In the Valley

"They gave our Master a crown of thorns.

Why do we hope for a crown of roses?"

~ Martin Luther ~

My prayers are often filled with thanks for the life I enjoy as a child of God. When I’m living on the mountain top, I eagerly anticipate each new day. The sun shines brighter; there’s a spring in my step and a song in my heart. At times like these, I can easily list the blessings He has showered on me: my family, friends, health, work, prosperity…the list is endless.

When I sink into the valley, I can’t even see the sun. Shadows loom all around me. I am cold, fearful, and alone. I find myself praying for strength, guidance, patience, faith…I could go on and on.

Climbing out of the abyss, I try to look back and learn from my time in the valley. I search for God’s hand in my experience. What did I do or fail to do that got me here? What was he trying to teach me? How can I grow from this? One question leads to another as I long for wisdom…..

Bottom line is this: to fully appreciate the mountain top experience, I need to experience the valley. As much as I long for the mountain top, I do most of my searching in the valley. I have found most of life’s lessons in the valley. I am schooled there; it is there that I grow and learn and fully appreciate the blessings that can only be found in Christ.

“The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in paths of righteousness for His name sake. Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

Psalms 23

Cobwebs

I can’t remember what started me to blog in the first place other than reading my daughter’s and thinking it would be fun to have my own, but blogging requires discipline, and discipline is seldom fun.

It is, however, even less fun to discipline yourself for a period of time and then to give it up. That is true of exercising, eating right, praying, studying the Bible, or even blogging. Developing the discipline is hard, then it gets rewarding, and, if you’re like me, you let it go and find yourself longing for the days when you were disciplined and feeling the benefits.

My friend and I exercise together at 6:00 each morning. Some days we spin; some days we walk.

Even though we walk as fast as we can without breaking into a jog, we manage to talk the whole hour.

On the days we go to spin class I will occasionally give her a lift home. One day as she got out of the car, she leaned in and muttered, “You know, your web of love has cobwebs” and promptly left me alone with my thoughts.

I sat in my car in the middle of the street puzzled; then it dawned on me.

Oh, yeah.

She is referring to my blog. My last entry, almost two months ago, was entitled, “Web of Love.”

Now the very fact that you are reading this tells me that you might not be able to relate. You probably have a blog of your own and have settled into a regular schedule of entries. Or you are toying with the idea of blogging and look forward to reading your friend’s blogs. Maybe you spend some serious time in blogs daily and have your favorites saved on your computer to check each day.

No, that one does not count; if my blog were saved on your desktop you would have deleted it by now, having checked it every day for two months with no new entries.

The other day a friend said to me in exasperation, “Don’t ever start blogging; it will take over your life!” Then he looked at me and said, “Oh, yeah, you do blog” and walked away.

Awkward………

He might as well have said, “And your web of love has cobwebs!”

Web of Love

They sat in a circle, blissfully unaware of what was in store for them. He stood in the center of the circle, the beloved teacher who, along with 10 other faculty members, was responsible for making memories for this group of high school seniors. He handed a ball of yarn to the senior class president as he told the class how as a senior class sponsor he had come to respect the leadership that this young man provided. He then challenged that young man to share the love.

Accepting the challenge, the senior class president scanned the faces around the circle, held on to the end of the yarn then tossed the ball of yarn across the room to another student. He then proceeded to tell the class why he admired that student. The second student then held on to his end of the yarn and tossed the ball of yarn to another student.

One by one, each student listened with rapt attention as someone else sang his or her praises. As the evening wore and the yarn was tossed from one student to another, it created a web of yarn between them, which we call the web of love.

Eventually, the yarn ran out. There was a moment of silence, then someone said, “Let’s keep going,” and they did. What was interesting to me as I witnessed this outpouring of love was the recurring theme. It went something like this, “Johnny, you and I have known each other since 9^th grade, and I’ll have to admit, I didn’t like you when I first met you. But we’ve had some classes together this year, and this is the first chance we’ve really had to talk. I just wanted you to know that I think you’re cool, man. You’re real, and I respect that.”

After hearing some version of that theme over and over, I thought about what they were really saying. “Ok, my first impression of you wasn’t a good one and wasn’t necessarily based on you at all, but on my perceptions about you. After a few years, I decided to give you a chance. I took the time to get to know you and realized how wrong I was about you. In fact, I like you just the way you are.”

I wonder how often I do that. How often is my first impression of someone negative and based totally on my misperceptions of them because I don’t really know them? How many times have I begun to really like or respect someone once I got to know them?

“Get rid of all evil behavior. Be done with all deceit, hypocrisy, jealousy, and all unkind speech. Like newborn babies, you must crave pure spiritual milk so that you will grow into a full experience of salvation. Cry out for this nourishment, now that you have had a taste of the Lord’s kindness.”

I Peter 2:1-3

Ski Trip

We have a long-standing tradition at our high school. Every year around February or March, we take the seniors to Colorado for a week to ski. This includes a 20 hour chartered bus trip, three days of skiing, three nights of devos, and a 20 hour bus trip home. Every year, we’ve come to expect great skiing, some important class bonding, and a surprise or two along the way.

