacement surgery, had taken his life. On the day of his funeral, only a few family and friends gathered. The disease that had claimed residence in his mind twenty-two years earlier had taken him away from his friends and from me.
My dad taught auto mechanics at the local high school for twelve years prior to the disease, and during that time, everyone knew and loved him. He never met a Chevrolet that he couldn’t fix, and he had the trophies from car repair competitions to prove it. We couldn’t drive through town without him waving at everyone because he knew everyone and their cars as well.
After he was diagnosed with cerebral Whipple’s disease back in the 80s, a lot of his personality changed. I was only in first grade, and so he became kind of scary to me. I felt as if the Daddy I knew left in the middle of one night by ambulance and never came back, though he was physically present for a while after that.
But eventually, he had to be put in a nursing home while he was still in his forties, knowing that he didn’t really fit there but that he couldn’t function in society either. Somehow in that misfit place, he managed to find his way and keep connected to the life he once had. For instance, he kept tabs on everyone back in his home town by reading the paper, even though most of his friends didn’t keep up with or keep in touch with him. The Cowboys had always been and continued to be his team, no matter how badly they played. Other things that the disease couldn’t take were his ability to diagnose car problems, his craving for sweets, especially strawberry milkshakes from Dairy Queen, and his ability to leave one bite of a meal. And, amazingly he held onto his faith, though it was a bit distorted as a result of his illness.
When I think back on my dad’s life, it makes me very sad to think that he never had the chance to teach me how to dance and to be present at all my school events that he heard about and that brought him joy, and he won’t be there to walk me down the aisle whenever my wedding day comes.
But I am so thankful that God left some reminders of him in my life. I need only look at my feet and see my webbed toes to be reminded that they came from my dad, as did my height. I inherited his ability to leave one bite of a meal uneaten and his knack for keeping a place, especially a garage, neat and tidy. And I have a sneaking suspicion that my sister’s and my ability to identify cars at night by their headlights (though she’s much better at it than I am) came from my dad.
I didn’t do the best job of honoring my father while he was on this earth. I can only do my best to honor him now and keep the memories of him alive. And for today, that’s exactly what I’m choosing to do.
My dad taught auto mechanics at the local high school for twelve years prior to the disease, and during that time, everyone knew and loved him. He never met a Chevrolet that he couldn’t fix, and he had the trophies from car repair competitions to prove it. We couldn’t drive through town without him waving at everyone because he knew everyone and their cars as well.
After he was diagnosed with cerebral Whipple’s disease back in the 80s, a lot of his personality changed. I was only in first grade, and so he became kind of scary to me. I felt as if the Daddy I knew left in the middle of one night by ambulance and never came back, though he was physically present for a while after that.
But eventually, he had to be put in a nursing home while he was still in his forties, knowing that he didn’t really fit there but that he couldn’t function in society either. Somehow in that misfit place, he managed to find his way and keep connected to the life he once had. For instance, he kept tabs on everyone back in his home town by reading the paper, even though most of his friends didn’t keep up with or keep in touch with him. The Cowboys had always been and continued to be his team, no matter how badly they played. Other things that the disease couldn’t take were his ability to diagnose car problems, his craving for sweets, especially strawberry milkshakes from Dairy Queen, and his ability to leave one bite of a meal. And, amazingly he held onto his faith, though it was a bit distorted as a result of his illness.
When I think back on my dad’s life, it makes me very sad to think that he never had the chance to teach me how to dance and to be present at all my school events that he heard about and that brought him joy, and he won’t be there to walk me down the aisle whenever my wedding day comes.
But I am so thankful that God left some reminders of him in my life. I need only look at my feet and see my webbed toes to be reminded that they came from my dad, as did my height. I inherited his ability to leave one bite of a meal uneaten and his knack for keeping a place, especially a garage, neat and tidy. And I have a sneaking suspicion that my sister’s and my ability to identify cars at night by their headlights (though she’s much better at it than I am) came from my dad.
I didn’t do the best job of honoring my father while he was on this earth. I can only do my best to honor him now and keep the memories of him alive. And for today, that’s exactly what I’m choosing to do.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Happy Birthday to . . .
My mother!
Although we celebrated my mother’s birthday back in June so that her sisters and other relatives could come surprise her, today is her actual birthday. I’ve been thinking about how I could honor her on her special day and thought I’d share a portion of the wonderful legacy that she has bestowed upon my sister and me.
One thing that I love about my mother is that she leads by example and does so in so many areas of her life. For one, she is a woman of strong convictions, but she does not force them upon others. (Although my sister says there is some sort of eyebrow raising that occurs to indicate Mother’s displeasure; however, I am not familiar with it.)
At her job, she exemplifies what it means to be loyal and what it means to serve. She has worked at the same job for almost forty years, helping others learn to use their arms again after a stroke or an accident. She cares deeply about her patients, and it is evident in her work ethic.
With what God has blessed her with, she has demonstrated what it means to be a good steward. She takes good care of herself and manages money incredibly well. Raising two daughters and sending them to college on a single income without taking on debt is nothing short of miraculous, and she’d be the first to give the praise and glory to God for His financial provision as well as for healing her from cancer four years ago.
In her free time, she somehow manages to bless others with her hobbies--whether it be baking a treat for someone‘s special day, writing in calligraphy on a card, doing counted crossstitch to give as a gift, or loaning out a great book that she’s read and recommends.
And all of her leading by example is covered by prayer as she is a devout prayer warrior, whom I am grateful to have praying for me!
So on this her special day, we honor her and thank her for her amazing legacy, for knowing our hearts, and for loving us well!!!
With much love,
BITS (Bluebonnet In The Snow) and BITS-E
Although we celebrated my mother’s birthday back in June so that her sisters and other relatives could come surprise her, today is her actual birthday. I’ve been thinking about how I could honor her on her special day and thought I’d share a portion of the wonderful legacy that she has bestowed upon my sister and me.
One thing that I love about my mother is that she leads by example and does so in so many areas of her life. For one, she is a woman of strong convictions, but she does not force them upon others. (Although my sister says there is some sort of eyebrow raising that occurs to indicate Mother’s displeasure; however, I am not familiar with it.)
At her job, she exemplifies what it means to be loyal and what it means to serve. She has worked at the same job for almost forty years, helping others learn to use their arms again after a stroke or an accident. She cares deeply about her patients, and it is evident in her work ethic.
With what God has blessed her with, she has demonstrated what it means to be a good steward. She takes good care of herself and manages money incredibly well. Raising two daughters and sending them to college on a single income without taking on debt is nothing short of miraculous, and she’d be the first to give the praise and glory to God for His financial provision as well as for healing her from cancer four years ago.
In her free time, she somehow manages to bless others with her hobbies--whether it be baking a treat for someone‘s special day, writing in calligraphy on a card, doing counted crossstitch to give as a gift, or loaning out a great book that she’s read and recommends.
And all of her leading by example is covered by prayer as she is a devout prayer warrior, whom I am grateful to have praying for me!
So on this her special day, we honor her and thank her for her amazing legacy, for knowing our hearts, and for loving us well!!!
With much love,
BITS (Bluebonnet In The Snow) and BITS-E
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Rebellion
Lately, I seem to have developed a love-hate relationship with deadlines. I meet them, but it’s not a pretty process.
When I have a deadline, like the one set for tomorrow, I take out my writing project and then go through the following steps:
All of this behavior boils down to rebellion. And rebellion, at its root, is a failure to submit to authority. Not a pretty picture.
So, I’m going to try to get back on task and rebel against my rebellion, if that’s possible. While I’m doing that, consider what you rebel against. Do you have trouble meeting deadlines, obeying speed limit signs, complying with library or DVD rental due dates, or submitting to authority in general? I’d love to hear what causes you to rebel and how you combat it.
When I have a deadline, like the one set for tomorrow, I take out my writing project and then go through the following steps:
- My mind thinks of at least two or three new writing projects that I would like to start, so I begin an outline for each new project.
- I decide to check all of my blog feeds, multiple times.
- I then check my email, multiple times.
- And at the end of that, I try to go back to the project with the looming deadline. At least for a little bit, until I decide to write a blog post (like this one) or the urge to surf the internet hits again.
Inherently, I like the idea of deadlines because it means that a task will get done and that I can check it off my to-do list. However, in order to meet a deadline, I can’t be complacent; I must take some action. That’s the part that I seem to have trouble with. Not that I don’t want to do the task per se, but that I don’t want to do it on someone else’s timeline. (Yet, with this deadline, I even had a bit of a say in setting it.)
All of this behavior boils down to rebellion. And rebellion, at its root, is a failure to submit to authority. Not a pretty picture.
So, I’m going to try to get back on task and rebel against my rebellion, if that’s possible. While I’m doing that, consider what you rebel against. Do you have trouble meeting deadlines, obeying speed limit signs, complying with library or DVD rental due dates, or submitting to authority in general? I’d love to hear what causes you to rebel and how you combat it.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Charting Growth
My pastor briefly mentioned in his sermon a couple of weeks ago that you can’t watch growth; you can only measure it after the fact. The illustration that he used was that of being told that his children had grown; however, he hadn’t seen the growth in their height because he is around his children all the time.
Along the same lines, I recall a bold statement by author and speaker Angela Thomas who spoke at a conference that I attended. She shared about how she desired to be changed each year such that the people she spoke to one year would recognize her in future years at conferences but would be able to tell that there was something different about her.
I want that same thing too. And to some degree, I can tell that I’ve grown. If I think back to what I was like in high school, I can definitely see that I am not the same person. I am a little less self-absorbed, I’m not as OCD with cleaning (though I still like to keep things organized), I’ve switched from being a cat person to a dog person, and I’ve broadened my palette and actually eat some vegetables. None of those things happened overnight.
And yet, somehow, I get frustrated with my spiritual growth because it doesn’t happen fast enough. Becoming more like Jesus is difficult in our fast-paced world because we want an instant change, or at least I do. I don’t want to hear that it is a process. It seems like it doesn’t count if it isn’t a dramatic transformation like Saul/Paul’s encounter on the road to Damascus:
Although I haven’t had instant change like Paul, I would be remiss if I said that I haven’t grown spiritually. In the past seven or eight years, God has stretched me in some interesting ways. He’s challenged me physically. He’s challenged me mentally. And He’s challenged me emotionally.
In the midst of those challenges, I have had some failures. I have given in to fear at times, sometimes to the point of anxiety and more health issues. I have given in to self-reliance at times, only to see that I can’t change myself by myself no matter how many checklists I create.
And so in taking my personal inventory and checking for growth, I can definitely see that God has been faithful. I don’t know what I’ll be “when I grow up,” but I hope I look more like Christ.
“Thank You Father for being faithful to work in me amidst my failures and backsliding. It is You who makes forward progress and all growth possible. Give me eyes to see the growth in others and encourage them in their spiritual walks.”
Along the same lines, I recall a bold statement by author and speaker Angela Thomas who spoke at a conference that I attended. She shared about how she desired to be changed each year such that the people she spoke to one year would recognize her in future years at conferences but would be able to tell that there was something different about her.
I want that same thing too. And to some degree, I can tell that I’ve grown. If I think back to what I was like in high school, I can definitely see that I am not the same person. I am a little less self-absorbed, I’m not as OCD with cleaning (though I still like to keep things organized), I’ve switched from being a cat person to a dog person, and I’ve broadened my palette and actually eat some vegetables. None of those things happened overnight.
And yet, somehow, I get frustrated with my spiritual growth because it doesn’t happen fast enough. Becoming more like Jesus is difficult in our fast-paced world because we want an instant change, or at least I do. I don’t want to hear that it is a process. It seems like it doesn’t count if it isn’t a dramatic transformation like Saul/Paul’s encounter on the road to Damascus:
Then Ananias went to the house and entered it. Placing his hands on Saul, he said, "Brother Saul, the Lord—Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here—has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit." Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul's eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength.
Saul spent several days with the disciples in Damascus. At once he began to preach in the synagogues that Jesus is the Son of God. All those who heard him were astonished and asked, "Isn't he the man who raised havoc in Jerusalem among those who call on this name? And hasn't he come here to take them as prisoners to the chief priests?" Yet Saul grew more and more powerful and baffled the Jews living in Damascus by proving that Jesus is the Christ. (Acts 9:17-22)
Although I haven’t had instant change like Paul, I would be remiss if I said that I haven’t grown spiritually. In the past seven or eight years, God has stretched me in some interesting ways. He’s challenged me physically. He’s challenged me mentally. And He’s challenged me emotionally.
In the midst of those challenges, I have had some failures. I have given in to fear at times, sometimes to the point of anxiety and more health issues. I have given in to self-reliance at times, only to see that I can’t change myself by myself no matter how many checklists I create.