This year was no exception. The kids were great on the buses. We stayed in the same condo that we have used for many years. There were four girls in my condo, and they were all very well-behaved. They were considerate of each other and followed the rules of curfew every night. One girl in my condo developed altitude sickness the first day and ended up flying home on the third day. Other than that and a couple of minor injuries, the whole week ran smoothly.

There was one blip in the whole trip. One of the girls in my room discovered $60.00 missing. She had hidden it at the bottom of her clothes drawer. She alerted the sponsors, who promptly alerted the front desk at the condo. We did not want to believe that someone in housekeeping had taken the money as we had never had any problems of this sort in the 15 years that we have used this condo; we just felt it important to let them know. The sponsors felt that more than likely, the culprit was one of our own, not because this person needed the money, but out of a desire to hurt that girl.

When the rest of the class found out about the missing money, they took action. The senior class president went to each member of the class and asked if they wanted to contribute a dollar or two to the fund to replace her money. On the last day of the trip as we circled around to pray together, he announced that this class felt very strongly that they did not want the actions of one person to taint the reputation of the entire class. He presented her with an envelope filled with $128.00 that they had collected on her behalf. What a strong message this sent, not only to her, but to whoever stole her money.

“Tell them to use their money to do good. They should be rich in good works and generous to those in need, always being ready to share with others. By doing this they will be storing up their treasure as a good foundation for the future so that they may experience true life.”

I Timothy 6:18-19

Something for Nothing

I love a good contest. One of my bloggity friends, through Christian Women Online, is giving away a free Coach purse and glasses case that she does not use. That is such a fun contest, and don't we all like to get something for nothing? Click here to learn more about the contest.

Recently I wrote about putting on my winter coat for the first time last winter and pulling a $50.00 bill out of the pocket. Technically, that is not something for nothing since I was probably the one who put it there last year, but since it was totally unexpected it still felt that way.

My husband has an amazing knack for being at the right place at the right time. Several times in his life, he has looked down and found money on the ground. Once, he was walking into a store and a $20.00 bill slapped him in the leg. There was no one around so he was unable to see who might have dropped it.

I can't tell you how many times we have been driving on the freeway just to have him whip over to the shoulder, come to a screeching halt, put it in reverse (still on the shoulder, thankfully), open his door, and pick up a tool lying in the ditch, or a wallet full of money and no ID.

This man, who on any given day cannot find his own wallet, belt, glasses, or car keys, can spot a wrench lying in a ditch while driving 60 miles per hour on the inside lane.

As for me, I have never won anything, just money in my pocket that I put there in the first place. Except for him, that is. I won him 31 years ago and have been celebrating my good fortune ever since!

Little Fifi

This is worth a chuckle.

The train was very crowded, so the soldier walked the length of the train, looking for an empty seat. The only unoccupied seat was directly adjacent to a well-dressed middle-aged lady and was being used by her little dog.

The war weary soldier asked, "Please, ma'am, may I sit in that seat?"

The French woman looked down her nose at the soldier, sniffed and said, "You Americans. You are such a rude class of people. Can't you see my little Fifi is using that seat?" The soldier walked away, determined to find a place to rest, but after another trip down to the end of the train, found himself again facing the woman with the dog. Again he asked, "Please, Madame. May I sit there? I'm very tired."

The French woman wrinkled her nose and snorted, "You Americans! Not only are you rude, you are also arrogant. Imagine!" The soldier didn't say anything else; he leaned over, picked up the little dog, tossed it out the window of the train and sat down in the empty seat. The woman shrieked and railed, and demanded that someone defend her and chastise the soldier.

An English gentleman sitting across the aisle spoke up, "You know, sir, you Yanks do seem to have a penchant for doing the wrong thing. You eat holding the fork in the wrong hand. You drive your autos on the wrong side of the road, and now you've thrown the wrong one out the window!

What Need Am I Trying to Fill?

"Every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you,

the part of you that chooses,

into something a little different from what it was before...

either into a creature that is in harmony with God,

or into one that is in a state of war with God.

Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other."

~ C.S. Lewis ~
Mere Christianity

She stood before this group of high school girls, clearly nervous, yet determined to share her message. She is a happily married Christian woman, yet, in her other life, she was a drug addict, a topless dancer, and finally, a prostitute.

She held the girls in rapt attention, because her life began in similar fashion to theirs. She grew up living with her mom and dad in an upper middle class home. She was a “daddy’s girl” who loved sports and especially riding her horse. She attended a private, Christian school, and was very involved in church; she led the idyllic life, until she reached middle school. The summer after 8^th grade, she and her mom left their home in Arizona and came to Texas to visit her aunt. It was there that her mom announced that she was leaving her dad. She had no warning, no chance to say goodbye to her friends, her church, her school, and most importantly, her dad.