And so in taking my personal inventory and checking for growth, I can definitely see that God has been faithful. I don’t know what I’ll be “when I grow up,” but I hope I look more like Christ.
“Thank You Father for being faithful to work in me amidst my failures and backsliding. It is You who makes forward progress and all growth possible. Give me eyes to see the growth in others and encourage them in their spiritual walks.”
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
The Gift of Believing
I’m reading Blue Like Jazz a second time because my small group wanted to discuss it. After re-reading the first five chapters, one thing that has been impressed upon me is how God opened my heart to believe that Jesus is His Son and that He had to die on a cross for my sins. I didn’t struggle with believing that when I made a “public” decision to follow Christ on Christmas Day 1988. And today I still don’t struggle with believing that.
By saying that, I don’t mean that I completely understand grace or that I fully understand the ins and outs of the Trinity. I still have a lot to learn about grace and how to show it more often to those in my life, and I probably have even more to learn about the Trinity than I can grasp. But the concept of Jesus as my Savior came naturally.
I now know that was a gift.
Some people desperately struggle with making sense of Christianity and believing. Some people are just wired that way. Wanting to have good proof and to make logical sense of things before grabbing hold and believing.
In contrast to my life now, I didn’t ask many questions when I was growing up. If a teacher told me something or if I read something in a book, I didn’t question it. I guess I just had “childlike faith.”
Ever since college, I’ve had professions that require me to ask questions in order for me to be able to do my job. That tendency has carried over into many of my relationships, including my relationship with God. But the questions I ask today are geared more toward what I need to be doing to glorify Him and how I can walk more closely with Him.
“So Father, thank You for giving me the gift of believing in You and Your Son. Help me to be patient with those who struggle to believe in You and to point them toward You in whatever way I can.”
By saying that, I don’t mean that I completely understand grace or that I fully understand the ins and outs of the Trinity. I still have a lot to learn about grace and how to show it more often to those in my life, and I probably have even more to learn about the Trinity than I can grasp. But the concept of Jesus as my Savior came naturally.
I now know that was a gift.
Some people desperately struggle with making sense of Christianity and believing. Some people are just wired that way. Wanting to have good proof and to make logical sense of things before grabbing hold and believing.
In contrast to my life now, I didn’t ask many questions when I was growing up. If a teacher told me something or if I read something in a book, I didn’t question it. I guess I just had “childlike faith.”
Ever since college, I’ve had professions that require me to ask questions in order for me to be able to do my job. That tendency has carried over into many of my relationships, including my relationship with God. But the questions I ask today are geared more toward what I need to be doing to glorify Him and how I can walk more closely with Him.
“So Father, thank You for giving me the gift of believing in You and Your Son. Help me to be patient with those who struggle to believe in You and to point them toward You in whatever way I can.”
Monday, August 6, 2007
Dependence
Today I arrived at work and found that our computers were down. The computer “migration” that was scheduled for the weekend encountered some difficulties and had to continue through today. That left us to ponder what tasks we could do without a computer.
The answer was clear: very few.
It was a bit stunning to see how dependent we have become on computers. Not just as a means of communicating, but as a way--the way--we do our jobs. My job is not in high-tech and was able to be performed before computers were invented. So, I know that it is possible to work without a computer; it’s just that it takes sooooo much longer. And the end product has to be put on the computer anyway to be disseminated to others.
All of this got me thinking about how much time I spend on a computer daily versus how much time I spend with God. It’s obvious from the above that I am fairly dependent on my computer and pretty lost without it. But can I honestly say the same about God? Do I depend on Him like I should? Do I notice when I’m wandering around on my own? Do I feel like I can’t live without Him?
If I’m truthful, some days I’m more dependent than others. Some days I’m totally independent of God, depending completely on my self. Those aren’t days I’m proud of. Thankfully though, most days God gives me at least a few reminders that I need to depend on Him by putting some big tasks before me--tasks that I know I can’t do on my own. But just as I “need” the computer for simple e-mails as well as complex documents, I truly need God for every task, big or small. I just need to get into that mindset.
The answer was clear: very few.
It was a bit stunning to see how dependent we have become on computers. Not just as a means of communicating, but as a way--the way--we do our jobs. My job is not in high-tech and was able to be performed before computers were invented. So, I know that it is possible to work without a computer; it’s just that it takes sooooo much longer. And the end product has to be put on the computer anyway to be disseminated to others.
All of this got me thinking about how much time I spend on a computer daily versus how much time I spend with God. It’s obvious from the above that I am fairly dependent on my computer and pretty lost without it. But can I honestly say the same about God? Do I depend on Him like I should? Do I notice when I’m wandering around on my own? Do I feel like I can’t live without Him?
If I’m truthful, some days I’m more dependent than others. Some days I’m totally independent of God, depending completely on my self. Those aren’t days I’m proud of. Thankfully though, most days God gives me at least a few reminders that I need to depend on Him by putting some big tasks before me--tasks that I know I can’t do on my own. But just as I “need” the computer for simple e-mails as well as complex documents, I truly need God for every task, big or small. I just need to get into that mindset.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
"On" Living
One of my favorite things to do on the weekend is to watch a good game. During the fall, it’s college football, especially Big 12 games. In the summer, it’s golf and tennis. But I’m more drawn to watching when “my” team or individual is “on.”
By “on” I don’t mean that the team or individual is merely receiving television coverage. By “on” I’m talking about when the team or individual is in the groove and is playing at the top of their game. Like today with Tiger Woods at the top of the leader board blowing away the competition. Or like the 2005 college football season when the Longhorns went undefeated and won the Rose Bowl with Vince Young at the helm.
But I don’t just follow those who are known for being the best. I followed Venus Williams who had an amazing come-back this year at Wimbledon in spite of being ranked 31st. And I followed Boise State last year beginning in early October when they crept into the top 20 rankings in college football and eventually went on to stun the Oklahoma Sooners in the Fiesta Bowl.
Watching these teams and players when they are “on” got me thinking: If it is this much fun for me to watch them do their “thing” and do it well, how much pleasure must God get out of seeing the rest of us (whose daily lives are not broadcast on television) do our particular “thing” and do it well?
Like the person with a gifted singing voice who blesses the congregation with special music.
Or the person with the gift of administration who works behind the scenes to make sure things run smoothly.
Or those who volunteer their time to help others.
Or working parents who manage to save a little energy so that they can play with their children when they get home.