This one event initiated the spiral. She immediately latched on to another girl in pain, and together they began experimenting with drugs, which led to skipping school, and finally, running away from home. Shortly after, she was raped. She lived on the streets for awhile, until circumstances forced her to bow her head in shame and return home.

She tried to clean up. A very intelligent girl, she managed to pull in excellent grades during the week, but it wasn’t long before her weekends consisted of alcohol, drugs, partying, and casual sex. She ended up dropping out of school and moving in with a boyfriend. She heard through a friend that a lot of money could be made topless dancing, so she entered that world. Tragically, this led to prostitution, which consumed her life and fed her drug habit for the next 10 years.

Sometime in her late 20’s, she stumbled upon New Friends, New Life, formerly known as Amy’s Friends. This non-profit organization helps women get out of sexually oriented businesses and provides the support and training to finish their educations and get jobs. She went through the program and now works for the organization. She is truly one of their success stories. Part of her ministry is to speak to young girls about the choices she has made and the consequences she has faced as a result.

I will never forget the day she came to speak to the girls at our school. There were two things in particular that she said that resonated with me. As she explained the importance of making wise choices that determine the course of your life, she used the analogy of a geometric angle. In drawing a 90 degree angle, if, instead, you reach the apex and veer slightly, the small adjustment will get larger and larger as your line leaves the apex. She said that it is the same with choices. One choice leads to another, which leads to another, which will either take you closer to your goal or further and further away from it.

During the question and answer period, the girls had a lot of “Why?” questions. Many of the girls in the audience came from broken homes, and her background of a broken home, Christian education, etc. made them a little uncomfortable. She talked about many of the things that she did in response to what was happening in her life, and what she was trying to accomplish. In every incidence, she said she was trying to fill a need that she had at the time. She took drugs to numb the pain. She lived on the streets because of her shame in being raped. She became a topless dancer and a prostitute because of the money, the power, and the “love” that she craved. So, in hindsight, she cautioned the girls, when faced with temptations, to ask themselves, “What need am I trying to fill?”

If you are interested in learning more about New Friends, New Life, you might want to check out the following websites. The first is their website; the others are articles that have been written about them. These women are victims of their own poor choices and need our prayers and support.

http://pages.prodigy.net/lriley/home.html

http://www.connectionmagazine.org/archives_old/2001_05/nodirtydancing.htm

http://www.acfnewsource.org/religion/christian_strippers.html

http://www.authenticrelationships.com/pornography_michelle.php

Racing Tumbleweeds

During our first years of marriage, we lived in the high plains of New Mexico, where you could drive along flat, straight roads with nothing but miles of flat land on either side. The highlight of a long drive like this is the tumbleweed race.

It is amazing, actually. You can be driving along, with tumbleweed rolling toward you at a 45 degree angle, and if you slow down, it slows down; if you speed up, it speeds up, or so it appears. This continues on until finally it comes right at you, hurls itself at your car, and bursts into a million twigs.

I guess if I were standing in a field, it might hurt to be hit by tumbleweed, with its thorns and dry, scratchy branches. But cocooned within the armor of my car, I am safe and sheltered.

God provides armor to protect us from the evil one. Although we tend to lash out against the evil that we see in this world, in actuality, there is an unseen world, a spiritual war going on, and what is at stake is my soul.

“Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” Ephesians 6:12

God desires to protect us, so he provides the tools we need.

“Therefore, put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God.”

Ephesians 6:13-17

Finally, we are reminded that this battle is spiritual and must be fought in God’s strength, depending on Him through His word and prayer.

“And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.”

Ephesians 6:18

Sandstorms

The first three years of our marriage, we were stationed on an Air Force base in Clovis, New Mexico. This area, known as the high plains of New Mexico, was known for its sandstorms (think this picture without the camels). I experienced my first one as a newlywed.

I spent the day cleaning house, anticipating my beloved’s return from work that evening. All of a sudden, I heard a sound like a giant freight train. Knowing there was no railroad track nearby I cautiously went outside to investigate. As I approached the curb, I saw a red wall of dirt as high and as wide as I could see coming toward me. I turned and ran in the house, slamming the door behind me just as the wall of red dirt passed over.

In its wake, a fine mist of red dust covered the house. It was all over the sidewalks, the porch, had seeped through the window sills, and under the doors. It came to rest on my carpet, counter tops, and bed. It was everywhere.

Thankfully, I only experienced a few of these in the three years we lived there. Typically, though, a sandstorm comes without warning. There is no escaping it. About all you can do is find shelter, brace yourself, ride it out, then clean up when it is over.

As a Christian, when hit with life’s storms, I pretty much take the same approach. Only now, I find shelter in the arms of Jesus. In fact, I can’t imagine bracing life’s storms any other way.

“The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble.

He cares for those who trust in Him.”

Nahum 1:7

Skim and Scan

"Those who read fast reap no more advantage than a bee would by only skimming over the surface of the flower, instead of waiting to penetrate into it, and extract its sweets."

~ Madame Jeanne Guyon ~

I love to read. I would rather read a good book than watch a movie, because I can savor the words, read them over, decide what the characters look like, give their words the tone and inflection I want, and make the story my own. My current favorite author is Francine Rivers. I have been reading her books for months and have come close to reading everything she has on the market, so I find myself slowing down and savoring every word. I always have a grieving period after a good book; I reflect on the story, I miss the characters, then I begin the waiting period before I can start another book.

In contrast, if I am reading a book that is not as well written, or that I have to read something that I am not particularly interested in, I tend to skim, looking for the good parts. Skimming is not actually reading, it is more like searching for specific words or thoughts. A good skimmer can find information quickly, then slow down and dig deep into the information.

The problem is that skimming is a skill. Before I became a high school principal, I worked with students with learning differences. My favorite students to work with were students with ADD. One of the struggles that they tend to have is the inability to skim. That presents unique problems. When assigned a chapter to read with questions at the end to answer, few high school students understand the importance of actually reading the chapter. Most will skim the chapter, looking for key words and phrases that will help to answer the assigned questions. However, most students with ADD are terrible skimmers. To complicate matters, they also struggle to focus when reading material that is of little interest to them, in spite of their reading ability. Nevertheless, strong student or weak, skimming is not reading for understanding; it is searching.

Skimming is like scanning. Ever enter the church auditorium, looking for your husband? You scan the faces until you find the familiar one, but if questioned, will probably not be able to recall many of the faces you scanned. However, if you pick a row and study it, you can look at the faces over and over until you commit them to memory.

I scan the Bible when looking for a particular word, phrase, or verse, but to read for understanding, I have to slow down and read each word. I will then read a concordance on that scripture to understand the context and find associated scriptures. I keep a highlighter and a pen in my Bible to highlight scriptures and write in the margins. I also write on the blank pages provided at the back, having learned to do that in college with textbooks that I purchased; it is an important study tool for me. God‘s word is amazing. It is timeless, the only book I know that you can read over and over and learn something new every time.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet

and a light for my path.”

Psalm 119:105

Go to the Heart

One morning, during our first year of marriage, we were headed to the university in our VW Beetle, Myrtle (her christened name). To avoid morning traffic, we chose the back road which took us through miles and miles of farmland. We drove along without talking; my beloved was lost in his thoughts as I sat in the passenger seat studying for a test.

I casually looked up just as he swerved to hit a giant turtle that was crossing the road. My mouth gaping open, I stared straight ahead in shock as I heard the horrible gallump gallump of our tires running over its shell. Then I whipped around in my seat and screamed, “How could you do such a thing?”

Without waiting for his answer, my mind raced. Who was this man that I had just married? Who goes out of their way in order to hit animals on the road? I burst into tears and whispered, “How could you intentionally hit that poor, defenseless turtle?”

“I didn’t intentionally hit the turtle,” he replied calmly. “Apparently there were two turtles, but I didn’t know that. I saw a turtle in the road and served to miss it. I didn’t know that another turtle was right behind it until I ran over it.”

Oh.

Okay.

He may not be the most observant driver in the world, but at least he’s not a sadistic, cold-blooded turtle assassin.

As I think back to that incident, it is interesting to me the importance that intent plays in our actions. He killed a turtle, but he didn’t intend to. His intent was to avoid the turtle that he saw. I was so ready to be mad at him until I realized that he didn’t mean to do it.

Maybe that is why Jesus places such emphasis on what is going on in our hearts. Once I removed myself from his actions and looked at his heart, I understood his actions better.

It made me wonder; how diligent am I about looking a person’s heart, in order to understand their actions better?

How diligent are you?

“The Lord does not look at the things man looks at.

Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

I Samuel 16:7

For Her Own Good

"We are urgent about the body; He is about the soul. We call for present comforts; He considers our everlasting rest. And therefore when He sends not the very things we ask, He hears us by sending greater than we can ask or think."

~ Richard Cecil ~

Remember your infant’s first immunization? She is curled in your arms, so trusting, so relaxed. The nurse swabs a small circle of alcohol on her thigh, then quickly punches the needle into her skin and presses the syringe until all of the liquid enters her body. There is a moment of stunned silence, then she lets out that blood-curdling scream. Your eyes fill with tears as you rock her gently, whispering soft words of comfort. It pains you to cause her so much pain, but you would do it again because it is for her own good.

Do you recall her first day of school? As much as you try to prepare her for the new teacher, the new friends, the new things she will learn, and the fun she will have, the moment comes when you must leave her there. She realizes that you are not coming in with her and she turns to you and pleads, “Mommy, please don’t go. Take me with you!”

You reassure her that it will be ok, brace yourself to turn away from her, and concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other until you are out of sight and then sit in your car for a good cry. It tears your heart out to leave her that way, but you would do it again because it is for her own good.

How about when someone breaks her heart? You hold her in your arms as she pours her heart out to you between sobs. As you feel the tension leaving her body it enters yours and you fantasize about what you would say to the child that caused her so much pain. You fight the urge to call that child’s parents and give them a piece of your mind. You struggle to calm yourself down so that you can think rationally, because only then can you offer the advise, support, and encouragement she needs. Ultimately she must learn how to handle her own relationships; it is for her own good.