What if everyday Christians lived an “on” life each day using their God-given talents for His glory? What would that look like?
I know it wouldn’t be easy, but isn’t it worth striving for? After all, the heavenly rewards are far better than winning any sporting event, even those with a $35 million purse.
By “on” I don’t mean that the team or individual is merely receiving television coverage. By “on” I’m talking about when the team or individual is in the groove and is playing at the top of their game. Like today with Tiger Woods at the top of the leader board blowing away the competition. Or like the 2005 college football season when the Longhorns went undefeated and won the Rose Bowl with Vince Young at the helm.
But I don’t just follow those who are known for being the best. I followed Venus Williams who had an amazing come-back this year at Wimbledon in spite of being ranked 31st. And I followed Boise State last year beginning in early October when they crept into the top 20 rankings in college football and eventually went on to stun the Oklahoma Sooners in the Fiesta Bowl.
Watching these teams and players when they are “on” got me thinking: If it is this much fun for me to watch them do their “thing” and do it well, how much pleasure must God get out of seeing the rest of us (whose daily lives are not broadcast on television) do our particular “thing” and do it well?
Like the person with a gifted singing voice who blesses the congregation with special music.
Or the person with the gift of administration who works behind the scenes to make sure things run smoothly.
Or those who volunteer their time to help others.
Or working parents who manage to save a little energy so that they can play with their children when they get home.
What if everyday Christians lived an “on” life each day using their God-given talents for His glory? What would that look like?
I know it wouldn’t be easy, but isn’t it worth striving for? After all, the heavenly rewards are far better than winning any sporting event, even those with a $35 million purse.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Looking Up
I noticed the other day that I’ve fallen into a bad habit.
Whenever I take my dog for a walk, I keep my eyes on the ground. I’m constantly scouring the ground around us to see if there is anything that Annie might possibly decide to rescue or eat. She’s a golden retriever, so she feels that it is her task in life to bring me “treasures,” unless she happens to discern that such treasures are edible, at which point she eats that treasure and goes in search of a new treasure that she can bring to me.
And so our walk goes something like this, “No. . . . Don’t eat grass. . . . Drop it. . . . [goes a few steps without trying to retrieve anything] Good girl.” Repeat phrases until we have made it back home.
I know that part of this is due to her upbringing, but that’s not my point.
My point is that for a brief second the other evening, I took my eyes off the ground and looked up. At that moment, God took my breath away. He had painted one of the most gorgeous sunsets that we’ve had all summer. And I almost missed it.
It made me wonder how many gifts from God I’ve missed because I haven’t taken the time to get my eyes off myself or my circumstances and simply look up. Besides sunrises and sunsets, I bet I’ve missed a bunch of smiles. There have probably been rainbows and butterflies and all sorts of neat and beautiful things that I've missed out on.
I don’t want to miss out on these treasures any longer. And so as I begin to lift up my eyes more often, I challenge you to do the same and let me know what you see.
"I lift up my eyes to the hills--
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of Heaven and earth."
--Psalm 121:1-2
Whenever I take my dog for a walk, I keep my eyes on the ground. I’m constantly scouring the ground around us to see if there is anything that Annie might possibly decide to rescue or eat. She’s a golden retriever, so she feels that it is her task in life to bring me “treasures,” unless she happens to discern that such treasures are edible, at which point she eats that treasure and goes in search of a new treasure that she can bring to me.
And so our walk goes something like this, “No. . . . Don’t eat grass. . . . Drop it. . . . [goes a few steps without trying to retrieve anything] Good girl.” Repeat phrases until we have made it back home.
I know that part of this is due to her upbringing, but that’s not my point.
My point is that for a brief second the other evening, I took my eyes off the ground and looked up. At that moment, God took my breath away. He had painted one of the most gorgeous sunsets that we’ve had all summer. And I almost missed it.
It made me wonder how many gifts from God I’ve missed because I haven’t taken the time to get my eyes off myself or my circumstances and simply look up. Besides sunrises and sunsets, I bet I’ve missed a bunch of smiles. There have probably been rainbows and butterflies and all sorts of neat and beautiful things that I've missed out on.
I don’t want to miss out on these treasures any longer. And so as I begin to lift up my eyes more often, I challenge you to do the same and let me know what you see.
"I lift up my eyes to the hills--
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of Heaven and earth."
--Psalm 121:1-2
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Pick Up Authentic Parenting
The book I discussed on Monday, Authentic Parenting in a Post-Modern Culture, by Mary E. DeMuth is available now. You can purchase your autographed copy directly from Mary by clicking on the title in the previous sentence. I encourage you to pick it up today!
Monday, July 30, 2007
And Now I Present . . .
Mary E. DeMuth was the lady in the photo that I posted yesterday. She is a follower of Jesus and is blessed with a wonderful gift for writing. Both fiction and nonfiction.
As shown above, her most recent book is entitled Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture. When Mary was asked during an interview about why she decided to write this particular book in light of the numerous parenting books that are already on the market, she said,
I always struggle when I write a parenting book because I feel so darned small and weak. I don’t parent perfectly. But, we did live through two and half years in France, the hotbed of hyper-postmodernity. We had to learn how to parent our kids in that culture. It occurred to me that the things we learned would be helpful to American parents too.
In Authentic Parenting, she explains how parents can help their children prepare for the world outside their door. Yet, she does this without falling into the trite, formulaic x-number-of-steps approach. Instead, she unpacks the stories from her family's time in France, relaying their triumphs as well as their failures. And while she is unpacking their stories, she effortlessly weaves in Scripture and its application to today's culture as she urges parents to do the following:
**Talk to your kids. Listen. Share your story.
**Dare to believe that God has much to teach you through your kids. Be humble enough to learn from them.
**Create a haven for your kids, an oasis in your home that protects, supports, and gives kids space to be themselves. Take seriously the mandate that you are responsible for the soul-nurturing of your children.
**Teach your children to joyfully engage their world, while holding tightly to Jesus’ hand. Teaching this comes primarily from modeling it in your own life. Do you engage your neighbors? Are you more interested in God’s kingdom than your own?
**Admit your failures openly with your children, showing how much you need Jesus to live your daily life.
Throughout the book, I love how Mary doesn't come across as the know-it-all who has all the answers for parenting. Her book does not aim to present the "perfect parent to-do list." Instead, as the book's title aptly states, the advice that Mary shares is that of Authentic Parenting. And yet, I was amazed at how many of the practical ways that Mary provided for parents to use with their children would benefit individuals who don't have children by allowing them to draw closer to Christ in their own spiritual walk.