What about when she must face the consequences for her actions? You want to call and make excuses for her; you want to fix it; you might even be tempted to take the blame. The consequences that never bothered you before seem too harsh all of a sudden. You fear that facing them will break her spirit; she will never be the same. Yet, you fight those urges and your need to control her life, to shelter her from pain and heartache, because you know that this experience can make her a better person if she learns a lesson. It is for her own good.

Over and over as parents we are faced with decisions that affect our children, decisions that are ultimately for their own good. We explain it to them when we can, but often they are too young or inexperienced about life to understand, and it doesn’t change anything. As their parents, we still must do what we think is best.

This gives me a small inkling of what it must be like to be God. I ask for one thing; he gives another. I want some unpleasant situation removed; he knows that this is the very situation that will deepen my faith and reliance on him. I pray for patience; he sends adversity, which he knows develops patience. I ask for deliverance; he knows that it is through my weakness that his power shines through. Nevertheless, as my father, it pains him to cause me pain; it tears his heart out to leave me that way. He knows I must learn to handle my relationships, and that I will be a better person if I face the consequences for my actions.

So he answers my prayers by providing what I need......

for my own good.

Come and listen, all you who fear God;

let me tell you what He has done for me.

I cried out to Him with my mouth;

His praise was on my tongue.

If I had cherished sin in my heart,

the Lord would not have listened;

but God has surely listened and heard my voice in prayer.

Praise be to God,

who has not rejected my prayer or withheld His love from me!
--Psalm 66:16-20

Creepy Slash Funny

Are you registered to vote? If not, you might want to think about it. The presidential elections will be here before we know it. Maybe you are one of those who thinks your little ole' vote can't make a difference, so why bother?

Perhaps this little visual will help you make up your mind. She could be our next president!

Introducing.... Hillbillary!

Totally Dependent

Many years ago one summer, I came down with a mean case of viral pneumonia. It was 1984, and I was flat on my back for two weeks with a temperature of 102 and a wracking cough. As I look back, I marvel over the fact that the doctor did not hospitalize me, but our insurance was with an HMO at that time, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.

Throughout the day, I watched the summer Olympics as I slipped in and out of sleep. We had two children at the time, ages 5 and 3. Unable to get out of bed, I leaned heavily on my mom. While my husband was at work, she came over, tackled a few household chores then took the girls to her house for the day. She returned them in the evening, along with dinner. There is no doubt I have the best mom!

After my fever broke, I was still very weak. I had lost a good bit of weight (might I mention that weight loss from being sick is not attractive weight loss). I had broken blood vessels in my ribcage from coughing, which made coughing all the more painful. It was time for school to start and my oldest, Sweet Pea, was starting kindergarten and needed school clothes. One day, my mom drove us to the mall, and as I sat in the dressing room coughing, she brought one outfit after another into the dressing room for Sweet Pea to try on.

As I sat in that dressing room in August of 1984, it occurred to me that, eight years after getting married, I was, once again, totally dependent on my mom. My husband took over with the children each evening when he got home from work, but I could not have made it through the day without her.

I am fiercely independent by nature, which is not necessarily a strength. It galls me to have to depend on others. As I look back over the years, there have been several times when I have been forced to do exactly that. It is also ironic to me that I can forget to thank God for a particular blessing, like my health, until that blessing is taken away, even momentarily. Then, all of a sudden, my prayers are filled with pleas for my health to return. Oh, how I take my blessings for granted!

What did I learn from this time in my life? I learned to appreciate my mom’s servant heart. I learned to thank God for my health, daily, as I’m enjoying it, not just when it is taken away. I learned that when I’m totally dependent on others, perhaps God is using my situation to give others the opportunity to serve Him through me. I learned that I, too, need to look for opportunities to serve God by helping others.

Are you willing to share a lesson you have learned?

“Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others,

faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms.”

I Peter 4:10

Reckless Abandon

"I long to worship Jesus with the heart of a child, in a state of pure and true adoration. Yet so many things of the world cloud my thoughts and pull on my heart until it's no longer just a girl in the arms of the Father"
~ Darlene Schacht ~
"The Mom Complex"

One of the many blessings about being part of a church family is the way everyone rallies together to help their own. When my fourth child was born, several ladies of the congregation got together and devised a schedule whereby someone brought dinner to us every night for two weeks! I was blown over by the outpouring of love.

On one particular afternoon, a woman that I didn’t know particularly well was coming by with dinner. She had never been to my home and I wanted to make a good impression on her. She was a little older than me and it was important to me at the time for her to think I was a good homemaker who could handle four children, as my husband and I received quite a bit of flack about creating such a large family.