At its core, Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture is timely, relevant, practical, and encouraging. And because of those qualities, the book will enlighten all who read it.
If you'd like to learn more about Mary E. DeMuth and her other works, visit her crazy blog here. And for some other views on the book, check out the other blogs participating on the Authentic Parenting Tour this week. For a complete listing of the blogs participating in the six week tour, visit here.
Abundant Blessings
Actual Unretouched Photo
Bluebonnet in the Snow
child of divorce/child of god
Geaux2Girl
Good Word Editing
Halland
RappFamilyAixtremeLife
Ripples and Reflections
Spaghettipie
So Many Books...So Little Time
The Point
Tiffany Colter
Toni V. Lee
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Setting the Stage
Who is the lady in the picture?
She’s an author who “oozes Jesus” as one of my friends so aptly put it. And after reading this author’s new book, as well as her daily blog for the past four months, I’d have to agree.
Did I forget to mention her name? No, I purposely withheld it and the name of her new book so that you’d return tomorrow for answers. See you then!
Friday, July 27, 2007
Called To Pray
My mentor gave me a copy of a sermon that Max Lucado delivered entitled “Esther: Called to Pray.” Using stories from the biblical book of Esther, it focuses on how God brings people into our lives and places us in situations so that we will take the opportunity to pray. Lucado states,
For instance, today was our clerk’s last day. Our clerks always work for just a year, and then they go out to spread their wings. It is a difficult transition for me because I have enjoyed working with each of the five clerks we’ve had thus far. Each one has brought a different vibe to our pod. And at the end of each year, I’m sad to see the clerk go. It takes me a while to adjust to the new clerks who arrive each September.
But through this sermon, I have been reminded that God keeps me in my job, in my house, and in my church and brings new people to my path for me to pray for them. That’s something that is so do-able. I just need to be obedient and do it.
Think about where you are and who you can pray for. After all, we are ALL called to pray. And when God’s people pray, anything is possible.
Lucado’s words spoke to me because, as I've written before, I’ve struggled with understanding why God brings people into my path.You thought you got that new job because you deserved a promotion. I’m telling you, you got that new job because God wants you to stay there and pray for those people. You thought you were moved into that neighborhood because it was the best house you could find. I’m telling you that you are an assigned missionary to that neighborhood to pray for those people. You thought you were given that fourth grade class to teach just because the other teacher got sick and you got to be the substitute. Wrong! You were sent to that class because those 26 children need somebody to pray over them. You thought you were given this nation because you just happened to follow a certain lineage of a certain generation. Wrong! God has assigned you and He has assigned me to be prayer warriors for this nation, to intercede.
And I would go as far as to say this, church, that a day that passes that you don’t invite God’s kingdom to come into your world is a day wasted. . . . What God is doing is He is offering us the privilege of being a part of His strategy. When we come before Him and we say, “I don’t know how You’re going to do it, but please do it. Your ways are not my ways and I’m not going to complain at Your timing, though I would like to have it real soon. But I want Your will in this matter.”
For instance, today was our clerk’s last day. Our clerks always work for just a year, and then they go out to spread their wings. It is a difficult transition for me because I have enjoyed working with each of the five clerks we’ve had thus far. Each one has brought a different vibe to our pod. And at the end of each year, I’m sad to see the clerk go. It takes me a while to adjust to the new clerks who arrive each September.
But through this sermon, I have been reminded that God keeps me in my job, in my house, and in my church and brings new people to my path for me to pray for them. That’s something that is so do-able. I just need to be obedient and do it.
Think about where you are and who you can pray for. After all, we are ALL called to pray. And when God’s people pray, anything is possible.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Sinful Weeds
With all the rain that we’ve had this summer, I haven’t had many chances to go outside and work in my flower beds to get the weed population under control. There was a brief break in the clouds a few days ago, and I took that opportunity to take back over my flower beds from the grip of all the evil weeds.
I’m reminded each time that I tend my “garden” that there are so many similarities with my spiritual life. As I struggle to pull out a weed whose roots have grown deep into the rock-hard Texas clay, I recognize that this is akin to what happens when I fail to identify a sin in its early stage and uproot it; it takes a firm grip and is harder to get rid of it. Instead of a quick pull, I have to work really hard and exert a lot of effort, possibly even get out some tools, in order to extricate it. It’s kind of a painful, and often dirty, process that usually takes a while.
And one reason for that might be that I’m not tending the garden or my spiritual life as often as I should. If I spent more time in God‘s Word, maybe I’d recognize the sin more quickly; just like if I spent more time in the garden, maybe I’d recognize the weeds more quickly before they could sink their roots down deep. Maybe I’d even take some preventive steps to thwart the sinful weeds from growing in the first place, like praying for God to protect me from going down paths that lead to sin.
“Lord, I pray that you would help me tend my spiritual garden often, that you would keep me on the alert for the sinful weeds that I’m prone to, and that you would help me to keep the soil in my spiritual garden open to growing beautiful flowers instead of sinful weeds.”
I’m reminded each time that I tend my “garden” that there are so many similarities with my spiritual life. As I struggle to pull out a weed whose roots have grown deep into the rock-hard Texas clay, I recognize that this is akin to what happens when I fail to identify a sin in its early stage and uproot it; it takes a firm grip and is harder to get rid of it. Instead of a quick pull, I have to work really hard and exert a lot of effort, possibly even get out some tools, in order to extricate it. It’s kind of a painful, and often dirty, process that usually takes a while.
And one reason for that might be that I’m not tending the garden or my spiritual life as often as I should. If I spent more time in God‘s Word, maybe I’d recognize the sin more quickly; just like if I spent more time in the garden, maybe I’d recognize the weeds more quickly before they could sink their roots down deep. Maybe I’d even take some preventive steps to thwart the sinful weeds from growing in the first place, like praying for God to protect me from going down paths that lead to sin.
“Lord, I pray that you would help me tend my spiritual garden often, that you would keep me on the alert for the sinful weeds that I’m prone to, and that you would help me to keep the soil in my spiritual garden open to growing beautiful flowers instead of sinful weeds.”
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Works in Progress
Maybe you've been wondering what I've been up to since I haven't been posting as frequently. Well, I haven't stopped writing. Quite the contrary. I've been working on a few different things.
- For one, I have a fiction piece that I've been working on for my writers' group. You can read that assignment here.
- In a little over a week, I'll give you a glimpse into a new book (by a local Christian author) that just released and will be making a stop here as part of its blog tour.
- And about a month from now, I hope to have a piece written about my dad.
In the interim, I'll still post some of my devotional blogs, but I also wanted to whet your appetite for what's to come. I hope you'll stop back by again soon!
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Childlike Anticipation
It doesn’t take Christmas for me to be filled with childlike anticipation. Though that feeling is usually centered around times with gifts. And gift giving to be more specific.
I have this trait/disorder of not being able to wait to give a gift. As soon as I buy a gift, I want to give it. But having family and friends who live more than a few hours’ drive away, it just isn’t feasible for me to be able to give them their gifts immediately. And the postal service can only go so far in one day unless you shell out the big bucks for the overnite ponies.
So I’ve come up with a new little habit. After I ship the package, I wait a few minutes, and then I get the urge to call to see if the package has made it. You’d think I’d be able to resist the urge. Surely as much as I’ve waited for other things in my life I could wait to hear from the recipient. But, I don’t.
Case in point: My sister’s birthday is tomorrow. I shipped her gift via Priority Mail on Friday morning. I knew her gift would arrive yesterday barring any mishandling or (gasp) loss of the package. And so I called. Not once, but twice yesterday to see if she’d gotten it. She hadn’t even made it home, and so I spoiled the surprise (not that she was getting a birthday present but that it was arriving that day). Spoiling the surprise doesn’t dissuade me from making the calls. I just need to know that the gift has arrived.
I’m sure that there are probably support groups out there for this little disorder that I suffer from. But, I don’t want to be cured. Instead, I’d rather have this childlike anticipation transfer over into other areas of my life. Like my spiritual walk.
What would it be like to apply that childlike anticipation to waiting for Jesus’s triumphant return? Or looking forward to Heaven? Or even just looking forward each day to what God might do in, around, and through me?
I don’t know, so I guess I’ll just have to try it.
In the meantime, happy birthday to my awesome sister!
I have this trait/disorder of not being able to wait to give a gift. As soon as I buy a gift, I want to give it. But having family and friends who live more than a few hours’ drive away, it just isn’t feasible for me to be able to give them their gifts immediately. And the postal service can only go so far in one day unless you shell out the big bucks for the overnite ponies.
So I’ve come up with a new little habit. After I ship the package, I wait a few minutes, and then I get the urge to call to see if the package has made it. You’d think I’d be able to resist the urge. Surely as much as I’ve waited for other things in my life I could wait to hear from the recipient. But, I don’t.
Case in point: My sister’s birthday is tomorrow. I shipped her gift via Priority Mail on Friday morning. I knew her gift would arrive yesterday barring any mishandling or (gasp) loss of the package. And so I called. Not once, but twice yesterday to see if she’d gotten it. She hadn’t even made it home, and so I spoiled the surprise (not that she was getting a birthday present but that it was arriving that day). Spoiling the surprise doesn’t dissuade me from making the calls. I just need to know that the gift has arrived.
I’m sure that there are probably support groups out there for this little disorder that I suffer from. But, I don’t want to be cured. Instead, I’d rather have this childlike anticipation transfer over into other areas of my life. Like my spiritual walk.
What would it be like to apply that childlike anticipation to waiting for Jesus’s triumphant return? Or looking forward to Heaven? Or even just looking forward each day to what God might do in, around, and through me?
I don’t know, so I guess I’ll just have to try it.
In the meantime, happy birthday to my awesome sister!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Drowning Out The Noise
As I was driving today, I noticed that I was driving right next to a train and didn’t even hear it. The radio in my car wasn’t blaring, but it was enough to cover up the sounds of the train. As I thought about this, I saw some similarities between drowning out the noise of life and living in a cocoon, protected from the burdens in other people’s lives.
I think I was more acutely aware of this today because last night I read a chapter in The Rest of God by Mark Buchanan that talked about paying attention to the details of life. Buchanan encourages readers to restore Sabbath, and one of the practices that he describes to experience Sabbath rest is to stop to find what’s missing. He urges readers, “See it all. Like Adam, name it.”
God’s creation inspires me, but I often don’t let it. I can’t hear the birds singing in the morning because I’ve got the radio on while I’m getting ready for work. I don’t hear the children in the neighborhood playing in the evenings because I have the television on. I can’t hear the locusts at night because I turn on a sound conditioner to cover up the endless barking of the next-door neighbor’s dog. And by drowning out God’s creation, I’m often removing the opportunity to hear from God.
All of the man-made sounds that I’m replacing God’s sounds with are merely imitations. These imitations keep me distracted. And by staying distracted, I don’t have to deal with things in my life, like the emptiness that comes from unmet desires. But counterfeit imitations only suffice for so long. And then I crave the real thing.
Tonight, now that I’m out of the cocoon, I’m looking forward to spending time with a family who is going through a difficult time after the father was injured in a fall last week. And now that I’ve had it with artificial sounds for a while, I’m looking forward to the real sounds of a Texas summer night.
I think I was more acutely aware of this today because last night I read a chapter in The Rest of God by Mark Buchanan that talked about paying attention to the details of life. Buchanan encourages readers to restore Sabbath, and one of the practices that he describes to experience Sabbath rest is to stop to find what’s missing. He urges readers, “See it all. Like Adam, name it.”
God’s creation inspires me, but I often don’t let it. I can’t hear the birds singing in the morning because I’ve got the radio on while I’m getting ready for work. I don’t hear the children in the neighborhood playing in the evenings because I have the television on. I can’t hear the locusts at night because I turn on a sound conditioner to cover up the endless barking of the next-door neighbor’s dog. And by drowning out God’s creation, I’m often removing the opportunity to hear from God.
All of the man-made sounds that I’m replacing God’s sounds with are merely imitations. These imitations keep me distracted. And by staying distracted, I don’t have to deal with things in my life, like the emptiness that comes from unmet desires. But counterfeit imitations only suffice for so long. And then I crave the real thing.
Tonight, now that I’m out of the cocoon, I’m looking forward to spending time with a family who is going through a difficult time after the father was injured in a fall last week. And now that I’ve had it with artificial sounds for a while, I’m looking forward to the real sounds of a Texas summer night.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Breaking Through The Cocoon
I bumped into something a little unfamiliar this past week. It was clingy and sticky, and at first I didn’t know what it was. Then I realized that it was a cocoon. One that I had somehow built up around myself. Thankfully, it must have been made of some shoddy material because when I bumped it, it cracked. At that point, it started letting in a wave of emotions that I hadn’t been allowing myself feel.