First, I made sure the children were wearing clothes. My daughters, then 6 and 8, liked to wear their swimsuits all day (it was July in Texas). My son, who was 21 months old, if left alone for two minutes, could be found totally naked, running through the house with reckless abandon, with a piece of bologna stuck to his forehead. He also kept a spare piece of bologna stuck to the door of his room, should he need it later. I removed the bologna, dressed him, put him in a chair and threatened him within an inch of his life, should he dare to move. I then changed the baby’s diaper, checked her face for dried spit-up, dressed her in a cute little outfit, and put her in the baby bed.

Then, I looked at the kid’s rooms. They were destroyed. With precious little time left before the woman from church was to arrive, I opened the closet door and crammed their toys in as fast as I could. I then leaned in until the latch caught and the door stayed closed. All the while, my children stood in awe watching their mom scramble around, huffing and puffing and mumbling things about kids not appreciating all the toys they have.

With barely a moment to spare, the doorbell rang. With one last look around the house, I checked myself in the mirror and took a deep breath. Then the baby started screaming. Having already checked to see who was at the door, I instructed my 8-year-old, Sweet Pea, to open the door and let the lady from church in while I went to get the baby. Sweet Pea apparently opened the door, asked the lady to come in, and showed her where to put the food then said, “Come here. I want to show you something.”

She took the lady by the hand and sweetly led her down the hall to her room. With my now calm baby in my arms, I followed their voices down the hall. I rounded the corner to her room just in time to see Sweet Pea open the door to the closet as an avalanche of toys tumbled out into the room.

I was mortified. My overwhelming goal for the day was to impress this lady. My great concern was what she was thinking about me, while my daughter simply wanted her to see us as we really were. In one innocent move, she cut through the façade as if to say, “I want you to see us on the inside; I want you to see us as we really are” and opened the closet door to our hearts to let the junk out.

I learned something that day. I learned that it is not important what others think you are. What is important is what you really are. Children seem to understand this. We teach them to love Jesus, to sing praises to him, and they do so with reckless abandon, like the naked toddler running through the house with bologna stuck to his forehead. Then, as we get older, we become more concerned with what others think about us to the point that it affects our ability to focus on God and worship him.

What lessons have you learned from your children?

“I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children,

you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child

is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”

Matthew 18:3-4

The Best Surprise

Last Sunday on my way to church I had the best surprise.

It was extremely cold that morning (for Texas). Heading out the door, I slipped on an overcoat that I had not worn since last winter. I reached into my pockets and pulled out a folded piece of paper: A FIFTY DOLLAR BILL! I LOVE it when that happens! It has only happened to me three times in 50 years, since I tend to put my money in my wallet…a place for everything and everything in its place, you know.

The first time this happened, I was a teenager and found a $5.00 bill in a pair of pants. The second time, I pulled a $20.00 dollar bill out of a jacket pocket. What I can’t fathom is how that $50 got there. How often are you given a brand new fifty dollar bill as change? How often are you given a fifty dollar bill for any reason?

So now my mind is racing. Did some generous benefactor slip it into my pocket last year, and why? Was it given to one of my children as a Christmas gift, perhaps, who asked me to hold it for safe-keeping as we were leaving Grandma’s? (If my kids read this, one of them will surely “remember” that happening). Did I misplace $50.00 last year and give up looking for it?

Exuberant, I quickly shared my good fortune with everyone I talked to at church. (Perhaps I should say I shared the STORY of my good fortune). Amazingly, one friend had a similar experience at about the same time. He was looking for a book he hadn’t read since last year. Upon finding it, he saw an envelope that he was using as a bookmark. In it was a fifty dollar bill he and his wife had received for Christmas the previous year from an uncle. What a coincidence!

The next week as I told my story at school, another friend told about her gold mine. It seems that she keeps a zip lock bag in her purse to catch those little things that usually get lost at the bottom of the purse. She pulled the bag out one day because it was getting full, and noticed a folded one dollar bill at the bottom. She tossed the bag on the floor of her car and left it there for weeks. Finally, one day as she prepared to go shopping, she decided to retrieve the one dollar bill. To her surprise, folded within it was a hundred dollar bill.

It is interesting to me that I would feel suddenly blessed by something that I have had in my possession all along. I am not any richer than I was a month ago. The only difference is in my awareness. As a Christian, I ought to have this same exuberance about all of my blessings every day. So, how do I do that? One old hymn suggests, “Count your blessings; name them one by one. Count your blessings; see what God hath done.” I need to work on that.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed,

do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus,

giving thanks to God the father through him.”

Colossians3:17

All-Out War

"Satan's ultimate lie is that you are capable of being the god of your own life,

and his ultimate bondage is getting you to live as though his lie is truth."

~ Neil Anderson ~

Growing up, I viewed the spiritual realm as a sporting event; say a football game, with God and his angels sitting on the home side, and Satan and his demons sitting in the visitor stands.

As in any high school, the visitor stands are less than optimal. They are furthest from the concession stand. They are usually small, cramped, and rickety. Visitor stands face the setting sun and seem to catch the brunt of the wind. They are furthest from the restrooms and the parking lot. It is even hard to hear the announcer in the visitor stands. So from the moment the visitor arrives, he is irritated, and wants the home team to lose as much as he wants his team to win.

So, in my young mind, humans were the players, and the fans, be they God or Satan, simply cheered their team on. At that time in my life, I really did not think much about God or Satan being actively involved in my life.

It actually took two works of fiction for me to start thinking differently. I read C.S. Lewis’ Screwtape Letters, a fictional account of Satan training his young nephew to take over his work. He refers to God as “the enemy” and humans as “the patient”. He teaches him how take over the hearts of men, and the specific tactics to use when the target patient is a Christian. Instead of tempting him to steal or kill or commit some heinous act, he merely tempts him to believe that he is in control of his own life and does not need God. He works to busy the patient’s life so that he doesn’t have time to pray. He sends discouragement to set up camp in the patient’s home, so that he will stop going to church. In many ways, he actually works more on the Christian than the non-Christian, since the lost already belong to him.

It reminded me of John 8:44-47 when Jesus says of Satan, “When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.”

Later on, I read This Present Darkness, which offered a fascinating glimpse into the unseen world of spiritual warfare. Frank Peretti paints a vivid picture of God and Satan actively at work in our lives, not just as spectators cheering us on in either direction. Purely a work of fiction, it did cause me to dig deeper into the scriptures and to study instances when God and Satan fought over the souls of men.

God desires that we come to him. He wants us to choose him. Satan, on the other hand, is a stalker. We are warned in I Peter 5:8-9: “Be self-controlled and alert. Our enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith.”

Likewise, James 4:7 urges “Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you.”

I no longer think of the spiritual realm as a spectator sport. It is all-out war. Every day is a battle; every minute is a skirmish, and I, and I alone, decide which side is going to win for that day. Each day that I decide to be in control of my own life, Satan claims victory over that battle. Each day that I submit to God and seek his will for me, God and his angels rejoice as the victors.

Knowing all of this, I still struggle. How about you?

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Generally speaking, I avoid mirrors. In the morning, I do what I have to do to get ready. I make sure I look ok before heading out the door, and that is it. That is usually the last time I check myself in the mirror. As long as I don’t look, I can forget for hours at a time that I am 50 years old; on the inside I feel the same as I did in my 20’s or 30’s, with the possible exception of a few joints.

Recently, the whole family flew to Kansas City to be with Kindred Spirit and her husband, Sammy, for a very important event. On the way there, I was allowed to pre-board with Sweet Pea and the baby to help her carry all of the things that go with traveling with a baby. The rest of the family went through the usual line.

However, I must confess to you now that I was deeply wounded upon our return a few days later. We had booked a flight late in the evening (past my bedtime, actually). I was standing in the pre-boarding area at the Southwest Airlines gate with my daughter, Sweet Pea. She was holding the baby and I had my purse, her computer bag, her diaper bag, and the umbrella stroller. The attendant announced that they were now accepting pre-boarders. She then turned toward my daughter, took her ticket, looked me up and down and said, “Grandma will have to get in line with the other passengers.”

Sweet Pea looked at me apologetically and said, “I’m sorry mom. I’ll take that stuff so you won’t have to carry it.” Ever the martyr, I sighed, “Don’t worry dear. I’ll just take it with me; I’ll be fine.” Then I turned on my heel and schlepped my load to the end of the long line of passengers, hoping to shame the thoughtless attendant. Turning around at the end of the line, I was disappointed to discover that she had not even noticed!

What bothered me more than the public humiliation of being kicked out of the pre-boarding line was her assumption that I was a Grandma. Don’t get me wrong; I am proud of being Grandma. It is the best. It just seems to me, from a customer service standpoint, that, having kicked me out of the line, she could have softened the blow by pretending she didn’t notice I was old.

I always laugh when the twenty-five-year-old salesman in the store says, “Hello, young lady!” knowing full well that he is trying to make a sale. A more obvious attempt at flattery is when I am shopping with my daughters and salesman asks if we are sisters. Ridiculous or not, I much prefer their calculated flattery to the callous reminder from a stranger that I not only feel old, I look old!

The child in me wanted to stick out my tongue and blurt, “Well, I may be a 50-year-old grandma, but you are at least 60!” The sarcastic teenager in me wanted to roll my eyes and say, “Whatever. At least I’m not wearing a Christmas bow on top of my head!” (Yes, she was wearing the kind you buy in packages of 50 with a sticky square on the bottom). The enlightened, college-educated, 20-something in me wanted to say, “I have a right to pre-board. They didn’t hesitate to pre-board me on the way up here!” The 30ish mother of four would have pleaded, “Please, my daughter is traveling alone with the baby. She needs me to help her!” The 40ish professional would have leaned in and asked to see her supervisor, but the 50-year-old grandma realizes that life is too short and time too precious to waste on things that do not matter. Maybe there are advantages to getting older!

What advantages have you found to getting older?

“He who guards his mouth and his tongue

keeps himself from calamity.”

Proverbs 21:23

Oh! To Be Like Thee

"You act more like a Christian by your influence on the lost,
than the saved people you impress" Dr. Alvin Reid

As I ponder this quote, it helps me to tweak it a bit and make it more personal:

I act more like Christ by my influence on the lost,
than the saved people I impress.