The cascade of sorrows and joys that came through amazed me. They had all been held back by my own choosing to supposedly save myself the time and the energy of delving into others’ lives and bearing their burdens, as well as their joys. It’s sad to admit that sometimes I get so selfish with my time, but I do. I don’t know if it is a result of feeling emotions so deeply that I’d rather not feel them at all or what the real reason for this particular cocoon was. Any reason I devise would merely be an excuse. After all, Galatians 6:2 says, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
I pray that having broken through this cocoon, I’ll be a better friend. One who is willing to give of my time to lend a listening ear, some encouragement, or a round of applause if the occasion warrants it.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Do You Believe In Miracles?
I wasn't planning to post tonight. But that was before I stopped by my friend Kelly's blog and watched the amazing video that she put together to celebrate her daughter Kate's third birthday. It is a reminder of all that Kate has survived during her three short years.
Kate's story is nothing less than a miracle. She was born 14 weeks early and weighed less than two pounds. I followed her progress from afar as she would take the proverbial "two steps forward and one step" back during the 86 days that she spent in the hospital finishing the development and growth that should have occurred in the womb. She was feisty and defied the odds.
Tomorrow, she will turn three. And someday she's going to give Ina a run for her money as Kate will no doubt be hosting her own cooking show on the Food Network. She's got a passion for cooking, and I hope to taste her creations soon!
If you have a chance, click on the video link above. You'll be reminded that God has definitely not retired from the business of working miracles.
Kate's story is nothing less than a miracle. She was born 14 weeks early and weighed less than two pounds. I followed her progress from afar as she would take the proverbial "two steps forward and one step" back during the 86 days that she spent in the hospital finishing the development and growth that should have occurred in the womb. She was feisty and defied the odds.
Tomorrow, she will turn three. And someday she's going to give Ina a run for her money as Kate will no doubt be hosting her own cooking show on the Food Network. She's got a passion for cooking, and I hope to taste her creations soon!
If you have a chance, click on the video link above. You'll be reminded that God has definitely not retired from the business of working miracles.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Willing to Receive
Yesterday, before I slayed the beast, I had an interesting experience. I tried to take lunch to a family whose son was in the hospital here. I made several phone calls to the hospital before I was put through to the family. Then, when I asked if I could bring them lunch, they said that they would just eat in the cafeteria at the hospital.
I was taken aback. I had really wanted to be able to love on this family whose son normally gets medical treatment in Minnesota. I kept racking my brain to figure out how I could have changed my approach so that they would have accepted my offer to help. I ultimately decided that I just needed to show them some grace and understand that they are going through a difficult time.
Later in the evening, the friend who had introduced me to the above family said that she had seen them and that they had apologized to her for not accepting my offer. They didn’t know why they had so quickly refused an offer of help.
When it comes down to it, though, it’s just human nature.
How many times have I done the same thing? How many times has someone offered to help me, and I’ve rejected the offer of help so that I could do things on my own? I’m sure that I couldn’t even remember or count all those rejections that I have handed out.
Ultimately, we all want to do life on our own. We want to be independent. Yet, most people have an innate desire to help others. And so this creates an interesting juxtaposition: How can people ever give of their time and talents if everyone wants to live independently? Obviously we can’t. At some point, we need to be vulnerable and accept the offers of help from others and be willing to receive help from God as well.
“Lord, please continue to show me opportunities to help others, and help me identify those areas in my life in which I am trying to do things apart from You. I do not want to lead a life that looks like a “do-it-herself” job, which does not glorify You.”
I was taken aback. I had really wanted to be able to love on this family whose son normally gets medical treatment in Minnesota. I kept racking my brain to figure out how I could have changed my approach so that they would have accepted my offer to help. I ultimately decided that I just needed to show them some grace and understand that they are going through a difficult time.
Later in the evening, the friend who had introduced me to the above family said that she had seen them and that they had apologized to her for not accepting my offer. They didn’t know why they had so quickly refused an offer of help.
When it comes down to it, though, it’s just human nature.
How many times have I done the same thing? How many times has someone offered to help me, and I’ve rejected the offer of help so that I could do things on my own? I’m sure that I couldn’t even remember or count all those rejections that I have handed out.
Ultimately, we all want to do life on our own. We want to be independent. Yet, most people have an innate desire to help others. And so this creates an interesting juxtaposition: How can people ever give of their time and talents if everyone wants to live independently? Obviously we can’t. At some point, we need to be vulnerable and accept the offers of help from others and be willing to receive help from God as well.
“Lord, please continue to show me opportunities to help others, and help me identify those areas in my life in which I am trying to do things apart from You. I do not want to lead a life that looks like a “do-it-herself” job, which does not glorify You.”
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Slaying the Beast
Have you ever found yourself saying, “If only I had . . .” or “If only so & so would . . . ”? I know I’m guilty of this. There always seems to be that one “thing” that I can’t have or at least that I can’t have YET. And I know I’m not the only one. Some of the “if only’s” that I know my friends are facing right now are as follows:
If only I was debt free.
If only depression/alcoholism didn’t run in our family.
If only we could afford a house.
If only a family member wasn’t battling cancer.
If only we could get pregnant.
If only I didn’t have to work and could stay home with my children.
If only my in-laws treated me better.
If only I had a loving spouse.
If only our marriage would be reconciled.
If only a friend or family member would accept Christ as his/her personal Savior.
If only I could get published.
If only I had time to workout.
If only I could afford to take a vacation.
If only I was pain free.
The “if only” that I’ve had at the top of my personal list lately is “If only I could slay ‘the beast,’” which is the nickname that I’ve given to a project that I’ve been working on for several months now. I had hoped to finish it before I went on vacation, but I just couldn’t wrap it up. Then, my first week back from vacation, I decided to work on some smaller projects in order to prove to myself that I could still do my job, which I had started to question. With those smaller projects behind me, I returned to the beast and told myself that it had to be conquered by tonight.
“The beast” started out to be very straight-forward. There was a lot to read, but I didn’t think it would be nearly as bad as it has been. It had gotten to the point that it was unwieldy and seemed so much bigger than my skill set. I just couldn’t seem to tame it. Until now. A draft is done. It isn’t the page-turner that I’d like for it to be, but it is ready for another set of eyes to pierce through it.
Throughout this time, I’ve been postponing my joy in anticipation of finishing this project. And yet, there’s been so much that I could have been joyful about throughout the process. For instance, I feel like I’ve identified some tasks that were taking me longer than necessary and have found some ways to make those tasks more efficient when I take on the next project. I’ve learned more succinct ways of phrasing things. And, I’ve been reminded daily of how I must depend on God for His help and wisdom.
I see this pattern often in my life. I wait for something big--an "if only"--to happen. I’m content for a while, and then a new “if only” makes its way to the forefront of my mind, and I postpone my joy in anticipation of fulfillment of the new “if only” criterion. It’s like a little child who asks for “just one thing” only to return and ask for another “just one thing” a few moments later because the previous toy or whatever is no longer satisfying.
By doing this, I’m not accepting that right where I am is God’s “Plan A” (as my friend calls it) for my life. I am doubting that this is God’s best for me. That He wants me to be right where I am right now to fulfill His purpose. And that I don’t need to rush things.
I wish that by writing this, I’d somehow be immune to going through another “if only” rollercoaster ride. But I know it’s not that simple. Instead, I’ll need to be on the alert for it and remind myself that the One Thing that my soul is really searching for is available right now; I don’t have to wait for it.
If only I was debt free.
If only depression/alcoholism didn’t run in our family.
If only we could afford a house.
If only a family member wasn’t battling cancer.
If only we could get pregnant.
If only I didn’t have to work and could stay home with my children.
If only my in-laws treated me better.
If only I had a loving spouse.
If only our marriage would be reconciled.
If only a friend or family member would accept Christ as his/her personal Savior.
If only I could get published.
If only I had time to workout.
If only I could afford to take a vacation.
If only I was pain free.
The “if only” that I’ve had at the top of my personal list lately is “If only I could slay ‘the beast,’” which is the nickname that I’ve given to a project that I’ve been working on for several months now. I had hoped to finish it before I went on vacation, but I just couldn’t wrap it up. Then, my first week back from vacation, I decided to work on some smaller projects in order to prove to myself that I could still do my job, which I had started to question. With those smaller projects behind me, I returned to the beast and told myself that it had to be conquered by tonight.
“The beast” started out to be very straight-forward. There was a lot to read, but I didn’t think it would be nearly as bad as it has been. It had gotten to the point that it was unwieldy and seemed so much bigger than my skill set. I just couldn’t seem to tame it. Until now. A draft is done. It isn’t the page-turner that I’d like for it to be, but it is ready for another set of eyes to pierce through it.
Throughout this time, I’ve been postponing my joy in anticipation of finishing this project. And yet, there’s been so much that I could have been joyful about throughout the process. For instance, I feel like I’ve identified some tasks that were taking me longer than necessary and have found some ways to make those tasks more efficient when I take on the next project. I’ve learned more succinct ways of phrasing things. And, I’ve been reminded daily of how I must depend on God for His help and wisdom.
I see this pattern often in my life. I wait for something big--an "if only"--to happen. I’m content for a while, and then a new “if only” makes its way to the forefront of my mind, and I postpone my joy in anticipation of fulfillment of the new “if only” criterion. It’s like a little child who asks for “just one thing” only to return and ask for another “just one thing” a few moments later because the previous toy or whatever is no longer satisfying.
By doing this, I’m not accepting that right where I am is God’s “Plan A” (as my friend calls it) for my life. I am doubting that this is God’s best for me. That He wants me to be right where I am right now to fulfill His purpose. And that I don’t need to rush things.
I wish that by writing this, I’d somehow be immune to going through another “if only” rollercoaster ride. But I know it’s not that simple. Instead, I’ll need to be on the alert for it and remind myself that the One Thing that my soul is really searching for is available right now; I don’t have to wait for it.
“Enough” by Chris Tomlin
All of You is more than enough for all of meFor every thirst and every needYou satisfy me with Your loveAnd all I have in You is more than enough
You are my supplyMy breath of lifeAnd still more awesome than I knowYou are my reward worth living forAnd still more awesome than I know
All of You is more than enough for all of meFor every thirst and every needYou satisfy me with Your loveAnd all I have in You is more than enough
You’re my sacrificeOf greatest priceAnd still more awesome than I knowYou’re the coming King You are everythingAnd still more awesome than I know
More than all I wantMore than all I needYou are more than enough for meMore than all I knowMore than all I can sayYou are more than enough for me
Friday, July 6, 2007
Tell Me Who You Walk With
Tonight as I was driving home later than normal from work, I caught the middle of a call-in show on the radio. The call-in theme for the evening was about morals or lessons that have been passed down from other generations. One caller that I heard shared a Spanish proverb that her mother used to tell her: “Dime con quién andas, y te diré quién eres,” which literally translated means, “Tell me who you walk with, and I’ll tell you who you are.”
Having lived in Texas all my life, I’m a little surprised that I’ve never heard this saying before. I like the saying because it’s simple (i.e., easy to remember) and can have much life application. The caller said that her mother used it to encourage her to choose her friends wisely because she did not want her to hang out with bad influences who would, in turn, have a negative effect on her character.
Immediately after hearing her story, I thought about how I would answer, “Tell me who you walk with.” A lot of family and friends came to mind. But then I envisioned answering, “I walk with God,” and that painted such a beautiful picture. It took me back to two old hymns:
Having lived in Texas all my life, I’m a little surprised that I’ve never heard this saying before. I like the saying because it’s simple (i.e., easy to remember) and can have much life application. The caller said that her mother used it to encourage her to choose her friends wisely because she did not want her to hang out with bad influences who would, in turn, have a negative effect on her character.
Immediately after hearing her story, I thought about how I would answer, “Tell me who you walk with.” A lot of family and friends came to mind. But then I envisioned answering, “I walk with God,” and that painted such a beautiful picture. It took me back to two old hymns:
When we walk with the Lord in the light of His Word,I hope that you can envision yourself walking with God daily. I can’t think of a better Person to reflect or to be connected with.
What a glory He sheds on our way!
While we do His good will, He abides with us still,
And with all who will trust and obey.
Trust and obey, for there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.
. . . .
Then in fellowship sweet we will sit at His feet.
Or we’ll walk by His side in the way.
What He says we will do, where He sends we will go;
Never fear, only trust and obey.
(Listen at http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/t/r/trstobey.htm)
I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses.
And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.
(Listen at http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/i/t/g/itgarden.htm)
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