How can I be more like Jesus and influence the lost as he did?

Jesus sought out lost people. He actually took the time to go out and look for them. He had compassion on them. He befriended them; he defended them, and he loved them in spite of their sin.

I go to church with Christians. I work with Christians. My friends are Christians. How do I befriend the lost without being swept away by the influence of their companionship?

Jesus established deep roots so that he could not be swept away. He had a close, intimate relationship with the father, God. He talked with his father throughout the day; he meditated on scripture. He talked to others about God daily, keeping Him in the forefront of his mind. His constant companions were men who were committed to changing their lives and following Him, no matter the cost.

In church, we talk about hating the sin, not the sinner, but how do I do that as Jesus did? I must confess that I tend to have stronger feelings against the lost who openly live in sin and claim no relationship with God, than I do the fellow Christian who struggles with sin as I do, yet desires to follow Jesus.

Jesus taught that we should no more hate the lost for sinning than we would the blind for not seeing or the deaf for not hearing. He chose compassion. They were, after all, lost. He patiently showed them the way. He encouraged them and gave them hope. Jesus gave more responsibility to the saved, pointing out that it would be better not to know the truth, than to know it and turn away from it. His anger was reserved for those in church leadership, who had the ability to influence others and lead them astray.

Oh! to be like Thee, blessed Redeemer,
this is my constant longing and prayer;
Gladly I’ll forfeit all of earth’s treasures,
Jesus thy perfect likeness to wear.

Oh! to be like Thee, full of compassion,
loving, forgiving, tender and kind;
Helping the helpless, cheering the fainting,
Seeking the wand’ring sinner to find.

Oh! to be like Thee, lowly in spirit,
Holy and harmless, patient and brave;
Meekly enduring cruel reproaches,
Willing to suffer, others to save.

Oh! to be like Thee, Lord, I am coming,
Now to receive th’ anointing divine;
All that I am and have I am bringing,
Lord, from this moment all shall be Thine

Oh! to be like Thee. Oh! to be like Thee,
blessed Redeemer, pure as thou art.
Come in thy sweetness. Come in thy fullness.
Stamp Thine own image deep on my heart.

Thomas O. Chisholm, pub.1897

Duped

It appeared too bazaar to be true. I couldn’t believe it when I read it. Then, I googled it and found story after story about it, even though I didn’t find the original story in the New York Times. Unfortunately, as pointed out by my bloggity friend, Jeff, I should have gone to:

http://www.snopes.com/horrors/gruesome/fivedays.asp

Had I done that, I would have discovered that this sensational story (see previous post) was in fact, an urban legend. Truth was, it was so unbelievable I couldn’t wait to tell it again.

Isn’t that just like gossip? You hear something. You may even “check it out” by asking ”have you heard?” or “can you believe?”, all in the guise of making sure the story is true as you heard it. Then, at some point, it becomes your own personal, public service announcement.

You lean in, grim faced, and whisper, “I guess you heard she is filing for divorce.”

Or, how about, “They say he has a drinking problem.”

Who are “they”? Why are “they” always anonymous? It’s like there is a “gossip protection program”, similar to the witness protection program. Spread enough juicy gossip, and your identity will be protected. You will go by the code name, “they”. I have tried asking who “they” are and usually get the response, “Well, I don’t want to say.”

Just as I didn’t go to the New York Times archives to check the story out, we seldom go to the person being gossiped about to see if there is truth in what we are hearing. I will admit that in many cases, it would be awkward to do that. Can you imagine approaching the raging alcoholic? “So, I hear CPS got called out to your home last week?!”

I actually did something similar once and it blew up in my face. A friend from church said, with all authority, “Suzy is pregnant! I am so happy for her!” Minutes later, I ran into Suzy and shouted, “Congratulations! When is your baby due?” She exploded. “I am sick of people asking me if I’m pregnant just because I’ve gained 15 pounds!” I was mortified.

Even though I try not to gossip, I find it difficult to rebuke others who do. Perhaps you’ve been in similar situations. The talk is innocent, when all of a sudden, without warning, the other person blurts out some juicy gossip. I will usually feign disinterest, then change the subject, and silently vow to let the story die with me. My hesitancy to chastise others who gossip stems from the knowledge that I struggle with this sin as well. My mother would say that is like “the pot calling the kettle black”.

What does God have to say about our urge to gossip? “The words of a gossip are like choice morsels: they go down to a man’s inmost parts (Proverbs 26:22). Trustworthy people do not do it (Proverbs 11:33). They keep secrets; whereas a gossip betrays confidences, separates close friends (Proverbs 16:28), and keeps quarrels going that would otherwise die down (Proverbs 26:20). Finally, we are warned to avoid gossips (Proverbs 20:19). Proverbs 6:16-19 lists the seven things that are detestable to the Lord. Sins of the tongue, including gossip, are in the mix. That ought to make me think twice the next time I’m tempted to gossip.